Journal: Part Deux

Never again! Sharm el Shiekh nearly put a very dark taint on things. The seven hour bus ride was no problem, the money was unfortunate but not a problem, the hotel room and bed was different but not a problem. No. The problem was that a hotel provided a box within which a person could travel to a place with a completely different culture, and never actually experience that culture.

The irony of my plight lies rooted squarely in the pages of the book I began when I first arrived in Sharm. The book is about recovering the time lost when one falls asleep without being aware or involved in the act: while reading a book after a meal. The problem then becomes figuring out exactly how much time had been lost once that person awakes and struggles to place the time in which they now exist, unaware of their location Would they ever be regained? And what is the cost of losing them? Sharl el Shiekh became the void between time for us.

As I read the first pages of this book, ACDC, Led Zeppelin, and Ricky Martin were loaded into a CD player and blasted in megaphones out into the hotel courtyard. What followed was a series of drunk Belgian and Polish tourists frequenting the pool, adopting a furious red shade to their skin color, doing some kind of awkward aerobic dance and stretch, and ordering around the Egyptian staff for drinks, food, towels, and the occasional complaint.

Maybe it's just me, but didn't I go to Egypt to experience Egyptian culture, not make it my servant? It got weirder.

We tried to make a day trip to Mount Sinai, which was trampled by a group of rampaging Pollacks. The police in Sinai request to see a list of all visitors and their passports. Apparently, there was an all-Polish group allotted for the day, with whom we were not allowed to go. They booked up all the available slots. At least five hours of frustrated and frantic searching ensued, which was ultimately in vain. After that, I fell terribly ill, slept for thirteen hours that night, and at least seven the next day. Fuckin Belgians...Fuckin Pollacks.

We did manage to work out a trip into the Sinai desert via very un-environmentally friendly means, but drastic times call for... We visited Echo Temple, which is a spot where you yell something and the mountains around you echo them back. We then met some "authentic Bedouins" (though I'm skeptical) and drank tea with shisha.

Arrived in Cairo again this morning...and I paid a much better fare for my taxi. Always nice to see your own improvements. We went to the Mosque of Mohammad Ali (which apparently I mistook last time for Sultan Hassan) and realized we had already been there. Then wandered down to the real Sultan Hassan, but it was closed for lunchtime prayers. Fearing another failed expedition, we kept walking and met a guide who took us around Islamic Cairo and into one of the oldest mosques in the city. I've learned that a good way to get a tour, some free food and drinks, lots of cigarettes, and meet lots of people, is to let these guys do their work. They are scamming you the whole time, paying attention to what you say, how you act, and how you respond to them and the city. They are a lot better at it than you, so just let them do it. They will take you around town, giving you a fairly good tour, provide some pleasant conversation, and then sneakily guide you back to their shop. Once in there, they will tell you that it is Egyptian hospitality to give you a drink ("Please, you don't have to buy anything, but please don't refuse"). Get yourself a drink, mention how hungry you are, then get yourself some food. Its all free. Then you can watch them do your work, and it's all will power from here. Fight the urge to buy the huge tapestry/rug/handmade chess set in the corner they keep showing you. Just but a little something for the time they spent on you, and you'll end up walking away with tea, some lunch, a tour of the city, some new friends, and a nice souvenir for around 30 Egyptian pounds, which is roughly 5 or 6 dollars. Good times scamming scammers.

After that, came back to Ahmed's, went to eat some of the best food I have ever had...Babanook...Falafel...o man, this place was unreal. "Felfela", for those of you taking a trip to Cairo in the near or not-so-near future, do it.

That was about it for the last day. I'm here on the couch now, the other crashers are out at a club trying to win soccer tickets for a world cup qualifier (Egypt v. Zambia) at a club called Eggplant, painted the color of Eggplant...Emily's asleep, Ahemed's asleep. So I sit, listening to some sweet Egyptian Jazz on the 25th floor of Ahmed's studio in Ma'ady, Al Quirah, and staring out at the Nile.

I love Cairo. I'm reluctant to say "loveD" because, for one, I'm taking so many souvenirs back, ergo, a huge chunk of Cairo as I see it; and two, because I'm just too reluctant to leave. It's such a vibrant place, and its challenging to pin down its cultural attributes, but there are some things that are so constant about it (for good or bad...), and I find it rather comforting. Despite the creeping feeling of sometimes contributing to a "culture for sale," every once in a while you'll meet someone so interesting, and you'll spend so much time with them that you don't want to leave. You'll get lost in the madness of the streets, and instead of becoming mad yourself, you just become brain-dead, and walk through the streets totally unable to register everything around you.