Well, we're still in Mut, and currently experiencing one of Egypt's (and the Islamic World's as well) idiosyncrocies, which is that apparently during Ramadan small town banks only take cash, and not the ATM cards and traveller's checks that they would ordinarily. Which wouldn't be that big a deal, except that we just exchanged our last $20 bill, so we are going to have to be extra careful with our finances for the next three days (as in "tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow" as the bank employee explained it) until we can restore our personal finances to full health.
This situation, obviously, leads perfectly into our promised section on the differences (small & large) between Egypt and America:
1. Since Arabic cannot be precisely transliterated into English, numerous accepted spellings often exist (Mut vs. Mout, Bahariyya vs. Bahariya vs. Baharea).
2. In cities, most people who speak English at you just want to sell you something, most likely papyrus (often bananna leaves) or perfume (flower extract).
3. In rural areas, most people who speak English only know a few phrases, but will smile the whole time and won't ask for anything (particularly the children, who will ask "what is your name," "what is your age," and sometimes "what is your favorite food," or "what are your favorite hobbies"). They also usually know "hello," "welcome," and "goodbye" - and that right there is the entire conversation, which is repeated just about constantly with every herd of children we see!
4. Ramadan brings all of Egypt to a grinding, grumpy halt, as virtually everyone has to fast for a month straight, and all businesses either close or keep drastically shorter hours. For example, most banks, museums, and historical sites close at 3 p.m., as opposed to 6 p.m. or 7 p.m. like usual.
5. The system of baksheesh (rampant in cities, virtually nonexistant in the desert oasis'), that is, of tipping a pound or two (20 to 40 cents) for almost any service is seriously broken. Ahmed passing a pound to Mohammad to get his mail, who gives it to Said for sweeping the walk (most likely unneccessarily), who then forks it over to Ali to see a tomb, who then returns it to Ahmed for something else, is not only painfully redundant, but taxing on a system which lacks any real infrastruction, and consequently doesn't really benefit anyone, as the same money just moves around cyclically amongst the Egyptians. Obviously tourists are taken advantage of more (baksheesh to hotel owners, tombs, guards who want you to take their photo not the other way around, guides, etc. really adds up) but particularly in Cairo Egyptians are expected to baksheesh with shocking frequency as well.
6. Tourists, and it seems Americans in particular, are often treated as dollar bills on legs. Admissions to museums, archeological sites, and other such things are often inappropriately pricey, though thankfully our under-26 cards (which pass as student cards due to the language/written character barrier) give us 50% off of virtually all admissions.
7. Recreational activities are quite limited, particularly during Ramadan, but generally the men hang out at awhas (coffeeshops), smoking numerous sheeshas (flavored tobacco from a hookah) or cigarettes and drinking untold cups of extremely hot tea. Dominos is the game of choice (and actually very fun), but backgammon, chess, and checkers are also played. Barbershops and anywhere in the streets are also popular male hangout locations, but women by comparison are seldom seen except when shopping. We believe we have spotted one beauty shop in Mut City, but it is very small, cramped, and obscured, unlike all the other shops.
Aside from all of those differences, life here is exactly the same!
We are currently chilling at an internet cafe, packed with youthful gamers, listening to the likes of Eminem, The Black Eyed Peas, and Jay-Z. Strangely comforting, even though we listen to our mp3 player all the time.
There is more to be said here, but our extreme hunger can finally be dealt with, since Ramadan ends now!!! Let the feasting begin!!!
Monday, October 23, 2006
Saturday, October 21, 2006
Hello from the Dakkhla Oasis, deep in the Egyptian desert! We are staying at the Anwar Hotel, in the town of Mut (the Muths in Mut -- haha), and have been relaxing here for several days now, though we just finally found an internet cafe late yesterday afternoon. It was a bit hard to find since there wasn't any sign in English, but a friend of our hotel proprietor gave us a ride and showed us where it was located, so that made our lives much easier. First, some brief computer stuff, and then onto the details of what we have been doing for almost the last week: Youtube seems to be working fine now, and hopefully we will be adding more videos tonight if we have time, otherwise in the near future, but many more will be coming soon, we promise! Also, the tagboard that was on the side is no more, our emails to the company have bounced back, so we are pretty sure that they went under. Perhaps we will fine a replacement eventually, but obviously that is not exactly the pressing priority. Before we get into the details, everything has been going wonderfully since we left Cairo, the people and vibe of the rural oasis' is much more to our liking, and we will be staying here in Mut for at least another 4 or 5 days, through the end of Ramadan and the 3-day feast/party that follows. We figure that the celebration will be more authentic here, and certainly more accessible since we are the only tourists even staying in town right now (the tourist season doesn't really start for another week or two, after Ramadan and once it is a little cooler out). But before Mut, we spent a few days in another oasis, Bahariyya, which possessed a lot of natural beauty, though the town itself was rather filthy. However, we left you hanging about what happened at our hostel during our last night there, and though it wasn't anything too terrible, it involved some shady behavior by the hostel owner, which means we are certainly not returning to the Pension Vienna once we're back in Cairo, which we had previously planned to do.
Basically, Mr. Ramadan, the hostel owner, confronted us outside the hostel when we returned from wandering about with Hassan (and booking our trip to Bahariyya), and told us that we needed to pay for all of our internet usage, 3 EGP per hour, of which there had been many hours spent uploading photos, videos, emailing, etc. However, the problem was that this had never been mentioned to us previously, not in our agreement with Hostel World, nor by Mr. Ramadan himself during the several times he had chatted with us while we were on the computer, and there was definitely not any sort of sign, in English or Arabic. The other problem was that he had semi-coerced us into filling out our rating of his hostel under his supervision, which of course meant we had to give him high ratings across the board (we are currently waiting on a reply from Hostel World concerning that), but that then afterwards his attitude towards us completely changed. It seemed that he just wanted the rating from us, and then it was back to trying to suck as much cash out of the "rich Americans," which is how most people, particularly in Cairo, view us. Obviously, he doesn't know how to use a computer, since he would then know that ratings can be changed, as well as the fact that his explanation of why we needed to pay for the internet time in the first place just didn't quite make sense. But we blew him off, and the half-hearted crony that he sent up to our room shortly afterwards, and we of course used the internet as planned later that evening (which the night worker had nor problem with, since he was even using the computer at the time), which pretty much proved that he was just trying to scam us out of even more money - he had overcharged us for an additional night, which Anderson didn't realize at the moment he gave him the money, since it was late and we had initially paid in euros via the internet, and were then paying in EGP - plus, we hadn't expected our seemingly-kindly host to turn money-grubber, but we learned that lesson quite quickly. Fortunately we left early the next morning to catch our bus, and Mr. Ramadan had not yet arrived for the day, so that is how things have ended, though if you ever go to Cairo, do not stay at the Pension Vienna Hostel!
We will be putting together a comprehensive list with explanations about the differences between American & Egyptian culture, of which there are many, but that will be a separate post, in the meantime we want to get you all caught up on our adventures, since we left Cairo early Monday morning, and it is now mid-afternoon on Saturday.
