The auto correct speller ruins my writing. I just noticed that when I correct some things, the system sometimes auto-corrects my corrections back to what I do not want to write. SORRY, dear readers. Those jarringly weird words in my posts are usually due to auto-correct.
Chris
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Edfu Temple and Kom Ombo
(If this post is new to you, so is the next one below it. I got sick and took a day off the Internet.)
Woke up coughing and it hurt. Damn. But I am not going down. This mornings agenda is Edfu Temple. Imagine a HUGE maze,with walls20 meters high (my guess) COVERED in hieroglyphics. What is sad to see, is that much of its defaced—chipped at by Christian monks who settled in the temples, detoured the idols and burned their wood, covering the walls in soot. Once civilizations disrespect for another's is painful to hear about.
The photos below are of Edfu Temple.
Then back to the boat for a 10:30 departure, again via convoy. This pace is perfect for the sick guy. I was able to rest before lunch at 1:00 (on deck today, which as fun). Then more resting on a deck chair and watching the sites go by until we dock at Kom Ombo. At Kom Ombo, we visit the Ptolemaic Temple of Kom Ombo at sunset. You cannot imagine greater magnificence. It is a special time of at, dusk, and to be in a temple full of art, in excellent condition, across the quay from where we are docked (along with, perhaps, another fifteen boats that are also fractionally full).
No tears. Am I jaded already; over exposed to Egyptian artifacts and design in the me way that you can see too much in one go when you visit the Louvre or The Met or the Ufizzi. But here is more to come, and in spite of our perception of the pyramids or the Sphinx as the iconic Egyptian monument, for everyone here it is Abu Simble. I am repeatedly told so, and I am flying to see the two sculptures on Friday.
There are things I could tell your that I have learned about all these sites, but have chosen not to. you can use Google to search any name I mention and learn more than I can write here. And I find I am not interested in history—the facts and the names of it. I'm not interested in dynasties, wars and politics. I like art and design and craft. Perhaps it is my mortal awareness that has me reacting deeply to the makers of he art— all of them including the laborers and craftsmen. It is human triumphant, celebratory achievement that is so overwhelming, seen so magnificently in our temples and cathedrals—my favorite things.
The photos below are of Kom Ombo.
The tourist professionals here operate with a surgical dispassion. They relate to me professionally. I am probably, English, Emco client, polite, quiet, tidy, a reader. Or maybe I'm voyage #X, sucker #Y, but when these people say something to me, I respond to a person. I'm not detached. I think, "Oh, this person is interested in me." I get flattered by their professional Internet. You could say I take their tactic personally. I have to learn to not do this, but it is hard we en you are kind of alone all the time.
I've come to think of Osama as a mosquito—he buzzes away about so many names of gods, people, dates and figures that not a thing sticks. It comes out rote. Im j use too meek or p olive or Canadian to say, "Osama, would you just shut up and let me look and think and consider...." He is doing what he has been trained to do, and they all have the same technique, which is hilarious, because I hear other guides doing as Osama does which is to talk a bit and end with a statement severed with passion. Then a question his posed, related to the last statement: "And why are these pillars topped this way only here and nowhere else in Egypt?" and then he answers the question. Without even giving you time to answer or guess.
I forgot to post this earlier. This is—was—the defense ministry. I saw it and Tahrir Square briefly as I left Cairo a few days ago.
Woke up coughing and it hurt. Damn. But I am not going down. This mornings agenda is Edfu Temple. Imagine a HUGE maze,with walls20 meters high (my guess) COVERED in hieroglyphics. What is sad to see, is that much of its defaced—chipped at by Christian monks who settled in the temples, detoured the idols and burned their wood, covering the walls in soot. Once civilizations disrespect for another's is painful to hear about.
The photos below are of Edfu Temple.
Then back to the boat for a 10:30 departure, again via convoy. This pace is perfect for the sick guy. I was able to rest before lunch at 1:00 (on deck today, which as fun). Then more resting on a deck chair and watching the sites go by until we dock at Kom Ombo. At Kom Ombo, we visit the Ptolemaic Temple of Kom Ombo at sunset. You cannot imagine greater magnificence. It is a special time of at, dusk, and to be in a temple full of art, in excellent condition, across the quay from where we are docked (along with, perhaps, another fifteen boats that are also fractionally full).
