|
Jomana Ismail quits her job and has the luxury of being spontaneous. Three young men in Jomana’s circle of acquaintances decide to cross Egypt on foot to raise awareness about issues related to population growth. Jomana makes the last minute decision to join the 900 kilometer trek from Aswan to Cairo. She has always wanted to travel her country but she never envisioned seeing it on foot.
While flying from Cairo to Aswan in the winter of 2018, Jomana has one thought. The idea that she’ll be walking all the expanse of arid land below her on foot is mind boggling! Her companions’ plan is to walk an average of 42 kms per day for twenty-four days. Jomana’s plan is to walk 10 km and meet up with the others each morning. But Jomana surprises herself as she finishes the total distance each day, her motivation coming from the people she meets and the places she sees as she gains insight, not only about her own determination, but on how women are treated in the diverse cultures within her own country. |
Visit
|
"A good read that takes you to upper Egypt and back to Cairo , as you witness through the author’s writing what she faces as a woman in a male dominant society , the different culture, the challenge of walking daily , the scenery , the people , and more wonderful stories , until she reaches her final destination." — Amany Khalil, Goodreads Review
"Jomana Ismail — Walking Across Egypt & Challenging Expectations" Love Extremist Radio
"Jomana Ismail Travels From Minia to Cairo on a Stand Up Paddle" Women of Egypt Mag
"Jomana Ismail Travels From Minia to Cairo on a Stand Up Paddle" Women of Egypt Mag
After a while we wanted a short break. We stopped to wait for the rest of the team, who were right behind us. Younes started to ask if there was a cafeteria nearby but the man he had approached insisted that we go to his place for tea instead.
All along our way, most people we saw invited us for tea but of course we couldn’t accept every invitation because we needed to continue the walk. We were very happy to go to this man’s house, however. Houses in this particular village in Upper Egypt have small yards in front of them, with long wooden seats outside where the men sit, while the women are inside. I sat with the team outside; feeling tired I took my shoes off, but couldn’t make myself very comfortable.
The man of the house came over and asked me, “Do you want to sit with the ladies inside?”
“Thanks, I am okay,” I answered. I thought that he was suggesting this so that I would be more comfortable.
Younes was sitting beside me and he whispered, “Go inside.”
I was numb for few seconds. I hadn’t expected that from him.
Then the man asked me again, “Do you want to sit inside with the ladies?”
Younes whispered to me again to go inside.
I understood this time that this wasn’t a question; it was more of an instruction for me to go inside. I stood up and the man showed me inside.
When I entered through the wooden door I found a corridor ahead of me, with a room on the left and, at the end of the corridor, an open-air area. The houses, both in these villages in particular and as a general trend in Islamic architecture, are built to allow the outside in. The open-air yard in the middle served as the main entrance for light and air, and all the rooms were situated around the yard. The purpose of this design is to ensure privacy for the tenants, with the windows of the rooms looking over the inside yard and not overseeing the streets and neighbors.
A woman came and invited me to enter, steering me towards the room on the left. It was a small room with two sofas and a chair. She brought her wedding album to show me and I went over to sit by her side, at this point glad of having gone inside because my feet did hurt and I wanted to take off my socks as well, and to raise my feet a bit. The woman was wearing a tight black jilbab and a colored headscarf. She was newly married to the nephew of the house owner. His parents had passed away and he lived with his aunt.
In the villages in Upper Egypt, families live together and, when the men of the family marry, their brides go to live with them in the family house. This woman was newly arrived in the house but the village was small and so everyone was familiar with everyone and everything in the village. In the album, I could see the bride and groom having henna drawings on their hands and palms. The groom wore black leather gloves covering only the top of his fingers, and that was to avoid the evil eye, she told me.
We talked a bit about life in the village for her as a newlywed. Her main chore was feeding her husband and her main problem was that he needed to have a different meal for dinner than for lunch, so she had to cook twice a day. For the rest of the day she would spend her time watching TV. She was an avid fan of Arabic, Turkish, and Indian TV series.
I asked if I could use the toilet, which was outside on the left. I showed myself out and discovered that it was a baladi toilet. I had a problem that day; I was experiencing chafing so I was in pain. The day before, I had seen the guys talking together in a way that seemed somehow secretive. Now I understood that they had been getting chafing after the first day’s walk, and they were discussing how to deal with it. But they were embarrassed to talk about it in front of me. I took my time, not ready to reemerge until I was feeling a bit better. I was using water to calm the chafed skin a bit and I wanted to air the whole area as well. After five minutes I went back to the room.
The aunt had made us tea and came to sit with us. She was in her seventies, dressed in a loose, black jilbab and a big black headscarf. Though we were all quiet initially as she came to sit with us, gradually the family started teasing each other and laughing. I didn’t understand most of the words, however; they talked in a strange dialect to me. Then the aunt asked what had brought me there and I told her that we were walking from Aswan to Cairo.
She asked me the question I had been afraid of her asking: “Are you alone with three men?”
