It's 4:15am and I'm not sleeping. Jet lag or nervous about what is to come?
As I sit and sing as part of my morning sadhana, I hear a cry in the distance.
And so, with a bit of fear, I open the window.
What comes through is a sacred and soulful calling, a prayer, a chant.
It's sad, seems it's calling for something, somewhat desperately.
The broadcast comes from the Mosque's loudspeakers and overrides the Hanuman Chalisa that I'm singing.
And so, I listen, and leave the window open and take whatever comes into my being.
A bit later...
It smells burnt here in Luxor - outdoors. Factories? (I later learn this is the smell of burning garbage...)
I see the Nile for the first time - she flows slowly as sludge kisses her edges. And yet she flows ...