The thing about Siwa is that it doesn’t just work on you during the day. Your nights can also be full of dreams, visions and experiences. Night and day blending together in seamless harmony. Two sides of the same coin. Everything that happens to you is a crystal-clear reflection of your inner world. Everything has purpose. And here, this seems magnified.
In the morning mum and I woke up a bit jumpy still and decided to take a little walk before going in for breakfast.
“You know, the thing that really came me to me as I was lying in bed last night thinking about our conversation, is that I know who I am and I am actually happy with who I am. I don’t give a – shit, what other people think or say. They don’t know. They don’t know me. People can talk about female empowerment but I am empowered. I know what I want and if I want to help my children than I - fucking will because that is what family is to me and your father. We want the best for you and that is that, and we will do whatever we can to make that happen.”
“You go Mum!” I laughed. I had never heard her swear this way before.
“I am powerful. I am very powerful and I realise I just had to accept that.”
“Own it.”
“Yes, own it.”
“And trust.”
“Yes, trust myself!”
“Wahooo! Looks like you found your answer.”
Khalid was actually on time this morning and we were all really late. I felt bad about that and was concerned he might think we were revenging his no-show the night before, which would have been petty and stupid, and a level of disrespect that didn’t sit well with me.
After making sure he understood and received my sincerest apology, we hopped in the van and headed out towards the western lake where the eco-village Corina and Hakim had booked for their retreat in November is situated.
The western lake is large and much deeper than the eastern one near the salt pools. It stretches out into the desert reflecting the clear skies. At the very western end another mighty hill rises like a solid, impassable block. Another Uluru reflecting in the lake.
This side of Siwa is where the luxury resorts and properties are being developed. In fact, Charles and Camilla came to stay in an exclusive place here during their last tour of Egypt. It is mostly desert, dry and inhospitable but there are new plantations of palm trees and I imagine in ten years’ time this whole area will be cultivated with palms and flowers hiding luxury villas and resorts.
The eco-resort is a neighbour to the high-end place favoured by royalty and is quite charming. The décor and building style is very traditional, made of clay, salt and wood, beautifully done with gorgeous Bedouin-style textiles adding splashes of colour here and there.
The resort is built up against another mountain similar to the others, that sandwiches it with the lake in front. This mountain is also rather intriguing and I long to climb it and explore. From where I’m standing, I can see several cave entrances that look manmade. Rows of several openings all in a line are scattered here and there around the mountain in strips as if, in the past, people lived within them. Exploring these caves will have to wait for another visit though. What mysteries are hidden in these mountains? I can’t wait to find out.
The heat reflecting off the mountain and the total lack of vegetation around the main part of the resort made it feel like an oven and quickly we were ready to leave. We all wanted to find a place to relax, have some lunch, get in the lake and generally have a chill day. We had been on the go since arriving in Egypt needed some time to relax and just be in nature.
First, Khalid took us to the exclusive resort to see if they would let us spend the day there but we were turned away at the gates by a security guard. Guests only. Next, he took us on the road back towards the main town of Siwa and pulled off about halfway, heading along a track straight into the lake. At the end of the track a round island had been built to house the little resort of Taghaghien.
Jutting out into the lake, it is the perfect place to watch the sunrise and sunset over the water, while having direct access to it in a place deep enough to swim. Genius idea, except for one thing – with water levels rising the island was sinking. Being out of season it was also closed but the manager graciously let us stay for the day and use their freshwater pool and facilities.
Piles of rocks and sand were dumped around the island, presumably to try and raise the ground to combat the rising waters but it looked like a losing battle. The bar, in the centre of the island next to the pool, was a little paddling pool and large puddles riddled the whole site making walking about at night rather interesting.
Khalid left us there and went to get some lunch from our favourite restaurant in town run by a lovely woman from Cairo. The restaurant is down a small side street and you probably wouldn’t even know it was there if a local didn’t show you. But the food is delicious and the owner gracious to serve us during Ramadan.
Hakim couldn’t believe there were so few places serving food in Ramadan.
“They say it is because they are very observant. But the Quran says that pregnant woman should not fast and we should offer hospitality to strangers, so what do tourists and pregnant women do when they come here? It doesn’t make any sense!”