At 7 a.m. Monday morning then, after staying up until 2 a.m. the night before updating things, we met Sayed from the travel agency (whom we had met the night before for tea and sheesha with Hassan) outside of our hotel, and he kindly escorted us to the bus station, via taxi, got our tickets, and waited with us until 8-ish when the Upper Egypt Bus Co. bus arrived to take people to Bahariyya. Sayed was very nice, he gave us his mobile number and email address so we can contact him when we are back in Cairo, and he earned "extra points" as the first Egyptian to refuse baksheesh, saying that friends don't accept money from friends! A small victory perhaps, but at least it put us in a good mood for the 5+ hour bus ride, of which most of the time we spent in some state of semi-sleep, though by the time we arrived in Bahariyya, we were reasonably refreshed despite the often bumpy ride through the desert. We were picked up at the bus station by representatives from Ahmed's Safari Camp, where we were staying, though we mistook them for hotel touts as first, being used to the pace of Cairo, plus our guide book had forewarned us that we would be attacked, but after a minute or two of confusion things got figured out. The room there was fine, and we enjoyed a nice lunch of tomato-and-egg stew-like stuff, with pita bread, and a plate of fresh cucumber, tomato, and fresh cheese which was like mozzarella crossed with yogurt - all very fresh and very good. We then went on a tour of the surrounding area, with 2 Australian girls who had spent the previous night out in the White Desert, which included stops at the nearby expansive salt lake, an abandoned "English House" which was more like an army post built out of rocks - but it did provide an excellent view of not only the town of Bahariyya, but also all of the countryside, before heading to a rather dirty and sulfur-smelling hot spring, which we only dipped our feet in, though that in itself felt wonderful!
Bahariyya (and Dakkhla as well) is very, very rural, with almost as many donkeys and donkey-carts providing transportation as beat-up old Fiats and Land Rover 4x4s. Many people still live the traditional Bedouin lifestyle, of gathering palm fronds to make baskets, using mud-brick to build houses and pottery, riding donkeys, and harvesting dates and apricots from trees, in addition to the grains, beans and other field crops that much of their diet consists of. The standard meal, which is amazingly tasty (fortunately, since we have eaten it at least once every single day!), includes a large portion of rice, a bowl of cooked down vegetables - primarily squash, with tomatoes or something else occasional added, and a quarter of half of chicken for the meat, which sometimes is not even available. A fresh salad is sometimes the mezze (appetizer/starter), which would be cucumber, tomato, and a little lettuce finely diced, and often a bowl of clear soup with a thin bean (of some sort) is included as well. But everything is wonderfully flavored, seasoned properly, warm, and satisfying, so we have no real complaints about the food, though at the same time when Ramadan ends, and then more variety of food will become available, we are certainly not going to complain! At that point, falafel, pizza, and kushari (a noodle & rice dish that is amazingly good) will all become available again, much to everyone's delight we are sure.
Anyways, after our guided tour of Bahariyya itself, we had dinner (you can guess what it was) with the 2 Australian girls (Kaddy & Jess), and a German guy whom we had ridden the bus with, and then the 5 of us spent several hours relaxing, talking about cultural differences, and listening to a wide variety of music. A "Western" night in many ways, but we were the only people staying there, and it was nice to have a conversation without either a language barrier or salespitch involved. The main room at Ahmed's Safari Camp was quite nice, with a ping-pong table and a billiards table, plus ample room to lounge. After a nice long sleep, we chilled in our room reading for a while (since the desert heat is oppressive around noontime, even in "autumn"), before joining everyone for a quick lunch, and then a departure for the desert. It was just us, our guide named Ismed (probably spelled incorrectly, but he spoke just the minimum of English), and a nice Korean guy named Kwan. Our itinerary was filled with natural marvels, so make sure to check out the photos to get the full scope of things, but first we went to the Black Desert, where the rocks and sand are appropriately colored, before heading to the Crystal Mountain, a lone outcropping of an entirely quartz rock pile in the middle of the barren desert, though it did lay directly off the road we were traveling on. We rode in a Land Rover, fortunately, since we often trekked a bit into the desert, and a car would probably have not made it! The desert is relatively rarely traveled, we saw very few cars, and only a few other tourists, mostly once we had arrived in the White Desert. It should be noted that the deserts in general are quite mountainous, and although the are obviously very sandy, they are in most places rocky as well.
The White Desert appeared in the distance, shimmering, as it is filled with huge rock formations, made of a white chalk-ish mineral, and all shapes and sizes rise out of the desert, often looking like mushrooms, camels, faces, or anything else that the imagination might desire, really. We camped amongst these outcroppings then, with a very organized Ismed setting up first a wind-block, then a fire, and we watched the white rocks change colors from white to pink to orange (like a moving Salvador Dali painting), before darkness descended. There is little life in the desert, and yet there were footprints and droppings everywhere from desert foxes, though despite our efforts we did not manage to ever see one, though several of their former sleeping holes were reused as latrines. Our dinner was excellent, and the fact that it was predictable made no difference whatsoever, and honestly the chicken was probably the best we have had yet, since it was slowly char-broiled over a well-kept flame. We then chatted (well, with Kwan) about America, Korea, Egypt, football, etc. and listened to our mp3 player (which is a life-saver at times, when at least the music can be familiar, if nothing else is), so Hunab Ku, just know that you have been rocked out to in the White Desert in Egypt! After a bit of stretching (very nice in the sand), much stargazing (the night was amazingly clear and we could see tons of stars, as well as the band of the Milky Way), and some relaxing after our very filling meal, it was time for bed, as the sun and the subsequent heat would be waking us up around 6 a.m.
Shortly after retiring, in sleeping bags on sleeping pads and blankets, Liz asked our guide if he had ever been rained on, since we had seen some lightning on the horizon in the distance. He laughed and said no (in his own Egyptian way), but lo and behold as soon as we settled down to sleep, we felt first one, and then several drops of rain. So we had to burrow under our sleeping bags and sweatshirt pillows, and eventually the wind was whipping enough sand our way that Anderson actually had to put on his sunglasses to protect his contacts, but we did eventually manage to fall asleep, as although the rain showers continued for part of the night, they were infrequent and it never poured or anything, it is the desert after all. We awoke throughout the night, it is definitely a little disorienting sleeping outside in the desert, but the storm abated within a few hours and the night sky was again crystal-clear.
The sun did indeed wake us up early, and the sun rise was just as impressive as the sunset, though our typical Egyptian breakfast of bread, cheese, and jam lacked the usual tea since all of the matches had gotten soaked the night before. We later found out that it actually only rains on average twice a year, so in some ways we received quite the rare treat by experiencing a desert rainstorm. After breakfast, Ismed quickly packed up the Land Rover, and we headed to a nearby fossil bed (though we actually thought he was saying "flowers" for the longest time), which had once been an ancient sea. The fossils were everywhere, and the landscape was just littered with their black fragments. We then took the over-an-hour journey back to Bahariyya, which included stops at a few patrol booths (rather hilarious and unnecessary, as barrels blockade the road), and a stop at a steaming hot spring for Ismed to wash the dishes. The spring was far too hot for even our toes to be in for more than a few seconds, and steam was constantly rising off the water, and so although we couldn't bathe in it, it was nice to relax there for a few minutes at least. We had been debating on whether to stay in Bahariyya for another night (or longer), and then if so whether to stay at Ahmed's Safari Camp (which was 4 km outside of town), or to venture into town and stay elsewhere, but we eventually decided (after returning and enjoying wonderful sand-removing showers), that our best bet was to take the bus that day to Dakkhla, another oasis, where lodging was cheaper and more plentiful in the town of Mut. Included in the tour we got in Cairo was the bus ride, but we figured it would be smarter to use that right away, rather than complicate things, plus the general dirtiness of Bahariyya didn't exactly encourage us to stay much longer. So another lengthy bus-ride was endured, this one around 6 hours, but fortunately the bus wasn't very crowded, and we not only had seats near the air vents, but we could also actually lay down in the back and get some slightly-higher-quality sleep.
