2.10.2017
post about saqarra now coirrected
Yesterday's post contained a coding error that rendered five or six paragraphs invisible! Please see below; scroll down to [update].
2.09.2017
saqarra, dahshur, memphis (corrected)
I had a bit of a rough night -- what am I doing drinking strong tea at night?? -- but I must be running on a travel high, because we were up and out early. Yesterday, when we asked our hosts about arranging a driver and guide for us to see more local ancient sites, they advised doing that right away, and saving more urban sightseeing in Cairo for later in the week. They quoted us a price for the whole day -- three sites, including all admission fees, plus lunch, and all gratuities. And, they said, the greatest guide. And they were right!
We had our lovely little breakfast on the roof, looking out at our friends the Pyramids and the Sphinx. While we were eating, our guide dropped by to introduce himself. He said his name was Abdul, and he wanted to make this the best day of our holiday. He told us to take our time, we had all day and he would go according to our pace.
So off we went with Abdul. First stop, a papyrus "museum", as many retail stores call themselves. A charming young man brought us drinks (Turkish coffee for me and hibiscus for Allan), then demonstrated how papyrus is made, by making some in front of us. We also learned how the imitation papyrus sold on the street is made and why it is inferior. And thus began my first lesson in shopping, Egyptian style.
Papyrus Guy showed me a small sample, with my name on it. What a coincidence! So now I know that Abdul has a deal with this shop, and possibly our hotel is in on it, too. We saw some truly beautiful painted papyri, and I started to get sucked into the idea of buying one. We’re not huge shoppers, but we always buy one really special thing on each trip, then a bunch of less expensive items like earrings, bookmarks a such. The “one nice thing” from this trip could be a beautiful papyrus painting.
When Allan and I conferred privately, I discovered I had completely misread the price of the painting. I thought it was 98.00 LE; it was 9,800 LE. That is almost $700, almost what we paid for air fare to Egypt. I apologized to Papyrus Guy, explaining what I misunderstood, and went to find another, less expensive paintings. To my surprise, Papyrus Guy was unfazed. He said, “You have a budget, and this is outside your budget.” I said, yes, well outside our budget. And suddenly the painting was 4,000 LEs! Still more than our “one nice thing” usually costs, but much closer!
And so we began negotiating. I noticed that once we got down to 3,500 or less, PG now offered to throw in other smaller paintings for free, or to not charge us tax or credit card fees. I could get more stuff, but I couldn’t get it for less than 3,200. In the end, we bought the painting I loved best, plus a smaller painting, and a third even smaller painting, for the equivalent of about $225 Canadian. This is not out of line with our handmade Aran sweaters from Ireland or our mates burilados from Peru. Buying it on the second day of our trip was disconcerting. But oh well! It was done. Papyrus Guy rolled it and wrapped it and taped it within an inch of its life, made sure Allan was still breathing, and off we went.
On our way to Saqarra, Abdul recounted the history of Egypt from the Old Kingdom to present times. He’s a good storyteller, and his English is perfect (spoken with a slight Australian accent), and it was enjoyable. He brought us all the way to Morsi, who he called “the greatest man for Egypt,” and the military coup that overthrew him.
And then we were at Saqarra. Abdul gave us these instructions: talk to no one but me, don’t even say ‘no thank you’ to anyone else, don’t take pictures of animals (because the owners will try to get money), don’t take out your money, take all the time you want, if you want photos where you are not supposed to take them, I will tell you when to shoot.
Inside, there were a few other scattered tourists and a school group, but it was mostly empty, especially compared to Giza. Everyone knew Abdul -- which would be the case all day. As we walked around Saqarra, I told him about our experience at Giza, and he was visibly upset. He said passionately, “I hate those men! I hate them. They make life so much harder for tourists, and that means harder for everyone who runs a legitimate business.” When I told him the different ways I had tried to avoid them, he said, “They love to hear ‘no’. ‘No’ is gold to them...” and I said, “Because now you are having a conversation”. Abdul put up his hand for a high-five. He said, “Say nothing. Focus and say nothing. Do not say ‘go away’. Do not say a word."
[begin update] Saqarra is Egypt’s largest archeological site, and was used as a huge necropolis for almost 3,500 years. We entered through a long colonade, something that I would have thought was Greek or Roman, but amazingly, predates those column-makers by thousands of years. There is a stepped pyramid, about half the size of those at Giza (and similar to the size of the pyramids at Teotihuacan). We went behind a barrier to walk around the entire pyramid, although parts were blocked off by scaffolding and repairs.
The columns and the remains of a great hall, and of course the pyramid, were all impressive. But the highlight of the day, by far, was the hieroglyphs. I was excited to see some intact glyphs on large stones from broken walls and columns, but that was nothing compared to what was waiting for us.
We went down a passageway that was much easier than the one at Giza -- wider, better lit, more airy, empty (no other tourists), and not very deep. The clearance was low, requiring you to bend completely at the waist, but not for so long that it was uncomfortable. And the payoff: wow.
The tombs were completely covered in hieroglyphics, top to bottom and the ceilings, as well. Some retained their original colours of red or blue. There were so many, and a huge variety of symbols and pictures, more than I realized existed.
We went into many tombs like this, wall after wall of stunning hieroglyphs, many in colour, telling the stories of processions, and sacrifices, and journeys to the afterlife. Different types of birds depicted in accurate detail, water buffaloes, a cow giving birth to a calf while a crocodile waited to make it its prey. Fisherman and fishing boats hauling in baskets of fish, each detailed to represent a different kind. Processions of people leading their oxen. Symbols indicating how many of each. It was stunning. (I can see I will quickly run out of superlatives.)
You are not supposed to take photos in any of these rooms, but Abdul had already greased the palms -- and quite lightly, we were told -- so we were free to click away. Did someone say photos in a tomb? Now Allan understands why I bought our new wide-angle lens! [end of update]
A few temples at Saqarra were a short drive away, and those tombs were even more richly decorated. Abdul did his thing, then told us one of the hangers-on -- more tout than actual guard -- would bring us down into the tomb. Through a similar non-scary passageway, and into a room with a sarcophagus. And the guide is telling us to go inside -- in the sarcophagus! I wouldn’t, but he practically forced Allan in! So Allan is lying in a tomb, and the tout says to me, “Do not tell Mr. Abdul! He will be angry! Do not tell him!” and he goes on and on. “Promise not to tell him? Promise?” I’m thinking, why would I not tell Abdul? And who is this guy that I should protect him? And didn’t Abdul pay off these clowns? After Allan emerged from the coffin, the tout expected to be paid. That was unsurprising, although against Abdul’s instructions.
But here’s where this tout made a big mistake. I gave him a 20 LE note, and he said, “This was very special! Very, very special! You must pay me dollars. Only dollars!” (More on this obsession with dollars later.) I told him I have no dollars, only Egyptian pounds. “I must have dollars! This is not enough!” And he went on and on, trying to badger me into giving him more money -- in other words, trying to extort me.
Outside, Abdul was waiting, and we went into a few more beautiful hieroglyphic-covered tombs. (Did someone say photos in tombs? Now Allan knows why I bought our new wide angle lens!) On our way out, I asked Abdul, did you pay those guys to let us take photos? He was immediately on guard. “Did they ask you for money??” I said, yes, but that was not a big deal. I didn't mind tipping him; it was his attitude that I objected to.
Abdul is a big man with a bald head. He looks stronger and more imposing than any of the older men hanging around the site in galabeya and kafiyeh. Abdul called out to the man in sharp barks, holding his hand out, demanding the return of the money. I said, “No, it’s ok, it’s ok,” but Abdul wouldn’t hear of it. He took the 20 LE note and berated the man for his greed and stupidity, then put it in my hand.
In the car, driving to Dahshur, Abdul told us his philosophy of service. He feels very strongly that part of his job is to protect his clients from unwanted attention, and to make sure there are no hidden costs, that the agreed-on price is the real price. Abdul pays the entrance fees, the bribes, the gas -- that is all his overhead. I understand that is taken into account in his price, but he is self-employed and takes pride in his work, and in great customer service -- something I truly respect.
