Off of the busy streets in Cairo, it felt like I was stepping into a different world, a ghost town of sorts. The City of the Dead is a large portion of the city around the Citadel in the middle of Cairo that serves as a large cemetery for Cairo. Tombs are all around, but there is also a large number of people that live in the City of the Dead. Then, we kissed Cairo goodbye for a few weeks while we traveled through some more of the Middle East.
(http://bp2 NULL.blogger NULL.com/_qnp_-5yGoRQ/R5NQHa4EnaI/AAAAAAAAASw/YnTsELZdD9M/s1600-h/IMG_6854 NULL.jpg)[A Small Section of City of the Dead with Citadel in the background]
(http://bp3 NULL.blogger NULL.com/_qnp_-5yGoRQ/R5NP_q4EnVI/AAAAAAAAASI/eSJSMHK12xs/s1600-h/IMG_6864a NULL.jpg)[Tombstone]
(http://bp0 NULL.blogger NULL.com/_qnp_-5yGoRQ/R5NP_64EnWI/AAAAAAAAASQ/FpNw3MEV53s/s1600-h/IMG_6873a NULL.jpg)
(http://bp0 NULL.blogger NULL.com/_qnp_-5yGoRQ/R5NP_64EnXI/AAAAAAAAASY/BihvXc1BKfM/s1600-h/IMG_6882a NULL.jpg)[Overgrown Tomb]
(http://bp1 NULL.blogger NULL.com/_qnp_-5yGoRQ/R5NQAK4EnYI/AAAAAAAAASg/zebQ1qUu8uI/s1600-h/IMG_6894a NULL.jpg)[unlocked doors]
(http://bp2 NULL.blogger NULL.com/_qnp_-5yGoRQ/R5NQAa4EnZI/AAAAAAAAASo/Aa2WvFQVUmw/s1600-h/IMG_6984a NULL.jpg)[Shaping stones to rebuild an old mosque in City of the Dead]
(http://bp2 NULL.blogger NULL.com/_qnp_-5yGoRQ/R5NPna4EnQI/AAAAAAAAARg/rLrEXw40aqA/s1600-h/IMG_7002a NULL.jpg)
(http://bp3 NULL.blogger NULL.com/_qnp_-5yGoRQ/R5NPnq4EnRI/AAAAAAAAARo/SmeYR6ls2fI/s1600-h/IMG_7051a NULL.jpg)[Young People are still Young People doing Young People things]
Driving through the deserts of Egypt and Sinai, I was overwhelmed by the beauty. I have always had this fascination with the desert, almost as if there is something in me that longs for it. Rugged and beauty, unreservedly rich with earth and sky is basic to understanding makes sense to my mind. My soul wishes for my flesh to be the same; empty of my life so that God can breathe true everlasting life into the wasteland I was born as. I wand to be void, a vast open plain God can send the water of life through and plant lush green pastures. With the emptiness of me comes openness for Him, the Creator and Sustainer.
We crossed under the Red Sea and made our way to the eastern portion of the peninsula to Dahab – diving capital of the Gulf of Aqaba. We used it as a base from which to travel to Mt. Sinai (or at least where they think Mt. Sinai is) and the Bedouin camping trip.
As a school, we have been searching for injustices, hardly noticing that they are everywhere around us. The Bedouin’s have been taken advantage of for centuries by everyone. The Egyptian Government barely recognizes their existence, withholding education for their children and further social betterment for their futures. Their grazing land once extended from the Southern tip of the Sinai all the way up past the Dead Sea. Now, the remnant of Bedouin’s left are restricted to pockets of deserts and instead of being a great presence are now limited to the tourism industry. Most of the Bedouin’s that I have spoken with have been working in the industry since before they were 10, never attending school but learning broken English from all of the tourists. Musa, the guide for our hike up Sinai, has hiked up the mountain every day for 20 years, sometimes even twice a day to ensure provision for himself and his family. A 23 year-old Bedouin, Jamaa (in English means Friday), our guide for the overnight in the desert had been working in tourism since he was 7. He has no voice for his people in the government because there are no ears to hear him. There isn’t anyone to understand that he wants a better future for his family, his children, and himself as well.
