Back flips and banana splits
Egypt, Egypt, Egypt. You dirty dog. Actually, I can't say that I really saw Egypt, as in the whole of Egypt. I spent some time in Cairo, then Dahab on the Red Sea, then left the country.
The Cairo experience, for me, was a disappointing one. Part of this may have had to do with the fact that I arrived from Thailand, where palm trees are (still) swaying, the touts are usually well behaved, and there are plenty of other backpackers around. My Cairo experience was not like this. There is virtually no hostel "scene," the city is busy (for better and for worse), and the hustlers are awful. Also, I have to admit that it was upon my arrival in Cairo that my sixth month summer officially ended (3 months in Seattle + 3 months in southeast Asia). And it was so nice being warm.
The Pyramids. THE PYRAMIDS OF ANCIENT EGYPT! The pyramids were the worst experience I have had as a tourist. I will use them to explain why Cairo frustrated me.
They were my destination on Christmas day, and I decided to do it as the locals do -- by taking a Cairo city bus, rather than a taxi, to see them. Stopping to check my map, I was approached by an Egyptian man giving me "advice" -- advice regarding the bus-stop, which I knew to be around the corner. This happens a lot in Cairo, and this "advice" is usually un-prompted and requires an exorbitant "tip" at the end of it. His "tip" was a request for me to buy him a bus-ticket. I politely declined, he asked again, I politely declined, he asked more loudly, I politely declined, and then he began yelling: "F*** off! Get out of here! GET THE F***OUT OF HERE!" It was causing a scene. So, you know what? I got out of there! "Welcome to Egypt!"
The bus dropped me off about 1/4 of a mile from the pyramids. On the way up, about a half-dozen men casually cut me off from walking up the road, explaining that the road is for cars and buses only. This seemed improbable -- it looked like the road to enter the Pyramids -- but it is not as easy as it sounds to contradict six calm, grown Egyptian men. I walked downhill with them, realized that we were now near a bunch of horse and camel stables, and told them quite flatly that this was very obviously not the entrance to the pyramids. "Yes it is." "No it's not." "Yes it is." "No. It is not." How to win this argument? It could not be won. They wanted me to rent a horse or camel for the day. I left, went back the direction I had come from, and lo and behold: the entrance.
At the entrance, I handed over the equivalent of $10 for a $5 entrance fee, received my ticket and student card back, and made it about ten steps before I realized that the attendant had never given me my change. This was my fault for not catching it -- and $5 is not a bad lesson -- but this was not an innocent mistake by the attendant, either. Next, a man approached me asking for my ticket to enter. I was about to give it to him, then realized that he did not work at the pyramids. "You don't work here." "Yes I do." "No you don't." "Yes I do, I need your ticket!" I walked past him, giving my ticket to someone who actually did work at the pyramids, and entered.
The next two hours at the pyramids were spent harassed by either camel/horse owners wanting me to ride one, or by some other variety of vendor. Again, I can take a lot-- southeast Asia has plenty of aggressive vendors. But these guys are really, really persistent... persistent to the point that I had to yell at a few of them. It would seem logical that the omnipresent "tourist police" would step in here to stop the harassment, but they do not. My only interaction with them was with a police officer who tried to lead me into a very obviously off-limits -- and not very visible -- area, so that I might give him a "tip."
The taxi-ride home from the pyramids ended with the driver demanding (and, I admit, receiving) 50% more than the fare we negotiated, and dropping me off nowhere near where I wanted to be. "Welcome to Egypt!"
I have presented the worst of Cairo -- probably the worst possible, save for physical violence -- but unfortunately this was how I experienced Cairo. To be fair: the city is beautiful architecturally, the Islamic Quarter is a very good place to wander, and I, like most westerners, really liked Egyptian food. Also, tens of thousands of people go to Egypt each year, many of whom have an excellent time. But it is the only place that I have travelled where I would actually recommend doing it as part of a tour-group. Hop on the tour-bus! Put on the blinders! And good luck going through the gauntlet.
Two of my four evenings I spent sipping beers with a 30 year old French guy with an impossibly French name (Guiler? Guillere?), sitting on the balcony of our 3rd floor hostel in the middle of Midan Talaat Harb, the busiest round-about in Cairo. Surrounding us were what would have been gorgeous buildings -- they looked like half-century old hotels -- were it not for the fact that nobody was bothering to rent the space or take care of them. In a very succinct, English-as-a-second-language way, he summed up the state of affairs of the city: "Cairo is like this beautiful city that is falling in on itself." Better than I could have put it.
