1965

This is a letter I wrote to our children the day after we returned from a four day trip to the Greek Orthodox monastery of Mt. Sinai.

Some explanation before the letter. The Sinai Peninsula at that time, 1965, belonged to Egypt. It was returned to Israel and I have heard that a good road runs from Jerusalem to Mt Sinai and there's even a hotel there now, so with all that, we couldn't have had the fantastic experience we had then.

Something about the people with us. I mention Chris and Helen. Chris was a college classmate of Burt's whom we had met from time to time over the years. She was in the diplomatic service, and was stationed in Rome while we were there for a few months, and then she came to Egypt, and spent the last two years of her career in Cairo while we were there, so I got to know her very well, and we have traveled together often since those Cairo days. She's a very active 89 year old and lives in Kansas. Helen was a friend of Chris' who first met in Venezuela while Chris was stationed there, and Helen worked for an oil company in Caracas. Helen was retired and traveled the world for years, lived in San Francisco the last years of her life, but died in 1993. In 1965 she was spending a few months with Chris in Cairo. Since Chris and Burt had to work weekdays, Helen and I spent many happy hours exploring Cairo together.

I also mention Otto Meinardus in the first paragraph. He was a German, but was the minister at the community church in Ma'adi, which was a small residencial town a few miles from Cairo. He also taught at the American University in Cairo. His chief interest was in the Coptic religion of Egypt, and he conducted these tours around Egypt and to Jerusalem and Mt. Sinai on many of which we joined him. I mention other people on this trip and their positions to illustrate what an interesting group of people we were privileged to meet while we lived in Cairo.

As becomes obvious, we didn't take our own cars, but hired cabs, which like everything else in Cairo then, and probably still, were broken down to begin with.

Initials I use - AID, which stands for Agency for International Development; NAMRU, North American Medical Research Unit, USIS--US Information Service.

Dear Children:

Well, we've had another wonderful experience in the people we've met, the friends we've made and the things we've seen.

Much of the trip was quite wonderful, part of it very unpleasant, more so for some people than for others.

We left our apartment about 2:15 on Wednesday afternoon, (March 24, 1965) got a cab, picked up Chris and Helen, and went to Ma'adi where we joined the party at Otto Meinardus' house. Burt chose the cab he thought looked best and preempted it before anybody else could choose it. The four of us had it to ourselves although a few cabs had to take five passengers. Our party consisted of 41 people, five of whom were German professors who were on a study and holiday tour of Egypt, and had gotten to go along through Otto's invitation

Leaving about 3:30, it took us almost an hour to get through Cairo itself and on the Suez road. Then it was another hour and fifteen minutes to the Bel Aire Hotel in Suez. The weather was lovely, the driver very careful and good. There is practically nothing but desert all the way to Suez, but we met lots of cars, mostly army trucks, and there was considerable army activity along the way. Read when we got back that they had been having exercises on the desert.

We and another couple were put in the Misr Hotel across the street from the Bel Aire, but neither one could be considered a first class hotel even in Egypt. Before dinner we met for announcements and introductions to our fellow "pilgrims". Most of them I had met or knew by sight. There were Mr. & Mrs. Huddleston, with AID; Tom and Vivian Given with AID; Richard and Eleanor Ketterman, with the Embassy, and their young daughter, Ellen; Kristin Wallwork from Nashville with NAMRU, and her roommate, Carol Robinson with the Embassy; Gertrude Cox and her niece, Catherine Template. Gertrude, a famous statistician, is professor Emeritus of the University of North Carolina, and now with the Ford Foundation; Barbara Lipscomb, whose husband is head of the Ford Foundation here; Bernard Bench, a geologist from Colorado, also with the Ford Foundation. Then there was also Margery Harrison, the librarian at the American University and her teenage children, David and Mae; also Kay Steward, a lovely blond fifteen year old, who is spending a semester in the home of her aunt and uncle, the economic attache at the Embassy; there were five Pan-Am Oil company people, Reagan Dees and his wife, Betty, and three other wives, Mary Frazer, Nancy Baker, and Mickey Temple. There was Dr. Thornton Penfield and his wife, Ruth. He is a retired minister from New Jersey, now minister at St. Andrew's church in Cairo. There was Dr. Paul Jamison, his wife, and 18 year old daughter, Sandra. He is the doctor at the American Mission Hospital in Tanta, some 75 miles from Cairo. His parents were missionaries in Tanta, too, so he was reared there, and yet he's still so very American. Then there was Jean Helgerson, for whom this was her third trip to Sinai. Her husband is head of USIS, and she has been the organizer for all these trips as long as we have been here. There were the Carters, a young couple with the Canadian Embassy. The five Germans were all professors at Hamburg University, four were theologians, one an Eyptologist. So with the four of us, I think that makes 41. Of course, our wonderful guide, Otto Meinardus.

