Of for the Holy War!
147
to the lips. The next morning he was the same, save that a
fresh layer was being added to the collection of dirt of the
last few days.
As for the women, they seemed to be the main repository of
filth. Whenever they washed—usually in a contaminated river
—they went into the water dressed, and in groups, washing
their dirty clothes and dirty bodies at the same time. Clay or
a piece of soft wood usually served as soap. In many villages
the women never washed thoroughly except on the occasion
of their marriage and once a year at the feast of Bairam. It was
comforting to see them go around with faces veiled, for the
few who were uncovered were revoltingly ugly.
It was within ten miles of our quarters that the first death
in Egypt's cholera epidemic of 1947 occurred—a small native
village, like ours!
The food we ate was primitive, typical native fare. Our
staple diet was tamia, ground chickpeas mixed with parsley
and onions, seasoned with garlic and blazing-hot pepper, and
fried patty-shape like hamburgers. We had fasoulia, red kidney-beans, the poor man's food because it was so cheap. We
also had fool, fava-beans. We had fool and fasoulia, morning
noon and night, with the addition of raw onions and black
olives. I had no idea how the food was prepared, for no man
dared go into the kitchen where the grocer's wife and relatives
cooked our rations. At times I wondered about the water we
drank. Such things had better be left to Allah, who saw everything anyway. I thought that if I survived this ordeal I'd survive anything.
Our first night here came at the end of a hot and dusty day.
A tiny gas-lamp cast its yellow glow over one corner of the
cell we called home. As the other eleven Green Shirts came
in, they removed their shoes and stockings and wriggled their
toes to let the air circulate between them. Barefooted, some
went to the dark fenced-off enclosure in the courtyard. This
was the community toilet. You brought your own paper. At
night a tiny dim lantern hung inside, but only the buzzing