It is now August and not a day goes by that I don't reminisce about my experiences in the Middle East. But my semester there was not all fun and games (or so I tell my parents); it had to in some way enhance my education. I began conducting the primary research on my senior thesis just two weeks ago. The History department suggests that your thesis be rooted in the same field as your concentration, and since my concentration is Middle Eastern history, I decided to write my thesis on the American involvement in the Suez Crisis of 1956.
The first stop on my research tour was Abilene, Kansas, home of the Eisenhower National Library. It's amazing that my study of the Middle East has brought me to middle Kansas. I rolled into Abilene on July 26, which completely coincidentally happened to be the 53rd anniversary of the Suez Crisis. July 26th also holds a special significance for us Cairo veterans because its the name of one of the major roads in Cairo and the name of a bridge connecting our island of Zamalek to Downtown Cairo. It was a bridge we crossed nearly everyday. I needed to do this on the cheap. Since I didn't figure out my research topic until the last minute (I was too busy having fun and playing games in Egypt), I was unable to get any funding. After briefly considering camping for my three night stay, I eventually opted for the Budget Lodge. Abilene at first seemed sleepy and boring to me, by the time I left I really grew to appreciate the place. I easily conversed with people about 4H and the upcoming Kansas Fair, and the fact that it was a small town made it an easy place to manage for a place I had never been before. And in some aspects it reminded me of a live and functioning Fowler, Indiana.
The Eisenhower Library were easy to use and the archivists were extremely helpful. It was a great experience and for the first time I was truly happy to be working on my thesis. It's hard to describe the excitement that comes from looking through boxes upon boxes filled with file folders filled with hundreds of papers and finding buried within some gem of a document, some memorandum of a high-level conversation or minutes from a National Security Council meeting pertaining exactly to what you're researching. And even for the documents that weren't relevant to my topic, it was still exciting to hold pieces of paper once held by President Eisenhower or other historical figures. It was amazing to see the signatures of such people as Nasser and Ben-Gurion. Ever wondered whether Gamal abel Nasser spelled his name Nasr or Nasser? Its Nasser. What About David Ben-Gurion? He signs his name with the the dash, not without. Looking at the declassification dates of the documents was fun as well. The more recent the better, since that meant it was more likely that I was looking at something unavailable to people who previously researched the same topic.
I got back from Abilene on July 30th and today arrived in Princeton, New Jersey, the location of the papers of John Foster Dulles, Eisenhower's Secretary of State. My trip here reminded me of traveling in Cairo. Today was the first time I had been on a plane since my return flight from Cairo, and my first time on a train since the last time I went to Alexandria. If there is one thing I've realized, its that traveling is much more fun with other people, especially when traveling through seedy places. Princeton is not an easy place to get to. I had to fly to Philadelphia and then take the train to Trenton, then take the bus to Princeton and then take a taxi to my hotel. The train was not bad, but the bus wasn't exactly pleasant. Public transport isn't as interesting in your home country. While going through sketchy places in a foreign country is exciting because you get to claim freedom from the standard tourist tract and it usually makes for a good story, doing it here is just forgettable. This isn't exactly a new observation, but public transit in this country really is underutilized, especially when covering between cities rather than within one.
Oh, and then there's the cab. The ten minute cab ride from my bus stop in Princeton to the hotel cost twice as much as the combine two hour train and bus ride from Philadelphia to Princeton. When I tried to negotiate the price (like you would in Egypt), the guy looked at me like I was an idiot. Dismayed, I exited the cab. This is going to be much more expensive than Abilene.
So far, researching has been a great way to stay connected with Egypt. I'm looking first hand at some of the things I studied last semester and I will also be able to visit many of my friends from Cairo when I go to DC to research in the National Archives.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Final Day
On May 30th, my final day in the city of Cairo, Jim and I decided to do something that should have been done a long time ago: visit the Egypt National Museum. It nearly became one of those "I'm here for four months and will have plenty of opportunities to go but never actually do by the time I leave" instances. I can't remember now whether we walked or cabbed there, but I for sure remember that we cabbed back (more on that later!). The museum was very much oriented towards the "week-long tour of Egypt" set, and this is perhaps why we had avoided it for so long. Unlike the quainter or more difficult to reach places we had visited through the semester, the museum is a must-see stop on any tour of Egypt and the Western crowd that this place attracted dampened my spirits. One day before returning to the US, here I was standing awkwardly in a crowd of Europeans and Americans, dressed in shorts, muscle shirts, tank tops, gleefully bearing shoulders and thighs, willfully ignorant of Egyptian social customs. I doubt the Egyptians are as bothered by this as I am; at the end of the day these tourists are responsible for many people's livelihoods. They understand that they come from a different culture and do not intend to insult. And I suppose I should have just found the sight of confused Westerners humorous and went on my way but for some reason I didn't. I see every Western person in Egypt as responsible for representing Western culture, and I want that culture to be represented well. I want the message to at the very least be "Hey, at least I'm making an effort to broaden my viewpoint, even if it doesn't change," not, "Hey! This is like a theme park but bigger and everyone's in costume. Point me to the ancient crap!"
As far as the museum goes, it was great. Too many artifacts to take in all in one day, and definitely worth getting a guide to help explain it all to you. I mean you are literally tripping over stuff as you walk through the place. Highlights were King Tut's gold and the mummy room. The mummy room did anger me a bit though. After paying the general museum admission, it was an extra 100LE fee to get into the mummy room. Luckily the student price knocked it down to 60LE (still a huge price). Too bad I wasn't Arab. They get in for 5LE. At places like this I forget that most foreigners aren't students living on a student budget. Most foreigners are tourists, who find 100LE a fair price to pay for seeing some of the world's greatest artifacts. And those foreigners who aren't tourists but ex-pats, living and working in Egypt, still get paid salaries on par with those of their home nation and not Egypt. The special Arab price keeps the museums affordable for Egyptians while allowing maximum income from foreigners. I guess I'll keep all that in mind and try not to get so upset next time.
Once finished we grabbed a cab back to our dorm. We got in one of the black and white ones waiting outside of the museum. We both knew better than to take a taxi waiting outside such an obvious tourist attraction, but either for some reason we hopped in. We told him where we were going and exchanged pleasantries in Arabic. At this point the guy realized we weren't completely ignorant of the way things worked in Egypt and decided he better set his price now before he got too far away from the cash-cow that is the museum. He said in a friendly manner "25 pounds. Good, no?" Jim and I laughed, saying la, la, la, khamsa. He says "no way," we motion for him to stop the car and we get out. He turns around and heads back to the musuem, most likely upset at getting tricked by picking up the some of the only white guys in the whole place that knew anyting about taxi prices and hoping to have better luck next time. Just as he left another taxi pulled up, perfectly happy to take us back to Zamalek for 5LE.
I spent the rest of the day packing. I was surprised to fit everything, incuding the shisha pipe and souveniers, all in two bags. Later that night I met with Abdel one last time. Tonight we went to the muhandis club he had taken Mark and I to on our first night in Egypt. We sat and talked again about Egypt and his time at Notre Dame as a grad student. I tried a hummus "drink" made from vinegar, lime, salt, and hummus beans. Then we watched a wedding taking place at the club and listened for Abdel's name among the 99 recited at the wedding reception (Abdel means "servant of" and is followed by one of the 99 names of God, i.e., the magnificant, the all-knowing, etc.). Before finally saying goodbye he gave me an extensive list of people to say hi to for him at the Notre Dame engineering department once I got back to school.
As soon as I left Abdel I met up with Ali, Chris, and Jake. We brought some stuff from Drinkies and enjoyed it on one ride down the Nile on one of the loud motor-driven falucha boats. There were a number of Egyptian families out on the river that night too.
At 2am the Yellow Cab we booked pulled up to take us all to the aiport. In fitting fashion, Egypt left me with one last scam. These cabs are metered so one can't really negotiate the fare (or jack up the price for foreigners). To get around this cabbies often simply take longer routes. The fastest way to the airport is through the heart of the city, and at this time of night traffic was not a problem. But instead our cab took us to the airport via the ring-road, about twice the distance. We protested but no matter what we said the cabbie pretended not to understand, we were already captive inside his car. Our final fare was nearly 80LE. The direct route's fair is about 35LE. He didnt' stop there, though. He tried to tack an extra five onto the cost of the parking lot's entrance fee. I'd been to the airport enough times to know that its 10, not 15, and managed to at least save us this miniscule amount.
Three plane rides and about 18 hours later I was in my grandma's Honda minivan driving down I-70 to my house in the St. Louis suburbs. It was the strangest sensation to be exploring thousand-year old buildings in a Middle-Eastern city and less than a day later be sitting in the middle of America, so far removed from the place that for the past four months I had called home.
The taxi scam left me with a bad last impression of Egypt, but it didn't linger for long. As June wore on I really began to miss the adventures of living in Cairo; the exotic quality of simply living day-to-day life. I cannot hop in car and just visit for a day or two. Egypt is now back to what it was before my trip, a distant place visited through books and pictures, not first-hand experiences. Its remoteness now in miles and in time gives my time spent there a dream-like quality. Did I really spend four months of my life in Cairo? Was there really a time when I didn't think twice about taking a weekend trip to Lebanon, riding the train to Alexandria for the day, spending spring break in southern Kenya? Did I really meet all of these people, stand on the satellite-covered roof of a friends apartment complex, practice Arabic with boabs?
I'm starting to sound pretty wishy-washy, so that's where I'll leave it. It's no good living in the past anyway. I'm sure I will be back to Egypt at some point, and there are still so many places to go. I still need to see Syria and Jordan, Israel and Palestine. Who knows, Iraq might even be a viable destination sometime soon! And my friend Tom spent the past semester in Australia and taveling all around Oceania. That sounds pretty cool too. I'll have to add it to the list.
As far as the museum goes, it was great. Too many artifacts to take in all in one day, and definitely worth getting a guide to help explain it all to you. I mean you are literally tripping over stuff as you walk through the place. Highlights were King Tut's gold and the mummy room. The mummy room did anger me a bit though. After paying the general museum admission, it was an extra 100LE fee to get into the mummy room. Luckily the student price knocked it down to 60LE (still a huge price). Too bad I wasn't Arab. They get in for 5LE. At places like this I forget that most foreigners aren't students living on a student budget. Most foreigners are tourists, who find 100LE a fair price to pay for seeing some of the world's greatest artifacts. And those foreigners who aren't tourists but ex-pats, living and working in Egypt, still get paid salaries on par with those of their home nation and not Egypt. The special Arab price keeps the museums affordable for Egyptians while allowing maximum income from foreigners. I guess I'll keep all that in mind and try not to get so upset next time.
Once finished we grabbed a cab back to our dorm. We got in one of the black and white ones waiting outside of the museum. We both knew better than to take a taxi waiting outside such an obvious tourist attraction, but either for some reason we hopped in. We told him where we were going and exchanged pleasantries in Arabic. At this point the guy realized we weren't completely ignorant of the way things worked in Egypt and decided he better set his price now before he got too far away from the cash-cow that is the museum. He said in a friendly manner "25 pounds. Good, no?" Jim and I laughed, saying la, la, la, khamsa. He says "no way," we motion for him to stop the car and we get out. He turns around and heads back to the musuem, most likely upset at getting tricked by picking up the some of the only white guys in the whole place that knew anyting about taxi prices and hoping to have better luck next time. Just as he left another taxi pulled up, perfectly happy to take us back to Zamalek for 5LE.
I spent the rest of the day packing. I was surprised to fit everything, incuding the shisha pipe and souveniers, all in two bags. Later that night I met with Abdel one last time. Tonight we went to the muhandis club he had taken Mark and I to on our first night in Egypt. We sat and talked again about Egypt and his time at Notre Dame as a grad student. I tried a hummus "drink" made from vinegar, lime, salt, and hummus beans. Then we watched a wedding taking place at the club and listened for Abdel's name among the 99 recited at the wedding reception (Abdel means "servant of" and is followed by one of the 99 names of God, i.e., the magnificant, the all-knowing, etc.). Before finally saying goodbye he gave me an extensive list of people to say hi to for him at the Notre Dame engineering department once I got back to school.
As soon as I left Abdel I met up with Ali, Chris, and Jake. We brought some stuff from Drinkies and enjoyed it on one ride down the Nile on one of the loud motor-driven falucha boats. There were a number of Egyptian families out on the river that night too.
At 2am the Yellow Cab we booked pulled up to take us all to the aiport. In fitting fashion, Egypt left me with one last scam. These cabs are metered so one can't really negotiate the fare (or jack up the price for foreigners). To get around this cabbies often simply take longer routes. The fastest way to the airport is through the heart of the city, and at this time of night traffic was not a problem. But instead our cab took us to the airport via the ring-road, about twice the distance. We protested but no matter what we said the cabbie pretended not to understand, we were already captive inside his car. Our final fare was nearly 80LE. The direct route's fair is about 35LE. He didnt' stop there, though. He tried to tack an extra five onto the cost of the parking lot's entrance fee. I'd been to the airport enough times to know that its 10, not 15, and managed to at least save us this miniscule amount.
Three plane rides and about 18 hours later I was in my grandma's Honda minivan driving down I-70 to my house in the St. Louis suburbs. It was the strangest sensation to be exploring thousand-year old buildings in a Middle-Eastern city and less than a day later be sitting in the middle of America, so far removed from the place that for the past four months I had called home.
The taxi scam left me with a bad last impression of Egypt, but it didn't linger for long. As June wore on I really began to miss the adventures of living in Cairo; the exotic quality of simply living day-to-day life. I cannot hop in car and just visit for a day or two. Egypt is now back to what it was before my trip, a distant place visited through books and pictures, not first-hand experiences. Its remoteness now in miles and in time gives my time spent there a dream-like quality. Did I really spend four months of my life in Cairo? Was there really a time when I didn't think twice about taking a weekend trip to Lebanon, riding the train to Alexandria for the day, spending spring break in southern Kenya? Did I really meet all of these people, stand on the satellite-covered roof of a friends apartment complex, practice Arabic with boabs?
I'm starting to sound pretty wishy-washy, so that's where I'll leave it. It's no good living in the past anyway. I'm sure I will be back to Egypt at some point, and there are still so many places to go. I still need to see Syria and Jordan, Israel and Palestine. Who knows, Iraq might even be a viable destination sometime soon! And my friend Tom spent the past semester in Australia and taveling all around Oceania. That sounds pretty cool too. I'll have to add it to the list.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Last Days in Cairo: 4
Thursday (May 28) of my last week in Cairo Jim and I made our last trip into Islamic Cairo. I had been looking through my trusty National Geographic Traveler guide to Egypt for facts for my posts on touring Islamic Cairo and came across some things that I had missed those first two times around which I felt merited a third and final trip. The first was the Museum of Islamic Art and the second the Gayer-Anderson Museum. The Gayer-Anderson Museum was connected to Ibn-Tulun, which made it even more disappointing to miss since I had just been to Ibn-Tulun the week before.
The Museum of Islamic Art
Jim and I took a cab to Opera Station on Zamalek and took the metro from there to Attba, then walked to the Museum of Islamic Art. This walk was exciting because it was through a part of the city that I really had not been in at all. Spencer and I had walk from Attba to the Khan a couple days before but that was in a completely different direction. It was one of my last days in Cairo and I was excited to again be finding my way around by map in a completely foreign place. We walked to Midan al-Attba and from there the museum was a straight shot down Sharia al-Qal'a. Not too much past an outdoor furniture market was Midan Bab al-Khalq and our museum. The building was a massive tan and brown striped stone structure. We walked up to the entrance on Qal'a Street and were turned away. The guys working the desk inside told us to walk around to the other entrance for the museum. Well the main entrance, facing the square (midan), was bordered up. We walked around the entire perimeter of the building as far was the fences would allow and could not find any alternative entrances. We went back to the first one, on Qal'a Street, and again asked how to get into the museum. It was only then that they told was that the museum was closed and wouldn't reopen for another three months. I'm not exactly sure why they couldn't have told us that the first time around.