The dinner at the hotel, as expected, wasn't anything to write home about, and we all went to bed right after it, for our next day was to start at 1:30 AM.

Breakfast at the Bel Aire was at 2:00 and by 2:30 we were on our way to the point where we took the ferry across the canal. This was about 8 miles - or is it kilometers - north of Suez.

After crossing the canal, we drove several hours before daylight, and it was very cold in the car, but most of us got a little more sleep.

For the first hundred miles we were within sight of the Gulf of Suez, and the road was all hard surfaced, though in various states of repair. There were oil wells pumping along a good bit of this section, though they were not so numerous as I have seen them at other places. There is also some manganese mining in this area. The considerable traffic on the road surprised us, as very few people live here. The country is mostly desolate desert with low dry mountains, and every few miles a police check point, where the drivers had to get out their permits.

No arrangements had been made or instructions given for the group to stay together, so our car and one other went ahead, but stopped at one of the check stations. Here we waited for an hour for the others to catch up. Finally the other car went back, and found the rest of the caravan - there were ten cars altogether. They had just made a major repair on one of the cars. Shortly after this, we turned away from the Gulf, and soon we were off the paved road. The next ten or fifteen miles were just awful. There was no fixed roadway, and each driver had to choose his own way. The sand was deep in spots and our driver drove very fast though very competently. We were stuck once or twice, and so was everybody else. Somewhere in this section, or may be it was before this, one of the cars was abandoned, and the people and luggage transferred to other cars. It did reach the monastery that night after the rest of the cars did.

We had expected to get to the Wadi Feiran, where there is a rest house by 11:00, but because of the breakdowns and the very bad roads, it was at least one o'clock before we all got there. We had a lovely lunch from supplies brought by our party - all those wonderful commissary supplies. There was Kraft cheese and bologna, Kraft mayonnaise, Heinz pickles, mustard, instant coffee with Pream, and with local bread, oranges, bananas, carrot sticks and cucumber slices. We were supposed to climb a mountain here, but due to the delays, we weren't able to do that but we did visit the ruins of an old monastery. The Oasis of Feiran, where the rest house is located, is supplied with water from a stream which also provides enough to maintain a lovely palm and olive grove. Stone fences built up around the gardens help to hold water from the occasional heavy storms.

Beyond the Oasis the road was less sandy, and so far as I know, no one got stuck again. All the way up from the Gulf after we left the paved road, we had been traveling in a wide river bed between surrounding mountains. As we left our lunch stop, the mountains came closer and closer to our road, and were higher and more rugged. It is an awesome sight, but doesn't make sense to me as the "wilderness" through which Moses and the Children of Israel are supposed to have traveled for forty years. To my midwestern mind, a wilderness is a forest, and here there are few trees and very little plant life of any kind. The only other life we saw were some Bedouins with their goats and camels, and a few soldiers in an army truck who were supposed to be watching for hashish smugglers.

