What's Next?

Many suns and moons ago, my address was:

11 Hegaz Street
Heliopolis
Cairo, Egypt

When I had a driver or taxi, I would tell them in Arabic that "Rayya fi Masr il Gadida, fi Shara Hegaz, numera hidasher - gamb Merryland wa issinema Roxi." (This is the phonetic I learned to scribble down as I learned to speak the local lingo.) It says:

I am going to Heliopolis, on Hegaz street, number eleven, by Merryland and the movie theater.

Our flat was the third floor of a family's building: grandparents lived on the first floor, second generation on the second floor, and our flat was for the son, third generation, after he returned from university in California. We had a family who lived on our patio and under the building, and the man's job was to dust cars off each day and to assist people as they parked their cars. For this, he received baksheesh (tip). His wife and small daughter swept our stairs each day. We also had a man who collected our trash every day. I don't think many Americans have ever witnessed poverty at this level.

Our flat has huge, and we enjoyed stone floors, tall ceilings, tall windows, and 4 balconies. Merryland was a park across the street from our flat. Each morning we would be awakened by either the minarets calling everyone to prayer, or by the lions kept at Merryland. Lions, at least these, were quite vocal just before the break of dawn. To be awakened by roaring lions is something I will always remember. It's kind of difficult to forget...

Now I am in a chapter of my life that does not include minarets, mosques, and lions. My life still includes dust, but not sandstorms. I live among fundamentally religious people...just a different religion - one to which I am better-acquainted. In the early mornings now, I awaken to the sounds of coyotes and owls.

Happy to have had both these experiences, I am.

I wonder...what's next?