Due Mar 25, 2020
Warning: None
Gypped in Egypt
25/Feb/2006 Saturday 9:55pm - Cairo Day 1

I’ve gone into sensory overload and need to write my thoughts in order to make sense of it all. But how do I translate into words the events and impressions of the last two days? There’s so much to absorb and assimilate – the sounds, the smells, the sights – it’s all a bit overwhelming. And this is just day one!
Cairo is exactly what I imagined it would be, which is to say beyond anything I could have imagined. Stranger than Thailand even, which, until now, has been the most exotic place I’ve been outside of the US, besides the places I’ve visited in Europe, Australia, Canada, and Mexico.
I won’t go into details of our travels yesterday, of the flight from SF to Paris full of screaming babies and grumpy travellers. Or the delayed flight out of Paris due to an angry youth being deported back to Egypt where he clearly did not want to go. We had to listen to his tirade for 30 minutes until a contingent of security and medical personnel sedated him and we were finally able to take off for Cairo.
I suppose I should explain why I’m here, besides it being a fantastic destination.
My eldest sister married an Egyptian man she met on the internet, converted to Muslim and changed her name to Aisha. My Dad and Stepmom thought they should come and check out her new home.
To be fair Aisha is fifty, married Mohamed a few years back, before the events of 9/11, and were living in South Carolina until now. Already a green card holder before they met, after receiving his US citizenship, Mohamed wanted to build Aisha a nice home in Egypt.
My two other sisters and I decided to tag along for the trip. The last time we were all together was in 2000. Terye and her eleven-year old daughter, Gabrielle, came with me from California. My youngest sister, Mary, who lives in Australia, flew in last week. Dad and Ginny arrived the day before. (I also have four brothers, but only the sisters were available for this trip).
So; on with the story.
Mohamed met us at the airport and ushered us to a waiting taxi. The ride to the hotel was an eye opening introduction to the free-for-all that is the rule of the road here in Cairo. They drive without headlights at night, flashing them only to gain attention, honking their horns as if to say “here I am, I'm about to speed past you.”
The smog and pollution are terrible, the air thick and yellow with sand. The taxi driver said there’s a sandstorm in the desert nearby.
We arrived at the hotel Marriott in Zamelek, on the Nile. After the taxi was searched for bombs, we were allowed to enter. Once inside, we were greeted to a round of enthusiastic hugs by Aisha, Mary, Dad, and Ginny; and Mohamed again, of course.
It’s 11:00pm and I should stop now if I plan to sleep at all. I’m still reeling with sensory overload, and I’m not sure how I’m ever going to describe this day in sufficient detail to capture what it’s like to be a blond female in Egypt.
Driving out to Mit Damsis to see Aisha and Mohamed’s country home, then down to El Mahala to see their city apartment, and finally back to the hotel in Cairo might describe what we did today, but doesn’t capture the essence of the day at all.
Of the micro-bus that Mohamed arranged for us to travel in, or the donkey-carts piled precariously high with laden goods, traveling alongside the cars and the Lorries in the wild, congested, unpredictable traffic. Of the armed, uniformed guards stationed at the crossroads as we traveled to the edge of the city and beyond.
We never did get to meet Mr. Toad, but we certainly took a wild ride!
Trash and dirt and broken bricks are scattered everywhere. And sand. Did I mention the sand? I was struck by the futility of the people we passed, endlessly sweeping dirt floors.
Once out of the city we drove down back country roads along waterways where women gathered to wash clothes and dishes. The water was brown and murky with garbage and God knows what kind of bacteria lurking unseen.
We were constantly drawing attention from the cars alongside us, or in the villages and small towns we drove through. I suppose because we’re blond, and we had cameras in our hands. They wave and try to get our attention much like you would call to an animal at a zoo. Only we were the animals and they wanted us to take their picture.