At Dahshur, about 10 kms away, there are two failed pyramids -- one built at a weird angle, and another that is falling apart (relatively speaking). From there, you can see the stepped pyramid at Saqarra. Dahshur is just a quick stop.
Memphis, the long-time capital of ancient Egypt, houses an outdoor museum with many statues and pieces of statues. The highlights are a Sphinx for Queen Hatsupshet, the only female pharaoh, and a monumental statue of Ramses II, lying horizontally in a room, with a gallery for better viewing. It is enormous, and carved out of a single block of limestone. Here, too, and on the way -- everyone knew Abdul and welcomed him like the return of a conquering hero.
On the drives between sites, we passed through tiny main streets, with poor-looking stores and a few cafes. We also passed shocks of bright-green fields, growing alfalfa, the occasional man on a donkey cart, children in school uniforms, boys leading horses. There was a lot of garbage. And many scavengers -- dogs, children, old people.
We went to a huge, simple restaurant. I knew that Abdul had called ahead -- I can understand enough Arabic to get that -- so our lunch arrived moments after we did. Abdul told us he would give us privacy and disappeared. First came tahini, hummus, baba ganoush, and grilled eggplant, and of course puffy bread. Then came plates of grill chicken, koftas, and chicken livers. We were quite hungry and the food was so good.
On the way back, we drove through a lot of poverty. There’s a huge amount of garbage, which is obviously connected to the absence of healthy drinking water. Perhaps that’s the first great divide of a world of haves and have-nots -- access to sanitation and drinkable water.
We were almost back at the Pyramids View when Abdul told us he’d be back in “an Egyptian minute”. (He said this is like 30 Canadian minutes.) He popped in to a store, and soon came out with a wrapped take-out container, urging us to eat a bit now, and save the rest for later. It was an Egyptian desert called kunefah, and it is awesome. It’s something like baklava, but substitute tiny shredded wheat noodles instead of phyllo leaves, and add shredded coconut. If you like honey and coconut, you’ve got to eat this.
Back at Pyramids View, we had to reserve our overnight train from Cairo to Luxor. We tried numerous times to do this online, but it was impossible. Literally impossible. There is the appearance of a website, but it simply does not function. Emailing for support is useless. Anyone posting on Trip Advisor or Lonely Planet forums confirms this. We figured we would do this while in Cairo, and our hosts are happy to help. However...
It became a bit complicated. The hosts offered to send someone to the station with copies of our passports and money, to buy tickets for us. But we can’t pay in cash; for large purchases like that, we need to use a credit card. We thought we could do that tomorrow while sightseeing in Cairo, but today would be the last day to reserve for a Sunday night train. After some discussion, our hosts called the train station, confirmed that we can pay by credit card there, and sent us in a cab. The cab would wait while we bought the tickets, and then drive us back.
The traffic was crazy, but in some places the road was relatively open, so we were back to the crazy races between cars, vans, tiny two-person cab scooters, motorcycles and horsecarts. At the train station, the “sleeping car train” office took our reservation with a pen and paper. There was no computer. Aaand... cash only. Fortunately there was an ATM nearby. Factoid: the ticket agent has a sister in Toronto. She is a doctor. He loves Canada -- in the summer.
The ride back was quick. We saw a lot of dogs, who must come out in the evening to forage. We saw a family of five riding one motorbike -- two small kids squeezed up front with dad, and mom and baby riding on the back -- the baby in a blanket, held in the crook of the mother’s arm, off to the side of the bike. We saw a lot of sad things. When I see these things, I rage inside about the injustice of capitalism. All these things are preventable.
Back at the hotel, we were tired but happy. We couldn't thank Abdul enough, and hoped we tipped him appropriately. It's so hard to know!
Yesterday we couldn’t see Diego on the webcam -- the dogs were out, but he was not there, prompting Allan to email Dogtopia. They said he’s doing great, and tonight we saw him.
The whole time I’ve been writing this, the sound and light show of the Pyramids has been going full-tilt, over and over, in three or four different languages.
We had our lovely little breakfast on the roof, looking out at our friends the Pyramids and the Sphinx. While we were eating, our guide dropped by to introduce himself. He said his name was Abdul, and he wanted to make this the best day of our holiday. He told us to take our time, we had all day and he would go according to our pace.
So off we went with Abdul. First stop, a papyrus "museum", as many retail stores call themselves. A charming young man brought us drinks (Turkish coffee for me and hibiscus for Allan), then demonstrated how papyrus is made, by making some in front of us. We also learned how the imitation papyrus sold on the street is made and why it is inferior. And thus began my first lesson in shopping, Egyptian style.
Papyrus Guy showed me a small sample, with my name on it. What a coincidence! So now I know that Abdul has a deal with this shop, and possibly our hotel is in on it, too. We saw some truly beautiful painted papyri, and I started to get sucked into the idea of buying one. We’re not huge shoppers, but we always buy one really special thing on each trip, then a bunch of less expensive items like earrings, bookmarks a such. The “one nice thing” from this trip could be a beautiful papyrus painting.
When Allan and I conferred privately, I discovered I had completely misread the price of the painting. I thought it was 98.00 LE; it was 9,800 LE. That is almost $700, almost what we paid for air fare to Egypt. I apologized to Papyrus Guy, explaining what I misunderstood, and went to find another, less expensive paintings. To my surprise, Papyrus Guy was unfazed. He said, “You have a budget, and this is outside your budget.” I said, yes, well outside our budget. And suddenly the painting was 4,000 LEs! Still more than our “one nice thing” usually costs, but much closer!
And so we began negotiating. I noticed that once we got down to 3,500 or less, PG now offered to throw in other smaller paintings for free, or to not charge us tax or credit card fees. I could get more stuff, but I couldn’t get it for less than 3,200. In the end, we bought the painting I loved best, plus a smaller painting, and a third even smaller painting, for the equivalent of about $225 Canadian. This is not out of line with our handmade Aran sweaters from Ireland or our mates burilados from Peru. Buying it on the second day of our trip was disconcerting. But oh well! It was done. Papyrus Guy rolled it and wrapped it and taped it within an inch of its life, made sure Allan was still breathing, and off we went.
On our way to Saqarra, Abdul recounted the history of Egypt from the Old Kingdom to present times. He’s a good storyteller, and his English is perfect (spoken with a slight Australian accent), and it was enjoyable. He brought us all the way to Morsi, who he called “the greatest man for Egypt,” and the military coup that overthrew him.
And then we were at Saqarra. Abdul gave us these instructions: talk to no one but me, don’t even say ‘no thank you’ to anyone else, don’t take pictures of animals (because the owners will try to get money), don’t take out your money, take all the time you want, if you want photos where you are not supposed to take them, I will tell you when to shoot.
Inside, there were a few other scattered tourists and a school group, but it was mostly empty, especially compared to Giza. Everyone knew Abdul -- which would be the case all day. As we walked around Saqarra, I told him about our experience at Giza, and he was visibly upset. He said passionately, “I hate those men! I hate them. They make life so much harder for tourists, and that means harder for everyone who runs a legitimate business.” When I told him the different ways I had tried to avoid them, he said, “They love to hear ‘no’. ‘No’ is gold to them...” and I said, “Because now you are having a conversation”. Abdul put up his hand for a high-five. He said, “Say nothing. Focus and say nothing. Do not say ‘go away’. Do not say a word."
[begin update] Saqarra is Egypt’s largest archeological site, and was used as a huge necropolis for almost 3,500 years. We entered through a long colonade, something that I would have thought was Greek or Roman, but amazingly, predates those column-makers by thousands of years. There is a stepped pyramid, about half the size of those at Giza (and similar to the size of the pyramids at Teotihuacan). We went behind a barrier to walk around the entire pyramid, although parts were blocked off by scaffolding and repairs.
