Chapter 18. Fatima | Sage of Egypt

My mind was racing as I made my way to JFK Airport in New York. The previous four months had been mentally exhausting. It had been a long winter in the rural town I left 16 years ago. While I enjoyed the opportunity to spend quality time with family and old friends, deprivation from cultural diversity and art took its toll. Most days I didn’t leave the house, spending time working and planning for the upcoming African adventure.

Unlike Central America and Europe, travel plans to Africa had to be finalized in advance. On previous trips I could enter a country and figure out when and where to go next after I’d arrived. In Africa, I needed a visa for 12 of the 13 countries I would visit. To obtain the visas, I would have to provide flight details and accommodation confirmations. I spent countless hours researching security concerns, covid restrictions, malaria risk areas and the cultures I’d photograph along the way. Having to book flights in advance added extra pressure as I would only have a predetermined amount of time in each country to complete the project. In addition I had spreadsheet upon spreadsheet with information about travel insurance, currency exchanges, cellular/wifi access, and expected climates. Amongst all of this, the looming threat of losing my sole source of income plagued my thoughts.

Yet there I was, At the gate about to board my flight to Cairo. In addition to the mental exhaustion I was facing, the previous few months had taken a physical toll as well. Virtual stagnation and the typical overindulgence in food and drink around the holidays had drastically deteriorated my energy levels. Lingering fatigue was an unwelcome symptom from my experience with Covid-19. Emotionally ecstatic for the trip ahead, I was eagerly waiting for my body and mind to catch up. I boarded the plane and took a few sleeping pills. I woke up in Egypt.

Cairo is a sprawling metropolis. The capital city is a true mix of ancient and modern, a blending of middle eastern and western cultures. The Pyramids of Giza, The Sphinx and The Egyptian Museum are some of the city’s most popular attractions. You can hear the Islamic call to prayer projected from loudspeakers around the city. Muslims pray five times a day either at home, in a mosque or in a designated prayer area in public places such as the airport or shopping mall.

Leaving the airport, the first thing I noticed was the traffic. The sound of car horns polluted the air, seemingly for no reason at all. Motorbikes, tuk tuks, buses and brave pedestrians weaved in and out of oncoming traffic. It was madness. After 45 minutes, I reached the apartment where I would be staying. Hosny, a local Egyptian who had welcomed me to stay at his place, greeted me and showed me to my room. It was a breath of fresh air to sit and unwind in his livingroom. He prepared lunch and we talked about travel and Egypt. After lunch we spent a few hours driving around and exploring the city. For dinner we had Egypt’s most popular dish, Kashary. Rice, pasta and lentils are mixed together and topped with a spicy tomato sauce, chickpeas and fried onions. The restaurant was one of the most famous in Cairo. Photographs of celebrities and politicians who had eaten there adorned the walls. The owner came over to the table and asked where I was from. He personally prepared my dish and asked if he could take a photo with me. He explained that I had an ‘American Actor’ face, whatever that means. Ironically, in all of my travels I had only ever been approached and asked to be in a photo with someone once before. It was in 2017, during my first Cairo.

Over the next few days I explored more of the city, walked along the Nile, went to the Sudanese embassy to obtain my visa and took a much more leisurely trip to the Pyramids of Giza by having lunch at the Marriott next door. The culture shock of going from upstate NY to Cairo, coupled with jet lag had gotten the best of me. I decided to cut my week in Cairo short and travel to Sharm el-Sheikh.

A popular coastal destination on the Red Sea, Sharm seemed to be the perfect retreat to relax and catch up on work. I booked an Airbnb by the water. It was the first, and most certainly last, time I stayed in a resort. Domina Coral Bay was beautiful, don’t get me wrong. It was simply just not my style of travel. The property was essentially its own town. There was no way out without arranging a taxi in advance. The restaurants, shops and overall vibe was too touristy for me. I learned that the city is popular amongst Italian and Russian tourists. The Red Sea itself was stunning. Gazing upon the glistening water was much needed therapy. I was beginning to adjust to the time change and feeling less irritable by the minute.

After a few days by the sea, I flew to Aswan where I would photograph the portrait in Egypt. Aswan is a much smaller city than Cairo located on the Nile in the southern part of the country. The area of southern Egypt and northern Sudan is known as Nubia. It is believed to be one of the earliest civilizations in all of Africa, predating the ancient Egyptians. The Nubian people are indigenous to the region. I knew early on that I would photograph a Nubian woman for the project. Through my typical methods, I started looking for people who might assist me in finding a woman to photograph. I was in contact with two Nubians weeks before my arrival. They both offered to help. Gasser was immediately excited about the project and honored that I had chosen to work with his culture. He told me about a museum called Animalia on Elephantine Island and he wanted me to meet the owner. Sokar, a Nubian singer and musician, also offered to help when I arrived. Having spoken extensively to Gasser about the project, I told Sokar not to worry. We could meet and explore Aswan, but Gasser would help me with the portrait.

Like in Cairo, I arranged to stay in a local Egyptian home in Aswan. Emad and his parents lived in an apartment outside of town. Although his parents didn’t speak English, they were warm and welcoming. His mother was very curious about America. She prepared incredible meals of eggs, meats, cheeses, beans, and vegetables. In typical Egyptian fashion, the dishes were in the center of the table and we were all given bread. We tore small pieces of the bread apart and used them to scoop the contents of the dishes. We sat and talked for hours. I was treated like family. After dinner we went into town and walked the Nile by night. I was an easy target in Egypt for street merchants. Everyone I walked by tried to sell me something. Taxis, boat rides, spices, souvenirs. The list went on and on. It was rather exhausting being solicited every few yards, but I understood how hard life could be and they were just doing what it took to get by.

