Two Days in Egypt

I'm going to attempt to cover our two-day trip to Egypt in one long post to keep things more fluid and cohesive. (What - you think I'm just getting lazy? Nonsense!)

We scheduled the overnight tour last-minute, but it worked out really well and was a great value. We left most of our luggage in the rental car and took only our backpacks. As our tour coordinator dropped us off at the Israeli/Egyptian border early Monday morning, he told us what to expect in Cairo: "It looks like chaos, and it is chaos. But - it's authentic chaos."

We met our tour guide, driver, and police escort on the other side of the border. As it turned out, the four of us (Timothy, Brittany, Joseph, and I,) were the only ones on the tour, so we had the van and schedule to ourselves, which was nice.

After leaving Taba, the small Egyptian town on the Israeli border, we headed west into the desert. Our driver tore across the Sinai peninsula at 140-160 km/h, passing any vehicle that happened to be in our way and cutting into the opposite shoulder on the left hand hand curves. I turned to our guide Romani and asked what the speed limit was. He grinned and said "100."

The desert raced by - miles and miles of wind-sculpted sand, tufted sagebrush, and power lines. Between Taba and Cairo there were perhaps a half dozen checkpoints, staffed by police who are working at halting the illegal drug trafficking carried on by desert Bedouins. It seems the intersection of traditional and modern jurisdictions poses unique challenges for law enforcement.

Driving in Egypt is a singular experience; I wouldn't last 5 minutes behind the wheel in Cairo. In a city of 12 million cars, one quickly realizes that the horn is the most valuable part of the vehicle, with the front bumper running a close second. We spontaneously cheered for the driver's more ambitious and dramatic maneuvers; it was that intense.

In Cairo we picked up a second tour guide, a diminutive lady named Hepa who spoke better English and had a remarkably extensive knowledge of Egyptian history. As we drove from one place to another, she rattled off an incessant stream of facts, dates, and legend.

Cairo was built by Arabs in 641 A.D.. Of the 75 million people in Egypt, 20 million make their home in Cairo. (Most of the country is empty desert; the entire population lives on just 4% of the land.) Top sources of National revenue include taxes, oil, tourism, and exports, of which cotton is the most lucrative. The economies here are very politically driven; the price of gas in Egypt was a fraction of what it costs in Israel, just a few hours away.

Monday afternoon we visited the Mosque of Muhammad Ali. Above the courtyard inside the outer enclosure there was a copper clock that was a gift from Louis XVI of France. "It never worked," observed Hepa laughingly.

Egypt is almost entirely Muslim, but there is a significant Christian presence; the Christians comprise 10% of the population and control 40% of the economy. Before 1948, there were upwards of 2 million Jews in Egypt; now only 140 remain - a single synagogue.

Meals were included in the tour, and we took lunch on the second floor of a hotel in Cairo. I must say that the food in Egypt was some of the best we've had throughout the entire trip, and we were ravenously hungry from subsisting almost entirely on Larabars and dried fruit for the past two weeks (punctuated by the occasional pizza).

Before we leave the hotel, I mustn't forget to comment on the wonderful usefulness of Egyptian bathroom attendants. Now you may be wondering: What possible assistance can a bathroom attendant provide? Well, he can turn on the faucet, dispense the soap, and hand you a paper towel, all for the modest fee of 1 pound. Quite a bargain, really.

After lunch we visited the Egyptian Museum in Cairo, a multi-level building full of statues, tombs, and relics. There were no pictures allowed here, so I relied heavily on my handy-dandy notepad.

The metaphysical perspective of ancient Egypt was centered around the after-life. Life was viewed merely as preparation for death, and the wealthier an individual happened to be, the more elaborate the preparations. This metaphysic had interesting economic implications, creating a large and unique industry devoted to mummification, coffins, and tombs. Like Demetrius and his silversmith friends zealously defending the greatness of the goddess Diana, a large part of the Egyptian economy must have been entirely dependent on keeping this otherworldly focus prominent in the national psyche.

It is fascinating to observe the deep meaning ancient civilizations attached to everyday objects; those colorful and distinct ingredients of life such as plows, swords, birds, bread, and plants, etched on shields and statues and coffins. Despite the Egyptians' warped understanding of the universe, and even of existence itself, they somehow grasped the sacramental nature of things: whether objects, words, or symbols to bridge the gap between the two. When placed into a Theistic worldview, I believe this reverence and appreciation for the common stuff of life - something that modern civilization is almost entirely lacking - is natural and healthy. This is why I read agrarian mystics like Wendell Berry or urban aesthetes like G. K. Chesterton. They understand the magic of things.

Many of Egypt's antiquities are housed in British or French museums, and Egypt's requests to have them returned have been refused. When you think about it, it's a rather complicated problem: should these artifacts belong to the discoverers, or rather to their country of origin, heritage, and significance?

I must insert a brief word here concerning the absurd and rather amusing irrelevance of Egyptian metal detectors. As the never-ending stream of people pass through, they buzz continuously, while a few security guards stand by, waving people on. They're detecting metal all right - lots of it. To what purpose, however, I have no idea.

Tuesday we drove out to Giza to see the pyramids and Sphinx. There was a little girl sleeping against the open window in the car next to us, her faded jean jacket unbuttoned at the cuffs, the curls that had escaped her pony tail blowing in the breeze in graceful disorder. What does the world have for her? She was born here no doubt. What will she find when she starts to carve into life? It's a question I don't think Cairo is entirely prepared to answer.

The pyramids were impressive, although for some reason I expected them to be larger. We went inside the great pyramid and climbed up into the King's chamber, which was dark and empty; all the treasures of the tombs were stolen long ago. As G. K. Chesterton predicted, many years after it happened, "If the gold-hunters prevail, these also will lose all their ancient sentiments and all the mystery of their national soul."*

The main thing I remember about visiting the Sphinx is that it was ridiculously crowded - and this is the off-season for tourism! The Mamluks used the Sphinx for target practice - that's the reason the nose is missing.

History imploded
Dark and overloaded
Tombs and tyrants new and old
Sifted through for desert gold

Palaces on quicksand
Time will master all
Can you bind the strong man?
Can you break his fall?

City of the Dead (web photo)

Back in Cairo, we drove past what is called "The City of the Dead" - a cemetery where poor people are forced to make their home among the tombs, clambering over and disturbing the quiet of the dead, because they cannot find anywhere else to live. That community or civilization is in much better health that can still maintain a reverent separation between the living and the dead - possibly minimal but at least clearly marked.

We toured a number of Coptic churches and heard about enough wars and dates and canonized saints to make your head swim.

After doing some shopping and learning about how papyrus is made, we enjoyed a wonderful buffet lunch on the eastern bank of the Nile: steak, rice, beets, pitas, bell peppers, eggplant, and hummus. Delectable.

We concluded our tour with a short cruise out on the Nile, upriver through central Cairo, before climbing into the van and heading back to Taba. I enjoyed some strong Turkish coffee at a rest stop on the west bank of the Suez; the others had tea. We cleared the border back into Israel sometime before midnight, thoroughly exhausted. Time to hit the hay. Shalom and Good Night!

*G. K. Chesterton, The Napoleon of Notting Hill, (New York: Cosimo Classics, 2007), 75