The Missing Madonna, Chapter 21/2 "A Day Sightseeing"

When we awoke this morning I knew we were going to be able to spend the day together as it was one of the many Roman festivals and everyone had a holiday. The Egyptians and Jews have festivals too but we have to celebrate these in our own time, because the Roman supervisor in charge of the building of the villas does not recognise them and won’t let Joseph or Philip have the time off. I had assumed that we’d have a quiet day at home, but Philip came round and proposed that we all went together into the city centre and see the many wonderful sights there. We’d been nearly a whole year here and neither Dora nor I had seen anything except the huge shining synagogue on the far side of Canopic Street and, of course, the Pharos – you can hardly miss seeing that looming over us all, the glare from its topmost mirrors causing us to squint if we look directly at it. When I told Joshua he became very excited, and Martha popped in a few minutes later and the two children were so bubbly that I had to try to calm them down. Dora followed with Simeon and with Sarah tucked in a cloth slung round her waist and I held James while Joshua and Martha were very happy to walk hand in hand as usual.

Joseph and Philip know the city of course and lead us into the wide Canopic Street and there we turn west, opposite the road which leads to our chief synagogue. We reach the Gate of the Sun, which neither I nor Dora have ever passed through, and I’m astonished for the street widens into a magnificent thoroughfare with colonnaded buildings of white stone on either side. I’ve never seen anything like this before, not even in Jerusalem. There are many people in the street but it is so vast that it swallows us up. It’s quiet at the moment, though Joseph says it will be noisier later when the festival gets going. It’s called Floriania apparently and is to welcome new life and all the flowers blooming in the new season. That seems a nice idea, perhaps we shall see some of the decorations and celebrations later. Joshua and Martha seem oblivious to the magnificence around us and start chasing each other and hiding behind some of the marble columns. I worry that they might get it someone’s way and cause anger, but people seem relaxed and unbothered.

Philip suggests that we go to the maritime wall where we can see the whole of the Pharos and I can get my first glimpse of the sea itself in the Great Harbour as it’s known. We come to a big crossroads. Another street of equal size and magnificence called the Street of the Soma is here and opposite us is another huge stone edifice, polished and glinting in the sun. Joseph says it’s the monument to the Emperor Alexander who founded this city hundreds of years ago and this is his burial place in what he called a ‘Mauseleum’. The children are not the slightest bit interested, and Philip tells us to turn right into this new street which will lead us straight to the waterfront. The Pharos is straight ahead of us and I stare at it in amazement. We can see it all because there’s no other building obscuring the view now. Even Joshua stops and gawps at it. “It reaches right up to the sky,” he exclaims. It does indeed. I tell him not to look at the light itself for it will dazzle his eyes and already he’s rubbing them, for your eyes are drawn to the brilliance.

We soon reach the harbour wall and there before us is the sea. I’ve never seen so much water before, it’s quite frightening. There is a strange smell, I can’t quite place it. It’s salty, fresh, not nasty like some of the smells we get round the canal and the water-ditches near our house. It’s quite windy too, which makes the heat much more bearable. Philip is pointing out more magnificent buildings on the waterfront to our right and saying that it’s the royal palace where the pharaohs used to stay and where the Roman Governor now lives. There are many ships to our left loading and unloading their cargoes and Joshua wants us to go that way and watch all the activity. We can see the causeway with lots of movements - people and animals – linking us with the island on which the lighthouse stands. I just want to stare at the Pharos, my mind cannot take in such a sight. I count the windows up the sides of the building, it’s like twenty houses built on top of each other and there are sculptures of magnificent beasts, which you couldn’t see from our home.

Eventually we tear ourselves away from the sight before us and move towards the ships unloading in the docks, but I keep turning around and looking at the lighthouse. We pass another imposing building on our left and Philip tells us that it’s a famous library with more books in it than any other place in the world. I don’t know how he knows this – I suppose the Romans who work with him tell him those sorts of things. I wonder what all those books can be saying. Are there some which would tell me more about God? That would be good, but I doubt if they’d be in a language I could understand. Perhaps Joshua will one day learn to read and become a scholar. I wonder if he has to learn much to be our Messiah?

It’s becoming hot despite the breeze and I’m getting tired carrying James all this way. He’s too heavy to carry like Sarah and not quite walking yet – perhaps another couple of months.

“Let’s walk onto the causeway,” says Joseph. We can sit down there and watch the ships coming and going and eat our food.”