No tears. Am I jaded already; over exposed to Egyptian artifacts and design in the me way that you can see too much in one go when you visit the Louvre or The Met or the Ufizzi. But here is more to come, and in spite of our perception of the pyramids or the Sphinx as the iconic Egyptian monument, for everyone here it is Abu Simble. I am repeatedly told so, and I am flying to see the two sculptures on Friday.
There are things I could tell your that I have learned about all these sites, but have chosen not to. you can use Google to search any name I mention and learn more than I can write here. And I find I am not interested in history—the facts and the names of it. I'm not interested in dynasties, wars and politics. I like art and design and craft. Perhaps it is my mortal awareness that has me reacting deeply to the makers of he art— all of them including the laborers and craftsmen. It is human triumphant, celebratory achievement that is so overwhelming, seen so magnificently in our temples and cathedrals—my favorite things.
The photos below are of Kom Ombo.
The tourist professionals here operate with a surgical dispassion. They relate to me professionally. I am probably, English, Emco client, polite, quiet, tidy, a reader. Or maybe I'm voyage #X, sucker #Y, but when these people say something to me, I respond to a person. I'm not detached. I think, "Oh, this person is interested in me." I get flattered by their professional Internet. You could say I take their tactic personally. I have to learn to not do this, but it is hard we en you are kind of alone all the time.
I've come to think of Osama as a mosquito—he buzzes away about so many names of gods, people, dates and figures that not a thing sticks. It comes out rote. Im j use too meek or p olive or Canadian to say, "Osama, would you just shut up and let me look and think and consider...." He is doing what he has been trained to do, and they all have the same technique, which is hilarious, because I hear other guides doing as Osama does which is to talk a bit and end with a statement severed with passion. Then a question his posed, related to the last statement: "And why are these pillars topped this way only here and nowhere else in Egypt?" and then he answers the question. Without even giving you time to answer or guess.
I forgot to post this earlier. This is—was—the defense ministry. I saw it and Tahrir Square briefly as I left Cairo a few days ago.
Tuesday, Luxor, East Bank
Well another spectacular day! To the Valley of the Kings, the Valley of the Queens, the Temple of Hatshepsut and the Singing Pharos. We started at 7:00 am to beat the heat. One can't take photos in the two Valleys because of the delicacy of the pigment and the refusal of tourists to obey "no photography" signs (you know about this, right, Bruce!).
My head exploded in the tombs because, as usual, I was overwhelmed and tears flowed and it made me wonder why. I think it is because it is so incredibly old, beautiful and famous. Maybe what happens to me is like when some people encounter movies stars. It's all in our head. But I also think about the workers who do the work, the incredible accuracy of the hieroglyphics and the fact that the pigment has lasted so long.
The valleys are desolate and on the west bank of the river where days begin as will they be reborn. And you go down into them and it gets hot. The majesty and scale of the work is impressive beyond description and the combination of colour and relief is so richly evocative of a time one can only imagine.
Photos below from Temple of Hatshepsut.
The only downside of the day was coughing through the morning all the time and then, when I got up to get out of the truck, I almost fainted from getting up too soon. I am clearly sick with some respiratory bug, but the timing couldn't be better. If it was going to happen, best whilst on this boat where I can relax in splendor, sleep well and have privacy.
This is what I would call "industrial tourism." We are a convoy of at least eleven ships. I have counted that many at once, but the curves in the river prevent me from owing the total number. We will be going through the locks two at a time.
We got back at about 11:00. Lunch at 1:00. Rest in the afternoon, but I did go up on the deck to wheeze at the sunset. Then we went into the locks. That was rather interesting because row boats with touts selling fabrics loop their ropes around the fleets of the ship and ride alongside screaming for us to buy their wares. It went on for an hour and I wound up turning on the TV, and fairly loud, to drown out their relentless shouting.
But the locks were fun and that was my first time going through some. The ship put on a rather weak tea at 4:00 and cocktail hour at 7:30 before dinner.
Photos below from The "Singing Pharos."
Much later.... Fast notes:
1. There are very large black and grey crows here. BIG, live large ravens. They are agile and far less numerous than at home.