I was disappointed about the museum being closed, but this did leave as more time for the rest of our day. Ibn-Tulun, where the Gayer-Anderson museum was located, had to be accessed from either Sharia Bur Said or Sharia Muhammed Ali, both of which met at Midan Bab al-Khalq. We chose Bur Said and walked a distance away from the traffic of the square before hailing a cab. He dropped us off at Ibn-Tulun and we made our way into the mosque. Just like last time, the guards at the entrance were at great pains to emphasize that Ibn-Tulun had no entrance fee and that no one was owed any baqshish. Once inside the outer wall of the mosque complex and in the area between the outer wall and the walls of the mosque proper we took a left. At the corner was the entrance to the Gayer-Anderson Museum, which did require an entrance fee and baqshish paid to the tour guide. The museum was a 16th century house owned by an eccentric British lawyer/doctor/officer in the late imperial period. The interior decorations were preserved, complete with secret passageways, intricate wood lattice work, separate men's and women's lounging areas, isolated courtyards and gardens, rooftop patios looking over the mosque walls, and indoor fountains. Each room had a different purpose and different theme. There was the miniature art gallery and a miniature museum of ancient Egyptian artifacts. Various rooms were Syrian, Turkish, and Chinese themed. There were also the standard sitting, reading, and drafting rooms of such aristocratic British homes, as well as a library. The authentic Islamic architecture and interior decorations made the museum well worth the trip and price.
The Gayer-Anderson Museum from the garden in the back
Jim needed to go to the Khan to pick up some more gifts for family members and I still had two taola boards to pick up from my guy at the woodworking shop. We decided to walk there from Ibn-Tulun and retraced much of the route the taxi had taken us on from the Islamic Art Museum. Again, I really appreciated the opportunity to walk through a part of Cairo so devoid of tourists and people looking to sell to tourists. It felt nice to be in a place where Cairenes went about their daily lives without the intense focus on the tourist economy. We walked northwest on Qadri street, with Ibn-Tulun's distinctive minaret at our backs, until we met up with Bur Said. Here we took a right and walked up to Midan Bab al-Khalq. On the corner of Bur Said and Sharia Ahmad Mahir we found a small, grimy koushary shop and grabbed a cheap lunch. From here we took a right on Ahmad Mahir until we reached Bab Zuwayla, the southern medieval gate of Islamic Cairo. It was refreshing to enter the Khan from such a strange direction. I had been to this part of the bazaar before and had even climbed the western tower of Bab Zuwayla, but I had always come from Midan Hussein and al-Azhar in the north. I had never entered the bazaar from its southern edges, actually entering through that massive stone gate through which so many medieval travelers and merchants must have entered the the old city as well.
I wished to come in this way because I wanted to purchase something from a man whose stall was located just inside the gate, opposite the white and pink striped mosque, and we otherwise had no other reason for being this far south of the main bazaar. It would have been a long side trip had we come in through the more centrally located Midan Hussein. What I wanted to purchase was a yard or so of that diversely multi-purposed and colorfully patterned cloth that was so ubiquitous throughout Cairo. Cloth of this type could be seen draped across the scaffolding of building under repair protecting the workers, decorating the tables of vendors in the bazaar, and even on the gates of Versailles Palace, the cafe right next to our dorm. After buying some fabric for myself and Spencer we walked north past Qasr al-Ghuri, through the tunnels of the pedestrian underpass, and into Khan al-Khalili proper. Merchant stalls run from Bab Zuwayla all the way north to Bab al-Futuh, but as far as I know only anything north of al-Azhar is considered an official part of Khan al-Khalili.
Approaching Bab Zuwayla on Sharia Ahmed Mahir
The Museum of Islamic ArtJim and I took a cab to Opera Station on Zamalek and took the metro from there to Attba, then walked to the Museum of Islamic Art. This walk was exciting because it was through a part of the city that I really had not been in at all. Spencer and I had walk from Attba to the Khan a couple days before but that was in a completely different direction. It was one of my last days in Cairo and I was excited to again be finding my way around by map in a completely foreign place. We walked to Midan al-Attba and from there the museum was a straight shot down Sharia al-Qal'a. Not too much past an outdoor furniture market was Midan Bab al-Khalq and our museum. The building was a massive tan and brown striped stone structure. We walked up to the entrance on Qal'a Street and were turned away. The guys working the desk inside told us to walk around to the other entrance for the museum. Well the main entrance, facing the square (midan), was bordered up. We walked around the entire perimeter of the building as far was the fences would allow and could not find any alternative entrances. We went back to the first one, on Qal'a Street, and again asked how to get into the museum. It was only then that they told was that the museum was closed and wouldn't reopen for another three months. I'm not exactly sure why they couldn't have told us that the first time around.
I was disappointed about the museum being closed, but this did leave as more time for the rest of our day. Ibn-Tulun, where the Gayer-Anderson museum was located, had to be accessed from either Sharia Bur Said or Sharia Muhammed Ali, both of which met at Midan Bab al-Khalq. We chose Bur Said and walked a distance away from the traffic of the square before hailing a cab. He dropped us off at Ibn-Tulun and we made our way into the mosque. Just like last time, the guards at the entrance were at great pains to emphasize that Ibn-Tulun had no entrance fee and that no one was owed any baqshish. Once inside the outer wall of the mosque complex and in the area between the outer wall and the walls of the mosque proper we took a left. At the corner was the entrance to the Gayer-Anderson Museum, which did require an entrance fee and baqshish paid to the tour guide. The museum was a 16th century house owned by an eccentric British lawyer/doctor/officer in the late imperial period. The interior decorations were preserved, complete with secret passageways, intricate wood lattice work, separate men's and women's lounging areas, isolated courtyards and gardens, rooftop patios looking over the mosque walls, and indoor fountains. Each room had a different purpose and different theme. There was the miniature art gallery and a miniature museum of ancient Egyptian artifacts. Various rooms were Syrian, Turkish, and Chinese themed. There were also the standard sitting, reading, and drafting rooms of such aristocratic British homes, as well as a library. The authentic Islamic architecture and interior decorations made the museum well worth the trip and price.
The Gayer-Anderson Museum from the garden in the back An interior room of the Gayer-Anderson
A fine example of Gayer-Anderson's eccentricity (that's him in picture if you didn't get the hint)
Jim needed to go to the Khan to pick up some more gifts for family members and I still had two taola boards to pick up from my guy at the woodworking shop. We decided to walk there from Ibn-Tulun and retraced much of the route the taxi had taken us on from the Islamic Art Museum. Again, I really appreciated the opportunity to walk through a part of Cairo so devoid of tourists and people looking to sell to tourists. It felt nice to be in a place where Cairenes went about their daily lives without the intense focus on the tourist economy. We walked northwest on Qadri street, with Ibn-Tulun's distinctive minaret at our backs, until we met up with Bur Said. Here we took a right and walked up to Midan Bab al-Khalq. On the corner of Bur Said and Sharia Ahmad Mahir we found a small, grimy koushary shop and grabbed a cheap lunch. From here we took a right on Ahmad Mahir until we reached Bab Zuwayla, the southern medieval gate of Islamic Cairo. It was refreshing to enter the Khan from such a strange direction. I had been to this part of the bazaar before and had even climbed the western tower of Bab Zuwayla, but I had always come from Midan Hussein and al-Azhar in the north. I had never entered the bazaar from its southern edges, actually entering through that massive stone gate through which so many medieval travelers and merchants must have entered the the old city as well.
I wished to come in this way because I wanted to purchase something from a man whose stall was located just inside the gate, opposite the white and pink striped mosque, and we otherwise had no other reason for being this far south of the main bazaar. It would have been a long side trip had we come in through the more centrally located Midan Hussein. What I wanted to purchase was a yard or so of that diversely multi-purposed and colorfully patterned cloth that was so ubiquitous throughout Cairo. Cloth of this type could be seen draped across the scaffolding of building under repair protecting the workers, decorating the tables of vendors in the bazaar, and even on the gates of Versailles Palace, the cafe right next to our dorm. After buying some fabric for myself and Spencer we walked north past Qasr al-Ghuri, through the tunnels of the pedestrian underpass, and into Khan al-Khalili proper. Merchant stalls run from Bab Zuwayla all the way north to Bab al-Futuh, but as far as I know only anything north of al-Azhar is considered an official part of Khan al-Khalili.
Approaching Bab Zuwayla on Sharia Ahmed MahirThankfully my guy at the woodshop had my taola boards in. I had requested three wood-grain boards. Unlike the one I had purchased earlier, which was decorated with colored in-lays, the ones I had commissioned were decorated with different shades of wood stain. This is the type that had caught my eye before but had so upsettingly been sold to a high-bidding tourist the day before I promised I would come in to buy it. Finally I purchased the three boards: two for myself and one I for Spencer who had to take an exam that day. I also impulsively bought a framed ancient Egyptian scene painted on Papyrus, my one kitschy purchase of the trip. These were the last of many items our group purchased from the man in this shop. I know that Mark bought at least one taola board, a mother-of-pearl inlaid Quaran, a book stand, and possibly a mirror. Jim bought some mother-of-pearl inlaid jewelry boxes. We said our goodbyes to the man who had been a continuous part of our Egypt experience. Mark and I discovered his shop on my first trip to the Khan one day in February, less than a week after the bombing, and I had stopped in to say hello of trip to the Khan since then. On the way out he gave each of us a gift: a small box decorated in the same style as the taola boards I had just purchased. I was touched by the gift. This man, just like all the others in the Khan, was in the business of selling items, mostly to overpaying tourists. Very rarely did they just give anything away that wasn't included as an incentive in some sort of haggling deal, no matter how small the item. This gift was completely unexpected.
Down the main street of the Khan, the one that ran north to south between the two medieval gates, Jim found a lady selling ladle-shaped metal cups for making Turkish coffee. They were beautiful and graciously priced, but I was running out of room in my luggage and out of money. Jim crossed one more item off his list and we were then off to find him a galabiya. Here we walked west down a very long and very crowded street mostly selling clothing items, the same street where I had bought a Zamalek football jersey for my brother on my first trip to the Khan, and the same street where I first noticed the hissing/kissing sound Egyptians use instead of saying "watch out, get out of the way, wide load, beep-beep," etc. as some guy was trying to plow through the crowd with a cart laden with sacks of who knows what. Looking at my map now this must have been Sharia al-Muski, although the name is really irrelevant since we never needed it to navigate our way around and most Egyptians don't really use nor need street names to navigate either. There are just streets and landmarks. Names are useful only in conjunction with a map, and this is if you are lucky enough to find the street name posted anywhere; most Egyptians wouldn't know the name of the street they took every day to work unless it was one of the few major thorough-fares in the city. For some smaller streets I feel as if the name exists only on the map, as there are in realy life no signs indicating the street's name or people aware of such a name. Anyway, this portion of the Khan I always remembered for its crowds and proliferation of clothing products, and we soon found a vendor willing to Jim a decent galabiyya in the 40-60LE range.
We taxied back to Zamalek, careful as usual to walk a short distance away from the Khan before grabbing a cab. This decreased the likelihood of getting a cabbie with unreasonable price expectations. I usually paid 15LE for the ride from the Khan back to the dorm on Zamalek. I know this is a little high, but it is by no means exorbitant and it's almost always accepted without protest. You can pay 10LE if you are willing to haggle, but never did I leave the Khan in the mood to haggle. The Khan is compact, crowded, and at that time of year hot and sweaty. When it came time to leave I had always had my fill of haggling and felt physically drained. Any extra haggling effort to me just wasn't worth it, especially when that extra 5LE amounts to only $0.90US split between a couple of riders. Some of us fought for the cheaper rates on principle: "I'm not an ignorant foreigner. I'm not a tourist just passing through for the week. I can speak Arabic and I've been living here for months. I know the fair Egyptian price just as well as you do and I will not bet taken advantage of." I totally agree with the viewpoint in other circumstances, but again, fighting for $0.90 just wasn't a battle I was willing to fight. Besides, I was making almost 4 times more per month in my monthly stipend from ND than a government-employed Egyptian doctor. That extra $0.90 is worth a lot more to him than it is to me.
We found a cab parked along the curb and said Zamalek. He asked how much up front and we said 15LE. He shook his head and pulled forward a bit. Then another cab swooped in and took his place. We made the same offer and he gladly accepted without protest. This seemed to be a common practice around tourist areas. Some of the cabs sit and wait for the unwitting tourists willing to pay the high prices. This is obviously more profitable, but sometimes I wonder how many takers they actually get. Jim and I would run into this one more time before we left, outside the Egyptian National Museum on Friday, our last day in Cairo.
Down the main street of the Khan, the one that ran north to south between the two medieval gates, Jim found a lady selling ladle-shaped metal cups for making Turkish coffee. They were beautiful and graciously priced, but I was running out of room in my luggage and out of money. Jim crossed one more item off his list and we were then off to find him a galabiya. Here we walked west down a very long and very crowded street mostly selling clothing items, the same street where I had bought a Zamalek football jersey for my brother on my first trip to the Khan, and the same street where I first noticed the hissing/kissing sound Egyptians use instead of saying "watch out, get out of the way, wide load, beep-beep," etc. as some guy was trying to plow through the crowd with a cart laden with sacks of who knows what. Looking at my map now this must have been Sharia al-Muski, although the name is really irrelevant since we never needed it to navigate our way around and most Egyptians don't really use nor need street names to navigate either. There are just streets and landmarks. Names are useful only in conjunction with a map, and this is if you are lucky enough to find the street name posted anywhere; most Egyptians wouldn't know the name of the street they took every day to work unless it was one of the few major thorough-fares in the city. For some smaller streets I feel as if the name exists only on the map, as there are in realy life no signs indicating the street's name or people aware of such a name. Anyway, this portion of the Khan I always remembered for its crowds and proliferation of clothing products, and we soon found a vendor willing to Jim a decent galabiyya in the 40-60LE range.
We taxied back to Zamalek, careful as usual to walk a short distance away from the Khan before grabbing a cab. This decreased the likelihood of getting a cabbie with unreasonable price expectations. I usually paid 15LE for the ride from the Khan back to the dorm on Zamalek. I know this is a little high, but it is by no means exorbitant and it's almost always accepted without protest. You can pay 10LE if you are willing to haggle, but never did I leave the Khan in the mood to haggle. The Khan is compact, crowded, and at that time of year hot and sweaty. When it came time to leave I had always had my fill of haggling and felt physically drained. Any extra haggling effort to me just wasn't worth it, especially when that extra 5LE amounts to only $0.90US split between a couple of riders. Some of us fought for the cheaper rates on principle: "I'm not an ignorant foreigner. I'm not a tourist just passing through for the week. I can speak Arabic and I've been living here for months. I know the fair Egyptian price just as well as you do and I will not bet taken advantage of." I totally agree with the viewpoint in other circumstances, but again, fighting for $0.90 just wasn't a battle I was willing to fight. Besides, I was making almost 4 times more per month in my monthly stipend from ND than a government-employed Egyptian doctor. That extra $0.90 is worth a lot more to him than it is to me.
We found a cab parked along the curb and said Zamalek. He asked how much up front and we said 15LE. He shook his head and pulled forward a bit. Then another cab swooped in and took his place. We made the same offer and he gladly accepted without protest. This seemed to be a common practice around tourist areas. Some of the cabs sit and wait for the unwitting tourists willing to pay the high prices. This is obviously more profitable, but sometimes I wonder how many takers they actually get. Jim and I would run into this one more time before we left, outside the Egyptian National Museum on Friday, our last day in Cairo.
Last Days in Cairo: 3
On Wednesday I tried to visit the Museum of Modern Egyptian Art but it was closed during the time I tried to visit. I showed up around 2:30. The man at the door instructed me that the museum was only open from 8am to 2pm, and then again from 5pm to 9pm. So instead I made the half-hour walk back up the island to the HSBC Bank, across the street from the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf that I started going to with Julia during the last couple of weeks to study. At the bank I cashed the traveler's checks that had been sitting in my pocket since I left the US four months earlier. I would need the money for my trip to the Khan the next day with Jim and for random airport necessities on my flight home on Saturday.
That night our professor friend from Cairo University took me out for fatir and sandwiches from Na'ba. We walked north along the western side of Zamalek, almost all the way to Sequoia, and took the ferry across the Nile over to Doqqi. We caught a cab to Na'ba, a fast food restaurant offereing Egyptian food. A police officer was kind enough to let the cabbie park on the side of the busy street while we picked up our sandwiches. Since I was American I carried a bit of influence and rules could be bent. Both the cabbie and the police officer excitedly mentioned Obama (one of the few English words they know), and the officer muttered something about Iraq under his breath. The cab then took us to a fatir restaurant where we got two vegetable fatirs before walking across the University Bridge to the Professor's Club on the other eastern bank of the Nile. The professor pointed out the Israeli Embassy. It occupied the top two floors of the first building north of the bridge on the western bank. Security around the building was tight.
