A Moment in Time

A Moment InTime

By Candice Dumont

The clickety-clack of horse hooves tapping the cobblestones in the alleyway below entices me to peel back the drapes, allowing the sun’s brilliant rays to pierce the darkness of our room. My eyes, quickly trying to adjust to the brightness, lock on the majestic silhouettes directly ahead. Oddly, the outlines strike me, as both foreign and familiar—like an old story I’d almost forgotten, but with more detail, begins to come back to me. I open the window.

The smell of camels, horses and exhaust enters and lingers in the air as a fine layer of dust coats my tongue, making my mouth feel dry and gritty. My eyes scan the area below, watching the eclectic characters scurrying back and forth and calling out greetings to one another. Engrossed in the unfolding scene, I am startled when I hear your familiar coo. “Good morning, little one,” I whisper. “Are you ready?”

I was appreciative of the slow pace, as it afforded me ample time to study the infamous Tahrir Square. It is hard to imagine that I’m looking at the same landmark I’d seen splashed across frontpages of newspapers years earlier.

During the revolution, the scene was always depicted with thousands of angry protesters; yet today, the peaceful, almost deserted landmark, looks so much smaller and less relevant.

As we attempt to make our way to Cairo’s city center, it is hard to visualize how anyone could successfully make their way through the overcrowded capital on bicycle. It is true that the population was a quarter of what it is now, but the chaos is hard to discount.

My heart races when we finally arrive at our anticipated destination, the Nile- Ritz Carlton Hotel. Granted the name has changed from The Nile Hilton, but the easily identifiable curvature of the structure and the massive, brass Lion statues guarding the close-by bridge,

The sheer quantity of vehicles, street vendors and pedestrians trying to hastily navigate their way through the merging lanes, the ubiquitous sound of car horns and the overall disarray, makes me eager to arrive. I am grateful when we turn off the crowded highway onto an equally congested side road, as I know we must be getting closer.

Excitement grows when I lay my eyes on the iconic Nile River. I am desperate to lower the taxi-window, impatient for an unobstructed view, but the threat of the scorching sun makes me reconsider.

As we cross the murky water, I see dozens of white boats scattered up and down the river, all docked alongside the corniche. We reach the other bank and join a long procession of competing cars, all jockeying to gain the lead.

assures me that we’re in the right spot. Despite my eagerness to rush through the front doors, I take a moment to pause. I am so grateful to be sharing this moment with you. The doorman smiles warmly and opens the door.

With you cradled safely in my arms, I take a deep breath and together, we enter. The lobby is quiet, yet busy with tourists and employees carrying about their business. I scan the area and stare at the impressive cascading chandelier perched beautifully in the middle of the large climbing staircase. “Did you know that in 1959, your G.G. worked in this very hotel? It was here that she met your great-grandfather, a young Canadian, UNEF peacekeeper. After a year-long courtship, they made their way to Canada as husband and wife.”

“I know you’re too young to understand any of this right now” I continued, “but one day you’ll understand why your gold jewelry is adorned with small turquoise stones; why your lullabies are tenderly sung to you in Arabic, French, and English; and, why the delicious foods you eat are so varied. Despite having left Egypt so many years ago, your G.G.’s homeland always remained with her. This is where it all started, little one, the place where our east meets west.”

By Candice Dumont www.facebook.com/mommabirddoula/