Category: Egypt

Cairo, Egypt, Hawaii, Kauai: The Garden Island, Krabi Province, Thailand

Dogs are to Asia what Cats are to the Middle East what…

Joel

Dogs are to Asia what Cats are to the Middle East what chickens are to the Hawaiian island of Kauai: Stray. Feral. Wild. Whatever you want to call them.

Before I started my travels, my travel doctor pondered whether I might need a rabies shot on top of all the other immunizations I had to get. Now I know why. There seem to be no shortage of stray dogs wondering the streets of Thailand. Many of them look quite sick. Many just lie around in the street and on sidewalks, where pedestrians give them a wide berth. The only ones that really seemed threatening were recent mothers nursing pups. You just had to make sure you never got between them and their young.

Egypt, on the other hand, seemed to be full of stray cats. They were interesting to watch as they looked like they were always scheming to score some food. They would travel around in gangs and use each other as lookouts while they found ways to sneak into buildings through broken windows and other holes.

The Hawaiian island of Kauai, as I mentioned earlier, was full of jungle fowl known as “Moa” and introduced by the Polynesians. Basically, they were chickens and roosters who loved to cock-a-doodle-do at all hours of the night and day (which was particularly fun while you were camping). The strangest scene I recall with these creatures was a family of chicks being herded by its mother through a crowded Walmart parking lot.

I guess it’s a good idea all these strays are segregated in different parts of the world or they’d never get along.

Aswan, Cairo, Egypt, Luxor

The Hustle

Joel

The most tiring aspect of life in Egypt is having to endure the constant hustling. When you first arrive, they must sense your naiveness and big bright eyes because they seem to decend on you more. Now that I’ve learned to keep my head down, I tend to be left alone.

Although everyone I’ve met has been very friendly, the friendliest people have seemed to be the ones after your wallet. They are always trying to steer you into a shop somewhere, although sometimes innocently (I think). If anyone tries to be extra nice to you here, you can bet they’ll want money in the end.

The hustlers I really resent are the ones trying to con you in some way. They will lie to you about something being closed (whether its a museum or pyramid) in order for you to be bundled into their shop and given a hard sell on something. Or you may find yourself being given a “free” tour you never agreed to pay for but one you’ll be expected to give a hefty tip for.

Every tourist I’ve spoken with seems to agree that the area around the Great Pyramids in Giza is the worst. Its very hard to appreciate the significance of the pyramids when you’re being bugged every few minutes for a donkey, camel, or horse ride, or a tour guide. The other really bad places have been along the Nile in towns like Luxor and Aswan where you are constantly being asked to take a Felucca (sailboat) ride, a horse and buggy, or a taxi. It’s nice to get inside a museum, temple, or tomb because you’ll usually find a temporary moment of peace and quiet in there.

Other annoying hustling happens when children run up and ask you for Euros or adults try to charge you a toll for walking through their scenic neighborhoods. The worst place I found for this was in the beautiful Nubian villages on Elephantine Island in Aswan.

Photography can be difficult because a lot of people will try to demand money if they know they will be in your shot. Market stall owners will try to charge money to let you photograph the front of their stalls. I’ve been trying to sneak telephoto shots as a result.

It all gets a bit taxing, but as I said, I seem to be bothered by hustlers less and less the longer I hang around here. Either that or I’m just noticing it less.

Aswan, Cairo, Egypt, Luxor

A life in the Middle East

Joel

After spending about ten days here, I thought I would give you some reflections on life in the Middle East.

You can feel a slow transition of cultures as you work your way across the country. The further north and east you get, the more Middle Eastern everything feels. The more southern you get, the more African everything feels.

One of the hardest things to get used to is Arabic script. The tourist places will usually have English translations, but you won’t find them in a lot of areas. The most difficult thing are the numbers, which are unlike the numbering system you’ll find in the West or in Asia. They use a script that makes a “5” look like a “0” and a “0” look like a “-“, so “50” in English translates to “0-” in Arabic, among other things. Simple things like trying to find your train platform or an address on a street you’ve been able to find on an English language map are very difficult. The currency is printed in Arabic on one side and English on the other, so you have to keep flipping your money over to make sure your handing out the right amount.

