St. Anthony’s and Ein Sokhna

I have finally ventured farther than Cairo!

This weekend I travelled for a total of five or six hours to St. Anthony’s and then to Ein Sokhna during a Residential Life sponsored trip.  St. Anthony’s Monastery is the oldest known monastery in Egypt and contains a spring that comes from deep within a nearby mountain.  The trip began at 7 AM when all students going on the trip met at the Common Area in the dorms.  Everyone was punctual, but not our transportation. We waited for about half an hour before we were ready to begin our adventure.  We all walked together, en masse, to Pepsi Gate and almost stopped in our tracks when we saw what we would be ridding in:  the van was too small for our group.  However, there was a solution!  Fold-down seats were available in the aisle.  Two lucky members enjoyed the discomfort of poor back support and the occasional jolt of a knee from the person sitting behind them.  I was one of the lucky few to cramp into a normal seat, but had the discomfort of attempting to avoid being the knee which slammed in my comrade’s back.  Although they are paved, the roads are very bumpy and have speed bumps hidden intermittently down the road. 

After a little complaining and a bit of squishing and “oh, I’m sorry” we were ready and on our way.  Polite conversations took place with those who were not familiar with each other.  With only four hours of sleep, I felt I much rather sleep than make polite small talk.  I was unfortunately situated between two rather awkward, almost adolescent male students so I found it rather difficult to keep a conversation going.  It was good practice, though, for coming up with good conversation starters interesting to all parties.  By the end of the day I felt like the social, popular butterfly of the group and had made friends with the entire van, even if all the students did not associate themselves with each other.  This was a first in my life since in the past I have been on the outskirts of the action and timidly and tentively adding my two cents.  This weekend, I have been the star of the show!  At least that is how I feel when I compare the “old me” with this “new me.”

We drove on bumping and jumping in our seats, stuttering as the wind was knocked out of us while we were talking.  After a while we all gave up on being social and began taking naps and taking out our various MP3 players.  A college student does not go on a trip without their MP3 player!  I slept most of the time, but tried to keep myself conscious enough to avoid letting my jaw unhinge like a python about to engulf its prey.  After about two or three hours we stopped to get gas and take a short break.  Everyone took off to the toilets and the ladies discovered with dismay that their was no toilet paper.  I had known before-hand to travel with toilet paper, but was foolish enough to forget such an important item.  I swallowed my pride and marched to the gas station attendant standing at the cash register and tried to sign that I needed tissue.  Luckily, there was someone fluent in English and Arabic and translated.  I stood and waited while another attendant slowly pulled out a roll of toilet paper and carefully folded a few sheets into a nice, neat pile.  I felt embarrassed as I marched back to stand in line at the women’s WC.

After our break we continue our journey (with much napping) and after a total of four hours made it to St. Anthony’s.  A wonderful Coptic Priest with broken English gave us a tour of the important parts of the monastery.  On any other day I would be putdown we did not see more of the grounds; however, I was tired and the day was so unusually hot even the locals commented on the temperature.  My favorite part of the tour was seeing the spring flowing from the mountain.  The priest explained they did not know where it came from or how it was possible.  “Perhaps it is from the rain flowing down the mountain,” he said, “but this is not possible because it never rains here! It is a miracle from God”).  He showed us a spickit nearby that channeled some of the spring water (the rest was stored in a cistern below the ground: about 1000 or 2000 liters per day) and asked us to drink it if we liked.  I drank it, but from the mannerisms of some of my comrades, I felt as if I was in line for a Catholic religious rite.  The priests bake their own bread and we shared a loaf with the priest and the members of the trip, including our Muslim chaperones. Later, we joked how our lunch was a piece of bread and a sip of water since we never had the opportunity for an actual meal. 

Our group seems to be camera-happy and were shooting so many pictures.  I tried to put my knew found camera knowledge to work by messing around with the settings on my camera.  I had not found any instructions on my brand new rechargeable batteries so I had not thought check if they were fully charged.  Halfway through the tour, my batteries died.  After that all I could do is watch as I saw picture opportunities pass me by.  I was so disappointed I would not use my camera for the best part of the trip: the beach!

