Day 3: Aswan "You make me wanna walk...like a camel" - Southern Culture on the Skids

4/16/07 Aswan

We all pile into the minivan and make our way to the station to catch the sleeper train to Aswan.

Once we get to Aswan, there’s an optional side trip we can take to Abu Simbel to check out the temples. Only catch is, everyone going to Abu Simbel has to go as part of a massive caravan that leaves Aswan at 3 am (for safety reasons, everyone going to Abu Simbel goes in an escorted caravan). It’s a four hour trip, you stay for 3 hours or so, and then you take the caravan back. Kerrie and I had already discussed the side trip, and there was no way in hell we were going. Besides, none of us had really gotten more than a few hours of sleep at a time. Since the trip would be scheduled for the next morning, we had to decide who was going right now. Mohammed takes a head count of who wants to go, and everyone raises their hands except for Kerrie and I. Come on, we can’t be the only lazy bitches around here. Someone asked if Mohammed was going, he just laughed and said no…it’s a long trip. Kevin and Devak changed their minds about going…they’re lazy bitches, too. In our defense, that’s like driving from Houston to Dallas, going to six flags for a couple of hours, and them coming back.

So we make it to the train station, catch our sleeper, and tumble into our assigned quarters. Kerrie and I decided to try some of the local wine (since it ain’t easy finding a lot of alcoholic beverages in this country) and order a bottle of red, which wasn’t bad at all. Kate comes in and the three of us shoot the shit for a while and finish off the wine.

The little porter comes back after Kate has left and makes up our little beds. I decide now is a good time to use the bathroom. I’ve never been on a passenger train before, so it took me a minute to figure out the toilet. There’s a foot pedal, and a knob to turn on a fountain of water inside the toilet, and…how in the hell do you flush this thing? Also, there was a sign to only use the bathroom when the train is moving. I step on the foot pedal and a space opens up to release my “present” (I can’t think of a nicer way to say it) and I see the train tracks. Are you kidding me? So there’s just a trail of toilet paper, piss, and shit up and down the rails. Lovely.

Anyway…

We arrive in Aswan bright and early in the morning, and the place is just beautiful. It’s nice and green, not nearly as populated as Cairo, and the people seem to be better drivers. Also, Aswan is where I saw actual Nubians…black folks, like me.

Our minivan arrives, and we are taken to the docks to catch a boat to the Philae Temple. The boat hands are teenagers, and they bring out this bag of wooden bracelets. I guess this is one of those instances where the souvenirs come to us instead of the other way around. Mohammed whips out his 5 EGP for a bracelet, and we’re all like “hey, if Mohammed is buying one, then it must be a good price.” I decide I’ll just swipe up 10 of ‘em and be done souvenir shopping for my co-workers. We pull up to the dock for the Philae Temple. I’m the last one off the boat, and I hand the kid a bill for 50 EGP for my bracelets. I thought his eyes would bulge out of his head. He gives me another handful of bracelets for free. Cool. Why does he do it? Because we’re “the same color.”
I love that shit. Believe me, I milked it for all it was worth (I asked for a “Nubian discount” on more than one occasion). I did notice, however, when the Nubians did the “you’re my color” thing, they seem to genuinely feel a kinship. When the Arabs did it, it was usually to talk me into coming off some more money. Either way, I got a kick out of it.

So we did the tour and took the photos at the Philae Temple.

Afterwards, we take the boat back to our starting dock and wait for our minivan to arrive. Of course, there’s a bunch of little souvenir “shops” and I got ushered into one by someone who wanted to give me a good deal “because you’re my color.” This guy was really trying to get me to buy this blouse. I did as I’d been doing, feigning interest before walking away. As I’m getting into the minivan, ol’ boy comes sprinting up with the shirt to make me a final offer. I agree to give him 40 EGP (way down from the 200 he initially quoted me…see what I mean about the different uses of “you’re my color”). Mohammed laughed and told me I was definitely a tourist. Hell, I though I did okay, a nice Egyptian shirt for my sister for less than 8 bucks.

At this point, Mohammed tells us not to buy anything else around the tourist sites unless we don’t really care about over-paying. He decides that while everyone is at Abu Simbel tomorrow, Mohammed would take Devak, Kevin, Kerrie, and I to the bizarre and help negotiate our purchases. Cool.

We venture over to the High Dam, which is just as exciting as you’d imagine looking at a dam to be.

After that (non) event, we make our way to our 2 star hotel…which I might add had the best damn hotel view any 2 star hotel ever had. Great view of the water, boats, islands…it was sweet.

Anyway, while we’re waiting in the lobby of the hotel to get our keys, who should wander downstairs but the bra-less wonder from JFK. We all shoot the shit for a minute, she thinks she’s seen me before, and I mention the coincidence that we were on the same plane together. Of course that really gets her going. She’s also from Texas (Dallas), and blah blah blah, I don’t really like talking to strangers, and I really don’t like to do it for a drawn out period of time. My mom does it, my sisters sometimes do it, I’m just not that girl.