2. I am the only single person on the boat.
3. I am transported every day by our driver and Osama. We travel in a van with nice comfortable seats for 11.
4. Egyptian male style is fabulous. The long robes are fit exactly to the height of their owner. They tend to dark solid colors, the the scarves they wear, around their head,, on their head, around heir necks, all up or sometimes trailing down, is very stylish. The women wear black—sometimes beautifully varied in texture and layered—but it is the men who are the peacocks.
5. The landscape is gloriously coloured with bougainvillea, various trees blooming in striking yellows and reds and oleander.
6. I should point out that our enter age of eleven plus boats is matched by an equal number coming downriver. The schedules of all the boats on the river, regardless of ownership, are synchronized.
My head exploded in the tombs because, as usual, I was overwhelmed and tears flowed and it made me wonder why. I think it is because it is so incredibly old, beautiful and famous. Maybe what happens to me is like when some people encounter movies stars. It's all in our head. But I also think about the workers who do the work, the incredible accuracy of the hieroglyphics and the fact that the pigment has lasted so long.
The valleys are desolate and on the west bank of the river where days begin as will they be reborn. And you go down into them and it gets hot. The majesty and scale of the work is impressive beyond description and the combination of colour and relief is so richly evocative of a time one can only imagine.
Photos below from Temple of Hatshepsut.
The only downside of the day was coughing through the morning all the time and then, when I got up to get out of the truck, I almost fainted from getting up too soon. I am clearly sick with some respiratory bug, but the timing couldn't be better. If it was going to happen, best whilst on this boat where I can relax in splendor, sleep well and have privacy.
This is what I would call "industrial tourism." We are a convoy of at least eleven ships. I have counted that many at once, but the curves in the river prevent me from owing the total number. We will be going through the locks two at a time.
We got back at about 11:00. Lunch at 1:00. Rest in the afternoon, but I did go up on the deck to wheeze at the sunset. Then we went into the locks. That was rather interesting because row boats with touts selling fabrics loop their ropes around the fleets of the ship and ride alongside screaming for us to buy their wares. It went on for an hour and I wound up turning on the TV, and fairly loud, to drown out their relentless shouting.
But the locks were fun and that was my first time going through some. The ship put on a rather weak tea at 4:00 and cocktail hour at 7:30 before dinner.
Photos below from The "Singing Pharos."
Much later.... Fast notes:
1. There are very large black and grey crows here. BIG, live large ravens. They are agile and far less numerous than at home.
2. I am the only single person on the boat.
3. I am transported every day by our driver and Osama. We travel in a van with nice comfortable seats for 11.
4. Egyptian male style is fabulous. The long robes are fit exactly to the height of their owner. They tend to dark solid colors, the the scarves they wear, around their head,, on their head, around heir necks, all up or sometimes trailing down, is very stylish. The women wear black—sometimes beautifully varied in texture and layered—but it is the men who are the peacocks.
5. The landscape is gloriously coloured with bougainvillea, various trees blooming in striking yellows and reds and oleander.
6. I should point out that our enter age of eleven plus boats is matched by an equal number coming downriver. The schedules of all the boats on the river, regardless of ownership, are synchronized.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Luxor, Day 1
It is election day in Cairo. On the way to the airport, I passed buildings with armed guards stationed around them behind barriers with slots with rifles pointing through And there were many of them. There are cops everywhere—often several per block. And the banks have chained barricades in front of them. Every bank machine I tried is broken, and all my American cash was stolen inn Marakesh, so I was counting on the machines at the airport working. Voila, money in my pocket and anxiety reduced.
I was worried because last night, reading my itinerary, I have a felling that all th e site seeing on route on the Nile is not paid for. I will find out in Luxor when I arrive and meet my guide there. I know that the cruise is paid for, but I suspect I will having to buy all the access trips to the sites along the way, so that is why I was keen to have some cash in my pocket. There will probably be cash machines on the boat or at the sites, but just to be safe, I wanted some cash now.
Driving to the airport allowed me to see some surprising things such as the sea of satellite dishes. Emanate hey are as numerous as starlings at home. Satellite dishes and air conditions and dirt—the dominant exterior decoration. And it is quite something to be sitting in the airport listening to calls for boarding for flights to Khartoum, Tripoli, Riyadh, Baghdad, Kuwait, Amman, Dubai etc.
