Egypt

Egypt - July 5-12

Baksheesh, the Persian word for tip or bribe, was the thing that stood out for me most in Egypt. It was in the background of every site we visited, every interaction we had, and everything we took joy in. We came across police officers who would offer to have their picture taken with us for baksheesh and pyramid guards selling the destruction of their national treasure for less than a dollar at a time by letting tourists take pictures of aging tombs.

Not that this wasn't expected, but the extent of the baksheesh culture in Egypt tainted any positive interaction we had while we were there. On time in particular, a friendly policeman at the main train station in Cairo helped us for 25 minutes to call our hostel and then get a cab at a fair rate. Grateful after a long overnight train journey from Luxor, I went to tip him, as he was obviously due, and he declined giving us a look of disgust and disappointment. I suppose he was the one clean police officer in Egypt.

The thing I hated was that there seemed to be no rules. In Morocco, where I cut my teeth in baksheesh-ville, there was at least a clear protocol that people followed: any specific request from someone on the street costs you money. Want to know what the weather will be like tomorrow? 50 cents. Want help getting to your hotel? 1 dollar. Just saying hello and commenting on the nice weather? That's free. Egypt just felt like chaos. It seems to have no rules, no protocol to follow. So you are always on your guard, ready to defend against the forces of baksheesh.


It's Amazing Because It's True

But it is CHEAP. Even after spending a month in other parts of Africa, Tom and I were still amazed. On our final day, I set myself an Amazing Race-like goal of getting a haircut, buying a local newspaper (to pack some of the many gifts we bought there) and take-away lunch for me and Tom in less than 1 hour for under 5 dollars.

First, I stopped at a nearby barber recommended by my hostel. I waited outside while he finished his prayers on a small carpet in the corner of the shop, and he graciously welcomed me inside while I mimed what I would like done to my head. His shaky hands and rusty scissors made me worry about the possible state of my hear at the end, but he was fine and 2 dollars later I was looking quite sharp and on to the next challenge.

We had apparently stayed on the edge of the auto parts district of Cairo because as I wandered the streets all I found were shops with spare parts and broken down taxis. After miming newspaper to 8 different people (quite difficult actually, I suggest you try this one at home first), I finally got through to someone and was directed to a smiling lady who offered me an illegible copy of the Crazy Cairo Chronicle (I'm guessing) with a stern looking Nicolas Sarkozy on the front, presumably because of some recent visit to Egypt. So, for 12 cents, I was off for lunch with 25 minutes to spare.

During my auto parts maze tour, I spotted a local pizza place that looked appetizing, if a bit odd. The oven was set outside in an alley next to the shop and the "chef" would prepare the pizza before handing it to two boys who stood out in the head and cooked the pizzas. I hopefully ordered two vegetarian pizzas, and waiting about 20 minutes in confusion with a portly young Egyptian. Eventually, our pizzas finished and I pointed to the two most vegetarian looking pies when asked which I would prefer. Wrapped up in clean newspaper, like fish & chips in London, I smiled and handed over the $1.20 requested for the two pizzas.

Strolling back into the hostel, I smiled and announced my success - I'd made it back in an hour and a bit (I got a few minutes leeway for "Egyptian time") and with $1.58 left to spare.

It's How Old??

Cairo is, of course, a crazy place. The greater city has almost 18 million people who all seem to be moving about at once 24 hours a day. We arrived at 1am and our driver promptly got into a car accident. Everyone was fine since we were still in the parking lot, but when 25 people materialized and all seemed to want to take the lead in the negotiations that followed, I knew this wasn't an ordinary city.

Our hostel, the Wake Up! Cairo, was only $11 per person for our private room with en-suite bathroom. Peter, one of the young, entrepreneurial owners, had been working like many in the tourism business for a while and saw starting the hostel as a way to make his mark. His quirky humor often came on a bit strong ("Take the shower, don't let it take you!!"), but he was infinitely helpful and even brought us to his favorite sheesha cafe one night. After several glasses of tea and some serious lessons in the art of dominoes in the brightly lit alleyway that had been taken over by the cafe, we were really starting to feel the warmth of the Egyptian people.

Our first stop was the famed Egyptian museum, only steps from our hostel. Expecting to see the history and grandeur of the vast and incredible history in the country's foremost collection, what we got instead was a dimly lit, boiling hot jumble of confusing artifacts with little to no labeling. Our guidebook, the only source of information we were able to gather together, interestingly commented on how many of the "really" important works were kept by the British Museum (i.e. the Rosetta Stone), and weren't being returned despite Egypt's insistence. But looking at the state of the items in the museum, I wondered if it was actually better for Britain to just keep them. At least the security guards in London weren't offering to let you to touch it for good luck. While it was a marvel to see 5000 year old painted statues and the amazing mask and sarcophagus from King Tutankhamun's tomb, the experience of the museum was without a doubt the worst I've ever seen.

Slightly depressed after our big let down, we made our way back out in the oppressive heat of the Cairo streets to see if we could find something better. The next day we did, and it came in the form of Giza.


The pyramids are the only remaining of the 7 Ancient Wonders of the World. The magnitude and glory of the Sphynx and three enormous pyramids, aligned perfectly along their south east corners, made our jaws drop. We bought another ticket to go inside the Great Pyramid and, though there wasn't much to see but a rectangular room with an empty sarcophagus, just the idea that we were climbing INSIDE a pyramid was an absolute thrill. Our guidebook told us that Napoleon had spent a night inside one of the pyramids and was shaken to the core by the experience.