The country is predominately Muslim, although there are a few old churches and synagogs about. While most Eqyptians don’t seem to be devoted enough to drop to their knees every day, there are plenty that do. The mosques call out for prayers early in the morning (before sunrise), around 3PM, and at sunset. Hearing all the mosques calling out is almost like hearing a multi-alarm fire going off at fire stations throughout your community. Except instead of a siren, you hear someone singing/wailing through a microphone. When travelling by train through country towns up and down the Nile the mosques are all decorated with neon lights.

Most women keep their heads covered, although some more than others. Some have everything but their eyes covered. Every time I have tried to speak with a woman in a head covering, she has attempted to communicate back in a friendly way, only to be snapped at in Arabic by a passing older man — forcing her to reel back somewhat. Many of the older men here dress in traditional clothing that resembles something along the lines of Libya leader Omar Khadafi’s getup.

The younger population seems a bit more hip, listening to funky Middle Eastern music and rap from the west. Many young kids seem to be learning English in school these days because they always seem eager to practice their English on you.

This all being said, virtually everyone I’ve interacted with has been very friendly and honest with me and their fellow Egyptians. It almost seems as though they’re all distantly related somehow (especially in more rural areas). They seem to know exactly how each person walking down the street fits into their huge extended family.

Aswan, Cairo, Egypt, Luxor

The Commute

Joel

Just thought I would fill you in on some interesting characteristics of travelling around Egypt, now that I’m back in Cairo:

I mentioned before at how crazy the drivers were in this city of 10 million. Nobody seems to pay any attention to lines in the road, traffic lights, or even police officers directing traffic. They may moderately slow down, but if they see a gap in cross traffic, they just surge straight through a red light. If police are out directing traffic, they’ll sneak behind them as soon as they turn their backs.

The biggest shock is their refusal to use headlights at night, for some reason. I asked one taxi driver why nobody liked to drive at night with their headlights on, and he told me they don’t use them if they can see without them. This applies to the country as well as the cities. Occasionally they’ll flash their headlights to warn someone who they think may not have seen them. It gets really dangerous on country roads because their are plenty of donkeys pulling carts without reflectors. This all being said, I have yet to see an accident (although I have witnessed a few very close calls).

As you can imagine, this makes being a pedestrian very scary. I find myself continually heading down side streets where the traffic is narrow and lighter or heading for subway tunnels to get across some of the more congested parts of town.

And speaking of donkeys, you’ve never seen anything as funny as someone riding on the back of a donkey. Unlike horses, they never seem to get off the ground. They just seem to roll along with little tiny bounces that resemble a dribbling basketball just before it starts to roll. It looks most uncomfortable for the riders.

Cairo happens to have a very nice subway system, although like everything else around here, it seems to be covered in a fine desert silt. Eqypt in predominantely Muslim, so they reserve the first few cars of every subway train for women only. Every time I see those cars roll by, the women look like they’re having a great time without any men around. Women are allowed to sit anywhere on the trains, it’s just that men can’t sit in these first few cars.

Boats use much the same custom, especially as you head south. I made the mistake of sitting in the women’s section of a ferry boat in Aswan and was politely invited to sit back with another guy in the rear section of the boat. He was very nice about it, but explained that it was their custom.

Taxi’s don’t use meters here, so you have to barter a fare before you get in. You can often get them to cut their prices in half. The most annoying thing about them is that they insist on honking everytime they see a tourist (inquiring whether they might want a taxi – just in case they hadn’t already thought of it on their own). It gets really annoying and makes a walking exploration of the city quite jarring and stressful.

When I was riding in one half hour taxi ride around sunrise, the driver promptly pulled over at the first hint of daylight, got out of the cab, aligned himself with Mecca, put his prayer mat down, got down on his knees, kissed the earth, and prayed for about five minutes. No meter involved since we bartered, so it didn’t cost me anything extra.

The cheapest way of getting around is to jump on a public taxi van. They seem to use the same system here that they were using in Fiji. Usually for about US$0.15 you can hop on a van packed with locals and ride as long as you want in whatever direction they’re circulating. It gets a bit wild and crazy as they boom funky music and try to cram as many passengers as they can in back, but it’s lots of fun. They seem to get a kick out of having a tourist travelling with them.

The overnight train here from Aswan was fine. They’re basically the same trains they use in Europe, and they tend to keep the tourists travelling separately from the general Egyptian population. I managed to get about five hours of sleep last night, which wasn’t too bad.