The columns and the remains of a great hall, and of course the pyramid, were all impressive. But the highlight of the day, by far, was the hieroglyphs. I was excited to see some intact glyphs on large stones from broken walls and columns, but that was nothing compared to what was waiting for us.
We went down a passageway that was much easier than the one at Giza -- wider, better lit, more airy, empty (no other tourists), and not very deep. The clearance was low, requiring you to bend completely at the waist, but not for so long that it was uncomfortable. And the payoff: wow.
The tombs were completely covered in hieroglyphics, top to bottom and the ceilings, as well. Some retained their original colours of red or blue. There were so many, and a huge variety of symbols and pictures, more than I realized existed.
We went into many tombs like this, wall after wall of stunning hieroglyphs, many in colour, telling the stories of processions, and sacrifices, and journeys to the afterlife. Different types of birds depicted in accurate detail, water buffaloes, a cow giving birth to a calf while a crocodile waited to make it its prey. Fisherman and fishing boats hauling in baskets of fish, each detailed to represent a different kind. Processions of people leading their oxen. Symbols indicating how many of each. It was stunning. (I can see I will quickly run out of superlatives.)
You are not supposed to take photos in any of these rooms, but Abdul had already greased the palms -- and quite lightly, we were told -- so we were free to click away. Did someone say photos in a tomb? Now Allan understands why I bought our new wide-angle lens! [end of update]
A few temples at Saqarra were a short drive away, and those tombs were even more richly decorated. Abdul did his thing, then told us one of the hangers-on -- more tout than actual guard -- would bring us down into the tomb. Through a similar non-scary passageway, and into a room with a sarcophagus. And the guide is telling us to go inside -- in the sarcophagus! I wouldn’t, but he practically forced Allan in! So Allan is lying in a tomb, and the tout says to me, “Do not tell Mr. Abdul! He will be angry! Do not tell him!” and he goes on and on. “Promise not to tell him? Promise?” I’m thinking, why would I not tell Abdul? And who is this guy that I should protect him? And didn’t Abdul pay off these clowns? After Allan emerged from the coffin, the tout expected to be paid. That was unsurprising, although against Abdul’s instructions.
But here’s where this tout made a big mistake. I gave him a 20 LE note, and he said, “This was very special! Very, very special! You must pay me dollars. Only dollars!” (More on this obsession with dollars later.) I told him I have no dollars, only Egyptian pounds. “I must have dollars! This is not enough!” And he went on and on, trying to badger me into giving him more money -- in other words, trying to extort me.
Outside, Abdul was waiting, and we went into a few more beautiful hieroglyphic-covered tombs. (Did someone say photos in tombs? Now Allan knows why I bought our new wide angle lens!) On our way out, I asked Abdul, did you pay those guys to let us take photos? He was immediately on guard. “Did they ask you for money??” I said, yes, but that was not a big deal. I didn't mind tipping him; it was his attitude that I objected to.
Abdul is a big man with a bald head. He looks stronger and more imposing than any of the older men hanging around the site in galabeya and kafiyeh. Abdul called out to the man in sharp barks, holding his hand out, demanding the return of the money. I said, “No, it’s ok, it’s ok,” but Abdul wouldn’t hear of it. He took the 20 LE note and berated the man for his greed and stupidity, then put it in my hand.
In the car, driving to Dahshur, Abdul told us his philosophy of service. He feels very strongly that part of his job is to protect his clients from unwanted attention, and to make sure there are no hidden costs, that the agreed-on price is the real price. Abdul pays the entrance fees, the bribes, the gas -- that is all his overhead. I understand that is taken into account in his price, but he is self-employed and takes pride in his work, and in great customer service -- something I truly respect.
At Dahshur, about 10 kms away, there are two failed pyramids -- one built at a weird angle, and another that is falling apart (relatively speaking). From there, you can see the stepped pyramid at Saqarra. Dahshur is just a quick stop.
Memphis, the long-time capital of ancient Egypt, houses an outdoor museum with many statues and pieces of statues. The highlights are a Sphinx for Queen Hatsupshet, the only female pharaoh, and a monumental statue of Ramses II, lying horizontally in a room, with a gallery for better viewing. It is enormous, and carved out of a single block of limestone. Here, too, and on the way -- everyone knew Abdul and welcomed him like the return of a conquering hero.
On the drives between sites, we passed through tiny main streets, with poor-looking stores and a few cafes. We also passed shocks of bright-green fields, growing alfalfa, the occasional man on a donkey cart, children in school uniforms, boys leading horses. There was a lot of garbage. And many scavengers -- dogs, children, old people.
We went to a huge, simple restaurant. I knew that Abdul had called ahead -- I can understand enough Arabic to get that -- so our lunch arrived moments after we did. Abdul told us he would give us privacy and disappeared. First came tahini, hummus, baba ganoush, and grilled eggplant, and of course puffy bread. Then came plates of grill chicken, koftas, and chicken livers. We were quite hungry and the food was so good.
On the way back, we drove through a lot of poverty. There’s a huge amount of garbage, which is obviously connected to the absence of healthy drinking water. Perhaps that’s the first great divide of a world of haves and have-nots -- access to sanitation and drinkable water.
We were almost back at the Pyramids View when Abdul told us he’d be back in “an Egyptian minute”. (He said this is like 30 Canadian minutes.) He popped in to a store, and soon came out with a wrapped take-out container, urging us to eat a bit now, and save the rest for later. It was an Egyptian desert called kunefah, and it is awesome. It’s something like baklava, but substitute tiny shredded wheat noodles instead of phyllo leaves, and add shredded coconut. If you like honey and coconut, you’ve got to eat this.
Back at Pyramids View, we had to reserve our overnight train from Cairo to Luxor. We tried numerous times to do this online, but it was impossible. Literally impossible. There is the appearance of a website, but it simply does not function. Emailing for support is useless. Anyone posting on Trip Advisor or Lonely Planet forums confirms this. We figured we would do this while in Cairo, and our hosts are happy to help. However...
It became a bit complicated. The hosts offered to send someone to the station with copies of our passports and money, to buy tickets for us. But we can’t pay in cash; for large purchases like that, we need to use a credit card. We thought we could do that tomorrow while sightseeing in Cairo, but today would be the last day to reserve for a Sunday night train. After some discussion, our hosts called the train station, confirmed that we can pay by credit card there, and sent us in a cab. The cab would wait while we bought the tickets, and then drive us back.
The traffic was crazy, but in some places the road was relatively open, so we were back to the crazy races between cars, vans, tiny two-person cab scooters, motorcycles and horsecarts. At the train station, the “sleeping car train” office took our reservation with a pen and paper. There was no computer. Aaand... cash only. Fortunately there was an ATM nearby. Factoid: the ticket agent has a sister in Toronto. She is a doctor. He loves Canada -- in the summer.
The ride back was quick. We saw a lot of dogs, who must come out in the evening to forage. We saw a family of five riding one motorbike -- two small kids squeezed up front with dad, and mom and baby riding on the back -- the baby in a blanket, held in the crook of the mother’s arm, off to the side of the bike. We saw a lot of sad things. When I see these things, I rage inside about the injustice of capitalism. All these things are preventable.
Back at the hotel, we were tired but happy. We couldn't thank Abdul enough, and hoped we tipped him appropriately. It's so hard to know!
Yesterday we couldn’t see Diego on the webcam -- the dogs were out, but he was not there, prompting Allan to email Dogtopia. They said he’s doing great, and tonight we saw him.
The whole time I’ve been writing this, the sound and light show of the Pyramids has been going full-tilt, over and over, in three or four different languages.
2.08.2017
giza
I was very pleased to have slept a full night last night. The time difference is so much easier going east. We hear the Muslim call to prayer very loudly, but I went back to sleep afterwards. Each room in this hotel is equipped with earplugs!
