Mystical, Magical Egypt

by Susan Robison
(Utah)

I am so thrilled to have a stamp from Egypt in my passport!!! It has been a dream of mine for as long as I can remember.
We docked at the port, got processed by immigration and headed off to our bus. Our tour guide was Dina – an Egyptologist – who literally knew anything and everything about the country. We had to have a security escort in a car, and one on our bus per Egyptian law. Tourism is the major source of income for the country and they work hard to protect tourists when they come. The escort security car actually had his sirens and lights on for part of the drive as our caravan of buses made our way along the road.
The port city was Alexandria, named after Alexander the Great. Egyptians aren’t big on early mornings so the city was relatively quiet as nothing opens until 11:00 am or later! Lines of cars from the 1980’s were lined up as cabs – how reliable could that be? I was glad to be in an air conditioned motor coach that was guaranteed to get us to our destination.

As we approached Cairo, the fun began. The city is a jumbled mess of sights and sounds. I think our guide said the Cairo has 25 million people. Many times we had to inch along the road because some nomad was herding their 50 goats or sheep down the main streets of town. Families were riding down the streets, with their donkeys and carts loaded with fresh vegetables and dusty little children right alongside the cars and buses. They were bright and colorful and an absolute delight to see and photograph. Drivers are obsessive about using their horns, but not so much the lanes in the road. Sometimes there would be three cars across on a two lane highway.

As we got into downtown Cairo, you could see the Great pyramids on our left. That was completely unexpected. As excited as I was, I was also a bit disappointed. I really wanted this to be as I had envisioned it in my head. I mean I didn’t expect to have to four-wheel it out to them, but I didn’t expect them in the middle of town. Instead of stopping at the pyramids we drove on to Sakara, to see the Step Pyramid. When we pulled up I was shocked at how unspoiled the setting was. There was this magnificent piece of brilliance, thousands of years old standing amidst the blowing and shifting sands of Egypt. It was breathtaking. No gift shop, no bathrooms, just the pyramid, and its associated ruins. There were some aggressive vendors there, we picked up a few things, but our time was so short we had to focus on taking as many pictures as we could.

Next we boarded our bus back to Cairo. We drove in to the pyramids, and much to my surprise, it was exactly as I had envisioned it as far as the eye could see. It was Lawrence of Arabia, it was Cleopatra; it was perfect. Once you were in the complex, it was endless miles of desert sand and the aptly named wonders of the world. Beyond that, it was filled with the delicious sights of an old fashioned Egyptian bazaar like the opening scene of Disney’s Aladdin. As soon as we got off the bus, dozens of Arabs approached us offering camel rides. We took one of them up on their offer and Neal got a quick ride and I got some great pictures; three bucks.

There were dozens of camel owners as well as men offering donkey or horseback rides. It may sound really commercial, but it seemed to fit in perfectly with the experience. There were Arabs who didn’t want to put as much into making their money. They shouted out “Picture with an Arab, Maam? One Obama Dolla” Our guide told us that her people, meaning the Egyptians, won’t steal your money, they will just be completely in your face until you give it to them. That was the most accurate thing she probably said all day. They were everywhere, but mostly in your face. It was amazing. The desert sands were dotted with camels and donkeys and the Arabs in full garb trying to make a buck off them.

Vendors carrying just a few things, and following you in and out of every place you went until you finally gave in and bought something when they came to a price you thought was fair. Then there were those who had set up shop with stacks of things to sell. They were polite, very polite, but completely unable to take no for an answer, and I loved it. One of my favorite moments was seeing one vendor trying to sell Neal a “real” Arabic headdress. He was putting it on Neals’ head, with Neal looking completely bewildered saying, “no thank you, no thank you,” to no avail.

It was complete mayhem and I loved every minute of it. Each of them had their own angle. Because Neal has more olive skin, all the guys wanted to be his “brother.” You look just like us, they would say. “I sell this to you cheap because you are my brother…” For me, it was the little children who could see I was a “mommy” from miles away. “Please kind maam, buy a postcard, only one dolla.” One was particularly good. He was dirty, and dressed in rags. He had huge beautiful brown eyes and a sad, sad voice. I told him no thank you, and he looked up at me and, pointing down as his feet said, “ but please maam, I have no shoes.” As I glanced down at his dirty little feet I could see, peeking out of his ragged pocket, a wad of bills so big he could buy fifty pair of shoes. I was tickled to death.

It was such a completely adorable load of crap that I gleefully peeled out two bills and bought from him. From that point on I got caught up in the magic and bought from every vendor that had a good story. Ones that would tell me that the items they were selling were hand carved by their brother Ahmed in his tent, ones that told that they had to feed their eight children, and on and on. I knew all this stuff was probably made in Taiwan, but it was the stories and the experience I was buying and it was delectable.

Now for all you women who are looking for husbands, I have found the place for you. I received three marriage proposals from vendors in the bazaar. When I told one that I was already married, he said he would pay fifty of his finest camels to my husband for me. Good thing Neal wasn’t around at the time, he might have thought that was too good of a deal to pass up. So, if you are willing to buy some stuff for a couple of bucks, and don’t mind being wife number seven, or your toothless little husband coming home with the smell of fresh camel dung on his feet, Egypt is the place for you.

We got back into the bus absolutely giddy with the fun of it all. The mixture of the people, camels and the bazaar and the thrill of touching and seeing the great pyramids made the greatest day I can remember. The whole atmosphere was delicious and I couldn’t get my fill. It was a long, dirty drive back to the port and I think I grinned the whole way. I had been transported through time, but had the sands of the desert in my shoes to prove it was all real.