At the nadi we discussed Egypt. He was interested in my reflections on my time in Cairo and what I liked, disliked, and if I would miss the city. I told him I would absolutely miss it, but I had a hard time articulating any other feelings. There were things that I loved and hated about Cairo, and I can say neither that I loved the place nor that I hated it. It was just Cairo and I liked it for what it was. He wanted something more concrete, so I told him that I enjoyed how exotically different things were here than in America, and that this made daily life a little more exciting. I also told him that I had a really hard time with how many Egyptian men treated females, especially the foreign ones. He said that this harassment came from the fact that the younger generations were too poor to afford to be able to get married, and that those who could afford it usually couldn't accumulate the necessary money until their late 20s or early 30s. For this reason the youth had developed the very untraditional habit of befriending members of the opposite sex, often going on walks along the Corniche al-Nil or standing on a bridge, staring at the water and talking, maybe even holding hands. While the nature of these boy-girl. He said that society didn't know how to handle the rapid changes in male-female realations. While these "relationships" are definitely new and will have a unpredictable affect on Egyptian society, I found this explanation problematic. For one, Egyptian society has not always been as traditional as it is today. Two, this might explain why some young men were confused as to how they should talk to women, but it didn't explain harassment by the older men, who harassed just as much as the young ones.
A more effective explanation was that our media gives Egyptians a very poor image of our women's morals. In almost all American TV shows or movies, the men and women are almost never faithful (if they were it would certainly make for a boring drama). It is from these TV shows and movies that most Egyptians learn about American women. In their interpretation, having a boyfriend means nothing in terms of fidelity, and even married women can easily be persuaded to cheat. I find this explanation more reasonable. I would not say that American media is representative of the average American woman, but I can see how if this is what you depend on to learn about real American people, you might draw some of these conclusions. But this reasoning still doesn't explain why Egyptian women experience the same harassement as the western ones. And in either case, the harassment is inexcusable no matter what the cause. It's funny how quickly some of these men violate the same feminine modesty that they so vocally champion.
Our talk also turned to the Egyptian government, the prospects of Egypt's future, and the recent slaughter of Egypt's 300,000 pigs in the effort to combat the recent international Swine Flu scare. Corruption kept the government from making any meaningful progress in improving the situation of the Egyptian People. Bureaucratic inefficiency and further corruption had been slowing things down at Cairo University. He even said that it would take a miracle for Egypt to in 50 years maintain the same standard of living as the present, nevermind improvement or progress.
All 300,000 pigs in Cairo, which many poor Coptic Christian depended on for food, had recently been slaughtered to prevent the spread of Swine Flu, even though some scientists doubt that the flu can be passed from pig to man, making this a grossly unnecessary and costly measure. Some saw the slaughter as an excuse to further harm Egypt's minority Christian population while proving to radical Muslim groups, of whom the government was ever scared, that the regime was not in opposition to Islam. The professor and I disagreed on the motivations for the slaughter, but he was fearful of purchasing anything with meat in it that day. He said that the meat would not be thrown away but sold, and since pork would not fetch a good price in the days of the Swine Flu scare, it would be made into sausages and marketed as a non-pork product. I was amused by the prospect of the Egyptian government slaughtering hundreds of thousands of pigs, due to the Swine Flue or Muslim radicals or both, only to sell this potentially Swine Flu infected pork meat to unsuspecting Muslims. I have no idea how true this scenario may have been but I find it amusing nonetheless.
We finished up at the nadi and walked back across the bridge. We took a minibus back to 26 July, and walked across to the Zamalek side and back to my dorm. The professor apologized that he did not get to see Mark again before he left and explained that he had been very busy the past couple of weeks with conferences in Karachi, London, and Aden. I told him not to worry; Mark had moved up his departure date by a week and we had forgotten to let him know, so he shouldn't blame himself for missing him. I agreed to see him again Friday night before I finally left.
That night our professor friend from Cairo University took me out for fatir and sandwiches from Na'ba. We walked north along the western side of Zamalek, almost all the way to Sequoia, and took the ferry across the Nile over to Doqqi. We caught a cab to Na'ba, a fast food restaurant offereing Egyptian food. A police officer was kind enough to let the cabbie park on the side of the busy street while we picked up our sandwiches. Since I was American I carried a bit of influence and rules could be bent. Both the cabbie and the police officer excitedly mentioned Obama (one of the few English words they know), and the officer muttered something about Iraq under his breath. The cab then took us to a fatir restaurant where we got two vegetable fatirs before walking across the University Bridge to the Professor's Club on the other eastern bank of the Nile. The professor pointed out the Israeli Embassy. It occupied the top two floors of the first building north of the bridge on the western bank. Security around the building was tight.
At the nadi we discussed Egypt. He was interested in my reflections on my time in Cairo and what I liked, disliked, and if I would miss the city. I told him I would absolutely miss it, but I had a hard time articulating any other feelings. There were things that I loved and hated about Cairo, and I can say neither that I loved the place nor that I hated it. It was just Cairo and I liked it for what it was. He wanted something more concrete, so I told him that I enjoyed how exotically different things were here than in America, and that this made daily life a little more exciting. I also told him that I had a really hard time with how many Egyptian men treated females, especially the foreign ones. He said that this harassment came from the fact that the younger generations were too poor to afford to be able to get married, and that those who could afford it usually couldn't accumulate the necessary money until their late 20s or early 30s. For this reason the youth had developed the very untraditional habit of befriending members of the opposite sex, often going on walks along the Corniche al-Nil or standing on a bridge, staring at the water and talking, maybe even holding hands. While the nature of these boy-girl. He said that society didn't know how to handle the rapid changes in male-female realations. While these "relationships" are definitely new and will have a unpredictable affect on Egyptian society, I found this explanation problematic. For one, Egyptian society has not always been as traditional as it is today. Two, this might explain why some young men were confused as to how they should talk to women, but it didn't explain harassment by the older men, who harassed just as much as the young ones.
A more effective explanation was that our media gives Egyptians a very poor image of our women's morals. In almost all American TV shows or movies, the men and women are almost never faithful (if they were it would certainly make for a boring drama). It is from these TV shows and movies that most Egyptians learn about American women. In their interpretation, having a boyfriend means nothing in terms of fidelity, and even married women can easily be persuaded to cheat. I find this explanation more reasonable. I would not say that American media is representative of the average American woman, but I can see how if this is what you depend on to learn about real American people, you might draw some of these conclusions. But this reasoning still doesn't explain why Egyptian women experience the same harassement as the western ones. And in either case, the harassment is inexcusable no matter what the cause. It's funny how quickly some of these men violate the same feminine modesty that they so vocally champion.
Our talk also turned to the Egyptian government, the prospects of Egypt's future, and the recent slaughter of Egypt's 300,000 pigs in the effort to combat the recent international Swine Flu scare. Corruption kept the government from making any meaningful progress in improving the situation of the Egyptian People. Bureaucratic inefficiency and further corruption had been slowing things down at Cairo University. He even said that it would take a miracle for Egypt to in 50 years maintain the same standard of living as the present, nevermind improvement or progress.
All 300,000 pigs in Cairo, which many poor Coptic Christian depended on for food, had recently been slaughtered to prevent the spread of Swine Flu, even though some scientists doubt that the flu can be passed from pig to man, making this a grossly unnecessary and costly measure. Some saw the slaughter as an excuse to further harm Egypt's minority Christian population while proving to radical Muslim groups, of whom the government was ever scared, that the regime was not in opposition to Islam. The professor and I disagreed on the motivations for the slaughter, but he was fearful of purchasing anything with meat in it that day. He said that the meat would not be thrown away but sold, and since pork would not fetch a good price in the days of the Swine Flu scare, it would be made into sausages and marketed as a non-pork product. I was amused by the prospect of the Egyptian government slaughtering hundreds of thousands of pigs, due to the Swine Flue or Muslim radicals or both, only to sell this potentially Swine Flu infected pork meat to unsuspecting Muslims. I have no idea how true this scenario may have been but I find it amusing nonetheless.
We finished up at the nadi and walked back across the bridge. We took a minibus back to 26 July, and walked across to the Zamalek side and back to my dorm. The professor apologized that he did not get to see Mark again before he left and explained that he had been very busy the past couple of weeks with conferences in Karachi, London, and Aden. I told him not to worry; Mark had moved up his departure date by a week and we had forgotten to let him know, so he shouldn't blame himself for missing him. I agreed to see him again Friday night before I finally left.
Last Days in Cairo: 2
Last post I left off with my trip to Khan al-Khalili with Spencer on Tuesday of my last week in Cairo. I will pick up from there in a bit but what I forgot to mention though was my trip to Garbage City. I honestly forget when this happened, but I think it was very shortly before Sara left. On some weekend day near the end of the semester, Jim, Sara, Julia, and I rented a driver to take us through Garbage City, a Coptic district of Nasser City known for its resourcefulness with the incredible volume of trash produced by Cairo. This posed a philosophical dilemma for us. On the one hand we did not want to appear as tourists gawking at the poverty of people we hardly understood, and on the other hand we felt it beneficial to expose ourselves to the myriad ways that other people in this world live and that shielding ourselves from the more unpleasant of these would maintain an ignorance that none of us really wanted. So we ended up driving through the district itself and getting out and touring two famous churches.
I never really found out what all they did with the garbage except that they collected it and that bags filled with it were stacked everywhere. The city was composed of narrow streets and alleys what in my memory look like buildings made of clay. The many apartments and shops that made up one city block seemed to all be carved out of one long building with separately raised roofs corresponding with a street-level door. Our last stop of the day was the recycling center, which we were fortunate enough to tour. Either Sara or Julia got the name of our driver from a group of students who had gone the week before and the center had been closed at the time. The part we toured took old clothes and cloth products and remade them into purses, rugs, bath mats and other such goods and sold them either directly out of the recycling center or in the market in Coptic Cairo. I remember though that someone said that the clothes used to make these products were taken directly as donations and so the mystery remains to me as to what was done with all the garbage collected by the city's people.
I forget the specific names of the two churches we toured but I think the first was called the Rock Church. It was a giant amphitheater carved out of rock that seemed to seat thousands. The altar, of course, was at the focal point of the rows of benches. The church had to be accessed from the outside, where from the street level what appeared to be a standard church building sat by a parking lot at the foot of a rock face. Numerous scenes from the Bible were carved into this rock face and our driver told us that they had been made by an Eastern European who had taken a special liking to the church. Entering the church from the street we descended a low-ceilinged walkway which led us beneath the mountain and to the left side of the amphitheater seats. Legend has it that the mountain the church was carved beneath had once been in the center of Cairo, near the old Opera House. There was some sort of conflict involving the native Christians and the upstart Muslims necessitating that the mountain be moved; perhaps it was that there was not enough room downtown for them both to exist and they were fighting over who got to stay. Whatever the reason, the mountain needed to be moved and the Christians prayed for this to happen. Overnight, the mountain was miraculously relocated to its present spot and had since bee the sight of many pilgrimages until the church was finally cut at its foot.
The other church was located in what had been a cave filled with rock rubble. To make the church the cave was cleared of all the rubble and rows for pews and a platform for the altar were carved into the base. A facade was build up at the two opening. The cave was bowl shaped with a rock roof with entrances on either side that opened to daylight. On the side we entered the entrance was narrow and had a domed-shaped mosaic near the short stairwell leading into the back row of pews. The opposite opening was much larger and covered with a large window which let in plenty of light. Bible scenes and verses were cut into the walls of this church as well.
After these churches we drove through the city until we got to the recycling center, and then on the way back to Zamalek we took a detour through the City of the Dead. This had once been a grave yard filled with above-ground graves and mausoleums lain out in a city grid. An earthquake in the recent past had misplaced many people living in poverty who took up quarters in the mausoleums, turning the graveyard into a living, functioning "City of the Dead."
As for our driver, he was a little forward with the girls in the group. This had of by now become expected of most Egyptian men but he was creepster none-the-less. Aside from the uncomfortableness he created with us at times he had done a decent job of chauffeuring us around.
I never really found out what all they did with the garbage except that they collected it and that bags filled with it were stacked everywhere. The city was composed of narrow streets and alleys what in my memory look like buildings made of clay. The many apartments and shops that made up one city block seemed to all be carved out of one long building with separately raised roofs corresponding with a street-level door. Our last stop of the day was the recycling center, which we were fortunate enough to tour. Either Sara or Julia got the name of our driver from a group of students who had gone the week before and the center had been closed at the time. The part we toured took old clothes and cloth products and remade them into purses, rugs, bath mats and other such goods and sold them either directly out of the recycling center or in the market in Coptic Cairo. I remember though that someone said that the clothes used to make these products were taken directly as donations and so the mystery remains to me as to what was done with all the garbage collected by the city's people.
I forget the specific names of the two churches we toured but I think the first was called the Rock Church. It was a giant amphitheater carved out of rock that seemed to seat thousands. The altar, of course, was at the focal point of the rows of benches. The church had to be accessed from the outside, where from the street level what appeared to be a standard church building sat by a parking lot at the foot of a rock face. Numerous scenes from the Bible were carved into this rock face and our driver told us that they had been made by an Eastern European who had taken a special liking to the church. Entering the church from the street we descended a low-ceilinged walkway which led us beneath the mountain and to the left side of the amphitheater seats. Legend has it that the mountain the church was carved beneath had once been in the center of Cairo, near the old Opera House. There was some sort of conflict involving the native Christians and the upstart Muslims necessitating that the mountain be moved; perhaps it was that there was not enough room downtown for them both to exist and they were fighting over who got to stay. Whatever the reason, the mountain needed to be moved and the Christians prayed for this to happen. Overnight, the mountain was miraculously relocated to its present spot and had since bee the sight of many pilgrimages until the church was finally cut at its foot.
The other church was located in what had been a cave filled with rock rubble. To make the church the cave was cleared of all the rubble and rows for pews and a platform for the altar were carved into the base. A facade was build up at the two opening. The cave was bowl shaped with a rock roof with entrances on either side that opened to daylight. On the side we entered the entrance was narrow and had a domed-shaped mosaic near the short stairwell leading into the back row of pews. The opposite opening was much larger and covered with a large window which let in plenty of light. Bible scenes and verses were cut into the walls of this church as well.
After these churches we drove through the city until we got to the recycling center, and then on the way back to Zamalek we took a detour through the City of the Dead. This had once been a grave yard filled with above-ground graves and mausoleums lain out in a city grid. An earthquake in the recent past had misplaced many people living in poverty who took up quarters in the mausoleums, turning the graveyard into a living, functioning "City of the Dead."
As for our driver, he was a little forward with the girls in the group. This had of by now become expected of most Egyptian men but he was creepster none-the-less. Aside from the uncomfortableness he created with us at times he had done a decent job of chauffeuring us around.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Last Days in Cairo: 1
First off, there will most likely be a couple more posts coming over the next few days. There's more that I want to cover about my experiences in Cairo that I haven't gotten to yet. I had meant to take care of them last week, but oh well. We'll start with the last night in Cairo...
Actually we'll start a little earlier than that. My last exam and paper were due Monday, May 25th. I didn't have to stay up terrible late to get them taken care of, so that was nice compared to the previous week where between four papers, an exam, and seeing people off I had to pull a couple all-nighters. The building's on AUC's campus are mazes, and the winding stairways, random lookouts, and split-level floors reminded my of an M.C. Escher sketch. Almost all have some complex network of halls and corridors that eventually lead to roof accesses with great views of the campus. You can spot these from the ground while walking about campus, and the gazeebo type structures on the roofs cleary indicate that they were meant to be used, but finding your way up there can be difficult. One of my friends did however know how to get to the roof of the adminstration building, and from here three of us on the last day of exams on the New Campus enjoyed Stellas and looked over the campus we had called ours for the past four months. In fact, many of us hated our experiences on this campus. We all had our reasons: for some it was dealing with the ridiculous bureaucracy, or the biases of teachers, snobby students, or maybe just the long bus rides to and from campus, among other reasons. But its strange how knowing that you will never see a place again encourages you to forget the negatives and look on the place with a sense of sentimentality.
We had a nice little party the night before Sara and Ed left, although I forget exactly which day that was. It was at Mikey and Ben's apartment in Metro Towers, the giant apartment complex above the Metro Mart grocery store which I had probably been to at least once ever single day either to buy food or pull money from the ATM. The place had a wonderful view from the roof which was especially nice at night. Unfortunately I never brought my camera up there and have no pictures. The next night we met Mikey at the apartment to help him carry all of his stuff down to meet the cab. He was insistent that he leave the same way the show "Cheers" finally ended; that is, by giving the place one last hard look, turning off the lights, and closing the door for good. And then everyone fought over who got to hit the tweeting door-bell the last time.
