Day 27. Islamic Cairo

Decided to give it a go, alone on foot today. This is bigger than it sounds- Cairo is pretty overstimulating, and I actually feel a little dazed. I struck out on foot yesterday for a couple of hours, in search of food and general orientation; ino two hours I found nothing that I was sure was a restaurant, and certainly nowhere to sit and have coffee. I found water, and grocery stores with canned food, but not much to eat. As I had missed breakfast at my hotel due to the Giza tour, and skipped lunch while touring, this was getting to be problematic. (At this point, a big thank-you to Mom for the Whole Foods snacks!)

I did make one friend, at a juice stand. He gave me the only real smile I have seen in my 4 days in Cairo. He was ecstatic when I went in for water. "Thank you!! Hellooo!! Welcome!!" So I also asked for an orange. He looked crestfallen, so I said, "...and also juice?" So he clapped his hands and said, "For you try this." And he poured a small splash of something white into a glass from a milk bottle he fished out of a giant freezer. Sweet slushy ice-cold coconut mikk. Fabulous. He gave me something else to taste, which he said was from India; tamarind juice, I think. I thought too late, "Hmm- I wonder if that was crushed ice, or just frozen coconut milk? Was there water mixed in that drink? Do I have a bout of water-bourne illness coming on?" Oh well, if so, I have Cipro. If that didn't do it, the handsful of salty roasted pumpkin seeds my cab driver kept plying on me today will. But they were really good, too, and it's so hard to refuse people who are trying to be nice. (Which is how I got giardia in Costa Rica, but that's a separate story.)
And, frankly, not so many people I've met this week are particularly nice.

Today's desination, on foot, is Islamic Cairo. My guidebook points out that it's no more or less Islamic than the rest of the city, just so-named for the number of medieval mosques in the neighborhood. This walk is by turns beautiful and chaotic. Cairo is one of the dirtiest places I've ever seen, but there are spots that are swept clean and are bright and open. Winding through the main pedestrian street in the medieval quarter, I discover all the hassling and unwanted attention I had mistakenly expeceted in Istanbul. This time it was aggressive and not at all charming. You'd accept a handshake, only to find that that person wouldn't let go. You'd walk down a lane only to have someone fully block your path to deliver a sales pitch. I went down one street and was proposed to, in a vulgar way, six times. The entrepreneurial optimism in places like this is actually kind of endearing. People seem to have a belief that, for the right price, they can sell you anything. Bicycle tire. Tacky t-shirt. Water pipe. (I can't pass one of those without laughing about the "smug hookah" in those "Unhappy Hipsters" photos.) But I was at the end of my patience when, trying to buy a gift in one stall, the guy said, "What, why not sit down, I'm not going to kill you." Which did not, in fact, feel all that welcoming.

I fought my way pack out of that particular nest of the old city, and came back through a produce market, the nicest part of the walk. Favorite scene: a small baby, sitting happily in a pile of lettuce on top of a vegetable cart. People here were a little friendlier. The loveliest part, through here, was a quiet alley with shafts of light coming down through a wooden roof, lined on both sides with Bedouin tent makers. Beautiful.

At the end of this walk, I see the Citadel, my destination, in sight. A kid, about 17 years old, stops me and says hello. He asks where I'm from, and I say USA. "You need help? What are you looking for?" And I say, "That's the Citadel, right?" And he says yes, and I'm thinking, how nice. "One more question," he says. "Do you want to kiss me?"

"No," I enunciate. "No, I do not."

Still fuming half a block later at a cultural milieu which makes this kind of behavior seem rational to young men, I am waylaid at the back side of the Citadel by a helpful man who apologizes and says it's closed until 3 for a visiting dignitary. He says he's not a guide, doesn't want mone, maybe I want to go visit the Cairo Blue Mosque and then come back? He'll show me the way. He leads me down a side street which is packed with people so it's not scary, but his story is fishy. He talks about the 40 pound entrance fee to the mosque, and I say, "Oh, that's fine, then I'll just take some pictures outside," and he is so dismayed that I realize he is working for the mosque. When he realizes I am not a cash customer he kindly points me the rest of the way and turns back. I double back as well and go to the front of the Citadel- which of course is open. And it was worth the trip, ancient and quiet.

