Lately I’ve Put my Faith in Camels
Mena House Hotel
Pyramids, Cairo
Telegrams,
“Mena, Cairo”.
Dear Angel:
We have now experienced all that goes with desert life, and I like it less every minute, or rather dislike it more. Suppose father told you about the hot wind from the desert we had for two days before leaving Assouan, where everyone simply shut themselves up tight in the hotel. I finally got restless and decided I must set forth for a little walk, but couldn’t stand it for long. I felt just as though I were walking through an oven, and there was hardly a soul on the streets. Even the animals were all in the river trying to keep cool.
Coming down in the boat we had a dreadful sand storm, and it has been raging ever since we reached here. They usually last three, six, or nine days and we are all hoping this one will wear itself out tonight. It’s quieter out now, and my room boy told me the worst was over. All the windows and doors are shut tight, but even then the sand shifts in and the air is filled with dust.
We are staying out here now, literally under the shadows of the Pyramids and every evening walk over to sit by the Sphinx and watch the glorious shades of the sand and distant mountains at sun set. This is a lovely hotel. Lots of English people come here for the winter, and play golf and tennis and gaze at the Pyramids. Tomorrow we are going on an all day trip by camel across the desert to Sakarrah, where there are some wonderful old tombs.
You say you hope I have got everything I want. I suppose you’ll be surprised and ashamed of me for growing so indifferent, but I haven’t bought a thing since India, and then got only some inexpensive jewelry for fancy dress balls. The very sight of a shop, especially filled with all the trash these are, fairly makes me ill, and I never even look inside anymore. Sometimes when one of these insolent natives stands out in front and urges me to “have a look”, I feel as though I could kill him and never feel a shiver – oh! They are so tiresome, and I’m so “fed-up” with it all.
I really have nothing in my trunks except a lot of old clothes, and suppose when I get home I’ll regret missing all my opportunities, but then I think of the junk up in the third floor that came from “furrin” parts and I’m thankful I shan’t add to the collection. I feel too that when I have a house of my own, I shall want everything so strictly American that it will look like one of those Gimble ads. for a 59 piece set of china or golden oak parlor set. However when I reach Europe I hope I’ll be more enthusiastic, but even then don’t know of anything I want. If there is anything that you or Shang saw last summer and have since wished for, do tell me and I should love to get it. Giving vent to my feelings so forcefully as I just have wasn’t very tactful coming before my offer to get you the things, but you know what I mean. The things you would want in Europe are far different from these so-called curiosities that claim everyone’s attention here.
I did manage to get some clothes though. You see, I’ve been wearing nothing but white for so long and had nothing else, so got a suit, plain; a dark blue satin afternoon dress that I like immensely, and a simple little beaded pink chiffon evening dress trimmed with blue. The styles are so awe-inspiring and ridiculous, I should be ashamed of myself if I attempted keeping up with them, so I’m quite content with very simple affairs.
There are two very quaint English maiden ladies stopping here whom we were with several times in India. They are most amusing, and don’t seem to mind my laughing at them. It was so nice to meet them here again.
Did I tell you that the Gillis’s have gone to Con. (I’ll be using Constantinople such a lot from now on that I must abbreviate it) and we shall meet them there the last of this month. It seems so queer without them, for we were like one family. I miss them dreadfully.
Oh! Sallie, when I see such a lot of horrid men and again such a lot of husbands in whom I can’t see one grain of attractiveness, I feel sorry that their wives can’t have a man like Lover to love. This, I know, sounds silly and “what they all say”. Also since I feel that he must seem loveable to almost everyone, but I really do feel that way more strongly every day. Then I try, as a disinterested outsider, to compare him with other men, and he always outranks them to such an absurd degree that it isn’t worth thinking about. Oh! I do hope you’ll approve of him and not only be willing, for me to marry him, but be really eager for me to.
Mr. Petrie bought a parrot today. Imagine lugging it around and all the way to England. It’s guaranteed to speak Arabic, French and English, but hasn’t uttered a sound since they got it.
I almost forgot to tell you how expert I am on a camel – can ride alone without a boy, only one rein with which I can now skillfully steer him around the narrow streets and on the desert keep him on a gallop or trot. Father too is fine on his, but I never thought I should be so brave. They growl and gurgle in a most terrifying way, but never stumble and fall the way every donkey I’ve been [on] has done. So lately I’ve put my faith in camels.
We sail on the 8th for Jaffa and go by train from there to Jerusalem.
Oceans of love,
Alice
March 6, 1914