But before Mikey left, we managed to play our first and only round of golf in Egypt. We made a tee-time at the Hilton Hotel and Dreamland Golf Resort in October City at 11 on what must have been Saturday morning. Of course, we followed the usual script when taking a cab some place we'd never been before. This always involves some poor cabbie agreeing to take you to (insert name of place) even though he has no idea where it is. He gets to the general area, follows ten sets of conflicting directions from various police officers, fellow taxi drivers, and haggs on the street, before finally finding someone who isn't merely pretending to have heard of the place, gives accurate directions, and then thirty minutes after this final set of directions you arrive. Arriving isn't always easy either because you just kind of have to assume "well this must be the place" when you pull up.
Anyway, we made it the golf course and greens fees, renting clubs, and buying balls was cheap as dirt considering we were playing on lush green fairways, at the Hilton, in the middle of the desert. We also decided to have a little fun by putting on galabiyyas and kufiyyas after we got off the first hole. Once during our nine hole round the course marshal even pulled up to us while Mikey was hitting out of the fairway thining we were Arab from a distance. I did look the part of a Saudi oil barron if I do say so myself, with my clean white galabiyya and red and white kufiyya, so I can understand his confusion. The round naturally ended at the 19th hole, where we struck it up with the bartender. We told him we were the guys out there wearing the Arab clothes and he got a good kick out of hit. He had seen us coming in since the bar's panoramic windows overlooked the 9th hole's approach to the green and he had thought that some of the groundskeepers had taken a break to play a few holes! We discussed America for a bit too and he professed his love for the culture. He liked rap and mentioned that Akon was one of his favorite artists. He also showed us a picture of his Russian girlfriend on his camera phone.
So this all happened over the weekend and by Monday I was completely finished with school. I made a trip down to campus the next day to turn in all my library books, clearing all debts to the university and allowing me to get my transcript sent to ND. Unfortunately I forgot one book and had to make the hour and half bustrip to and from school the next day, but finally all paperwork was finished and I would never be back to AUC again. At least not in the foreseeable future. At this point Julia and Jessie had left. The only remainging people were Spencer, Jim Genovese, and Ali. Taz and Michele weren't leaving until Friday, but they were in Luxor for the week. Chris was leaving with me on Saturday (the only other person of the eight from Notre Dame who did, for whatever reason, move his flight up from the Saturday May 30 flight given to us by Anthony Travel) but he was spending the week in Spain visiting some friends. Although I knew I was finishing my exams well before my flight, I had no intentions of getting the flight bumped up a couple days. I had planned on taking full advantage of a whole week with nothing to do but explore Cairo, and that's exactly what I did.
Spencer and I made a trip to Khan al-Khalili on Tuesday. It was his last I believe. He had a few items to pick up still, including a galabiyya, and I just wanted to go check on my taola (backgammon) boards. Before this day I had only ever cabbed to the Khan, but we took a route I had never taken before. We decided to take a cab to the nearest metro station, Opera, and then take the metro to Attba station. From Attba it was a twenty minute walk to the Khan. Partly I wanted to save money (a cab straight there costs 15LE, but the cab to the metro plus the metro ticket only costs 6LE) but I also wanted to do more walking in the city before I left. I find it to be a much better experience to see something on foot than by car. You are in it rather than passing through it.
After much searching, harrassment from ignored vendors, and of course bargaining, Spencer found his galabiyya. He felt he had paid way to much for it, which was probably true, but he did not pay nearly as much as I had for mine. Mark and I in Luxor, for whatever reason, decided to buy cusom-tailored galabiyyas made from the Egyptian cotton of our choosing from a tailor operating right next to the Winer Palace. Spencer's Galabiyya turned out to be pretty nice, and the more he looked at it the more he liked it. I visited Ahmed, the guy who owns the wood-working shop, and he told me the boards would be ready ba'da bookra, after tomorrow.
And now for some pictures!
Me and my Stella, from the roof of the Administration Building
View from the roof of the Admin Building
Jim, happpy to be leaving AUC for the last time ever.
The last night at Cafeteria Huria
Mark and Julia at Huria
Ed and Sara at Huria
And me
Walking from Attba to the Khan
In the Khan
Actually we'll start a little earlier than that. My last exam and paper were due Monday, May 25th. I didn't have to stay up terrible late to get them taken care of, so that was nice compared to the previous week where between four papers, an exam, and seeing people off I had to pull a couple all-nighters. The building's on AUC's campus are mazes, and the winding stairways, random lookouts, and split-level floors reminded my of an M.C. Escher sketch. Almost all have some complex network of halls and corridors that eventually lead to roof accesses with great views of the campus. You can spot these from the ground while walking about campus, and the gazeebo type structures on the roofs cleary indicate that they were meant to be used, but finding your way up there can be difficult. One of my friends did however know how to get to the roof of the adminstration building, and from here three of us on the last day of exams on the New Campus enjoyed Stellas and looked over the campus we had called ours for the past four months. In fact, many of us hated our experiences on this campus. We all had our reasons: for some it was dealing with the ridiculous bureaucracy, or the biases of teachers, snobby students, or maybe just the long bus rides to and from campus, among other reasons. But its strange how knowing that you will never see a place again encourages you to forget the negatives and look on the place with a sense of sentimentality.
We had a nice little party the night before Sara and Ed left, although I forget exactly which day that was. It was at Mikey and Ben's apartment in Metro Towers, the giant apartment complex above the Metro Mart grocery store which I had probably been to at least once ever single day either to buy food or pull money from the ATM. The place had a wonderful view from the roof which was especially nice at night. Unfortunately I never brought my camera up there and have no pictures. The next night we met Mikey at the apartment to help him carry all of his stuff down to meet the cab. He was insistent that he leave the same way the show "Cheers" finally ended; that is, by giving the place one last hard look, turning off the lights, and closing the door for good. And then everyone fought over who got to hit the tweeting door-bell the last time.
But before Mikey left, we managed to play our first and only round of golf in Egypt. We made a tee-time at the Hilton Hotel and Dreamland Golf Resort in October City at 11 on what must have been Saturday morning. Of course, we followed the usual script when taking a cab some place we'd never been before. This always involves some poor cabbie agreeing to take you to (insert name of place) even though he has no idea where it is. He gets to the general area, follows ten sets of conflicting directions from various police officers, fellow taxi drivers, and haggs on the street, before finally finding someone who isn't merely pretending to have heard of the place, gives accurate directions, and then thirty minutes after this final set of directions you arrive. Arriving isn't always easy either because you just kind of have to assume "well this must be the place" when you pull up.
Anyway, we made it the golf course and greens fees, renting clubs, and buying balls was cheap as dirt considering we were playing on lush green fairways, at the Hilton, in the middle of the desert. We also decided to have a little fun by putting on galabiyyas and kufiyyas after we got off the first hole. Once during our nine hole round the course marshal even pulled up to us while Mikey was hitting out of the fairway thining we were Arab from a distance. I did look the part of a Saudi oil barron if I do say so myself, with my clean white galabiyya and red and white kufiyya, so I can understand his confusion. The round naturally ended at the 19th hole, where we struck it up with the bartender. We told him we were the guys out there wearing the Arab clothes and he got a good kick out of hit. He had seen us coming in since the bar's panoramic windows overlooked the 9th hole's approach to the green and he had thought that some of the groundskeepers had taken a break to play a few holes! We discussed America for a bit too and he professed his love for the culture. He liked rap and mentioned that Akon was one of his favorite artists. He also showed us a picture of his Russian girlfriend on his camera phone.
So this all happened over the weekend and by Monday I was completely finished with school. I made a trip down to campus the next day to turn in all my library books, clearing all debts to the university and allowing me to get my transcript sent to ND. Unfortunately I forgot one book and had to make the hour and half bustrip to and from school the next day, but finally all paperwork was finished and I would never be back to AUC again. At least not in the foreseeable future. At this point Julia and Jessie had left. The only remainging people were Spencer, Jim Genovese, and Ali. Taz and Michele weren't leaving until Friday, but they were in Luxor for the week. Chris was leaving with me on Saturday (the only other person of the eight from Notre Dame who did, for whatever reason, move his flight up from the Saturday May 30 flight given to us by Anthony Travel) but he was spending the week in Spain visiting some friends. Although I knew I was finishing my exams well before my flight, I had no intentions of getting the flight bumped up a couple days. I had planned on taking full advantage of a whole week with nothing to do but explore Cairo, and that's exactly what I did.
Spencer and I made a trip to Khan al-Khalili on Tuesday. It was his last I believe. He had a few items to pick up still, including a galabiyya, and I just wanted to go check on my taola (backgammon) boards. Before this day I had only ever cabbed to the Khan, but we took a route I had never taken before. We decided to take a cab to the nearest metro station, Opera, and then take the metro to Attba station. From Attba it was a twenty minute walk to the Khan. Partly I wanted to save money (a cab straight there costs 15LE, but the cab to the metro plus the metro ticket only costs 6LE) but I also wanted to do more walking in the city before I left. I find it to be a much better experience to see something on foot than by car. You are in it rather than passing through it.
After much searching, harrassment from ignored vendors, and of course bargaining, Spencer found his galabiyya. He felt he had paid way to much for it, which was probably true, but he did not pay nearly as much as I had for mine. Mark and I in Luxor, for whatever reason, decided to buy cusom-tailored galabiyyas made from the Egyptian cotton of our choosing from a tailor operating right next to the Winer Palace. Spencer's Galabiyya turned out to be pretty nice, and the more he looked at it the more he liked it. I visited Ahmed, the guy who owns the wood-working shop, and he told me the boards would be ready ba'da bookra, after tomorrow.
And now for some pictures!
Me and my Stella, from the roof of the Administration Building
View from the roof of the Admin BuildingJim, happpy to be leaving AUC for the last time ever.The last night at Cafeteria HuriaMark and Julia at HuriaEd and Sara at Huria
Mikey at our Egyptian Golf Adventure
And meIn the KhanWednesday, May 27, 2009
Addendum to Beirut / Loose Ends
I finally got my transcript request form in today. I made the trip to campus yesterday to turn in my remaining library books so that I could have them sign off, authorizing that I had no more debts to the University. Unfortunately, I forgot one book, the Rough Guide to Syria and Lebanon I checked out before my trip, and I had to come all the way back to campus just to turn in one book and get the library's signature. Once I accomplished this, all I had to do was turn in my request form and now I am khalaas!
The first bus leaving from campus back to Zamalek is at 12:00, and since finishing the transcript stuff took all of twelve minutes, I have some time to kill here. Hence why I am posting right now. A usual routine for me killing time at the library computer consists of a number of things. First I will check my ND gmail, then espn.com, blueandgold.com, and facebook. If I've blogged recently I will also check to see if anyone has commented. After these sites I check nytimes.com and washingtonpost.com for the day's headlines. Then I might head upstairs to the third (second) floor where the rest of my friends congregate to do homework. Going to the top floor is usually necessary since most other parts of the library get turned into social spaces between classes.
I say third (second) floor because the weird way stories on buildings are numbered here. The ground floor of each building here is called the Plaza level, and each room number starts with P, followed by a number. The second story is floor 1, with room numbers start in the 100s. Some buildings are built into the sides of hills, like a suburban house with a walk-out basement. In a building such as this, the very bottom floor, the "walk-out basement floor," is called the Garden level. The next story is the Plaza, then the third story is the first floor. So in the library, the third story up is the second floor. My friend's apartment building is even weirder. He lives on the sixth floor, which is actually 10th story of the building. When you take the elevator down from his floor (pressing the number 6 in the elevator actually takes you to story 10), you pass below floor 1 through at least six stories all labeled as floor -1 before reaching the ground floor. These bottom floors serve as shops and offices for small businesses.
*Beirut*
I don't know that I mentioned it in the first post on Beirut, but the city center has a LOT of money. We walked by a Porsche dealership and saw two Porsche Carerras and a Mazeratti just while walking down the street. We saw another sign of the amount of money in the city next to our hostel. Everyday we would walk by a travel agency advertising deals on round-trip flights for vacations in Europe or Japan or the Caribbean. But mixed within these round-trip deal were also advertisement for great one-way rates for flights out of Manilla and Columbia. Many rich families in Beirut have maids/nannies. Sonja and I saw more than a few south asians watching over young children while their wealthy Beiruti parents were either shopping or working.
The first bus leaving from campus back to Zamalek is at 12:00, and since finishing the transcript stuff took all of twelve minutes, I have some time to kill here. Hence why I am posting right now. A usual routine for me killing time at the library computer consists of a number of things. First I will check my ND gmail, then espn.com, blueandgold.com, and facebook. If I've blogged recently I will also check to see if anyone has commented. After these sites I check nytimes.com and washingtonpost.com for the day's headlines. Then I might head upstairs to the third (second) floor where the rest of my friends congregate to do homework. Going to the top floor is usually necessary since most other parts of the library get turned into social spaces between classes.
I say third (second) floor because the weird way stories on buildings are numbered here. The ground floor of each building here is called the Plaza level, and each room number starts with P, followed by a number. The second story is floor 1, with room numbers start in the 100s. Some buildings are built into the sides of hills, like a suburban house with a walk-out basement. In a building such as this, the very bottom floor, the "walk-out basement floor," is called the Garden level. The next story is the Plaza, then the third story is the first floor. So in the library, the third story up is the second floor. My friend's apartment building is even weirder. He lives on the sixth floor, which is actually 10th story of the building. When you take the elevator down from his floor (pressing the number 6 in the elevator actually takes you to story 10), you pass below floor 1 through at least six stories all labeled as floor -1 before reaching the ground floor. These bottom floors serve as shops and offices for small businesses.
*Beirut*
I don't know that I mentioned it in the first post on Beirut, but the city center has a LOT of money. We walked by a Porsche dealership and saw two Porsche Carerras and a Mazeratti just while walking down the street. We saw another sign of the amount of money in the city next to our hostel. Everyday we would walk by a travel agency advertising deals on round-trip flights for vacations in Europe or Japan or the Caribbean. But mixed within these round-trip deal were also advertisement for great one-way rates for flights out of Manilla and Columbia. Many rich families in Beirut have maids/nannies. Sonja and I saw more than a few south asians watching over young children while their wealthy Beiruti parents were either shopping or working.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Catching Up
I finished my last exam yesterday. These last few weeks have gone by extremely fast. I finally have time to catch up on all of these posts I meant to be doing but passed up on to instead pretend to study and do homework.
This past week has been pretty tough. Between doing a paper and an exam this week, I had two exams and four papers due last week. This past week I had to finish my last two assignments while dealing with the departure of many of my good friends. Some people were finished with all of their papers and exams on the last day classes and people began leaving Saturday night. Sara and Ed left Friday night, followed by Ben and Jarvis early Saturday morning. Saturday night Jim Napier and Mark left. Julia left Monday morning while I was on campus turning in an exam, and David left that night. Basically, that aren't many of us left. Most of the people who I have grown close to over the course of this semester are now gone. Its strange how close you can get to people over the course of a semester, but I suppose a study abroad experience, especially one here, forces people to let their guards down and just be themselves. Travelling, getting lost in strange citites, trying to make sense of a different culture, these things all allowed us to really get to know each other. Without getting too nostalgic, its just a little weird being in Egypt with a good portion of the people that I spent my time with here gone. Many of us became just as close to each other as to friends at home. It feels like we've known each other for years.
The study abroad experience is much like high school or college, but fast-forwarded. We all got to know each other pretty quickly, developed inside jokes, and now at the end of it all we leave and go on to other things. Mikey and Jessie go to Navy and BC, repspectively, and they are planning on coming up to ND for those football games this upcoming season. Many of our other friends live in the North East as well, so they plan on tagging along or making sure we get together when our schools play each other in Big East basketball.
Today Spencer and I went to Khan al-Kahlili again to pick up some of the last remaining items on our souveneir lists. When I went to Islamic Cairo last weekend, I wanted to pick up another taola set. I had been there the previous Wednesday and saw one that really caught my eye, but was not planning on buying anything so did not have the money. I told the guy to hold the set for me, which he said he'd do, but when I came back last weekend he had sold it. I then commissioned a set, and hopefully it will be finished by Friday. Spencer and I paid him a visit today, just to say hi. I'm not sure if I have told this story yet, but the first time I went the Khan I was very interested in finding a taola set. After looking at a number of souvenir stalls, mark and I stumbled upon a shop stuck just below ground level built into the side of a building. It appeared though this shop made the sets, among many other wooden products, themselves and then sold them through third parties throughout the rest of the bazaar.
Mark and I probably spent a good hour in there that first day, just talking to the guy and perusing his collection of hand-made woodcrafts. Which each left with a nice taola set and from that time on, this guy has been our guy for wood products. We always make sure to stop by and say hi anytime we go to the Khan.