We had breakfast on the rooftop patio; all the seats face the pyramids the way Parisian cafes face the sidewalk. Breakfast consisted of breads, some herbed white cheese, a few hardboiled eggs, some fig pastries, plain yoghurt (really creamy and delicious) and bananas. Two highlights were halawa, a sweet made of sesame (my grandmother used to bring us this when I was a kid), and a few falafel. The falafel were delicious and different from the ones we see in North America. Here they are made from ful (fava beans). These also contained some pistachio. They were light and fluffy, and right off the skillet. I managed to get by with only two cups of coffee, half of my usual morning need. Our host has to walk downstairs for each cup. I couldn't ask him to do that more than twice!
After breakfast we headed down the street to the entrance to the Giza plateau, where the Great Pyramids and the Sphinx stand. It was a bit surreal, walking up past the Sphinx towards this crazy-huge structure, something we've seen pictures of all our lives. We've seen the pyramids in Mexico, and they are impressive and wondrous -- and these are almost twice the size.
We walked around all three pyramids. As we finished the furthest one and walked back towards the first, it had gotten considerably more crowded. The tour buses and the selfies and the screaming kids are bad enough, but it's not the crowds that grate. It's the touts. Men approach you constantly, trying to get you to buy things, or ride a camel, or ride in a horse cart, or whatever. And they do not take no for an answer. If you ignore them, they hound you. "I'm speaking to you. Do you not hear me? Most people say 'no thank you'." Then if you say "No thank you," that is taken as a sign of interest and it all starts up again. Sometimes a sharp "no thank you" will work, other times I resorted to "Please go away!" It is obnoxious, and tiring -- and it's constant. People have to earn a living. I get that. But these methods are extremely off-putting -- and for me, not at all conducive to buying!
The other thing I found difficult was the animals. Camels are adapted to the desert, and they move slowly. But are horses equipped for day-long exercise in the hot sun? They pull carts often loaded with people, and the drivers make them gallop. They appear to rest between rides, but they have no access to water and no shade. On our way out, we saw lines of horses pulling carts up and down a long hill. Some of the horses seemed strong and able, but I saw some who were really struggling. The pavement is worn smooth, and I saw one old-looking horse sliding down the hill, the cart behind it. It appeared terrified.
Before writing this, I looked for information about animal welfare or standards. I found some other travelers concerned about the welfare of the animals, and the Egyptian Society for Mercy to Animals, who endeavoured to feed starving animals when businesses were devastated from the sudden disappearance of tourism after the revolution in 2011. Other than that, I didn't see anything about standards of treatment.
So the experience at Giza alternated between breathtaking, irritating, and disturbing.
There's almost no interpretative signs, so groups have their tour guides and we used our guidebook. Allan has read a lot about the pyramids, and I studied ancient Egypt when I was writing children's nonfiction about ancient civilizations. Besides walking around the three pyramids, and the Sphinx, two other items are worth noting here.
In 1954, four huge wooden ships -- 43.6 meters (143 feet) long each -- were discovered under giant limestome blocks, buried under the sand. One ship was in more than 1200 pieces, plus miles of rope. Over a period of 13 years, one ship was re-assembled using the original materials and is on display. There's a gallery that gives an excellent view. You can also see the original pit it was buried in, and the 41 limestone blocks that guarded it, each weighing 18 tonnes. Wikipedia says that some scholars believe the ships were symbolic only, for the Pharaoh Cheops to sail to the afterlife, and others think the boats transported his funerary haul to the pyramids on the Nile flood plain. Factoid: in the boat museum, you are given canvas coverings to put over your shoes, to keep the sand out of the museum.
The other thing of note was literally a nonevent: our failure to get into the tombs. We had read that the passageways were very narrow, and that even a touch of claustrophobia would render the tombs impossible. We waited in line... only to learn there was a separate admission ticket. Then we waited in line for those tickets. Three different people told us to stand in three different lines. Then we waited in line again to enter. You cannot enter with a camera, and we were not about to leave our camera on the ground next to the ticket-taker, so we thought we'd take turns. I can handle those kinds of things better than Allan, I could give it a try and report back.
When you first enter, you're in a wide passageway, and air is circulating. (Everyone was taking pictures with their cell phones.) Soon after, there is a narrow, uphill passage. Small guide rails have been put in for your hands and feet, and you climb up at about a 20 degree angle. There is very little clearance over head, or on either side. And it's crowded. I started up, and someone a few people ahead of me started freaking out. She tried to turn around, and couldn't, and panicked even more, forcing her way backwards. I had only taken three or four steps, but it was already very hot and humid, and I was starting to sweat.
I stood in the wider part of the passage, trying to decide if it was worth it. When it was clear of people, I tried looking up the climb to see how far it went. It went a very long way. If it had been all in one direction, so you climbed in and then continued climbing out, I could have done it. But this passage wasn't built for tourists. There is one passage, and long lines of people are going both in and out. As I stood there considering my options, many people exited -- drenched in sweat. It just seemed not worth it.
Outside, I told Allan he wouldn't want to do it either, but I encouraged him to go see for himself. He came out shortly, smiling at the folly of even trying.
Although seeing the Pyramids was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, it was also a difficult one. I imagine it will be like this at every stop on the trip. Although hopefully without the animals.
We walked back to the room, our boots white with dust. We cooled off and cleaned up, then headed to a restaurant that sounded great. We hadn't eaten since breakfast, and somehow I was still doing ok at 3:30 p.m. (No idea why. Adrenalin?) Our hosts were very excited about our choice of restaurant and called a cab for us.
The restaurant, Andrea, is far off in a newly developed area called New Giza. There are billboards promoting it all over Cairo -- all in English. The restaurant was a knock-out -- a large patio of beautiful wood tables overlooking a valley, with colourful sails and sheets designed both for beauty and protection against sun and sand.
The food is simple but perfect. We had baba ganoush and tahini, then the flame-grilled chicken they are known for. And everything is eaten with this delicious fresh puffy bread. (Apparently good restaurants here all bake their own bread.) As we were eating, the patio was filling up with families and large groups. Servers went by carrying platters piled high with chicken and mountains of puffy bread.
On our way out, we saw women sitting on rugs, making the dough and sliding it in and out of brick ovens. They were colourfully dressed and obviously an attraction. They gave me a bread right out of the oven, and we took a few pictures, and tipped them. The bread... oh boy.
Then we had one of those ridiculously difficult times getting back, the kind that make you wonder why you went out in the first place. But we did make it back, in time to get our jackets (it is cold at night) and sit on the roof for the Pyramid sound and light show. You can see and hear it perfectly from the rooftop patio here.
Seeing the giant pyramids lit up against the night sky was an impressive sight. The narration was completely corny and ridiculous, with pompous music that sounded like something out of an old Hollywood newsreel. But it was lovely sitting on the roof, drinking tea and looking at the Sphinx!
* * * *
Readers may be wondering if I'm using the Arabic I've been studying. People here are speaking to us in English, and it seems pretentious and silly to reply in my beginners' Arabic. But I am understanding a lot of what I hear! That is pretty cool. I can pick out a lot of words, and I can hear the words used in context. I can tell you that Mango is as advertised: the speakers sound exactly like what I'm hearing. Maybe later in the trip I'll get to speak more? Whether or not that happens, I'm hooked on learning this language and want to continue.
Another question people will ask is about women -- how they are dressed, if they wear hijabs. Most girls over a certain age and women do wear headscarves, but some do not. Almost everyone is in modern dress. The girls look exactly like the Muslim girls in Mississauga -- jeans, sneakers, cute tops, cell phones, hijabs. We have seen a few older women wearing galabeyas, and a couple of women in niqabs. I saw more women in niqabs in Malton then I have here.
Personally I find hijabs either completely unremarkable, or pretty. In the tradition I was raised in, men cover their heads for worship, and many men cover their heads at all times. If a man with a little beanie on his head is unremarkable, then surely a woman with a scarf should be, too.
