After our encounter with the mummies, we decide to do something very different. Since we are still in the heart of Cairo, why not visit a mosque? But this is not just any mosque . . .
I know what you're thinking. A mosque? Official definition: a place of prayer for Muslims. Usually they are covered buildings but they can be any place where prayers are performed, including outdoor courtyards. Nowadays, Muslims attend mosque on Friday for midday prayers, teaching, and sermons. Mosques are also used for weddings, funerals, Ramadan festivals, community spaces and sometimes offered as homeless shelters.
The Ibn Toulum Mosque is on our radar because it is special. Chucky wants to know why we want to go there. I'm willing to tell all, but first . . .
"No nonsense, here, Chuck. You must be on your best behavior."
When a cat is listening, really listening, they do everything to act as if they can't hear a word. Chuck is on the ground in front of us, and he decides at that very moment to begin grooming himself. I know Chuck. I know all his tricks. In fact, Chuck is what I call an "over-groomer."
"Chuck, do you hear me?"
But he only grooms more intently. It's as if he's just come in from outside and been caught in the middle of a rainstorm and desperately needs to clean his fur. Utterly ridiculous because he is sparkling clean.
Dan grabs hold of my arm. "He hears you."
"This mosque is one of the oldest mosques in Egypt, in all of Africa," Dan explains in his most patient voice, directed mostly at Chuck. "And it's the largest mosque in Cairo."
Chucky stops grooming and blinks once. Does that mean he's actually listening and is impressed?
"Listen, buddy, it's built around an open square courtyard. There's a covered hall on each of its four sides. The largest hall faces Mecca." (the holiest city in Islam.)
Before Chucky can blink or groan, I ask, "Who built it?"
"The then Governor of Egypt had it built in 876 AD."
"Whoa, that was a long time ago."
"But that's not the best part . . ."
I'm hoping there will be something even more exciting. We are now walking into the main entrance. The place is big. I read somewhere that the grounds cover close to six acres of land.
"The locals believe that this mosque on a hill was built on the exact spot where Noah's Ark landed after the flood."
I glance over to see the expression on Chuck's face. At the moment he's focused on a stream of light that's shooting down into the courtyard. I'm busy looking around at this magnificent place.
"Anything else that's exciting?" I ask.
"They made part of a James Bond film here."
"Really? Which one?"
"The Spy Who Loved Me."
One thing about Chuck--other than the History Channel, he doesn't care too much for film. Not even James Bond.
"I think we better keep moving."
Dan points. "To the minaret."
One of the distinguishing features of this mosque is the minaret.
It is a tall, slender tower with a balcony from which Muslims are called to prayer.
Immediately, we decide we should go to the top because we want to see the million dollar view of Cairo.
"To the very top?" I ask.
Dan nods. He loves a good challenge. Even if it means climbing a few thousand steps around an edge where there isn't any edge to hold onto, where you're really high up and far from the ground. I could do it because heights don't freak me out but Dan?
As we get closer and closer, I remind him, "Aren't you afraid of heights?"
No answer.
We get to the first stage of the minaret and admire the magnificent views of Cairo.
I see the minaret in the distance. I'm happy where I am.
Dan takes off. With Chucky.
I figure they will be gone a good twenty minutes or so. It is a beautiful morning. The air is fresh and clean. So, I'm a bit surprised when suddenly they're back--like eight minutes later.
"Well, how was it?"
"Chuck changed his mind. He didn't want to go."
Chuck? The rascal cat? The kid that hardly ever steps away from an adventure? He changed his mind? There has got to be more to the story.
"What happened?"
"Nothing. Really. We were on our way up. And we got to that first bend." He points to that part where there is no ledge at all as you go around.
I nod. Totally understanding. More than he thinks I understand.
"We were pretty high up off the ground."
Images flash back. When we climbed up the pyramid that time on that rickety metal ladder-like structure that had a railing that ended just at the crucial point where Dan needed it most.
"Chucky is afraid of heights, I suppose," I say.
No answer.
"Well, you can't blame the kid. A phobia is a phobia."
I look down at Chuck. I'm not going to say he's rolling his eyes at his dad's version of the story but he's doing whatever cats do to show me there's no way that's what happened.
I lean down and whisper, "I know. I know." Then I sneak him a secret snack. A mom's gotta do what a mom's gotta do.
