Rascal Chuck and the Heliopolis House Adventure

             The gig is up, as they say. We have no option but to tell Noah the truth. Especially after Chuck lets out another BIG MEOW.

 

         “Yes. He’s our cat. Chuck.”

 

         Noah opens his mouth to say something. Probably, the usual. Cats aren’t allowed in . . . but he doesn’t. We’re long gone from the seminary and finally heading toward Dan’s house in Heliopolis. We all know that getting into the house, at this point, will be a long shot. There are always complications in Egypt. So, Chuck being there, amazingly, is less of a threat.

 

         Which is super good news because finally Chuck is interested in what’s going on. He wants to see the house. We have no idea why except that maybe we’ve been talking about it for the last year or so . . . Chuck maybe imagines it to be some grandiose structure, surrounded by catnip gardens.

 

         Anyway, all Noah does is nod and then the focus is on finding the house. Dan still remembers his address after many years. He’s said it out loud every so often. It always sounds totally incomprehensible to me. Luckily, he can spell it—in Arabic—and Noah has put it into his GPS so we find this illusive house without too much trouble. We park the car and hit our first obstacle.

         The gate keeper. Now, in America, you encounter a gate with a guard (and clipboard) only when you want to meet a very wealthy or very important person, and you usually have an appointment. Here, in Egypt, we have no appointment. The gate keeper only speaks Arabic, and Dan’s house now belongs to a church. 

 

         Dan’s Arabic has slowly been coming back since we arrived in Egypt, but it’s not nearly good enough to explain why we want to get inside the gate and see the house. Noah tries to explain in his faltering Arabic. For some odd reason, the gate keeper gets it and lets us through. Miracle #1

 

         He doesn’t even blink when he sees Chucky. Miracle #2

 

         But the house is locked. A phone call has to be made. To the head church guy. Who has to agree. He does. And then he has to find the grounds keeper who has the key. As we’re waiting, we’re offered a soda. It seems the idea that Dan grew up in this house enthralls everyone. In fact, a guy shows up out of nowhere insisting he used to play baseball with Dan. The guy with the key shows up and unlocks the house. Miracle #3

         

            We’re in. Chucky’s in. It’s only polite to wait for a tour. Dan is looking around trying to remember which room is which. The house is now a kind of meeting place for church officials, fund raising projects, etc. There is no sign of anything from when he lived there—only the  rooms are the same and yet different—the kitchen, dining room, the bedrooms and the porch out back. 

 

         Chucky, however, has taken a different view. He’s going to sniff out the entire place. Leave not a corner unsniffed. He is determined to get his fill as if he’s been comissioned with writing a report on this house once we’re back in America. He's also being very secretive about it. 

          We begin walking room to room. Dan is enjoying this trip down memory lane, gleefully recounting stories of how they belonged to the local swim club during the summer. Of how he used to take the local tram across town to take piano lessons when he was ten. 

 

         “Where is Chucky, by the way?” Dan suddenly asks.

 

         “Somewhere sniffing.”  

         Dan doesn't look surprised. 

         "What's going on?"

      

         "Well, I might have implied that there's a small garden of . . . " 

         Sure enough, Chucky has somehow found his way outside and is sniffing the perimeter of the house, in search of the supposed garden. Outside a bunch of boys are playing ball.

          "Is there any catnip back there, really?"

          "I had to find someway to keep him happy."

           "You're right. He was moping around. But you know, you gave him mission impossible." 

            "He should be thanking us."

           Now, of course, we feel incredibly guilty. 

           But all is well. The boys spot Chucky and run over to pet him. He is the center of attention. Which he loves. They decide to make him the mascot for their team.

            Chucky never finds the garden or the catnip. But the rascal cat is purring away and that makes all the difference. 

 

 

Rascal Chuck--a Missionary Cat

 

 

         We feel so bad for him. Chuck has had enough of Egypt. Enough of mummies. Enough of churches and mosques. He wants to go back to the hotel and veg out. 

