Chuck, Ramsesses the Great, and the gods

             Visitors to Egypt—even rascal cats—come to Egypt to see at least two major sights: the pyramids at Giza and the Temple of Luxor. 

We didn't even have to emphasize to Chucky that a trip to Luxor Temple will be like nothing he has ever seen before because he wanted to come.

“Remember the pyramids at Giza,” Dan asks. "On all that sand?"

 

Chucky nods.

“Imagine a complex, filled with gigantic statues.” 

“Luxor" Dan explains, “was the capital of ancient Egypt back in the day.”

“1300 BC,” I chime in. “That’s even before ancient Greece had its Golden Age." 

But Chuck isn’t here to see the temple. He has only one thing on his little cat mind: Ramesses II.

Ramesses II was the pharaoh who ruled for 66 years. A real mover and shaker. He built the entire temple complex.

Chucky knows all of this.

Actually, the people built the complex, but not for the Egyptian people. This place was built for the pharaoh and the priests, a place where they could come and meet with the gods in private. 

Which means they actually believed the gods were there, in the inner recesses of the temple.

Dan tells Chucky that this temple complex was dedicated to the gods. BUT everything—the statues and the drawings (called reliefs on the walls) celebrate the Pharoah Ramesses II.

But, again, Chucky knows everything about this pharaoh, and he can’t wait to see Ramsesses. 

I am in awe of my first view of the temple complex. Humans look like insects in comparison. At the entrance we spot the infamous obelisk on the right and know there is a companion obelisk to this one in Paris.

        As we continue to walk, we spot some of the columns of the temple that have survived.

    

This place is bigger than I expected. I turn to Dan. "I think Chuck needs to be in the backpack, or he'll be trampled because everyone is looking up."

Dan agrees. Chuck is not happy. He prefers to be on his own. He wants to scamper off and sniff. But the temple is very crowded. Finally, we compromise. He climbs into the backpack, but positions himself so he can look out and see the sights, on the lookout, of course, for the Pharaoh.  

We walk around toward the entrance. Now we can see the obelisk more clearly and also some of the statues that are positioned in front of the temple. 

        

 

Finally, we are smack in front of the entrance and facing Ramsesses II. 

        Well, the truth is I'm facing Ramsesses. Dan is kind of walking backwards, so Chuck can see what I'm seeing—his hero. 

         Dan is an expert on Ramsesses. He read his entire biography in French and begins to share with Chuck even more tidbits of his life:

        He is fourteen years old when he becomes pharaoh.

    

        He is married to the famed Nefertari, his first wife and favorite queen. Even after she died, Ramsesses continued to have statues dedicated to her, reliefs done of her. Scholars say he was obsessed with her. 

         Supposedly he is the pharaoh associated with Moses in that wonderful Hollywood movie The Ten Commandments. Ramsesses is the pharaoh who rejects a Moses who demands over and over again--Let my people go--but there is no concrete evidence to support that connection. 

        Ramsesses lives to be 96 years old, has over 200 wives and concubines, 96 sons and 60 daughters. He lives so long that his subjects believe that when he dies the world will come to an end.

        There is no ancient site in Egypt that does not make mention of Ramsesses the Great. 

        Chuck becomes more interested in Ramsesses. When Chuck gets excited, he wants to be walking around and sniffing. That is what is happening now. He begins to meow. The crowds around us moves on to tour the temple.  

        "All right. All right. Just for a minute or two." 

        Now that Chucky's paws are on the ground, he darts over to Ramsesses, sniffing at the base of the magnificent statue. 

         Dan and I are gazing around. We walk around the temple proper and begin to examine some of the walls. The reliefs tell a story of the pharaohs interacting with the gods. 

        Don't worry, though, I have my eye on Chuck. There is no way he is getting lost here. I'm soaking up all the Egyptian history and lore and watching Chuck at the same time.

        In fact, I notice him move away from Ramsesses. I notice him move away from where we are. It is a big complex and he seems to be on some kind of mission. Moving faster now.

        "Dan, it's Chuck."

      

        Chuck can scadaddle rather quickly when he wants to. He is racing now as if being drawn somewhere toward the temple. Suddenly, he seems to disappear around a corner.