We walk about a league onto the Heptastadium and find a patch of rough grass where others are seated looking at the view. Joshua is too interested to want to sit down and eat, he’s putting questions to his father all the time. I’m glad Joseph is listening to him, because I don’t know half the things he’s asking. I keep turning round and staring at the Pharos. I still can’t believe it. I would think something as high as that must soon fall down, but Philip says it’s stood there for over a century. There are more and more people coming onto the causeway now, many have brought food and some have garlands of flowers draped around their necks reminding me of the festival today. Some are drinking wine. One man seems already to have drunk too much and is shouting at everyone. Joshua looks at him and I can see he is puzzled. I’m quite pleased when Joseph suggests we move on.

“Would you like to see where I work?” Joseph is asking Joshua and he nods vigorously. Dora and I would like to see too, so we pick up our things and retrace our steps, the wind now on our backs. When we get back to the main crossroads we turn right towards another big gate we can see in the distance, the Gate of the Moon according to Joseph. I’ve heard him say that he works near there, although we turn off to the south just before we reach another canal into the area called Rhakotis where Greek speaking Egyptians and Romans live. Many of the villas look new and there is space round each one, not like the houses in our street. A bit further on there is open ground and I can see half-built villas and newly dug foundations. We stop opposite one that looks nearly finished and Joseph tells us that they have still to construct the doors and some of the outhouses behind the villa – I can see some huts behind villas that have been completed and the wooden structures look as big as our house.

“What do they use those for?” I ask my husband and he tells me that these are where the servants and slaves live. Apparently all the Romans here have many servants because they are army officers or rich merchants or government officials. Joshua and Martha are playing hide and seek in and out of the incomplete villa and Joseph chases after them to make sure they don’t trip over the timber lying ready for their next day’s work.

“When you’ve finished that villa, will you be out of work?” I ask nervously. Joseph points to the incomplete house next to it and a row of ditches that he tells me are just the foundations of more still to be built. I breathe more easily. That means we are guaranteed income for at least another few months. We carry on walking past the new construction site and come to some smaller houses.

“Who lives in these houses? Do Romans live here too?”

“No,” says Philip. “Some of the richer Egyptians live in this area. These houses have been here for some time. There were poorer houses where the new villas are being built but the inhabitants were moved out to clear the site for the Roman immigrants.”

“What happened to the previous people who lived here?” I ask. “Were they allocated new homes?”

“I don’t know,” says Joseph. “The site was already razed when we started work here. But the Egyptians who still live here don’t like the Romans. And the Romans don’t like living next to the Egyptians. I’ve heard some of them complaining, but the land in the best environment in the Brucheum nearer the sea and the royal palaces is all used up and there seem to be more Roman officials and merchants arriving here every month.”

We carry on and can hear the sounds of a crowd, which seems to be getting nearer. Ahead of us is a hill and I can see what looks like a big temple on it with masses of people packed together on the slopes in front.

“What’s happening?”

“It’s the annual Floriania festival. Offerings are made to a god they call Serapis of wine and flowers. The temple there is the Serapium, it’s one of the most important in Alexandria. It’s the time of resurrection and new life after the winter, the Egyptians worship another god called Osiris – I get a bit muddled, they might be just be different Egyptian and Roman names for the same god. A procession is garlanded with spring flowers at the temple and they go down to the Stadium and there are games, races and trials of strength, and much dancing.” Philip is trying to tell us everything he knows, but I’m getting confused.

“How many gods do the Egyptians worship? And do the Romans worship the same one? Do they include our God, Jehovah as well?”

“There’s lots here – there’s the temple of Artemis whom the Romans call Diana and there’s a temple near the sea for Poseidon or Neptune who’s the god of the sea… oh, and lots more, I can’t remember them all.”

As we get nearer I see that the crowd is singing and swaying and all are looking at the temple waiting for something to happen. Philip asks one of the men who is just watching rather than singing and he comes back to tell us that in a few minutes the temple doors will open and the priests will lead men, women and girls who are the dancers along the street and into the Stadium where they will perform. Dora and Philip seem quite keen to go into the Stadium to see the fun, but I can tell that Joseph is dubious. I’m not sure that we Jews should take part in pagan rituals like this. Philip cajoles Joseph, saying it’s not serious, the Egyptians just like any excuse for celebrations especially since the Romans came. Their daily life is much harder now and this is one of the few festivals when the Romans join in and permit everyone to relax.

We go past the Serapium therefore and stand among the crowd lining the street near the entrance to the huge Stadium. I can see inside and the tiers of seats are well occupied, especially the lower levels. A lot of the men are drinking, in fact there seem to be few women about and I begin to feel a little out of place among the many Arab men. There are only a few children and no-one that I recognise as Jews at all. Joshua, Simeon and Martha manage to squeeze their way into the front of the throng and I’m watching them carefully to see they don’t get lost.

