Welcome to Egypt!

Egypt.

 I have been dreaming of pyramids and riding a camel in the Sahara Desert for many years. My bucket list is long with dozens of places I want to visit and just as many experiences I want to have, but money always seems to be a factor in what I can and, most often, can’t do. 

However, when my friend mentioned Egypt was also on her bucket list and she wanted to go, I didn’t care how much the trip would cost. I was going!

A man walks alone in the Sahara Desert.

Unfortunately, our adventure didn’t start out as smoothly as I’d hoped.

First, as much as we planned, everything was done last minute by our travel agent, which caused us a fair amount of anxiety. She over-nighted our travel paperwork to us two days before we left, so of course it didn’t arrive in time. However, that was just a minor inconvenience as compared to what followed.

To put it mildly, American Airlines/British Airways suck.

A delayed flight into Heathrow Airport from Dallas/Fort Worth – or an on-time flight, but an hour sitting idle on the tarmac because airport personnel didn’t know what they were doing – made us late for our connecting flight. 

Even with the hour delay, however, we were still 45 minutes early for our connection, but the apathetic woman at security wouldn’t allow us through.  She said we wouldn’t have time to get to our gate and instead, directed us to stand at the end of a very long line of angry passengers who had also missed their connecting flights.

Heathrow Airport sucks.

One after another, travelers took out their hostilities on the clerk working the rebooking window as if everything was her fault. With tears in her eyes, she tried her best to appease each customer. At one point, I heard her on the telephone saying that if someone wasn’t there in ten minutes to help her, she was walking out!

Good for her, I thought, but bad for us because we were still in line. When it was our turn at the counter, we were polite. We hoped our kindness and understanding for the shitshow that Heathrow is, made up for all the rude people who came before us and, who I’m sure, were to follow.

Our original flight was scheduled at 9:45am, however our rebooked flight wasn’t until 4:45pm, so that meant several static hours at the airport. Our frustrations worsened when we learned our original connecting flight had been delayed an hour. We would have made it had we been allowed through security!

This is all just part of the adventure

I told myself this many times, both in my head and aloud, but it did little to improve my mood. It was at this point I learned my dislike of people hadn’t lessened any during retirement and travel-bloat is a very real and painful thing! My feet and legs were so swollen – cankles! I was ready to cash out and book a flight home, but the thought of seeing the pyramids and camels I’ve dreamt about for so long persuaded me otherwise.

It was an excruciating 12-hours of wandering around a very busy Heathrow, eating crappy airport food and trying to find a seat to elevate my feet. At 8pm after about a half dozen gate changes and numerous other delays, we finally boarded our flight to Cairo.

Flying into Egypt at night.

The next morning, I am exhausted and cranky, but eager to begin our explorations of Cairo. We meet our guide from Gallivant Egypt Tours in the lobby of our hotel, the Kempinski Nile Hotel.

Our guide is a beautiful young Egyptian woman with dark hair and an engaging smile. Mariam does not wear a hijab and against tradition, has moved out of her parent’s home and lives as a single woman who attends and pays her own way through college.  Her English is perfect, and she smiles appreciatively as we tell her how proud we are of her and her accomplishments.

Me, Christy, Linda and our guide Mariam Zaky.

She takes us to many historic places, but first we visit the Great Mosque of Muhammad Ali. It is built from limestone sourced from the Giza Plateau and, having been built in the mid-19^th century, is considered a newer construction. With its great central dome and two towering minarets, it is one of the first landmarks to be seen when entering Cairo from any direction.

The Great Mosque of Muhammad Ali.

Next is Saint Virgin Mary’s Coptic Orthodox Church, one of the earliest churches in Egypt dating to the 4th century. It is more commonly known as the Hanging Church because it was built on top of a Roman fortress. Logs from palm trees and layers of stones were stacked above the ruins to be used as the foundation.

It is one of Cairo’s most exquisite churches, but I can’t concentrate on its beauty. The thought of standing on such a precarious foundation gives me a stab of anxiety, especially after seeing a window in the floor exposing what can barely be called a ‘foundation’. However, since it hasn’t collapsed yet from all the tourists tromping through, I suppose it must be rather sturdy, but nevertheless, I imagine myself crashing through the floor at any moment.

The Hanging Church was destroyed during 11th century.
Expansion and reconstruction have gone on ever since, making
 it difficult to date precisely any specific part of the church.

From Coptic Cairo we drive towards St. Simon the Tanner Monastery, but first we must travel through Garbage City!

Driving through Manshiyat Nasser, the proper name for the village, is a wonderful surprise. The streets are narrow and full of garbage. However, it’s not casually discarded trash, but trash carefully collected and sorted for recycling. There is no efficient garbage collection in Cairo, so the residents have taken it upon themselves to become unofficial garbage collectors.

Daily life in Garbage City.

Almost 90% of the garbage is recycled and prior to 2009, much of the organic waste was given to pigs for disposal. The villagers would then slaughter them and sell their meat. However, as a preventive against swine flu, the government ordered all the pigs in Garbage City to be culled.

A girl walks past stacks of garbage.

No surprise that the village stinks and is swarming with flies. It is not a healthy environment, but it is a photographer’s dream. As much as I want to wander the streets with my camera, it is highly discouraged by Mariam. Instead, I take pictures out the van window. Garbage City has become a highlight of this trip!

A man makes basbousa on the street corner in Garbage City.

 I am disappointed when we leave Garbage City behind, however the monastery complex with the Cave church is magnificent.

The Cave Church is exactly that, a church built in a large cave. The stone walls surrounding the church are adorned with sculptures depicting the life of Jesus and the amphitheater has a capacity of 20,000 people. We wander through the complex, also visiting St. Marks, but now it is time for lunch.

