More Borders: Petra and Beyond

Eilat, Israel

I've been doing my share of border crossings recently. Yesterday, it was the Jordanian border in transit to Petra, the 4th century BCE city of the Narubians, great builders, great craftsmen, apparently, great neighbors. You've seen the Treasury if you saw Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. If not, I can't help you with a photo today since I can barely get this computer terminal to type "@".

I crossed near Aqaba, Jordan, just minutes from Israeli Eilat (And worlds away from the resot atmosphere. Aqaba is a real town and the few resort hotels an afterthought.
There were 50 people waiting in line on the chilly desert morning for the border to open at 8am. It took us nearly an hour to walk the one block between the two countries after metal detectors, multiple questions, careful scrutiny of passports.
On the Jordanian side, we were told that there was a man who would shout Abasat ( passport in Arabic )and we should gather around him and reliquish our passports. I did it grudgingly, and said to the young, bright eyed man: " What will you do with it?" Without flinching, he replied: " I'll sell it." Somehow, the humor made the letting go of my ticket in and out of the countries of the world a little less ominous. Indeed, he didn't sell it, but stamped it collectively with my fellow passengers ten minutes later--by calling out first our country, then our name. A reminder that what looks like chaos often isn't!

Today, I prepare for another crossing from Israel to Egypt. Since the Gaza incidents the past couple of weeks, I'm told that that border is particularly tight, and more than one fellow traveler has remarked: "You're going into the Sinai...REALLY?"

So, I've planned carefully since there is little transportation from Taba, the border town, to St. Katherine's Monastery in the middle of the Sinai, three hours from here through the desert--bedouin country I'm told.

Much of life comes down to risk/benefit ratios, and so it is with this. I want very much to see this monastery that has been in operation by Coptic monks for 1500 continuous years--through all of the occupations and wars, through all of the religious changeovers ( they have a mosque near the monastery and have good relations with their Muslim neighbors by all accounts ). It is also supposedly the mountain --THE Mount Sinai. Enough, but there's more. The burning bush is supposed to be THE burning bush. Now, scholars vary on whether it was actually this mountain that Moses climbed up in despair and down with the Ten Commandments, but it probably was somewhere close. I plan on climbing it to be at the summit for sunset over the Sinai. It's a three hour ascent, so I must be there by 1pm to get ready ( cold up there ).

And now the logistics. Egyptian cab drivers are notorious for bumping up prices if they see a "newbie". In addition, there are accounts of Hamas infiltrating the Sinai in response to the Gaza situation.

So, yesterday, I did some intelligence of my own via a fellow traveler, Ryan Jones from Pasadena. " Call Hamad," he wrote in an email about the trip. "I read about him on Foders.com from someone who just did the trip to the monastery. He's safe and reliable."

So, I found myself calling this cell number in Egypt somewhere--could have been a bedoin camp for all I know to see if Hamad answered. "Hello, hello," I began as I heard someone on the other line. "Is this Hamad?"
A long pause. "Yes. Yes."
"Do you drive a lime green cab with the numbers " 5439" on top?"
"Yes. Yes."
"Can you pick me up in Taba in two days to St. Katherine's?"
"What time you go?"
"Eight am. I'll meet you on the Egypt side of the border."
"Yes. Yes. I will be there."

So, I thought to myself, this must be how drug deals are done.. some unknown cell somewhere in the world.

Tomorrow, I'll find Hamad on the Egyptian side of the border. And the go to the monastery.

More then. Sharm el Sheik is the next challenge--three hours in the Sinai with another unknown cab driver. I'm leaving that one in Allah's hands for now.

MC