        The problem is—we haven’t yet seen what we came to see. When we say to Chuck, we still have to see Dan’s house, we don’t mean the one in the states. We mean the one in Egypt. The one he grew up in. In Heliopolis. 

         When you have missionaries for parents, you can live just about anywhere. Dan, his two sisters, and one brother lived in a rather large house. They had a cook, a gardener/gatekeeper, and a governess. That house still exists and now belongs to the Egyptian Evangelical Church. We want to see it, and we want to go inside.

Unfortunately, Chuck has to come with us. We try to explain all this to Chuck, but somehow he gets the wrong idea.

         I think it starts when we meet up with two missionaries who have agreed to help—Noah Park and his wife. They live in Egypt, and they have a car, which is a big bonus. We’re eager to find the house. But they have their own agenda.

         “Don’t worry,” Noah says, “we’ll find the house. But first, we have to go to the seminary.”

         That’s where Dan’s father worked while Dan’s family lived in Egypt.

         “You want to see the seminary, right?” Noah asks.

         The real answer is no. Dan doesn’t really want to see it, but he’s caught. If he says no, it won’t look good. Truth is—he wants to see the house. And Chuck wants to go back to the hotel. So he's immediately suspicious. His eyes get big and his ears are twitching back and forth. Seminary?? Why are they taking me to the seminary?

         How exciting can a seminary be, you ask? I have no expectations. I want to see the house. BUT we’re in for a big surprise. 

         It’s a nice brick building, all right, and still to this day, the center of the missionary efforts that are going on in Cairo. Noah leads us inside. You must traverse a long hallway. There are photos posted on the wall to your right.

         Dan spots his father in one of the group photos immediately. He's in the front row, last man on the right side, wearing glasses. The photo is dated 1964. That’s cool. He’s part of history.

       Politely, we look at the other photos. At this point, I’m in charge of Chucky. He is not being a cooperative cat. He doesn’t want to be here, and he doesn’t want to be carried around as if he’s an invalid. 

At least I think that's what the problem is.

         His position is clear—if I have to be here, let me at least walk around and sniff the place out. I can’t smell anything up here. And I can’t really see anything.

         But, it’s tricky. I know for a fact Noah wouldn’t approve. Cats in a seminary?

         “Wow.” Now Dan is pointing to an older photo on the wall. Dated 1863. His great grandfather, J.R. Alexander. He was a missionary in Egypt, too. There he is, long beard and all, posing with a group of all missionaries.

         Noah gets excited. Now, we’re more than two Americans looking for a house in Egypt. We’ve been promoted to royalty. He wants to pull us into meet the head guy who is in charge here at the seminary.

         Dan follows him. I make a rash decision. I put Chucky down. “Stay here. Sniff all you want. But do not leave this room. And try to make yourself inconspicuous.”

        But Chucky looks like that's exactly what he wants to do--leave the room. Leave the seminary.

        "What's the matter?" 

        He looks around as if he's going to be abducted at any moment.

        "Chuck, you don't think . . . no, that's not why you're here. We're not signing you up to be a missionary cat. No. No."

        Chucky heaves a big sigh of relief. 

         "You poor deluded boy."

         Then I run after Dan and Noah.

         “Do you know who this is?” Noah is already introducing Dan to his boss.

         Now everyone wants to shake our hands. Get to know us. Give us the ten cent tour. Unfortunately, they have a museum upstairs—all of one room. Dan goes up to see it. I beg off, thinking this is crazy. All we want to do is see the house. Plus, I’m worried that Chucky left to his own devices too long is bound to get into some kind of trouble.

         We are on our way out of the seminary. Chucky is waiting by the door.

         I hurry ahead and scoop him up. “You're supposed to be inconspicuous,” I whisper as I slide him into the backpack. The poor rascal cat looks exhausted or rather traumatized.

         We pile into the car. Dan gives Noah the address. Finally, we are on our way to the house.