Suddenly I hear a great shout and the word goes round that the procession is coming. People in the crowd begin to laugh and scream, and I see many are drunk. I’d back out if I could, but I can’t get to the children, so I’ll have to wait until the procession has passed. They’re coming. I can’t see everything for the men in front of me are tall and Joseph and Philip are straining to see as well. Then I see them. The priests in their white robes are leading but I’m shocked by what I see then. The girls and women are nearly naked, they are dressed with flowers and just a transparent thin sliver of material which scarcely covers their bodies. The girls are cavorting shamelessly and the crowd is egging them on and the men dressed only in cloaks, which are flapping open with no modesty at all, are caressing and dancing with the garlanded women and stripping off their remaining veils even as they pass us.

I try to cover my eyes but I’m frightened of losing sight of the children – heaven knows what they are making of this. Then I see that men at the front have lifted Martha and Joshua high so that they can see better and one of the young girls trips forward, swirls and throws out her arms to touch Joshua and plants a kiss on his cheek. The man holding Joshua rips the girl’s remaining veil from her shoulders and she screams with mirth and runs stark naked back into the dancers where many others have been uncovered as they run into the arena. Meanwhile the man has thrust the flimsy piece of cloth into Joshua’s hands and above the din I hear him shout, “Here’s a memento for you, young man. Your first virgin! May you enjoy many more!”

Philip and Joseph are now trying to hustle us away, but we are still impeded from reaching the children. The crowd is surging after the dancers who now have thrown off all decorum and nearly all are twirling naked waving the floral garlands over their heads. The crowd has gone wild and I’m really scared. Joshua and the other children could easily get crushed in the stampede. Philip fights his way to the front and takes Joshua from the man holding him and grabs at Simeon but Martha is somewhere under the trampling feet and Joseph hurls himself at her when he glimpses a sight of her, now crying out in panic. Thank heavens someone in the crowd sees her in time and lifts her over the charging herd into Joseph’s outstretched arms.

“Joseph, please let’s get out of here.”

“Yes, Mari,” he shouts, “I’m trying my best. I didn’t realise it would be like this.”

Eventually we are able to extricate ourselves from the stream of men and youths pouring into the Stadium and reunite on the far side of the road. I find I’m shaking all over and Martha is crying. Dora is trying to comfort her and I try to get to Joshua who is still clutching his trophy. However, James has now begun to cry too so Joseph goes to Joshua and tries to wrest the veil gently from the boy, but he clings onto it and cries when Joseph begins to tug at it to tear it away from him.

“It doesn’t matter, Joseph. He doesn’t understand what it is. He just thinks it’s a toy. Don’t make an issue of it.”

We make our way home as fast as we can. It seems a long way and we are tired and upset. Neither man says anything and Dora begins to say something, then decides against it. When we eventually get home we feed the children and get them to bed. Philip comes to our house later that evening and apologises to me.

“Mari, I’m sorry for taking you to the temple – I should have known better. I heard the Romans and Egyptians on the building site talking about the festival as a sight to be seen, but I didn’t realise that they were looking forward to a drunken orgy. Apparently it’s not only celebrating the harvest of the wine but it’s a fertility rite as well. The Romans and the inhabitants here don’t see nakedness as something shameful. No wonder we didn’t see many Jews the other side of the Sun Gate today.

I heard Philip and Joseph talking about it with some of our neighbours the next day but they didn’t seem shocked at all. That’s what the locals do seemed to be their attitude and the Romans encourage them. Apparently the Greeks and Romans wrestle and race naked and no-one thinks it unseemly. Our neighbours don’t seem bothered. They don’t partake themselves but don’t seem to think it wrong. Their advice was just to keep out of the way especially when the wine and beer was flowing as the mob can be unruly when drunk.

I thought about it all as I tried to sleep that night and imagined the horror of Uncle Eli and the rabbis back in Nazareth. Was it really so shocking? The drunkenness and violence unleashed by the alcohol was clearly wrong, but on the whole the people were good-natured and having fun. The girls and young women didn’t seen upset by what was happening. I thought about the threats and violence they did to me in Nazareth because they judged me to have stepped outside their rules. I thought about the time I used to lie naked in the sun under the fig tree and talk to God – well no-one ever saw me, at least I don’t think they did. I remember though the horror and scandal when the Roman soldier brought me back to the village on his horse and people were shocked because my clothes were torn and indecent, so they said. Was what I’d seen today worse and more to be condemned than that? I don’t know. When I put Joshua down to sleep that night he was still clutching the veil. I tried to take it gently from him, but he’d wound it round his fist, so I left him. When I looked in later, he was holding its softness against his cheek and sucking his thumb. Oh well, I might as well forget how he’d got it and let him comfort himself in his sleep. I wonder if that girl would ever realise that her veil had comforted the future Messiah!