We were the second car to reach the monastery which is at an elevation of about five thousand feet and the Mountain of Moses (Gebel Moussa) where God is supposed to have given Moses the Ten Commandments is 7375 feet high. The monastery is a tightly packed group of buildings set down in a very narrow valley between two rugged mountains, Gebel Moussa to the back and Gebel El Dir to the front. It was a wonderful sight in the early evening light, and we were so thankful when every car finally pulled in before dark. We all had to wait until Jean Helgerson arrived before we could get our rooms, since she had charge of the arrangements. I was put into a five bed dormitory with Chris, Helen, and Mrs. Jamison and Sandy. Burt was put into the men's dormitory with 15 other men in our party. The rooms were adequate but minimal. Burt said his room had only one chair, and 16 single cots. No wash basins or stands, no mirrors or chests or tables. The bathroom for both men and women had two toilets, one each for men and women, and one Oriental type toilet, and two wash basins, only cold water. And of course, there was the usual lineup for the toilets, especially in the morning and before bedtime. We had one chair, one chest, and a table with a wash basin and a big pitcher of water, so we could brush our teeth and wash in our room. Each room and the bathroom opened up to a roofed but otherwise open balcony. There was no heat in the rooms, and going out on the balcony was even more uncomfortable.

Two kitchens and dining rooms were available. A group of army officers had come in just before we did, and had taken the smaller kitchen and dining room which was fortunate for us. Burt and I were both on kitchen duty the first night, and we were so thankful because we were never any less tired than we were that night.

Since the problem of providing food for such a large group for so many days was a real accomplishment, I will tell how they did it. About four of the women of the group were put on the committee, and with help from people on previous tours, they bought and organized every meal we ate during the four days we were gone, starting with car snacks for our first morning out. These were graham crackers, Hershey bars, and hard candies packed into a bag for each car. The special foods for every meal were put together in a single box, each chore listed and assigned to one person. Each of the four women was in charge of one day's food. She showed the cook crew for each of the three meals in any one day about the things that had to be done. Everybody had a chore for one meal sometime during the four days.

We had eggs for breakfast the first two mornings at the monastery and these had been broken into glass jars and frozen. We had two or three ice chests to keep some of the perishables, but most of our food wasn't that perishable. Another supper we had chili and bean mixture over rice, I think instant rice. Our fresh vegetables were always carrots and cucumbers, and lots of oranges and bananas. Everything had been thoroughly washed at home by the committee. Our breakfast juices were grape juice, pineapple juice and tomato juice. There was corn flakes for one breakfast with canned fresh milk. I can't imagine what a task it would be to have tried to prepare the food without the American commissary supplies. A group of friends, who don't go to the Ma'adi church, are planning a trip through an agency, and they are taking cooks along, but they won't have as good food as we did. We didn't have to wash dishes, and had some help in the kitchen by servants in the monastery. All the cooking was done on what is called a "prima stove". We don't know if they use kerosene or alcohol for fuel, but they certainly worked fine. The monastery generator worked only from six AM, and since the breakfast crew was usually on duty by 4:30, they had to work in the light of a kerosene lamp. At night, the generator was only on from 6:00 to 9:00.

For lunch we always made our own sandwiches, but the lunch crew sliced the bread, cheese, ham, and set out the other supplies. The committee also brought soap for dishes, and toilet paper and Clorox. They did a wonderful job. They said the food came out just right except they had more cookies and oranges than they needed.

After supper on Thursday night, we were all dead tired, but Otto insisted each night on a session where he explained or gave discourses on what we were seeing. After that we all flopped into bed, and by 9:00 o'clock everything was quiet.

Our day started around 5:30 with breakfast at 5:45, and making our lunches before or after eating. One group left about 6:15 for their climb up Gebel Katrina, but Dad and I were going to climb Gebel Moussa and had another hour. Otto conducted a tour around the monastery in which Burt participated, but I felt that I just had to conserve all my strength to make it up the mountain. About 7:30 we came out to mount our camels for the first part of the trip. Eleven of us had camels, several others walked all the way up. The Jamison family all walked, and the four Germans, too. Burt rode a good part of the way, and then changed places with Otto. I found riding a camel great fun, and while riding up, enjoying the very spectacular scenery, I was so grateful that I determined not to be unhappy when I got back to Cairo, at least for a while.

It's quite a trick to get up on a camel, especially if your legs are short. You get on with the camel sitting down. The camel driver had to get a rock for me to stand on, so I could get a little more height, otherwise I would never have been able to get my leg over the saddle. Camel saddles don't have stirrups like horses' saddles. Once on the camel, it's another trick to stay on while the camel gets up. A camel rises first with his hind legs, then bends down even farther in front before raising itself on its front legs. Once you know what to expect, you can bend backwards during the second step. Once on the camel, I could ride for a long time if the saddle is comfortable, which mine always were.

