B-Sort Relationship Advice Blog

On the drive to Alexandria where SS grew up, I noticed some large white cone structures with holes all over them. Amongst ourselves we discussed what they might be for. The holes might be for air-conditioning was one idea. We asked our guide who told us that they were for farming pigeons – considered a delicacy. My friend SS commented that pigeon was similar to quail.

In Alexandria, SS’s mother, along with her brother, invited us all out to dinner at an amazing restaurant that once was a palace that belonged to King Farouk’s wife. It was an opulent palace, in some ways a museum, with furniture, art and artifacts from the time of his reign. It had photos of King Farouk as a child on the walls. The menus were amazing with photos throughout of King Farouk in various uniforms. I would have like to have kept one of those. The elegance and grandness of the room in which we dined was impressive.

At the beginning of the dinner SS gave us each a gift – a gold cartouche with our name in Hieroglyphics on it. Her Egyptian friend, NR, who had joined our group, gave each of us a souvenir of Egypt. The generosity of our hosts was overwhelming. We were all quieter than usual. We were tired and I was sick with a bad cough and cold. I can’t speak for the others, but I know I was quiet because I felt somewhat overwhelmed by their generosity.

When it came time to order I saw that they had pigeon on the menu. SS had said it was like quail. I had had pheasant before and it was succulent and delicious. I grew up on a farm in southern Manitoba. As a child one of the things I liked to do was climb up the ladder to the roof of the barn and look at the pigeons nesting there. First to see the eggs. Then to see the newly hatch fledglings. Then to see the ugly awkward babies with their feathers growing in. We never ate them.

Even so, I ordered a ‘pair of pigeons’ from the menu. When my meal came and the waiter put it down before me I was shocked. My friend sitting beside me, who shall remain nameless, leaned over and whispered, “It looks like road kill.” My thought (which I kept to myself) “Exactly!” There were two flat leathery blackish brown or brownish black inkblots on the plate. They looked like they had just been scraped of the road on a hot summer day. I felt very awkward. I did not want to offend my generous and gracious hosts. So I started to eat it. I tried to cut it with a knife and fork. No way, it was too tough. Then I picked it up and tried to separate a limb from the body. With effort I was able to do it. Tender it was not! When I went to take a bite of it all I got was some greasy skin. There was little meat that I could detect. It was not like any quail or pheasant I had tasted. I still did not want to offend my hosts so I pushed the pigeons around my plate for a while. I did not go hungry. The portions were generous and my friends shared their meals with me. After the plates were cleared the waiter brought me a fingerbowl of lemon-scent water to wash my fingers. I was relieved because it meant to me that I was expected to use my hands to eat it. The meal ended with some delicious fresh fruit for dessert.

After some more photos in this luxurious palace we said our good-byes to our wonderful hosts and sauntered back to our hotel.

Well, at least I tried it.

Enjoy,

Dr. Bea Mackay

B-Sort.com

P.S. How often in relationships do we try to avoid offending or hurting others?

This little question, “What am I feeling?” opens up a discussion far too vast for this tiny little post to properly address, but despite this obvious limitation, this post is still valuable because it can act as a beginning. It can act as a beginning, and it can act as a reminder, a reminder that knowing what you’re feeling is an important, even an essential part of a successful loving relationship.

And if, at this particular time of reading, you are experiencing a few bumps in your relationship, asking yourself this question, and then attempting to answer it, can move you closer to resolving those troubles and returning your relationship to a state of smooth sailing.

To begin this beginning properly, I have to point out that to answer this question, to discover what you are feeling, you do indeed have to feel your feelings. To many, this is obvious, but there are few people out there who think they can answer this question without actually feeling their feelings. These people think they can just look at their relationship and then decide how they should be feeling. Then they declare without an ounce of anger that, “I am feeling angry.” But even if their evaluation is bang on, there is no way of getting around it, to truly know what you’re feeling you have to feel your feelings. But like many other things in life, this is easier said then done.

You see, those people who opt to evaluate how they should be feeling, rather than actually feeling their feelings often do so not out of some kind of malevolence, but because they have become separated from their emotions, and they are not alone.