We finished our tour at the gift shop.  Apparently, most of the kids on the tour are Catholic or some close branch because many of them bought Catholic paraphernalia.  I sat in the shade outside waiting to depart and chatted with one of the trip chaperones.  We boarded the bus and backtracked to Ein Sokhna, since we had passed it on our way to the monastery.  A lot of group members had signed up for the trip solely for the beach, myself included.  I saw the monastery as an intriguing added bonus.  The journey to the beach took a total of eight hours; including stops, St. Anthony’s, and travel time.  We were practically exhausted by the time we made it to the hotel.  I had commented on the van how travelling in large groups was always difficult and often annoying as there was a lot of waiting time involved.  While travelling in groups, most of the time is spent waiting or getting from Point A to Point B instead of spending more time at Point B.  I find this to be one reason I am compelled to be an independent traveler; however, I would not dare to attempt to do so at such a time.

After settling in and relaxing for a moment, we all decided it was high time to find something to eat!  We arrived at the hotel around 3PM, but were not going to be fed until 7PM.  We had been up before 7AM and had only eaten a few hunger enhancing snacks.  Travelling and heat puts a hold on my hunger alarm so I did not want to eat anything.  The girls I was sitting with chastised me me for not eating enough after they slyly drilled me about what I ate while living on campus.  To calm their fears for my health I told them I was trying to save money and I knew I would be fine for the next three hours while we waited for dinner.  I ordered a “cantaloupe juice” which turned out to be pureed honeydew melon mixed with frothed milk and sugar or syrup.  The juices here are so delicious and I often order mango juice—a mix of pure mango pulp and sugar—the best juice I have ever tasted.  “Mango nectar” is also easily purchased from practically anywhere in Cairo. 

I was eager to swim since it was such a scorching day, but the two girls I roomed with were self-proclaimed anti-beach enthusiasts.  They kindly joined me at the beach so I would not have to go alone.  Before we left we were told this was a very westernized resort and wearing bikinis would be acceptable.  However, when we arrived all the women were fully covered and wearing head coverings and “Burkinis”—a full body swimsuit which includes Hijab.  I had brought a one piece, but I knew I would be uncomfortable knowing every man would be staring at the scantily-clad western girls.  In the US, men would hardly notice a woman in a single piece bathing suit; but based on my experience and what I have heard, Western-styled swim suits are seen as unacceptable.

We walked to the receded shore line (it was 100s of feet away from the normal shore line) and poked around at the starfish and chased the small crabs as we walked along.  The Little Geologist in me found a pretty peach rock and held onto it tightly.  Something in me cannot visit a new place without finding a beautiful stone to pick up!  I could tell the two girls weren’t entirely enjoying their walk through the water so I suggested we go back and enjoy a bit of rest in our room before dinner.  The evening meal was delicious and served as a buffet.  We learned after we finished eating there was more food on the patio outside the dinning area and included a variety of pastas.  Most of the food seemed foreign and interesting, though, and my taste buds were thoroughly delighted.  Again, I was the “social butterfly” who attempted to keep the conversation going at the dinner table.  This is so foreign to me!  During dinner we decided we wanted to find a little store that sold fruits and juices.  At the reception, we were told the area was isolated and only had factories and resorts.  We were welcome to walk to the non-alcoholic bar on the beach and sample the overpriced juices sold by the resort.  I believe they were lying and there was something around the resort…I saw a coca-cola sign on a nearby building reminiscent of backroad KY/TN gas stations.  We caved and bought the overpriced juices (16 LE for a small glass disguised as a larger glass).  I chatted with one of the girls I seemed to connect very well with and we began to make other travel plans.  I knew if I spent a little money to go on a guided tour I would find friends to go on our own trips!  And now the adventure truly has begun; I finally feel as if I am doing as I should!