A Day in the Sticks

Last week, a friend of mine mentioned that his church would be traveling to a leper colony on the outskirts of Cairo, and invited me to come. The church group was traveling to the leper colony on Saturday to volunteer, paint a few buildings, do a little gardening – wherever they could help.

I’ll admit, though I had agreed to go along, I was quite apprehensive during the days leading up to the trip. Is leprosy contagious? No, according to Wikipedia, leprosy is not contagious if the patients are being treated. Well, what if they aren’t being treated? And how reliable is Wikipedia, anyway? After a bit of research, I was left with conflicting answers that did little to assuage my concern of contracting leprosy.

My friend, Clay, called me at 2am on the morning of the trip, “Hey man, want to come down around 8:45 and we’ll head out?” Not one to bail on friends, I replied, “Definitely, see you then!” Consequences be damned, I was going to have my first encounter with leprosy in about seven hours.

I met up with Clay and a small group from his church, about thirty had signed up, but only about fifteen of us actually got on the bus. The bus ride took us through bustling downtown Cairo, past the suburbs, into the outlying farm areas, and eventually, into the desert. This colony, like most, had been secluded from society.

About an hour later we arrived at the gates of the colony, manned by a few bored Egyptian soldiers lounging in the shade of a tall palm tree. I had expected the worst, but upon entering the colony, was struck by how clean the area was – well-tended gardens, simple buildings painted in bright colors, shady palm trees.

We were met by Jihad, a caretaker at the Leprosarium. Jihad was born in Munich, Germany and, after meeting her husband in Egypt, devoted herself to helping those cast into the desert by society. She had worked tirelessly to secure funds, renovate the grounds, and organize healthcare. “This leper colony was built by the British in the 1940’s,” explained Jihad, “a few years ago the colony was in terrible disrepair, al hamdillah (thank God) we were able to bring the hospital to what it is today.” A vintage world war II British army truck lay in a nearby ditch, testament to the colony’s history.

The residents of the colony, lepers, we’re not the bandaged, deteriorating people I had thought they might be. Yes, they were afflicted with a debilitating disease, but they were first and foremost people, people who had been struck by a terrible illness that led to their exile from society.

Katherine, a 14 year old Coptic Christian, suffers from Leprosy that causes sores on her body and has swelled her left eye shut. Katherine was eager to practice her American-accented English, “My dream is to go to America…” While a friend and I were painting a table, Katherine and I talked at length about Egyptian musicians, Cairo, and even President Bush (she’s a rare fan.)

Sheikh Saeed, another resident, was eager to talk with everyone. The 87 year old Sheikh Saeed has spent the last forty years of his life in the colony. Sheikh Saeed grew up near Cairo and has earned a place of honor at the colony, the venerable elder. While his body had greatly deteriorated, Saeed’s intellect was as sharp as ever, he was happy to have visitors and enjoyed talking.

Ali, a middle-aged Egyptian from the north, was eager to hear soccer news, “Who won last night? Ahly or Tunis?” Ali’s a Zamalek fan (the Yankees of Egyptian soccer) and I’m an Ahly fan (the Red Sox of Egyptian soccer.) Ahly lost to Tunis 2-1, Ali couldn’t help but rub it in. I promised I would bring him a radio to listen to the games next time I come out, plus his favorite Um Kalthoum cassette tapes.

Upon entering the colony, I was prepared for the worst effects of leprosy, prepared to see those stricken with this terrible malady dating to biblical times. Instead, I had the opportunity to meet many people who were merely trying to live through difficult circumstances. Yes, these people suffered a great deal, but it did not stop them from making the best of their lives. I feel honored and humbled to have met such fine people and will be returning soon, I owe Ali a radio and a few cassettes.