Gunda Förster In the Desert I was lucky: Apart from two snorkelers there were also six divers on board. We carried on out on the sea to a reef, which shimmered just below the surface of the intensely turquoise sea. Jumphead under waterand then head up again. I had never seen a reef in the open sea before: colourful corals. and brightly coloured fish which swam around meas though I were in an auqarium. I just could not believe that this really existedwith me now in the middle. Since then, I have understood how one can become addicted. But I wanted to go to Cairo. Hours on the bus across flat terrain. On the horizon a mountain chain, and between just sand, sand, sand. Towns made up only heaps between derelict buildings. Poverty. Along the Nile, the only waterway to flow across the desert. Stop in Luxor: the Pharaohs' tombs. On one side of the Nile lived the people, and on the other there are the tombs. Through a belief in rebirth, death is not the end, but merely a stopping point. Cairo: masses of people on the streets, you see almost only men, lots of soldiers and police with machine guns held ready, collapsing houses, ruins, with people living even there and in the cemetery. Many men have scabby marks on their foreheads from the regular praying. And on the edge of the city, right behind the rubbish heaps, are the pyramids. The blocks of stone lie one on top of the other without mortar between. If, when inside, you strole your hand along the blocks, you can hardly feel the joins. Desert: You drive and drive and drive. And when you turn of the engine, there is suddenly nothing. Your gaze gets caught up in the distance. The sand grates under your footsteps. The sun blazes. Your mouth becomes dry. Catalogue text |
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