We each have our own unique ways of separating ourselves from our emotions. And we each selectively choose which emotions, among the full range of emotion, to stay connected to and which to separate from. We have already chosen, even if that choice is by default, which emotions to keep at a distance, and we each have our own unique ways of maintaining that distance. But then the question is put, “What are you feeling?” It is no wonder that we can suddenly find ourselves at a bit of a loss in answering, even when we know how essential it is.

This is where outside help can be invaluable. Whether that is going to a counsellor individually or with your partner, or by using the B-Sort, getting an outside perspective can help you reconnect with what you are feeling. And for those of you who have no problem feeling your feelings, an outside perspective can help you to clarify your feelings, and it can help you give them priority.

Reconnecting, clarifying, prioritizing your feelings - an outside perspective can absolutely help you with this, but it is valuable to be able to do this yourself. It is valuable to be able to respond to the question, “What am I feeling?” all by yourself.

To be continued…

We were walking back to the old Christian monastery on for a tour inside. It was about 1 Km from the station where our minivan had dropped us off. We’d just hiked down Mount Sinai to the station and had eaten our boxed breakfasts provided by our hotel. We were going back for the tour. As I walked along in the heat of the day I was in a tired fog. Suddenly I was aware that something was going on and I became alert. I noticed a Bedouin man casually slouched on a low kind of stone fence talking to a 4-5 year old child. I assumed it was his son. The boy was running alongside a tourist. He had no goods to sell. He would look at his father. His father would say something to him in Arabic. The son would say something to the tourist and look back at the father who would say something to him. Then he would say something more to the tourist. Then I notice on the other side of the road there was a woman completely covered in her hijab except for her hands and eyes, talking to a different 4-5 year old child. I think it was a girl but it might have been a boy. The same thing was happening. The child was running alongside a tourist. The mother was saying something to her in Arabic. The girl would then say something to the tourist then look back at her mother who would say something to her. I did not have a sense that the father and his son were related to the mother and her child.

I realized that the parents were using this stretch of road to teach their children to beg. I know it is naïve of me but I did not think that begging was something that was taught. I had not really thought about it before; to me it was just something that was done. But the way these parents were teaching their children reminded me of the way I taught my sons how to develop skills in life – such as how to behave with guests, how to conduct themselves in public, etc.

My initial reaction was to feel sad for the children that they had to beg and sad for the parents that they needed to teach their children to beg. My next reaction was to feel relieved that my life circumstances meant I did not have to teach my children to beg. Finally, I thought of the poverty in Egypt and then I began to think that the parents were teaching their children survival skills. Because there are so few jobs and what jobs there are do not pay much, they would need these skills to survive themselves and to help their families survive. These children that I saw looked like normal healthy children. They had not been maimed by their parents to elicit charity as sometimes happens.

I still found it sad.

Dr. Bea Mackay

B-Sort.com

I had not thought much about this activity on our itinerary - hiking Mount Sinai. I had no expectations either positive or negative about it. The only thing that I’d thought about was that it was an all night event and I was concerned about getting over-tired from the loss of a night’s sleep. I was already feeling the effects of losing a night’s sleep traveling from Cairo to Abu Simbel and Aswan. When we got to the Old Cataract Hotel I should have napped in the afternoon instead of going out in the felucca (boat) with everyone. But it was a beautiful day, a neat thing to do and I did not want to miss anything. I got chilled on the boat and that’s how I came down with the bad cold – fatigue and chill. I was concerned that losing another night’s sleep would make me sicker.

Our driver and guide picked us up around 10 pm. We had about two and a half to three hours drive ahead and we all hoped to catch some shut-eye on the drive. We had to go thru many checkpoints at which we all had to show our passports. So much for getting much more than 40 winks on the drive. We arrived around 1:00 am at a small station, which had the usual facilities and met the young Bedouin man who was to be our guide for the hike. It was cold. It was dark. There were millions of stars. As usual, there were lots of hawkers pressing their wares on us – gloves, scarves etc – telling us how cold it was going to be at the top. Lots of other mini buses arrived with many more tourists.