We arrived in Mut at dusk, and picked the Anwar Hotel from about 2 or 3 low-priced options in our Lonely Planet guidebook as our first choice, and after getting briefly turned around (since the bus dropped us off at a different location than the bus station), we ambled over to the hotel. After meeting the proprietor (who we quickly learned is named Sameh, and is the owner's middle son), we examined the room - 3 beds, a balcony, and a fan - and haggled for a price (80 EGP, about $14 since $1 = 5.7 EGP) for 3 nights for both of us, and settled in. A typical, and typically tasty, meal was brought to us quite quickly, and some semi-cold mineral water was acquired for us as well. Ramadan in these small towns means much of the usual comforts are not available, and when they are the hours are very different, with things opening later or not at all, so when we walk the streets here in Mut, everyday it seems that a whole different set of shops are open! The town here is very relaxing and friendly, with everyone waving and saying "hello," of "welcome," and we are often mobbed by groups of school children (there is no school during Ramadan either), asking us "what is your name," "what is your age," and "what are your hobbies," all full of excitement, and curiosity, before a quick "goodbye" before they scurry off, laughing and smiling. It is all very cute and enjoyable, which makes the repetitious nature very tolerable and enjoyable. Our hotel owner, the elder Mr. Anwar, worked for the government for 35 years, so pictures of him with the president adorn the hotel walls, and it seems the family is quite successful within the town, as they own a restaurant and pizzeria next to the hotel, and Mr. Anwar's brother owns a coffeeshop and another business as well. Life here is simple, so we sleep late, read for a while, before taking brief tiring walks in the desert heat, and end up fasting ourselves most days due to the difficulty in finding food when no restaurants are really open. The nights are totally different, as the weather becomes just about perfect, a slight breeze brings a slight chill, but we play dominos at the coffeeshops (usually Mr. Anwar's brother's), smoke sheesha (tobacco from a hookah - which the older men do constantly, while the younger men alternate between sheeshas and cigarettes), and drink numerous glasses of shai (tea, both regular, with mint, or hibiscus, all served painfully hot at first, but very tasty after they cool a little bit). The hotel has a stereo, so we listen to our mp3 player through that, much to the delight of Sameh, who always wants to dance with Liz (who he most undoubtedly has a crush on - imagine that - but like all Egyptian men he acts somewhat like a 15-year-old even though he is our age). Mr. Hampdy (?), a local schoolteacher, hangs out with us as well, he is older, and has given Anderson some rides on his rumbling and ancient Fiat motorcycle.
Since we are the only tourists in town, Egypt is turning out to be very good preparation for India, much more so than we really initially thought. As we said we will remain here in Mut for at least 4 or 5 more days before heading back to the land of the tombs and tourists in Aswan and Luxor, but between now and then we will hopefully get to experience the post-Ramadan feasting and partying. We'll post more details on our time here in Mut later, but things really are quite simple, so they have already been summed up fairly well. Pictures are slowly uploading from our time in the desert, though they are certainly taking a while, but at least some will be up before we leave the internet cafe this evening.
Peace & much love from the Egyptian desert - Anderson & Liz
Basically, Mr. Ramadan, the hostel owner, confronted us outside the hostel when we returned from wandering about with Hassan (and booking our trip to Bahariyya), and told us that we needed to pay for all of our internet usage, 3 EGP per hour, of which there had been many hours spent uploading photos, videos, emailing, etc. However, the problem was that this had never been mentioned to us previously, not in our agreement with Hostel World, nor by Mr. Ramadan himself during the several times he had chatted with us while we were on the computer, and there was definitely not any sort of sign, in English or Arabic. The other problem was that he had semi-coerced us into filling out our rating of his hostel under his supervision, which of course meant we had to give him high ratings across the board (we are currently waiting on a reply from Hostel World concerning that), but that then afterwards his attitude towards us completely changed. It seemed that he just wanted the rating from us, and then it was back to trying to suck as much cash out of the "rich Americans," which is how most people, particularly in Cairo, view us. Obviously, he doesn't know how to use a computer, since he would then know that ratings can be changed, as well as the fact that his explanation of why we needed to pay for the internet time in the first place just didn't quite make sense. But we blew him off, and the half-hearted crony that he sent up to our room shortly afterwards, and we of course used the internet as planned later that evening (which the night worker had nor problem with, since he was even using the computer at the time), which pretty much proved that he was just trying to scam us out of even more money - he had overcharged us for an additional night, which Anderson didn't realize at the moment he gave him the money, since it was late and we had initially paid in euros via the internet, and were then paying in EGP - plus, we hadn't expected our seemingly-kindly host to turn money-grubber, but we learned that lesson quite quickly. Fortunately we left early the next morning to catch our bus, and Mr. Ramadan had not yet arrived for the day, so that is how things have ended, though if you ever go to Cairo, do not stay at the Pension Vienna Hostel!
We will be putting together a comprehensive list with explanations about the differences between American & Egyptian culture, of which there are many, but that will be a separate post, in the meantime we want to get you all caught up on our adventures, since we left Cairo early Monday morning, and it is now mid-afternoon on Saturday.
At 7 a.m. Monday morning then, after staying up until 2 a.m. the night before updating things, we met Sayed from the travel agency (whom we had met the night before for tea and sheesha with Hassan) outside of our hotel, and he kindly escorted us to the bus station, via taxi, got our tickets, and waited with us until 8-ish when the Upper Egypt Bus Co. bus arrived to take people to Bahariyya. Sayed was very nice, he gave us his mobile number and email address so we can contact him when we are back in Cairo, and he earned "extra points" as the first Egyptian to refuse baksheesh, saying that friends don't accept money from friends! A small victory perhaps, but at least it put us in a good mood for the 5+ hour bus ride, of which most of the time we spent in some state of semi-sleep, though by the time we arrived in Bahariyya, we were reasonably refreshed despite the often bumpy ride through the desert. We were picked up at the bus station by representatives from Ahmed's Safari Camp, where we were staying, though we mistook them for hotel touts as first, being used to the pace of Cairo, plus our guide book had forewarned us that we would be attacked, but after a minute or two of confusion things got figured out. The room there was fine, and we enjoyed a nice lunch of tomato-and-egg stew-like stuff, with pita bread, and a plate of fresh cucumber, tomato, and fresh cheese which was like mozzarella crossed with yogurt - all very fresh and very good. We then went on a tour of the surrounding area, with 2 Australian girls who had spent the previous night out in the White Desert, which included stops at the nearby expansive salt lake, an abandoned "English House" which was more like an army post built out of rocks - but it did provide an excellent view of not only the town of Bahariyya, but also all of the countryside, before heading to a rather dirty and sulfur-smelling hot spring, which we only dipped our feet in, though that in itself felt wonderful!
