Dreams From Nepal, page 11
*****
The arrival in Egypt was yet another culture shock for Ram. As busy as Kathmandu had been, it was just a warm-up for what he encountered as he and his friends motored from Cairo to Samalout.
It was not just the hustle and bustle of the towns, either. At least in Kathmandu, Ram had been around people that he was familiar with: their looks, their dress, their food, and their customs. Here in Egypt, all of this was new, and as foreign to Ram as if he had landed on another planet.
And the weather! Ram was used to the heat of Kathmandu in the summer, but here in Egypt, it was early winter and it was still hotter than anything Ram had ever known in a Nepalese summer. And so arid!
He guessed he would get used to it, but as a first exposure, it was almost overwhelming. Ram realized, too, that there would be another language barrier. Though English was spoken widely and his friends assured him that on the job site, that would be sufficient, it was unnerving to be thrust into a place where rapidly-spoken Arabic was everywhere.
Ram accompanied his friends to the small house that the construction company provided for all the workers who were not Egyptian nationals. They showed him where he would be staying: a small but clean room he could share with the three of them. The house was filled with men from all over, who, like Ram, had arrived for the chance to make more money here than they could in their native homes.
Once they had stowed their things, they took Ram on a quick tour of the town so he could get his bearings. They also bought him some clothes that were more appropriate for the climate, both for working and otherwise. As a final trip, they ran him by the office of the construction company so Ram could introduce himself and make sure the owner knew he had construction experience, spoke good English, and was available to start right away.
The “interview” went well and the owner told Ram to report to him the next morning with his friends. He was short-handed and Ram had arrived at just the right moment. His previous experience and language skills put a smile on his face, as well. Ram was excited, nervous, and curious.
They all turned in early to make sure Ram made a good impression on his first day. The room he was sharing with his friends, Adarsh, Nirijan, and Sudi was a simple square, but it allowed each of them adequate space. After his boyhood home in Chandisthan, sharing first the small bedroom with Chandra and Manu, and then, his private space under the steps in Kathmandu, Ram felt this was elegant by comparison.
He had a comfortable sleeping pad, plus a small set of shelves where he stored the book that Roger had given him long ago. He folded his few clothes in neat piles under the shelves. The only other real possession that Ram owned was the photo he had just acquired of himself with Roger at Khudi Bazaar, when he was maybe eleven or twelve. Ram made sure he looked at it each morning and evening to make sure he never forgot the kindness he had been the recipient of. He placed the photo well inside the pages of the book to keep it clean and undamaged, fearing the climate of Samalout might take its toll on it.
As always, Ram began and ended his day with meditation. Adarsh, Nirijan, and Sudi sometimes joined him in his practices, but they often became distracted or neglectful toward this. Ram found himself a solo participant, as he had in Kathmandu.
No matter what had happened during his day, good or bad, Ram always made the time. It had been so instrumental in the direction his life had taken thus far that Ram could not imagine letting it lapse. Even in the darkest times of his early days in Kathmandu, Ram had been comforted and supported by his prayers of gratitude and thankfulness, no matter how small the gift might have seemed at the time.
He wondered from time to time what the Kadys’ reaction had been to his sudden and unannounced departure. Ram still felt a bit guilty about this, but in the end, he knew that his priority now was to take care of his parents. He did not spend an inordinate amount of time fretting over it. They were a wealthy family and he was sure they could easily replace him.
He did miss the comradery with Chandra and Manu, though. The three of them had made such strides together as their friendship had grown, and he would miss that dearly. He thought of them as his own siblings. After all, he had spent more time with them than his own siblings. Ram wanted to let the Kadys know it was not anything that they did, which let to this decision. He guessed they would be taken aback when Roger contacted them, but at least he had saved them a wasted trip to and from Kathmandu. Ram would have wanted to say goodbye to the Kadys in person but may be one less goodbye was not a bad thing for him after all.
Roger was a gentle and friendly man. He was sure that even if the Kadys were angry or otherwise put out over his decision, Roger had been able to smooth things over and explain the situation completely. It was the not knowing that was nagging at Ram. That, plus the very real possibility that he might never see Roger again.
Like a lot of nights for Ram when he began a new chapter in his life, he fell asleep with a storm of thoughts and emotions swirling in his mind. Unlike Kathmandu, though, Ram slept peacefully this first night. He dreamt, but the images were pleasant and serene.
*****
The heat of the morning woke Ram. He wondered how long it would take to adjust to it. The streets outside were already alive with people busy with their day: merchants setting up their wares, children running about playing and on their way to school, women sweeping and cleaning their doorways, plus many more that Ram had yet come to understand.
Spiritual influence was part of this, as well. The sounds and behaviors associated with the area were intriguing to Ram as he watched from the small balcony of their room. He had no idea what the Arabic meant that wafted across the air from surrounding mosques and temples, but it was pleasant to his ear. He smiled, assuming it was just another version of what he practiced.
Adarsh, Nirijan, and Sudi arose just as Ram was completing his own prayers. The four of them washed quickly in the shared bath in the hallway. Then, they stopped at a small stand just around the corner for tea, fuul, and ta’amiya. Ram looked suspiciously at the array of offerings. Both were utterly foreign to him, but Nirijan assured him they were both wonderful.