Luxor.....
Tis being met is still amazing convenience to me, and once we are in the car, Luxor reveals itself to be lovely, and passing the temple to which I will return later, of course brought on the silent tears. Finally, to see, even in passing, the real thing, in situ, is just overwhelming. The driver says I am in for a very good trip because of the lack of tourists. He says we will have a quiet tranquil trip. I am sitting in the lounge. I am waiting to get my key to cabin 305.
Tis ship is very luxuries. There are little post-bath slippers and a nice robe, scales, a hair dryer (and you know how important that is for me), TV, water and coffee, a bath tub, nice. Beds,engraved wood interior—this ship is fully loaded.Internet is $5 for a half hour. Half of my windows open giving me fresh air and an immediate view. It is weird, it is not me to do t his, but I am stoked for this part of the trip.
Now I am in the sun on the roof. There are, only two other people here. Tere is a large wading pool and TINY deep pool and acres of upholstered lounge chairs—mostly in the shade and with the wind, it is cool. It is 17 degrees. In the sun, it is heaven. I love the solitude.
I have learned that lunch is at 1:00 and that at 2:30, Osama is coming to take me to the temple at Luxor. The couple just left; I am completely alone and loving that. Not even any staff who will likely be present most times serving stuff. I have also learned that Osama is coming with me in the cruise. Talk about overkill. So now I assume that I have paid for the sites so only a massive tip may be required instead of a lot of transportation and admission fees.
I just looked up, and maybe 500 meters away is the obelisk of Luxor Temple, and the north end of the temple itself, is maybe 150 meters from where I am sitting. It is 11:30 am, so I have an hour and a half to chill in luxury until lunch. I'll be back, acting the Temple and drying my eyes. Poor Osama has no idea he's going to have a basket case on his hands for five days.
(Above is directly cross the street from the dock.)
5:00 pm
Can you feel my bliss? To my left, is a glass wall through which I overlook the Nile at dusk. A blanket on my lap, a bath drawn and I discovered a fridge which is now stocked with diet coke. And, AND, I have just spent the afternoon at the Temples of Karnak and Luxor. Karnak is acres of what you see in one room in the Metropolitan Museum in NYC. My photos will say much more than I can with words.
Luxor is just beautiful. I am on the east bank and there is a long, lovely boardwalk along the river that I would love to use, but honestly, the touts make it so unpleasant that the bath, blanket, view, coke (and the soft fluffy terry towel robe) win. The food at lunch was abundant and fine—the squash and orange soup was really great and there was a fantastic assortment of breads.
This boat and this city and these sights could be my greatest travel experiences that I have ever had. I can touch the walls and feel the designs, and the scale, which cannot be captured in the photos, absolutely overwhelming. Whereas Greek and Roman historical sites are also overwhelming, the exoticism of Egyptian mythology and design, and their unparalleled iconic status in history, make them, for me, unimaginably powerful.
I wish I had more time, but the guide is on a schedule. His delivery is a study in disengagement. There is no eye contact. Osama is a tape recorder.
And again, the stunning lack of tourists is shocking. t lunch, I would say that the room was, perhaps, 15% full! And this is high season. I'm sorry, I can't remember what Osama said, but there are either 185 or 285 (and I think it is the latter; I just can't believe it), of these cruise ships on the Nile.
Luxor's population is about 1 million. Half work in agriculture; the other half work in tourism. It can reach 53 degrees here in summer. Tis afternoon it was 25. Today was one of the most fun days of my adult life.
I've been reading The Last Wilderness by Peter Matthiesson in an anthology of New Yorker travel writing. It was written in 1961; I thought it had been written in, perhaps, the 1930s. His epic journey is humbling and masterful writing. Reading it, makes sitting in this luxury seem obscene as a methodology of discovering a foreign culture. Chris the dilettante. But I'll say it agin—this is a FABULOUS experience! Made even better, I'm afraid, by the absence of tourists within the envelope of the tour. But on the street, there being no tourists, the touts are like flies on me and they make life, for me, intolerable.
