One night in July, when the air was pure and the sky was bright like a million diamonds, I woke up without being able to sleep and came out of the cottage that was my home for that night. There was heavy military presence in this tiny hamlet and everything was watched. But within these walls I felt safe.
I was in Egypt, near the Sudanese border. Here what was Nile was now Lake Nasser. Here the landscape looks lunar, except for the emerald green waters. The Nubians are friendly. Earlier that day I had walked to the village square looking for something and in the scorching hear surveyed the complete absence of activity around me. The only traffic I ever saw was military vehicles.
I end up in unusual places.
I walked past the huts and onto the path that abuts Lake Nasser, the largest man-make water-body in the world. I was careful not to accidentally step on any vipers. Standing there alone was an eerie feeling. But I stood there smelling the desert night, not thinking or feeling. Not wondering.
Then I heard a powerful attack being executed in the lake below me. The lake is full of crocodiles and the extent of violence in the water could only have meant one thing.
Water gives life.
What it giveth, it taketh away.