We get our room keys, and have just enough to change and take a quick nap before we move onto our next excursion.

We catch out little boat, and are introduced to the crew and one of our local guides. We have a fabulous lunch spread on the boat while listening to the history of the Botanical Gardens of Kitchener Islands, The Elephantine Islands, and the West Bank.

I can’t remember the name of our local guide, but the man was 52 years old and looked like he was pushing 80. Seriously. I guess someone mentioned that we had a few doctors in the making on board, so Mr. Guide Man chatted up Henna. Like I said, he was only 52, but he’s had 2 heart attacks, a stroke, smoked 40 cigarettes a day, and was suffering from congestive heart failure. No wonder he looked so old (plus, you don’t exactly get the best medical care over there).

After a while, we pull over to the bank of the Nile to stretch our legs a bit. Of course, there just had to be a group of half naked teenage boys swimming not too far from where we docked. The “doctors without borders” have brought along a nerf football, and get a rousing game of “monkey in the middle” going. That was truly fun.

After playing around for a while, we hop back in the boat and make our way to where we will grab our camels.

I meet my handler (Abdul) and my camel (Mickey Mouse), and off we go.

I was a little uncomfortable on the camel at first. I was high up, and didn’t really know how to guide it…which is why we all had handlers (although they didn’t so much guide the camels…more like whack ‘em on the ass to make ‘em speed up). I especially got nervous as we neared a drop off area. I was towards the front of the pack with Nicole and John, and I was starting to panic ever so slightly but Abdul said “Don’t worry. Mickey Mouse…he good. He good” so I calmed down again and continued to enjoy my ride.

As we’re going down this narrow path, another camel rider is coming towards us in the opposite direction. He says something to me in Arabic and then slides his hand along my thigh.

Son of a bitch! No he didn’t. “You’re lucky I don’t know how to turn this camel around!” I turn to John and ask “did you see that?” He did that whole you’re kidding thing, too (although he was probably just glad that it was my leg and not Onyi’s, cuz then he’d have to ride off after the guy for touching his girlfriend).

Anyway…

We reached the end of our camel journey to find our boat waiting for us. I tipped Abdul 20 EGP. I had given him 10 at first, but he wanted more because he took a few pictures for me…but I didn’t really mind, since I had made it back in one piece.

Again, we’re on the boat, and we are on our way to visit a Nubian family. Turns out, it’s the family of the guy who owns the boat company (JJ’s tours). We kick off our shoes before entering the house, and we are ushered into the den. JJ offers us all drinks, and tells us a little about Nubian life, and he shows us his wedding video, since he’d gotten married a year or so ago. He explains dating customs: basically, no one is supposed to know you’re dating until you are engaged (he and his betrothed gave each other hand signals when passing in the street to arrange to meet), and at that time you take financial responsibility for the bride’s family until you’re married, which is why they like short engagements. You invite all the neighboring tribes/villages, so the weddings are always massive (not unheard of to have 3000 people). After his wedding, we see (on video) JJ, his new bride, and the female members of her family/entourage board a boat and cruise around the Nile. For some reason, many of the women are dancing around, holding cans of air freshener. Kerrie asked why, and his response was “there’s so many people on the boat, when it gets hot, we don’t want to smell each other!” Ahh, mystery solved.

JJ gives us a tour of his home, and explains that when it was built, they had to mix in feces as an ingredient (“how do you say…shit”) to ensure the house would stay cool; and no, it didn’t smell.

After enjoying JJ’s hospitality, it was time for dinner and (for some of us) the smoking of the sheesha.

Day 2: Cairo, Giza "We're luxurious like Egyptian cotton..." - Gwen Stefani

04/15/2007 Cairo and Giza

So we all get up early and meet for a carbilicious breakfast at the Victoria before heading off to Giza to see the Pyramids and the Sphinx. I guess everyone was slowly trickling in. Most of the Doctors without Borders were already seated. I was enjoying a croissant when Kerrie decided to check her voice messages (her cell phone miraculously worked...probably cuz it's one of those super duper phones that lets you check the internet). The brain trust at Continental neglected to put her bag on the next flight out like they were supposed to (this despite 3 phone calls from Kerrie' stepmom, where she was assured the bags would go out on time). I guess we would only have one good luck baggage story. Henna's bag had also been re-routed (to China), but hers actually made it to Cairo. Kerrie...no such luck. We'd have to go shopping later since the next flight out wouldn't leave until the next day, and we were leaving Cairo tonight.