Security is pretty tight all over Egypt these days. There are armed guards with machine guns riding in the engine compartment of most trains. There are tourist police all over the popular tourist areas, and there are military check points on many roads leading around the country. Most of these police seem very friendly and eager to practice their English on you. Sometimes they’ll try to bum a cigarette off you in the end since just about everyone is a chain smoker around here.

Aswan, Egypt

Odd Egyptian Encounter #2: Aswan

Joel

With an hour to kill before my train was scheduled to depart Aswan for Cairo, I decided to take a walk around to a quiet city park so I could read my Lonely Planet Guide and plan my next few days back in Cairo.

There were plenty of local people relaxing in the park, but I finally managed to find an empty bench I could sit down on and read. The benches in the park were always paired with the two benches positioned back to back and facing in opposite directions from each other. My set of benches were empty on both sides.

While I started to read, I heard some Egyptian girls sit down on the bench behind me. As I continued to read my book, one of them said “Hello”. I turned and smiled and said hello back, figuring they just wanted to practice their English. There were three: two women in their late teens or early twenties, and a young girl of about 8. The woman saying hello to me happened to be very attractive.

I went back to reading my book. The same woman again said “Hello”, but this time added “My name is” and told me her name (which I can’t remember). I smiled and told her who I was. Every time I said anything to them, they seemed to look somewhat baffled at what I was saying as they tried to digest its meaning. Their English skills were obviously very limited.

I returned to reading my book when the same woman blurted out “I love you.” I love you? I mean, what do you say? Thinking she was joking, I turned and said “But you don’t even know me!” She looked very concerned that she couldn’t understand what I had said. She looked to the other woman for help in understanding me. I continued to try and talk with all three of these girls, but they just couldn’t understand what I was saying. The only one smiling was the little girl. I went back to my book. The other woman never really said anything but “hello” to me. She seemed to be there to support her friend.

Again this woman said even more forcefully “I love you!” and again, I could only nervously giggle. Every time I laughed, the little girl would giggle — but the woman looked more and more desperate and more and more forcefully said “I love you” again and again as she stared straight into my eyes. It was as though she was trying and put some voodoo on me, getting more and more frustrated it wasn’t working. All the English these girls seemed to know was “Hello”, “My name is”, and “I love you”. I couldn’t ask them to explain because they couldn’t understand a word I was saying.

Throughout this whole ordeal, older Arab men would occasionally walk past my bench and bark something at her in Arabic. She would usually sass something back to them in Arabic. Although most people seemed to be Muslim in the area, there were Catholic schools in town, and it was very possible she was Christian and not subject to Muslim customs — but I got the impression she may have been on a mission to be rescued from Egypt.

Perhaps she was placed into an arranged marriage she wanted no part of. Perhaps she was about to reach a point in her life where she would have been expected to start wearing traditional Muslim garb, like a head covering. Perhaps she just wanted to leave that part of the world. I will never know. And she obviously had no grasp of the complexities of moving to another part of the world. It’s not like I could have just taken her along with me.

Eventually a young man, perhaps a cousin, dropped by to talk with her after observing or hearing about what was going on. Soon he was joined by an older man, perhaps an uncle. They were both very polite to me and seemed to know a bit more English than the girls, but they also seemed to be quite concerned with her behavior and seemed to be lecturing her in Arabic.

In the end, I had to leave to catch my train. I shook each of their hands and said goodbye to them and headed off on my journey to Cairo. I cringed as I walked away, thinking that might have been offensive to them. The little girl seemed obviously off the hook because of her age, but I was quite concerned for the welfare of the other two women. Especially the one who repeatedly said she loved me. I just hope nothing bad happened to them afterwards. Such behavior in that part of the world is unheard of. I’m sure she was taking a big risk even talking to me.

Aswan, Egypt

Aswan, the end of the line

Joel

I’ve now hopped on the train once again to make my way about 4/5 of the way through Egypt to the Sudanese border where I spent the night in the town of Aswan. Aswan is an old trading crossroads with the rest of Africa and you can feel the presence of the rest of the continent much more strongly here. It also happens to be the end of the train line from Cairo.