        

         "Oh, no." My greatest fear is that he'll go inside, and we'll never find him. Because we've been warned to go in the temple as a group. Don't wander in there alone. An errant thought enters my mind. Chucky in there alone. This temple was built for the gods. Maybe there are still some spirits there . . . some forces . . .

          Dan breaks into a run, headed in Chuck's direction. In a minute Dan disappears. 

          I hold my breath. Now both of them could be headed toward disaster. I try to wait patiently. Everything is going to be okay. There has got to be some reasonable explanation why Chuck ran into the temple. Dan will find Chuck, and they will be back. I know they will. 

        Chuck has not been abducted by the gods.

        Sure enough, I see Dan emerging, unscathed from the temple. He's waving. Chuck is following close behind.

          "What was that all about?"

          Dan lowers his voice. "The kid wanted some privacy."

    

          "What?"

          "Let's just say that all that water he drank earlier, well, he suddenly realized he needed to use the restroom facilities."

            What???? "Chucky, I hope you didn't . . . take a whizz . . . in the . . . temple."

                    Chuck has his lips pressed together. He looks up at me. He's not saying anything, but I can guess what he's thinking. "Mom, a boy has to do what a boy has to do."

    

           

                  

        

         

        

        

The Rascal Cat Can't Sing!

    "Egypt is more than just pyramids," I tell Chucky as we're in the midst of our next adventure. This morning we're 60 miles northwest of Cairo, visiting a famous monastery called Dier Anba Bishoi in Wadi El-Natroun, surrounded by a desert consisting of salt lakes and salt flats. The Egyptians used to extract salt from here. The Christians established their monasteries here dating back to the 4th century.

        Dier Anna Bishoi or St. Bishoi Monastery is named after patron St. Bishoi, who immigrated here and lived in solitude. It is one of five churches and is used only in the summer. It is an oasis with greenery and palm trees.

 

   

        Everything about this place is old. We move from room to room. Chucky is in seventh heaven. The priest takes one look at Chucky, assumes he is a cat who lives at the monastery, and doesn't give him a second glance. Which is good news because this place is a wonderland for Chuck. He is sniffing to his heart's content. 

             We're greeted by a very charismatic priest who gives us a tour and recounts some of the highlights of the monastery's history--the destruction that was done and the many restorations over the thousands of years. Most notably there is a well on the property called the Well of Martyrs where, you guessed it, martyrs were thrown down to their death centuries ago. Today the well still produces fresh water, which is considered to be a miracle.

  

        We pass ancient signs, frescoes, pottery laid out on tables that was used centuries ago and realize that even though this place is a working monastery, it is in many respects also a museum of sorts. 

        Out of the blue, and this is how the universe works, at times, we're invited to a baptism. Now I've attended plenty of baptisms in my day, but never one in a monastery in a desert in Egypt performed in Arabic. 

        Out of nowhere, or so it seems, people have arrived and are filling up a beautifully decorated room--standing around, waiting for the ceremony to begin. Dan and I, and Chuck melt into the crowd. 

 

       

         Another priest arrives and the baptism procession begins. 

              There is incense, cymbal clanging, clapping, singing, chanting and an overall festive atmosphere. Dan is busy snapping photos. I'm in awe, watching everyone as they gather around the parents and the newborn.

        And then I hear him. At first--what is that sound? It's not quite singing--a kind of mixture of mewing and meowing and . . . "Chuck, shshsh."

        But Chucky, who is plastered to my side (thank God), is swaying in time to the chanting that is reverberating through the room. But his singing sounds more like caterwauling. Which is getting louder and louder.

        I'm not going to panic. But I imagine a cat interrupting a baptism would not face an easy fate. I can see it all now--masked men swooping him up and dropping him in the Well of Martyrs!

        I have to get him to stop singing. But he is just so darned cute. I hate to interrupt his reverie. Is anyone else noticing that he's horribly off key? The rascal cat can do many things well, but he can't sing!! 

          I kneel down next to him. "Chucky, no more singing, honey."

          He looks up at me.

          At that exact moment, everything around me goes quiet. 

          I place my finger on Chucky's lips. 

          The priest recites a prayer in Arabic. 