The grade up this side of the mountain was very gradual, the weather pleasant, although some of the women complained about cold feet. Farther up it was colder and windy. The mountains here are very barren, very rocky, rugged, and spectacular. There is just no describing them. Somehow, I had never imagined Mt. Sinai of the Bible, this Gebel Moussa, as being very high or rugged. At first all the walkers kept ahead of the camels, but after a while, some of them dropped behind. After about two hours on the camels, we got off, and the rest of the painful way was on foot. I had heard that there were 700 steps going up. I can't verify this because I didn't have any extra energy left to count. The amazing thing is that there are actually steps all the way, built with large rocks. How many, many hours, days, and months of labor some pilgrims so many years ago devoted to the building of these steps. How Moses ever made it without steps is another question. No wonder he spent forty days on the mountain. It must have taken him that long to get up and come down again. Three of us women were always at the end, and Barney Bench, the geologist, stayed behind to help us with our bags. He's 58, but living in Colorado and being a geologist, he's used to mountain climbing and had no trouble.

As we approached the top, there were patches of snow in the north crevices, and flurries of snow fluttered about us. Some of the women were terribly cold, and Burt said he was cold, too, but I was never uncomfortable. Eventually, we all made it to the top, and I signed my name in the guest book with the rest. Normally, Otto conducts a short service outside the church at the top, but because it was so cold, he just read a short sermon about the significance of Mt. Sinai, and we started down again. The church is Greek Orthodox, and we couldn't hold a service in the church.

Since I was having trouble with my camera, I spent some time fixing it, and by then others were way down, and I didn't have time to look around at the top. I didn't even see the Mosque, which I knew was supposed to be there. I also couldn't take any pictures going down.

We retraced our steps down the stairway, almost to the point where we left the camels, and then turned another way down to the monastery. We stopped in a little basin with one lone cypress tree, very tall and beautiful, called Elijah's tree. There is also a small chapel here. We ate our lunch and rested a while, then continued down a long stairway. "They say" there are 3000 steps down to the base of the mountain at the monastery. Most of the way is not difficult although the steps are not evenly spaced, but it's just the constant pushing down that wears out certain muscles. The last few hundred steps, of course, were the hardest. It was about 1:45 when we reached the back gate of St. Catherine's, and I flopped onto my bed for rest.

I had barely gotten down when Burt came by to say that Otto was going to start a tour of the monastery in a few minutes. It had been scheduled for 5:00, but now it was starting an hour earlier. So I changed film and dragged myself out. We saw the refectory where there are hundreds, maybe thousands, of "graffiti", made by "pilgrims" over the centuries. We visited the main church although there are 24 chapels altogether in the compound, built at different times and by different groups. The monks are now and have always been Greek Orthodox, but many different cultural and national groups came as pilgrims during the Middle Ages, and each wanted its own place to worship.

The main church has several chandeliers from Russia, made, the monk said, of 14 kt gold. Most of them were covered to protect them, but one or two were exposed. There is marble from from Ephesus on the floor, and wonderful large decorated candles from Nurnberg which have been there since the 1700s. They look fresh and new. The walls are lined with icons from all parts of the world, some quite beautiful, others more ordinary. Some are touched with gold. They represent church art from the third to the 13th Century, and are the largest collection in the world. They are not only in this church, but also scattered around, some apparently just in storage. Going through two other chapels at the back of this church, one comes to the Chapel of the Burning Bush. This is an exquisite little chapel with tiled walls and Persian carpeted floor. Many of the best icons were hung here. It was getting dark by now and Father Moses, the "boss" monk who was accompanying us, held a lighted taper up to the pictures, which are never covered with glass. I was concerned that continued use of candles would blacken the pictures. One sees such carelessness often in Egypt, especially in Luxor. I saw the Burning Bush just outside - a shoot from the original which is supposed to have been here - but I wasn't impressed by it.