We had breakfast on the rooftop patio; all the seats face the pyramids the way Parisian cafes face the sidewalk. Breakfast consisted of breads, some herbed white cheese, a few hardboiled eggs, some fig pastries, plain yoghurt (really creamy and delicious) and bananas. Two highlights were halawa, a sweet made of sesame (my grandmother used to bring us this when I was a kid), and a few falafel. The falafel were delicious and different from the ones we see in North America. Here they are made from ful (fava beans). These also contained some pistachio. They were light and fluffy, and right off the skillet. I managed to get by with only two cups of coffee, half of my usual morning need. Our host has to walk downstairs for each cup. I couldn't ask him to do that more than twice!
After breakfast we headed down the street to the entrance to the Giza plateau, where the Great Pyramids and the Sphinx stand. It was a bit surreal, walking up past the Sphinx towards this crazy-huge structure, something we've seen pictures of all our lives. We've seen the pyramids in Mexico, and they are impressive and wondrous -- and these are almost twice the size.
We walked around all three pyramids. As we finished the furthest one and walked back towards the first, it had gotten considerably more crowded. The tour buses and the selfies and the screaming kids are bad enough, but it's not the crowds that grate. It's the touts. Men approach you constantly, trying to get you to buy things, or ride a camel, or ride in a horse cart, or whatever. And they do not take no for an answer. If you ignore them, they hound you. "I'm speaking to you. Do you not hear me? Most people say 'no thank you'." Then if you say "No thank you," that is taken as a sign of interest and it all starts up again. Sometimes a sharp "no thank you" will work, other times I resorted to "Please go away!" It is obnoxious, and tiring -- and it's constant. People have to earn a living. I get that. But these methods are extremely off-putting -- and for me, not at all conducive to buying!
The other thing I found difficult was the animals. Camels are adapted to the desert, and they move slowly. But are horses equipped for day-long exercise in the hot sun? They pull carts often loaded with people, and the drivers make them gallop. They appear to rest between rides, but they have no access to water and no shade. On our way out, we saw lines of horses pulling carts up and down a long hill. Some of the horses seemed strong and able, but I saw some who were really struggling. The pavement is worn smooth, and I saw one old-looking horse sliding down the hill, the cart behind it. It appeared terrified.
Before writing this, I looked for information about animal welfare or standards. I found some other travelers concerned about the welfare of the animals, and the Egyptian Society for Mercy to Animals, who endeavoured to feed starving animals when businesses were devastated from the sudden disappearance of tourism after the revolution in 2011. Other than that, I didn't see anything about standards of treatment.
So the experience at Giza alternated between breathtaking, irritating, and disturbing.
There's almost no interpretative signs, so groups have their tour guides and we used our guidebook. Allan has read a lot about the pyramids, and I studied ancient Egypt when I was writing children's nonfiction about ancient civilizations. Besides walking around the three pyramids, and the Sphinx, two other items are worth noting here.
In 1954, four huge wooden ships -- 43.6 meters (143 feet) long each -- were discovered under giant limestome blocks, buried under the sand. One ship was in more than 1200 pieces, plus miles of rope. Over a period of 13 years, one ship was re-assembled using the original materials and is on display. There's a gallery that gives an excellent view. You can also see the original pit it was buried in, and the 41 limestone blocks that guarded it, each weighing 18 tonnes. Wikipedia says that some scholars believe the ships were symbolic only, for the Pharaoh Cheops to sail to the afterlife, and others think the boats transported his funerary haul to the pyramids on the Nile flood plain. Factoid: in the boat museum, you are given canvas coverings to put over your shoes, to keep the sand out of the museum.
The other thing of note was literally a nonevent: our failure to get into the tombs. We had read that the passageways were very narrow, and that even a touch of claustrophobia would render the tombs impossible. We waited in line... only to learn there was a separate admission ticket. Then we waited in line for those tickets. Three different people told us to stand in three different lines. Then we waited in line again to enter. You cannot enter with a camera, and we were not about to leave our camera on the ground next to the ticket-taker, so we thought we'd take turns. I can handle those kinds of things better than Allan, I could give it a try and report back.
When you first enter, you're in a wide passageway, and air is circulating. (Everyone was taking pictures with their cell phones.) Soon after, there is a narrow, uphill passage. Small guide rails have been put in for your hands and feet, and you climb up at about a 20 degree angle. There is very little clearance over head, or on either side. And it's crowded. I started up, and someone a few people ahead of me started freaking out. She tried to turn around, and couldn't, and panicked even more, forcing her way backwards. I had only taken three or four steps, but it was already very hot and humid, and I was starting to sweat.
I stood in the wider part of the passage, trying to decide if it was worth it. When it was clear of people, I tried looking up the climb to see how far it went. It went a very long way. If it had been all in one direction, so you climbed in and then continued climbing out, I could have done it. But this passage wasn't built for tourists. There is one passage, and long lines of people are going both in and out. As I stood there considering my options, many people exited -- drenched in sweat. It just seemed not worth it.
Outside, I told Allan he wouldn't want to do it either, but I encouraged him to go see for himself. He came out shortly, smiling at the folly of even trying.
Although seeing the Pyramids was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, it was also a difficult one. I imagine it will be like this at every stop on the trip. Although hopefully without the animals.
We walked back to the room, our boots white with dust. We cooled off and cleaned up, then headed to a restaurant that sounded great. We hadn't eaten since breakfast, and somehow I was still doing ok at 3:30 p.m. (No idea why. Adrenalin?) Our hosts were very excited about our choice of restaurant and called a cab for us.
The restaurant, Andrea, is far off in a newly developed area called New Giza. There are billboards promoting it all over Cairo -- all in English. The restaurant was a knock-out -- a large patio of beautiful wood tables overlooking a valley, with colourful sails and sheets designed both for beauty and protection against sun and sand.
The food is simple but perfect. We had baba ganoush and tahini, then the flame-grilled chicken they are known for. And everything is eaten with this delicious fresh puffy bread. (Apparently good restaurants here all bake their own bread.) As we were eating, the patio was filling up with families and large groups. Servers went by carrying platters piled high with chicken and mountains of puffy bread.
On our way out, we saw women sitting on rugs, making the dough and sliding it in and out of brick ovens. They were colourfully dressed and obviously an attraction. They gave me a bread right out of the oven, and we took a few pictures, and tipped them. The bread... oh boy.
Then we had one of those ridiculously difficult times getting back, the kind that make you wonder why you went out in the first place. But we did make it back, in time to get our jackets (it is cold at night) and sit on the roof for the Pyramid sound and light show. You can see and hear it perfectly from the rooftop patio here.
Seeing the giant pyramids lit up against the night sky was an impressive sight. The narration was completely corny and ridiculous, with pompous music that sounded like something out of an old Hollywood newsreel. But it was lovely sitting on the roof, drinking tea and looking at the Sphinx!
* * * *
Readers may be wondering if I'm using the Arabic I've been studying. People here are speaking to us in English, and it seems pretentious and silly to reply in my beginners' Arabic. But I am understanding a lot of what I hear! That is pretty cool. I can pick out a lot of words, and I can hear the words used in context. I can tell you that Mango is as advertised: the speakers sound exactly like what I'm hearing. Maybe later in the trip I'll get to speak more? Whether or not that happens, I'm hooked on learning this language and want to continue.
Another question people will ask is about women -- how they are dressed, if they wear hijabs. Most girls over a certain age and women do wear headscarves, but some do not. Almost everyone is in modern dress. The girls look exactly like the Muslim girls in Mississauga -- jeans, sneakers, cute tops, cell phones, hijabs. We have seen a few older women wearing galabeyas, and a couple of women in niqabs. I saw more women in niqabs in Malton then I have here.
Personally I find hijabs either completely unremarkable, or pretty. In the tradition I was raised in, men cover their heads for worship, and many men cover their heads at all times. If a man with a little beanie on his head is unremarkable, then surely a woman with a scarf should be, too.
2.07.2017
cairo
Greetings from the Pyramids View Inn, Cairo, Egypt. Although I don't post photos until after we return (sometimes well after!), this is one photo you have to see now. This is the view from the window of our hotel room!
