An Egyptian
Christmas
By
Randall D.
Ball
Our
Christmas holiday began, as it often does, on the “Freedom Flight”—one of those
first flights out as soon as school is over.
This time, Saturday, 22 December, we flew through Jeddah on Saudi
Airlines to Cairo, Egypt. Jeddah was not
a great place for an extended layover, however; it’s a bad terminal: overcrowded, filthy, small. And we would spend five hours there on the
way back as well. Unfortunately, we
missed our connection and had to spend an extra three hours at that
airport. Upon our late arrival in Cairo,
our cab driver had a tough time trying to find our “hotel,” which was just a
small apartment in a residential neighborhood in the Maadi District of the city. What should’ve taken 45 minutes took about
70.
Sunday
morning, we were up and searching the hood for food and caffeine. Just around the corner from our digs (digs,
get it? Cairo, archaeology, digs?), we
found a little stand selling juice, Coke, and chips—OR we’ll go ahead and call
it breakfast. Our tour guide for the day
(with the easy-to-remember name Mohammed) also had difficulty finding
us, but once he did, we were off to Giza to the Pyramids and the Sphinx. Anastasia the budding archaeologist was keen
to see the Pyramids, while Talula the cat lady was excited to gaze upon the
Sphinx, which is smaller than one may imagine, but Talula’s primary
complaint: “I want to see a real
one.” Good luck with that.
After
a nice lunch (the usual: mixed grill,
mezze, bread) at a rooftop restaurant with a view of the Pyramids, we then
visited a papyrus “factory” or “museum” (a shop) before heading for
Memphis. No Graceland at this one,
though. We saw the Pyramids of Dahshur
and from a distance the Bent Pyramid—bent because it’s all wonky. It’s an experiment gone awry, with an angle
that didn’t quite work and had to be adjusted, giving it the bent nature of its
namesake. Also, Anastasia discovered a
new tomb—it turned out to be a sewer access point, however. Our tour ended for the day at a comfortable
hotel out by the airport.
The
following day, our second guide in two days met us at the hotel and took us to
the Egyptian Museum. The girls were
fascinated by the mummy exhibits, especially the one of a child and a queen
with her baboon. Mummified Baboons: band name?
We then ventured into Coptic Cairo to visit a few churches, including
the Church of St. Sergius (built over a cave where the holy family spent a few
months on their visit to Egypt over 200 years ago). We also saw the Ben Ezra Synagogue and the
Hanging Church, hanging because it’s built over an old Roman watergate.
Another
lunch of mixed grill and mezze, and then we visited Khan el Khalili Bazaar, a
colorful and historic area of old Cairo with all sorts of shops where the
vendors try to part you with your hard-earned cash. Some of the common lines you hear:
“Hello,
my friend...”
“Where
are you from?”
“No
charge to look...free to come in, just browse...”
“Only
one dollar...or five pounds” (odd since five Egyptian pounds is about 28
cents).
But
my favorite lines: “Are you Rambo?” one
vendor asked me. Clever—get a laugh, put
the person off guard, etc. The other
line, which I overheard one vendor call out to a tourist: “How can I take your money today?” Funny stuff.
We had
a fancy dinner back at the hotel, at their Italian restaurant, a good way to
spend Christmas Eve. We had some seafood
and pasta while a strolling musician played the guitar.
We
were up early for a short flight south to Upper Egypt (upper because it’s at a
higher elevation—thus Lower Egypt is north of Upper Egypt). We landed in Aswan, where we met our third
tour guide in as many days, Kero, who would be with us for the next several
days, unfortunately. Problems with Kero:
1.
The first thing we noticed about him was his
dependence on his notes. He read
from all his information on the first day as we rode in the van.
2.
Which leads us to that
information: He talked way too
much. At each tourist site or point of
interest, he could go on and on about a series of names and historical events,
overloading us even after we would tell him, “Enough.”
3.
He surprised us when we got to the
cruise ship. The cruise wouldn’t depart
for another 48 hours; we suddenly had a lot of time on our hands.
4.