We spent most of the day driving in the micro-bus. Mary and I in the back seat, sliding our windows open every time we’d slow enough to get a stable picture. Donkeys and carts and oddly dressed people, camels and water buffalo and broken down buildings. And filth everywhere. Occasionally a glimpse of color would brighten the scenery, something beautiful amongst the decay – a flower amidst the rubble.
26/Feb/06 Sunday 8:22am – Cairo Day 2
We’re on the train to Alexandria now. I look outside the window and see neat rows of green fields; here a herd of sheep and a shepherd, here a backdrop of brick and rubble. Here’s more green again, cauliflower and clover and…
Whoosh! A train going in the opposite direction.
Terye says at least on the train we don’t have to worry about traffic, and isn’t that the truth!
We’ve arrived at the Banha Station, where we change trains. It’s misting outside.
None of the signs are in English and even Mohamed, who reads and writes native Arabic, is unable to translate the signs and has to ask directions to guide us to the proper track.
On the train again. Everything is quite colorful, painted brick buildings, pink, blue, yellow, and tan. Here’s a river; banana trees; a grass, bamboo hut; a mosque. More rubble where a building once stood. There’s a blue van driving between red and pink buildings, where a man in traditional Egyptian garb leads a pair of water buffalo.
I’m going to have to put this journal away for later.
But remind me to write about Aisha’s country home in Mit Damsis, with the rooftop garden and the empty three floor building where all their chickens were culled because of the H1N1 bird flu. Of the women dressed in long black robes, strolling by with large bags of vegetables carried on their heads.
Of the pottery workshop we visited, and the town we stopped in where Mohamed insisted we try some sugar cane juice. Of the butcher shops with the camels tied up outside, ready, or already slaughtered and hanging to drain.
Of shopping in the market at El Mahala amidst a large population of boys and men, each trying to catch our attention while we pointedly ignored them. And the women, also inordinately interested in us, in whom I enjoyed connecting with, though we had no common language.
And remind me to write about tripping down Aisha’s apartment steps and almost breaking my ankle; praying for, and receiving Christ’s healing here in the midst of Mohamed’s Islam.
27/Feb/06 Monday 12:01am - Cairo Day 3
We’re back in our room at the hotel, unwinding after our day-trip to Alexandria. It’s a beautiful city, and I’m glad we visited, but it was a little disappointing. Mainly because we hadn't made any plans for what to do once we got there. Most everything shuts down on Sundays all over Egypt, and it was better than sitting in our hotel in Cairo with nothing to do. But, we arrived in Alexandria with no transportation and no real destination.
Fortunately the Roman Amphitheater was nearby and open, as was the Alexandrian library. Lunch doesn’t bear writing about, except to say the café owners forgot to bring Dad and Mary’s meal, which set Mohamed off, clearly offended on behalf of his family. It put a bit of a damper on an already damp day.
I loved the library (booklover that I am), and the beautiful ocean road where we strolled next. In the late afternoon, we found a place that actually served beer. Yay beer!!! We found a great restaurant for dinner, then headed back to the train station.
The trip back to Cairo was quiet and uneventful. Aisha, Terye, Mary, and I reminisced about old times and spoke of our dreams for the future, and shared some rare family bonding. Taxis were on hand when we arrived at the station, and now we’re in our rooms, ready for bed.
28/Feb/06 Tuesday 12:01am - Cairo Day 4
Another day has passed and still I’m not able to capture it because it’s so late and too much has happened and where do I begin?
I’d like to write about the two plush Mercedes Benz that Mary arranged for us to travel in, so different from the microbus of the other day. About our visit to the camel market and the ride through the beautiful upper classes of Egypt, and the Papyrus Museum, and the Pyramids and Sphinx, and the silly Pharaonic Museum that Aisha insisted we go, and the dinner cruise on the Nile with the belly dancers and the whirling dervish.
I would tell you that the camel market was bizarre and fantastic, the museums a rip-off, and we got gypped at the Pyramids. We only got to spend an hour there. It takes an hour just to get around one of them, for goodness sake, and there are three pyramids! And a Sphinx! I mean, who goes to Egypt and only spends an hour at Giza?