Bahariyya (and Dakkhla as well) is very, very rural, with almost as many donkeys and donkey-carts providing transportation as beat-up old Fiats and Land Rover 4x4s. Many people still live the traditional Bedouin lifestyle, of gathering palm fronds to make baskets, using mud-brick to build houses and pottery, riding donkeys, and harvesting dates and apricots from trees, in addition to the grains, beans and other field crops that much of their diet consists of. The standard meal, which is amazingly tasty (fortunately, since we have eaten it at least once every single day!), includes a large portion of rice, a bowl of cooked down vegetables - primarily squash, with tomatoes or something else occasional added, and a quarter of half of chicken for the meat, which sometimes is not even available. A fresh salad is sometimes the mezze (appetizer/starter), which would be cucumber, tomato, and a little lettuce finely diced, and often a bowl of clear soup with a thin bean (of some sort) is included as well. But everything is wonderfully flavored, seasoned properly, warm, and satisfying, so we have no real complaints about the food, though at the same time when Ramadan ends, and then more variety of food will become available, we are certainly not going to complain! At that point, falafel, pizza, and kushari (a noodle & rice dish that is amazingly good) will all become available again, much to everyone's delight we are sure.
Anyways, after our guided tour of Bahariyya itself, we had dinner (you can guess what it was) with the 2 Australian girls (Kaddy & Jess), and a German guy whom we had ridden the bus with, and then the 5 of us spent several hours relaxing, talking about cultural differences, and listening to a wide variety of music. A "Western" night in many ways, but we were the only people staying there, and it was nice to have a conversation without either a language barrier or salespitch involved. The main room at Ahmed's Safari Camp was quite nice, with a ping-pong table and a billiards table, plus ample room to lounge. After a nice long sleep, we chilled in our room reading for a while (since the desert heat is oppressive around noontime, even in "autumn"), before joining everyone for a quick lunch, and then a departure for the desert. It was just us, our guide named Ismed (probably spelled incorrectly, but he spoke just the minimum of English), and a nice Korean guy named Kwan. Our itinerary was filled with natural marvels, so make sure to check out the photos to get the full scope of things, but first we went to the Black Desert, where the rocks and sand are appropriately colored, before heading to the Crystal Mountain, a lone outcropping of an entirely quartz rock pile in the middle of the barren desert, though it did lay directly off the road we were traveling on. We rode in a Land Rover, fortunately, since we often trekked a bit into the desert, and a car would probably have not made it! The desert is relatively rarely traveled, we saw very few cars, and only a few other tourists, mostly once we had arrived in the White Desert. It should be noted that the deserts in general are quite mountainous, and although the are obviously very sandy, they are in most places rocky as well.
The White Desert appeared in the distance, shimmering, as it is filled with huge rock formations, made of a white chalk-ish mineral, and all shapes and sizes rise out of the desert, often looking like mushrooms, camels, faces, or anything else that the imagination might desire, really. We camped amongst these outcroppings then, with a very organized Ismed setting up first a wind-block, then a fire, and we watched the white rocks change colors from white to pink to orange (like a moving Salvador Dali painting), before darkness descended. There is little life in the desert, and yet there were footprints and droppings everywhere from desert foxes, though despite our efforts we did not manage to ever see one, though several of their former sleeping holes were reused as latrines. Our dinner was excellent, and the fact that it was predictable made no difference whatsoever, and honestly the chicken was probably the best we have had yet, since it was slowly char-broiled over a well-kept flame. We then chatted (well, with Kwan) about America, Korea, Egypt, football, etc. and listened to our mp3 player (which is a life-saver at times, when at least the music can be familiar, if nothing else is), so Hunab Ku, just know that you have been rocked out to in the White Desert in Egypt! After a bit of stretching (very nice in the sand), much stargazing (the night was amazingly clear and we could see tons of stars, as well as the band of the Milky Way), and some relaxing after our very filling meal, it was time for bed, as the sun and the subsequent heat would be waking us up around 6 a.m.
Shortly after retiring, in sleeping bags on sleeping pads and blankets, Liz asked our guide if he had ever been rained on, since we had seen some lightning on the horizon in the distance. He laughed and said no (in his own Egyptian way), but lo and behold as soon as we settled down to sleep, we felt first one, and then several drops of rain. So we had to burrow under our sleeping bags and sweatshirt pillows, and eventually the wind was whipping enough sand our way that Anderson actually had to put on his sunglasses to protect his contacts, but we did eventually manage to fall asleep, as although the rain showers continued for part of the night, they were infrequent and it never poured or anything, it is the desert after all. We awoke throughout the night, it is definitely a little disorienting sleeping outside in the desert, but the storm abated within a few hours and the night sky was again crystal-clear.
The sun did indeed wake us up early, and the sun rise was just as impressive as the sunset, though our typical Egyptian breakfast of bread, cheese, and jam lacked the usual tea since all of the matches had gotten soaked the night before. We later found out that it actually only rains on average twice a year, so in some ways we received quite the rare treat by experiencing a desert rainstorm. After breakfast, Ismed quickly packed up the Land Rover, and we headed to a nearby fossil bed (though we actually thought he was saying "flowers" for the longest time), which had once been an ancient sea. The fossils were everywhere, and the landscape was just littered with their black fragments. We then took the over-an-hour journey back to Bahariyya, which included stops at a few patrol booths (rather hilarious and unnecessary, as barrels blockade the road), and a stop at a steaming hot spring for Ismed to wash the dishes. The spring was far too hot for even our toes to be in for more than a few seconds, and steam was constantly rising off the water, and so although we couldn't bathe in it, it was nice to relax there for a few minutes at least. We had been debating on whether to stay in Bahariyya for another night (or longer), and then if so whether to stay at Ahmed's Safari Camp (which was 4 km outside of town), or to venture into town and stay elsewhere, but we eventually decided (after returning and enjoying wonderful sand-removing showers), that our best bet was to take the bus that day to Dakkhla, another oasis, where lodging was cheaper and more plentiful in the town of Mut. Included in the tour we got in Cairo was the bus ride, but we figured it would be smarter to use that right away, rather than complicate things, plus the general dirtiness of Bahariyya didn't exactly encourage us to stay much longer. So another lengthy bus-ride was endured, this one around 6 hours, but fortunately the bus wasn't very crowded, and we not only had seats near the air vents, but we could also actually lay down in the back and get some slightly-higher-quality sleep.
