Cairo

Sunday, March 12
3:17 pm CST
11:17 pm Cairo

Heehe! Fraggle Rock in Egypt! Heehe! This just made my day. Boober is running away, and he just ran into Cotterpin who is in distress. “The Blob. It ate my friend!”

Today was pretty slow, relatively to the past few. After a whirlwind yogurt and juice breakfast, we boarded our bus for the Egyptian Museum.

(The Blob just ate mother!)
(And now it just ate Cotterpin!)

Our destinations have been great all, but the drives through Cairo are phenomenal. My eyes are locked to the window. It’s a cheap way to experience the city when you don’t have the time to actually experience the city (sadly), especially from our elevated perspective. There are 22 million people in this city, whose urban plan is designed for two. The congestion is on a par with Tokyo, but the sort of (forgive my terminology) third-world-ness of the landscape makes it seem even more crammed. There appear to be no rules to the road; these drivers make Chicago look like Iowa. People walk straight into the weaving speeding traffic, and their respective paths remain astonishingly untangled.

Probably 90% of the females I’ve seen wear the head scarves, though many are not as conservatively dressed below the neck. I’ve heard from one of the travelers that this is a stark change since last she was here fifteen years ago. The Muslim Brotherhood has really moved into the city.

Today’s drive took us to central “downtown” Cairo, on the West Bank of the Nile. We passed the Four Seasons, the Hilton, McDonald’s, KFC, Baskin Robbins (!), and several Radio Shacks. Now I know how they stay in business in the US… They’re everywhere here. From the highway we got a glimpse down small streets, alleys almost, teeming with people, cars, garbage, animals. Even in the downtown area, donkeys walk among taxis. This is a city that I must return to, and not the least because I’m really bummed I didn’t get to any bazaars or suqs or marketplaces.

We arrived at the museum near opening time, and joined the throngs of tourists and school children inside. Today is Sunday, but given that Friday is the holy day, going to school on Sunday is normal I guess? For working in a museum, I sure have a low attention span when I’m the visitor. Especially this one, as Monica was right: It is so packed with artifacts, some just stacked on each other, extremely poor lighting, downright dark in some spots (brought my flashlight), and 95% unlabeled.

Robert lectured extensively on several artifacts, including a very interesting case indicating that writing began even earlier than scholars thought, and it developed in Egypt, completely independent of Mesopotamia. The capstone to one of the pyramids we saw from a distance yesterday was also on display. That was cool. For lack of a better description, it was really smooth and shiny, i.e. not at all what I imagined the cap to a pyramid to look like given the crumbling rough surfaces that remain. Makes you really wonder how stunning they must have looked “back then.” There was also a rather neglected piece that we learned was of supreme importance: the tomb of Osiris. Robert likened it to finding the coffin of Christ, for Osiris is the Christ equivalent of Egyptian religion. Very neat, very unlabeled and pushed in a corner. We moved through the cramped, poorly lit galleries that move chronologically through Egypt’s history to see the objects that tie in with this particular tour, those that feature Egypt-Libya interactions. At some points it seemed that Robert was just off on a tangent with his lectures, but at the very end he pulled it all together in a surprising and impressive manner.

After that, Walid gave us first-timers the Tut tour, showing the three galleries that house the treasures of his tomb. Really beautiful stuff. My favorite pieces were the walking sticks with the heads of his enemies carved into the handle; he would walk with the cane inverted, however, so that his enemies were scraping the ground and his name (carved in the round bottom) would be in his palm. The alabaster statuary was exquisite. The funerary beds were whimsical in a creepy sort of way. I saw some of the Harry Burton photographs we’re going to have on display in May. The pure physicality of the tomb was a bit mind-boggling for me. Seeing all four encasements around his coffin, then two of the three coffins (they left his actual mummy in Luxor), and the canopic jars. Oh, the canopic jars were also some of my favorites. Talk about detail. The delicately painted faces were mesmerizing, but one of them is on tour with the Tut show. I’ll see it in May. Of course, I had to ogle all of the gold jewelry and the mummy mask.

Can I say, European tourists can be damn pushy. I felt way too many boobs. Same scene at the Milan airport.

After the highlights, I wandered a bit back to the entrance. Through a room of, well, caskets really. Painted cartonnages lined floor to ceiling, some in quite lovely condition and still very brightly colored. There were two child-size coffins, too, which gave me chills. On a whim, I turned into a room to look over the balcony at the end, but passed two dioramas of soldiers, one featuring Egyptian soldiers, the other Nubian. It looked vaguely familiar, then I saw that they were mentioned in guide book. I’ll have to see if those are the same Nubian soldiers we have a photo of in the new gallery. This is exactly what I mean about the poor labeling: any other museum would have arrows and signs and oh, maybe a FLOOR PLAN indicating where pieces like this, pieces that are referenced as a must-see, are located. It’s not just the museum though, even the pyramids are like that; we had to ask where the Sphinx was (more on that later).