         For some unexplainable reason, Chuck lets out a skin curdling MEOW.

         “Is that a cat?” Noah asks.

 

         TO BE CONTINUED . . .

Rascal Chuck and the Holy Family?

        This is my idea and not Chuck's. Seeing the place where the Holy Family stayed centuries ago is not his idea. In all honesty, I'm not even sure if he knows who the Holy Family is. Chuck has never been to church and never meowed a prayer. He probably doesn't have a religious bone in his cat body.

        Still it's hard to pass up opportunities when they fall in your lap. Dan and I are in Cairo, Egypt, visiting the Hanging Church and very, very nearby is the Saint Sergius and Bacchus Church. Which means nothing to most people but if you know your history, you know that you are about to walk into a place where Mary and Joseph and the infant Jesus most likely, most probably stayed when they needed to find refuge from King Herod's decree--called the Massacre or Slaughter of the Innocents. Herod ordered the massacre/slaughter of all male children who were two years or younger and lived in the vicinity of Bethlehem. (He'd heard the prophesy that Jesus was coming.) Bingo. That's all Joseph needed to hear. He left Israel and came to Egypt.

        "Should we even bring Chucky into this Church?" I ask. 

        "I'll keep him in my backpack." 

        It sounds like a good plan. Of course, we have to explain where we're going so we give the rascal cat the shortened version of the story that brings us here. Important people. You don't know them. They stayed here. Many years ago. In fact, Joseph is believed to have worked at the Babylon fortress, an Ancient Roman fortress built around 30 BC. while they were here. 

        Babylon, at that time, was a town of some importance, we tell Chucky, as we are entering the Church. But he's already midway to a catnap.  Frankly, I'm relieved. The last thing I want is for him to do something crazy. Not in this church. Please.

        We learn that Babylon was the headquarters of three legions of soldiers who insured that Egypt stay under Rome's control.

       We learn that the Church is dedicated to Sergius and Bacchus, soldier-saints martyred during the 4th century in Syria. 

        Inside the Church is the crypt where the Holy Family rested, which I'm most anxious to see. We put the backpack with Chuck in a pew in the corner. Chucky is still napping. His eyes are closed. So far so good. 

    

  

    

    The crypt is ten meters deep. I stare at it for a long time.

        There is only one more thing to see. The well that the Holy Family drank from.

        

       I can hardly believe I'm here. I look around and frankly don't know what I expect to see. Perhaps, a vision? I know that's a bit ridiculous, but just the idea that Joseph and Mary and Jesus, who I've heard about all my life, were actually here in this very spot is unnerving. 

        I'm amazed that other people around me are walking around like they're in Burger King or something. Some are laughing. Pointing. Missing the significance? Is my faith deeper than I suspected?

        Rascal Chuck, for the first time, behaves like a very normal cat. He could have jumped into the well, for example. Or he could have made a scene in the crypt. But he causes no trouble. Outside the Church, when we're in the van, going back to the hotel, we give him a handful of his favorite treats--those chicken flavored Temptations. As a reward.

        Then we're worried. Is he sick? It's not like Chuck to be so well behaved. But he's munching away and purring so our fears are laid to rest. Maybe, he does know after all, that we were in a very special place. 

        No sense getting on His bad side! 

Rascal Chuck Goes to School in Egypt

        It's not what you think! 

     We journeyed to Egypt for two reasons. We wanted to see all the cool Egypt stuff--the pyramids, the mummies (stay tuned next week) and to ride a camel, but we also wanted to see where Dan went to school. No, he's not Egyptian, but he spent a good part of his childhood there, living in Heliopolis, on the outskirts of Cairo and going to an American School, a boarding school called Schutz, in Alexandria. 

    So, one afternoon, we hire a cab and drive to the school, with Chuck, of course, to pay a nostalgic visit. Our cab driver is wonderful. He gives us a lesson in Arabic as he drives like a madman through the crowded Alexandrian streets. He drops us off in front of the school (where we hand over our passports while visiting) and waits while we're escorted around the campus for hours. 

