‘May it be the same with us,’ Aida murmured, looking up at her husband fervently. ‘Both of us have known the dawn mirage, now let’s pass on to the perfect day.’
As she lifted her lips to receive Phares’s kiss, the false dawn fled from the sky above, leaving them in the true and living sunshine of a mutual love.
About the author
Q and A With Hannah Fielding
What was it like for you, growing up in Egypt?
My home town is the ancient and historic city of Alexandria, and although I left Egypt some time ago, the wonderful memories of it are still very vivid in my mind. Stretching some forty kilometres along the north coast of Egypt, it is known as the Bride of theMediterranean, and certainly in the 1950s and 1960s, the city was a beacon of Mediterranean culture.
The Alexandria of my childhood was so much more cosmopolitan than cities like Luxor, and even Cairo. Wherever you went, there was a wonderful mixture of Oriental and European dress and languages. Whether in the road, in restaurants or at the cinema, you would hear a medley of languages. There were Egyptians, French, Italians, Greeks, Armenians and English people, Christians, Muslims and Jews, all happily cohabitating under an azure sky, in beautiful old villas built in the Italian belle époque style, with lush gardens and fragrant orchards. For this community, and for most educated Egyptians, French was the lingua franca (at school, nuns drilled us in Arabic and French), while English was mostly used for business. So, my friends and I conversed in French – and those early childhood friends were mostly foreign, and every Friday afternoon, we would go to the cinema with my Greek, Armenian and Italian classmates.
Most shops and factories were family-owned by not only Egyptians but Greeks, Jews, Armenians, Syrians and Italians. Grand names come to mind, like Shamla and Cicurel, Gategno, Orosdi-Back, Benzion, Sidnawy and Hannaux department stores, where you could find all the latest fashions from Paris and the most beautiful silk fabrics; patisseries and tea shops such as Delices, Athineos, Pastroudis, Boudreaux and Fluckiger, which served the most mouth-watering cakes and ice creams; and Tomvaco, which sold delicious chocolates and candied fruits. (I especially remember its stuffed chocolate dates.)
Compared to the experience of the average child in Egypt in those days mine was in many senses a charmed childhood. We came from a well-connected family and lived in a sprawling house overlooking the shimmering Mediterranean, and my sister and I rode our bicycles around acres of lush grounds at my grandmother’s house. We were also lucky enough to experience much of the culture that flourished in Alexandria at that time and my parents used to take us regularly to the theatre and to performances by world-class ballet companies like the Bolshoi and Leningrad, and La Comédie-Française. In many ways, I led a privileged and very cosmopolitan life but it was the quintessentially Egyptian flavour of life that was so dear to me, growing up in Egypt.
I loved the market in Alexandra too: an animated, good-humoured and crowded place, its veiled dim light filled with flickering shadows, the atmosphere redolent with exotic scents, the fragrance of oriental herbs and spices, orange blossom, musk and sandalwood; the guttural voice of stallholders and shouting hawkers calling out their produce. It was also a meeting place for all kinds of entertainment. There were the usual storytellers sitting cross-legged on the ground surrounded by children; the fortune teller with her basket of shells accosting buyers and crying out piééé-piaaa (I still don’t know what it means!); the seller of baladi bread riding his bicycle, zigzagging in and out of the crowd, balancing on his head a flat trellis with a heap of the delicious oatmeal loaves; or women carrying a goose, duck or chicken on their heads who, despite their burden, had the most magnificent carriage.
On the beaches, like San Stefano, Miami and Montazah (the fabulous grounds and beach of King Farouk’s palace which, after the revolution in 1952, were opened to the public), and in the cafés and restaurants, the loudspeaker radio blasted out a medley of Italian, French, English and Greek songs to its international clientele. When I listen to songs from this era now, I am transported back in time, to a life that seemed light-hearted and full of mirth.
The importance of family is a strong theme in Song of the Nile – is that true throughout Egyptian culture?