From here we climbed three flights of stairs to the library which is noted for its great collection of books and more icons. Also here are housed some more of the monastery's fabulous wealth. There were jeweled swords and crowns, fancy vestments, and many more icons including the oldest one in the monastery going back to the Third to Fifth Century. (Can't find the exact date, though we were told.) I didn't get to see the books at all.

By now it was almost six o'clock and dinner was called. We had wieners and beans, apple sauce, canned plums, cookies. After dinner we gathered in the lounge where Otto discussed what we had seen, but I know I was too tired to remember anything he said, and I heard others say the same.

This day was sort of a traumatic experience, and a mistake so far as I was concerned, and several other people felt the same. We got up very early as usual. By six-fifteen we were supposed to catch cabs to take us to the base of St. Catherine's (Gebel Katrina). By 6:45 we were on our camels and on our way. Burt was in difficulty almost right away. His saddle was too small or made wrong, and he was cramped into his saddle most uncomfortably.

We rode along a lovely valley and river bed with well kept olive trees, a few citrus trees, and several lovely cypresses. The garden was walled and cross walled with stone fences to conserve whatever water might fall. Farther on was another lovely olive grove which had been carefully pruned, and looked very well kept. The grade here was easy and the riding very pleasant with the terrific craggy mountains all around.

Beyond the second olive grove we started to climb and the sight of the camel caravan as it zigzagged up a small hill was a beautiful sight. For a while then we followed a river bed. The path seemed very easy while the camels were doing all the work, but when we came down, it seemed ten times as rocky and steep as it had going up .

After a considerable ascent, we had to get off the camels and walk a while. Someone said it was only a five minute walk but to me, it seemed like forever. I should have stopped right here. I couldn't move ten steps without being out of breath and every step was painful besides from my muscles still being sore from the day before. If I could rest long enough, I felt all right, but I hated to keep others waiting. I finally did make it to my camel, but by then the driver had moved out of the way of other camels and gone maybe fifty feet higher up which was a real crisis for me. I just didn't think I could make those extra fifty to 100 feet. Once on the camel again, I was fine and having a good time. After some further ascent, we had to get off the camels again. I don't know why we had to get off at the places we did because the path seemed as rocky and steep in places where we rode as it did in the places we walked. At this second disembarkation place, I decided I just couldn't go on, and told Burt to go on if he wished. However, after sitting down for a while, and after having lost sight of everybody, I decided I would just stroll along, taking all the time I needed to get to the top of a ridge which was plainly in sight now. Pretty soon, coming through a rock wall, I could see the party again, and saw they were riding. I had thought they would have to walk all the way to the top. So I decided I could make it to the camel again, and again the driver moved the camel several feet farther up the trail before he let me mount. But I made it and rode to the crest of the mountain that was just before me. All the while, the scenery was terrific - rough, tremendous mountains, very barren and awesome.

When I finally rode over the crest, I could see the others on their camels and a long way over and up, there was Gebel Katrina with its church at the top. My driver said I had to get off here and walk again. He just wanted to discourage me from going farther because he didn't want to have to go all the way. When I realized that every step up meant an equally long way down on foot, I decided to call it quits. I guess the camel driver did me a favor, but I was provoked by him anyway.

I sat down on a rock in the sun and watched the others through my binoculars. I could see Burt walking and decided he couldn't take the camel riding any more. I was most distressed to see him making that extra effort to walk up, although one of the Germans had given up his camel long before. Then for a while I lost complete sight of Burt and I didn't know if he had turned back or was still continuing up the mountain. The camel driver was interested in my field glasses and asked to use them and was quite impressed. Later other camel drivers on their way down also asked to look through them. When I finally got my glasses back, I could see Burt starting down the crest where the camels had stopped. He hadn't attempted the last few hundred feet to the very top and the church. He said the altitude (8400 ft.) made him slightly nauseated, and he started down after just a few minutes near the top. I could watch him with the binoculars and it took him about 50 minutes to come down to where I was waiting.

We continued down right away in order to lose some more altitude before we sat down to eat our lunch. I was terribly concerned about him because he had walked so far up as well as down again, and he had worn blisters on his toes, he said, which were very painful every step. However, he recuperated much faster than I did, and I should have worried more about myself.

