Cairo To Dakhleh

I’ve been really remiss with this blog, so forgive me if my memory is a bit hazy as I try to fill in over a month of craziness.

Summing up Cairo: Smoggy, sandy, bright but faded colors everywhere. We ascended into a labyrinthine building to fill out visa extension request, and then had the rest of the day to explore while our handlers worked with the creaking Egyptian bureaucracy for us. We tried to get to the Cairo museum, but the crowds outside made us put it off. Instead we dodged some traffic and walked across the Nile somewhat aimlessly. We noted numerous statues of men in fezzes striking benevolent poses, and turned down somewhere close to 50 offers of boat rides. The view of the Nile was less than spectacular thanks to the obscuring haze of smog from the insane amount of Cairo drivers, so we had to rely on the wow factor of standing over such a famous river to sustain the tourist magic. On our way back over the bridge we got the classic tourist ambush.

As we stepped onto the bridge a man just happened to appear walking the same direction, asking for the time. Supposedly he had studied art in Montana and wanted to practice his English. We let him lead us to his “sister’s art show” which turned out to be a store selling typical tourist merchandise. We were treated to our first real Egyptian tea (with the tea unbagged in the bottom of the glass) while he showed us papyrus paintings he had done himself (the sister never materialized) as well as various other arts and crafts that he was apparently a master of. When he realized that we weren’t buying, the lights of the store were shut off and we were told that we were free to “stay and finish our tea”, while he held open the door. We took the hint. Apparently another group of my friends got caught in the same scam, but were given more of a hard sell by the guy who supposedly had done all the artwork (which explains the desire to clear us out of the store so quickly). Big family.

We went to the shell of an old factory that was now a market, which was the most intense working of the olfactory gland that I’ve had on this trip. What sticks out in my mind most about the market was the cats wandering the stalls. Half of the were pregnant; I think that may be the first time I’ve ever seen a pregnant cat wandering around in my entire life. Just one of those little things about living in a first-world nation that you normally don’t even think of.

Adam, a fellow student distinguished by his uncanny resemblance to every mummy portrait painted in the Valley of the Golden Mummies, went with me on a shopping expedition to Khanel-Khalili, the major shopping district of Cairo. We were completely unsuccessful in our object (to find cheap Indiana Jones-style leather satchels), but had quite a tour. We were approached in the standard manner, this time by a “law student” who then had to “study” and passed us off to his dad. His dad then took us through a labyrinth of streets to just about everywhere BUT a shop that sold leather bags. Of course he took us to friends who would probably give him a cut of any sales, but he seemed to know everyone in the city. We saw everything: camel-hair rugs you could pass a pen through without leaving a hole, camel-bone chess sets (which Adam bought out of guilt), imitation western clothes and shoes, pots, goats, donkeys, paintings, were offered self-portraits, papyrus scrolls, lamps, etc. But the closest we came to leather goods was a purse shop. I felt we came out well in the deal, however, as we had a friendly and cheerful tour guide through the area who asked for nothing more than a 10 pound “donation” to a mosque we stopped into. For another “donation” we were taken to the roof of another mosque and watched an incredible sunset over the skyline of Cairo. Well worth the investment. On our way home, we also discovered that there was another section of the market on the other side of the main street that was the true tourist trap. We had been in the seedier part of the market all along.

We then had an early rise, and a 14+ hour drive to the Oasis we would call home for the next two months. The trip went by quickly, with frequent stops at points of interest on the highway ; arches of rock cut by the wind or mounds of blackened rocks so rich in iron that they were fragmented like stacks of knives and throwing-stars. Before too long, we were at our field house. It was massive two story fortress, with a heavy wooden door. It was built out of mud.