We were given our flashlights and we started up the mountain. As we passed the Christian monastery (the first one ever built) we saw activity – movement, campfires. As we got closer we saw a large herd of camels and their Bedouin owners/drivers. They were looking to get hired to take tourists up the mountain. We trudged by them, away from the light and into the darkness. Only surprisingly, it wasn’t that dark. It was a beautiful moonlit night. With my flashlight on, my eyes could not adjust to the darkness, so I turned it off. It did not take long for my eyes to adjust. I could see so much. I could see the path so I had no trouble with my footing. I could see the whole valley, as well as, up and down the mountain. It was wonderful! Others in my group though wanted and needed the flashlights on. This bugged me because it meant I couldn’t see anything but the immediate path. I wanted to see the whole mountain and valley. I wanted to experience the ambiance of hiking in the moonlight – I’d never done it before. Usually I don’t say anything, but this was important to me. Because I thought we had to stay together I told them to ‘turn off their frigging flashlights’. That did not go over well. I was told to go on ahead. To me, that was a fabulous idea, so I took off. I don’t know what happened to me. I usually ‘collapse’ around 10:00 – 11:00 pm. Instead of being tired, I had energy to burn. I was excited. I did not feel sick at all and forgot all about being sick or getting sicker. I loved hiking up the mountain in the moonlight! I did not even think about my safety. I just soaked up all the sensations of occasion. SJ came along with me. Several times we came across what seemed to be large rocks in the distance but as we got closer they turned out to be a lying down camel with his squatting driver beside him. “Camel, camel”. No takers from me. We went at a good pace. I’m what I call a ‘high-class’ hiker. I have a group of women I hike with and most summers we drive to and/or helicopter into a mountain lodge (ski lodge in winter) and hike 2000-4000 vertical feet a day, ending up in our extremely comfortable accommodations at night. So I had no trouble with the vertical we were doing. At one of the several rests stations on the way up SJ said she was feeling sick. I knew it was from the exertion of the climb. She hired a camel to ride the rest of the way up. I did not want her to be on her own so I kept pace with the camel and driver. It wasn’t easy. Camels take big steps and I did not have the proper footwear. Usually I’m wearing my hiking boots but I did not want to pack them all around Egypt for one occasion. I had brought old tennis runners that were worn smooth. I was finding it very slippery. At some point, the camel driver just took my hand. My immediate reaction was to pull away, but I didn’t. Holding his hand I found it so much easier to keep pace with the camel. Now that I didn’t have to worry about slipping I could relax and enjoy the scenery even more and chat with the driver. He did not speak much English but I learned that it was his brother’s camel and that it was 6 years old.

It was wonderfully strange to be hiking up a mountain in the moonlight holding hands with a Bedouin man in traditional dress, trekking behind a camel. Once we got as high as the camels could go, SJ got off the camel. She was feeling much better. She had enjoyed the ride. We each tipped the driver and told him to go and find other tourists to help. Then we waited for the rest of our group to arrive.

When we reached this station there still was lots of time before the sunrise. It was warm and comfortable here and I knew it was going to be cold on top. I thought we should wait here until closer to sunrise. Our guide told us that there were so many tourists that if we did not get to the top early we would have trouble finding a spot to watch the sunrise.

The next part of the journey was the 750 irregular rocky steps up to the top of the mountain. I certainly did not count them. Now the group was together again, flashlights and all. It was crowded with tourists and we were going so slowly. SS was ahead with our guide holding his hand. I continued to have so much energy and no patience, so I told the guide I wanted to go ahead. I passed SS and the guide and headed to the top. GH, one of the fellows in the group, was keeping up with me. When we got to the top we did not know where the best spot was so we found a spot to wait for our group. Our guide came looking for us and took us to the group. We hunkered together in the cold to wait for the sunrise. Gradually it started to happen. There was something wonderful about being huddled together watching the night turn into day. Once the sun came over the horizon it did not take long to be fully day. Sun’s up! Time to go down again.

I don’t know what happened to me on the hike up Mount Sinai, but it was wonderful!

Enjoy,

Dr. Bea Mackay

B-Sort.com