I was worried because last night, reading my itinerary, I have a felling that all th e site seeing on route on the Nile is not paid for. I will find out in Luxor when I arrive and meet my guide there. I know that the cruise is paid for, but I suspect I will having to buy all the access trips to the sites along the way, so that is why I was keen to have some cash in my pocket. There will probably be cash machines on the boat or at the sites, but just to be safe, I wanted some cash now.
Driving to the airport allowed me to see some surprising things such as the sea of satellite dishes. Emanate hey are as numerous as starlings at home. Satellite dishes and air conditions and dirt—the dominant exterior decoration. And it is quite something to be sitting in the airport listening to calls for boarding for flights to Khartoum, Tripoli, Riyadh, Baghdad, Kuwait, Amman, Dubai etc.
Luxor.....
Tis being met is still amazing convenience to me, and once we are in the car, Luxor reveals itself to be lovely, and passing the temple to which I will return later, of course brought on the silent tears. Finally, to see, even in passing, the real thing, in situ, is just overwhelming. The driver says I am in for a very good trip because of the lack of tourists. He says we will have a quiet tranquil trip. I am sitting in the lounge. I am waiting to get my key to cabin 305.
Tis ship is very luxuries. There are little post-bath slippers and a nice robe, scales, a hair dryer (and you know how important that is for me), TV, water and coffee, a bath tub, nice. Beds,engraved wood interior—this ship is fully loaded.Internet is $5 for a half hour. Half of my windows open giving me fresh air and an immediate view. It is weird, it is not me to do t his, but I am stoked for this part of the trip.
Now I am in the sun on the roof. There are, only two other people here. Tere is a large wading pool and TINY deep pool and acres of upholstered lounge chairs—mostly in the shade and with the wind, it is cool. It is 17 degrees. In the sun, it is heaven. I love the solitude.
I have learned that lunch is at 1:00 and that at 2:30, Osama is coming to take me to the temple at Luxor. The couple just left; I am completely alone and loving that. Not even any staff who will likely be present most times serving stuff. I have also learned that Osama is coming with me in the cruise. Talk about overkill. So now I assume that I have paid for the sites so only a massive tip may be required instead of a lot of transportation and admission fees.
I just looked up, and maybe 500 meters away is the obelisk of Luxor Temple, and the north end of the temple itself, is maybe 150 meters from where I am sitting. It is 11:30 am, so I have an hour and a half to chill in luxury until lunch. I'll be back, acting the Temple and drying my eyes. Poor Osama has no idea he's going to have a basket case on his hands for five days.
(Above is directly cross the street from the dock.)
5:00 pm
Can you feel my bliss? To my left, is a glass wall through which I overlook the Nile at dusk. A blanket on my lap, a bath drawn and I discovered a fridge which is now stocked with diet coke. And, AND, I have just spent the afternoon at the Temples of Karnak and Luxor. Karnak is acres of what you see in one room in the Metropolitan Museum in NYC. My photos will say much more than I can with words.
Luxor is just beautiful. I am on the east bank and there is a long, lovely boardwalk along the river that I would love to use, but honestly, the touts make it so unpleasant that the bath, blanket, view, coke (and the soft fluffy terry towel robe) win. The food at lunch was abundant and fine—the squash and orange soup was really great and there was a fantastic assortment of breads.
This boat and this city and these sights could be my greatest travel experiences that I have ever had. I can touch the walls and feel the designs, and the scale, which cannot be captured in the photos, absolutely overwhelming. Whereas Greek and Roman historical sites are also overwhelming, the exoticism of Egyptian mythology and design, and their unparalleled iconic status in history, make them, for me, unimaginably powerful.
I wish I had more time, but the guide is on a schedule. His delivery is a study in disengagement. There is no eye contact. Osama is a tape recorder.
And again, the stunning lack of tourists is shocking. t lunch, I would say that the room was, perhaps, 15% full! And this is high season. I'm sorry, I can't remember what Osama said, but there are either 185 or 285 (and I think it is the latter; I just can't believe it), of these cruise ships on the Nile.
Luxor's population is about 1 million. Half work in agriculture; the other half work in tourism. It can reach 53 degrees here in summer. Tis afternoon it was 25. Today was one of the most fun days of my adult life.