    We decide not to disclose that Chuck is with us. Even though cats are well-loved in Egypt, they are not welcome in school. 

    "Chuck, mum is the word. No meowing. A nice lady is going to show us around. After that, we'll let you out to sniff."

    Chuck is not a happy camper. But Chuck is also naturally curious and wants to sniff so he agrees to keep mum while we revisit Dan's school years. Schutz is no longer a boarding school, and it has changed and not changed. 

      Schutz is located smack in the middle of Alexandria.

    

    We pass the basketball court (updated and upscaled),  the swimming pool (which wasn't even there), and the tree, which Dan remembers climbing again and again. Yeah, he was a kid, after all.

     We reach the building, which served as the dorms years ago, go inside and are able to walk the hallways.

Dan poses near the staircase he used to slide down as a boy! There's a photo of him sliding down in the yearbook.

    We find the cafeteria, which has been revamped and the library, which looks the same as Dan remembers it.  

     Our tour guide takes us to her office and somehow manages to find old yearbooks. 

    All the while, Chuck has not made a peep. Not a meow. 

    "Is he okay in there?" I ask.

    We're finally alone. The tour is about to end. We have one more place to visit--the auditorium. When we get there, we let Chuck out so he can sniff around and stretch his legs. Dan spots a piano and goes over and starts playing. 

    Suddenly the door to the auditorium opens and our nice lady tour guide appears. "Hey," she says, "I didn't know you played the piano."

    My first thought is Chuck. Where is he? Can she see him? How is she going to react to a cat in school?

    Before Dan can say a word about piano playing, her laser beam focus lands on Chuck, who in that exact moment pops out of the shadows. 

    "Wrong time to be friendly," I want to shout aloud, but in a split second I decide I'll just pretend I don't know this orange and white fur ball. This is just a strange cat showing up out of nowhere scenario. Happens all the time.

    "Oh, my God," she shouts. "There's a cat."

    Dan is just about to say the worst possible thing. I know he is because he's stopped playing the piano, turns around, and is staring at Chuck. He'll want to solve the problem. Explain the mystery away.

    "Oh, I wouldn't worry about it," I interrupt. "It's just a cat."

    She looks at me as if my head just exploded, and then immediately transforms herself into a kind of generalissimo. "Cats aren't allowed at Schutz. No pets. No animals of any kind."

    Dan is looking at me, trying to figure out why I'm not telling her that we know this cat. This is our cat. Our Chucky. But I have a better idea.

    I smile broadly. "We're just leaving now. We'll take the cat with us. We'll handle it."

    She looks at us very suspiciously. And begins walking towards Chuck. 

    I realize in that moment that she's on to us.

    "Run, Chucky, run."

    He does. Chucky doesn't do a lot of exercise in his regular life, but he can run when he has to. He makes a bee line for the auditorium door and shoots through it, disappearing into thin air.

    I run after him. Dan runs after me. 

    "Where do you think he went?" I ask.

    We look to the right. To the left.

    Dan spots his tail disappearing under the iron fence that skirts around the Schutz property. Keeping things in and out. In short order, we run down the path that leads out of the Schutz compound, retrieve our passports and scoop up Chuck, who is conveniently waiting. (Only slightly out of breath.) We find our driver, who is parked on a side street near the school. 

     The driver doesn't say a word about Chuck as we scramble into the back of the taxi. When we arrive back at the hotel, they do a sweep under our car for bombs. He doesn't say a word about that either. 

    "Did you have a good day?" I ask Dan.

    "The best."

    I turn to Chuck. "School isn't always this exciting, Chuck."

    But Chuck is purring. There's nothing like being chased and almost getting caught within an inch of your life. In Egypt. On school grounds. Where you're not supposed to be. 

    That Rascal Cat!

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