I wrote this lengthy story because the dark November makes me miss the sun, to compensate your 1 var-‘talk’ and because as I write I talk to you.
2005, the year when my father passed away – in February, on Valentine’s Day; I couldn’t let him go; I dreamt of him almost every night. Five months later, in August, I felt and saw in my dreams that he found some peace, a sad peace, but peace nonetheless. Tired of dark thoughts, dreams, and despair, I was seeking something – anything – that could alleviate the pain, even if only partially, or push it to the deepest drawers of my mind; a greater suffering, a void, or a source of happiness…. Perhaps all? One day, I saw the “escape”: the desert and the sea. I arranged a trip to Egypt. August isn’t the ideal time to visit Egypt as temperature can reach 104°F, but I was thinking the heat could be “the great suffering” that might dissolve the pain. Moreover, with 96% of the country being desert and the Red Sea, it was exactly what I was looking for. The Nile, the pyramids, Luxor, the Sphinx, and more – typically these would have been the primary motivation and attractions, but in that state of mind, they were merely collateral distractions.
I arrived in the evening. It was completely dark, no moon, nor stars. The first thing I did was head to the beach to “see” the sea. I stepped on something that felt like a pier. There were no sounds of waves, no salty scent in the air, no sea smell – just a dense, warm darkness unlike any I had experienced before.
A guard arrived at the pier. I asked him, ‘Where is the sea?’ Confused, he pointed near and under the pier, saying, ‘It’s here.’ ‘Where, here?’ I asked, not waiting for an answer. Sensing something was wrong, I returned to my room. I struggled to sleep, and at dawn I rushed to the beach – only to find a “drop” of the sea captured in an artificial gulf. When I had booked the hotel/ trip, I had checked photos of the beach, but I had been misled as the images were from angles that made the artificial beach appear natural.
To reach the open sea, I had to swim across the gulf; to access the natural beach owned by the neighboring hotel, I would have had to swim even further out or cross under a guarded bridge. Despite being able to swim, my fear of deep water (which explains why I prefer the inverse choreography – infinite laughs) made me to choose the bridge. Disregarding the restriction, I ignored the guard’s whistle – I played deaf and swam further.
On the forbidden side, although the water was relatively shallow, it was full of wonders, coral reefs and all kinds of brightly coloured sea creatures. As an extremely curious Gemini I wanted to touch them but we were told not to touch the coral reefs, the moving creatures were too fast, so I settled for what was left – and wasn’t moving: without thinking too much I picked up a sea cucumber. It had a “funny” texture and maybe because of that or it was just an involuntary move – I squeezed it, and the unfortunate cucumber squirted out a liquid. Shocked, I dropped it. The people around me burst into laughter. This was the first day.
The following day, I did the same, except for squeezing sea cucumbers; marked by the cucumber-experience I avoided touching/ squeezing any creature, focusing instead on observing them. On the third day I booked for all tours offered in the available timeframe. On the third day, I booked all available tours offered within the available timeframe.
The first tour was to Paradise Island, advertised as a snorkeling and diving trip – however, I didn’t read the description, I wanted it to be a surprise. The only thing that caught my eye was the name: Paradise Island. The surprise I was (not) expecting came when the boat anchored in the middle of the Red Sea, everyone was jumping into the sea, and I realized I was the only tourist left on board. Seeing 10-year-old kids diving in fearlessly made me feel angry and frustrated by my own fear.
As I stewed in my anger under the 100F heat, a woman emerged from the sea onto the ship’s deck. She asked me bluntly, ‘Hey, what are you doing here?’ I was too angry to respond. She persisted, ‘Why aren’t you out snorkeling?’ I tried to deflect the conversation by complimenting her flawless English (which implied the comparison with the rest of the group). ‘Thank you, I’m Scottish. So?’ she quipped. Amused by her response I remembered my struggles in comprehending my Scottish colleagues. She was a delightful exception.
I realized I couldn’t evade her questions, so I told her about my fear of deep water. She simply dismissed my fear, advising not to be silly but to ask the captain for a rescue jacket, with a guide accompanying me. When I hesitated, she took it upon herself to speak to the captain, who arrived a few minutes later with a rescue jacket for me. After putting on the jacket, the captain fastened it with his nose nearly brushing my chest, saying: ‘Big size, good size, I like big size.’ I glanced at him; he appeared to be no older than 17-18 years, and his nose positioned him a head shorter than me. I chuckled, thinking ‘me too, I like big size,’ but refrained from saying it. Few minutes later, with the guide by my side, I descended into the sea.
Despite wearing the jacket and having the guide by my side, I was too frightened by the depth to fully appreciate the incredible aquatic display around me. Nevertheless, it was a unique experience, and upon returning to the boat, I expressed my gratitude to the Scottish woman for her guidance and support. When she asked about my experience in the sea, I admitted that I was overwhelmed by fear. She suggested that perhaps it was the height that frightened me, not the depth. I was unsure if it made any difference; it did, I realized that years later when I was able to overcome my fear.
The paradise on The Paradise Island consisted of sandy shores, sun umbrellas, and a bar – so my “desert & sea” wish was fulfilled. Exhausted from my underwater adventure, I relaxed under a sun umbrella for a while and then enjoyed swimming and floating in the incredibly beautiful, blue Red Sea, ensuring I stayed close to the shore with water depths not exceeding 2-3 meters. Apart from that, my mind was mostly switched off, and I forgot the sunscreen. In the evening, when I saw myself in the mirror, I dropped everything and rushed to the pharmacy. When the pharmacist saw my steamed-lobster appearance, without saying a word, he quickly handed me a large bottle of Aloe Vera. He took a second look at me and he gave me another one, stating that I would surely need two bottles.