We arrived in Mut at dusk, and picked the Anwar Hotel from about 2 or 3 low-priced options in our Lonely Planet guidebook as our first choice, and after getting briefly turned around (since the bus dropped us off at a different location than the bus station), we ambled over to the hotel. After meeting the proprietor (who we quickly learned is named Sameh, and is the owner's middle son), we examined the room - 3 beds, a balcony, and a fan - and haggled for a price (80 EGP, about $14 since $1 = 5.7 EGP) for 3 nights for both of us, and settled in. A typical, and typically tasty, meal was brought to us quite quickly, and some semi-cold mineral water was acquired for us as well. Ramadan in these small towns means much of the usual comforts are not available, and when they are the hours are very different, with things opening later or not at all, so when we walk the streets here in Mut, everyday it seems that a whole different set of shops are open! The town here is very relaxing and friendly, with everyone waving and saying "hello," of "welcome," and we are often mobbed by groups of school children (there is no school during Ramadan either), asking us "what is your name," "what is your age," and "what are your hobbies," all full of excitement, and curiosity, before a quick "goodbye" before they scurry off, laughing and smiling. It is all very cute and enjoyable, which makes the repetitious nature very tolerable and enjoyable. Our hotel owner, the elder Mr. Anwar, worked for the government for 35 years, so pictures of him with the president adorn the hotel walls, and it seems the family is quite successful within the town, as they own a restaurant and pizzeria next to the hotel, and Mr. Anwar's brother owns a coffeeshop and another business as well. Life here is simple, so we sleep late, read for a while, before taking brief tiring walks in the desert heat, and end up fasting ourselves most days due to the difficulty in finding food when no restaurants are really open. The nights are totally different, as the weather becomes just about perfect, a slight breeze brings a slight chill, but we play dominos at the coffeeshops (usually Mr. Anwar's brother's), smoke sheesha (tobacco from a hookah - which the older men do constantly, while the younger men alternate between sheeshas and cigarettes), and drink numerous glasses of shai (tea, both regular, with mint, or hibiscus, all served painfully hot at first, but very tasty after they cool a little bit). The hotel has a stereo, so we listen to our mp3 player through that, much to the delight of Sameh, who always wants to dance with Liz (who he most undoubtedly has a crush on - imagine that - but like all Egyptian men he acts somewhat like a 15-year-old even though he is our age). Mr. Hampdy (?), a local schoolteacher, hangs out with us as well, he is older, and has given Anderson some rides on his rumbling and ancient Fiat motorcycle.
Since we are the only tourists in town, Egypt is turning out to be very good preparation for India, much more so than we really initially thought. As we said we will remain here in Mut for at least 4 or 5 more days before heading back to the land of the tombs and tourists in Aswan and Luxor, but between now and then we will hopefully get to experience the post-Ramadan feasting and partying. We'll post more details on our time here in Mut later, but things really are quite simple, so they have already been summed up fairly well. Pictures are slowly uploading from our time in the desert, though they are certainly taking a while, but at least some will be up before we leave the internet cafe this evening.
Peace & much love from the Egyptian desert - Anderson & Liz
Sunday, October 15, 2006
Wow.
The ups and down of Cairo have pushed us to the brink of insanity, while kind people have pulled us back with their hospitality and compassion. The last couple days have been very long, and very trying in many regards, and so consequently we will be flying back to the States immediately.
Just kidding - we're taking a morning bus to the Bahariyya Oasis for some much needed relaxation, at least one night of camping in the White Desert, as well as a drive between there and the adjacent Black Desert. Obviously the desert names refer to the color of the sand, and both are supposed to be beautiful. But since we never seem to know what the future will hold at all, enough about what should happen, let us tell you about what has happened:
After our lengthy first Egyptian day, including our Giza adventure, we slept in until after noon, getting some much needed rest. Due to Ramadan, finding food before the first evening prayer at 5:30 p.m. is quite difficult, and arguably culturally inconsiderate, so we hung around our hostel, before taking a walk shortly before 5 p.m. in order to see the surrounding area for the first time. The streets of downtown Cairo are filled with many touts, selling all sorts of papyrus and perfume/flower essence, and being non-Egyptians means they seek us out like no other. It is further complicated by the fact that they all act like nice men who just want to chat, and obviously it is in our nature to oblige people, since we want to make new friends and meet real people, not just other tourists/foreigners/travellers. We met a man named Ayman, who swore he had nothing to sell when he invited us to dinner at his cousin's house. Technically he was correct, but after our delicious dinner of spicy vegetables, rice, meat, the omnipresent pita bread, and some tea, his cousin (of course) took us upstairs for a perfume sales pitch. We minorly obliged him, since we needed a travel container, and the strength of the dollar here means that the 20 Egyptian Pounds that we spent comes to under $4. We also realized that Mohammad Ali (the boxer) came here in the 70s/80s, and apparently met everyone's uncle/father/brother/cousin, since all the shops we have been in have framed, faded, and oft-used photos. After the sale, Ayman invited us to a bar, so we ended up on a 7th floor hotel's rooftop bar, where we drank the strong (and supposed 10%) local brew: Sakara (which ought to be spelled Saqqara, but 'q' and 'k' are substitutable when transliterating between Arabic and English). They had a ping-pong table, and since we were pretty much the only customers, the two otherwise bored employees, Sharif and Meenah, definitely had a good time with us, getting their picture taken, being videotaped, and smoking way too many of the local favorite Cleopatra cigarettes.
One of the first things that you learn as a foreigner here, is that everything gets rounded up, against you, since the money is very confusing (many small bills, in terrible condition), and prices are rarely, if ever, posted. But we had a fun time, and Ayman was at least a reasonably nice companion, though it is tough because you never know what people are saying right in front of you in Arabic. So we decided to go with the flow, which was to take a taxi to his friend's house for some peach brandy (gotten by us at a duty-free shop) and some card-playing. But the cab ride took forever, of course, and we basically ended up on the edge of Cairo's suburbs, which is to say way, way out in the desert. But obviously that's where we were, so we hung out, were treated to another nice Egyptian meal, and in addition to his friend Omar (who turned out to be a rather chauvanistic douchebag), there was Omar's girlfriend Dana (from Germany who could certainly do much better), and an Egyptian-turned-Frenchman (he lives with his French wife near Marseilles) named Hassan, who is honestly one of the nicest people we have met on our trip yet. After some card playing, which was basically old-maid and rather boring, we had run out of mineral water, and since we were assured that the "Swiss market" was very close, Anderson volunteered to ride their bicycle there, since our hosts had been kindly and friendly to us.
So, while Liz remained, Anderson's descent into the desert started off alright, as the road where their apartment was quickly led to the main road, and the directions of "take a left and follow the lights to the market" seemed pretty simple. But after much riding (and with both pedals casually breaking off on the gear-less pedal bike that they had) the only sign of civilization had been a closed "Smile" gas station, which though ironically named, was very unhelpful concerning the rapidly increasing dehydration and exhaustion. So, (switching to first person for a moment, sorry for the break in continuity) I headed back the way I had came, figuring that worse things could happen than returning without any water, since we could certainly boil some, or just take a cab ride home and drink to our hearts' content there. But the road seemed to go on forever, and then a larger-than-remembered hill had to be conquered, and soon the scenery began looking not-quite-right. Then bad turned to worse, and the bike ceased to work - the pedals were still going, or rather the remaining stubs of what had once been pedals, but the bike was not moving at all. There was, however, a row of lights in the distance, which seemed to possibly be where I needed to be, but they were definately a way off in the distance, so I immediately began trying to flag down the occasional passing vehicles. It probably should be mentioned that by now it was at least 5 a.m., and I had been gone for what seemed like forever, but must have been around an hour, if not longer. So with legs burning, and a mind filled with despair, I finally flagged down a dumptruck, since no cars had deemed me worthy of a stop. There were two Egyptian men in the truck, and one helped me toss the defective bike in the back bed, and so I squeezed in between two kindly Arabic-speakers, and began the struggle of trying to explain my predicament. They offered me some water, though since it was assuredly from a local tap, as much as I craved it I knew I could not consume it.
