Chapter Three "Pretty Egypt"

Chapter three

It was 1934 and she was fourteen again, all naïve, terrified and anxious. She walked behind Amm Kholi not knowing where she was going. Her tired feet started to protest against the itchy leather of her slippers, and her legs ached and trembled from walking for hours and hours. Sweat trickled from the nape of her neck all the way down her back. She wiped the droplets that formed on her brow with her sleeves and stopped walking for a moment to calm her pounding chest. Her breath came in wheezing rasps. She needed to inhale deeply to let in the gasps of air wash over her burning lungs. They had to walk all the way from the Bab Al Hadeed train station to this unknown place.

Why can't we ride one of the carriages that walked pass us everynow and then. Maybe they were too expensive for Amm kholi. He's probably used to hard labour and spending hours in the sun. but what about me? I can't take it any longer.

The wide paved street seemed to stretch on and on without an end. Opulent houses with huge, spacious grounds and lush gardens on either side mocked her with their silent stares.  She missed the green of the fields, the towering palm trees, and the sa'ya with the blind buffalos turning its wheels. She missed watching the small huts that horded the felaheen's families. She missed her own simple home that sheltered her and her parents together from the infernal sun. She missed her mastaba bed, and the smell of her mother's freshly baked bread. Why did she have to leave it behind, why did she have to lose them like this, why did she have to follow Amm Kholi to the unknown?. She was never rebellious by nature, and was never conscious of having missed anything in her life, but now she wanted to scream, to run back to the train station, back to the fields between her fellow peasants the fellaheen.

"Khalas ya Gameela, we're almost there. Look, we just have to make it to that house." Amm Kholi urged Gameela as he pointed his finger to the lavish two-story mansion at the edge of the desert.

They walked for few more minutes before they finally stopped in front of the mansion's huge Iron Gate.

"Ya Hassan, Ya Hassan, Come open the gate." Amm Kholi called out, as he wiped his sweaty forehead with the stained handkerchief.

A tall, dark man in a white galabeya came running to them. He exchanged a look a look of acknowledgement with Amm kholi and then with the slightest force pushed the gates open.

Gameela's eyes traveled skyward to the lofty pillars and the massive door. Flowers and roses placed in pleasant looking pots stood on either side of the marble steps that led to the entrance door. She also noticed the high French windows over the white washed building. Some of them were shuttered; others were obscured with curtains of strawberry velvet.

"Saneya is waiting for you at the servant's hall. Come with me ya Amm Kholi."

Hassan led the way to the back of the house. Tops of tall trees were visible over a gray wall of medium height that surrounded both the house and its garden. Gameela's bewildered eyes were suffused with the magnificent landscape.

A heavy woman with warm eyes and a beckoning smile, waited for them on the top steps of the servant's entrance, her eyes fixed on Gameela.

"Ta'aly ya habibty ya bent el ghaly, come my dear, daughter of my dearest!" The woman opened her arms wide and hugged Gameela with a tight embrace, almost stifling her. The apple-cheeked woman's eyes sprung with fresh tears, as she released Gameela finally before grabbing her hands.

"I wanted to see them before they passed away, to just say goodbye for the last time. May God curse this cholera that's stolen the lives of many, and praise God for the miracle of keeping you intact. I shall take care of you little one. I'm your only relation now."

Gameela stood silent for a moment taking in the woman's words.
"Your only relation."
Gameela repeated the words in her mind. She wasn't alone in this world. But why didn't father ever mention having a sister? This is strange!
She switched her gaze from the woman to Amm Kholi.

"I'll leave you now Gameela in the safety of your aunt Saneya. I have to go back before nightfall. May God protect you little one." Amm Kholi turned his back, and started walking away, never looking back until he disappeared behind the gray wall that embraced the mansion.

"Come with me, habibty."
Gameela followed as they took the stairs before proceeding down a dark corridor that ended opposite a large door.

"Here's the kitchen Gameela. I've worked here since I was a child, almost your age. You'll be helping me with the cooking. The kind Pasha has agreed to give you a monthly salary and allow you to stay in the servant's quarter. There's a spare room in the attic, I'm sure you'll like it. It will be all yours. Now Gameela you'll have to completely let go of this galabeya of yours. Lady Evelyn, the mistress of the house hates the sight of them. You'll have to wear a uniform, like all the servants in the house, since you will be serving the food. I've grown too old and my legs can't carry me around anymore. I pray child, you'll find this place agreeable. I know you still can't believe what happened. But we should all abide to God's will."

Saneya pursed her lips and then turned her back to open the door. "Here's the kitchen, come sit down, I'll make you a cup of tea and bring you some of the left over food. You must be tired and hungry. After you eat, I'll show you to your room and tomorrow I'll show you around the kitchen and teach you everything."

Gameela appreciated her aunt's kindness, the quality of her smile that effused warmth, and the note of enthusiasm in her voice.

She felt safe as a tentative feeling of peace washed over her. Perhaps tomorrow would be less difficult to face. She thought as she watched her aunt move about between the white cupboards and the giant stove.