“Yes,” I answered, “but there is a team also with us to offer support.”
I was doing something that was totally foreign to the culture of my hostess. They can’t sit with men they are not closely connected or related to and they mostly have to speak to them from behind a door. For a woman to walk with three men for twenty-four days without any of them being her husband or a relative would be considered a scandal. The aunt was silent for a moment then looked at me and asked if I was married. I said that I wasn’t.
As she smiled, she told me, “When you get married, you won’t be able to do any of these things.”
I answered, smiling, “Maybe he will also be an athlete and we will do these things together.”
She thought for a moment, clearly wondering how to break the news to me. Then she said, “You will have to take care of your house and your husband’s problems, and then you will get pregnant and you will have to stay with your children.” Then she laughed. “I just don’t want you to get a shock.”
I laughed as well and found that I really didn’t want to debate any more.
All along our way, most people we saw invited us for tea but of course we couldn’t accept every invitation because we needed to continue the walk. We were very happy to go to this man’s house, however. Houses in this particular village in Upper Egypt have small yards in front of them, with long wooden seats outside where the men sit, while the women are inside. I sat with the team outside; feeling tired I took my shoes off, but couldn’t make myself very comfortable.
The man of the house came over and asked me, “Do you want to sit with the ladies inside?”
“Thanks, I am okay,” I answered. I thought that he was suggesting this so that I would be more comfortable.
Younes was sitting beside me and he whispered, “Go inside.”
I was numb for few seconds. I hadn’t expected that from him.
Then the man asked me again, “Do you want to sit inside with the ladies?”
Younes whispered to me again to go inside.
I understood this time that this wasn’t a question; it was more of an instruction for me to go inside. I stood up and the man showed me inside.
When I entered through the wooden door I found a corridor ahead of me, with a room on the left and, at the end of the corridor, an open-air area. The houses, both in these villages in particular and as a general trend in Islamic architecture, are built to allow the outside in. The open-air yard in the middle served as the main entrance for light and air, and all the rooms were situated around the yard. The purpose of this design is to ensure privacy for the tenants, with the windows of the rooms looking over the inside yard and not overseeing the streets and neighbors.
A woman came and invited me to enter, steering me towards the room on the left. It was a small room with two sofas and a chair. She brought her wedding album to show me and I went over to sit by her side, at this point glad of having gone inside because my feet did hurt and I wanted to take off my socks as well, and to raise my feet a bit. The woman was wearing a tight black jilbab and a colored headscarf. She was newly married to the nephew of the house owner. His parents had passed away and he lived with his aunt.
In the villages in Upper Egypt, families live together and, when the men of the family marry, their brides go to live with them in the family house. This woman was newly arrived in the house but the village was small and so everyone was familiar with everyone and everything in the village. In the album, I could see the bride and groom having henna drawings on their hands and palms. The groom wore black leather gloves covering only the top of his fingers, and that was to avoid the evil eye, she told me.
We talked a bit about life in the village for her as a newlywed. Her main chore was feeding her husband and her main problem was that he needed to have a different meal for dinner than for lunch, so she had to cook twice a day. For the rest of the day she would spend her time watching TV. She was an avid fan of Arabic, Turkish, and Indian TV series.
I asked if I could use the toilet, which was outside on the left. I showed myself out and discovered that it was a baladi toilet. I had a problem that day; I was experiencing chafing so I was in pain. The day before, I had seen the guys talking together in a way that seemed somehow secretive. Now I understood that they had been getting chafing after the first day’s walk, and they were discussing how to deal with it. But they were embarrassed to talk about it in front of me. I took my time, not ready to reemerge until I was feeling a bit better. I was using water to calm the chafed skin a bit and I wanted to air the whole area as well. After five minutes I went back to the room.
The aunt had made us tea and came to sit with us. She was in her seventies, dressed in a loose, black jilbab and a big black headscarf. Though we were all quiet initially as she came to sit with us, gradually the family started teasing each other and laughing. I didn’t understand most of the words, however; they talked in a strange dialect to me. Then the aunt asked what had brought me there and I told her that we were walking from Aswan to Cairo.
She asked me the question I had been afraid of her asking: “Are you alone with three men?”
“Yes,” I answered, “but there is a team also with us to offer support.”
I was doing something that was totally foreign to the culture of my hostess. They can’t sit with men they are not closely connected or related to and they mostly have to speak to them from behind a door. For a woman to walk with three men for twenty-four days without any of them being her husband or a relative would be considered a scandal. The aunt was silent for a moment then looked at me and asked if I was married. I said that I wasn’t.
As she smiled, she told me, “When you get married, you won’t be able to do any of these things.”
I answered, smiling, “Maybe he will also be an athlete and we will do these things together.”
She thought for a moment, clearly wondering how to break the news to me. Then she said, “You will have to take care of your house and your husband’s problems, and then you will get pregnant and you will have to stay with your children.” Then she laughed. “I just don’t want you to get a shock.”
I laughed as well and found that I really didn’t want to debate any more.
Other Books You May Like
|
|