I've been reading The Last Wilderness by Peter Matthiesson in an anthology of New Yorker travel writing. It was written in 1961; I thought it had been written in, perhaps, the 1930s. His epic journey is humbling and masterful writing. Reading it, makes sitting in this luxury seem obscene as a methodology of discovering a foreign culture. Chris the dilettante. But I'll say it agin—this is a FABULOUS experience! Made even better, I'm afraid, by the absence of tourists within the envelope of the tour. But on the street, there being no tourists, the touts are like flies on me and they make life, for me, intolerable.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
No Tourists in Cairo
Check this out... This is a huge store, well known as a good site for tourists (at is to say that the things sold are made by Egyptians and priced fairly), and given the time of day I was there, there should have been scores and scores of people there. I cant tell you how obvious the decline in tourism is.
Monday, le Cair
Well .... Here goes day one in Cairo.
When I went down at 9:00 am to meet Ahmed, he was there waiting and he introduced me to Ibrahim who was with him and who was to be my guide. We went out to the car, Amed said goodbye and Ibrahim got in the car with me and Mustapha, the driver and off we went to the Citadel of Salah Al-Din.
Poor Ibrahim. This is my first time alone with a guide. The only other time I have had a guide was during the two weeks I spent with Beth and Bruce in Rajasthan, and as soon as I realized what the set-up was, I was unhappy. I thought a driver would be picking me up, taking me somewhere, and the leaving me alone, but Ibrahim is there to stick with me. He's knowledgeable, pretty good with English but his comprehension is weak, polite and completely accommodating. I just don't like having someone I don't know with me. I feel rushed at every site and I don't care for oral narration while at sites. But hey, I paid $300 for 4 hours of tourism.
That said, this is like the worst of Calcutta in terms of the noise, dirt and chaos on the street. There are 22 million officially and Ibrahim says another 12 million "unofficial" residents. Again, that is like Calcutta. These cities have the population of our country; infrastructure in stage four crisis. Ibrahim pointed out a crowd on the side of the street that was absolutely massive and the scene was like what you see when UN aid trucks reach an area where there is no food and you see this scene of desperation-driven crowding. Well that is what I saw in two places as people were trying to buy gas for cooking in their homes in canisters. It was truly shocking to see.
Ibrahim described a catastrophic change here and talked about his feelings about Egypt. He is happy for the revolution, but the revolution has scared away all the tourists as my photos will show, and so hundreds of thousands of people are without work, sales and/or income.
I pass through security to enter my hotel. Every place we go, we go through security. We go through a security check to enter a quartier and then, once inside, we go through more security to enter a mosque. At every security check, I am identified by nationality. There are police in every block; there is a tourist police office at every site.
After the Citadel mosque, we went to the oldest part of the city. I was interested in the religious buildings, I said, so we went to two Christian churches and a synagogue.
The first Christian church is a fairly new one. It was lovely in many of its details and a service was going on when we were there. The other christian church we went to did not allow photography, but is has a crypt in its basement that I peered into where Jesus, Mary and Joseph were hidden at some point.
Now I have to admit that when I hear stuff like that, I have an "oh really" response. I just don't get faith. Tis big part of me wants to say, "And you believe this stuff?" I am not even sure of the extent of my disbelief; all religious myth mystifies me. But in that space, I was quite overcome emotionally.
The taj mahal made me cry when I first saw it. I also cried when I first saw an original van Gogh. Besides the church of the crypt, seeing the Nile also brought out my tears. Tears are the end result of all my emotions. And extreme emotion takes me there, and it moved me to be in a church where people believed the holy family hid.
The synagogue and the churches, although of other faiths, all bear only Islamic decoration and architectural features, plus Christian images in frames hung on the wall in the churches. I could not take photos of them, as I said, but I do have photos of the first, more modern, Christian church.
The Ibrahim too me to the souk. I hated it because I am not a shopper, I don't want Egyptian artifacts made in China and the lack of tourists makes me a target for every single person on the street and I am sick of it already.
For a "shit load" of more money, I could go to the park I wanted to see, but the clouds have come in and it is raining, so I am going back to the hotel. Besides, my idea of a calm time at the park did not include having two guys sitting in a car waiting for me while I take in the sites. Too bad it isn't sunny; there's a pool, bar and sun deck on the roof.