          Chucky goes silent. Is it a miracle? Or . . . I look over my shoulder. Dan, Mr. Hero Man, holds out a luscious treat and Chucky, needing to make a decision, chooses to eat and not sing.  

          Crisis is averted. No masked men will be coming for Chucky. The Well of Martyrs will not claim another innocent victim. I heave a sigh of relief. 

           We've learned one valuable lesson: the rascal cat can do many fabulous things but he can't sing!

Chuck Spots a Bison Burger on Steroids

 

    Yellowstone National Park is a big place. Correction. It is a big, terrifying, dangerous and beautiful place. While you, the innocent tourist with your over-eager sometimes hero cat (a legend in his own mind) are admiring the views,

you could get gored by a bison, if you get too close.

    This, I think, is the main problem when you're a tourist surrounded by wild animals. There are no electric fences or moats separating the animals from the tourists. When you're in Yellowstone, you're in the Wild West.

    As we traveled through the park, safely ensconced in our vehicle, we saw hundreds, probably thousands of bison grazing, minding their own business.

 

   

 Yellowstone is the only place in the United States where bison have lived continuously since prehistoric times. The park's population comprising the nation's largest population on public land--approximately 500,000. At one time, the bison were near extinction. But President Theodore Roosevelt came to the rescue.

    Years ago, I came too close to a bison in a parking lot. Close up, you can see how big they actually are. On average, a male bison stands between five and six feet tall and can be eleven feet long. Their horns alone are two feet long. And they weigh between 2200 and 2500 pounds. They are the largest mammal in North America. But don't be deceived. If you've ever watched them lumber along, you could think to yourself, ah, in a pinch, I could outrun this guy anytime. But you couldn't be more wrong. 

    

     Bison are known for spinning and changing direction quickly. Despite their weight, they can jump fences. They are strong swimmers. And they can run up to 35 mph. 

     

      I knew some of these bison facts when we were in Yellowstone, stopped and got out for a photo shoot. A group of bison were far enough away that I considered us safe as houses. For once, I could relax and just admire the view.  

     Chuck was in seventh heaven. He was all sniff, sniff, and more sniffing as he pawed around, trying to make sense of the ground underneath him. There were a few bushes that attracted his interest. I watched him for awhile and convinced he couldn't get into any mischief, I glanced away. Just for a second.

    Chuck zeroed in on the stream bordering us on one side. I heard the gurgling in the background and didn't think anything of it. It only added to the beauty of the nature scene before us. 

    But I was wiser now. After the boardwalk experience, I'd learned my lesson and wasn't about to let the rascal out of my sight. 

    He's a clever one. He sauntered in a diagonal direction--a little left, then a little right, but from the big view, it was clear to see the belly boy was heading toward the stream. Hmn. Would he jump in? Was he only looking for a drink? 

    He stopped when he was pretty darned close. Maybe two feet from the water. But I was right there behind him. 

    "Chuck," I said, "if you think you're going to jump into that stream or get close enough to get a drink of . . ."

    I saw the bison at that moment. On the other side of the stream. I kept my iPhone steady and began shooting, all the while holding onto Chucky, just in case.

    My first thought was--there were two bodies of water separating us. So we were pretty safe. Bison Boy was busy drinking water and not thinking about us at all. This was the closest I'd gotten so far to one of these magnificent animals so I could really see him. I dawdled. I'll stay here just a minute, I said as I made my recording. There was just something so breathtaking about the moment.  

    A little voice in my head then said, "If he decides to charge you, you'll be a goner. Just at the moment when you realize he's coming for you, he'll already be there. That's how fast they are. Is it worth the risk?"

    I know that bison have poor eyesight, but they have excellent hearing and an excellent sense of smell. It was June. They were losing their winter coats. It was all down to whether he felt threatened or not.

    Then I remembered. Look at his tail. If it's down and wagging, he's happy. If it's pointed straight up, you're in big trouble, and the bison is about to charge. I pulled Chucky closer to me, even as he was squirming to get away. 

    The bison's tail was down and wagging back and forth.

    "You are one lucky Chucky," I said. Nevertheless, I moonwalked back from the stream, holding Chucky in my arms. You never know what can happen when you travel with a rascal cat.