I've been to the Khan three times in the past three weeks. I always get really excited to go because its in the heart of the old Islamic part of the city and I like looking at all the shiny trinkets. I always leave with a headache, wondering why I was so excited to go in the first place. A trip to the bazaar takes a lot out of you. Its impossible to just walk and look, and windowshopping is always a hassle. The stall owners all interprety looking at a product or handling a product as a sign of general interest in purchasing the product. When they give you a price, unsolicited, there is always a disconnect when answering "I don't want it." They always think you don't want it because their price is too high, so they lower it. They don't understand that often the price is not the problem; the problem is that you simply don't want to buy that item.
Besides this, all the item-hawkers are pretty pushy, and haggling takes a lot of energy, especially if you want to get a good price. Anything can be obtained cheaply, but there is a standard theatere one must "perform" to make haggling work. First you have to absurdly low-ball the guy, then work your way back up to a normal range of prices. This low-balling counteracts his ridiculous mark-up, placing summer in the middle of that range the actual price you want. He'll usually come down to within a couple increments of the price you want, whether you're working in 5's or 10's or whatever. At some point he will give his so-called "best price," usually an increment or two or three above what you really want. You then restate what you want it for, he says no, and you walk away. He may call you back right away or he may let you walk a bit before catching you and bringing the price down again. You can usually walk away twice, sometimes three times, and get the price lowered further. Now you have a good price! Then you realize that you just spend the last ten minutes arguing over a 5LE difference, which amounts to $1.75. Then you feel like an idiot. Anyway, I went to the Khan the last two weekends because I was touring Islamic Cairo, where the Khan is locate. This is the oldest Islamic part of the city.
Two weekends ago Sara, Ed, and Sophie came along with me to Islamic Cairo. We only made a half day of it so we covered the northern end. The cab dropped us off near al-Azhar mosque and university and we began our tour here. As is usual in mosques, we had to take off our shoes and Sara and Sophie had to cover their heads with their scarves. Al-Azhar University is the world center of Sunni Islamic learning and is also a very important mosque. From here we continued to the al-Ghouriya mosque, a Mamluk era mosque at the head of the southern market. One time when we were in this area a guy pointed us back north, saying "There Khank al-Khalili, this not the tourist market." Egypt is frustrating at times. Very often we know what we are doing and where we are and have to put up with people trying to point is in the direction we are already going or trying to lead us to some touristy site we are totally uninterested in. Anyway, we continuted south down this street, Al-Muizz li Din Allah, until reaching Bab Zuwayla. This is an old medieval-era gate, complete with towers and parapets and giant wooden doors. We climbed the tower, which required some athleticism at the top, and got a wonderful view of Islamic Cairo. We could see north to Al-Azhar and south to the Citadel.
Sophie and Sara stopped in the market to buy some of the colorfully patterned cloth used for decoration in Egypt. After this we walked back north past Al-Azhar and followed the street through Khan al-Khalili. We stopped at the mausoleum and madrassa of Al Nasir Muhammad and of Sultan Qalawun, then continued north to the mosque of Al-Hakim, the Caliph of the Fatimid Empire who proclaimed divinity for himself and whose heterodox religious teachings helped foudn the Druze faith. We then finished our day at the medieval gate of Bab al-Futuh, counterpart of Bab Zuawayla. This all occurred three weekends ago, so I'm hazy on the details still unfortunately...
Last weekend I tagged along on Jessie and Julia's Islamic Art and Architecture field trip to the citadel. I had not toured any of Islamic Cairo at that point and needed to fit it in before leaving. The fieldtrip was a great opportunity because I got into the complex for free and their professor's lectures at each site essentially amounted to a free tour for me. She also got us access to some places tourists couldn't normally go. It was also a good opportunity because all of my other friends here had already gone earlier in the semester. The field trip kind of ensured that there would be people to come tour with me. Spencer and Jim came too, because they never made it this far when they came to Islamic Cairo. They were accused of being Jews by an old hagg and watched her chew out the guy who had let them into a mosque. They called it at day after that. So Spencer, Jim, and I walked the half-mile to the mosque of Ahmad ibn Tulun, the oldest mosque in Cairo. Its doors opened in 876. Disappointingly, I left my Egypt guidebook behind this day. I knew where I wanted to go and how to get there, so I saw no sense in taking along anything other than a street map. Had a brought the book, I would have known that we missed the best part of going to ibn-Tulun mosque: the adjacent 16th century house-turned-museum. The book calls it an Orientalist's fantasy almost more worth seeing than the mosque itself, complete with intricate artwork, secret viewing galleries, porticos looking over open courtyards with fountains, and winding passageways. We also passed up the worth-while Museum of Islamic Art due to time constraints. I didn't sense much interest in going there anyway (as I said, being in this area for too long, including the Khan which we were headed to next, makes for a very long day). Perhaps I will go back to these places in these last three full days I have here. The mosque was impressive considering the time period in which it was built and the fact that Christians were still a vast majority in Egypt at the time of its construction.
We cabbed from ibn-Tulun to Midan al-Hussein, the starting point for all of our ventures into Khan al-Kahlili. Spencer and Jim had not been to Al-Azhar yet, so we stopped here one more time. Then I showed them how to get to a book-binding store Mark, Mikey, and I had found the preceding Wednesday. They sell leather- and cloth-bound books and custom engrave them with gold leafing. Thus began another tiring day in Khan al-Khalili. It was these day that I found out our friend in the woodshop had sold the taola that I promised him I would return for. He apologized, saying the guy gave him a very generous offer. Oh well.
I have three more days here and lots of packing to do. I hope to see some of these last few things on my list before leaving, never knowing when or if I will ever return. Well I guess that last statement was a little dramatic but I probably won't be back for a while and I don't want to leave with any regrets.
This past week has been pretty tough. Between doing a paper and an exam this week, I had two exams and four papers due last week. This past week I had to finish my last two assignments while dealing with the departure of many of my good friends. Some people were finished with all of their papers and exams on the last day classes and people began leaving Saturday night. Sara and Ed left Friday night, followed by Ben and Jarvis early Saturday morning. Saturday night Jim Napier and Mark left. Julia left Monday morning while I was on campus turning in an exam, and David left that night. Basically, that aren't many of us left. Most of the people who I have grown close to over the course of this semester are now gone. Its strange how close you can get to people over the course of a semester, but I suppose a study abroad experience, especially one here, forces people to let their guards down and just be themselves. Travelling, getting lost in strange citites, trying to make sense of a different culture, these things all allowed us to really get to know each other. Without getting too nostalgic, its just a little weird being in Egypt with a good portion of the people that I spent my time with here gone. Many of us became just as close to each other as to friends at home. It feels like we've known each other for years.
The study abroad experience is much like high school or college, but fast-forwarded. We all got to know each other pretty quickly, developed inside jokes, and now at the end of it all we leave and go on to other things. Mikey and Jessie go to Navy and BC, repspectively, and they are planning on coming up to ND for those football games this upcoming season. Many of our other friends live in the North East as well, so they plan on tagging along or making sure we get together when our schools play each other in Big East basketball.
Today Spencer and I went to Khan al-Kahlili again to pick up some of the last remaining items on our souveneir lists. When I went to Islamic Cairo last weekend, I wanted to pick up another taola set. I had been there the previous Wednesday and saw one that really caught my eye, but was not planning on buying anything so did not have the money. I told the guy to hold the set for me, which he said he'd do, but when I came back last weekend he had sold it. I then commissioned a set, and hopefully it will be finished by Friday. Spencer and I paid him a visit today, just to say hi. I'm not sure if I have told this story yet, but the first time I went the Khan I was very interested in finding a taola set. After looking at a number of souvenir stalls, mark and I stumbled upon a shop stuck just below ground level built into the side of a building. It appeared though this shop made the sets, among many other wooden products, themselves and then sold them through third parties throughout the rest of the bazaar.
Mark and I probably spent a good hour in there that first day, just talking to the guy and perusing his collection of hand-made woodcrafts. Which each left with a nice taola set and from that time on, this guy has been our guy for wood products. We always make sure to stop by and say hi anytime we go to the Khan.
I've been to the Khan three times in the past three weeks. I always get really excited to go because its in the heart of the old Islamic part of the city and I like looking at all the shiny trinkets. I always leave with a headache, wondering why I was so excited to go in the first place. A trip to the bazaar takes a lot out of you. Its impossible to just walk and look, and windowshopping is always a hassle. The stall owners all interprety looking at a product or handling a product as a sign of general interest in purchasing the product. When they give you a price, unsolicited, there is always a disconnect when answering "I don't want it." They always think you don't want it because their price is too high, so they lower it. They don't understand that often the price is not the problem; the problem is that you simply don't want to buy that item.
Besides this, all the item-hawkers are pretty pushy, and haggling takes a lot of energy, especially if you want to get a good price. Anything can be obtained cheaply, but there is a standard theatere one must "perform" to make haggling work. First you have to absurdly low-ball the guy, then work your way back up to a normal range of prices. This low-balling counteracts his ridiculous mark-up, placing summer in the middle of that range the actual price you want. He'll usually come down to within a couple increments of the price you want, whether you're working in 5's or 10's or whatever. At some point he will give his so-called "best price," usually an increment or two or three above what you really want. You then restate what you want it for, he says no, and you walk away. He may call you back right away or he may let you walk a bit before catching you and bringing the price down again. You can usually walk away twice, sometimes three times, and get the price lowered further. Now you have a good price! Then you realize that you just spend the last ten minutes arguing over a 5LE difference, which amounts to $1.75. Then you feel like an idiot. Anyway, I went to the Khan the last two weekends because I was touring Islamic Cairo, where the Khan is locate. This is the oldest Islamic part of the city.
Two weekends ago Sara, Ed, and Sophie came along with me to Islamic Cairo. We only made a half day of it so we covered the northern end. The cab dropped us off near al-Azhar mosque and university and we began our tour here. As is usual in mosques, we had to take off our shoes and Sara and Sophie had to cover their heads with their scarves. Al-Azhar University is the world center of Sunni Islamic learning and is also a very important mosque. From here we continued to the al-Ghouriya mosque, a Mamluk era mosque at the head of the southern market. One time when we were in this area a guy pointed us back north, saying "There Khank al-Khalili, this not the tourist market." Egypt is frustrating at times. Very often we know what we are doing and where we are and have to put up with people trying to point is in the direction we are already going or trying to lead us to some touristy site we are totally uninterested in. Anyway, we continuted south down this street, Al-Muizz li Din Allah, until reaching Bab Zuwayla. This is an old medieval-era gate, complete with towers and parapets and giant wooden doors. We climbed the tower, which required some athleticism at the top, and got a wonderful view of Islamic Cairo. We could see north to Al-Azhar and south to the Citadel.
Sophie and Sara stopped in the market to buy some of the colorfully patterned cloth used for decoration in Egypt. After this we walked back north past Al-Azhar and followed the street through Khan al-Khalili. We stopped at the mausoleum and madrassa of Al Nasir Muhammad and of Sultan Qalawun, then continued north to the mosque of Al-Hakim, the Caliph of the Fatimid Empire who proclaimed divinity for himself and whose heterodox religious teachings helped foudn the Druze faith. We then finished our day at the medieval gate of Bab al-Futuh, counterpart of Bab Zuawayla. This all occurred three weekends ago, so I'm hazy on the details still unfortunately...
Last weekend I tagged along on Jessie and Julia's Islamic Art and Architecture field trip to the citadel. I had not toured any of Islamic Cairo at that point and needed to fit it in before leaving. The fieldtrip was a great opportunity because I got into the complex for free and their professor's lectures at each site essentially amounted to a free tour for me. She also got us access to some places tourists couldn't normally go. It was also a good opportunity because all of my other friends here had already gone earlier in the semester. The field trip kind of ensured that there would be people to come tour with me. Spencer and Jim came too, because they never made it this far when they came to Islamic Cairo. They were accused of being Jews by an old hagg and watched her chew out the guy who had let them into a mosque. They called it at day after that. So Spencer, Jim, and I walked the half-mile to the mosque of Ahmad ibn Tulun, the oldest mosque in Cairo. Its doors opened in 876. Disappointingly, I left my Egypt guidebook behind this day. I knew where I wanted to go and how to get there, so I saw no sense in taking along anything other than a street map. Had a brought the book, I would have known that we missed the best part of going to ibn-Tulun mosque: the adjacent 16th century house-turned-museum. The book calls it an Orientalist's fantasy almost more worth seeing than the mosque itself, complete with intricate artwork, secret viewing galleries, porticos looking over open courtyards with fountains, and winding passageways. We also passed up the worth-while Museum of Islamic Art due to time constraints. I didn't sense much interest in going there anyway (as I said, being in this area for too long, including the Khan which we were headed to next, makes for a very long day). Perhaps I will go back to these places in these last three full days I have here. The mosque was impressive considering the time period in which it was built and the fact that Christians were still a vast majority in Egypt at the time of its construction.
We cabbed from ibn-Tulun to Midan al-Hussein, the starting point for all of our ventures into Khan al-Kahlili. Spencer and Jim had not been to Al-Azhar yet, so we stopped here one more time. Then I showed them how to get to a book-binding store Mark, Mikey, and I had found the preceding Wednesday. They sell leather- and cloth-bound books and custom engrave them with gold leafing. Thus began another tiring day in Khan al-Khalili. It was these day that I found out our friend in the woodshop had sold the taola that I promised him I would return for. He apologized, saying the guy gave him a very generous offer. Oh well.
I have three more days here and lots of packing to do. I hope to see some of these last few things on my list before leaving, never knowing when or if I will ever return. Well I guess that last statement was a little dramatic but I probably won't be back for a while and I don't want to leave with any regrets.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Lebanon
I've been real busy with school lately so I havn't been updating the blog as much as I would like, but here I will hopefully be able to fill everybody in on the last real exciting weekend trip of the semester. This focus on the major events is coming at the expense of some of the less immediately impressive trips and incidents in Cairo, which is a shame because I think these paint a good picture of eveyday life here. Hopefully I will remember enough about them to set out the details later.
As noted earlier, Sonja and I had intended to go to Lebanon the weekend after springbreak. Unfortunately, we missed our flight at had to move the trip back one weekend. This time we arrived at the airport well in advance of our flight. Here we picked up some cheap Cuban cigars at the Duty Free store for the simple novelty of having them, since the US obviously still has a trade embargo on Cuba.
The flight was short, barely over an hour, and we arrived in Beirut around 8pm. I was unsure as to what line to get in at customs because no one was working the passport booth selling Lebanese visas. I asked an official where I needed to go to get my visa and he asked me my nationality. I said American, and he responded, "You can stand wherever you like." Americans are positiviely racially profiled in much of the region, sometimes to ironic results. For example, today I went to Midan (Square) Husayn in Islamic Cairo and they had stepped up security since the minor bombing back in February. We were waiting in line while they were checking everyone's bags, but they just waved me, Spencer, and Jim through since we were white tourists, and hence obviously not a threat. Mikey commented on this when we were down there last week, finding it funny how the Egyptian security forces negatively racially profiled their own citizens.
Once through customs, we changed our money into Lebanese Lira (1500 to $1) and grabbed a cab to the American University in Beirut Hostel. The cab charged us an exorbitant fare and we later found out that a cartel runs the cab services from the airport. People have been charged up to $100, but we managed to get the "low" price of $56. This was a shock coming from Cairo where a cab ride from the airport costs 50LE (under $10).
The AUB Hostel was simple and clean and conveniently located just across the street from the main gates of AUB in the heart of West Beirut. We were a little overwhelmed the first night in Beirut. We could handle impoverished, third-world type stuff, but Beirut was modern, bright, clean. It reminded me a lot of Charleston. It was just a brand new city very unlike the one in which I am used to living. Sonja has a friend she met at an academic conference over the summer who works at a TV station on Lebanon's most-watched nightly news program. We met up with him for dinner and let him drives around the city. We felt much better after this. It helped us get oriented with the city and let us know that we had somebody we could call if we needed anything.
Most interesting about this car ride was that Philipe (Sonja's friend) was working his phone in order to get guests for the next days show. But these weren't just any guests; they were the four generals that had just been released from prison that day, arrested for alleged complicity in the assasination of president Rafik Hairi in 2005. We listened in as he called his connections, looking for people who had any way of contacting these generals and getting them on his show. He found the number for one of the general's homes or his wife's cell-phone (I don't know which, I recall only that his wife answered) and put the call on speaker, and we listened as he spoke the general and he agreed to join the next day's show.