He would assume things that you
shouldn’t: The best example would be at
the Valley of the Kings, where he just assumed we didn’t wish to pay the extra
$15.00 camera fee and we ended up not getting photographs inside the tombs.
5.
Did I mention he was a walking
Wikipedia of information at each site?
Seriously, the dude could not stop talking.
But we had some laughable
moments too (at his expense). In Aswan,
he pointed out a gas station: “There’s a
gas station on the left.” Christine and
I just glanced at each other, both thinking, “Huh?”
Two days later, in another
town up the river: “Over there is a
bakery...for bread.”
Oh, that kind of
bakery.
“On
the right is a cemetery. It’s where they
bury their dead.”
Oh,
so that kind of cemetery. Good to
know.
Two
days later: “There’s a gas station on
the left...for the cars. And the
trucks.”
So
the rest of the trip, Christine and I would point out random places to each
other or define things unnecessarily:
“On
the right is a pharmacy.”
“Look
at that book—the one with words that you read.”
“I
see a restaurant—where people go to eat food.”
“There’s
a shoe shop. They sell shoes.”
Back
to that first day in Aswan: We visited
the Upper Dam, the old Aswan Dam, the Unfinished Obelisk, and a perfume
“factory” (another shop). We took a
local felucca boat to Agilkia Island, where we spent about 90 minutes at the
Temple of Philae. We enjoyed 20 minutes
of it; the remaining 70 minutes was Kero talking. But it was an island, and it was Christmas
Day. So technically, we spent yet
another Christmas on an island—our eighth in a row. It almost counts.
Our
boat, the MS Voyager, was decent, though.
The crew were very friendly, and there was a sun deck (with a pool, but
too cold), a buffet restaurant for all our meals, a bar/lounge area that was
good for playing Uno with the girls. So
after our morning tour of Aswan and Agilkia Island on Christmas Day, we spent
the next day just relaxing on the boat...the boat that didn’t move for the
first 48 hours that we were on it.
Thursday
afternoon, however, the excitement had built up...and we were finally moving! Once we started cruising the Nile, the view
became more interesting as we passed farms and small villages, with the desert
in the background as a clear contrast to the green around the Nile. We had afternoon tea on the sun deck, like
civilized people, and that evening, we visited Kom Ombo Temple, getting a
unique night-time perspective of a temple.
We also saw a small museum dedicated to mummified crocodiles, which left
an impression on the girls.
Early
the next morning, before breakfast or even coffee, we sailed to Edfu to see the
Temple of Horus, taking a horse-and-buggy to get there and back from the
ship. Fortunately, we were back at the
ship and enjoying our meal by 8:00 am.
That afternoon, we crossed Esna Dam, going through a lock and dropping
at least seven meters. Shortly
afterward, our guide Kero did something right:
He arranged a meeting with the ship captain on the bridge, where
Anastasia and Talula both got to honk the ship’s horn. He didn’t offer to let me steer (although I
do have my boating license), but he did invite us to tea. The view from the bridge was excellent, and
it did create a pleasant, lasting memory.
Also
Friday afternoon, two guys in a small rowboat appeared, tied up to our cruise
ship, and started selling carpets from their little boat. If a person were interested, they’d launch
the carpet straight up onto the top deck of the ship, five levels up. I was hoping someone would buy because I
wanted to see how they’d collect money, but no one did.
Saturday
morning after breakfast, docked in Luxor, we took a felucca across the Nile and
then boarded a van for the Colossi of Memnon, the Valley of the Kings, an
alabaster “factory” (yes, a shop), tasty lunch overlooking the Nile, Luxor
Temple, and the huge, sprawling Karnak Temple.
Then we returned to our cruise ship for two hours to await our transfer
to the airport. It was a long day, but
it wasn’t quite over. Our flight from
Luxor to Cairo was delayed about 45 minutes, and when we finally landed in
Cairo 30 minutes after midnight, our ride to the hotel was nowhere to be
seen. After a series of chaotic phone
calls, he arrived, and then our hotel was changed. Not sure if the hotel gave our room away to
someone else or what, but the replacement hotel, even closer to the airport,
clearly wasn’t ready for us. The
housekeeper was desperately trying to clean the room and make the beds, while
we waited, exhausted zombies at this point, in the hallway. He even forgot the towels and soap. But by 2:00 am we were in...and we crashed.
