Carlos reached into his pocket and quickly put on his crocheted cap. No need in being culturally incorrect to create a barrier.
"Shari el-Nil," Carlos said as pleasantly as possible to the older man once they were side by side.
The man smiled and began speaking a mile a minute in sentences Carlos could never begin to sort out. But the fact that the man was smiling helped a lot. Obviously it wasn't a bad word.
"Wait, wait," Carlos said, laughing. "I only know Shari el-Nil."
"Oh," the man said, shaking his head. "Foreigner. I see. You look for the neem trees to stroll the Blue Nile Corniche? This is what Shari el-Nil is-a place, like a park-or what you call a parkway, maybe."
Carlos smiled. "Yeah... uh... I guess so."
The man tilted his head, seeming amused. "A friend recommended this, yes?"
"Well, not exactly. I heard it and was trying to pick up the language."
The man laughed and stopped walking. "There are more than one hundred languages here. Not easy to pick up. But Arabic is official, but many know English, too, and French."
"Cool. Thanks."
The older gentleman's expression remained pleasant and curious, as though he wasn't ready to end the early morning discussion. "You are new here, so just say,salam aleikum to greet others, or if they say it to you, you answer,wa aleikum as-salam ."
Carlos slapped his forehead and laughed, making the man beside him also laugh harder. "Right! How could I forget something as basic as that-as many brothers from 'round the way say it all the time. Standard!"
"You are also Muslim?" the man asked, his eyes becoming more excited. "You know to tell them in the mosque,ma-atkallam arabi -that you do not speak Arabic, and they will still embrace you as Allah's. No problem."
"No, I... I'm not-"
"You go to the neem trees and think about what you already know and can remember," he said, beginning to walk away, still grinning. "You seem like a man of many languages."
Now he had Carlos's full attention.
"Yo," Carlos said, quickening his pace to catch up with the now spry old man. "Hold up, sir. Please. Why would you say that?"
"You pick up languages so well, like you wanted to go to Shari el-Nil and you listened to the sounds and said it like you were from here." The man cocked his head to the side as confusion wrinkled his brow. "At first glance, I truly couldn't tell you were not from here until I went beyond your vocabulary. Did anyone ever tell you that was a gift?"
"No," Carlos said, truly intrigued. "I'd never thought of it that way."
The older man began walking. "If you follow me, I have to go past there. You should sit, listen to the birds, and think. Maybe there are other things you can do with your life, young man."
Carlos only nodded as he walked quietly beside this newfound friend. Interesting. He was expecting some big power jolt to come surging up from the waters, and instead, this subtle but powerful message had been delivered by an old man wearing baggy pants. This was a new perspective. Nothing like what he'd expected. The Light clearly worked with subtlety, that was for sure.Smooth . They literally let wisdom sneak up on you, seduce you with such silk that if you were unaware, you'd miss it.
Parallels began forming new and open channels in his mind. His old side used cold-blooded power and sheer dark force to draw in prey; this new side was all pro. The Light simply let birds fly by, an old man saunter along, then knocked your head back with an epiphany that was too profound for words.
The quiet revelation almost made Carlos laugh out loud as his kindly guide prattled on about the pharaonic stone carvings and stunning Christian frescoes to be seen within the National Museum. During the easy few-mile walk, Carlos soaked in everything the old man had to say about the great exhibits to witness and the best places to getshai bi-laban , sweet tea with milk, orbi-nana , sweet mint tea, and the stewed white beans,fasooliyya , orfuul , stewed brown beans andtabouleh salad.
One thing Carlos knew for sure, to learn a new culture, one had to learn how the people ate. As above, apparently, so below. There were so many things he had to remember. He just wished his old grasp of languages and knowledge would snap back-that was one thing from his old council seat that would have been a serious benefit, all other issues notwithstanding. But he made his peace with the problem. It was what it was. The Light had shown him some pretty cool new abilities; this old man was making him see parallels that he'd been blind to before. Just like the chess player had reminded him of how to be strategic, but also to take risks. Now if he could just find Damali and get back to the team, many of his immediate worries would be solved.
"Before you go to Meroe, which is a good place for you to see history," Carlos's walking partner said, "be sure to go to the Omdurman Souq." He opened his arms wide and his smile also widened. "That is our largest market, and on Fridays, except during Ramadan," he pointed out with care, "the whirling dervishes dance." He bobbed and swayed and turned around. "It is a sight, if you have ever seen one. They look like great birds and stir the dust high!" The old man danced and pointed to the neem trees above. "Like birds, just like this," he added, spinning and chuckling, and then poof, he was gone.
"Oh, shit!" Carlos jumped backward and almost fell, sending a plume of sparrows airborne. He glanced around quickly and nothing else out of the ordinary was evident. But he remained very still as he double-checked the position of the birds, given that any and everything was fair game to be something other than it appeared to be.
One by one, the birds went back to their branches, flustered and fussing their complaint as they settled down. But one edged near him with its beak filled with stones. At this point, he studied everything so closely that he bordered on righteous paranoia.
"So, I suppose you've got a message for me, since you look like the same chick carrying stones across the bridge a ways back?" Carlos said to the small brown bird, laughing. Oh, yeah, he was over the top. He watched the curious little creature with an overstuffed beak c**k its head from side, to side, studying him. Now it was really time to check his sanity. He was talking to birds!
He watched it hop closer toward him, as though begging for food. He laughed and squatted down. "Greedy little thing," he said quietly, amused by its boldness. "You can't eat rocks, and I'm sorry to say that I ain't got nothing but love for ya."
The bird immediately dropped a dusty white pebble and a clear smooth one the size of a lima bean. It chirped a virulent complaint and spread its wings, like it wanted to fight. Carlos burst out laughing and stretched out his palm to see if he could coax it near. "Tough little thing, huh? A bad momma... okay, but I don't have-" Total fascination gripped him as it jumped into his open palm and then flitted away. "Wow... That was so cool."