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He hands me the leads and the camel makes a deep groan.
“I don’t know,” I hesitate.
“Imil, camel’s name is Imil. She is gentle,” he says, his English was slow and meticulous.
“Imil,” I state.
“Imil,” he repeats, sending me a nod of assurance.
As I drew closer to pet this glorious animal, I am suddenly very aware of the amount of urine coming from the camel beside me as it flows down their hooves. That would account for their putrid smell that invaded my nose.
“You will ride?” he asks.
“I will,” I say, my hand gently petting the fur of Imil.
Without thinking, I said yes. Camels can carry a bigger girl like me, right?
I quickly grab my phone and type weight limit of camels into the internet search engine. Camels can carry nine-hundred pounds at a time.
Whew! Fucking ridiculous, Amelia.
He grabs my hand and pulls me up to stand next to the beautiful creature beside me.
“Feet there,” he instructs, pointing into the stirrups of her harness.
I place my feet into the stirrups and grasp quickly onto her leads as the camel suddenly stands on her own. My grip tightening against the leather strap of her lead.
“Let’s go,” he exclaims.
The group of seven camels all stand up quickly with a rider on them. My body sways as my center of gravity is dependent on this towering animal below me. As we lead our camels down a walk through the sand, the afternoon sand beams down on us all. I deeply exhale my hot breath, desperate for the heat to let up or a cool breeze. Camels pee on their legs to cool themselves down, and at this point I am not opposed to doing the same thing. My body swayed from side to side with each stride Imil took. If I was prone to motion sickness this would be a horrible ride. It feels like riding a rocking chair with a saddle strapped to a ladder dragged on a gravel road. A loud bellowing grunt escapes Imil’s throat before she turns around and gives a big goofy grin in my direction.
Of course, I got the sassy camel.
The side-to-side rocking motion is rather relaxing to me. Looking across the large sand plateaus, I truly got a sense of how truly expansive the Giza Plaza is. The pyramids in my immediate view made my breath catch in my throat. It’s as if time stood still. After hours of riding through the various sights, I am dropped off pyramid-side by my helpful camel hostess. She lies down with a resounding sigh as her legs buckle underneath her in a hard thump against the soft sand. I kneel down next to Imil as she sniffs my hair and playfully chews on my sundress.
“Can I take a photo with you?” I ask.
She tucks her nose against my cheek and smells my hair again.
“Even though your breath smells like death you are still cute,” I say, closing my eyes to stop myself from inhaling her horrid breath.
I take my phone out from my small bag hanging off my shoulder and take a quick selfie with her. She groans deeply in her throat and nods her neck up and down. I give her one last grateful pat before walking away from her and the crew of camels. I distance myself from the large crowd of tourists and send a quick text with the photo to Finn.
ME: It’s hotter than balls here, but I found some good company. That reminds me, I miss you.
FINN: Who is my competition?
ME: Her name is Imil.
I press send on the photo and he quickly responds back.
FINN: I will gladly share, but only with Imil. You look beautiful. I miss you, goddess.
ME: I miss you.
I pocket my phone in my bag and walk closer to the expansive pyramids. As I turn the corner around the pyramids the Great Sphinx comes into view in all of its entirety. Tour groups piled out of white caravan vans in droves. As they ran towards the pyramids, I walked towards the Sphinx. The coarse limestone under my fingers was unlike anything I have felt before. I stood directly in front of the Great Sphinx of Giza as it towered over me. I felt so small against these magnificent statues of time. I wasn’t standing in a photo. I wasn’t in the pages of my textbook. I am in complete awe. It took twenty years to build these pyramids for these pharaohs revered as gods. The pyramids of King Khufu, King Khafre, and King Menkaure stood tall as if placed there methodically by God himself. It is nothing that could be described in words. I take my phone out of my bag, position myself so the pyramids and Sphinx are in the background and call my father. His face quickly fills my screen on video.
“Amee,” he says happily.
“Da!” I exclaim.
“One stone is almost as tall as you,” he says.
“It’s insane, right?” I ask.
I look behind me, unable to keep the look of fascination from my face.
“You look so happy, angel girl,” he breathes.
“I am, Da. I’m here at one of the seven wonders of the world. Over forty-six-hundred years old and still standing. The sheer amount of history they represent is just mind blowing,” I say.
“You are in your element. I can’t wait to hear all about it as soon as you get home in a few months,” he said.
“You’re still ok? I sent your prescriptions off for refill and you should be getting them soon.”
“I got them. Carol comes by three times a week to check on me and she takes me to doctor appointments. I’m good. This is your time. Enjoy yourself. Soak up the history,” a proud smile gracing his lips.
“I love you, Da.”
“I love you too. How is that Irish man you met?” my father asks with a knowing wink.
“Da!” I exclaim.
“He was good looking,” he says, shrugging his shoulders.
“He is very good looking,” I agree.
“Do you still talk to him?” he asks hesitantly.
“Yes, Da. I still talk to him. Look, I have to go. I’ll call you in a few days.”
“Just remember you are in Egypt, angel girl!” He exclaims.
