In the Cairo house once belonging to famous Egyptian artist Chafik Charobim
filled with beautiful things
and beautiful guests
there was a dinner party.
Everything
was so
delicious.
The artist’s
vivacious daughter, Marion
had not only her father’s book
but also many of his original works.
Oh lucky girl…..
Louis Greiss. I had been charmed by him from the beginning. It wasn't just because of his influence (which was considerable) or his journalistic prowess (which was yet more considerable) . And it wasn't even his ability to so smoothly navigate Egyptian waters as part of the Christian minority (although, I admired that, too).
But it was his character, his generosity, his kindness. And perhaps most, his sense of balance and fairness.
He had been married to one of Egypt's greatest film stars, Sanaa Gamil. A love story that had lasted 41 years. He told me that the secret to marrying a successful woman was to realize that you had married not just the woman but the talent, too. That you had to fight against a desire to reduce her, to be jealous, to be demanding. But rather to revel in her gift. Because, after all, you loved her for that, also.
Oh that Sanaa Gamil....She knew a good thing when she saw it........
I was thinking about how we all grow and change. I was thinking about how different I am now from the person I was 10 years ago, from the person that I was 20 years ago. I was wondering about the person that I will become in 10 years and in 20 years from now. Life, it all goes by so fast. I was wondering about how I could better become the person that I want to be. More generous, more patient. Less frenetic, lighter. A better mother.
We all evolve. Are we evolving in the right direction? I wonder.
Room of the Visual Voyager at Peacock Pavilions. Vintage Algerian kilim with magic numbers, old hand embroidery around the doors bought on assignment in Kyrgyzstan, antique Buddhist temple painting from Thailand, vintage Shia'a print bought in the Marrakech souks.
In the next few months, I am going to transform this room. It's time to evolve it into something new. I wonder what it will become?
PS I'm in Cairo on assignment.
She was French. The kind of girl who was vegetarian, who loved India, who recycled. She had dreadlocks. She spoke many languages. She had home births.
Oh, you get the picture.
One night there was a dinner at her house in Marrakech. She lived in a plant nursery (her husband's business) where she had an organic cafe (her business). She had invited six of us (lucky, lucky).
The dinner was her ode to mother nature. (Did I mention that her name sounded very close to Aurora?) We were told to dress appropriately; I wore a dress that looked like the sea on a stormy day.
The almost-Aurora-girl had made a beach just for the occasion. We took off our shoes. We dug our toes in the sand.
It was evening. There were candles floating in a basin.
And lanterns in the prettiest colors.
There were drinks, bien sur.
And something akin to sheer pleasure...
Foot baths for each of us among the petals. Why, in flower pots.
And raw food canapes. Oh!
Inside, a small potted jungle awaited.
The table covered in petals, both printed......
and real...
And even delicately carved flowers on our plates, of the edible variety.
After we had had our fill of blossoms, there was desert.
Buddha was gazing at us serenely as we left late that night. I thought I heard him say that in the next lifetime the almost-Aurora girl would come back as the sunset. But perhaps that was just my imagination....