“What exactly are those?” Ram asked.
“Fuul is the traditional local breakfast,” Sudi answered. “It is an acquired taste, but you will appreciate it greatly once we get to work. It will be a long time until we get lunch break. They bake the pita bread in the stone ovens, then stuff them with mashed fava beans.”
“And those?” Ram pointed to the oddly colored patties that lay on a platter nearby.
“Ah,” replied Nirijan, “ta’amiya is my favorite. Do you know of falafel?” Ram nodded. This had been a popular dish in Pokhara that he had tried once or twice with his father. “They’re much like falafel, but they are much moister. The locals make them with fava beans instead of garbanzo beans. They’re very nice.”
Ram shrugged, trusting his friends. He joined them as they sat on a low wall and ate. He winced a bit as he bit into the fuul, understanding what Sudi had meant about an acquired taste. Not only were the beans cold, but they were a bit bitter. It was only the wonderful texture and flavor of the fresh pita that made Ram appreciate the dish.
The ta’amiya, on the other hand, he found delicious. The tahini sauce that came with them made the small patties utterly delectable to Ram’s palate. He had to agree that this version was a vast improvement over those he had tried back in Nepal.
As they ate, Ram got a quick overview of what they would be working on, as well as some cautions on working as a Nepali migrant. The buildings themselves, he found out, would be very similar to what Ram had experienced in Kathmandu: sand and bricks. He felt good about this, knowing that at least on a basic level, he would have some background as he began.
“If you just follow directions, do not complain, and make sure you are always busy, you will be fine.”
“Be sure to never complain about anything”, they reiterated.
Ram nodded. After all the bumps in the road he had gone through in his early days with the Kadys, he knew how to do this. The new place, new people, new food did not scare him as much. He was still a teenager, but life had put him through enough to give the wisdom of a grown man. He felt like he could take on any challenge and feeling of excitement was clearly visible on his face. This part, he was thankful for.
“The bosses are not unreasonable or mean, but they do expect a full day’s work from us. In general, a lot of our fellow Nepalis and workers from other countries can get taken advantage of. But this company? So far, they have been good to work for. The work is hard, but the pay is good.”
“Others get taken advantage of?”
Adarsh looked to the others for unspoken permission to explain. They just shrugged, indicating to go ahead.
“There is a system of sponsorship in Egypt called kefala. It’s probably in other places in the Middle East, as well. For us to work here, a sponsor is required, but how the sponsorship works varies from company to company. We know a couple guys from India who work under a much different system than we do.”
“Oh?”
“The company we work for? They have the same sponsorship as everyone else—it is required—but we have a lot more freedom. Under the typical kefala, foreign migrant workers can be under a contract whereby they are required to remain here for two years. They cannot leave for any circumstance unless they get permission from their sponsor.”
“Even if there was a family emergency, or a funeral?”
“That is how the typical system works. The sponsor keeps your passport and other documents and will only return it back to the worker after the contract period is over.”
“But not with our boss?”
“No. The owner of the construction company got his start abroad and apparently, he was subjected to a similar type of servitude. It rubbed him the wrong way, so he adheres to the registration with the Egyptian government since it is a law, but otherwise, we can come and go much more freely than some others. All he ever asks is some lead time if you need to go back to Nepal for something.”
“What about an emergency?” Ram was thinking about his parents’ health.
“He will work with you, if necessary. Just go and talk to him.”
“Seems nice.”
“So far, we have no complaints. He pays well, helped us get settled in the house we share, and he has never made unreasonable demands of us on the job site. And the best part? We have always gotten annual leave for the festival back in Chandisthan.”
Ram smiled as they approached the house that was under construction. It was abuzz with activity and they waved to the other workers as they came closer. Ram left his friends to check in with the owner, feeling like he had stumbled into a wonderful situation.
He took the seat offered by the large man as he explained how they worked on the site and what he wanted Ram to do. A lot of what he told Ram reaffirmed what he had heard from his friends. He signed some paperwork, shook the man’s hand, and set off across the yard to begin his new job.
15.
Priya
The work was similar to what Ram had experienced in Kathmandu. He began the day hauling bricks and sand, much as he had when he had helped the workers with the Kadys’ new home. It was hard, but since Ram already had a taste of this kind of routine, he found it easier than he might have if he had no experience.
The thing that was challenging him was the heat. It was almost unbearable, causing rivulets of sweat to pour down his body. One of the workers gave him some hints on how to cope with that and Ram plugged along, making the best of it. Sudi had been right, though; the hearty breakfast had been crucial. By mid-day, when they got a break, Ram was whipped.
He watched everyone around him and saw what they did to regenerate for the afternoon and just copied what he saw. By the end of the day, Ram seemed to have melded in well with the construction team. Many that were strangers that morning were treating him like a good friend by the end of the day. Certainly, his work ethic was a big part of it, but when they saw that he had hands-on experience from Kathmandu, he was soon upgraded from an errand boy to one of them.
