The blink of an eye
I heard some news yesterday on the radio, while waking up, the chill of a clear night sky beating a hasty retreat in the face of a golden, southern Californian sun.
A young teenager had stayed out past his parent-enforced curfew. Fearful of being punished and with the imagination of Ferris Beuller, he hatched a plan on the way back home.
An hour or so later, I think it was firemen who were summoned to the scene to find his legs clearly visible and not quite touching the hearth of the fireplace.
Kudos I say, for embracing the festive spirit, and a valiant attempt at escape and evasion.
My groggy chuckling stopped a minute later when fresh news from Egypt came in. Another beating of an innocent by SCAF’s unthinking pawns on the streets of Cairo or Suez. It has happened so regularly of late that I no longer remember the location.
It’s the first time I’ve written anything here for a while, a long while. I’ve wanted to, but well, where does the time go? As important as blogging has become, I suppose one still has to prioritize living.
A significant chunk of that living of late has centered on Egypt. In June this year, fresh out of the darkened cave of an edit bay my eye’s struggled to adjust to the glare of North African sun. With Nadia my half Egyptian girfriend (and partner in crime) field producing from the dubious comfort of a truck or in some cases a bus, 7 Egyptian companions took it in turns to cycle with me on a tandem around the country, telling me about their lives, dreams, and the revolution , the number one topic on every street corner, café – everywhere.
We arrived when the Egyptians had done so much to win democracy already, and for two months I sweated through 50 degrees of desert while the protests carried on in Tahrir Square. And still they continue now, with the largely peaceful protesters getting literally battered and shot up a little more each day. Despite a first round of elections, Democracy seems still to be sitting on a far off fence, wondering on which side to jump. My heart goes out to all my new friends struggling to keep up the fight.
And to the rest of you that I have not talked to in a while? You do not go forgotten. Journeys past are as fresh as ever. As I sit and edit old footage or write some, your face or voice is likely to appear and with it the memories of a thousand adventures.
Thank you for being there. Keep in touch old friends….