Yes, absolutely. Family is of the utmost importance in Egypt and family values are deeply engrained in the culture. Rich and poor alike will always put family first. Families are close-knit and supportive – and, typically, large. My grandparents on both sides had six children, and indeed, many of our relatives lived with us in the family house in individual apartments spread over the sprawling belle époque villa in Alexandria. In many families, marriages stay within the family circle; there is no ban on marrying cousins and it actually used to be encouraged. Newly married couples may well remain at home with the family rather than leave and start a new home. This way, several generations of a family live together, sharing the work of housekeeping and caring for each other, young and old.
For Christians, Christmas and Easter are events that bring families together. I lived in Alexandria, but most of my family lived in Cairo, so every year we made the two-and-a-half-hour drive through the desert to spend these feasts with the family in Cairo. For Muslims, Eid is similar; it is an important time for families to get together. By the time I was a teenager, many members of my family had moved to Alexandria, and so every year on Good Friday, after Mass, my father used to throw a big family party at our home. I remember the adults around a very long, grand table and we children around a smaller one; sometimes there would be as many as eighty people.
Sham El Nessim is another time that families come together. Dating from the time of the pharaohs, it is a festival to welcome spring and it is celebrated by Muslims and Christians alike. On that day you will see clusters of families picnicking in the parks, by the Nile in Cairo, or on the beaches of Alexandria. How I loved playing on the beach with all my cousins that day!
Determined to keep us close, my maternal grandparents started a tradition: each Sunday, they hosted their children and grandchildren for lunch. I remember those lunches so fondly: the beautiful dining room, the delicious meals, the chatter, the laughter. After my grandparents passed away, one of my aunts continued the tradition, until we were all grown and some, like me, had spread their wings. I hope that I will be able to do something similar for my own children and grandchildren someday, when we are all reunited in the same place.
Why did you choose to set the book just after WWII?
If Alexandria was a city with a European influence, one could say that Cairo had the look of an Arabian city invaded by the West. Here in the capital, the post-war era was a time of escapism and making hay while the sun shone – of enjoying frivolity, glamour, romance.
For the aristocracy, the British, and international officer class, the Gezireh Club in Zamalek was a place for equestrian prowess, for tennis tournaments, for polo and cricket. For the league of irregular troops of men and women for whom Cairo was a brief stopping-off place before a mission, the Shepheard’s Hotel, the Mena House at Gizeh and the Villa Belle Epoque in Maadi were havens where legendary parties were held. There were shooting parties at the Oasis of Faiyum, extensive picnics at the Pyramids of Gizeh and Sakkara, and luxurious boat expeditions on the Nile in Luxor and Aswan, where the rich and famous congregated in their boating flannels or serge and linen skirts. The Palace and its various members held extravagant balls, where an elegant elite of Egyptian and foreign men and women in French designer outfits danced the night away. Bejewelled women, glittering in their long ballgowns, attended the very best ballet and opera performances at the Khedivial Opera House.
It was a time of beautiful, carefree people, a time of living for the moment, where past, present and future melded into one – a time when glittering Cairo was compared to Paris and when prosperity saw the Egyptian pound stronger than the Sterling pound. Indeed, I chose to set Song of the Nile in post-war Cairo for its bygone era of romanticism, when people lived oblivious o
f what was to come; a fairy-tale age of hedonism that would never return.
What is it about Egyptian culture you love the most?
There is so much I love – that I miss – about Egypt. Dishes that are a staple in Egyptian culture, like ful medames, a hearty, creamy fava bean dish loaded with flavour from ground cumin, fresh herbs, tomatoes, a hard-boiled egg and zippy lemon juice; and koshary, a very popular street food made with rice, vermicelli, lentils, pasta, onions and tomato sauce. Wherever I have lived since leaving Egypt, I have looked for Egyptian ingredients in stores, but it is not always easy to find these.
I miss the warmth of the people – the man in the street who will rush to help you if you have a flat tyre or fetch you a glass of water, should you feel unwell; the ghaffir’s (porter’s) wife in Upper Egypt, who will welcome you back home from your travels with her homemade feteer meshaltet, a pastry dish made with layer upon layer of pastry with ghee in between, or a plate of basboussa, a semolina cake sweetened with orange blossom water, rose water or syrup. The people are so kind, and curious too: Egyptians love to know what is going on, to be part of the community.
