148
CAIRO TO DAMASCUS
swarms of flies could possibly see any better by it. The stench
that rushed up from the center opening of the sewer was absolutely unbearable. Ma'alesh! You were supposed to get used
to it.
Upon returning, they sat down at the table without further
ceremony or washing. The table was a circular piece of smooth
wood, about three feet in diameter and set eight inches above
the floor in the center of our room. The food was piled high
on platters. We seated ourselves crosslegged. Then, yallah!
We reached with our hands. First come, first served. I learned
to cat Arab fashion, without knife, spoon, or fork. I would dip
a piece of flat bread, kmaj, into the common pool, holding it
between the thumb and three fingers, scoop the food with a
half turn of the wrist and bring it up quickly, tilting the head
backward to keep the juices from running down the corners
of my mouth. At first aim, I miscarried the scoopful of fasoulia,
and it burst above my nose like shrapnel, distributing the
beans all over my face. Ma'alesh! I pushed them into my
mouth with fingers that were greasy anyway. A few sessions
made me fairly skillful though I lacked speed and finesse. In
due time I acquired both.
"You are now a full Arab," Moustafa complimented me.
Next day it became evident that we'd remain stranded. 1
went with Moustafa, Capta