Ram was moving much more slowly on the way home with Adarsh, Nirijan, and Sudi than he had that morning, but the day had been a good one. He was tired, but it was a good kind of tired.
Ram was sure each day would be more adaptable for him weather-wise and he was getting the same satisfaction from what he was doing here as he had in Kathmandu. Psychologically, Ram loved the idea of making something, to be able to look one day and know he was a part of some new structure.
As he had thought, it was just a matter of time for him to adjust to the heat. He soon made a reputation as a hard-working, capable, and honest part of the team. There was great comradery among the workers.
Ram got something else out of the job, though, that he had not anticipated: he was learning about other countries and cultures. The team was split among Egyptian locals and other migrants from all over. During breaks and as they worked, Ram talked to his fellow workers to hear of how they had come to be here. He also got a first-hand, practical life lesson on what it was like to have grown up in Egypt. None of them knew each other’s language. However, between few English words, Arabic words, and some gesturing they had no difficulty communicating with each other.
The culture of Egypt was so different than anything Ram had ever been exposed to; he listened with fascination. This was what he was missing, he felt, from just sitting all day in a classroom in Kathmandu: real life experience and real word learning.
In just a few short weeks, Ram felt like he had learned more things that he could use in his life than in all the time he sat in class. It was wonderful. He finally felt like the characters in the TV. He still did not have fancy clothes to wear or delicacies to eat like the people on TV. He was however, seeing new places and learning new things and that was enough.
He met men from various countries in Africa who had come here for the same reasons as Ram had. There was little opportunity for them at home and they needed a better way to support their families. They came from places that Ram had never heard of, such as Libya, Chad, and Sudan. Men came from other parts of the Middle East, as well, and even as far away as Turkey, Pakistan, and India. It was an interesting mix of people, but other than the occasional disagreement, everyone seemed to work together well.
Of all the men Ram met, he made the closest friendship with a man not much older than himself, named Mereruka. His family was originally from Lebanon, but as the ongoing conflicts there had grown and grown, Mereruka moved to Egypt with his parents and sister when he was just five. His father had been a successful importer with a shop right on the Mediterranean Sea.
Ram didn’t know much about the ocean, except what he had read about in The Old Man and the Sea, and he became enthralled with the stories of Mereruka’s childhood home. It was a place called Byblos, located between Beirut and Tripoli. The descriptions of the blue water lapping at the shores and hundreds of boats anchored in the cove lit up Ram’s imagination.
Despite having been forced to flee from Byblos due to numerous conflicts that spilled over from Beirut, Mereruka seemed to have a deep love and fond memories of the town. His father lost most of the wealth that he had amassed in Lebanon when they relocated, but in retrospect, the timing was perfect.
Mereruka had heard hideous stories of what had happened to their neighbors that stayed behind, hoping the wars would just peter out. There was a real look of pain in his face, and his eyes took on a distant, haunted look as he shared this with Ram.
Ram did not push any further with this. He had no idea what might have really happened, but it was obvious that Mereruka was troubled by just the memory. Just the fact that his new friend had been comfortable enough to share such an ordeal with him was enough.
It was the first time that Ram had ever met someone that had experienced such a traumatic life and he was shocked. They had struggled financially ever since arriving in Egypt and he was now trying to help his family, much like Ram was with his folks.
As foreign as the sea was to Ram, the towering peaks of the Himalayas were just as foreign to Mereruka. He sat wide-eyed as Ram shared his stories of growing up in the shadow of the Annapurnas; of the drastic changes in seasons; his excursions to Pokhara with his father; his fortuitous friendship with the American hiker, Roger Garrison, who had been his benefactor to allow him to come to Egypt; and finally, his experience in Kathmandu with the Kadys.
It certainly was not the ordeal that Mereruka had gone through with his family, but it was all that Ram had to offer. He even relayed his sad tale of unrequited love for the neighbor girl and Mereruka joined Ram in laughter when he finished the story.
Ram and Mereruka took to spending their lunch break together. Ram, with his friend’s help, began to learn some Arabic – at least some key phrases so he could communicate with the food vendors and other merchants in town more easily. Mereruka was Muslim and he helped Ram understand a lot of the spiritual practices he was seeing in town. In return, Ram gave him the highlights of his Buddhist upbringing. Lo and behold, as Ram had suspected, the two faiths had a lot in common.
Picking up some Arabic helped Ram all over town; he soon found more and more friends, once the language barrier came down a bit. Other than Mereruka, Ram tended to socialize with just Adarsh, Nirijan, and Sudi, as a lot of the workers he knew were much older and many had families to attend to once work was over. The four Nepali friends and Mereruka soon became fast friends and it was unusual to ever see them around Samalout not in the company of one another.
Ram was amazed once he started getting paid, as well. It certainly seemed to be everything that he had been told back in Chandisthan. He could live well and set aside a large proportion for his family, as had been predicted. He could finally take good care of Ama and Baba like he had promised them. He thought of how amazing it would be to take Baba to Pokhara and be able to buy lassis for both of them. The thought of spending an evening by the lake, drinking lassis with Baba lightened up his face. Tears started rolling down his cheeks, but these were tears of joy. Ram’s hard work and determination was finally paying dividends.
