Across the sea in Africa, the Third World and the absolutely enormous, 18 million crowded metropolis of Cairo hit us like a sledgehammer, right in the face: a violent assault of overpopulation, noise, pollution, trash, poverty and total chaos. With no pedestrian crossings anywhere in sight we had to develop a method to get around in Cairo: 1) look for any gap between two cars, 2) decide if it's worth the risk, 3) run as a fool to the next lane, 4) repeat for next seven lanes of crazy traffic and you've made it across. The symphony of honking horns made us decide to think twice before complaining about Portuguese drivers back home again.
The Muslim world became a brutal reality in Egypt. The female race disappeared from the face of the Earth. Everyone we came into contact with was male. In restaurants, at hotels, in shops and on the street, only men. Whenever the women are let out of the back of the house they should take the female-only carriage on trams and subways. Sometimes we'd see their eyes, hidden behind layers of dark clothing that serve to cover up all femininity. With male and female societies completely segregated from each other, the men are condemned to hang out together and do nothing but stare. Heavy stares of curiosity, misdirected lust, and judgement. When we realized that we were the only people on a subway train with knees and elbows showing we switched into pants and long-sleeved shirts.
We fled Cairo and flew down to the Sudanese border, where the four statues of Ramses II at Abu Simbel look out over the bizarre landscape created when the Aswan Dam flooded the desert to create Lake Nasser. Abu Simbel was the first stop on our Nile cruise, Agatha Christie style up the river from Aswan to Luxor. We boarded the luxurious Sunboat III where, for four days, we were to be sheltered. On a jam-packed itinerary we overdosed on amazing temples and melted away in baking 40 degrees while our Nubian Egyptologist, Hassan, told fascinating stories about gods, pharaohs, and hieroglyphics. Off the boat we were attacked by vendors joking: "Welcome to Alaska!" and hustling and hassling us about camel rides and alabaster souvenirs. The highlight of our journey was seeing the perfectly preserved colors in the realistic drawings of Queen Nefertari's tomb in the Valley of the Queens. Imagining all the temples in their original colors would turn the desert into a technicolor production of Aida.
We flew from the lush Nile valley to Sharm el-Sheikh and caught a crazy taxi ride through the Sinai mountains. Passing a military checkpoint to get to Dahab, the rocky landscape turned to sand and then dipped into the black ocean at the narrow Gulf of Aqaba on the east coast of the peninsula. Saudi Arabia was on the other side of the gulf, not many kilometers away. Here, where the dusty desert hit warm and salty water it blossomed into coral reefs. Dahab, a sleepy Bedouin camp has become a scuba diving Mecca. Guillaume snorkled over the reef just off the barren shore and Jonas planned several dives with one of the many dive centers. He was devastated when already after his first plunge into the Red Sea he got a massive ear infection. We located medical help from the local family planning doctor who prescribed the wrong antibiotics. The ear infection just wouldn't go away so we waited it out and lounged like arabs on the pillows laid out on the beach, circled by dazed Bedouins and stoned travelers.
After two weeks in Egypt we flew further east with a long layover in tax-free Dubai where filthy rich arab women in full cover shopped for gold and French lingerie. At three o'clock in the morning, the airport looked like a shopping mall the day before Christmas. It's a crazy world! |