Seriously: the Pyramids of Giza and the Sphinx are immediately across from us. From our window we can see people seeming ant-size beside these mountainous structures, walking around, some on camels and horses.
So to backtrack. The flight was kind of crappy, the plane very crowded, with minimal room and not much in the way of comforts. But I prefer not to focus on those things, and not lose sight of the big picture. I don't want to become a traveler who forgets how lucky we are and can't tolerate minor discomforts. On the plus side, we flew nonstop to Cairo without delays.
It took a bit of doing to navigate the airport routine, and perhaps gave us a taste of the culture. First we waited in line at passport control, only to learn we should have purchases entry visas first. At the visa window, the staff -- smoking a cigarette, while at work! -- told us it was shift change time, could we go next door. Not another window -- a different company. That guy told us cash only, and we didn't have cash yet, so we had to get some Egyptian pounds, and start all over. It would have been funnier if we weren't so exhausted.
Passport control and customs asked us zero questions, just waved us through. And after retrieving our luggage, we saw a driver with the hotel sign, waiting for us. Yay!
And then: our first wild Egyptian cab ride. Friends who are nervous drivers and passengers, if you ever come here, you'll have to be blindfolded to avoid heart failure. The lines between lanes are only suggestions. Cars weave in and out of lanes, and between lanes, and around and through, passing and re-passing and re-re-passing, at highway speed. And our driver was answering his phone and texting most of the time! We gasped repeatedly, holding our breath as we came within a whisper of scraping cars on either side. Our driver was completely unfazed, of course. And lest you get the wrong idea, we were laughing and enjoying it.
It was a long ride, past zillions of huge blocks of apartments, and zillions of billboards in both Arabic and English. Every so often we would pass a cluster of cars and people on the shoulder, often with a large number of white transport vans. After a while we realized these were bus stops for commuters.
Once off the highway, we drove very slowly through an impoverished area. There was a lot of garbage and seemingly abandoned construction, but also many tiny cafes and food joints that were just opening for the day. We saw several people riding carts pulled by donkeys, both human and animal looking thin and tired. We saw this off and on all day -- including on the highway shoulder.
I saw a man on a traffic island stirring a huge cook pot, ready to feed people on their way to work. I was about to point this out to Allan, thinking it was a lovely sight, when he gasped and pointed. A pyramid. The Pyramid -- larger than life and visible between two buildings! We drove through some police check gates, to the hotel, with the pyramids and the Sphinx visible on the other side of the street. To quote Allan, holy shit!
It was very early, and we didn't expect our room to be ready, but our hosts carried all our things -- they wouldn't let us carry anything -- up a few flights to a small room they said we could lie down in while our room was prepared, assuring us that our real room was much nicer. We were tired and a bit cranky, and with a sleep mask on, I managed to sleep for a couple of hours.
We were woken by knocking on our door, profuse apologies, and more people moving our bags for us. A boy led us to our room, and with a practiced flourish, flung aside the curtain, revealing an unobstructed view of the Pyramids and the Sphinx.
I was desperate for a shower, so it was disappointing to discover we had no hot water. More conversations with our hosts revealed the hot water heater had been turned off, and would now need another half hour to warm up. (That is, a half hour longer than the 20 minutes we had already given it.)
The Pyramids View Inn is a bit lower budget than we usually do, the lower end of the "mid-range" scale. Our Lonely Planet guide tells us that Cairo is full of both high-end chain hotels and dingy crashes, but it can be challenging to find quality places in the middle. But the place is very clean, the hosts could not be friendlier or more helpful, and did I mention the Pyramids are right outside? It's the equivalent of about $75/night Canadian, including breakfast.
After showers and more bottled water, we asked our hosts to call us a taxi, and headed to Zamalek, a neighbourhood on an island in the Nile. Allan read that it was a great place for local eating, drinking, and people-watching. ("Allan read" will be a big theme on this trip. He's done almost all the research for the whole trip. Lucky me!) This was another long cab ride, slightly less crazy. Our driver charged 47 Egyptian Pounds (EL)... the equivalent $3.30 CAD. We did not haggle.
We quickly spotted one of the places we were looking for, a local chain with a fresh and gourmet take on traditional street food. This place -- Zööba -- was awesome. The decor, the music, the whole vibe was smart and hip but friendly and laid back. They have a huge takeout business, and they deliver, but in the middle of the small room was a long table, with pairs of people eating across from each other. We thought there was no room to sit, until one of the servers asked two women to move their bags for us. Everyone else at the table was young, female, and hip. And eating from stainless steel bowls with gusto. We were very hungry, and the menu -- in both English and Arabic -- was mouthwatering.
We ordered a bowl of koshari for each of us, and kofta and hawawshi to share. Everything was so good. Koshari is classic Egyptian street food -- a bowl of lentils, pasta, rice, and corn, in a tomato-based sauce. I had no idea what to expect, but it was totally delicious. The kofta, which is like a long meatball, very dry and flavourful, was amazing. Hawawshi is a grilled bread pocket filled with meat and ful (fava beans), with a coriander taste, similar to a meat somosa, but in freshly baked and grilled bread. We were very happy!
We asked some of the lovely young women near us about the condiments they were shaking into their koshari. One was obviously hot sauce, and the other was a lemon-garlic-olive oil dressing. After some of the women left, a large group of young men came in, very friendly and polite. It was just an awesome place at the exact time we needed it.
After eating, we walked down the Zamalek main drag, 26 of July Street. It is lined with funky shops and eateries, very obviously middle class, and everything in English. On some side streets, we passed many quiet coffee houses where people were relaxing, smoking sheesha. Lonely Planet tells us there's a coffee house and a sheesha flavour for every type and taste. I've decided that with my crazily sensitive respiratory system, I shouldn't be smoking anything. It's disappointing, as I'd like to try both the sheesha and the experience, but the idea of triggering a possible allergy or asthma attack while in Egypt is quite a deterrent.
Even in this neighbourhood among the more upscale shops, there was a lot of garbage, and random construction, and a lot of loud, noisy traffic. Kind of like the Upper West Side or Park Slope used to be! We passed a painting crew working on "scaffolding" -- sticks of raw wood lashed together with rope -- a guy standing on a rickety platform wearing no protective gear of any kind, trying to balance while rolling on paint. I could hear my union peeps all yelling "Health and Safety!" in unison. It's sad and awful that workers risk their lives like this every day, all over the world.
In the cab on the way back, the streets were even more congested and the traffic even crazier. We passed at least a dozen donkey carts walking on the highway shoulder, and once a man was driving his horse cart across at least eight lanes of snarled traffic.
Our driver wanted 100 LEs for the same trip we had paid 47 for earlier. I offered 50, and when he moaned about it, I gave him 20 more. If you're a wmtc reader, you may remember that Allan and I hate haggling of any kind ("the only good bargaining is collective bargaining"), but we are told that in certain situations here -- in the markets and in cabs -- you are expected to come back with an offer of half of what you've been asked for.
Tomorrow: the Pyramids, the Sphinx, and the rest of the Giza Plateau.
So to backtrack. The flight was kind of crappy, the plane very crowded, with minimal room and not much in the way of comforts. But I prefer not to focus on those things, and not lose sight of the big picture. I don't want to become a traveler who forgets how lucky we are and can't tolerate minor discomforts. On the plus side, we flew nonstop to Cairo without delays.
It took a bit of doing to navigate the airport routine, and perhaps gave us a taste of the culture. First we waited in line at passport control, only to learn we should have purchases entry visas first. At the visa window, the staff -- smoking a cigarette, while at work! -- told us it was shift change time, could we go next door. Not another window -- a different company. That guy told us cash only, and we didn't have cash yet, so we had to get some Egyptian pounds, and start all over. It would have been funnier if we weren't so exhausted.
Passport control and customs asked us zero questions, just waved us through. And after retrieving our luggage, we saw a driver with the hotel sign, waiting for us. Yay!