So, made my way out and popped into the gift shop. Bought some chotchke souvenirs. Got back on the bus to the hotel. I was a little torn, though. Half of the group was staying behind to wander about the city, the other half going back to the hotel to go to the pyramids. I’m generally all for experiencing the city, the people, the culture over the tourist spots, but it’s the freaking Great Pyramids. I can’t NOT go see them up close. (That’s not included in this tour.) The odds of me returning to Egypt are probably fairly high compared to most, but still. Had to do it.

So it was back to my bus-bound view of Egyptian society and culture. The route home was poignant, and pungent. At one point, it looked like all of Cairo was a slum. Apartment buildings, tenements really, were crumbling at their base and unfinished at the roof. I couldn’t really tell what was happening, as it certainly didn’t look like new construction (of which there is a lot), but they were certainly not finished. Many of the tenants used the protruding steel rods to string up their clothes for drying. Garbage was strewn everywhere. The sort of clichéd image of children playing amongst filth was stark reality here. Little boys kicking a soccer ball around mounds of trash, while in another section a herd of sheep lazed on the rubble. I think some of the trash was burning, for there was a wretched stench for a stretch. No greenery, anywhere. I know in Egypt things only grow where water is, or where water is brought, but this was a somber representation of that. It was just a stunning scene.



Returning to the opulence of the Mena House, I had a quick lunch with the Robins (I like Sandy a lot) and then we took off for the pyramids across the street. (Don't worry, Mom, I didn't wander off alone afterall.) I had a little bit of “wow I can’t believe I’m here!” again upon touching the first pyramid. We ran out of time before getting close up to the “Great” pyramid, but the second greatest pyramid will do just fine. Took a photo of a lounging camel, and got my rock. Muahahaha.



Like I said before, we had to ask how to get to the Sphinx. It’s at once tiny and imposing. Tiny perhaps, just in relation to the enormous pyramids lurking in the background. Of course, it was under scaffolding! The sun was setting and so everything was backlit. Didn’t make for great pictures, but was a rather serene scene.

At this point, Giza closes and we are made to leave. However, we were on the opposite end of the plateau from where we entered, right near the hotel. We tried to convey this to the man shooshing everyone out, that we would leave, we just wanted to do it from the other side. After much persuading, he finally allowed us to go but insisted on accompanying us. Should have known. He took us on the “very special” route back though because he “likes Americans.” Granted, it was a pretty cool walk that we would not have taken otherwise, including a stunning view of the plain all the way to Sakkara and Dashur. Of course, as we near the exit, he begins his plea for cash. Poor Norm, he endured the brunt of the swindle. Our “guide” was insulted at the 30 pounds offered to him, insisting on American dollars. I think in the end he ended up with about $5.

It was about 5pm when we came back to the hotel, and I just needed to relax a bit. Sat out on the balcony writing a couple of postcards and reading up on my Egyptian history (it always sticks better after I’ve something to relate back to). Got a little sleepy, so I took a nap, when I was actually intending to write this. Time goes by, and all of a sudden its about 9 pm, and I’ve missed dinner. Most knew I was not going with the group to the fish restaurant, ick, but I did tell Joan that I would have dinner with her. Oops. I’m really not that hungry, thankfully. Minibar is a bit pricey.

Finally dragged myself out of bed to pack up. We’ve got a really early start tomorrow, so I packed, took a shower, and changed money so I’ll be ready to get up and go in the AM. I feel like I’m already getting a rep as the late one (or, after tonight, the absent one). Got one last view of the pyramids, all lit up at night. I’m just now getting used to the fact that I’m here, and we’re leaving!

Tomorrow we depart for Port Said at the mouth of the Suez Canal. Doesn’t look like we’re spending much time there, which is too bad. Looks rather interesting. Actually, from here on out, most of our touring is just a place to stop en route to Libya, save for Alexandria.

Three weeks to go.

Checking In

Saturday, March 11
2:30 pm CST
10:30 pm Cairo

The last entry was just a checklist of what we did today and memorable occurrences along the way. I fully intended to come back after and flesh it out. That time is now, but I am tired and I have a belly full of yummy Indian food. However, that food will probably wake me up during the night, at which point I will tell you all about my first full day in Egypt. Gotta rest up, for tomorrow is the Egyptian Cairo Museum (I’m exhausted just thinking of it), plus my own excursion to the Giza pyramids (don’t tell mom I went off on my own…).

Let me just say this: the hotel pillows are amazing. Four gigantic fluffy puffs, but not too soft.