So. I am not proud of this fact, but I am writing this from a cafe- in the mall. After a few hours of full-on hassling, I need a break. I saw this mall in Lonely Planet and scoffed, "what kind of a desperate lame Westerner would come all the way to Cairo and end up in a MALL?" And now I know, exactly, what it takes to drive someone in search of new vistas, to a coffee shop in a mall downtown. I just drank two cappucinos, with dark chocolate on top. And I ate chicken . Clearly I am in mild culture shock. But I am sufficiently fortified- I think I can head back out.

(note from a day later, things actually deteriorated after that. The incident with my obnoxious and amorous 21 year old cab driver, who bought himself a ticket on my Nile dinner cruise and tried to be my date for the evening, probably deserves a full post. But it's too awkward and I am still mad. Another day of Cairo travel under my belt and I can say, with confidence, I am so glad I came. I am so glad I saw the pyramids. I am so glad I rode a camel. I am so glad I saw the Egyptian Museum. And I am so glad I am leaving, in exactly half an hour.)

Day 26: Pyramids.

I spent the bulk of my day with the Ahmets. Ahmet number one is my driver, and an Egyptology and tourism student, and alleged former Olympic medal holder (100 meter dash, Moscow.) Ahmet number 2 is my pyramid guide, and a Bedoin. As in, nomad, and tents, and he has traveled the 2-month journey on camels across the Sahara from Egypt to Libya. They are both characters. Ahmet 1 will not stop talking about Egyptian aphrodesiacs, despite the fact that I keep changing the subject. Ahmet 2 is a big fan of American rappers- he things Eminem is ok, especially after he saw 8 Mile, but he thinks poor Tupac was just beautiful.

Giza is only 11 miles from Cairo; in traffic about an hour. A harrowing hour, in fact- it's not so much that people aren't following the rules, it's that there aren't any. I watched a 7-lane-across merging free-for-all this morning, on a road with no lanes marked at all. People weave and tailgage and play chicken. Pedestrians? God bless them. They just sally forth into traffic, no matter how many lanes or what speed, as there is no other way to cross. Cars don't actually slow down for them, but they do swerve, so that's good. I tested all this out this afternoon and there's no combination of signals that makes it ok for pedestrians to cross. There's one with a blinking yellow light, in the center of two other blinking yellow lights on a different rhythm- I have no idea what that means. Then there's the pedestrian green light complete with the animated walking pedestrian- that one just seems to make the cars angry as they speed through. Red means 30 seconds of "drive like hell," so that's insane. Your best hope, really, is just to step our into moderately-paced traffic. And gridlock.

Anyway. For this and other reasons, I went with the tour offered by my hotel: $50, car and guide for the day, Giza-Saqqara-Memphis. I didn't ask if it included my entry fees; no, but that's fine, I was happy to pay the 30 pounds, about $6, to get in. Another travel surprise. As we approach Giza, Ahmed 1 starts giving me detailed instructions- on how to deal with the camel guys.

I stare back blankly for a moment and say, "That's ok, I'll just walk." Because who, other than a dazed tourist, would actually do the camel thing? I had no intention whatsoever. Ahmed informs me that it's the only way- the complex is 12 km and I'll never see it all if I don't go on a camel. But if I'd rather have a horse I can do that instead. Again I say, "Can't you just walk? I thought camels were just, like, you know, tourist extra." And he says, "Trust me. And anyway, you'll never ride a camel again, so why not now? But when you are talking to the camel guys, don't say anything about money. They'll rip you off. I'll deal with that."