The
next morning was a slow start, and we lingered over breakfast while trying to
get coffee that wasn’t just hot water with a single bean’s worth of java. Then we transferred from the airport hotel to
one right downtown, near Tahrir Square and the Egyptian Museum in an older
building at a fairly busy intersection.
The room advertised a city view (we overlooked that busy intersection),
and the bathroom had a leak in the ceiling, so the bathroom floor was wet. Christine and I just shrugged it off; we had
seen worse. We took an afternoon stroll
that ultimately led to a falafel-shawarma place, where we gorged on shawarma
and grilled chicken. It was nice to be
on our own after a week of tour guides, to just be spontaneous.
After
a lazy Monday morning, New Year’s Eve, we finally walked to Tahrir Square and
then across the Nile River to Nadi al-Qahjra Gardens and a pedestrian corniche,
where we ate chicken outside by the river while men with snakes walked around
trying to get money for photographs.
When we returned to our little hotel, the front desk clerk asked us why
we didn’t report the bathroom leak. His
housekeeper had informed him. We said we
thought it was normal, and he was horrified.
“I’ll have workers here in 30 minutes,” he promised. Apparently, we’re just a little too
accustomed to staying in crappy hotels.
Tuesday
morning, while I was ordering breakfast at our hotel, the same front desk clerk
asked me if it had stopped raining last night.
He responded to my confused look by saying, “You know, in the
bathroom.” I laughed and nodded. “Yes, it stopped raining.”
We
had another lazy morning. Between the
rough night (New Year’s Eve celebrations outside on the street lasted way into
the night while we tried to sleep) and us just being worn out, it was reason
enough. Anastasia and I went out for
lunch at a historic, 110-year-old, cafe nearby (Cafe Riche), where two of the
waiters were probably as old as that building itself. Then we went for a walk through the busy city
streets while Talula and Christine relaxed back at the hotel. Later, we all walked a few blocks and crossed
some crazy Cairo streets to dine at The Birdcage, a Thai restaurant at the
Intercontinental Hotel right on the Nile (the girls also had ice cream in the
downstairs lobby). Stepping out of the
hotel, we were treated to a beautiful sunset on the river toward Giza.
Wednesday
was our last day in Cairo. The previous
night, Anastasia and I had slipped into a bakery (that’s a place where they
bake bread; source: Kero the Wiki-guide) downstairs and picked up some pastries
to complement our breakfast. The two of
us also spent time wandering the streets—she enjoyed soaking up the atmosphere
of the busy city streets at night. After
breakfast, we walked Christine to the Egyptian Museum so she could explore sans guide for a few hours. The girls and I took our Uno card game to
Cafe Riche, where we had Turkish coffee, hot tea, and Pepsi (I’ll let you
figure who had what). Early afternoon,
we met Christine back at the Intercontinental Hotel, where we ate at Sabaya
Lebanese restaurant, right next to The Birdcage. This time, we didn’t see the guy we had seen
on the previous two days, the one who would claim a street was closed just so
he could get you into his shop. There
are a lot of such nefarious attempts to lure tourists in. Even asking for directions usually leads to
“Come into my shop” or “Just let me give you my business card” (which,
conveniently for them, is never on their person; it’s “just in their
shop...only take a second”). I started
turning the tables on them:
“Hello,
my friend. Welcome back,” goes the
common line, even if they’ve never seen you before. “Where are you from you have a lovely family
you look Egyptian I give you good deal please come look at my souvenirs I give
good price do you want _____?”
So I
responded, “No, I take you on tour of Cairo.” The guy blinks. “You give me money, and I take you
on tour. I give you good price. I make a good deal just for you.”
The
tout laughs and we’re done. It’s a bit
like when someone in Pakistan wants my photograph. I say, “500 Rupees” (about five
dollars). It throws them off and
essentially rejects them but with a sense of humor. That’s one good tip, whether in the
classroom, on the road, or just in life:
Use that funny bone. Have some
fun. Keep laughing.