Gameela's eyes roamed her new work place. The kitchen was long in space, with low ceiling that intersected with dark wood beams. The floor was covered with flagstones the color of the sand. There was an old fashioned baking oven that reminded her so much of the oven in her house, or what had been her house. She remembered the sound of her mother's hands as they beat down the dough in order to rise. She blinked back her tears and decided not to cry. For what good are tears if they can't bring back the dead. There was a fireplace at the far end of the kitchen made of brick and stone. It had a great raised hearth and an overhanging mantelshelf. Gameela moved her neck towards the pantry and then to the tall, white, weird looking machine that produced low hums. There was a generous counter top for food preparation, and right above the counter there were lots of cabinets for storing china, and cutlery. The sparkle of copper caught her eye as she raised her head upwards to watch the pots and pans hanging from a rack in the ceiling. Higher above their dropped two lamps, that did not resemble the traditional gas lamps she new. A serious of windows opened onto a view to the garden that circled the house. Gameela stood up and walked to the windows allowing her eyes to take in the lush green of the sycamore fig trees, the towering palms, and the various rose shrubs. Her nose picked up the scent of the jasmine tree, whose branches intertwined and sprawled over the garden walls.

Her aunt's voice made her look back at the old fashioned country table with its stumpy legs in the center of the kitchen. A cup of steaming tea stood beside a plate full of food. She grabbed a piece of bread sliced it into large chunks and then dipped into the steamy dish of fool bil salsa, fried beans with red sauce. The warm wafts of the garlic infused sauce made Gameela's mouth water, the texture of the beans in her mouth felt smooth, but the slight amount of hot pepper in the sauce stung her tongue, and made her whole face flush a deep shade of red. She fervently reached for the cup of tea to extinguish the heat, only to scourge her tongue with the steaming hot liquid. After finally gulping down the liquid, she smiled at her aunt who was watching her with intent eyes and an amused expression. Her lips curved slightly into a half smile.

Gameela had a couple of mouthfuls before she declared she was full.

"Bil hana wy shefa habibty, now come with me. Let me take you to your room."

Gameela followed her aunt who addled her way along the corridor. They climbed the staircase at the back of the servant's hall. Her aunt took it one step at a time. The effort of simply moving seemed to take its toll on her. She gasped for breath and clutched her chest. Gameela grew tired from having to wait for her aunt's moves. Finally they reached the attic. 

"Here we are my child. I don't think I'll make this trip ever again. I'm getting old, and my health isn't what it used to be. Go ahead, open that door. It's the door to your room child. It's all cleaned up and sparkling with new linen sheets and your uniform starched and ironed, hanging in your closet."

Gameela opened the small door to what was now her room. She had to duck her head against the low ceiling. The air hung heavily around the room. There was a straw matt lying in the middle of the room, an iron bed with white linens on it just like her aunt said there would, a chest of drawers, and a chair. An arched window with dark, coarse curtains stood above the bed which also overlooked the marvelous garden below. Gameela's eyes turned to the small, narrow built-in closet in the wall opposite the bed. Her hands reached the handle pulling it gently to find her uniform hiding inside the confined space. It was a black dress, white apron and a frilly cap.  She held the uniform against her figure and looked for a mirror but there was none. She hung it back in the closet, and then dived into her bed. Her body craved rest, but her mind denied her any sleep. Gameela looked for the small bundle of cloth that contained her few belongings. There was her sleeping galabeya which she changed into, a hairbrush, and the book of Holy Quran which she placed on top of the chest of drawers.

"Aunt Saneya. I'm all sweaty and tired from the journey. Where can I possibly take a wash? Is there a water tap somewhere with a basin?"

Saneya smiled at the little naïve girl so used to living in the farms. "Habibty, there's a toilet in the floor below this one, unused. You can go there freshen up or take a nice hot shower."

"A hot shower! You have hot water here?"

"Yes darling, we have many good things here. I'll leave you now so you can have some rest, but remember our day starts early tomorrow."

After her Aunt disappeared some half an hour later. Gameela tiptoed to the floor below. She looked over her back and in all directions lest someone spots her. She found the way to the so called toilet. In the beginning, she stumbled over something and found herself facedown on the cool marble floor. She regained balance and stood up tailing her hand across the smooth surface of the wall until she found an elevated square surface. She instinctively pressed on it and was shocked when the darkness transferred into an illuminated space. She stood baffled as she watched the small wondrous room. It was all shiny and beautiful. There was a water tap all right but there was a fancy basin of some sort underneath it and a vanity mirror above, two small hollowed seats on the opposite wall, and a formidable-looking huge marble bowl that could almost take the length of her whole tiny figure. Gameela fumbled around the taps, discovered that one colored blue was for cold water and one in red for the hot water. She managed to strip off her sticky, foul smelling clothes and finally take a shower. There was a soap bar of the most sensual smell, she used it to scrub every inch of her body and then after having finished she used it to wash her clothes.

Gameela all clean and fresh, adjusted the curtains so that the moon should not harm her with its seeking fingers. She twisted away and scrabbled under the bed cover, and wished if she could simply lie in untroubled oblivion. Raw apprehension warded of the descent of sleep. She was supposed to be thankful for this aunt that appeared out of nowhere, and this job in this house,and for the comfort of having her own room and her own bed, yet still she felt a deep rooted fear of the unknown. A subdued excitement gave her an uncomfortable feeling of breathlessness for a moment.

Why haven't she heard about this aunt before, and what about the owners of this mansion. She overheard her aunt mention a Pasha. She wondered was this the house of one of the wealthy Pasha's that owned the land and the very farms upon which she and her parents once lived and considered home? And who is this Lady Evelyn? The name sounds strange, like non she'd heard before. Could it be that this lady is one of the Engeleez? Sheikh Hosny, her teacher in the village's quranic school, the Kutab, had once said that the Engeleez were evil, and that they wanted to rob the country of its wealth. Could it be that she's going to work for the enemy, the evil Engeleez? And does this Lady Evelyn have children. Were they too enemies?

Gameela's mind whizzed and whirled with questions but in the end she buried her head into the soft pillows. Her heavy eyelids began to droop until finally there was nothing but the cool, blissful darkness.