And then: our first wild Egyptian cab ride. Friends who are nervous drivers and passengers, if you ever come here, you'll have to be blindfolded to avoid heart failure. The lines between lanes are only suggestions. Cars weave in and out of lanes, and between lanes, and around and through, passing and re-passing and re-re-passing, at highway speed. And our driver was answering his phone and texting most of the time! We gasped repeatedly, holding our breath as we came within a whisper of scraping cars on either side. Our driver was completely unfazed, of course. And lest you get the wrong idea, we were laughing and enjoying it.
It was a long ride, past zillions of huge blocks of apartments, and zillions of billboards in both Arabic and English. Every so often we would pass a cluster of cars and people on the shoulder, often with a large number of white transport vans. After a while we realized these were bus stops for commuters.
Once off the highway, we drove very slowly through an impoverished area. There was a lot of garbage and seemingly abandoned construction, but also many tiny cafes and food joints that were just opening for the day. We saw several people riding carts pulled by donkeys, both human and animal looking thin and tired. We saw this off and on all day -- including on the highway shoulder.
I saw a man on a traffic island stirring a huge cook pot, ready to feed people on their way to work. I was about to point this out to Allan, thinking it was a lovely sight, when he gasped and pointed. A pyramid. The Pyramid -- larger than life and visible between two buildings! We drove through some police check gates, to the hotel, with the pyramids and the Sphinx visible on the other side of the street. To quote Allan, holy shit!
It was very early, and we didn't expect our room to be ready, but our hosts carried all our things -- they wouldn't let us carry anything -- up a few flights to a small room they said we could lie down in while our room was prepared, assuring us that our real room was much nicer. We were tired and a bit cranky, and with a sleep mask on, I managed to sleep for a couple of hours.
We were woken by knocking on our door, profuse apologies, and more people moving our bags for us. A boy led us to our room, and with a practiced flourish, flung aside the curtain, revealing an unobstructed view of the Pyramids and the Sphinx.
I was desperate for a shower, so it was disappointing to discover we had no hot water. More conversations with our hosts revealed the hot water heater had been turned off, and would now need another half hour to warm up. (That is, a half hour longer than the 20 minutes we had already given it.)
The Pyramids View Inn is a bit lower budget than we usually do, the lower end of the "mid-range" scale. Our Lonely Planet guide tells us that Cairo is full of both high-end chain hotels and dingy crashes, but it can be challenging to find quality places in the middle. But the place is very clean, the hosts could not be friendlier or more helpful, and did I mention the Pyramids are right outside? It's the equivalent of about $75/night Canadian, including breakfast.
After showers and more bottled water, we asked our hosts to call us a taxi, and headed to Zamalek, a neighbourhood on an island in the Nile. Allan read that it was a great place for local eating, drinking, and people-watching. ("Allan read" will be a big theme on this trip. He's done almost all the research for the whole trip. Lucky me!) This was another long cab ride, slightly less crazy. Our driver charged 47 Egyptian Pounds (EL)... the equivalent $3.30 CAD. We did not haggle.
We quickly spotted one of the places we were looking for, a local chain with a fresh and gourmet take on traditional street food. This place -- Zööba -- was awesome. The decor, the music, the whole vibe was smart and hip but friendly and laid back. They have a huge takeout business, and they deliver, but in the middle of the small room was a long table, with pairs of people eating across from each other. We thought there was no room to sit, until one of the servers asked two women to move their bags for us. Everyone else at the table was young, female, and hip. And eating from stainless steel bowls with gusto. We were very hungry, and the menu -- in both English and Arabic -- was mouthwatering.
We ordered a bowl of koshari for each of us, and kofta and hawawshi to share. Everything was so good. Koshari is classic Egyptian street food -- a bowl of lentils, pasta, rice, and corn, in a tomato-based sauce. I had no idea what to expect, but it was totally delicious. The kofta, which is like a long meatball, very dry and flavourful, was amazing. Hawawshi is a grilled bread pocket filled with meat and ful (fava beans), with a coriander taste, similar to a meat somosa, but in freshly baked and grilled bread. We were very happy!
We asked some of the lovely young women near us about the condiments they were shaking into their koshari. One was obviously hot sauce, and the other was a lemon-garlic-olive oil dressing. After some of the women left, a large group of young men came in, very friendly and polite. It was just an awesome place at the exact time we needed it.
After eating, we walked down the Zamalek main drag, 26 of July Street. It is lined with funky shops and eateries, very obviously middle class, and everything in English. On some side streets, we passed many quiet coffee houses where people were relaxing, smoking sheesha. Lonely Planet tells us there's a coffee house and a sheesha flavour for every type and taste. I've decided that with my crazily sensitive respiratory system, I shouldn't be smoking anything. It's disappointing, as I'd like to try both the sheesha and the experience, but the idea of triggering a possible allergy or asthma attack while in Egypt is quite a deterrent.
Even in this neighbourhood among the more upscale shops, there was a lot of garbage, and random construction, and a lot of loud, noisy traffic. Kind of like the Upper West Side or Park Slope used to be! We passed a painting crew working on "scaffolding" -- sticks of raw wood lashed together with rope -- a guy standing on a rickety platform wearing no protective gear of any kind, trying to balance while rolling on paint. I could hear my union peeps all yelling "Health and Safety!" in unison. It's sad and awful that workers risk their lives like this every day, all over the world.
In the cab on the way back, the streets were even more congested and the traffic even crazier. We passed at least a dozen donkey carts walking on the highway shoulder, and once a man was driving his horse cart across at least eight lanes of snarled traffic.
Our driver wanted 100 LEs for the same trip we had paid 47 for earlier. I offered 50, and when he moaned about it, I gave him 20 more. If you're a wmtc reader, you may remember that Allan and I hate haggling of any kind ("the only good bargaining is collective bargaining"), but we are told that in certain situations here -- in the markets and in cabs -- you are expected to come back with an offer of half of what you've been asked for.
Tomorrow: the Pyramids, the Sphinx, and the rest of the Giza Plateau.
2.03.2017
pupdate and soon off to egypt
Things are considerably calmer around here now. The three giant issues we were dealing with have all settled down. One, as much as I hate it, we've adjusted to Tala's absence. Two, we got our insurance settlement and bought a new (to us) car. And three, Diego's health has greatly improved.
Our big boy is not 100% yet, and it's disconcerting to leave him at Dogtopia before we reach that. But short of cancelling the trip, we really have no choice -- and he's not in a state one would cancel a trip for. (Trying to not do the graphic poop report thing, thus the vagueness.) We have meds and special food, and our vet is not worried -- which helps a lot.
I even managed to carve out some serious concentrated time to get both my library work and my union work completely caught up before we leave.
I'm madly practicing my Arabic! I wish I had started a few months earlier, or had gone faster at the beginning. I could really use another few weeks' worth of lessons. But maybe I'd feel that way no matter how far along I was.
I am still really enjoying both Arabic and Mango. Practicing on my lunch break using earphones, I've discovered that using Mango on a computer and browser is actually better than using it through an app on a mobile device. Not all features are available on the app. That seems like a design flaw: I'd much rather practice while relaxing on the couch than in front of a computer. Even so, Mango is terrific. I've learned so much more than I thought I would, and easily.
We leave on Monday, February 6. More soon!
 |
| The "new" wmtc mobile: a 2006 Kia Spectra with "only" 155,000 kms. |
I even managed to carve out some serious concentrated time to get both my library work and my union work completely caught up before we leave.
I'm madly practicing my Arabic! I wish I had started a few months earlier, or had gone faster at the beginning. I could really use another few weeks' worth of lessons. But maybe I'd feel that way no matter how far along I was.
I am still really enjoying both Arabic and Mango. Practicing on my lunch break using earphones, I've discovered that using Mango on a computer and browser is actually better than using it through an app on a mobile device. Not all features are available on the app. That seems like a design flaw: I'd much rather practice while relaxing on the couch than in front of a computer. Even so, Mango is terrific. I've learned so much more than I thought I would, and easily.
We leave on Monday, February 6. More soon!
