Tuesday, June 28, 2016

A Message from Cambodia



By all means...this is not the right time for her to travel. 
The plane should take off exactly one week from now to this other part 
of the world. 

Right now, she has no money for this kind of thing. She would be unemployed in a few weeks time with no other new contracts in the horizon. It was a gloomy period, her being worried about covering 
her expenses until she finds a new job, in that very specific field. 
She was desperately hopeless and depressed. 

She didnt have any days off left for an annual leave, and her boss 
was out of town to be able to even ask him for the favor of letting 
her travel before contract end.

It is high season and all plane seats had been booked 3 months in 
advance. No seats on international flights free. For that country 
all train tickets were sold out for internal transport, internal 
flights were also out. Her friend who lives there and had arranged 
for the very tight schedule of the trip to share with a third friend 
was out of town and couldnt help solving any problems. She had to 
find transportation for the exact timing otherwise she wouldnt be 
able to spend the vacation with them.

Her passport has been missing for two years. She has no time to have 
a visa issued

Yet, they kept telling her to try and join. She just decided that 
within that week she should try her best and see what comes out of 
it.

For some reason, she gets a good job offer to shut up all the 
worries about future, career, independence and stuff.

The other day she finds her passport. Apparently it had been moved 
to the balcony with the old books as they were decorating their 
house.

She sends an email to her boss without any hope, yet he miraculously 
agrees to let her travel. He also gives her an unexpected 
compensation to travel with.

She manages to get herself internal flights from Cairo instead of 
the fully booked trains. And gets the extra open end plane 
reservation her friend had for contingency.

She manages to get a visa, and one day before departure she asks 
them to make it a multiple entry and she succeeds.

And, one week from that date, looking at the clouds from the planes 
window she cant believe she could actually make it. Many of her 
friends were all I disbelief. Many thought she would never make it.

She has the nicest time with her two friends, only interrupted by 
her parents getting worried about her cuz she was at one of those 
countries where the Tsunami hit.

She spends new years on the shore of a beach, three nicely dressed 
girls sitting there watching Chinese lamp shades being blown out in 
the air to shine, chatting, legs wiggling down the wall to the 
beach, only struggling with the international phone card to wish 
their families a happy new years.

She has been asking everybody from the locals about a fortune teller 
without any success. She forgets all about it. But then on her way 
to the airway office she bumps into this Sikh guy with a large 
turban, who tells her her mothers name. He tells her intimate 
details about herself. He gives her the advice of life and tells her 
to pray as her own religion dictates together with meditation. He 
tells her its faith. The secret is to have the real faith in God. 
With that you can withstand anything cruel life might throw at you.

She crosses the border overland and alone. She visits a major dream 
of her life and dwells in the amazing rich history combined with 
exciting beauty of the place. She counts her blessings once more for 
being able to do that in this life time.

After having done all the sight seeing, mingling with the locals and 
breathing in the culture of the place she takes a walk. She walks 
along this never ending street, her lonely planet guide tucked in 
her Rucksack, she has no idea where this street leads to.

She strides forward watching the people in their homes, the plants, 
the Buddhist temples, the children on bikes. It must have been 3 
hours or so since she been walking aimlessly when she bumps into a 
sign saying "institute for revival of traditional khmer silk". She 
of course goes inside.

She meets this Japanese volunteer who shows her around. He tells her 
that out of 1700 original patterns only 300 survived the war. And 
now they are barely trying to save those 300 left. She watches the 
golden pure silk died using only natural dies, spun, dried, woven, 
by older women who show younger ones. She takes a lot of pictures 
and talks with the women.

The Japanese volunteer asks her to go up to have a look at the 
products. She tells him she had no money to buy things now, he 
insists.

He leads her to a big piece hung on the wall and tells her to come 
forward for him to explain the designs on their most precious piece. 
He points to a structure and tells her they believe it to be either 
a temple or a mosque. She sounds very surprised! Mosque? How come in 
this Buddhist country? He says wait, and points to two blank stripes 
framing the piece, and says: we think this is a mosque, because we 
think those blank lines used to be Arabic writing but we 
unfortunately have lost them, we do not know how to make them so we 
produce the piece as it is and leave these two lines blank.

She is very surprised of what she is hearing and asks him, weather 
he has a picture of the original design somewhere. He says: yes, and 
gets out so many old books flips through their pages, page by page, 
the dust flying out with the motion of paper, until he finally 
exhales. Here it is. he says, and hands her the picture in the old 
ruffled book.

She takes a look at the picture and to her shock, those first and 
only words in Arabic that shock her eyes.. لا الله إلا الله محمد رسول الله

She is not excited anymore, she is in shock thinking what was it 
that brought her, the all time skeptic, to this part if the world, 
to walk down this particular unknown street, have her find this 
unadvertised institute, only to read those words after being away 
from anything Islamic for one month living a totally different 
culture.???

How come it was her, who neatly wrote out those exact words again 
for the older women to reproduce in the lands of Buddha...It must 
have been a conspiracy, such things do not happen just like that. 
They happen for a reason, we sometimes just need to listen...

Noha El Shoky
12-06-05

No comments:

Post a Comment