The path was very rocky and steep as we plodded down, hour after hour. He left the crest of the hill about 10:50, got to me at 11:40, and it took us until after 3:00 to reach the cabs at the bottom of the mountain. Although it had looked like such a pleasant path going up, it looked and felt tortuous going down. We finally dragged into the monastery about 3:15-3:30. The others had all overtaken us near the end of the trail, and most were riding the camels from the second olive grove. I didn't know we could have ridden that way, and saved myself somewhat, though Burt said he couldn't possibly have gotten on a camel again.

When I got back, I just went to pieces, not so much from fatigue, although that was contributory, but to the reaction from the terrible albeit unconscious fear of having something happen to either of us up there on the mountain after the camels had gone down. Although young people also break legs or sprain ankles, I don't think older people like us, and out of practice, should take such chances, especially after such a difficult day before. The thought of the problems involved in getting someone out in case of accident or illness, just terrified me, and so when I finally got back to the monastery, I had a psychological reaction. I just went to bed, and didn't go out again that night. Barbara Lipscomb, who's so much younger, is also completely worn out, and had Dr. Jamison check her.

I was also very disappointed that I haven't seen as much of the monastery as I think I should have. I took a roll of flash pictures last night in the church, but none outside at all. Burt has a few outside. I feel we made an awful mistake not to have spent this day at ease just wandering around the monastery, not breaking our necks trying to climb a mountain, that is after all not too different from a lot of other mountains, but this monastery is so special, and so very remote and difficult to get to, we almost missed it entirely. Chris who has a cold, has been browsing around for two days, and had a lovely non-exhausting time, and really got to know the monastery and its monks. Certainly, having climbed one mountain should have been enough for us.

We were scheduled to get up at 3:45, with breakfast at 4:15 or some such horrible hour. I presume we about kept to that schedule. We had delicious chicken-ala-king on toast for breakfast, and made our sandwiches as usual for lunch. We were supposed to be ready to leave about 5:00. In order to avoid the problem of some cars going ahead and leaving behind the slow cars, every car was assigned a place. It worked for a while, although there were lapses. The way out on the poor road seemed shorter and less difficult than going in, which it, of course, was, since we were going down 5000 feet to the sea coast instead of up 5000 ft. There were some breakdowns, and Gertrude Cox's car lost a wheel. The bolts just wore right through the wheel. Soon after we got on the paved road, there was a flat tire. After that everybody seemed to forget about the poor car, except us, who had the best car, and were assigned the last place, which we kept.

We were scheduled to stop at Moses' Well which is only a few miles from the canal crossing. Since we had stayed behind the slow car, we were farther behind than before. The poorest car was going slower and slower, and finally conked out, but by then all the other cars were out of sight. If they had stopped they could have redistributed the passengers and luggage in a few minutes, and saved the people in that car much worry. We took one passenger, and hurried on to get one of the other cars to pick up the stranded people. However, before any other car could be gotten out, the old car came limping up.

By now some of the cars had already crossed the ferry, and we were waiting. Suddenly, there was a wild scramble. We were told to grab our luggage, and dash for the ferry. We didn't know why, but once on the ferry we could see the first ships of the convoy bearing down on us. If we hadn't made it on board, we would have been stalled for several hours. Two of the cars were left behind, but of course two drivers including ours, were saved having to make the last lap of the trip to Cairo.

Across the canal we were crowded into the available cars for the short trip to Suez, where we rested for an hour at the hotel while the cars were serviced. With two cab replacements, we started again for the last leg of our trip, only to have two more misfortunes.

Just outside Suez, one of the cabs hit a man and seriously injured him. We were following and had to turn around to get another cab from town. The driver had to go to jail although the passengers were not detained.

A few miles later, another cab completely broke down, and the passengers and luggage were redistributed. From Suez we had another passenger, a Dutch girl, who with her sister, had hired a car through an agency. The car was new and in good condition when it left Cairo, but it wasn't suitable for the rough and rocky roads, and had broken down. Although it had made it to the monastery, the girls were afraid to go back with the driver, and had begged a ride with our party.

Arrived at 15 Shari Nabatat about 8:00, two very weary and sunburned "pilgrims".