I spent most of the day yesterday wandering through street markets and visiting some Nubian villages on Elephantine Island in the middle of the Nile River. There is lots of rich color and culture everywhere about. The weather has been warm, dry, and sunny all day, but a bit chilly at night. The Egyptian people seem very warm and friendly towards tourists throughout the country.

I checked out the Nubian Museum in town this morning. It is probably the nicest museum I’ve come across in Egypt. It covers the history of the Nubian people who live from here south into Sudan. The museum was established to showcase a collection of saved relics from the beginning of civilization through the Egyptian period and up through today spanning thousands of years.

The British designed and built the huge Aswan Dam just south of here in hopes of being able to control the annual Nile floods (which also used to fertilize the banks of the river for good farming) in the 1960s. The dam created Lake Nasser, the world’s largest man made lake, and flooded out many ancient ruins. The UN got a number of countries to donate money and expertise in salvaging what they could from the area and showcase it in the Nubian Museum (and probably others).

This afternoon I caught another cheap ferry across the Nile to the West Bank where a number of old tombs were built into the side of a mountain. I spent a few hours exploring the various passage ways and checking out the inside inscriptions and spectacular views back across the river.

Tonight I’m boarding the overnight train for Cairo again, for a few more days of exploring before flying off to Delhi.

Egypt, Luxor

Odd Egyptian Encounter #1: Luxor

Joel

When I first arrived in my remotely located hotel outside of Luxor, I was told they were full and the only available room would cost me extra since it was a little nicer. I was also told they offered meals in their beautiful courtyard. As there was really no other place to eat nearby, I planned to have a snoop around the area, take a nap, and return that evening for dinner. Oddly enough, the full hotel always seemed pretty dead and empty to me, and the courtyard restaurant they claimed they had never seemed too busy either. It must have been another scam, I concluded.

I came out to eat at around 6PM on my first night and found the courtyard deserted. The hotel manager was sitting around and socializing with some of the locals who stopped by for their daily chat. He was very friendly, offered me tea, and proceeded to talk with me in his fractured English. A local taxi driver, obviously friends with the manager, walked in and joined us for tea and conversation. He appeared to be a dead ringer for Libya leader Omar Khadafi, threads and all. A big guy, about my age.

I was told the kitchen wasn’t going to open until after 7PM. When the manager stepped aside for a few moments, the taxi driver said he would be happy to have me over to his place for dinner if I was hungry. Trying to be culturally sensitive to such offers (as I had to be in Fiji) and not wanting to offend, I agreed to accompany him to his house for dinner — putting some weight on the fact that he seemed to be known and trusted around the hotel. My biggest concern, as always, was in getting food poisoning. He seemed thrilled to have a guest and insisted it was all his treat. I figured it would be interesting to experience a middle-eastern meal with a local Egyptian family.

We hopped into his modern taxi van, and he told me he had to run a few errands to make the meal complete. I just waited in the van while he popped into a few neighborhood shops to get chicken, bread, and some drinks. It started to become apparent that he had no family, and that we would be eating alone together. It was getting dark when he turned down a dirt road that led to his home: a mud shack near the border of some agricultural fields. As far as I could tell, there was no one else living around the immediate area.

Needless to say, I was started to feel a bit uncomfortable and a bit vulnerable in such a remote darkened location. I wasn’t even sure how to get back to the hotel. The house was very basic, with cracked mud walls covered in paint, few decorations, and sparse furnishings. He was nice, smoked like a chimney (like all good Egyptians), and desperately tried to communicate with me using his broken English. He told me that he had learned the language from conversing with tourists at the hotel over the years. He seemed thrilled to finally have a visitor at his house and retreated to his kitchen to whip up a meal for us.

He brought out a simple spread of barbecued chicken, a vegetable soup, and flat bread. We would try to talk about things, but it wasn’t always easy to understand what he was trying to say. After eating, he seemed eager to sit down next to me on my side of the table. He told me he wanted to hold my hand while we talked.

Now as odd as that may sound, it is actually quite common to see Egyptian men holding hands and walking arm in arm in Cairo. Nothing is meant of it, but I still didn’t like the idea. Some of the conversation we had also had me a bit concerned. He went on about how he hated women, and didn’t believe men and women should be friends. He told me he was divorced and his wife had moved to Cairo with the kids. He seemed quite bitter towards her. He also mentioned something about having met some married men once. It was hard to decipher what he was saying with his poor English.

