Mark takes the prize when
it comes to travel. He makes it look easy and fun. Or is it?
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Living the Life of Holly |
Column # 172 You'll
Never Guess Where I Am |
Mark takes the prize when
it comes to travel. He makes it look easy and fun. Or is it? |
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Living the Life of Holly The phone rang. “You’ll never guess where I am.” My good friend, Mark, the traveling geologist, yelled across the line. “Denver? Ready to buy me breakfast?” I asked. “Can you hear that?” He yelled. “No. I can’t hear anything.” I said, loudly. “There’s this interference.” “Wait. Let me get closer.” He yelled. “There. Can you hear it now?” “Nope. Sorry.” I yelled. “I can’t hear anything. We have lousy reception. Maybe you should call back?” “Holly. Don’t hang up.” He yelled. “That’s not bad reception. It’s ten thousand parrots looking for a place to nest for the night.” “Are you at the zoo?” “No. I’m at the beach right outside my hotel room in Oman. There are parrots flying around everywhere. It’s the most amazing sight.” I tried to imagine what ten thousand parrots might look like. I couldn’t. “Describe it to me.” I screamed-begged. “What do you see?” “You wouldn’t believe it.” He yelled. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” “Hey.” I yelled. “I’m not getting a clear picture. Can you be a little more descriptive? Are there birds fighting? Why all the noise?” “It’s getting dark now. They’re flying around looking for a place to nest.” I sighed. The next time I have a few extra dollars, I’m sending Mark to reporter school. “Could you take a photograph for me?” “No. Sorry. My camera’s in the room. You wouldn’t believe this. I’ve never seen anything like this.” The sound was deafening. The birds were squawking and making such a ruckus that I could barely hear my friend. “What color are the birds?” I yelled. “Are they nesting in the trees? They must be fighting. Are there babies?” “I’ve never seen anything like this.” He yelled. “You wouldn’t believe it.” Yeah. So. I settled on the listening experience. “Ok.” He yelled. “This call has cost me about forty dollars.” “I’m worth it.” I yelled, back. “Take a picture with your camera tomorrow, ok?” “I’m leaving tomorrow. Just called to tell you all about it. Bye.” Yeah. Bye. A few days later he called again. “You’d never guess where I am.” “Taking a photograph of flying birds?” “My God, girl. Get over that. That was three countries ago. I’m in Egypt. At an Egyptian wedding.” “No way.” Envy was dripping into the phone line and he knew it. “Holly. You would love this.” “Mark. If you don’t describe it to me, I’ll never answer the phone again.” “Ok. They’re wearing Egyptian clothes. And the bride’s maids are all wearing different clothes. And they are dancing in different directions.” I could hear loud twanging of Egyptian instruments in the background. I tried to imagine it. I couldn’t. I had nothing to go on. “This is incredible.” He said. “You wouldn’t believe it. You should be the one who is here, explaining it to me.” “Please, Mark. Tell me what you see.” “The bride and groom are blessing each other with tambourines.” “Wow. With tambourines.” “Now they’re dancing in another direction.” “Are they going in the four different directions? North, south, east, west?” “I don't know. But now the bride’s maids are circling the bride. This isn’t an ordinary Egyptian wedding. Some French guys are filming it for something.” “Ok. Mark. Listen carefully. You need to get a copy of that film.” “How am I supposed to do that?” “Befriend them. Get them drunk. Steal the wedding video. I want to see it.” “No way.” He said. “Why should I steal the video when I saw the whole thing live?” Um. For me? A few days later he called again. “I’m in Houston. You wouldn’t believe this.” I laughed. “Go on.” “I knew you would be mad at me if I didn’t call.” “Good boy. Good reporter. I’ve always wondered about Houston.” “Ok. First there is this huge conference with hundreds university students here at my hotel. They are all these buff, independent young kids here to bond about something.” “Ok.” He started laughing. “Well. Someone messed up.” He laughed again. “Someone booked a debutant ball at the same time, in the same space.” “No way. In the same space?” He laughed. “No kidding. So. They have these hip, independent students on one side of the room, and these girls in ball gowns on the other side of the room.” “What’s separating the two groups?” “A row of security guards.” “OhmyGod.” He laughed. “And the college kids are eyeing the debutants all mad, because they want to know who invited the mothers. And the debutants are eyeing the college kids all mad cause they’re wearing jeans to their big coming out ball.” I was salivating. “Um. I’m guessing a camera is too much to ask?” “I’d get killed. Right in my own country.” I sighed. “How about a conversation then. Maybe with one of the mothers? Something you could tell me about later?” “I don’t know.” He said, slowly. “They’re eyeing me like candy. And they look pretty hungry.” “It’s worth it.” I insisted. “I’ll make a reporter out of you, yet.” He didn’t e-mail much in the next week because he was traveling so much. I knew he was tired. He finally called. “You’d never guess what I did today. Uncle. I’m calling uncle.” “Boy. You sound tired. Where are you?” “Back in Cairo. I did a dumb thing. Really, really dumb.” “Are you ok?” “Yeah. The streets were all deserted, and it was sunny and warm so I decided to go out for a walk to find out what was going on. Believe me, for a city of twenty million people to have deserted streets, that’s a big deal. There were all these security check points set up, but I didn’t think anything of it.” “What was going on?” “That’s what I was wondering. I figured it must be some kind of holiday. I mean, there was NO traffic. It was a peaceful day for a walk. There were all these people walking towards a big square, so I followed them. Guess what was going on.” “An Egyptian wedding that was being filmed for the Nature Channel.” “A major anti-American demonstration.” “What?” “There were thousands of people there yelling things in Arabic.” “No way. Why today?” “Today was the one year anniversary of the war in Iraq. But you wouldn’t know that.” “I had no idea.” “I knew you wouldn’t. As soon as I saw the demonstration I knew I couldn’t open my mouth, or I’d be in really big trouble.” “OhmyGod. Were the signs in English?” “Oh. No, baby. No way. This wasn’t for CNN or American television. The signs were in Arabic.” “Oh, shit.” “Yeah.” He said. “That’s what I was thinking. And that it was a good thing my father had that Mediterranean look about him. I sort of look European. I kept my sunglasses on and headed back towards the hotel.” “Smart move.” “The only problem was that those security blocks that were set up? They wouldn’t let me get back.” “No way.” “I had to talk my way through each check point by showing my passport and hotel room key to the guy with the most expensive sunglasses.” “Why wouldn’t they let you back?” “The American Embassy was across from my hotel. There were tanks lining the street in front of the embassy.” “Hey, Mark?” “Yeah.” “Know what?” “What?” He laughed. “The next time you go out for a walk and there aren’t any people on the CROWDED, BUSY, NOISY CAIRO streets…” “Yeah. I know.” “And there are tanks lining the entrance to the American Embassy; maybe you’d better decide that it’s not a good day for a walk.” “I’m so glad I made it back to the hotel.” “Oh. Man. Boy.” We were quiet for a few minutes. “Hey. Mark.” I said. “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t really want you to be a reporter. I’m happy with you being a geologist and sitting in front of your computer staring at the screen all day. I think it’s safer.” “I’ll drink to that.” He agreed, sipping something from a glass thousands and thousands of miles away.
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