My big brother Ralph has been spending the summer in Egypt. He emails semi-regular updates. Here is one I thought was interesting. Sorry Ralph. I did edit it. But just a little.
Life is starting to wind down here in Egypt. I will head off to Luxor on the night train tomorrow night, and I'll get back on Sunday morning. I had planned to not go down to Luxor and Karnak this time out here. First of all, it is blazing hot. None of the members of the branch want to go down in the summer. They tend to head down in February when it is only ninety or one hundred degrees down there, instead of up to one hundred and thirty five degrees, like it often has been this summer. Again, I was resigned to go down the next time I come to Egypt, which I feel is inevitable. But, I was invited to go down with Kaysha, and a small group of temporary people here... people who are here only for the summer, and therefore unable to go in the "moderate" winter weather. Well, the group that had decided to go had drizzled up into Kaysha, a member of the branch who is seeking a Masters degree at the American University in Cairo... and ironically enough, her boyfriend, Garth, who is not a member of the church, but for some odd reason thinks that I am hilarious. Kaysha has begged me to go. I imagine as a chaperone... but as I was contemplating the trip, I realized that we will be together for a few days... and I am sure that he will have questions about the gospel. It is physically impossible for me to avoid discussing the gospel. I don't think that I can talk about anything without it leading to the gospel directly or indirectly... So, even though I don't know Kaysha and Garth very well, I feel compelled to go. I imagine many good things coming out of it. The few times I have met Garth, I have felt that he is a good person.
A little clarification... in Egypt there are strict laws against baptizing Egyptian citizens. We are technically allowed to baptize non-Egyptians. Even Sudanese, regardless of the fact that most of them are Muslim. In fact, our branch had a baptism as recently as December. A man from Cameroon, named Simplice, was baptized. In the eighties the branch baptized hundreds of people, and was censured by the government and lost their meeting privileges for a time. So, it is not absurd to think that non-Egyptians who rub shoulders with Mormons might be able to become members of the church here. But, it is announced over the pulpit that we should not engage actively in missionary work here. However, in the case of Simplice, those who knock... it shall be given unto them.
An interesting side note and then good luck to me figuring out my original train of thought was (Oh, yeah, I am going on the night train to Luxor)... An opposition newspaper (meaning oposing President Mubarak) came out with an article against the Mormon Church. Now, first let me explain that all newspapers are censored here. First of all, they are censored by editors, who don't want their newspaper to be shut down... and then they are censored by the government. However, it is interesting to see that some newspapers are given more liberty than others... to satisfy the emotional need to rebel and denounce the government. It is as if the government knowingly throws them a bone from time to time. Some newspapers know that they are allowed to cater to a certain group. Well, this newspaper is written primarily by Coptic Christians here in Egypt (who are the largest minority in Egypt, about ten percent of the population -- or six to seven million people). I was able to dabble a bit in translating the article into English for the Public Relations senior couple assigned here to Egypt. Let me paste the article and then talk about some aspects of it. Okay? Some of you might find this intriguing, while some of you may skip the entire email if you want.
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I am going to skip this part. If you are really interested in the dissection and debunking of this article email me and I can send you everything he said. As a side note myself...Ralph: If you are going to cut and paste and article for me to read it needs to be in English. I can’t read Arabic. Lol!
Now back to the rest of the email.
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What a long, but interesting tangent, if I do say so myself. At any rate... I also was given the task of pinning down a hard copy of the article... which I have done. It was printed a little more than two weeks ago. The reason it was brought to our attention, is because there is a Brazilian member of our branch, who was asked to stop coming to church because her employers read the article and were worried about her being arrested. True to form, she has not attended church for about two weeks.
At any rate... I also wanted to write a bit about my lunches. My lunch was especially disgusting yesterday. I decided to talk about it a bit. Samir has been busy lately when I visit him. So busy in fact, that we have had sandwiches sent to us from his home to the shop. I haven't been up to his house for two weeks or so. So, I would get these sandwiches with cheese... very strong cheese... and he would tell me that it was "old cheese." I was fine with that. But, yesterday, we went up to his apartment and I helped him prepare the food. I cut the lemons (which were the size of marbles... I am baffled at how large and delicious looking US produce is compared to Egyptian produce) Any way, Samir carefully lemon juiced each piece of boiled okra and inserted a pinch of spices. He then pulled out a pot of distilled home-made yoghurt. Now... as some of you may recall, the Coptic Christians had been fasting for fifty days, so they couldn't have dairy products or meat (only fish and seafood). So, my eating cheese has been a new thing at Samir's house. Plain yoghurt disgusts me, but especially home-made yoghurt in Egyptian homes. I quickly explained that I was lactose intolerant... I can only eat a little bit of cheese, but not milk or yoghurt. I explained how I was weaned on goat milk as a boy... But, the worst part is yet to come. Samir went to the refrigerator and pulled out a plastic container. He opened the lid and a murky liquid was inside. He reached in and grabbed a white mound of something. He rinsed it off and set it on a plate. I have called people, pardon my French, phlegm wads before... in junior high. But, I had never seen a wad like this before. This, he told me, to my chagrin, was the old cheese. Apparently they make it themselves. "How old is your old cheese," I asked. Eight months old. That container of rancid liquid has had lumpy wads of cheese floating in it for eight months... longer than my daughter has been alive. Samir then told me that year and a half old cheese is even stronger.
It is a very sad day when you choose to eat okra instead of cheese. But, yesterday was one of those days. A beautiful thing about losing your appetite... you really can't eat very much at all.
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