First Impressions

Friday, March 10
10:08 am CST
6:08 pm, Cairo EGYPT

The call to prayer just began echoing through my room. At first I thought it was the television, tuned to the instrumental channel by my accidental intruder/evening housekeeper, then I heard it was coming from beyond the closed curtains. I stepped out onto the balcony, and froze. The chant is haunting and sad, resonating above the buzz of automobile tires and horns. It’s a sonic clash against the neon streetscape of casinos and shops, but a meditating complement to the green gardens below. I think just now, at this moment, I realize I am in Cairo.

The sense of the epic, of that which is larger than life, is already sinking in, and I’ve only been two hours in the Middle East. In less than half a dozen interactions with Egyptians, I’ve felt a pride most Americans just don't get. This is a country whose history has become the world’s mythology. You learn about King Tut and the pyramids and Cleopatra in school, but they are such surreal characters, or inexplicable phenomena, or so commercialized, that they become unreal. I don't know. Having trouble composing actual thoughts right now. It's just a really sort of humbling experience so far. I think I always feel this way when I go to a foreign country, though.

To wrap up the journey getting here (which went surprisingly swift and smooth)… Dinner, where last we spoke, was disappointing, as our travel agent did not communicate VEGETARIAN to the airline for me. Beef or salmon, no thanks. I had a roll and a fruit cup, plus my stowaway banana from the bagel shop this morning. After my snack, I popped the snoozing pill hoping for a guaranteed knockout, since a food coma was not bloody likely. Apparently the antidote for a sleeping pill is a giant LCD screen two feet from your face. (Definitely need to remember the beautysleep blackout mask for next time, since I could still make out Jake Gyllenhaal through my eyelids.) Breakfast was served when the second, Italian flick was finishing up. Cinnamon roll, fruit cup, and ham & cheese on rosemary foccacia. I admit, the tummy was grumbling enough by that point to eat around the ham, which I deem much less offensive than beef or salmon.

Three-hour layover in Milan. Pretty uneventful, mediocre souvenirs. Still hungry and not knowing at all what culinary delights awaited me in Egypt, I filled up on mozzarella panini and Toblerone (ahh, Europe). Screeching babies on the next flight disrupted the quest for ZZs yet again. I daydreamed myself to semi-sleep for a bit, woke up and peeked across the aisle to the window. It was blinding bright and white, and I thought it was the sky, until my eyes came into focus and made out curving shadows and sparse structures. The desert.

We were met immediately at the gate by Hisham, brother of the owner of our Egyptian-based tour company. My reputation appears to have preceded me, for he knew exactly who I was. At this point I am assured that I “can relax now.” Finally! The bus ride though Cairo to our hotel (Oberoi Mena House) is startling in its reality, or the reality as I’ve seen in movies and the news. Maybe Syriana is just too fresh in my mind. We drove past palatial estates, the President’s house, military headquarters, and – of couse – CITIBANK, before heading through the dead city and Islamic Cairo. To be honest, it looked like a Middle Eastern Cabrini Green, with mosques. We passed a herd of camels trotting on the wrong side of the street. Horse-drawn carts merging with taxis and minivans, dogs and donkeys roaming about, a flock of sheep resting with their leader alongside the road next to a housing development, even cows slumbering and slurping from irrigated pools.



Crossing the Nile was momentous. I mean, c’mon, it’s the Nile. Goes back to that whole mythology thing, how these places and monuments just don’t seem like they could possibly exist, but look, here they are. The river crossing was also especially thrilling because this is where the tips of the great pyramids first come into view. As their peaks rose steadily above the skyline, so did the commercialization of the landscape. Not unexpected, by a long shot, and I guarantee I’ll be in those shops tomorrow.

We made it our hotel, a former royal hunting and sporting resort literally across the freaking street from the pyramids. My room is quite comfortable, and well-appointed, with the aforementioned balcony. I’m away from the main building, where everyone else is staying. Not sure why. At first I thought that meant I get a “special” room. But no, just an outcast. I was unpacking when a soft knock followed by a turn of the knob brought the (also aforementioned) “evening housekeeper” in to turn down my bed. He was slightly mortified to see that I was in here, and that he disturbed my privacy. No biggie, I say. Just good to know that the doors do not lock automatically. He folded up the top comforter, folded down my bedding (topped with room service breakfast menu), turned on the TV to the Mena House infomercial, and then – this totally got me – went into the bathroom and refolded the toilet paper into a little square. Quel service! I’ve heard about Middle Eastern hospitality before, and he’s doing a fine job of proving them right. I am completely ignorant of tipping etiquette here, however. Was I supposed to give him something? Or the porter? I never know! Especially not in a group sitch like this.



The whole group is meeting for the first time tonight at dinner (several passengers flew in on their own). That’s in 52 minutes. Forget the nap, time for a shower.