Egypt (2 page)

So, do I regret doing such a jerky thing? Are you kidding? No way. Like I said, he’s my twin. I would have regretted not doing it.

Of course, my mom wasn’t so amused.

“How could you do that to your brother?” she yelled. “You know how much this fellowship means to him. Go apologize right now. Otherwise, I’ll call Dr. Aziz and tell him that Wyatt will be coming to Egypt alone.”

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll apologize.”

If it were up to me, I’d totally let this joke ride another day. Probably two. But, I guess a few hours of torture is enough. Poor Wyatt’s been locked in his room all afternoon, probably pouting over the thought of having to stay at home, farting around with his microscopes and Petri dishes, while I’m blazing trails in Egypt.

Oh, jeez. Too funny!

DECEMBER 14, 8:57 PM


When Gannon told me that he had actually written the letters as a joke and that we’d both really won the fellowship, I almost snapped. A practical joke that cruel deserves serious payback, but at the same time I was so happy that I was going to Egypt I hardly even cared.

I pushed him aside and yelled to my parents:

“Mom, Dad! We won the Youth Exploration Society fellowship! We’re going to Egypt!”

My parents walked into the kitchen.

“I heard,” my mom said, narrowing her eyes at Gannon.

“Congratulations, boys,” my dad said. “That’s quite an honor. When does the fellowship begin?”

“In February,” Gannon said. “We’ll be getting a call in a couple days with more details.”

My mom was already thinking ahead.

“Let me know the dates,” she said. “I’ll call crew scheduling and see if I can work the New York–Cairo flight so we can all fly together.”

My dad couldn’t wait to set up an easel and canvas on a high dune above the Great Pyramids of Giza and make an oil painting. He’s also a great sculptor and was anxious to study the sculpting techniques that the ancient Egyptians used to create some of their most famous monuments, like the Great Sphinx.

“I’m really excited to visit Egypt again,” my mom said. She lived in Cairo for several months when she was in college as part of a study abroad program. While she was there she spent some time working at a learning center for children. “I’m going to call some friends and see about volunteering at a literacy program in the city. Did you know that nearly 30 percent of the Egyptian population can’t read or write? That should serve as a reminder to you boys. Don’t ever take your education for granted.”

Even though our home-schooling routine can be a real pain sometimes, she did have a point. There’s no denying it, my mom is an amazing teacher.

“Since we’re on the topic of education,” she continued, “you better put in some extra study time tonight. Your algebra mid-term is tomorrow.”

Gannon’s shoulders slumped.

“Thanks for the reminder, mom,” he said. “Come on, Wyatt. I’ll show you how to do all those problems you don’t understand.”

“Yeah, right,” I said as we walked off towards our room. “I could do algebra in my sleep. And after that stunt you pulled with the acceptance letter, don’t even think about asking me for help.”

“Fair enough,” Gannon said, laughing again at the joke he’d played on me. “Fair enough.”

FEBRUARY 21
DEPARTURE DAY


Our flight from Colorado was bumpy right after take off, which isn’t all that unusual when you fly out of Denver, but no matter how many times I go through it I still get all fidgety and sweaty and today was no different. After we got to a certain altitude, though, the plane steadied and I was able to kick back in my seat and relax the rest of the way across the country.

Aerial view of Midwestern U.S.

We arrived in New York’s LaGuardia Airport sometime late afternoon with a few hours to burn before our next flight, so we ducked into an airport café and polished off some chicken strips and soggy fries, then went browsing around the duty-free shops. I bought a new inflatable neck pillow and some spearmint gum for the long flight and by then it was time to make our way to the gate.

I’m in seat 36B, a dreaded middle seat. Wyatt’s also stuck in a middle seat several rows back. Of course, my dad lucked out. He’s in an aisle seat, so, naturally, I tried to swindle him out of it.

“Here’s what we’ll do,” I said. “I’ll flip this quarter. Heads I win the aisle seat. Tails you lose it.”

“I may have been born at night,” my dad said, “but it wasn’t last night.”

So here I am, crammed between two Egyptian men who don’t speak a lick of English. It seems my mom should get some kind of preferential seating, being a long-time flight attendant for the airline and all, but that’s not how it works. We have to take whatever seats are available, which, I guess, is the only real downside of the airline’s free flying policy for families. Not that I’m complaining.

The flight from New York City to Cairo is about eleven and a half hours. I’d say we’ve been airborne for about two hours now, give or take, but it seems more like ten. Wyatt told me Cairo time is six hours ahead of New York, so factoring in our flying time and the time zone changes and all that, we should be landing around 4:00 pm tomorrow… that is, if my calculations are correct, and that’s never a given. I’ll say this, whatever time we land, I definitely foresee a case of jetlag in my future.

Since we took off, I’ve had my English-Arabic dictionary spread across my lap and have been practicing some phrases. “As-salamu Alaykum,” is the most common greeting in Arabic. People say it like English speakers say “hello,” but it really means, “peace be upon you.” Of course, “As-salamu Alaykum” is the phonetic spelling, which basically means that it’s written using the English alphabet so that people like me can read it. Written in Arabic, “As-salamu Alaykum” looks like this:

Thank goodness for the phonetic spelling, because I’d have some trouble sounding that out.