We headed to the semi-distant row of lights, but before too long we hit a round-about, which I had most definitely not encountered during my ride, so I had them stop, and explained that things were "not right," and "very bad," which they did understand, and so they nicely pulled over, and attempted to help me call our hostel, which I fortunately had all the information for in my pocket since carrying the guide book around all the time is a little too touristy for our tastes. But between my bad handwriting, and (I learned later) the addition of the unnecessary country code, the call did not go through. But just then a taxi was spotted in the distance, and so we all three ran to try and flag it down. Of course we did not arrive in time, and at that moment the most awful sickness hit me, and I had to empty my entire stomach contents, mostly on the road, but due to the suddenness of it all somewhat on my shoes and pants. After three such awful moments, my kindly Egyptian saviors quickly pulled out a cushion from their truck, and gave me the water, which at that point I drank regardless of future consequences, since the present situation trumped any future illness that might result (which fortunately none have). After resting for a while, and missing yet another taxi, finally as the rays of dawn (and the heat of the day) hit, a third taxi came by and it shuddered to a halt. Taxis here, by the way, are primarily beaten up early 80s diesel Fiats. How they even still run is quite the conundrum, particularly given the road conditions here, but at that current moment thoughts like that were the furthest thing from my mind. The taxi driver only spoke Arabic as well, obviously, and so "Downtown Cairo," and the "Egyptian Museum" - which are hostel is quite near, meant nothing to him, nor did our hostel address in written or verbal form. But we finally ran into a semi-English speaker, who was headed in the same direction, and so I returned, in quite the exhausted daze, to Cairo and then finally our hostel, after a quick stop at a market for some much-anticipated water (several hours after I went to get some!). Meanwhile, elsewhere in Egypt, Liz was having a fun time as well:
Fun is not the exact term of what was happening back at that suburban apartment where I was left to worry my brains out about what was happening to Anderson. After an hour and still no sign of Anderson I couldn't help but start to ask questions to my new friends: "Would it take this long?" and "Do you think he's okay?" No one seemed particularly concerned so for another half an hour I worked myself up in silence. By then it was obvious that things were not right and Hassan was clearly starting to worry, too. I began pacing back and forth to the balcony in hopes of that first sighting but with no luck. The options were pretty slim as to what could have happened since either it was something really bad (kidnapped or hurt) or he was hopelessly lost. Everyone there insisted that the Egyptians (especailly in the suburbs) would never hurt him, but they were in agreement that he was likely to be lost (or in Omar's case smoking sheesha somewhere). Of course nothing made me feel better since Anderson would never leave me without notification in an odd situation, so I knew without a doubt that whatever he WAS doing, he was not having fun. Soon after, Hassan left to go and look for him. He was gone a good 45 minutes and asked all the neighbors if they had seen Anderson. Since Hassan was unsuccessful that made him, and me, worry a bit more. To be honest, I was near crazy with worry and almost made myself sick from it (but I had to keep it together since I needed these people's help). By this time the sun was up (not fun to watch the sunrise while overcome with a stress headache) and something needed to change. Dana was the first to suggest that we take a taxi back to the hostel and wait, since anyone lost would go to where they know. I was thinking this but didn't have a penny on me, so I jumped at the oppurtunity to borrow some from her. Omar, being the wonderful guy that he is, barked at the idea since we are both "Western women." But, since he didn't like that idea he was willing to surrender his phone so I could call the hostel. Luckily I had the backpack with our dear notebook so I had all the information at my fingertips. The first call was unsuccessful since his phone almost ran out while I was waiting for the hostel worker to "wake up Mr. Anderson." Clearly I knew that Anderson couldn't be sleeping in our room (since I had the only key) so things were looking quite dim. I called back five minutes later just in case though, and lo' and behold Mr. Anderson had walked in that same instant. What a relief to hear his voice!! He gave me a quick rundown of the situation and now I was more than excited to leave that dreary apartment and reunite with him back at the room. But first, I had to get there. Thankfully, that dear Hassan was willing to escort me to our door, and after an hour-or-so journey, first by foot, then by minibus, then by foot again, I saw a ragged Anderson (and a giant bottle of water) waiting outside. It was 8:30 a.m. at this point and we had just had one of the (if not THE) craziest nights of our life, and certainly the most unusual of our trip thus far!
Since we were back together again, and semi-adequately hydrated, our main concern was to get some sleep, since our initial day's plan of going to the Egyptian Museum was immediately postponed until Sunday. Ramadan even affects such a tourist-driven place, with the closing time at 3 p.m. instead of the usual 7 p.m. Instead, though, we slept most of the day, basking in our air-conditioned and shade-darkened hostel room, and enjoying every non-conscious second of it!
About all we did Saturday evening, was grab some food from a nearby stand-up Felfala place (which serves felafel, koushuri - an amazing noodle, rice, and chickpea dish, shawerma - kebob meat in a sandwich, and numerous other Middle Eastern favorites like mashed potatoes served in a pita), and accept the invitation of our hostel owner for a relaxing sheesha and mango puree drink.
Today, as in Sunday (which is not the weekend anymore, that being Friday and Saturday here), we finally hit up the Egyptian Museum, which is literally just down the block from our hostel. The museum is amazing, for several reasons. First, it houses what must be the largest collection of artifacts housed anywhere, at well over 120,000, with impressive highlights including the famed collection of artifacts from King Tutankhamen's tomb (gold masks, sarcophogi, jewelry, etc.), as well as the two rooms filled with temperature-controlled royal mummies, and the Narmer Palette(the first written documentation of a united Upper & Lower Egypt). Secondly, the museum is so packed with artifacts, and so scarce on space, that most of the 100 + rooms are brimming with pharaonic paraphenalia. Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, the labelling system and storage techniques are all so hilariously outdated, that it borders on impossible to find the most impressive pieces, and when you finally do, there is often absolutely no information about them. Add on top of that the multi-lingual yelling guides, the hordes of tourists all over the massive two floors of the museum, and the plethora of museum security who don't seem to do much at all, though at least one was getting some excellent sleep passed out at his post. In addition, many rooms are poorly lit, in the process of being cleaned or painted, and the floorplan itself means that even we almost missed out on the entire second room of the royal mummies, even though we had already bucked up for the seperate admission (which is oddly enough more than the regular museum admission itself). That all being said, it is still very informative, and the archeological wealth more than impressive, which in many ways just makes the current situation a giant shame both to the artifacts themselves as well as the visitors who are trying to enjoy them. But it isn't called the Egyptian Museum for nothing, since everything about it is very, very Egyptian. After that odyssey, we relaxed at our hostel briefly, before eating dinner at the packed post-Ramadan-fast Gad Restaurant, where we enjoyed delicious authentic food, verified by our presence as the only non-locals in the entire place. We also grabbed some honey pastries from the local fav El-Abd Bakery, which made for a delicious dessert. By sheer chance, on our walk back, we encountered Liz's savior from the day before, Hassan, who was out shopping for shoes with his younger brother. So we recounted our adventures for him, and then enjoyed some delicious hibiscus juice (or maybe it's tea, we're really not sure) at a local ahwa (coffeeshop), and he took us to a close friend of his who is a travel agent to secure our morning (well, 4-hour-away) trip to the Bahariyya Oasis. Assuming that that goes as planned - which obviously at this point we are hesitant to be sure of anything - we are very thankful for Hassan's help, since travel shops are literally everywhere in Cairo, and they all look virtually identical, so telling the good ones from the bad ones is virtually impossible unless you actually know someone who is reliable. It is at this point, heading back to our hostel, that some more craziness involving our hostel itself occurred, but since we are still here, writing about it is a little inappropriate, so that will have to wait until our next update, which may be a few days off due to the lack of readily accessible internet access in the desert, but we will obviously try our best to keep you updated. Until then, peace be with you, and hopefully with us as well!
