The Day of Yellow Taxis, Gifts, and Family: A Fond Heartfelt Farewell to Cairo

Isis and I met in the lobby of the hotel, covering our ears against the noise. She looked at me with a gleam of desire in her eyes. Then I realized she was looking at the plate of chicken wings behind me. In spite of the noise I drew Isis to the corner of the room and told her in a shout, "I have a surprise for you! Wait here!" I made my way over to the front door and peeked outside. "Excellent," I thought. Everything was in place. Rushing back to where I left her, I grabbed Isis's hand and pulled her outside. It was a relief to escape the raucous din of the lobby, and Isis visibly relaxed. Then she saw the gleaming yellow taxi that was parked at the bottom of the steps, and I saw the same excitement that I had seen race through her the day before take hold of her once more.

"Whomever is riding in that taxi is one lucky person, if you ask me." Dreamily, Isis nodded. "Yep, I'd think that they may just be the coolest person ever, whomever was riding in the front seat of that car." Isis didn't respond. "So, where are we going to have our lunch?" I asked, snapping Isis out of her reverie. "Oh, I was thinking that maybe we could visit my parents. They'd be so glad to meet you, and my mom makes the best food." Nodding, I took her hand and pulled her briskly over to where the taxi was parked. Holding the front passenger door open for her I motioned with my hand: "After you." Isis looked at me quizzically and then, as understanding dawned on her, with eyes wide. "You didn't!" "I did," I said, grinning. From within the cab came a voice and the driver yelled out, "You coming?" Isis was bewildered. "But this is....this is...expensive...and you...and you...." She fell silent, shaking her head. Undaunted, I pulled her arm, and she came with me. "Come on," I said, "you're riding in the front." "Me?" "Yes, you." As Isis climbed shakily into the passenger seat, the driver called me over to his window.

"Sir, I see from your clothes that you are a tourist, but it is tradition for the lady to sit in the back seat." "Excuse me?" I asked. He tried again. "Sir, I know that you are-" "She rides in the front." I said solidly. Hearing this, Isis leaned over and said, "It's OK, I'll sit in the back." She gave me a look that said don't argue and got in the back. I gave the driver a withering look and piled into the back next to Isis, whispering to her: "Who does he think he is, trying to tell us where to sit in a taxi that we are paying for?" Isis hushed me, telling me to enjoy the ride and that it was tradition. "Besides, she said, snuggling closer to me in her seat, "I'd much rather sit back here with you." Oblivious to my smile she answered the driver's query of where we were going. "Would you like the air-conditioning on, miss? He asked, and Isis glanced up at me, bursting with excitement. "Do you want it on? She asked out of politeness, as if the unbearable heat was suddenly only unbearable if I said it was. "I believe he asked you, miss." I said with an understanding smile. She turned to the driver. "Oh, yes sir!" "And the radio?" He asked. Isis looked back to me, literally squealing now in her pleasure. Clasping my hands in hers she said in a thrilled whisper,"He...he asked me if I want the radio on. He...he actually asked me!" "Miss?" came the voice from the front seat. "Well, you better answer him then!" I said, teasing her. Flashing me another brilliant smile, she turned back to face the front. "No thank you sir, but thank you for asking!" For about the millionth time she turned back to me, stuttering: "Y-y-you did th-th-this for me?" I nodded and Isis threw her arms around my neck. Surprised but pleased, I hugged her petit frame to me and withdrew somewhat reluctantly after what seemed like minutes in her tight embrace. "Well, I know this is hardly acceptable...but after ...after this....what you've done for me, I feel I must give you something.." Isis pulled down the shade between front and back seat, and placing her arms around me once more, she kissed me, her lips melting into mine. After what was probably five seconds and what seemed like an hour, she released me from her hold with a smile and a wink. "Think of that as a.....good bye gift."

We were silent the rest of the way, except for Isis's intermittent squeals of joy, and the driver's idle chit chat. Isis raised her head in pride and waved with the driver at the passerby. I have to admit, it felt great to be treated with respect-reverence, almost-by so many people. The crowd parted for us like warm butter before a knife. We pulled up before a ramshacle lean-to assortment of a animal skins and a roof. I paid the driver, who then was off on his own way as Isis was running into the outstretched arms of a man maybe three times her age. "Papa!" she shouted. Then a middle aged woman with the same slanted eyebrows and kind face as Isis, if somewhat older, emerged from within the shack and Isis fell upon her as well crying out, "Mama!"

As father, mother, and daughter got reacquainted, I stood off maybe five yards, my head bowed in respect for their reuinion. Then Isis motioned to me, and steered me by the elbow over to her parents. "Mama, Papa? This is Colin Whitney, he is an american boy whom I met in that restaurant where I work. You remember, the Windows on the World? I was his server and it went from me giving him belly dancing lessons to my services as a guide. He payed for the yellow taxi that we came in. We've become really good friends..." Isis's mother wagged her finger playfully at me and I laughed. "You are spoiling my daughter, Colin! Soon she will believe that she actually is the goddess she was named after." "Mama!" Isis smiled at me and and introduced her mother and father to me. I stuck out my hand to shake but her parents pulled me into a rib cracking hug, all at once. "Mama, I was thinking that we could have him over for lunch...?" "Of course, of course!" she boomed and ushered us inside. Isis saw me rubbing my stomach and cracked a grin. "You're dad...has very strong arms..." I said. She merely laughed and pulled me into the house.

After a deliecious lunch prepared by the loud Mrs. Mumramoon, I pulled Isis's parents aside and told them about my plan. Grinning broadly, Mr. Mumramoon called the confused Isis over. "Isis," he said, this fine young man was just telling us about his school project. He has offered to take you with him to the last country which he will visit: India. I think it will be a wondeful opportunity for you to see some of the world outside of Egypt. Colin has generously offered to pay for your airshare to and back from India. It seems like you two have become the best of friends. You have your parents' consent." Isis turned to me, astonished. "Is this true?" She asked. "If you'll have me." I said. "Of course I'll have you...a fine young man such as yourself? Come'ere!" She said and flung her arms around me.

We stayed at her parents house until late. Isis and I had to get back to our hotel rooms to pack. We had an early plain flight to catch. Holding hands, we walked back to our hotel in a amiable silence, and parted ways each to our own hotel room with a fleeting kiss. Goodbye Cairo.