But then I wouldn’t have time to write about the alarming call Mary answered in the room she and I share.
The call came after we returned from our outing to Giza, where we were resting before the dinner cruise. Some guy, claiming to be from Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, having just arrived in Cairo. Said he was given our room number and told to offer us $3000 for our services! Mary insisted he had the wrong room, but he insisted he had the money and was waiting in the lobby downstairs.
Now, this call in and of itself wouldn’t have been so alarming, until you also consider the invitation that’d been slipped under our door the night we returned from our trip to El Mahalla. It’d been addressed to Mrs. Vail (our maiden name), and cordially invited to attend the General Manager’s cocktail party on Tuesday evening.
Mary tells me about another Saudi fellow she keeps running into, who spoke with her the night she arrived. And how, shortly after that encounter, she was moved to a different room from the one adjoin to Dad’s that she’d originally been given. Instead she was moved to another wing altogether, far away from the rest of the family. She didn’t think anything of it at the time, but now it seems rather suspicious.
Aisha and Mohamed came to collect us when it was time for dinner. We told them about the call, and the invitation, and together we decided not to tell the others about it. Dad’s already stressed out enough with this trip, what with the language barrier and the lack of Irish pubs!
After the dinner cruise the four of us went up to Ace and Mo’s room and there called the American Embassy. Their only advice was to move to a different hotel, but that’s not really an option; neither is moving to another room. So we’ll just ride it out and see what happens.
Anyway, Mary’s wanting to turn out the lights now, so I’ll have to tell the story later.
1/Mar/06 Wednesday 9:00am - Amsterdam Airport
I may be too tired to finish writing about my trip right now, but this may be the best time to do it, since we’re sitting in the Amsterdam Airport with a three hour layover on our way home.
Mary and I learned that the hotel really did sponsor a cocktail party on Tuesday night. Likely there are people working at the hotel who give out the names of young(ish) unattached women to be targeted for nefarious purposes.
We speculated on whether or not the party was legitimate or if, more likely, our first drink would have been spiked and our person’s kidnapped and spirited off to Saudi Arabia, never to be seen again.
After breakfast, we headed to the Egyptian Museum. It was a whirlwind tour that was both frustrating and exhilarating – frustrating because we only got to spend an hour there and exhilarating because we were at the Egyptian Museum! What made it even more interesting was that both Mary and I have been reading the Amelia Peabody series by Elizabeth Peters and we were getting to see some of the very same treasures she writes about. And here we’ve had our own mystery thing going on like Peabody herself would have been involved in!
After the museum we went off to the Hanging church in Old Cairo, in the Coptic Christian Center. It was interesting hearing about early Christianity from a Muslim tour guide and comparing Eastern and Western architecture. From there we drove to the Citadel, and roamed the fortress and its beautiful mosque.
And then to the market. Khan al-Khalili.
I could have easily spent the whole day at the market, amidst the merchants and hawkers, pouring through the trinkets, spices, and clothing, the jewelry and other bizarre and unusual things.
And yet, we only had an hour. And like the museum had been, it was both frustrating and exhilarating for all the same reasons –because who could ever think you can do the Egyptian Museum, or the Bazaar in just one hour?
I told Mary again I felt “gypped in Egypt,” but we convinced each other that it was okay, at least we got to see the pyramids and the market and we could always come back another time.
I found “Aladdin’s lamp” amongst the treasures and bought it as a souvenir.
Then it was back to the hotel for dinner and to pack, and finally it was time to go. Our van arrived to escort Dad and Ginny to the new airport, and Terye, Gabrielle and I to the old. But first there were hugs and goodbyes to be said, and more hugs, and yet more hugs again, and then we were off to our respective homes.
And so all that’s left is to write my overall impressions of the trip in general, of what it was like to be a blond female in Egypt with all my sisters in a strange and different world. But not now. I’ll do that later, after I’ve had a chance to rest my poor tired brain!
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