PS - Sorry about the Youtube invite, the system freaked out on us, and we currently cannot even load the website, so we are not sure what exactly is even going on!
The ups and down of Cairo have pushed us to the brink of insanity, while kind people have pulled us back with their hospitality and compassion. The last couple days have been very long, and very trying in many regards, and so consequently we will be flying back to the States immediately.
Just kidding - we're taking a morning bus to the Bahariyya Oasis for some much needed relaxation, at least one night of camping in the White Desert, as well as a drive between there and the adjacent Black Desert. Obviously the desert names refer to the color of the sand, and both are supposed to be beautiful. But since we never seem to know what the future will hold at all, enough about what should happen, let us tell you about what has happened:
After our lengthy first Egyptian day, including our Giza adventure, we slept in until after noon, getting some much needed rest. Due to Ramadan, finding food before the first evening prayer at 5:30 p.m. is quite difficult, and arguably culturally inconsiderate, so we hung around our hostel, before taking a walk shortly before 5 p.m. in order to see the surrounding area for the first time. The streets of downtown Cairo are filled with many touts, selling all sorts of papyrus and perfume/flower essence, and being non-Egyptians means they seek us out like no other. It is further complicated by the fact that they all act like nice men who just want to chat, and obviously it is in our nature to oblige people, since we want to make new friends and meet real people, not just other tourists/foreigners/travellers. We met a man named Ayman, who swore he had nothing to sell when he invited us to dinner at his cousin's house. Technically he was correct, but after our delicious dinner of spicy vegetables, rice, meat, the omnipresent pita bread, and some tea, his cousin (of course) took us upstairs for a perfume sales pitch. We minorly obliged him, since we needed a travel container, and the strength of the dollar here means that the 20 Egyptian Pounds that we spent comes to under $4. We also realized that Mohammad Ali (the boxer) came here in the 70s/80s, and apparently met everyone's uncle/father/brother/cousin, since all the shops we have been in have framed, faded, and oft-used photos. After the sale, Ayman invited us to a bar, so we ended up on a 7th floor hotel's rooftop bar, where we drank the strong (and supposed 10%) local brew: Sakara (which ought to be spelled Saqqara, but 'q' and 'k' are substitutable when transliterating between Arabic and English). They had a ping-pong table, and since we were pretty much the only customers, the two otherwise bored employees, Sharif and Meenah, definitely had a good time with us, getting their picture taken, being videotaped, and smoking way too many of the local favorite Cleopatra cigarettes.
One of the first things that you learn as a foreigner here, is that everything gets rounded up, against you, since the money is very confusing (many small bills, in terrible condition), and prices are rarely, if ever, posted. But we had a fun time, and Ayman was at least a reasonably nice companion, though it is tough because you never know what people are saying right in front of you in Arabic. So we decided to go with the flow, which was to take a taxi to his friend's house for some peach brandy (gotten by us at a duty-free shop) and some card-playing. But the cab ride took forever, of course, and we basically ended up on the edge of Cairo's suburbs, which is to say way, way out in the desert. But obviously that's where we were, so we hung out, were treated to another nice Egyptian meal, and in addition to his friend Omar (who turned out to be a rather chauvanistic douchebag), there was Omar's girlfriend Dana (from Germany who could certainly do much better), and an Egyptian-turned-Frenchman (he lives with his French wife near Marseilles) named Hassan, who is honestly one of the nicest people we have met on our trip yet. After some card playing, which was basically old-maid and rather boring, we had run out of mineral water, and since we were assured that the "Swiss market" was very close, Anderson volunteered to ride their bicycle there, since our hosts had been kindly and friendly to us.
So, while Liz remained, Anderson's descent into the desert started off alright, as the road where their apartment was quickly led to the main road, and the directions of "take a left and follow the lights to the market" seemed pretty simple. But after much riding (and with both pedals casually breaking off on the gear-less pedal bike that they had) the only sign of civilization had been a closed "Smile" gas station, which though ironically named, was very unhelpful concerning the rapidly increasing dehydration and exhaustion. So, (switching to first person for a moment, sorry for the break in continuity) I headed back the way I had came, figuring that worse things could happen than returning without any water, since we could certainly boil some, or just take a cab ride home and drink to our hearts' content there. But the road seemed to go on forever, and then a larger-than-remembered hill had to be conquered, and soon the scenery began looking not-quite-right. Then bad turned to worse, and the bike ceased to work - the pedals were still going, or rather the remaining stubs of what had once been pedals, but the bike was not moving at all. There was, however, a row of lights in the distance, which seemed to possibly be where I needed to be, but they were definately a way off in the distance, so I immediately began trying to flag down the occasional passing vehicles. It probably should be mentioned that by now it was at least 5 a.m., and I had been gone for what seemed like forever, but must have been around an hour, if not longer. So with legs burning, and a mind filled with despair, I finally flagged down a dumptruck, since no cars had deemed me worthy of a stop. There were two Egyptian men in the truck, and one helped me toss the defective bike in the back bed, and so I squeezed in between two kindly Arabic-speakers, and began the struggle of trying to explain my predicament. They offered me some water, though since it was assuredly from a local tap, as much as I craved it I knew I could not consume it.