It may seem a bit silly to us as a Western Culture, but Camel racing is huge in the Near East, especially in Saudi Arabia, the epicenter of Arab Culture. The Bedouins in the Sinai and up through the mid-east are traditionally nomads and have been using camels for traveling and lively-hood for generations. They still stick to this tradition, oftentimes boys will raise a camel with them throughout their childhood into the adult years. They are small and light, perfect for the races in the Saudi Peninsula. Because of this, they are oftentimes sold or stolen for a short-lived career in the racing business. On these long distance races, most of the children (from 4-10 years old) are trampled under the camel’s feet unable to meet the exhaustive demands of the race. This is something not confined to the Sinai Bedouins, but in Jordan, Syria, Iran, Iraq, Pakistan, and Afghanistan; even as far as countries like Bangladesh. The as of July 2007, The UN doesn’t have a comprehensive report of the injustices done to these children and other trafficked children across these regions. Read a report from the Pakistan Times on this issue and all of the UN articles broken HERE. (http://www NULL.pak-times NULL.com/2007/07/01/camel-jockey-innocent-victims/)
Does this break the heart of anyone? Would anyone be willing to dedicate their lives to see this type of treatment of the innocent end? Maybe you are the one God wants to use.
This isn’t about a global movement, but an internal one that stretches across the face of the earth; the internal movement towards the perfect love of Christ. A move spawned from a revelation of the heart of the Father – His love for them – and His love for the world. A love that sacrificed His Godhood coming to earth to be nailed to a cross for us to say, ‘I love You’. Once that love is laid hold of, the amount of love would flood the cities of Denver, Santa Barbara, NYC, London, Addis, Cairo, Dubai, Beijing, Tokyo, and Sydney. Love would lay siege and take captives; captives bound to Christ – lives changed forever by the realization of Grace. He came for you, He came for me, and that is enough for me and all of us to give everything, every breath, to that love; a
love that I cannot fathom the depths of. Love took my life and it died to take yours as well.
(http://bp3 NULL.blogger NULL.com/_qnp_-5yGoRQ/R5NPnq4EnSI/AAAAAAAAARw/-H759SuYyzo/s1600-h/IMG_7080a NULL.jpg)[Looking North from Jebel Musa (traditionally Mt. Sinai)]
(http://bp0 NULL.blogger NULL.com/_qnp_-5yGoRQ/R5NPn64EnTI/AAAAAAAAAR4/7eb_cLLXV6s/s1600-h/IMG_7104b NULL.jpg)[Musa, A Bedouin Guide on the Mountain that bears his name]
(http://bp0 NULL.blogger NULL.com/_qnp_-5yGoRQ/R5NPn64EnUI/AAAAAAAAASA/CIUYkMDBbhs/s1600-h/IMG_7156a NULL.jpg)[We had to get off of the camels to get down the slope... Oasis we slept at seen in the distance]
(http://bp3 NULL.blogger NULL.com/_qnp_-5yGoRQ/R5NPVq4EnLI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/Yoo_GhABxbM/s1600-h/IMG_7179a NULL.jpg)[On the way to Close Canyon]
(http://bp0 NULL.blogger NULL.com/_qnp_-5yGoRQ/R5NPV64EnMI/AAAAAAAAARA/t9EnsRfTd7U/s1600-h/IMG_7294a NULL.jpg)[Near the Entrance to Close Canyon]
(http://bp0 NULL.blogger NULL.com/_qnp_-5yGoRQ/R5NPW64EnNI/AAAAAAAAARI/PRQN3Tnlufo/s1600-h/IMG_7303a NULL.jpg)[Making Tea before Dinner]
(http://bp1 NULL.blogger NULL.com/_qnp_-5yGoRQ/R5NPXK4EnOI/AAAAAAAAARQ/WjuixEAnWuE/s1600-h/IMG_7334a NULL.jpg)[Near the campsite]
(http://bp1 NULL.blogger NULL.com/_qnp_-5yGoRQ/R5NPXK4EnPI/AAAAAAAAARY/mJ4mNly3wbw/s1600-h/IMG_7402a NULL.jpg)[White Canyon]
Next we headed by ferry to Aqaba, Jordan then further by bus to Wadi Musa, the city at the mouth of an ancient wonder of the world, Petra. Driving from Aqaba to Petra was reminiscent of the drive between my hometown of Denver and Santa Barbara during my Westmont days. The moon illuminated the coarse crags of the desert landscape; stars blinking at me, distracting from the monotony of the road in front of me. Clusters of stars on the horizon turn into streetlights from small towns or fruit vendors open late in the summer air.
