A Hawk's Sight

Pharai

"Professor Alya," when his strawberry colored lips stretched into a smile it snapped in my brain where I knew the man from.

He had the most distinctive eye color that one could not forget. The first time I travelled to Egypt I knew I would remember the man by his smile alone, he had the gentlest color of red lips with the most perfect teeth I had ever seen. It complicated his long jaw and high cheek bones.

We were practically the same height with him having a stronger body than mine.

His aura was bright and gentle, there was not a minute that could go by without him smiling which was a rarity to come across. He was just naturally happy and his energy rubbed off on you without you even realizing.

He was the head of the history and archaeology department at the university, and my new boss. A few months ago I had an interview with him and the Dean of the University, for the new job opportunity. He was the one to first contact me and from the second I heard the news I booked a plane ticket to Egypt for the very next day.

From what I remembered he was half British and half Egyptian decent which explained his amalgamation of a name.

"Professor Lobdell Zeytoun," I smiled as I walked over to the man to shake his hand. "I didn't know you were my neighbour."

"I figured it would make you feel comfortable knowing you had someone you knew in the same area," he chuckled, "I'm sorry I didn't come yesterday to welcome you, I figured you would be tired from your travels."

"I surely was," I sighed, "I've been battling a bad case of insomnia so I fear I'm tired all the time."

"That's unfortunate but I have a good tea blend I normally make for that. Where were you off to?"

"I was heading to the market to get some food and essentials."

"I was going there myself, maybe we can go together and I can show you the good spots?" he winked which made me smile.

"That will be extremely helpful," I nodded.

I waited for him to lock up his apartment before we climbed into the elevator together then went down to the parking.

"Is it alright if we take my truck? I figure it will be convenient," he pointed to his grey Toyota Hilux.

"Of course."

He unlocked it and we both climbed in. He played a local radio station as he drove us to one of the local markets where they sold fresh produce.

"You're in good luck," he grinned after he had parked then reached back to the seats to grab a woven object, "I brought my basket."

That made me smile, "It's very beautiful."

"I know, we made it in class for a practical lecture once and I just grew attached to it," he handed me the basket.

It was formed in an oval with a semi deep bowl with two handles, which was made from papyrus just like the ancients. I ran my fingers over the woven sections on the rim and smiled. There was something more beautiful about handmade objects.

I was always drawn to them and hoped by me being in Egypt I would slowly switch over to more homemade things.

"Fair warning, it is advised you speak Arabic. With your accent they might confuse you for an American tourist and charge you more."

"I'll remember that," I nodded.

We climbed out of the truck before we walked the aisles of the market. Most people had just finished setting up which pleased me greatly since I could get everything fresh. Lobdell helped me greatly by showing me the cheaper stalls with the greatest quality products. The locals new him extremely well and he introduced me to each and every one of them.

We took almost two hours before we were done. I ended up getting enough produce to last me for a week. From there we went to a small supermarket for me to get anything I had forgotten. Whilst I pushed my cart around Lobdell quickly stopped by one of the stores he had to run a quick errand at.

By the time I was done and walked to the truck with my two bags, he was already leaning against its large metallic frame.

"How about we get some breakfast?"

My stomach growled at the sound of that and I let out an embarrassed chuckle, "I guess my stomach answered for me."

He gave me a cheeky smile before he opened the back door for me to put my bags. "There's a local little street stall. They sell very good food there."

I nodded and he led me down the street past the market that had the most beautiful aromas. The spices were so incredibly intoxicating that if you were a food addict you would find it hard to leave. That was mostly my problem and I was sure I bought enough spices to last me a year.

Being here reminded me of my trips with my grandparents as a young boy. I would tag along with my grandmother and mother as they could spent hours picking the finest of ingredients to cook for supper.

My palette for food had been refined from as soon as I could eat proper solids. From the moment I was in university and had learned what the ancients would eat, I would spend hours in the kitchen trying to recreate the dishes.

Some were successful whilst some did not feel the same. I figured being stuck in a booming metropolitan city it was harder to get the freshest ingredients that were sourced from Egypt itself.

Now that I was here I was going to take full advantage of every second and fully immerse myself in the culture as much as possible.

The temperate started to pick up by the time we got to the eatery. We sat down by the cushioned section on the second floor that had the much needed air conditioning. After we ordered drinks I felt the most bone chilling shiver which caused me to whip my head to the window in confusion.

It almost felt like I had eyes on me which was impossible by the spot we were seated. You would have to have a hawk's eye to fully see me.