In these phone calls, Philipe used a mixture of Arabic, English, and French. This is common throughout much of Lebanon. On all of my previous flights on Egypt air, the safety instructions and cabin announcements were made in both Arabic and Englihs. Only on the flight to Lebanon was French added to this list. The French held Lebanon and Syria as imperial posessions (under the mandate guise) for much of the early twentieth century. The French language has been preserved there since that time. English has now also made its impact. Almost all of Lebanon's upper classes know French, as do the educated youth. The wealthy youth also seem to have a pretty international orientation. We went to a bar one night that reminded me more of a coffeehouse than a pub. It had comfy chairs and shelves full of books, and on the wall an old black and white French film whose main character was involved in mobilizing the laboring classes was being projected. They played a mixture of Arabic, French, and English pop, and while many Egyptian youth try to replicate American and European culture and styles, the Lebanese youth seemed be buying into an authentic copy and rather than cheap imitations here in Cairo.
The first morning we took a cab to Daorra, on the north side of the city I'm assuming, and from there hopped on the bus to Tripoli. The ride took longer than expected because it wasn't direct and stopped frequently, letting people on and off, until we made it out of the city and through the hills over to Tripoli. Tripoli is a fascinating city historically because of the number of different rulers it has had. The area has been controlled by the Ummayed Empire, the Crusaders, the Mamluks, the Ottomans, the French, and now the Lebanese themselves. A number of the mosques we toured there were built originally as churches and had switched denominations multiple times depending on the changing rulers and demographics until finally becoming mosques.
As soon as we stepped off the bus we were met by an old Tripolian offering to show us around. He had maps and said he was from the Tripoli tourism department. He seemed believable but we are generally pretty wary of people in Egypt, especailly the extremely forward ones, and we carried this attitude over to Lebanon. We had him direct us to a good restaurant and declined his invitation for a guided tour. We decided we could find our way around just fine.
Most of the historically interesting sites in Tripoli are in the Medieval section, making a map almost useless since the streets and alleyways are haphazardly laid out often not even named. However, our first stop was the citadel, which was easy to spot on the hill overlooking the streets below. We found our way up to it and got some great views of the city. We were the only two tourists there until the very end, when two more people showed up. A row of armored Lebanese army vehicles were parked outside the main entrance and there were officers posted throughout the complex. We found no guides or information plaques on the inside, so all I really know about the citadel is that its a castle-looking thing that has a canon on its roof somewhere. And it is presumably centuries old. I'm sure I could look up the information somewhere but that would just take too much effort, wouldn't it?
Leaving the citadel was when the adventure began. The rest of our sites were located in the city below where street names and maps were painfully unhelpful. We wandered around looking for the Great Mosque for twenty minutes when the map showed it being right next to the citadel.. As it turns out, we had walked past it twice. The problem was that its name made it sound a lot greater in appearance than it actually was and we reasoned that the small mosque we kept passing was obviously not the "Great Mosque." While trying to find this mosque we ran into our friend from the bus stop again. Realizing how difficult (and uniformative) it would be getting around Tripoli on our own, we decided to give him a chance. This turned out to be the best part of the trip.
I forget the man's name, but he is listed in the latest Lonely Planet edition for Lebanon. As it turns out he (by his own claim) is the best and most famous tour guide in Tripoli. Just the weekk before he had given a tour to some city offiicial of Venice, Italy. To prove his point, he showed us four business cards left to him by some of his more prominent clients. Today was our lucky day, because we were getting a free tour. It used to be that you would have to call days in advance to schedule a tour with him, but after 9/11 tourism to Lebanon was cut in half. After Hezbollah's increased activity in 2006, tourism was halved again. Instead, he was now staking out the bus stop praying for tourists to show just so he could have somebody to show around. Today we had a free tour for as long as we wanted. He took a lot of pride in his city and just wanted the chance to show it off. I think he was just excited to have some work, especially from Americans, who I'm sure he doesn't get much of a chance to give tours to these days.
Tripoli from the top of the Citadel
Ads for the elections in June
One of the many churhc-turned-mosuqe-turned-church-turned mosques
Proof that the soap was hand made
Sonja in one of the shops making modern use of an old building
The Mediterranean and Beiruti suburbs on the hills behind it
The brand new mosque, viewed from a church near the new square
As noted earlier, Sonja and I had intended to go to Lebanon the weekend after springbreak. Unfortunately, we missed our flight at had to move the trip back one weekend. This time we arrived at the airport well in advance of our flight. Here we picked up some cheap Cuban cigars at the Duty Free store for the simple novelty of having them, since the US obviously still has a trade embargo on Cuba.
The flight was short, barely over an hour, and we arrived in Beirut around 8pm. I was unsure as to what line to get in at customs because no one was working the passport booth selling Lebanese visas. I asked an official where I needed to go to get my visa and he asked me my nationality. I said American, and he responded, "You can stand wherever you like." Americans are positiviely racially profiled in much of the region, sometimes to ironic results. For example, today I went to Midan (Square) Husayn in Islamic Cairo and they had stepped up security since the minor bombing back in February. We were waiting in line while they were checking everyone's bags, but they just waved me, Spencer, and Jim through since we were white tourists, and hence obviously not a threat. Mikey commented on this when we were down there last week, finding it funny how the Egyptian security forces negatively racially profiled their own citizens.
Once through customs, we changed our money into Lebanese Lira (1500 to $1) and grabbed a cab to the American University in Beirut Hostel. The cab charged us an exorbitant fare and we later found out that a cartel runs the cab services from the airport. People have been charged up to $100, but we managed to get the "low" price of $56. This was a shock coming from Cairo where a cab ride from the airport costs 50LE (under $10).
The AUB Hostel was simple and clean and conveniently located just across the street from the main gates of AUB in the heart of West Beirut. We were a little overwhelmed the first night in Beirut. We could handle impoverished, third-world type stuff, but Beirut was modern, bright, clean. It reminded me a lot of Charleston. It was just a brand new city very unlike the one in which I am used to living. Sonja has a friend she met at an academic conference over the summer who works at a TV station on Lebanon's most-watched nightly news program. We met up with him for dinner and let him drives around the city. We felt much better after this. It helped us get oriented with the city and let us know that we had somebody we could call if we needed anything.
Most interesting about this car ride was that Philipe (Sonja's friend) was working his phone in order to get guests for the next days show. But these weren't just any guests; they were the four generals that had just been released from prison that day, arrested for alleged complicity in the assasination of president Rafik Hairi in 2005. We listened in as he called his connections, looking for people who had any way of contacting these generals and getting them on his show. He found the number for one of the general's homes or his wife's cell-phone (I don't know which, I recall only that his wife answered) and put the call on speaker, and we listened as he spoke the general and he agreed to join the next day's show.
In these phone calls, Philipe used a mixture of Arabic, English, and French. This is common throughout much of Lebanon. On all of my previous flights on Egypt air, the safety instructions and cabin announcements were made in both Arabic and Englihs. Only on the flight to Lebanon was French added to this list. The French held Lebanon and Syria as imperial posessions (under the mandate guise) for much of the early twentieth century. The French language has been preserved there since that time. English has now also made its impact. Almost all of Lebanon's upper classes know French, as do the educated youth. The wealthy youth also seem to have a pretty international orientation. We went to a bar one night that reminded me more of a coffeehouse than a pub. It had comfy chairs and shelves full of books, and on the wall an old black and white French film whose main character was involved in mobilizing the laboring classes was being projected. They played a mixture of Arabic, French, and English pop, and while many Egyptian youth try to replicate American and European culture and styles, the Lebanese youth seemed be buying into an authentic copy and rather than cheap imitations here in Cairo.
The first morning we took a cab to Daorra, on the north side of the city I'm assuming, and from there hopped on the bus to Tripoli. The ride took longer than expected because it wasn't direct and stopped frequently, letting people on and off, until we made it out of the city and through the hills over to Tripoli. Tripoli is a fascinating city historically because of the number of different rulers it has had. The area has been controlled by the Ummayed Empire, the Crusaders, the Mamluks, the Ottomans, the French, and now the Lebanese themselves. A number of the mosques we toured there were built originally as churches and had switched denominations multiple times depending on the changing rulers and demographics until finally becoming mosques.
As soon as we stepped off the bus we were met by an old Tripolian offering to show us around. He had maps and said he was from the Tripoli tourism department. He seemed believable but we are generally pretty wary of people in Egypt, especailly the extremely forward ones, and we carried this attitude over to Lebanon. We had him direct us to a good restaurant and declined his invitation for a guided tour. We decided we could find our way around just fine.
Most of the historically interesting sites in Tripoli are in the Medieval section, making a map almost useless since the streets and alleyways are haphazardly laid out often not even named. However, our first stop was the citadel, which was easy to spot on the hill overlooking the streets below. We found our way up to it and got some great views of the city. We were the only two tourists there until the very end, when two more people showed up. A row of armored Lebanese army vehicles were parked outside the main entrance and there were officers posted throughout the complex. We found no guides or information plaques on the inside, so all I really know about the citadel is that its a castle-looking thing that has a canon on its roof somewhere. And it is presumably centuries old. I'm sure I could look up the information somewhere but that would just take too much effort, wouldn't it?
Leaving the citadel was when the adventure began. The rest of our sites were located in the city below where street names and maps were painfully unhelpful. We wandered around looking for the Great Mosque for twenty minutes when the map showed it being right next to the citadel.. As it turns out, we had walked past it twice. The problem was that its name made it sound a lot greater in appearance than it actually was and we reasoned that the small mosque we kept passing was obviously not the "Great Mosque." While trying to find this mosque we ran into our friend from the bus stop again. Realizing how difficult (and uniformative) it would be getting around Tripoli on our own, we decided to give him a chance. This turned out to be the best part of the trip.
I forget the man's name, but he is listed in the latest Lonely Planet edition for Lebanon. As it turns out he (by his own claim) is the best and most famous tour guide in Tripoli. Just the weekk before he had given a tour to some city offiicial of Venice, Italy. To prove his point, he showed us four business cards left to him by some of his more prominent clients. Today was our lucky day, because we were getting a free tour. It used to be that you would have to call days in advance to schedule a tour with him, but after 9/11 tourism to Lebanon was cut in half. After Hezbollah's increased activity in 2006, tourism was halved again. Instead, he was now staking out the bus stop praying for tourists to show just so he could have somebody to show around. Today we had a free tour for as long as we wanted. He took a lot of pride in his city and just wanted the chance to show it off. I think he was just excited to have some work, especially from Americans, who I'm sure he doesn't get much of a chance to give tours to these days.
Tripoli from the top of the CitadelAds for the elections in JuneHe was wonderful because he helped us get to all the sites we wanted, gave us lots of information on them, and got us into places we never would have been willing or able to enter. At the great mosque he got us access to the hall they were refurbishing, which was supposed to be kept closed to all until its grand reoppening the next month. After this we went to two madrassas (means both school and religious school) and their adjoining mosques. Now you can normally tour most mosques, especially those listed on tourist maps as these were. But this is much easier in Cairo where you are one among 20 or 30 other tourists. In Tripoli, we were the only tourists at these mosques making it a little more awkward. We would have most likely felt too uncomfortable walking around a holy place taking pictures among praying people had we not been accompanied by this well-respected tour guide.
One of the many churhc-turned-mosuqe-turned-church-turned mosquesProof that the soap was hand made Sonja in one of the shops making modern use of an old building In addition to these buildings, he helped us navigate Tripoli's famous souks and took us to the second floor of an old caravanasa where a man operates a shop hand-making and carving olive oil soap. On one of the pillars was an intricately carved Star of David. Our guide emphasized the religious diversity of Tripoli (and Lebanon). He said that Jews should be just as welcome as Christians and Muslims and confessed that his personal beliefs borrowed aspects of all three religious categories. He mentioned the Hezbollah "victory" in Tripoli in 2006, and said that this was no victory at all. They claim they are fighting on behalf of the people but they only divide. He cited the mass exodus of Americans, at the behest of the State Department, following Hezbollah's disturbances in 2006.
Sonja in the reataurant in which we ended our day in Beirut
The day in Tripoli ended at a great Lebanese restuarant. We then caught the bus back to Beirut and took it easy for the night. We had heard that Beirut had incredible night life but we were pretty tired and instead made it an early night. The next day we spent walking around the city of Beirut. After leaving the hostel we made our way to the corniche and walked along the mediterranean until turning back into the city to find the tourist information center. This turned out be more difficult to find than we expected, but we got a good chance to walk around Soldiere. Soldiere is a section central Beirut that was reduced to rubble during the 1975-1990 civil war. The city has initiated a massive redevelopment project to rebuild this section, and today it is almost completely filled with modern glass and steel high rises. Every now and then though we could spot a few buildings yet to be restored. Before we had reached soldiere we passed the blown out skeleton the St. George Hotel and the building facing it across the street. This is where president Rafik Hariri was assasinated in 2005. In the soldiere district we also saw the remains of a church. Some of the older stone building, like churches, still bore the marks of the civil war. A very strong polic/military presence was maintained within this district. They also highly discouraged the taking of pictures. Perhaps they wanted people to get over their violent past, or maybe they felt that if every tourist came back only with picures of building with bullet holes would misrepresent the city. Either way, we'll see whether Beirut, and Lebanon, can keep its past behind it in the upcoming June elections.
The Mediterranean and Beiruti suburbs on the hills behind itBlast damage from the bomb that killed Rafik Hariri. His son's party would win the June elections.
The brand new mosque, viewed from a church near the new squareWe had lunch in an upscale, brand new square near this area. In the center is a stone clocktower and the streets that intersect at this square are lined with outdoor cafes and shops. We then walked from here to a Bay Rock Cafe, a cafe on the west side of the city overlooking the Mediterranean and Pigeon Rocks, two famous rock formations with arches carved through their bases. We rested back at the hostel and managed to make it out that night. This is when we found the bar I was speaking about earlier. East Beirut is supposed to have great clubs, but niether of us were exactly in a clubbing mood and the cab and cover likely would have been pretty expensive.
On our the next and final day we cabbed over to the Musee National de Beyruth (National Museum of Beirut). The place was fascinating. It had Phoenician, Greek, Roman, Byzantine, Islamic, Crusader, Mamluk, and Ottoman artifacts. One of the most interesting parts was a movie about the museum during the war. The small artifacts were all evacuated and the more immobile ones were cased in concrete boxes. It detailed the damage the building experienced during the war and showed the reopening of the concrete boxes. Inside the musuem was also a melted concoction of rock, glass, and metal. This was what the intense heat caused by fires in the museum during the war turned an artifcat into. The day ended back in the same square we were in the previous day. We got lunch and some last-minute souveneirs and then walked back to the AUB hostel. There we picked up our bags and cabbed to the airport. Along the way we saw a number of signs advertising Hezbollah for the upcoming elections. We arrived back in Cairo around 11pm, just in time to do my homework for the weekend.
Just for fun, an excerpt from the State Department travel warning regarding Lebanon, updated two weeks after our trip:
"May 13, 2009
The Department of State continues to urge U.S. citizens to avoid all travel to Lebanon due to current safety and security concerns. Americans presently living and working in Lebanon should understand that they accept risks in remaining and should carefully consider those risks. This supersedes the Travel Warning issued on September 10, 2008 and updates information on security threats and ongoing political violence in Lebanon.
While Lebanon enjoys periods of relative calm, the potential for a spontaneous upsurge in violence is real. Lebanese government authorities are not able to guarantee protection for citizens or visitors to the country should violence erupt suddenly. U.S. Embassy personnel practice strict security precautions at all times. Access to borders and ports can be interrupted with little or no warning. Under such circumstances, travel of U.S. Embassy personnel would likely be restricted further, hindering their ability to reach travelers or provide emergency services.
Clashes in the northern city of Tripoli in 2008 resulted in more than twenty fatalities and numerous injuries. Additionally, a bomb exploded next to a city bus in Tripoli on August 13, 2008, killing fourteen people. The U.S. Embassy recommends that U.S. citizens in Tripoli consider these risks in light of past events.
On May 7, 2008, Hizballah militants blocked the road to Rafiq Hariri International Airport. The action rendered the airport inaccessible and travelers were unable to enter or leave the country via commercial air carriers. Armed Hizballah and other opposition members proceeded to enter areas of Lebanon not traditionally under their control, resulting in heavy fighting and a number of casualties. Full access to the airport was restored on May 21, 2008 when hostilities subsided. However, the United States remains concerned about the potential for violence, with little or no warning.
The threat of anti-Western terrorist activity exists in Lebanon; groups such as Al-Qaeda and Jund al-Sham are present in the country and have issued statements calling for attacks against Western interests in the past.
