wake up…..big buffet breakfast…..little nap….swim…read….little nap…..swim….read and eat….little nap….swim….read…..big nap…eat….read….bedtime…..
and so went my three days in dahab. amazing. amazing enough to extend stay for 2 extra nights.
last three days spent exploring the region around dahab. rented 4×4 quad bike for trip into canyons…zooming along the ocean roads with the sinai mountains stretching out before me, turning off road to wind through sunset frosted rocks and sand….also went snorkeling (a big deal for me because of my ocean fears)….the colorful red sea reef cascading into turquoise and azure oblivion, teeming with tropical aquatic life, complete silence……it was a fantastic two days.
last day in sinai spent climbing mount sinai for the sunset. started the day with a brief tour of Saint Katherine’s monastery, which is dramatically tucked into the base of the mountains. Thought to be the oldest monastery in the world, it was built by order of emperor Justinian I between 527 and 565. it encloses the chapel of the burning bush ordered to be built by Helena, the mother of Constantine I, at the site where Moses is supposed to have seen the burning bush (there is a living bush on the grounds, which is thought to be the original). Despite the fact that the monastery is a holy site for Christians, Muslims, and Jews, I detected nothing holy about the dense sea of tourists in tour groups pushing and shoving and the tour company video cameras filming the tour groups pushing and shoving. If I blocked out the world around me, I could almost appreciate the peacefulness of the old chapel, the rare byzantine art, the dusty and age-faded religious relics. I watched as crowds of people reached up to get a picture of themselves touching a “part” of the burning bush. It was like watching people going through the motions of faith, photographing themselves expressing faith in a very artificial way. Although I had a difficult time applying any personal religious meaning to the monastery, I was very disappointed that I allowed my annoyance and frustration with the crowds take away from my appreciation of the beauty of the monastery, of its dormant solitude, of its historical significance….
After the tour of the monastery, we started the summit to the top of Mount Sinai (the supposed site where Moses spoke to God and received the 10 commandments). The most popular thing to do (and arguably the most beautiful) is to visit Mount Sinai for the sunset, starting the hike at 3am. Due to scheduling, we had to settle for the sunset hike. There are 2 ways to summit Mount Sinai–the camel trail, which is a sloping trail of rocky, sandy switchbacks (easier trail) and the steps of penitence (3,700 stone steps carved out of the mountain by a repentant monk)…..our guide left us no choice-we took the camel trail. After the first 3 km moving up the mountain, I was happy with his executive decision. We reached Elijah’s basin at around 2pm, at which point we started the 750-step climb to the summit of Mount Sinai. It was a brutal last step. We had at least 2 hours before the beginning of the sunset, but the wind was picking up and I was starting to get cold and tired. We reached the summit around 3pm and it was breathtaking…..below us was a sea of barren mountains stretching as far as the eye could see—as series of a sharp peaks rising from a billowing cloud-like rocky infinity, shadowy and sun drenched…..again, there was the silence. A cold yet comforting silence.
As we waited for the sun to set, I was hoping to feel something, some sort of pang of spirituality, some small whisper of faith in the divine….I looked around me and inwardly smiled at the others around me talking about the accomplishment of climbing to the top and suddenly I was overwhelmed by the world around me….Overwhelmed by the seeming endlessness of the mountains, by the landscape of light and shadows, by the increasingly icy winds….by my stiffening muscles, my inability to get warm, my hunger, my fatigue……The sunset became a time of both existential wonder and temporal discomfort. I felt no whisper of the divine, but I did experience a deep appreciation for the certainty that the sun rises and sets over these mountains every day and every day people will use their strength (physical and spiritual) to summit this mountain to become part of a shared human experience. Instead of feeling a sense of “something greater”, the existence of something divine, I felt more tethered to the earth than I ever have.
Right at the last moment of day, a group of strange Western pilgrims dressed in designer Clorox-bleached white pseudo-Bedouin gear gathered in a circle and began to sign a quiet chant, extending their necks to stare intently into the night sky. The signing was a bit pretty but eery, disruptive, ridiculous…..It broke into my thoughts, my experience in a way that frustrated me…..I lost my calm contemplative connection to the mountains and grew impatient to descend….I was unable to block out their intrusive presence.
We descended by the light of a full moon and a sky full of stars, slowing slipping down the mountain, carefully following the flickering flashlights of other groups in the distance. The descent was exhausting, but incredibly peaceful—with spectacular moonlit mountain views. At the base of the mountain, Saint Katherine’s monastery stood silently, imposing, emptied of people.
It finally seemed holy.
Globe Napper 