Entrance to the Cave Church.

I am hungry to try authentic Egyptian food!

At Bonne Soiree Restaurant, lunch is buffet-style. Mariam recommends the Mulukhiyah soup. She explains it is the national dish of Egypt and is made from jute, which is a green leaf vegetable. I am eager to try it, but it has a slightly bitter taste with a slimy texture. 

Mulukhiyah soup.

I swallow a few more spoonful’s so I can say I at least tried it, but I can’t stomach much more. I push it aside and move on to more delicious foods like rice, fish, meatballs in a red sauce, and Egyptian basbousa. Basbousa is a sweet, syrup-soaked semolina cake that is sometimes filled with cream. I am hooked!

At Khan al-Khalili, a historic market built in 1382, we push our way down passageways, past rows of shops full of trinkets, clothing, and other souvenirs.  Vendors call out to us from the doorways. I notice they are all men, and each has his own way of attracting attention.

A vendor stands in the doorway
of his shop.

“Welcome to Alaska” one of them jokingly calls, while others simply smile and wave. The more aggressive ones hurry along beside us, thrusting their wares in our faces and shouting out prices in hopes of negotiating, "Five for a dollar!" Bargaining is a must in Egypt!

The sounds and sights of the bustling market are dizzying.

A vendor smiles at tourists 
walking past his shop.

The Arabic language is harsh and raspy. The men’s voices are loud and spirited as they shout from the doorways of their shops. There are no discernable words, only what sounds like throaty coughs and expulsions of air. I don’t know if they are arguing or discussing their evening plans. Occasionally, someone will shout in English, and I know it is directed at us. They want us to look their way. If I make eye contact or show the slightest bit of interest, then they become unrelenting. I’ve learned my first Arabic word: La, meaning no.

Merged with the harshness of sound is the beautiful, vibrant colors from the many scarves, dresses, and other fabrics stacked on floor to ceiling shelves inside the shops. Every available space is taken; sometimes there is only enough room for the shopkeeper to stand. Tables are set up outside full of souvenirs making the walkway even narrower. Chintzy trinkets sparkle blindingly under the light.

A shop displaying vibrant fabrics.

It is breathlessly exciting, but I am glad when Mariam stops at a small café and we can sit down and relax, but it doesn’t last long. Three very white American women make for an easy target. Several vendors approach and are persistent in their attempts to sell us their cheap tokens.

La. La. La. La. La. La.

But the vendors will not go away. Mariam snaps at them in Arabic. I don’t understand her exact words, but I get the gist of it by the tone of her voice and the abrupt turnaround of the vendor as he heads in another direction. Mariam looks sweet, but do not be fooled, she is very capable and not to be trifled with!

And then, unfortunately, I must go to the bathroom.

The café we are in doesn’t have a toilet, so Mariam takes me in search of one. Again, I don’t know what exactly Mariam says to a nearby shopkeeper, but I notice his body language and demeanor. He smiles at Mariam and seems fine with her request, but when she gestures towards me – which I assume is her telling him the bathroom is for me – he shakes his head and sends us elsewhere.

Several times we stop, and Mariam asks about a bathroom, but each time we are directed to another place. People either don’t have a bathroom in their shop, which is possible because the shops are small and crammed full of touristy stuff or they don’t want to let me use it.

Finally, we find a bathroom and it is disgusting!

Christy wanders down one of the rows
of Khan al-Khalili market

It’s not even a proper bathroom, just a toilet shoved into a closet with a rickety door that doesn’t close all the way.  It’s dirty and dark, with water on the floor from a leaky toilet and of course there is no toilet paper. However, Christy has come prepared with travel size rolls, and we each carry one in our purse. There is no sink to wash my hands, but again I am prepared. Wet wipes! When I push open the door to leave, a man is standing just outside waiting for his turn. No privacy at all.

Because we had to go to several different places to find a bathroom, Mariam is uncertain of how to get back to the café. Down various alleyways we go, sometimes two or three times down the same one as Mariam tries to orient herself. It doesn’t help that there are five cafes within Khan al-Khalili that all have the same name. It seems each time Mariam asks for directions, she is directed to a different one. Eventually, we find our way back to Christy and Linda who thought we had abandoned them.

As much as I think the market is crazy, it’s about to get worse.   

Ramadan is the ninth month of the Islamic calendar and observed by Muslims worldwide as a month of fasting, prayer, reflection, and community.  We knew we would be traveling to Egypt during Ramadan, but I cluelessly had no idea of what it consisted of.

People gathering for Ramadan just 
outside Khan al-Khalili Market.

Fasting is from dawn to sunset, and we are out well past sunset. We emerge from the market into streets packed with hundreds upon hundreds of people. Rows of tables are set up where anyone can sit to have iftar, which is the nightly meal with which Muslims end their daily Ramadan fast. Free food is given so everyone can eat, regardless of their status in life.

People are everywhere!

People sitting down to enjoy Iftar.

Mariam leads us as best she can through the crowd to our awaiting van. At times we all hold hands or grab onto each other’s clothing, so we don’t get separated. It’s a bit disconcerting, but we make it unscathed to the van, however, once inside, I realize our ordeal is not over.

Now our driver must carefully maneuver the van through the throngs of people.

I don’t know if they are police or security guards, but there are men in uniforms manning a blockade to control the flow of people. They are attempting to let only a few at a time into the area where the food is being served, but it’s not working. There is lots of yelling and hand gesturing as people push past the guards. Soon the area is overrun, and our van is surrounded. Based on the angry words shouted at our driver and the banging on the sides of the van from pedestrians, I’m pretty sure we hit a few people as we made our getaway.

And this was only our first day in Egypt.

The upper terraces of the Citadel offer spectacular views over the city of Cairo.