Landmines and unexploded ordnance continually pose significant dangers throughout southern Lebanon, particularly south of the Litani River, as well as in areas of the country where civil war fighting was intense. More than a dozen civilians have been killed and over 100 injured by unexploded ordnance following the armed conflict in July-August 2006. Travelers should watch for posted landmine warnings and strictly avoid all areas where landmines and unexploded ordnance may be present."
**I worked on this post three different times over the past week because I never had the time to sit and write it all at once. Some information may be repeated, and it is definitely not proof-read.**
Just for fun, an excerpt from the State Department travel warning regarding Lebanon, updated two weeks after our trip:
"May 13, 2009
The Department of State continues to urge U.S. citizens to avoid all travel to Lebanon due to current safety and security concerns. Americans presently living and working in Lebanon should understand that they accept risks in remaining and should carefully consider those risks. This supersedes the Travel Warning issued on September 10, 2008 and updates information on security threats and ongoing political violence in Lebanon.
While Lebanon enjoys periods of relative calm, the potential for a spontaneous upsurge in violence is real. Lebanese government authorities are not able to guarantee protection for citizens or visitors to the country should violence erupt suddenly. U.S. Embassy personnel practice strict security precautions at all times. Access to borders and ports can be interrupted with little or no warning. Under such circumstances, travel of U.S. Embassy personnel would likely be restricted further, hindering their ability to reach travelers or provide emergency services.
Clashes in the northern city of Tripoli in 2008 resulted in more than twenty fatalities and numerous injuries. Additionally, a bomb exploded next to a city bus in Tripoli on August 13, 2008, killing fourteen people. The U.S. Embassy recommends that U.S. citizens in Tripoli consider these risks in light of past events.
On May 7, 2008, Hizballah militants blocked the road to Rafiq Hariri International Airport. The action rendered the airport inaccessible and travelers were unable to enter or leave the country via commercial air carriers. Armed Hizballah and other opposition members proceeded to enter areas of Lebanon not traditionally under their control, resulting in heavy fighting and a number of casualties. Full access to the airport was restored on May 21, 2008 when hostilities subsided. However, the United States remains concerned about the potential for violence, with little or no warning.
The threat of anti-Western terrorist activity exists in Lebanon; groups such as Al-Qaeda and Jund al-Sham are present in the country and have issued statements calling for attacks against Western interests in the past.
Landmines and unexploded ordnance continually pose significant dangers throughout southern Lebanon, particularly south of the Litani River, as well as in areas of the country where civil war fighting was intense. More than a dozen civilians have been killed and over 100 injured by unexploded ordnance following the armed conflict in July-August 2006. Travelers should watch for posted landmine warnings and strictly avoid all areas where landmines and unexploded ordnance may be present."
**I worked on this post three different times over the past week because I never had the time to sit and write it all at once. Some information may be repeated, and it is definitely not proof-read.**
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Spring Break '09: Kenya
So I am still really behind on my posts. My 9:30 class was cancelled and my next class isn't until 2:30, so maybe I can get a few more up here. This one covers my spring break in Kenya.
Early on in the semester, I'm talking February here, Chris decided he wanted to do a Safari in Kenya for spring break. A lot of ideas had been floated about spring break ideas, and Egypt's central location on the Mediterranean made travel to just about any part of the Levant, North Africa, or Europe feasible. Most of the people I hang around with decided to loop through Lebanon, Syria, Jordan, and Israel/Palestine on their way back to Cairo. I had a lot of interest in this sort of trip and to be completely honest I'm a little jealous, but the opportunity to safari in Kenya arose early and I had a good think about it. The rationale behind making a whirlwind tour through the Levant was that this might be the only time we are all in the Middle East, so we better see as much of it as we can; but seeing that we are all majoring in PoliSci, IR, Middle Eastern History and the like, I doubt that this will be our only time here. In the end, I chose the safari precisely because it was different. I've never studied sub-Saharan Africa, so I thought it would be great to take the opportunity to travel to Kenya I don't know that I will have that many more chances to go on a safari. I also felt it would be little foolish to live in Africa for four months without having seen any of "real" Africa (see my conversations with Dambik and Madit in previous posts).
We flew out of Cairo on April 12th at 10:30pm. I wasn't feeling to well and had to step outside during the Easter Vigil mass the night before after eating some bad shakshouka. We arrived at 4:30am Nairobi time and the safari company, Kenia Tours and Safaris, met us at the airport and took us to our hotel. Since we had gotten in so late (or early, I suppose), Chris and Matt slept until 1 in the afternoon. I, however, woke up at 10 and couldn't get back to sleep. Instead I watched some Kenyan television. The programming was somewhat strange. I watched Diseny's Hercules from about 10 to 12, which was followed by a show that did 15 minute profiles of "Great Men in History," which was then followed by Glory, the Civil War flick starring Matthew Broderick, Denzel Washington and Morgan Freeman. In any case, we woke up late, didn't finish lunch until about 3, and were all feeling pretty lethargic. We just napped after lunch and then got dinner and a few Tuskers (Kenya's self-styled national beer) before going back to bed. We had an entire day in Nairobi and spent it in the hotel.
David, our guide for the week, picked us up from the hotel at 8:30 the next morning after breakfast. We made a quick stop in Nairobi's central district to pick up water for the week and toilet paper. Nairobi made a huge impression on us. The streets were clean and wide, the air fresh, and the architecture modern and attractive. It really contrasted Cairo, although I guess having 14 million fewer people than Cairo gives Nairobi an edge in the sanitation department. Nairobi does have its darker side though. It has two of Afirca's largest slums and walking the streets after dark is just an invitation to get mugged. But in terms of the dowtown area, Nairobi was a beautiful city. And unlike Cairo, we were pretty much ignored. As a white foreigner walking in downtown Cairo, one can exepect someone to proclaim "Welcome to Egypt!" and try to give you best price at his uncle's perfume shop at least once every two minutes. In Nairobi, even though we were the only white people in sight, no one looked at us twice. I loved it.
We finished picking up a weeks worth of water before David returned from buying food for our meals, so we got into a conversation with company's secretary who had accompanied us to the city. She asked where we were from and we explained that we were studying in Cairo until May. She asked us how we liked Cairo and, since we were reveling in Nairobi's beauty, we gave her a pretty harsh critique of Cairo and its dirtiness, pollution, overcrowding, and abrasiveness. This sparked her to respond "Is there lots of Islamic there?" We said "yes," and she replied, "This is why." She said this lightheartedly so I got the impression it was more of a joke than anything else, but it was interesting to hear after spending so much time in an Islamic country. At the same time, it could reflect political issues in neighboring states such as Sudan or Somalia where some factions are organized around Islam (to put the situations simply).
Just outside the city we stopped at an overlook of the Great Rift Valley. The view was incredible. I couldn't even fathom the distances I was able to see looking across the vast plains that lay below me. It truly is natural wonder. After buying some souvenirs we continued the six hour drive to Masai Mara, the game reserve we would be spending our next three nights at. The road we followed took us down into the valley and crossed of the mountains bounding the opposite side and continued on towards the reserve. From this point on most of the roads were dirt only. About an hour away from Masaia Mara, our car broke down. David said a fuse was out and theorized that it had gotten wed after we drove through some water in the road. Nothing was around except a grove of trees and a small Masai village. David was eventually able to fix the problem, but not before six children came running up to the car to check us out. I took some funny pictures of them running at us, but they probably won't be posted since I realized later that one of the kids was bare-ass naked. An old Masai man also approached the car and put in his two cents about the car's problem, but David waved him off in Swahili, saying "I know you don't know about cars!" Matt used our unexpected break to get out some dip, which the Masai dude was fascinated by. He had been sniffing something out of a bottle and claimed it was tobacco, but it could have been anything. Matt let him have some of his tobacco and tried to explain how to spit it, but the direction were clearly lost initially and the Masai guy learned the hard way that you are supposed to spit dip. Matt politely declined the Masai guy's offer to share whatever the hell he was huffing.
Once back and running, we continued our journey and eventually arrived at our camp, just outside of Masai Mara. There is a semi-permanent Masai village, not in the traditional style, just outside the game reserve and down a road just past this is a row of camps set back into the wooded mountain side used by the various Safari companies. Ours consisted of five or six heavy canvas tents with simple beds and a mosquito net. About the tent as a tin roof. At the end of the row of tents stood a tin-roofed pavilion where divided into a kitchen and an eating area, and about fifty feet down the hill from this were two toilets and two showers. Running water came from an elevated tank, and fire beneath one of the pipes provided hot showers.
Masai Mara is the premier game reserve in Kenya. It is the Kenyan portion of the famous Tanzanian Serengeti plane and consists of 2,500 km^2 of preserved land, bordered on most sides by a grassy mountains. During August, animals migrate from the 8-times larger Serengeti to Masai Mara and it is a truly spectacular sight to witness. Although we weren't touring during peak season, we still saw most animals and they were not hard to find. One benefit of Masai Mara is that it is relatively small compared to the Serengeti and is enclosed by mountains whereas the Serengeti is one giant flat plain. This keeps the animals concentrated, making them easier to find during the off seasons than they would be in the vast plains of Tanzania.
We arrived at the camp at 3:00 and had lunch at 3:30, then left at 4:00 for a short introductory drive through the park. Masai Mara did not hold anything back on this first day. As soon as we drove through the gates (all I could thing about the whole time was Jurassic Park and the theme song was stuck in my head all week) we saw zebra, wildebeest, and two different types of deer type things (I will probably never learn the difference between antelope, gazelle, and impala). Shortly after this we saw giraffe, elephants, various types of birds, and group of about 7 female lions chilling under a tree. Two left and began to stalk a wildebeest, but they can sit still in the grass just waiting for up to two hours and the park was closing soon so we didn't stick around to see the exciting conclusion.
Back at camp we ran into two other kids from Cairo. One was working on his PhD in theater, comparing the various approaches to war taken by theater in New York, London, and Cairo. The other guy looked pretty young, like he had barely graduated before taking a job with an NGO in Cairo. It turned out that George (the grad student) and I both volunteered on the same day at St. Andrew's back in Cairo. Making the world seem even smaller, Matt and I found out during this same conversation that my dad and his mom came from the same ridiculously small town of Fowler, Indiana, and that my grandparents had bought farm implements from his grandpa's dealership, my cousin Nick had dated his cousin Melanie and that we had met each other's cousins when they were brought back to our grandparents' places at family holidays, and that my dad played on the same basketball team as his uncle.
We also met some Norwegians who were taking some time off from work. They had started off in Jordan, spent a day in Cairo, and continued on to Kenya. From Kenya they were going to Uganda and making a quick trip to Rwanda before heading back to Kampala to fly back home. The Norwegian works for a travel agency and gets good rates on travel. Talking to him further impressed upon me how truly blessed I am to have an American passport. Being Norwegian doesn't exactly restrict his travel much, but flying the United States is a nightmare. Even if you are just transferring on the way to another country (for example, flight from Norway to Australia transfer through the US), you must exit through US customs, claim your luggage, and then re-check your luggage and go back through customs. This process can take hours, and he complained that many airlines will set up flights that only have a two hour window between transfer flights and his company has to deal with people who missed their connections on a daily basis because of the amount of time it takes simply to catch a connecting flight in the US. This is all in addition to extensive questionnaire one must fill out when going through customs. If you have flown internationally, you know that most countries have you fill out an immigration card on the airplane asking such question as name, passport number, duration of stay, etc. Apparently the US card for foreigner includes questions like "do you take medication for mental illness?" "Are you or were you ever a member of the Nazi party?"
The camp has no electricity, so once it got dark it was pretty much bedtime. During the days that we had large chunks of daylight ours to kill we either read, slept, or played chess with the set I bought from the guys at the souvenir shop overlooking the Great Rift Valley. At night we simply enjoyed looking at the stars and, like the White Desert, you could actually see the Milky Way and famous constellations were harder to spot since there were so many background stars that are usually invisible in suburban America. One night some Masai men performed some traditional dances around a campfire, for the low low price of 400 Kenyan shilling of course ($5). We were a little skeptical as to whether they actually still did these but rolled with it anyway.
One morning at camp we awoke to find baboons digging through the food remnants left in the ditch at the bottom of camp. It was entreating to see the camp dog chase them away and pridefully prance back towards us, grinning from ear to ear, only to have the baboons return as soon as he turned his back! The dogs the Masai had were had beautiful golden coats and were not at all mangy like the dogs we had seen in Egypt. One afternoon a group found some small monkeys in their tent trying to get at some muffins they had brought along. They're like raccoons but craftier! They also attacked Chris, which was fun.
The safari company cooked for us our whole time in Kenya, and we had deliciously simple meals of soup, rice, stew, fish, and potatoes. The next day we took an-day game drive and picnicked out in the middle of the park. In addition to the animals we had already seen, we saw hippos, ostrich, pumbas, jacka;s, and vultures waiting to eat a buffalo carcass being closely guarded by a male lion. The following day we took an early morning drive and then an afternoon drive. We saw countless species during our stay at Masai Mara and the only animals of note that we missed were leopards and cheetah.
On Friday morning we left Masai Mara for Lake Nukuru. It was a four hour drive on the worst "roads" I have ever been on, through the back country of Kenya. It was a pretty impressive experience to see that side of the country, even though we only drove through. The city of Nukuru was much different from Nairobi, and we attracted a lot more attention and had to politely refuse offers to buy things. We picked up some snacks and beer in the supermarket. Here we found something called "Guinness Foreign Extra," made by the Guinness company It came in a 500ml bottle with no agitator, had a slightly higher alcohol content, and tasted like a decent knock-off of real Guinness. In both Kenya and Egypt beer is sold predominantly in 500ml bottles, which is pretty strange to see coming from the US. David expressed is concerns over lunch that the availability of cheap beer is leading many in the up and coming generation in Kenya to suffer from alcoholism.
Lake Nukuru Park, although small compared to Masai Mara, is notable for its flamingos and rhino. The park contains a large lake bordered by mountains and forests, and estimates of the flamingo population living there vary by the millions. We went up to a spot that looked out over the lake and you could see a pink ring around its edges representing the flamingo population. This is the only place that we saw rhino, both the rarer black and the more common white. We wondered what animals rhinos were most closely related to and David said that there really weren't any. He described them as, along with crocodiles and alligators, the last of the dinosaurs.
We stayed in a small two-bedroom, one-bath lodge at the park. It had a TV, electricity, and beds with mosquito nets. After unpacking and eating lunch after our initial arrival, we went for a drive and marveled at the number of flamingos and up close to a couple rhino. We also saw some baboons trying to work a water fountain. That night we had a good conversation with our cook about Kenyan politics. He explained the coalition government the Kofi Anan had helped broker, giving one side the presidency and the opposition prime minister, how the two did not talk to each other, how the party which held most power distributed money to his own tribal areas at the expense of others, and the current situation brewing with Uganda, which was trying to lay claim to a small island owned by Kenya in Lake Victoria.
We took one last drive through the park the next morning, ate lunch, and headed back to Nairobi. We drove past one of the slums on the way in, and it was just a sea of tin roofs tightly packed in a small valley. Over 400,000 people live there. Our last stop was the giraffe center (home of David's favorite animal. He likes them because they are tall and have great eyesight), which Chris needed to go to because he promised his niece a picture with a giraffe. It was pretty cool. We got to feed and pet a giraffe, and Chris kissed one named Colin. Twice. Because I didn't take a good enough picture the first time.
David then dropped us off at the famous Carnivore restaurant and helped us arrange for a taxi to the airport. Then we said goodbye. We really liked David and it was kind of strange seeing him go after spending so much time with him that week. I'm sure he was anxious to get back to his family though. We got to Carnivore at 4:00pm and were hoping to take a long dinner before spending the night in the airport to avoid having to pay for a hotel, only to leave at 2:00 in the morning to make our 5:00am flight. They didn't open until 6:00 so we killed time watching rugby in the bar. Dinner was amazing. Its a classy restaurant, but its all you can eat meat. They bring out bread and salad and an assortment of sauces for each meat type topped by a white flag. Once they start bringing out meat, you eat until you can't eat any more, at which point you "surrender" by taking down the flag. Then they bring out desert and coffee. They warmed us up with chicken, turkey, and pork sausage and spare ribs before bringing out the more exotic meats. Even though we were most excited about the crocodile and ostrich, chicken and turkey were grilled to perfection, and having real pork in general was treat since we were living in Cairo. The ostrich meatballs were amazing and so was the crocodile, which was sweeter and a somewhat sea-foody texture. After dinner we killed more time before our taxi arrived.