Next thing I know I am seated on a bench, and Ahmed 2 is gesturing at a wooden map of Giza and telling me my Camel Package Options. I go for the big one- ride up a big sand dune for pictures, and see all the pyramids, and the Sphinx. And, contrary to every intention (not to mention the promise by Ahmed 1 to help me,) I am haggling for a camel.

I confirm later on that, yes, this is a racket. And you can indeed drive directly up to the pyramids, and just walk around, for 1/10 of what I paid. However, and this is a BIG however, that would have been a tragic mistake. I did briefly get involved in the tourist crush to get an up-close picture of the Sphinx, and that part was a nightmare- jostling and herding and lots of hassling by people selling things. 10 minutes of that was plenty, and if I'd driven in, that's all I would have gotten. Instead, I climbed onto a camel. complete with festive traditional camel headgear. (Camels, for the record, are way, way, taller than horses.) I got to ride in through the back entrance and across a really nice stretch of Sahara. From way off in the distance, the blowing sand made the pyramids look hazy and misty, and you couldn't see any people. There was a stunning view back down into Cairo.

We did ride up a giant sand dune, high enough to take some great shots. Ahmed made me do a tourist photo shoot- you know, mock leaning on the pyramids, one foot up in the air resting on the pyramid, etc, and though I would normally object to such shenanigans, they are hilarious, particularly the one of Ahmed and me doing "Walk Like an Egyptian." Then we got closer, much closer, and finally close enough to stand on the base of the biggest pyramid. Crazy, they look smaller as you get close because the perspective looking up is all skewed. Ahmed told me that Napoleon is responsible for most of the damage; the story has it that he spent 2 weeks shelling the pyramids to destroy them but never made much headway and eventually gave up. Went down into the crowd to see the Sphinx, exactly as enigmatic as I would have guessed. After that, I parted ways iwth Ahmed 2 and went with Ahmed 1 to Saqqara.

Again, as luck has it, lots of the monuments were closed for repairs. There are enormous, enormous excavations everywhere- it looks exactly like the scenes from Raiders of the Lot Ark with the frantic digs. Lots of these deep wells, way out from the base of the big pyramid there, contain stairs and secret doors- hidden passages into the tomb. The pyramid here, a stepped one, the Dzoser's tomb, is the first pyramid; this stepped one gradually led to the development of the rest.

Ahmed led me into some smaller tombs, where people are studying the heiroglyphics and wall painings. The most exciting: there's a small pyramid onsite, which really is crumbled to the point it looks like a sand dune, that you can enter. This is another thing I had no plans to do, having read that it is brutal on your back and knees todo the crouching walk down the steep ramps to get into one of these things, and neither my back or knees are up for anything risky. It was a short climb in, though. The ramp, fortified with steel square tubing for footholds, is at about a 45 degree angle, and you have to do it crouched forwards as far as you can get, holding onto the rails so you don't pitch forward face-first. You can briefly stand up at the bottom, then you enter a long stone passageway about 3' high. You just have to duck and go for it, and it's uncomfortably long. Another brief respite, another stone passage, and you're in the tomb room, with a high vaulted ceiling covered in stone stars, and some really well preserved wall paintings.

It was all pretty mind-blowing. It has not sunk in that I stood on the base of a pyramid today, or saw the Sphinx, or rode a camel through at least a little bit of desert. I came back and looked in the mirror, and for the record, I looked a complete mess. But I really, really liked what I saw. My hair was all frazzly and tangled, and my cheeks were sunburned, and I was covered in sand, and my clothes had holes in them in two places. (And not to put too fine a point on it, but I'm pretty sure I smelled like my camel.) But my hair was a mess from the Sahara breeze and not an all-nighter, and my cheeks were pink from a few hours out in the Cairo sun and not pale from weeks at my desk, and I was covred in ancient sand from eroding pyramids instead of graphite and zap-a-gap. Even with the camel aroma, I'm calling it a major improvement.