In the course of our 18-month stint, books are one of the things that kept us at the borderline of sanity and outright madness. Getting from one point to another sometimes takes more than climbing out of the rear-window of a bus and certainly includes many long hours sitting / jostling / swatting along platforms, stations, deserted highways and treacherous cliffs. One certainly can think of better ways to put those hours to use such as soaking in a bath?
But then again, that would mean I would not be writing this in Luxor, would I?
I like to believe that books choose you with the resultant feeling like the rush you get going into a candy store should you be so sugar inclined. The surprise and colourful exorbitant mix of delight dilutes the convoluted python of intake that can overwhelm even the strongest constitution of senses. Books allow you to getaway, to chill and look cool hiding in the corner when you need to stay away from "just another 5,000-year old pyramid" and not fall into the jaded group of travellers.
Hence, I look dutifully into the latest book that found me - FM 21-76 US ARMY SURVIVAL MANUAL.
No, it's not a typo error. Reprint of the Department of the Army Field Manual, Headquarters. Someone had obviously left it in the hostel's collection of books and it was amusing reading the parts that he / she had scoured through with a lemon-yellow highlighter. It felt like I was being introduced to a person that I've never met yet I could catch a glimpse of his / her obsessions and neurosis. Thumbing through it, I thought I might as well entertain myself with what the day has in store for me...
Chapter 1: Preparing for survival
(a) Learn how to find and get food and water, how to use natural environmental features for shelter, how to determine direction, and how and when to travel through different types of terrain
Imagine author scurrying around along the shadows of the buildings under the scorching sun and past the 100th shish shop, hopelessly hoping that she may be in luck bumping into an Izakaya that serves fresh miso shiru?
(b) You should learn how to maintain your health, how to avoid environmental hazards, and how to doctor yourself.
Imagine author locating mentally the closest pharmacy to the hostel (that's pretty much it) and gulping down an unidentified herbal concoction (and fearing later that she may had swallowed mercury laced hibiscus drink... and it tasted like shit) resulting in her smelling lots of Tiger Balm to calm down the desire to violently vomit!
(c) You should learn about the natives in the area(s) where you expect to go. This knowledge and common sense will enable you to make contact with them.
Imagine author dodging tout brigade that bordered on rude harassment. Using the famous line in "The Saint" movie, she stood her ground, backpack and sweaty hat in place, demanding the 79th goon that insisted to show you the hostel that he can't even pronounce least know of its whereabouts to BACK OFF (I had always wanted to say that line one day and now I can tick it off my ultimate list of to-do's)
Welcome to Egypt!
From dodging drivers that will put NYC cabbies to shame and incessant droning of honks and beeps, you dive deep into the hardcore downtown joints of the freshest meat grills, pasta (can you believe it?! Pormodoro does it really well since we decided to give it a go when we got lost in the local hub and confirmed what my nose led me to through the other diners that gave a thumbs-up - only one thing - it's not known to the locals by its Italian name, it's Hassan's!) and Egyptian whiskey a.k.a. pungent tea, we crossed the Nile to venture into the usual suspects of Giza, Saqqara, Dashuor, Coptic Cairo, Khan el-Khalili (fantastic Egyptian and Indian cuisine ahead!), Citadel and the Cairo Museum. You know the drift - packed, utter disorganisation of massive amount of people and transport, old colonial inspired buildings that stood to sneeze off years of dust and pollution, dodgy camel guides, plenty of hot sand, ancient synagogues and Coptic mass, Roman pillars, all the orthodox churches in a mish mash between the Ottoman mosques and smatterings of greyish white uniformed "police" of antiquities & tourism demanding baksheesh from our guides that seemed to pass on the vicious cycle to us.
You've googled the photographs, you got the postcards, you've walked under the Sphinx's shadow yourself. We've looked forward so much to this country and truth be known, the ancient sites threw us completely off our axis. The Egyptians are a marvelous lot minus for one thing. For us, it was the final test of this leg: The Galactic Battle of baksheesh dodging has been launched!
Heck, even the boatman hinted that we were supposed to leave an "envelope" for him and his staff when we finished our two-day sail down the Nile. We tipped where it was deserving - like the creative Muhammad who folded a crocodile once, an elephant next with the towels in our room, and the other chap who took both our backpacks in one go without prompt. As for those who sat on their asses telling us the wrong time to get our breakfast (resulting in our gobble fest under 30 minutes while being scolded by the waiter for "being late) and the one who sat at the door opening his hand for money because we asked him how to get off the boat? No cigar, you get only a 5-fingered pounding from my palm if you so insist.
But there are other beautiful moments like when unprompted invitations to a Nubian wedding in Aswan, tea outside chocolate boxes of local homes that had little goats spurting out once in a while, an unplanned stumble into a soiree celebrating the circumcision of a 2-month old, midnight traditional music parties, cooling fresh aloe green sugarcane juices and felucca-spotted sunsets by the shimmering flow of the longest and one of the oldest rivers in mankind.
And then there's the constant mistaking of hubby being a local Egyptian boy who's got a Chinese girl with him. Plenty of Arabic questions like "how did you do it man?!" to a tirade of scolding because he was expected to pay the 2 Egyptian Pound temple entry fee when foreigners were asked to pay thirty times that on top of the other slew of tickets that we had no idea for what purpose. One printed for the invisible guide that was supposed to meet us at Abu Simbel and the Nefertari / Hathor temple.
We're at the apex of our trip here and before I smother you with more - I'll spare the usual anecdotes as you can search for the staples online - here's all my love until more adventures with my little stint of survival in the wild desert oasis of Egypt. It's a unique place to tickle the senses...
ps: latest tip was to dodge cabbies and ride the cheap horse cart. Will let you know later :)