I miss the keen Egyptian sense of humour that is so revealing in proverbs like ‘El erd fi ein omoh ghazal’ (The monkey is as beautiful as a gazelle in his mother’s eyes), ‘Ya wakhed el-erd ala maloh yeroh el-mal we yeod el-erd ala haloh’ (If you marry the monkey for his money, the money will go and you’ll be left with the monkey) and ‘En kan habibak asal matlhasoush kolo’ (If your sweetheart is made of honey, don’t lap it all up; meaning don’t take advantage of kindness).
I miss the Moorish architecture, with its elegant arches and domes, and its mashrabiyas, those lattice windows behind which one can imagine the beautiful women of the sultan’s harem in One Thousand and One Nights. I miss the neoclassical buildings, the belle époque villas with their well-tended orchards and gardens, their magnificent gates edging palm-fringed avenues.
Last, but not least, I miss the landscape of Upper Egypt: the Nile, on which the feluccas (sailboats) glide serenely as they have since antiquity; the endless fields stretching afar, peppered with tiny villages with their mud walls and winding ways fringed with palms, where people still follow the traditions of their ancestors. Here is a place far removed from the trappings of everyday life; here is a place of deep-abiding peace.
Why do you think people find Egypt so enduringly fascinating?
To know from where we have come is a powerful driver for all people, and so naturally Egypt, as one of the great ancient civilisations, is intriguing.
What makes Egypt special and its history and mythology and culture so enduring? I think it comes down to a single, very powerful feeling that Egypt inspires: wonder.
Of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World, two were Egyptian: the Great Pyramid of Gizeh and the Lighthouse of Alexandria. Today, the Great Pyramid at Gizeh is the only one of these wonders to remain intact. This tomb, believed to have been built for the Pharaoh Khufu, dates back to c.2560 BC. To enter this structure today, thousands of years later, it is hard to put into words what an awe-inspiring experience it is.
To this day, Egyptologists are still uncovering treasures from the distant past, such as the well-preserved mummies in coffins recently discovered at the Saqqara necropolis in the desert outside Cairo. The ancient custom of burying the dead in beautifully decorated coffins and tombs (and, for the rich, with their treasure) means these relics from the past tell us colourful and compelling stories of the people who lived in this land long ago – romantic, dramatic stories of kings and queens, and of mighty gods and goddesses. By studying their hieroglyphics and artworks, we can know so much about these ancient people; we can work to unlock their secrets and mysteries.
It is this unearthing of the past, this thrill of discovery, that most draws us to Egypt, I think. For thousands of years, it was a glorious nation, at the heart of the Mediterranean world, but then Alexander III of Macedon built his great empire and Egypt’s culture was eventually buried by Greek and Roman and Arabic influences. When we discover an artefact, then, we are unearthing a lost civilisation: a wonder indeed.
Beyond history, both ancient and more recent (the rebuilding of the Great Library of Alexandria has been particularly exciting), I think the allure of Egypt is the sense of timelessness here. Take a romantic felucca ride on the Nile with your loved one and you will see around you a landscape that seems so untouched, and people who have all the pride and values and warmth of their ancestors. Egypt is a place where past and present coexist; a magical place where it is easy to imagine that the blazing sun that watches over the land from above is the ancient king of gods, Ra, the giver of life.
Find out more at www.hannahfielding.net
Egyptian food recipes
Osta Ghaly’s Basboussa
3 eggs
¾ cup granulated sugar (150g)
1 cup yoghurt or sour cream (245g)
½ cup butter, melted (113g)
1 tsp vanilla extract
1½ cups semolina (250g)
½ cup plain flour (65g)
1 cup shredded coconut (100g)
1 tsp baking soda
¼ tsp salt
Almonds to decorate
For the syrup
1½ cups (250g) caster sugar
1½ cups (350ml) water
2 tbsp lemon juice
1 tsp rose water or orange blossom
1. Preheat the oven to 180°C/fan 160°C/gas mark 4.
2. Beat the eggs and sugar in a bowl with an electric mixer until light and pale. Mix in the yoghurt or sour cream and then the melted butter, followed by the vanilla extract and beat on low speed. Finally, add the semolina, flour, shredded coconut, baking soda and salt. Mix gently until combined.