My mom’s always said that there’s no better way to learn a new language than to talk with native speakers, so I tested out some phrases on the two men sitting next to me.

“As-salamu Alaykum,” I said.

“As-salamu Alaykum,” each responded.

I looked back to my dictionary, scanning the page for something else to say.

“Kef halak?” I finally asked, which means, “how are you?”

One of them said a bunch of stuff and I didn’t know what any of it meant, but still, I didn’t want to seem rude by not responding, so I quickly reverted to English.

“Okay, great,” I said.

“Great,” the other man repeated.

I looked back to my book.

“Esmak Eh?” I asked, which in English means, “What is your name?”

“Mohammed,” the man to my left said.

I turned to the other man and asked the same.

“Mohammed,” he replied.

“Really?” I said. “You’re both named Mohammed? What a coincidence.”

“Mohammed,” one of them repeated, nodding.

“My name is Gannon.”

“Ganyon,” one of the men said, like “Canyon,” but with a “G.”

“Gannon,” I said again, slowly.

“Gah-noon,” he said, making a second attempt.

“Close enough.”

They both smiled.

I was really having fun talking with both Mohammeds, but to have a real conversation and actually learn something about these guys, like where they’re from and what they do for a living and stuff like that, I’d need to know a heck of a lot more Arabic.

“Right, well, it’s been nice talking to you,” I said and pointed to my dictionary, “but I’m going to keep studying.”

“Yes,” Mohammed to my left said.

“Study,” said Mohammed to my right.

I nodded and just like that, our conversation was over. Okay, that’s enough journaling for now. Hand’s cramping. More later…

FEBRUARY 22, 12:14 AM
NORTH OF BERMUDA
42,194 FEET OVER THE ATLANTIC OCEAN


There aren’t many things I enjoy more than the start of a new adventure, all the build up as the day draws near, wondering what we might see and learn when we get there. And then, finally, the day comes. Well, today is one of those days. We’re officially en route to Egypt, and this adventure holds big promise.

Long flights provide lots of quiet time for reading and writing. I’ve got my overhead light on and all my notes spread out on the plane’s tray table along with a few books that I was able to stuff into my backpack.

Egypt was home to one of the world’s great civilizations. It’s really amazing what they were able to accomplish thousands of years ago. How they did it all is somewhat of a mystery. Fact is, scientists still don’t know for sure how the Great Pyramids of Giza were actually built. And new discoveries are being made all the time. That’s what has me really excited about this expedition. Important discoveries can still be made. Discoveries that could rewrite history!

Archeologically speaking, Egypt has a long list of incredible finds. Th ere’s the discovery of the Pharaoh Khufu’s wooden ship within the Great Pyramid. It’s around 4,600 years old and was built so well, scientists say it could still sail today. Th en there’s the discovery of the Valley of the Golden Mummies, which was found when a donkey’s leg sunk into a hole. It’s a huge burial ground and many of the mummies there are gilded, which means they’re covered in a layer of gold. But the most famous discovery has to be the Tomb of Tutankhamen (also spelled Tutankhamun). Th is tomb was discovered by archeologist Howard Carter in 1922, and was full of incredible treasures, including a solid gold sarcophagus that held King Tut’s mummified body.

Tomb of King Tut, who died at age 19

The goal of our fellowship is to add a discovery to the top of this list.

The discovery of Cleopatra!

During her reign, Cleopatra was the most powerful woman in the world. She was also the last Pharaoh of Egypt and is considered by many to be the most famous woman to ever live. For thousands of years, the final resting place of Cleopatra has been a mystery. There’s no question about it, to find her would be an archeologist’s dream come true!

All right, it’s getting late. Most people on the plane are sleeping. Time to recline this seat a few inches and join them.

Okay then… haven’t slept a wink. As for Mohammed right and left, they’ll definitely be well rested when we land. I mean, these guys have been sleeping like babies—big, scruffy, loudly snoring babies. I asked my mom for ear plugs, but they had already given them all away, so I tried rolling up little wads of tissue and stuffing them in my ears, but that didn’t work so well. I guess tissue isn’t very good at blocking sound. We should be landing in about an hour and it goes without saying, I’m counting the seconds.

Just a little while ago, Wyatt handed me a book and went back to his seat to get some sleep. Inside there was a dog-eared page and a note he’d written that said: “Gannon, must read!”

So I read.

If his goal was to make me nervous about our explorations in Egypt, he did a bang up job. According to this book, lots of people believe that anyone who disturbs an ancient tomb will be cursed. Okay, fine. Whatever. I kind of knew that already, but what I didn’t know was how many stories there are to back this superstition. Take the discovery of King Tut’s tomb, for example. Howard Carter, the archeologist who led the dig, had a canary at the site for good luck. Well, the day they discovered the steps to the tomb, a cobra snuck into the cage and killed the bird. Now, I don’t know about Howard Carter, but if my good luck charm was eaten by a snake, I’d probably take that as a bad sign.