While Khalid went in search of food for us, we got some drinks and slipped into the delicious water to cool off. It was spring and although the nights and early mornings had a cool breeze, once the sun came up it was hot. I can’t imagine what the peak of summer would be like. Like being in a fan oven, I expect.
Surrounding the large pool was an open wooden structure with a palm-thatched roof that provided ample shade for the rustic tables and benches that were scattered here and there amongst the growing puddles of water.
Hot air gently brushed over the island, barely making a ripple on the silky surface of the lake. In the distance there is an island struggling to keep its head above water, the ragged remains of a crumbling ruin poking up from it, beckoning to be explored. A row of kayaks lounge on the water’s edge of our island. How amazing would it be to kayak out onto those smooth waters and explore the island. Out there, I imagine, the world would be even more peaceful. Sky and earth seamlessly one in the stillness of the divine.
There was no one around but us. No noise. No distractions. No place we had to be. No rush. Just us, water, earth, sky and sun.
Mum and I made our way over to the pile of rocks and sand on the eastern edge of the island and clambered over them towards the water’s edge. Here the water was shallow and we could wade out into it the lake.
“The water is salty!” exclaimed Michelle.
And so it was. Saltier than the normal sea but not as salty as the dead sea or salt pools. The salinity level here gave you a slight buoyancy but you could still swim around without feeling like a stranded beetle.
“I knew it!” she said, face shining with excitement. “Since we got here, I have been saying that it feels like we are near the sea. I look at the sandy roads going into the palm tree grove and it could be the northeast of Brazil – and it totally feels like there is meant to be the beach at the end of the road. I have felt this all week and in fact we are by the sea. This is a sea, not a lake! It is an actual sea.”
“Yes, an inland sea being born!” I agreed, my hands brushing the surface of the water to make gentle ripples.
“I can’t believe it. I was right all along. This is the sea! I knew it!”
“I guess life is saying trust yourself, trust your inner knowing,” I nodded, smiling at her joy in the validation of her intuition.
We hovered on the surface like boatman flies, feeling into the water, letting everything else slip away until there is nothing left but water and light. I rolled over onto my back to float in total surrender but found myself anxious in this unknown body of water. What if there is something in the water? What if I float really far out?
I squirmed a bit, my neck tense, unable to relax.
“Relax,” a female voice within me gently said, “I have you.”
Ok, just relax. You’re ok. Breathe in and out. But what if I’m going into that sand bank? I don’t want to get tangled in weed and silt – ew! I scrambled upright and looked around; I had barely moved. Of course, I had barely moved. This wasn’t like the real sea where there are large currents to deal with. Don’t be an idiot, V.
Positioning myself so that I had ample room to float away from obstructions and meddling branches, I rolled back over onto my back and closed my eyes.
“Are you ready now?” came the voice almost immediately.
“Yes.”
“Alright then. Relax and breathe.”
It was like being in a sensory deprivation tank, except of course for the blazing sun burning down on my exposed skin. But even that somehow felt unobtrusive and mild, blending into the nothingness. The briny water effortlessly supported me until it felt like being suspended in air, with all sense of self and the physical world falling away until all that was left was pure awareness.
I let her do with me as she would, a conversation between us. When she was finished, she said, “good, now you are ready to start your journey.” And I knew it to be true. I felt ready.
The saltwater immersions and heat began to weigh heavily on our eyes, beckoning us to sleep. I lay on a wooden sunbed that I dragged out of a puddle into the shade, revelling in the delicious feel of the warm breeze on my bare skin. Mum rested on a nearby bench, while Hakim and Corina sat together and talked at the other end of the shade.
The gentle wind, moving through the dry palm fronds of the thatched roof serenaded me as I sank into deeper and deeper levels of consciousness. There was a rhythm to the music of the leaves, an omnipresent lullaby singing me to sleep, like the continuous waves at the beach I knew so well and loved so deeply.
We must have slept for quite some time, when suddenly the needle of my awareness swung closer towards waking and I became aware that the song the wind and leaves were singing, had words in it this whole time, I just hadn’t heard them until now.
Over and over, they sang to me as I deeply slept, whispering into my subconscious,
“You are home, you are home, you are home, you are home…”
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