Travlog 01-13-05

~Last Day of Vacation~
Vi and I awoke at 7:45, showered, breakfasted ("coffee" and bread again), dragged luggage downstairs, then wandered around until time to meet Jason and Auntie M for lunch. It was good to meet the people whose diaries I had been reading for the last few months. There were several times where Vivi or one of the others would bring up a situation that had happened to them and we'd all go, "oh yeah, I read about that -how'd it all end up?" An interesting little shorthand we had going. They were all cool about trying to include me in the conversation, but obviously they really had more in common with Vivi, so most of the talking was done among the three of them. That was cool though, because I know that V doesn't get much conversation in English, and I know it was good for her to hear that she was not alone in her feelings, and all the little annoyances/revelations that come up when one is an expatriot. As for me, I was trying not to be fidgety about getting back to the auberge in time to get a taxi to the airport.
As it happened, we were just in time, and were able to enjoy a leisurely cab ride instead of dragging the luggage all through the metros. I highly recommend it, it's well worth the money. Trust me on this.
I'd read something online about getting a refund on all the VAT taxes if you save your receipts. Something to the tune of 20% of all your purchases. All trip long, I'd been dutifully saving all my receipts, ready for some serious cash refund to blow at the duty-free shops on the other side of the ticket counter. When I got to the refund counter, though, they asked for some triplicate form, they wanted to see all the items that were listed on the receipts (they were in my luggage that had just gotten checked), and there were all these regulations on what type of purchases were eligible for the refunds. I gave up.
I hugged Vivi (she'd been waiting to see what the VAT refund thing was all about so she could tell people on her blog), and we sat there, staring at each other, not wanting the time to be over. I wanted to say so much. Not because there was so much unsaid, but because I knew this was the last chance I'd have to talk to her face to face for a very long time. Some part of me believed that if we kept talking, the time wouldn't pass. But the rest of me knew it would, and knew that anything I could think of to say would be pretty inane at this point, so we said our goodbyes and I headed through the checkpoint. *note: take all camera and any other batteries out of any hidden pockets before sending your jacket through the scanner. whups.* I sat down and did my best to ignore the call of duty-free chocolate while waiting for my plane to board. However, the call of foie gras and truffle butter was too urgent. I am not made of stone. But on what does one PUT truffle butter??
The plane that left out of my gate before mine, was bound for Cairo. There were a lot of dark-skinned people waiting to board. There was a threesome about 30 feet away from me, and I couldn't hear them talking, but I could see what they were doing. One man in simple clothing and a small colorful hat was holding up a small rug. The other two gentlemen, wearing 3-piece suits, were looking at the rug, checking out both sides, and when the first man laid the rug on the floor, the second man took off his shoes and started walking on it. I immediately assumed that thee first man was trying to sell the rug to the second man. But then the first man took out another rug, and laid it on the floor, took his shoes off, and knelt on it. The second and third men did the same, and they all started praying. They all were facing east.
The following is from my journal entry for that day:

Now a second group of three are doing the same thing. One man has beads and is using them. Sometimes the men stand, sometimes they bend at the waist, and sometimes they kneel and touch their foreheads to the floor.

I am constantly humbled here by my own ignorance.