We got to the airport close to 11 and had even more time to kill before our flight. This was spent reading, chatting with some French girls who were stranded after their flight was overbooked, and window-shopping the airport's closed gift shops.We arrived back in Cairo early Sunday morning. I was dead-tired and upset that no one would exchange my shillings since I had forgotten to do so in the Nairobi airport. I also had another enjoyable experience in Egyptian customs where, as always, there are first-timers who don't understand the process. There is always a male head of the household who shows up with a handful of passports (his and the rest of his family's) who inevitably has to send for his wife and children because the customs guy needs to them to actually be present. Who knew? I also found it amusing when the passport control officer looked at a man's fully veiled wife, trying to match her face to the one in her passport photo. He didn't make her de-veil, which I didn't expect anyway. Honestly I would have felt uncomfortable if he had made the guy's wife de-veil right there in public. It was just amusing to see them go through the rituals of passport control even though both knew that matching her face to the photo was impossible.
I'm not sure how to end this story, except to say that the safari truly was a once in a lifetime experience. It was amazing to see all these animals in person that I had only seen before on TV or at the zoo. But you can't really get a feel for how an animal lives its life at the zoo. You don't see how a lioness stalks their prey; how the male lion sits and guards a carcass from vultures until he's done eating; how elephants travel in herds of 30 across open plains just grazing, like giant cows. Just as awe-inspiring as the animals was the landscape. Vast green plains and hills, random stands of trees around small creeks, beautiful equatorial sunsets. Honestly, the terrain reminded me of an exoctic version of South Dakota, with the Great Plains running into the Black Hills. I truly enjoyed it and am thankful that Chris got it together, as going on a safari for spring break had never crossed my mind.
Early on in the semester, I'm talking February here, Chris decided he wanted to do a Safari in Kenya for spring break. A lot of ideas had been floated about spring break ideas, and Egypt's central location on the Mediterranean made travel to just about any part of the Levant, North Africa, or Europe feasible. Most of the people I hang around with decided to loop through Lebanon, Syria, Jordan, and Israel/Palestine on their way back to Cairo. I had a lot of interest in this sort of trip and to be completely honest I'm a little jealous, but the opportunity to safari in Kenya arose early and I had a good think about it. The rationale behind making a whirlwind tour through the Levant was that this might be the only time we are all in the Middle East, so we better see as much of it as we can; but seeing that we are all majoring in PoliSci, IR, Middle Eastern History and the like, I doubt that this will be our only time here. In the end, I chose the safari precisely because it was different. I've never studied sub-Saharan Africa, so I thought it would be great to take the opportunity to travel to Kenya I don't know that I will have that many more chances to go on a safari. I also felt it would be little foolish to live in Africa for four months without having seen any of "real" Africa (see my conversations with Dambik and Madit in previous posts).
We flew out of Cairo on April 12th at 10:30pm. I wasn't feeling to well and had to step outside during the Easter Vigil mass the night before after eating some bad shakshouka. We arrived at 4:30am Nairobi time and the safari company, Kenia Tours and Safaris, met us at the airport and took us to our hotel. Since we had gotten in so late (or early, I suppose), Chris and Matt slept until 1 in the afternoon. I, however, woke up at 10 and couldn't get back to sleep. Instead I watched some Kenyan television. The programming was somewhat strange. I watched Diseny's Hercules from about 10 to 12, which was followed by a show that did 15 minute profiles of "Great Men in History," which was then followed by Glory, the Civil War flick starring Matthew Broderick, Denzel Washington and Morgan Freeman. In any case, we woke up late, didn't finish lunch until about 3, and were all feeling pretty lethargic. We just napped after lunch and then got dinner and a few Tuskers (Kenya's self-styled national beer) before going back to bed. We had an entire day in Nairobi and spent it in the hotel.
David, our guide for the week, picked us up from the hotel at 8:30 the next morning after breakfast. We made a quick stop in Nairobi's central district to pick up water for the week and toilet paper. Nairobi made a huge impression on us. The streets were clean and wide, the air fresh, and the architecture modern and attractive. It really contrasted Cairo, although I guess having 14 million fewer people than Cairo gives Nairobi an edge in the sanitation department. Nairobi does have its darker side though. It has two of Afirca's largest slums and walking the streets after dark is just an invitation to get mugged. But in terms of the dowtown area, Nairobi was a beautiful city. And unlike Cairo, we were pretty much ignored. As a white foreigner walking in downtown Cairo, one can exepect someone to proclaim "Welcome to Egypt!" and try to give you best price at his uncle's perfume shop at least once every two minutes. In Nairobi, even though we were the only white people in sight, no one looked at us twice. I loved it.
We finished picking up a weeks worth of water before David returned from buying food for our meals, so we got into a conversation with company's secretary who had accompanied us to the city. She asked where we were from and we explained that we were studying in Cairo until May. She asked us how we liked Cairo and, since we were reveling in Nairobi's beauty, we gave her a pretty harsh critique of Cairo and its dirtiness, pollution, overcrowding, and abrasiveness. This sparked her to respond "Is there lots of Islamic there?" We said "yes," and she replied, "This is why." She said this lightheartedly so I got the impression it was more of a joke than anything else, but it was interesting to hear after spending so much time in an Islamic country. At the same time, it could reflect political issues in neighboring states such as Sudan or Somalia where some factions are organized around Islam (to put the situations simply).
Just outside the city we stopped at an overlook of the Great Rift Valley. The view was incredible. I couldn't even fathom the distances I was able to see looking across the vast plains that lay below me. It truly is natural wonder. After buying some souvenirs we continued the six hour drive to Masai Mara, the game reserve we would be spending our next three nights at. The road we followed took us down into the valley and crossed of the mountains bounding the opposite side and continued on towards the reserve. From this point on most of the roads were dirt only. About an hour away from Masaia Mara, our car broke down. David said a fuse was out and theorized that it had gotten wed after we drove through some water in the road. Nothing was around except a grove of trees and a small Masai village. David was eventually able to fix the problem, but not before six children came running up to the car to check us out. I took some funny pictures of them running at us, but they probably won't be posted since I realized later that one of the kids was bare-ass naked. An old Masai man also approached the car and put in his two cents about the car's problem, but David waved him off in Swahili, saying "I know you don't know about cars!" Matt used our unexpected break to get out some dip, which the Masai dude was fascinated by. He had been sniffing something out of a bottle and claimed it was tobacco, but it could have been anything. Matt let him have some of his tobacco and tried to explain how to spit it, but the direction were clearly lost initially and the Masai guy learned the hard way that you are supposed to spit dip. Matt politely declined the Masai guy's offer to share whatever the hell he was huffing.
Once back and running, we continued our journey and eventually arrived at our camp, just outside of Masai Mara. There is a semi-permanent Masai village, not in the traditional style, just outside the game reserve and down a road just past this is a row of camps set back into the wooded mountain side used by the various Safari companies. Ours consisted of five or six heavy canvas tents with simple beds and a mosquito net. About the tent as a tin roof. At the end of the row of tents stood a tin-roofed pavilion where divided into a kitchen and an eating area, and about fifty feet down the hill from this were two toilets and two showers. Running water came from an elevated tank, and fire beneath one of the pipes provided hot showers.
Masai Mara is the premier game reserve in Kenya. It is the Kenyan portion of the famous Tanzanian Serengeti plane and consists of 2,500 km^2 of preserved land, bordered on most sides by a grassy mountains. During August, animals migrate from the 8-times larger Serengeti to Masai Mara and it is a truly spectacular sight to witness. Although we weren't touring during peak season, we still saw most animals and they were not hard to find. One benefit of Masai Mara is that it is relatively small compared to the Serengeti and is enclosed by mountains whereas the Serengeti is one giant flat plain. This keeps the animals concentrated, making them easier to find during the off seasons than they would be in the vast plains of Tanzania.
We arrived at the camp at 3:00 and had lunch at 3:30, then left at 4:00 for a short introductory drive through the park. Masai Mara did not hold anything back on this first day. As soon as we drove through the gates (all I could thing about the whole time was Jurassic Park and the theme song was stuck in my head all week) we saw zebra, wildebeest, and two different types of deer type things (I will probably never learn the difference between antelope, gazelle, and impala). Shortly after this we saw giraffe, elephants, various types of birds, and group of about 7 female lions chilling under a tree. Two left and began to stalk a wildebeest, but they can sit still in the grass just waiting for up to two hours and the park was closing soon so we didn't stick around to see the exciting conclusion.
Back at camp we ran into two other kids from Cairo. One was working on his PhD in theater, comparing the various approaches to war taken by theater in New York, London, and Cairo. The other guy looked pretty young, like he had barely graduated before taking a job with an NGO in Cairo. It turned out that George (the grad student) and I both volunteered on the same day at St. Andrew's back in Cairo. Making the world seem even smaller, Matt and I found out during this same conversation that my dad and his mom came from the same ridiculously small town of Fowler, Indiana, and that my grandparents had bought farm implements from his grandpa's dealership, my cousin Nick had dated his cousin Melanie and that we had met each other's cousins when they were brought back to our grandparents' places at family holidays, and that my dad played on the same basketball team as his uncle.
We also met some Norwegians who were taking some time off from work. They had started off in Jordan, spent a day in Cairo, and continued on to Kenya. From Kenya they were going to Uganda and making a quick trip to Rwanda before heading back to Kampala to fly back home. The Norwegian works for a travel agency and gets good rates on travel. Talking to him further impressed upon me how truly blessed I am to have an American passport. Being Norwegian doesn't exactly restrict his travel much, but flying the United States is a nightmare. Even if you are just transferring on the way to another country (for example, flight from Norway to Australia transfer through the US), you must exit through US customs, claim your luggage, and then re-check your luggage and go back through customs. This process can take hours, and he complained that many airlines will set up flights that only have a two hour window between transfer flights and his company has to deal with people who missed their connections on a daily basis because of the amount of time it takes simply to catch a connecting flight in the US. This is all in addition to extensive questionnaire one must fill out when going through customs. If you have flown internationally, you know that most countries have you fill out an immigration card on the airplane asking such question as name, passport number, duration of stay, etc. Apparently the US card for foreigner includes questions like "do you take medication for mental illness?" "Are you or were you ever a member of the Nazi party?"
The camp has no electricity, so once it got dark it was pretty much bedtime. During the days that we had large chunks of daylight ours to kill we either read, slept, or played chess with the set I bought from the guys at the souvenir shop overlooking the Great Rift Valley. At night we simply enjoyed looking at the stars and, like the White Desert, you could actually see the Milky Way and famous constellations were harder to spot since there were so many background stars that are usually invisible in suburban America. One night some Masai men performed some traditional dances around a campfire, for the low low price of 400 Kenyan shilling of course ($5). We were a little skeptical as to whether they actually still did these but rolled with it anyway.
One morning at camp we awoke to find baboons digging through the food remnants left in the ditch at the bottom of camp. It was entreating to see the camp dog chase them away and pridefully prance back towards us, grinning from ear to ear, only to have the baboons return as soon as he turned his back! The dogs the Masai had were had beautiful golden coats and were not at all mangy like the dogs we had seen in Egypt. One afternoon a group found some small monkeys in their tent trying to get at some muffins they had brought along. They're like raccoons but craftier! They also attacked Chris, which was fun.
The safari company cooked for us our whole time in Kenya, and we had deliciously simple meals of soup, rice, stew, fish, and potatoes. The next day we took an-day game drive and picnicked out in the middle of the park. In addition to the animals we had already seen, we saw hippos, ostrich, pumbas, jacka;s, and vultures waiting to eat a buffalo carcass being closely guarded by a male lion. The following day we took an early morning drive and then an afternoon drive. We saw countless species during our stay at Masai Mara and the only animals of note that we missed were leopards and cheetah.
On Friday morning we left Masai Mara for Lake Nukuru. It was a four hour drive on the worst "roads" I have ever been on, through the back country of Kenya. It was a pretty impressive experience to see that side of the country, even though we only drove through. The city of Nukuru was much different from Nairobi, and we attracted a lot more attention and had to politely refuse offers to buy things. We picked up some snacks and beer in the supermarket. Here we found something called "Guinness Foreign Extra," made by the Guinness company It came in a 500ml bottle with no agitator, had a slightly higher alcohol content, and tasted like a decent knock-off of real Guinness. In both Kenya and Egypt beer is sold predominantly in 500ml bottles, which is pretty strange to see coming from the US. David expressed is concerns over lunch that the availability of cheap beer is leading many in the up and coming generation in Kenya to suffer from alcoholism.
Lake Nukuru Park, although small compared to Masai Mara, is notable for its flamingos and rhino. The park contains a large lake bordered by mountains and forests, and estimates of the flamingo population living there vary by the millions. We went up to a spot that looked out over the lake and you could see a pink ring around its edges representing the flamingo population. This is the only place that we saw rhino, both the rarer black and the more common white. We wondered what animals rhinos were most closely related to and David said that there really weren't any. He described them as, along with crocodiles and alligators, the last of the dinosaurs.
We stayed in a small two-bedroom, one-bath lodge at the park. It had a TV, electricity, and beds with mosquito nets. After unpacking and eating lunch after our initial arrival, we went for a drive and marveled at the number of flamingos and up close to a couple rhino. We also saw some baboons trying to work a water fountain. That night we had a good conversation with our cook about Kenyan politics. He explained the coalition government the Kofi Anan had helped broker, giving one side the presidency and the opposition prime minister, how the two did not talk to each other, how the party which held most power distributed money to his own tribal areas at the expense of others, and the current situation brewing with Uganda, which was trying to lay claim to a small island owned by Kenya in Lake Victoria.
We took one last drive through the park the next morning, ate lunch, and headed back to Nairobi. We drove past one of the slums on the way in, and it was just a sea of tin roofs tightly packed in a small valley. Over 400,000 people live there. Our last stop was the giraffe center (home of David's favorite animal. He likes them because they are tall and have great eyesight), which Chris needed to go to because he promised his niece a picture with a giraffe. It was pretty cool. We got to feed and pet a giraffe, and Chris kissed one named Colin. Twice. Because I didn't take a good enough picture the first time.
David then dropped us off at the famous Carnivore restaurant and helped us arrange for a taxi to the airport. Then we said goodbye. We really liked David and it was kind of strange seeing him go after spending so much time with him that week. I'm sure he was anxious to get back to his family though. We got to Carnivore at 4:00pm and were hoping to take a long dinner before spending the night in the airport to avoid having to pay for a hotel, only to leave at 2:00 in the morning to make our 5:00am flight. They didn't open until 6:00 so we killed time watching rugby in the bar. Dinner was amazing. Its a classy restaurant, but its all you can eat meat. They bring out bread and salad and an assortment of sauces for each meat type topped by a white flag. Once they start bringing out meat, you eat until you can't eat any more, at which point you "surrender" by taking down the flag. Then they bring out desert and coffee. They warmed us up with chicken, turkey, and pork sausage and spare ribs before bringing out the more exotic meats. Even though we were most excited about the crocodile and ostrich, chicken and turkey were grilled to perfection, and having real pork in general was treat since we were living in Cairo. The ostrich meatballs were amazing and so was the crocodile, which was sweeter and a somewhat sea-foody texture. After dinner we killed more time before our taxi arrived.
We got to the airport close to 11 and had even more time to kill before our flight. This was spent reading, chatting with some French girls who were stranded after their flight was overbooked, and window-shopping the airport's closed gift shops.We arrived back in Cairo early Sunday morning. I was dead-tired and upset that no one would exchange my shillings since I had forgotten to do so in the Nairobi airport. I also had another enjoyable experience in Egyptian customs where, as always, there are first-timers who don't understand the process. There is always a male head of the household who shows up with a handful of passports (his and the rest of his family's) who inevitably has to send for his wife and children because the customs guy needs to them to actually be present. Who knew? I also found it amusing when the passport control officer looked at a man's fully veiled wife, trying to match her face to the one in her passport photo. He didn't make her de-veil, which I didn't expect anyway. Honestly I would have felt uncomfortable if he had made the guy's wife de-veil right there in public. It was just amusing to see them go through the rituals of passport control even though both knew that matching her face to the photo was impossible.
I'm not sure how to end this story, except to say that the safari truly was a once in a lifetime experience. It was amazing to see all these animals in person that I had only seen before on TV or at the zoo. But you can't really get a feel for how an animal lives its life at the zoo. You don't see how a lioness stalks their prey; how the male lion sits and guards a carcass from vultures until he's done eating; how elephants travel in herds of 30 across open plains just grazing, like giant cows. Just as awe-inspiring as the animals was the landscape. Vast green plains and hills, random stands of trees around small creeks, beautiful equatorial sunsets. Honestly, the terrain reminded me of an exoctic version of South Dakota, with the Great Plains running into the Black Hills. I truly enjoyed it and am thankful that Chris got it together, as going on a safari for spring break had never crossed my mind.
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