I see Moses leading 3 million people through this type of terrain. At the night the temperature drops below zero, but during the day, the sun beats down relentlessly through cloudless skies. I might have slept where they did next to a freshwater oasis. The Bedouin’s graze their heard of goats and the occasional camel there now; sometimes entertaining the intermittent tourist looking for the “realistic Bedouin experience”. What a harsh environment to wander in for 40 years. I could spend more time there, I think (but maybe not 40 years… who knows). I enjoyed every moment of it. It is amazing for me to experience.
Walking through the canyons and caves of Petra was amazing, so rich in color and history. We also went to Mt. Nebo where Moses gazed out over the Promised Land, and where the Lord called him home as recorded in Deuteronomy. From the summit of the small mountain we could see the northern tip of the Dead Sea, into Palestine, and if the haze would have cleared, into Israel as well.
(http://bp0 NULL.blogger NULL.com/_qnp_-5yGoRQ/R5NO-64EnGI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/K1WANnQKx_Q/s1600-h/IMG_7424a NULL.jpg)[Sunset on the Ferry from Dahab, Egypt to Aqaba, Jordan]
(http://bp0 NULL.blogger NULL.com/_qnp_-5yGoRQ/R5NO-64EnHI/AAAAAAAAAQY/EtmXqSQ_DFY/s1600-h/IMG_7479a NULL.jpg)[We had quite the cloud show]
(http://bp1 NULL.blogger NULL.com/_qnp_-5yGoRQ/R5NO_K4EnII/AAAAAAAAAQg/7TDQ-4JRPvs/s1600-h/IMG_7526a NULL.jpg)[Part of the Aqueduct through the canyons of Petra]
(http://bp2 NULL.blogger NULL.com/_qnp_-5yGoRQ/R5NO_a4EnJI/AAAAAAAAAQo/UeXNc1pYZEU/s1600-h/IMG_7550a NULL.jpg)[Treasury, Petra]
(http://bp2 NULL.blogger NULL.com/_qnp_-5yGoRQ/R5NO_a4EnKI/AAAAAAAAAQw/xlPpIRBPAq8/s1600-h/IMG_7553a NULL.jpg)[Treasury, Petra]
(http://bp0 NULL.blogger NULL.com/_qnp_-5yGoRQ/R5NOt64EnBI/AAAAAAAAAPo/1mJUFAtSdcA/s1600-h/IMG_7598a NULL.jpg)[Mt. Nebo, looking over the Jordan Valley]
(http://bp1 NULL.blogger NULL.com/_qnp_-5yGoRQ/R5NOuK4EnCI/AAAAAAAAAPw/7uTDf1YIp1A/s1600-h/IMG_7614a NULL.jpg)[Monument of the Snake on Mt. Nebo]
border="0" /> (http://bp1 NULL.blogger NULL.com/_qnp_-5yGoRQ/R5NOuK4EnDI/AAAAAAAAAP4/gc_Rtu9KG5A/s1600-h/IMG_7639a NULL.jpg)[One of the Police walking through the canyons of Petra]
(http://bp2 NULL.blogger NULL.com/_qnp_-5yGoRQ/R5NOua4EnEI/AAAAAAAAAQA/LDhH0WhrBvk/s1600-h/IMG_7661a NULL.jpg)[Monastary, Petra]
(http://bp2 NULL.blogger NULL.com/_qnp_-5yGoRQ/R5NOua4EnFI/AAAAAAAAAQI/EzQb8L_2ZoE/s1600-h/IMG_7675a NULL.jpg)[Monastary, Petra]
We arrived in Jerusalem late Saturday night. When we awoke Sunday morning, we discovered that the Damascus Gate to the Old City is 100 meters to the left of our doorstep. I can’t say much about the current situation here because I don’t know much about it. I have my ideas and analogies, but I don’t want to say a whole lot while I am still out of the “know” zone. Walking through the old city, I could feel the tension in my chest; two people groups, one divided in their own land – families spread over a tall concrete and iron wall, and another fighting to protect the boundaries declared 4000 years prior. The youth are caught in the middle, some following the example of violence set before them some craving coexistence and peace for an enmity older than both of their presences in this small strip of land.
More pictures of this land to follow.
Thank you for reading and I hope that your days are blessed.
In Christ,
John Paul
(http://www