After boiling in the sun and sand all morning, Tom and I had a nice lunch at a shady cafe looking at the Sphynx and the pyramids - what we agreed must have been one of the greatest lunchtime views in the world.


That evening, we headed to the train station to catch the 10-hour overnight train to Luxor. We'd arranged the trip with Peter, and for $210 we were provided:
- two overnight train journeys
- one night in a 3-star hotel (which turned out to be the nicest place I've stayed in so far on the trip....complete with a rooftop pool & bar!)
- taxis to and from all destinations
- a private tour guide around the sites of Luxor for the afternoon of our first day and the full day following
- a "dinner cruise" upon our return to Cairo (more on this later)

By my humble estimation, it is the deal of the century. Having a private guide for the amazingly well preserved temples and tombs around Luxor made the experience massively better than the Cairo museum. Perhaps with a guide there we would be singing a different tune, I'm not sure. The pair of temples we visited on the East bank of the Nile continued to prove the ancient Egyptians love for extremely large constructions and statues (hence...colossus). The engravings on the walls of the Karnak temple were particularly interesting and sometimes entertaining. Our guide told us the story of Min, easy to spot amongst the other Gods.

During one great war, Min hid while all the other men in the city went off to fight. He happily found himself alone and happy in a city full of women and went to work, eventually impregnating most of the women in the city. When the pharaoh found out, he returned to the city and punished the Min by cutting off his arm, leg, and in particular his offending appendage. But when his pieces were buried, the land sprouted trees. Subsequently, the Egyptian army was decimated, but luckily all the women gave birth to sons, escalating this deserter to the status of the God of Fertility.


We then saw several tombs in the Valley of the Kings with elaborate wall paintings depicting all of the stuff the pharaohs thought they would need when they returned for the after-life. Our final tomb was at about 3pm and the trip was short, as the temperature inside was probably the hottest I'd ever felt (I'm guessing 120 degrees) and extremely humid from all those darn breathing tourists. But the whole place was fascinating and gave us the chance to get a feel for what the culture was like for such an ancient, but advanced civilization.


Two Left Feet

After traveling for almost a month at this point, I finally made my first big cultural mistake.

On our last night in Cairo, we thought we'd relax and enjoy ourselves with a classic tourist trap - the dinner cruise on the Nile (mentioned above as part of our package from Peter). Rather than the fun, jovial evening of a booze cruise that we expected, the three of us (Tom, me, and a girl we'd met earlier at our hostel) found ourselves in the center function room with a bunch of middle aged tourists, a mediocre buffet, and drinks 10 times the normal price. I suppose that's what you get at a tourist trap.

After dinner, they started "the show." Initially it was two bored looking guys doing a silly traditional Egyptian dance to the super cheesy band. I was sat right next to the accordion player. Next came out the big number - a marginally attractive woman doing a dance that I suppose was meant to be belly dancing. Really, all she did was shimmy a bit and get the Japanese tourists to come up with her, shake their shoulders and get their picture taken.

After 15 or 20 minutes of this, the manager, who had been sitting at our table for the whole show, gets the singer/MC guy to pull the girl who was with us onto the dance floor. A few laughs later, she sneaks back to the table unscathed - except for the video that the manager took of her dancing that he proudly showed each of us. Creepy.

Having been sat almost on the dance floor, I was the next obvious target. So, despite my objections, I was pulled on stage to have a dance with the lady. As often happens when I stand up, the dancer expressed the usual surprise that I was at least a foot taller than her. So she encourages me to crouch down to her level, which I do while attempting to still look cool (and clearly failing).

After that, I think that to be fair, she should have the chance to see what things were like at my level. So I pick her up, do a little spin, and set her back down again gently. All to the cheers of the Japanese tourists. Or so I thought. If you've been to this type of show in a Muslim country before, you probably know what comes next.

From the look on her face, I first thought I'd ripped her costume, but when the band completely stopped and everyone on the floor took one large step back from me, I realized that I had done something much worse.

Sitting back with my friends, the manager informs me that touching the lady is not allowed (other than her hands apparently). My mistake (obvious in retrospect, of course) turned a switch on the mood of the whole room from boisterous to sedate. The dance scurried off backstage - to perform some cleansing ritual Tom jokingly tells me, and the whirling dervish man - the one with the colorful spinning skirt - comes on.

I chatted a bit more with the manager, apologizing profusely and making a show of shaking his hand so the other guests could see he had forgiven me. Shortly after, I slipped out of the main room to take a breather on the top deck of the boat and take in the sights along the Nile. I see the manager again on the way up and he tells me the bounce was pretty upset, but he was able to "calm him down" by explaining that in my culture that type of behavior is acceptable. Probably not true, but it helped my cause and I wasn't going to correct him. When I joked that I was happy they didn't decide to throw me in the Nile, he shot me a look that made me think it was discussed.

Later, I received a bit more comfort when he invited us back in for the dancer's second act, saying, "She will change outfit. It's VERY nice, you will love it!" And soon after we had a laugh when the beaming ship's photographer came over to us with an 8 by 10 inch photo of me and the dancer mid-spin. I decided this wasn't one memory I was willing to pay $6 to capture forever. But I did pass along some baksheesh to the manager for the dancer, and he seemed quite content.

In the end, the manager asked me if the pretty girl we were with was my girlfriend. I told him she wasn't and that I didn't have a girlfriend. So, with a straight face, he gave me some advice:
"I think you should get one."