My alarm bells were starting to go off, and I began making excuses about how tired I was from not being able to sleep on the overnight train from Cairo the previous night and how I really needed to get back to my hotel room for a good night’s sleep (even though it was only about 7:30PM). He suggested giving me a massage to help me relax. I started insisting that I really needed to get back to my hotel, trying to be nice, but also quite adamant about getting out of there.

He finally complied with my wishes and took me home, but not before insisting on arranging to meet me the next day. Still wanting to be polite, I agreed to allow him to ferry me around the local sites in his taxi. I was very relieved to get out of there, and vowed (to myself) never to return.

After I returned to my hotel room, I quickly paged through my Lonely Planet Guide to dig up the section on homosexuality to see what local customs I should be aware of. While it pointed out that holding hands and walking arm in arm was nothing but a male bonding experience in Egypt, homosexuality was taboo in their culture. However, Egyptians men didn’t consider themselves homosexual if they played the male role in such a same-sex relationship. It is only the passive partner that is considered to be gay. Because of this, it is not unusual for Egyptian men to hit on male tourists. They are safer to approach than members of their own society.

I was never really certain whether this guy was hustling me for romance or hustling me for taxi service, but for the rest of the time I spent in Luxor, I had a very difficult time getting rid of him. He was constantly trying to get me back to his home, and I was constantly making excuses about not going there. He was taxiing me around, as he was doing for other hotel guests, but he was also refusing to charge me any money. “You pay me later”, he would always say — forcing me to arrange another time to meet with him for another taxi ride.

At one point he failed to meet me at an arranged time to transport me to my next chosen tourist attraction. After being twenty minutes overdue, I thought for a moment I was finally free of him and jumped into another taxi. On the way back to the hotel, he managed to spot me in this other cab. He whipped his taxi around, flagged the other taxi driver down, and got into a huge argument in Arabic with him over me — demanding that I was his customer and that he be allowed to transport me the rest of my journey. He was quite upset. It was all very unnerving.

The unfortunate thing about this odd encounter is that it made me feel uncomfortable enough to leave Luxor a bit earlier than I had wanted. I could have easily spent another day in the area touring the fascinating ancient ruins. I finally told him that I was going to go to Aswan, a town further south. I had to assure him I would return a few days later even though I had already booked my train ticket straight back to Cairo from Aswan with no intention of stopping back in Luxor again. This seemed to be the only way I could make a easy break free of him.

When he drove me to the train station on my last day, I pulled him out a generous payment that was more than enough to cover all his taxi service and the meal he fed me. He seemed very pleased and quickly tucked that cash into his wallet without any hesitation and with no suggestion of giving me back any change.

The experience left me wondering… he was probably one of the world’s greatest hustlers — but I will never quite be sure what exactly he was hustling me for!

Egypt, Luxor

The tranquil life along the Nile

Joel

After a long (and mostly sleepless) overnight train ride from Cairo to Luxor (aka Thebes), I hopped into a taxi and made my way to a nice quiet hotel on the west bank of the Nile River. The hotel was right in the middle of an area full of aincient Egyptian ruins and tombs and farm fields still in use today. Originally built by archeologist in the 1920’s, the hotel later became an artists’ retreat. Most people living around this very quiet area are still riding donkeys and working by hand in the fields.

The location was perfect because it was within walking distance of a number of famous temples and tombs. And it was so nice to breath clean desert air again after all the smoking I was forced to do in Cairo. It was really nice to be able to easily walk to Medinat Habu (an old temple built by Ramses III, Hatshepsut, and Tuthmosis III — each adding their own bits) and places like then Valley of the Queens (where Nefertari, Amunherkhepshef, and Khaemwaset were entombed). It was also close by the Ramesseum and the Valley of the Kings (where lots of the Ramses, Tutankhamun, and Tuthmosis III and others were entombed).

It was really amazing to be able to walk around these old, largely reconstructed temples and through these excavated tombs to see the designs and think about what it might have been like those thousands of years ago. Many of the temples were reconstructed from ruins and excavations and most still had huge yards full of pieces that they hadn’t figured out how to put back together again.

