Ancient History

Living in Egypt for a year was one of those things that if somebody would’ve predicted it I would have never believed it. It took a lot of courage moving to an Arab country with all the misconceptions formed after September 11, 2006. I moved across the world, literally, from Dominican Republic all the way to Cairo, completely by myself. I remember standing alone in my hotel room, looking at the Egyptian sunset though out the wide window. Everything looked the same color. The oranges of the sky blended perfectly with the sand colored buildings. The peace of the landscape was interrupted by the chanting coming from the mosque loud speakers telling the Egyptians it was time to pray. I cried like a little girl on the first day of school wondering what the heck was I doing there?!


It turned out living there wasn’t so bad after all. It was one of the best years of my life. I made good friends; found and lost love again; made myself proud by overcoming my fear and scuba dove the Blue Hole on the Red Sea. I saw the stars on a moonless night in the middle of the desert; bathe in the Mediterranean; sat in a café from where I could see Jordan, Israel and Saudi Arabia. Rode a camel and a horse around the pyramids; sailed on a falluca across the Nile; descended to the ground to discover ancient treasures on the Valley of the Kings; saw mommies thousands of years old; took belly dance lessons; learn a little Arabic; went inside Keops’ Pyramid (found nothing but dust) and partied with ambassadors from more than 20 countries.

When it was time to go back home, I cried even harder than before thinking of everything I was going to leave behind.

Egyptian BMW

Valley of the Kings

Alexandria

Siani

Egyptian Museum