1.30.2017
10 things you can do to fight trump-era nazism
Like all good people, I am horrified by recent developments in the US, and like everyone who has been paying attention, not surprised. I take hope from the immediate and powerful resistance that has been set in motion. But also at the resistance, I am angry, too. What took you so long? Let's hope it's not too late.
Here are a few things you can do to fight back.
1. Donate to the American Civil Liberties Union. For nearly 100 years, the ACLU has been fighting for the civil rights of people marginalized or targeted by the dominant culture. These are the people best equipped to fight back -- the best and the brightest of the resistance. Even a small one-time or monthly donation can make a difference.
2. Canadians, sign a petition calling on Prime Minister Trudeau and Minister of Immigration, Refugees and Citizenship Ahmed Hussen, demanding that they repeal the so-called Safe Third Country Agreement with the United States, which would allow Canada to welcome people fleeing violence from Muslim-majority countries and/or deportation by the United States.
You've probably seen Trudeau's tweet saying that Canada welcomes those fleeing persecution "regardless of faith". Here's an opportunity for Trudeau to make good on that statement.
Currently, if an asylum seeker residing in the US tried to enter Canada to escape deportation, Canada would turn them away, based on the "Safe Third Country Agreement". Read more about it here. Please sign the petition and ask your contacts to do the same.
3. Call or email your MP and ask them to support the above. Say it is a matter of great importance to you, because this is the Canada you want to live in. You can find your MP here by postal code.
4. Attend a demonstration against Trump's order and in solidarity with those it targets. In the Toronto area, it's this Saturday, February 4, 12:30-2:30 pm, outside the US Consulate on University Avenue. In cities across the US and Canada, it will not be difficult to find a demo. When you find this community, keep in touch.
5. Send a letter of support to a mosque or Islamic cultural group in your community. A simple act of solidarity goes a long way.
6. Share facts. I'm always surprised by what people know, and what they don't know. I've learned not to assume. Share what you learn with your faith group, your union, your spin class, your online community, your Facebook contacts. (This one comes with a caveat. Social media is great for many things, but it is not actually a form of protest. It can be the drug that keeps us docile and not protesting.)
7. Write a letter to your local media outlet. These still matter. Keep it short and it's more likely to be published.
8. Pledge to register. If Muslims are ever required to register with the government, be prepared to register in solidarity. If you have doubts or fears about this, now is the time to discuss with your family and friends. Vow to yourself and to your community that you will do this. It would be very fitting if the first, say, 10,000 registrants were Jewish.
9. Delete Uber from your phone, and don't forget to tell them why in the "share details" box. On Saturday night, protesters streamed into airports around the US to protest Trump’s anti-Muslim executive order. The New York Taxi Workers Alliance posted this:
Uber did the opposite.
Lyft, Uber's principal competitor, has pledged to donate $1 million to the ACLU.
I freely admit that this is another excuse to ask people to #DeleteUber and never use them again. Their abhorrent labour practises drag precarious work into new depths. More info here.
10. Check out Bustle. They're full of great ideas.
And a bonus: 11. Don't allow yourself to get overwhelmed. Each one, reach one. Take a small action. Then another. Eat, sleep, repeat.
Here are a few things you can do to fight back.
1. Donate to the American Civil Liberties Union. For nearly 100 years, the ACLU has been fighting for the civil rights of people marginalized or targeted by the dominant culture. These are the people best equipped to fight back -- the best and the brightest of the resistance. Even a small one-time or monthly donation can make a difference.
2. Canadians, sign a petition calling on Prime Minister Trudeau and Minister of Immigration, Refugees and Citizenship Ahmed Hussen, demanding that they repeal the so-called Safe Third Country Agreement with the United States, which would allow Canada to welcome people fleeing violence from Muslim-majority countries and/or deportation by the United States.
You've probably seen Trudeau's tweet saying that Canada welcomes those fleeing persecution "regardless of faith". Here's an opportunity for Trudeau to make good on that statement.
Currently, if an asylum seeker residing in the US tried to enter Canada to escape deportation, Canada would turn them away, based on the "Safe Third Country Agreement". Read more about it here. Please sign the petition and ask your contacts to do the same.
4. Attend a demonstration against Trump's order and in solidarity with those it targets. In the Toronto area, it's this Saturday, February 4, 12:30-2:30 pm, outside the US Consulate on University Avenue. In cities across the US and Canada, it will not be difficult to find a demo. When you find this community, keep in touch.
5. Send a letter of support to a mosque or Islamic cultural group in your community. A simple act of solidarity goes a long way.
6. Share facts. I'm always surprised by what people know, and what they don't know. I've learned not to assume. Share what you learn with your faith group, your union, your spin class, your online community, your Facebook contacts. (This one comes with a caveat. Social media is great for many things, but it is not actually a form of protest. It can be the drug that keeps us docile and not protesting.)
 |
| Photo montage thanks to Dave Zirin |
8. Pledge to register. If Muslims are ever required to register with the government, be prepared to register in solidarity. If you have doubts or fears about this, now is the time to discuss with your family and friends. Vow to yourself and to your community that you will do this. It would be very fitting if the first, say, 10,000 registrants were Jewish.
9. Delete Uber from your phone, and don't forget to tell them why in the "share details" box. On Saturday night, protesters streamed into airports around the US to protest Trump’s anti-Muslim executive order. The New York Taxi Workers Alliance posted this:
Uber did the opposite.
Lyft, Uber's principal competitor, has pledged to donate $1 million to the ACLU.
 |
| I heart NYC |
10. Check out Bustle. They're full of great ideas.
And a bonus: 11. Don't allow yourself to get overwhelmed. Each one, reach one. Take a small action. Then another. Eat, sleep, repeat.
1.22.2017
pupdate, pressure, and poor customer service
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| Diego at the beach |
I have been feeling very put-upon. Just before the Christmas holiday, Allan was in a car accident. He wasn't hurt, but the insurance company declared our car a total loss. Then Tala. And then Diego. Service from the insurance company was horrible, adding to the stress, and we needed to buy a car -- fast. All this while I am under a lot of pressure to get both library work and union work wrapped up before our trip. And we need a healthy dog before we leave, too!
This morning we picked up Diego from the clinic, and he is once again his happy self. A huge relief! Our vet strongly suspects inflammatory bowel disease, and is optimistic that a special diet and continuing medication will do the trick. The car saga should end tomorrow, when our friend M@ helps Allan return the rental and pick up our new (to us) car. We're bleeding money, but not for the first time, and undoubtedly not for the last time.
Two notes I wanted to share.
I have been raving about Rollover, the semi-soft dog food that we've been using as training treats. (I mentioned it here, here, and elsewhere.) We've now learned that the high fat content of this food makes it ill-advised for many dogs. Diego has been getting large quantities of this, in place of some of his regular food, for about 20 months. Our vets do not want to guilt us, but I'm sure it contributed to his current issues. If you are using Rollover, please make sure your dog can tolerate a higher-fat diet, and you might want to keep his or her regular food very low fat to balance it out.
The other note is about our insurance carrier, Aviva. Getting in an accident just before the holidays, I realize that service may be slower, and things may take a bit longer to sort out. But that excuse only goes so far. The rep assigned to our claim was unavailable for more than two weeks -- and then appeared only to tell us that we should talk to someone else. But there was no "someone else" -- our information was unavailable to other agents.
Meanwhile, the policy has a cap on the rental of a replacement vehicle. The settlement offer was unreasonably low, and we're about to be out-of-pocket for the rental, because of the agent's incompetence or unavailability. She didn't return phone calls, and when we asked questions by email, she would reply with a five-word "please call me to discuss" -- but would not return our calls. It was very frustrating, and created a lot of extra work and inconvenience for us.
Finally, Allan called the general number, asked to speak to the agent's manager, and left a message saying he was calling to complain. What a surprise, later that day, the rep called us, extended the rental, made a better offer, and mailed a cheque. I realize this may be an aberration, but I'm not so keen to deal with Aviva again.
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