We make our way to the subway. For women traveling alone, there's the first car, which is all female. Since there were a bunch of strapping young men in our group, we took an uneventful ride to Giza, where we are met by a minivan. It's always a little harrowing in the minivans. I've mentioned before that no one drives inside the lines, and they barely respect signal lights. At one point, our driver was yelling back and forth with another. The other driver got so into the shouting match he ran into the car in front of him. We laughed and laughed.

So when I imagined the Pyramids, I pictured them as being in the middle of this big desert, but that's only half true. You round a corner in the city and there they are. You can pretty much drive up to 'em.

So we get to the first pyramid and we start breaking up into our usual little groups. Next thing you know, we're practically accosted by a bunch of baksheesh seekers. Those selling crap and those selling crappy services. Kerrie and I are telling this one guy as politely as possible that no, we don't want to buy any postcards, pyramid paperweights, bookmarks, etc. Meanwhile his friend has pretty much dragged poor Kate away. Kerrie and I go to "rescue" her just as she's having her picture taken. She's obviously pissed. Apparently baksheesh seeker #2 grabbed her camera and practically forced her to take a picture. Seriously, you had to hold onto your things, otherwise someone will try to carry your bags or take your picture in order to get you to come off some money.

Anywho, after about 20 minutes of snapping pictures, our group comes together again, and Mohammed continues our walking tour. I nearly bust my ass walking down into the Queens tomb, and I sit on a camel for the very first time (it's kind of scary the way he gets up and down; you have to really hold on tight).

There were a hell of a lot of kids roaming around the pyramids selling souvenirs...especially for that time of the morning. This little girl came and sat down between Kate and I at the Sphinx and started shooting the breeze. At first, she was trying to sell us some bookmarks. Once that didn't work she just started telling us about school and how she's basically out selling when she's not at school. In the end she gave us each a free bookmark. I shoved 2 pounds into the kid's hand, but she tried to give it back, saying the bookmarks were a gift. That was the only time someone tried to give me something and truly expected nothing in return.

Our group heads off to lunch where we have some local cuisine consisting of no meat and a bunch of beans and pasta that I never would have thought to combine. It was good as hell, though, especially washed down with a Fanta. Fanta is one of the big drinks in Egypt. When you go to someone's home there, they all have Tea, Coke, and Fanta. I think I drank more Orange soda while I was in Egypt than I have in my whole life.

After lunch, we climb back into our minivan and the driver takes us to the Egyptian Museum. Mohammed impresses us with his knowledge of pretty much every piece in the museum. He has arranged for Tamer to meet up with Kerrie and I so we can go shopping for her some clean clothes. After a harrowing game of what I now call "Egyptian Frogger", Tamer, Kerrie and I have made our way on foot to the shopping district.

Egyptians love their tobacco. You see someone smoking a sheesha pipe around every corner, and people will light up a cigarette any time and anywhere they damn well please. One of the salespeople lit up while helping Kerrie find the right size pants. No wonder there's so many hardware stores stocked with a ton of fire extinguishers everywhere you turn.

We had to go to a number of different stores to find undergarments. The men didn't even seem to want to acknowledge that women wore such things. Tamer seemed embarrassed to show us which stores would sell 'em. Once Kerrie found a store that sold 'em, the cashier averted his eves and just asked how many as he quickly shoved the panties in a bag. She later said "I should've just said one, and dared him to challenge me."

Oh, I forgot to mention that while we are shopping for replacement clothes for Kerrie, we were also hunting for a sheet. Later in the week, we were going to be spending the night on a felucca, and nights in Egypt are a little chilly...the boat crew would provide blankets, but we heard you kinda want to have a barrier between you and the blanket, and our original sheets were in Kerrie's bag back in New York.

For some reason, Tamer couldn't understand what a sheet was ("I've got to see this sheet of which you speak"). We described it in a million different ways, and nothing. Finally, as we're walking back to the hotel, we pass a bedding store. Ah, he finally sees what we're talking about. We wait for the cashier to finish his prayer, and then we get a nice Egyptian cotton sheet for 50 pounds, so now we're set.

I'm embarrassed to admit this, but Kerrie and I couldn't remember Tamer's name. Not to save our lives. But in our defense, it's not an easily pronounceable name. To this day, I'm not sure I'm saying it right. We basically referred to him as "sidekick" all day and never addressed him by name.

So the three of us make our way back to the Victoria, Kerrie and I say our goodbyes to Tamer. As I'm slipping him some baksheesh (see, that was service worth paying for), I tell him that I've forgotten how to pronounce his name. He started laughing and said "after almost 3 hours together, now you ask?" But I'm sure the 50 EGP he got from each of us helped him get over it. We say our goodbyes to Tamer (hell even after he told me, it flew right out of my head, so once again I don't know his name) and go upstairs to shower and change and get ready to go to the train station where we'd catch a sleeper train to Aswan.

I actually thought seeing the Pyramids would be the pinnacle of my experience, but the adventure just kept getting better and better.