I reached out to Gasser later that evening to let him know I had arrived and to confirm our meeting for the following morning. He replied back with some troubling news. His mother had fallen ill and he needed to postpone our meeting. I sent him my sympathies and told him to focus on her and not worry about me. Immediately, I reached out to Sokar and explained what had happened. We set a time to meet the following afternoon. He told me that he knew a man who had a museum on Elephantine Island who might be able to help. Curious; this sounded all too familiar. I asked if the museum was called Animalia. He was surprised that I knew about it. It was the same man Gasser had wanted me to meet.

Sokar and I met at the dock of the island. We walked the dirt roads and narrow streets of the Nubian village together. He told me a bit more about his culture and his ambitions as a musician. We arrived at the museum and a woman escorted us inside. She brought us each tea with sprigs of mint. After a few moments, we were joined by the owner of the museum, Mohamed Sobhy. He asked how he could help and I explained the project. I mentioned needing assistance finding a Nubian woman to photograph in traditional clothing. It didn't translate. He apologized and told me that fashion photography is out of his area of expertise. Before I could clarify, a family of French tourists joined us. What I thought was a meeting with the museum director, was in fact just a tour. He gave us an in-depth history into the Nubian culture. He described the three essential factors to Nubian life, women, the date palm tree and The Nile. After his speech he left and the woman who had initially greeted us finished the tour. Upon leaving, she asked that I pay the museum entrance fee. I left feeling disappointed. What I thought was going to be a valuable cultural connection turned into an impersonal transaction. I never had the opportunity to speak to Mr. Mohamed Sobhy again.

Fortunately, Sokar was available the following day and offered to pick me up to accompany me to another Nubian Village. He was one of the most genuine, helpful people I’d had the pleasure of meeting in all of my travels. The following morning I packed my camera and painting supplies and we ventured first to the High Dam. The building of the dam created one of the world’s largest man-made bodies of water, Lake Nassar. It was interesting to see, but my mind was mostly focused on going to the Nubian village. On the way I mentioned wanting to buy a galabeya, the traditional Egyptian menswear. Sokar knew a man in the village who sold them. Maybe he could help us find a woman to photograph.

The village of Gharb Sehil was located on the Nile. Colorfully painted homes and cafes dotted the shore. We parked the car and walked to his friend’s shop. The village was significantly more touristy than I had imagined. Merchants attempted to usher me into their shops at every turn. When we arrived, his friend greeted me and made small talk. It was obvious his sole focus was selling me one of his galabeyas. I wanted to explore the village and look for a possible location for the shoot, but I played along. I bought one of his garments and told him about the project. He said he knew the perfect woman. Her name was Fatima. She was a Nubian elder who had even been photographed before as part of a tourism marketing campaign for the region. She was sought out and greeted by the Egyptian president when he visited the village a year prior. Perfect. We had a lead. The shop owner left briefly to inquire about Fatima’s whereabouts. He returned, unsuccessful. He suggested a hotel on the other side of the village where we might be able to find her. We were off to find Fatima.

By that point, one of Sokar’s friends had joined us in the village. The three of us walked down to the hotel and Sokar inquired about Fatima. They didn’t seem to know where she was either. After leaving the hotel we walked past a Nubian woman standing in the doorway of an old building. Sokar asked me if I wanted him to speak to her and see if she was interested in being a part of the project. I said yes, of course. He spoke to her in Nubian and explained the project briefly. To my surprise, she said yes! I asked him to explain the part about painting the line. Her demeanor changed abruptly. She told him that she couldn’t write on the paper and suggested we try another place where they would be able to do it. Sokar and I went to the house she told us about and he asked the woman at the door. She wasn’t interested in taking part.

We continued on like this for quite some time. Sokar would ask locals where we could find Fatima, they would lead us somewhere new and it would turn into a dead-end. We took a seat in the shade for a bit while his friend continued walking the village in search of her. Sokar turned to me and said he felt like we were in the movie ‘The Journey to Find Fatima’. I laughed and exclaimed, “welcome to my life!” I’m constantly on a mission to find people whom I don’t even know exist. It was, however, a welcome change sharing the experience with someone else for once.

*Sights during our journey to find Fatima*

His friend called and told him that he had found Fatima. Ironically, so had we. Fatima was the first woman we spoke to who had agreed to the photograph but couldn’t write the line. I thought about what she said for a moment. Why would she say ‘write’ and not ‘paint’? I started to wonder if she had misunderstood. Maybe she didn’t know how to write and hadn’t realized she only had to paint a line, not transcribe text. I explained my thoughts to Sokar and he agreed that we should go back and clarify any misunderstanding. We found her again and he explained that she only had to paint an unbroken line. This time, she agreed!

I had found a small spot in the village to take the portrait that opened up to the Nile in the background. Being such an important part of the early civilization of Egypt, as well as Nubian life, the Nile was essential to depict in the photograph. I asked Sokar to explain to her that she would be the only person in Egypt photographed for the project. She smiled and said she was honored. I took a few photos and she painted the line. She thanked me, apologized for the misunderstanding at the beginning and left. It was an emotional moment as she walked away. Going from so much uncertainty to having found such a kind and prominent figure within her community was a powerful experience. As I was packing up my camera, I turned away and shed a few happy tears.

I would spend the next couple of days exploring the treasures of Luxor. A sunrise hot air balloon ride and visits to ancient temples and tombs concluded my Egyptian stay. Back in Aswan, I met with Sokar one last time. We had lunch by the Nile and he took me to an Egyptian wedding. The groom greeted me personally and told me I was more than welcome. In fact, everyone I met during my entire stay made me feel welcome. Sokar became one of those rare friends who I know I will stay in touch with for the rest of my life. The next morning he took me to the airport to embark on what would surely be one of my wildest adventures. I was on my way to Sudan.