We headed to the semi-distant row of lights, but before too long we hit a round-about, which I had most definitely not encountered during my ride, so I had them stop, and explained that things were "not right," and "very bad," which they did understand, and so they nicely pulled over, and attempted to help me call our hostel, which I fortunately had all the information for in my pocket since carrying the guide book around all the time is a little too touristy for our tastes. But between my bad handwriting, and (I learned later) the addition of the unnecessary country code, the call did not go through. But just then a taxi was spotted in the distance, and so we all three ran to try and flag it down. Of course we did not arrive in time, and at that moment the most awful sickness hit me, and I had to empty my entire stomach contents, mostly on the road, but due to the suddenness of it all somewhat on my shoes and pants. After three such awful moments, my kindly Egyptian saviors quickly pulled out a cushion from their truck, and gave me the water, which at that point I drank regardless of future consequences, since the present situation trumped any future illness that might result (which fortunately none have). After resting for a while, and missing yet another taxi, finally as the rays of dawn (and the heat of the day) hit, a third taxi came by and it shuddered to a halt. Taxis here, by the way, are primarily beaten up early 80s diesel Fiats. How they even still run is quite the conundrum, particularly given the road conditions here, but at that current moment thoughts like that were the furthest thing from my mind. The taxi driver only spoke Arabic as well, obviously, and so "Downtown Cairo," and the "Egyptian Museum" - which are hostel is quite near, meant nothing to him, nor did our hostel address in written or verbal form. But we finally ran into a semi-English speaker, who was headed in the same direction, and so I returned, in quite the exhausted daze, to Cairo and then finally our hostel, after a quick stop at a market for some much-anticipated water (several hours after I went to get some!). Meanwhile, elsewhere in Egypt, Liz was having a fun time as well:
Fun is not the exact term of what was happening back at that suburban apartment where I was left to worry my brains out about what was happening to Anderson. After an hour and still no sign of Anderson I couldn't help but start to ask questions to my new friends: "Would it take this long?" and "Do you think he's okay?" No one seemed particularly concerned so for another half an hour I worked myself up in silence. By then it was obvious that things were not right and Hassan was clearly starting to worry, too. I began pacing back and forth to the balcony in hopes of that first sighting but with no luck. The options were pretty slim as to what could have happened since either it was something really bad (kidnapped or hurt) or he was hopelessly lost. Everyone there insisted that the Egyptians (especailly in the suburbs) would never hurt him, but they were in agreement that he was likely to be lost (or in Omar's case smoking sheesha somewhere). Of course nothing made me feel better since Anderson would never leave me without notification in an odd situation, so I knew without a doubt that whatever he WAS doing, he was not having fun. Soon after, Hassan left to go and look for him. He was gone a good 45 minutes and asked all the neighbors if they had seen Anderson. Since Hassan was unsuccessful that made him, and me, worry a bit more. To be honest, I was near crazy with worry and almost made myself sick from it (but I had to keep it together since I needed these people's help). By this time the sun was up (not fun to watch the sunrise while overcome with a stress headache) and something needed to change. Dana was the first to suggest that we take a taxi back to the hostel and wait, since anyone lost would go to where they know. I was thinking this but didn't have a penny on me, so I jumped at the oppurtunity to borrow some from her. Omar, being the wonderful guy that he is, barked at the idea since we are both "Western women." But, since he didn't like that idea he was willing to surrender his phone so I could call the hostel. Luckily I had the backpack with our dear notebook so I had all the information at my fingertips. The first call was unsuccessful since his phone almost ran out while I was waiting for the hostel worker to "wake up Mr. Anderson." Clearly I knew that Anderson couldn't be sleeping in our room (since I had the only key) so things were looking quite dim. I called back five minutes later just in case though, and lo' and behold Mr. Anderson had walked in that same instant. What a relief to hear his voice!! He gave me a quick rundown of the situation and now I was more than excited to leave that dreary apartment and reunite with him back at the room. But first, I had to get there. Thankfully, that dear Hassan was willing to escort me to our door, and after an hour-or-so journey, first by foot, then by minibus, then by foot again, I saw a ragged Anderson (and a giant bottle of water) waiting outside. It was 8:30 a.m. at this point and we had just had one of the (if not THE) craziest nights of our life, and certainly the most unusual of our trip thus far!
Since we were back together again, and semi-adequately hydrated, our main concern was to get some sleep, since our initial day's plan of going to the Egyptian Museum was immediately postponed until Sunday. Ramadan even affects such a tourist-driven place, with the closing time at 3 p.m. instead of the usual 7 p.m. Instead, though, we slept most of the day, basking in our air-conditioned and shade-darkened hostel room, and enjoying every non-conscious second of it!
About all we did Saturday evening, was grab some food from a nearby stand-up Felfala place (which serves felafel, koushuri - an amazing noodle, rice, and chickpea dish, shawerma - kebob meat in a sandwich, and numerous other Middle Eastern favorites like mashed potatoes served in a pita), and accept the invitation of our hostel owner for a relaxing sheesha and mango puree drink.
Today, as in Sunday (which is not the weekend anymore, that being Friday and Saturday here), we finally hit up the Egyptian Museum, which is literally just down the block from our hostel. The museum is amazing, for several reasons. First, it houses what must be the largest collection of artifacts housed anywhere, at well over 120,000, with impressive highlights including the famed collection of artifacts from King Tutankhamen's tomb (gold masks, sarcophogi, jewelry, etc.), as well as the two rooms filled with temperature-controlled royal mummies, and the Narmer Palette(the first written documentation of a united Upper & Lower Egypt). Secondly, the museum is so packed with artifacts, and so scarce on space, that most of the 100 + rooms are brimming with pharaonic paraphenalia. Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, the labelling system and storage techniques are all so hilariously outdated, that it borders on impossible to find the most impressive pieces, and when you finally do, there is often absolutely no information about them. Add on top of that the multi-lingual yelling guides, the hordes of tourists all over the massive two floors of the museum, and the plethora of museum security who don't seem to do much at all, though at least one was getting some excellent sleep passed out at his post. In addition, many rooms are poorly lit, in the process of being cleaned or painted, and the floorplan itself means that even we almost missed out on the entire second room of the royal mummies, even though we had already bucked up for the seperate admission (which is oddly enough more than the regular museum admission itself). That all being said, it is still very informative, and the archeological wealth more than impressive, which in many ways just makes the current situation a giant shame both to the artifacts themselves as well as the visitors who are trying to enjoy them. But it isn't called the Egyptian Museum for nothing, since everything about it is very, very Egyptian. After that odyssey, we relaxed at our hostel briefly, before eating dinner at the packed post-Ramadan-fast Gad Restaurant, where we enjoyed delicious authentic food, verified by our presence as the only non-locals in the entire place. We also grabbed some honey pastries from the local fav El-Abd Bakery, which made for a delicious dessert. By sheer chance, on our walk back, we encountered Liz's savior from the day before, Hassan, who was out shopping for shoes with his younger brother. So we recounted our adventures for him, and then enjoyed some delicious hibiscus juice (or maybe it's tea, we're really not sure) at a local ahwa (coffeeshop), and he took us to a close friend of his who is a travel agent to secure our morning (well, 4-hour-away) trip to the Bahariyya Oasis. Assuming that that goes as planned - which obviously at this point we are hesitant to be sure of anything - we are very thankful for Hassan's help, since travel shops are literally everywhere in Cairo, and they all look virtually identical, so telling the good ones from the bad ones is virtually impossible unless you actually know someone who is reliable. It is at this point, heading back to our hostel, that some more craziness involving our hostel itself occurred, but since we are still here, writing about it is a little inappropriate, so that will have to wait until our next update, which may be a few days off due to the lack of readily accessible internet access in the desert, but we will obviously try our best to keep you updated. Until then, peace be with you, and hopefully with us as well!
PS - Sorry about the Youtube invite, the system freaked out on us, and we currently cannot even load the website, so we are not sure what exactly is even going on!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)