Challenges: Geez, crossing the street is brutal. I mean crazy stupid scary. The cash machine in this hotel is broken, so the staff told me to go across the street. Well, free terror, and once across, the bank machines there weren't working either. The national day of protest has hem all down, so I am hoping to get the cash I need at the airport.
Note: The Citadel Mosque is a "secondary" site. It was built in 1814. The secondary sites here are booming, compared to normal, because no one is going to the museum. What tourists do come, are all being directed to secondary sites.
When I went down at 9:00 am to meet Ahmed, he was there waiting and he introduced me to Ibrahim who was with him and who was to be my guide. We went out to the car, Amed said goodbye and Ibrahim got in the car with me and Mustapha, the driver and off we went to the Citadel of Salah Al-Din.
Poor Ibrahim. This is my first time alone with a guide. The only other time I have had a guide was during the two weeks I spent with Beth and Bruce in Rajasthan, and as soon as I realized what the set-up was, I was unhappy. I thought a driver would be picking me up, taking me somewhere, and the leaving me alone, but Ibrahim is there to stick with me. He's knowledgeable, pretty good with English but his comprehension is weak, polite and completely accommodating. I just don't like having someone I don't know with me. I feel rushed at every site and I don't care for oral narration while at sites. But hey, I paid $300 for 4 hours of tourism.
That said, this is like the worst of Calcutta in terms of the noise, dirt and chaos on the street. There are 22 million officially and Ibrahim says another 12 million "unofficial" residents. Again, that is like Calcutta. These cities have the population of our country; infrastructure in stage four crisis. Ibrahim pointed out a crowd on the side of the street that was absolutely massive and the scene was like what you see when UN aid trucks reach an area where there is no food and you see this scene of desperation-driven crowding. Well that is what I saw in two places as people were trying to buy gas for cooking in their homes in canisters. It was truly shocking to see.
Ibrahim described a catastrophic change here and talked about his feelings about Egypt. He is happy for the revolution, but the revolution has scared away all the tourists as my photos will show, and so hundreds of thousands of people are without work, sales and/or income.
I pass through security to enter my hotel. Every place we go, we go through security. We go through a security check to enter a quartier and then, once inside, we go through more security to enter a mosque. At every security check, I am identified by nationality. There are police in every block; there is a tourist police office at every site.
After the Citadel mosque, we went to the oldest part of the city. I was interested in the religious buildings, I said, so we went to two Christian churches and a synagogue.
The first Christian church is a fairly new one. It was lovely in many of its details and a service was going on when we were there. The other christian church we went to did not allow photography, but is has a crypt in its basement that I peered into where Jesus, Mary and Joseph were hidden at some point.
Now I have to admit that when I hear stuff like that, I have an "oh really" response. I just don't get faith. Tis big part of me wants to say, "And you believe this stuff?" I am not even sure of the extent of my disbelief; all religious myth mystifies me. But in that space, I was quite overcome emotionally.
The taj mahal made me cry when I first saw it. I also cried when I first saw an original van Gogh. Besides the church of the crypt, seeing the Nile also brought out my tears. Tears are the end result of all my emotions. And extreme emotion takes me there, and it moved me to be in a church where people believed the holy family hid.
The synagogue and the churches, although of other faiths, all bear only Islamic decoration and architectural features, plus Christian images in frames hung on the wall in the churches. I could not take photos of them, as I said, but I do have photos of the first, more modern, Christian church.
The Ibrahim too me to the souk. I hated it because I am not a shopper, I don't want Egyptian artifacts made in China and the lack of tourists makes me a target for every single person on the street and I am sick of it already.
For a "shit load" of more money, I could go to the park I wanted to see, but the clouds have come in and it is raining, so I am going back to the hotel. Besides, my idea of a calm time at the park did not include having two guys sitting in a car waiting for me while I take in the sites. Too bad it isn't sunny; there's a pool, bar and sun deck on the roof.
Challenges: Geez, crossing the street is brutal. I mean crazy stupid scary. The cash machine in this hotel is broken, so the staff told me to go across the street. Well, free terror, and once across, the bank machines there weren't working either. The national day of protest has hem all down, so I am hoping to get the cash I need at the airport.
Note: The Citadel Mosque is a "secondary" site. It was built in 1814. The secondary sites here are booming, compared to normal, because no one is going to the museum. What tourists do come, are all being directed to secondary sites.
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