Some temples showed signs of ancient vandalism where one king would have the face of a predecessor chiseled out everywhere it appeared throughout a temple. Many of the tombs were very well preserved with bright colors still in existence among the hieroglyphs used. It was also interesting to try to make out the message they were trying to make with their pictures and symbols. The most amazing temple I toured was the massive Temples of Karnak, which ran about 1 mile by 1/2 mile in size, just north of Luxor.

Cairo, Egypt

Pyramid Schemes

Joel

I spent my second afternoon hiking around the Great Pyramids of Giza, just outside of Cairo. I decided to take the interesting route and mix with the locals by hopping on the Cairo subway to Giza, followed by public van transfer (which were for locals, not tourists). The van would pick up any passenger they could fit inside for 1 Egyptian Pound (about US$0.15) and drop them anywhere over a 10km stretch to the base of the pyramids. Everytime the van emptied out, the driver would desperately try to woo new customers. By the end of our jaunt we were riding down dirt lanes and competing with donkeys pulling carts. The locals were very friendly to me throughout the journey. I decided it was fun enough to return to my hostel the same way.

The Pyramids themselves were impressive, but hard to appreciate with all the touts trying to get every last cent out of your pocket. They were clearly on the edge of the desert with sand blowing in to dry out your eyes and mouth. Like the Egyptian Museum, they produce the artifacts, but offer very little additional information.

The hustlers at the Pyramids were much worse than the ones I encountered in Cairo yesterday. I got really upset at one who pretended to work for the administrators of the Pyramids. He asked to see my ticket (as though he were some sort of official), and then directed me into some tombs with a guide. Of course, I knew they were up to something and vowed (to myself) not to fork over any baksheesh (tip). The guide to brought me deep into the tomb was a bit less pushy, so I was about to get out without any problem, but when I abruptly turned away from the “official” and head off on my own he started yelling about his tip. I just kept walking. I later saw tourist police chasing after these guys at every chance, but there just didn’t happen to be any police in the area at the time.

I’ve booked a sleeper cabin on an overnight train along the Nile River to Luxor tomorrow. It’s supposed to be quite the experience, but we’ll see how touristy it is down there. The manager of my hostel is already trying to sell me on reservations for his hotels in Luxor, but I thought I’d better check them out first.

Cairo, Egypt

Hustle City

Joel

After a long day (or two) of travel from Philadelphia to London to Cairo on New Year’s Eve, I was pleased to finally touch down in this very smoggy city just a couple of minutes into 2005. They say breathing the air in Cairo is as bad as smoking four packs of cigarettes a day.

The flight over southern Europe was pretty cool to do on the big party night, with Athens, Greece lit up in spectacular fashion. I was greatly relived find that the reservations I thought I had made were actually still being held for me at 1AM in a nice clean hostel right on a busy square in the center of Cairo. I felt the strong presence of the Middle East from the moment I landed — probably due to the arabic writings and the fine desert silt that seemingly permeated its way into everything I came in contact with. The drivers are the craziest I’ve ever come across with no regard for traffic lights or even cops trying to direct traffic.

I spent my first afternoon at the Egyptian Museum (just a few blocks away from my hostel), where I got to scrutinize all of King Tut’s relics. I also saw lots of famous mummies and endless other artifacts. The museum isn’t really very well presented. There is hardly any information on what you’re looking at available. Just the odd type written note taped inside a glass case.

One of the coolest rooms contained a series of miniature models found in various tombs depicting everyday life thousands of years ago. There were scenes of things like butcher shops that really didn’t look much different from what you’d find in the Third world today. It’s one thing to do an archeological dig and come up with theories about how life was, but it’s another to find actual models available. It was pretty amazing.

I’ve read lots of warnings about touts (hustlers) surrounding the tourist areas here, lying through their teeth about anything — in hopes of getting you into their trinket shops. They always start out very nice and walk along side of you on the street, striking up a casual conversation. It all sounds innocent enough, and you want to be nice to those who are nice to you — but the intermittant conversation always seems to start accelerating until you’re being given the hard sell on something. One guy outside the museum actually had me going for about a minute, pointing me to the wrong end of the museum (as the entrance) and telling me it was closed for prayers for an hour. He told me he worked in the museum on the second floor and sounded somewhat genuine. Of course, the second he tried to direct me across the street to a trinket store I knew he was working for someone. He was not pleased when I finally caught on to him and turned tail back to the main entrance of the museum!