Friday-Guma!
Well I woke up after having a flu for a day and staying in bed. I did feel a little sorry for myself until I looked out of my window and saw the sea, the sun and felt the warmth in my flat. It was great! What a lifestyle when you have good weather. The breeze is constantly flowing here and it thankfully does not get unbearable in this city. Antiquated it may look but it certainly is very habitable and most of all hospitable unlike cairo!
The boys at the dive centre are always pushing me to pray especially on Fridays (meaning being a gathering). One of them was saying if you pray today your flu will go..cough splutter and then a though t pings through me and I say YES. The boys then suddenly throw themselves into a panic and say oh well you will need a hibaya (cloak and hat..not cloak and dagger). It seriously took them ten minutes faffing around what to do whilst the call to prayer was still blaring out its message. I then took matters in my hand and began the ablutions before prayer, they then started to tell me I can do it at the mosque. I know if its a five star rated Mosque like Ommayed Mosque in Syria its got great watering places but a tiny in the middle of nowhere place, the mosque is likely to be not to my liking! So I insisted to do my ablutions at the dive centre with the shower running. After taking a second to do it, I point out to the boys I am ready and Gibreel my fave Bedouin driver as arranged for a pickup of hibaya at his house which is next to the mosque. We go full speed to the mosque and drop off the guys and I then pop over to the house of Gibreels and meet his mum and sisters. It was truly quite a moment meeting Gibreels mum, she looked so similar to him and then his shy sisters came forward smiling and laughing and giving me my hibaya, I got a scary moment at one point when they were wrapping the headress around my head and attaching tacking pins so close to my face that one even pinpricked me! Off to the mosque I go fully dressed (wish I had pictures but I think I would have been late and to be honest I felt a bit embarrassed, idon't know why). I entered the small entrance for the women and walked up a flight of stairs into the womens room. Now the Khutba (sermon) was going on, I have not prayed in a gathering for years so have forgotten the routine. The women were milling around listening to the khutba and I then ask a woman, what I should do and she said Pray (no shit sherlock) so off I go and pray as she directed me to pray. I then finish and look around thinking whatelse I should do and decide to walk out and wait for the boys. I meet khalid our centre manager who loves the way I am traditionally dressed as an Arab lady and I point out to him he is late. It turns out that he has come at the right time and I have done my prayers wrong! So I run up and join the queue of women and children and begin to pray. How embarrassed am I..to forget to pray in a collective gathering. There were kids of the age of 5 praying so well next to me bar one who waas so fidgety she would look up and down. I got it wrong!!! I can't believe myself. Mortifying!
I went to return my hibabya, and lo behold I had a major bedouin feast before my eyes and everyone waiting for me. It was a great surprise ndeed, since the other boys were waiting outside and witnessed us eating they left us in a rush and told us to walk home! Gibreel could not invite the boys because he had two younger sisters unmarried and it would bring shame to his family if the boys came into eat as well. I really like Gibreel, in fact he was the guy who came to meet me at Hurghada airport and does not speak a word of English hence he was subjected to my squawking Arabic. A further embarrassing moment was I thought it would be nice for him to hear my lovely Arabic music whilst driving to Al-Quseir, mine is a hotpotch of rai and dance music. The Itouch has a tiny sound output and he was so polite he just listened. I then as time went on heard his own music and cringed at my attempt to entertain him on our journey! Our friendship has grown since then and I notice that his Arabic is a bit different to the other guys or the use of words and I am sure its Bedouin.. His ancestors were from Sudan and his father at some point use to fish in the sea with his mother who had a chance to see some beautiful fish in her time. The other girls had no idea what is hidden under the sea and when I showed them they were incredibly astonished at the beauty of the place. A really touching family.
PS. My other gaff has often occurred when I am cold. I thought I was saying 'I am cold', in fact I have been saying 'I am a post office'..two weeks on I discover this gaffe! What fun they must have, they are impressed with my words but I sense a kind of fatigue in me when it comes to the third hour of speaking Arabic. I can't do it anymore, I prefer they speak and I just listen and reply in English. Visualizing the structure of sentences and not to mention the Alpahabet becomes a distant but weak memory. Yet, I managed to work on an Arabic document for Khalid which I have to say he was impressed with himself. So easy typing Arabic words on a computer rather than writing it!