3. Transfer the mixture to a baking pan and spread evenly with a spatula. Score evenly into squares with a sharp knife. Place an almond in the middle of each square. Bake in the centre of the oven for 35–40 minutes or until golden.
4. While the cake is baking, make the syrup: add the sugar to the water in a saucepan and bring to a boil, stirring. Now stir in the lemon juice, then the rose water or orange blossom. Reduce the heat and simmer gently for 10 minutes. Cut the cake again and pour the syrup over the cake while still hot and leave to cool before serving.
Koshari
One of Egypt’s national dishes and a popular street food.
3 cups (700ml) of water for boiling the rice
Enough water for boiling the lentils and elbow macaroni separately
2 cups long-grain rice (400g)
2 cups black lentils (380g)
2 cups elbow macaroni (300g)
½ cup vermicelli pasta (75g)
3 tbsp vegetable oil
2 medium onions, peeled and diced (not too fine)
1 cup cooked chickpeas (170g)
Salt to taste
For the sauce
2 cups crushed tomatoes (450g)
1 cup (240ml) water
1 large diced tomato
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp ground coriander
1 tsp sugar
2 minced garlic cloves
Salt to taste
For the dressing
½ cup (120ml) white vinegar
1 cup (240ml) water
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp ground coriander
1 tsp paprika
½ tsp red pepper flakes
1 tbsp sugar
2 minced garlic cloves
Salt to taste
1. Boil the rice until almost done, and the lentils and pasta all separately until cooked, according to the packet instructions.
2. Heat the oil in a frying pan and fry the onions until transparent and lightly golden. Add the cooked pasta, fry until brown, then add the cooked rice. Add 3 cups (700ml) water. Cook for 3 minutes on high heat. Lower the heat and simmer until done, about 12 minutes in all. If needed, add extra water. Add salt to taste.
3. While the pasta mixture is cooking,
make the sauce. Combine all the ingredients in a saucepan and cook over low heat, stirring. If the sauce becomes too thick, add some water (the sauce for Koshari needs to be light). You can also make the dressing by combining all the ingredients in a separate bowl, then set aside.
4. Arrange the pasta mixture on a serving dish. Add the lentils, then the pasta/rice mixture and the chickpeas. Pour some of the sauce over the top, then the dressing. Alternatively, you can serve the sauce and the dressing separately.
Also by Hannah Fielding
Burning Embers
Hannah’s mesmerizing debut novel
Set in the heart of Africa, Burning Embers is a tale of unforgettable passion and fragile love tormented by secrets and betrayal.
On the news of her estranged father’s death, beautiful young photographer Coral Sinclair is forced to return to the family plantation in Kenya to claim her inheritance.
But the peace of her homecoming is disrupted when she encounters the mysterious yet fearsomely attractive Rafe de Montfort – owner of the neighbouring plantation and a reputed womanizer, who had an affair with her own stepmother. Despite this, a mystifying attraction ignites between them and shakes Coral to the core as circumstances conspire to bring them together.
It is when Coral delves into Rafe’s past and discovers the truth about him that she questions his real motives. Does Rafe really care for her or is he hiding darker intentions? Should she listen to the warnings of those around her or should she trust her own instincts about this man with a secret past?
Paperback ISBN 978-0-9955667-9-8
Ebook ISBN 978-0-9929943-1-0
The Echoes of Love
Hannah’s award-winning novel
Set in the romantic and mysterious city of Venice and the beautiful landscape of Tuscany, The Echoes of Love is a poignant story of lost love and betrayal, unleashed passion and learning to love again, whatever the price.
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