Next stop was Dahab, Egypt, on the east coast of the Sinai Peninsula. During the ten hour bus-ride, the minority of Egyptians were pulled off the bus three times and fully searched; it was very thorough. Meanwhile, the foreigners stayed on-board and watched this take place. This is not a comfortable situation. It is a strange feeling to be in a country where terrorism is domestic -- i.e. the Muslim Brotherhood -- and where the non-nationals are the only group that is not considered a threat. In fact, we, with pockets full of gold bullion, must be protected from this threat. I can tell you that if I were Egyptian, I, too, would be pretty upset at being labeled a second-class citizen in my own country. But this is life in Egypt. Anyway, in Dahab I slept an incredible amount, did two very good SCUBA dives, and left for Israel.
I came up with a witty joke for my grand entrance to Israel, and it went like this: "What is your purpose for visiting the state of Israel?" "To find Jesus." "You are a Christian?" "No. I am a geologist." When it came time for the big delivery I handed over my passport and said nothing. I am pretty sure I would have been detained.
I stopped in Eilat, Israel just long enough to do a six-hour day hike on a very small portion of the Israel National Trail. I convinced a 24 year-old San Franciscan and 45 year-old Dutch man to go with me, both dorm-mates from my hostel. The first half of the hike was really, really beautiful, and after losing the trail, we were forced to follow a much blander car-path trail for the second half of the hike. Oddly enough, the guy from San Francisco went to high school with an old room-mate of mine from the University of Washington. "It's a world of laughter, a world of tears..."
(If this blog accomplishes one thing, my hope is that it leaves you with "It's a Small World" stuck in your head. Come on! Go ahead and hum it!)
Now... Jerusalem. There are a lot of reasons people come to this city. I came here to see a friend of mine from college, Adam, who I had not seen for over three years. I have spent nine full days in Jerusalem now, and just three of them were spent actually seeing the sights of the city. The rest were spent eating felafel and shawarma, watching one of the DVDs from Adam's collection, playing guitar, and going out at night. I spent entire days in bed, and it was wonderful. I did some very rapid traveling to make it to Jerusalem to see him, and relaxing at his apartment was a very nice break from this. His apartment is located right in a huge fruit/produce/meat/pastry market in West Jerusalem, and over the last nine days I have eaten approximately 1 1/3 pounds of Havla.
All three days spent seeing the city were in the Old Quarter, or immediately around it. I'm not going to try to explain anything about the Old Quarter. When it comes to history, this is it. You've made it. Take a look around. That is where King David is buried. That stone was laid by the Greeks, this by the Romans, that by the Mamluks, this by the Turks -- one right on top of the other. This spot -- right on this very spot -- is where Jesus did a back-flip and ate an entire banana split. How to take this in? It takes a lot of taking in. As usual, some of the better moments have nothing to do with anything historical. Today, while drinking coffee in the Muslim Quarter, I spent fifteen minutes watching a young (Palestinian?) boy ingeniously attempt to pull Israeli shekel coins out of a sewer by means of a magnet/metal-rod contraption. He was unsuccessful, but in the future I think he'll get it.
Tomorrow I am off to Jordan. I would be content to stay in Israel until the 18th, when I fly to Istanbul. But there is a must-see sight in Jordan that apparently must be seen, and it is called "Petra." So away I go.
The Cairo experience, for me, was a disappointing one. Part of this may have had to do with the fact that I arrived from Thailand, where palm trees are (still) swaying, the touts are usually well behaved, and there are plenty of other backpackers around. My Cairo experience was not like this. There is virtually no hostel "scene," the city is busy (for better and for worse), and the hustlers are awful. Also, I have to admit that it was upon my arrival in Cairo that my sixth month summer officially ended (3 months in Seattle + 3 months in southeast Asia). And it was so nice being warm.
The Pyramids. THE PYRAMIDS OF ANCIENT EGYPT! The pyramids were the worst experience I have had as a tourist. I will use them to explain why Cairo frustrated me.
They were my destination on Christmas day, and I decided to do it as the locals do -- by taking a Cairo city bus, rather than a taxi, to see them. Stopping to check my map, I was approached by an Egyptian man giving me "advice" -- advice regarding the bus-stop, which I knew to be around the corner. This happens a lot in Cairo, and this "advice" is usually un-prompted and requires an exorbitant "tip" at the end of it. His "tip" was a request for me to buy him a bus-ticket. I politely declined, he asked again, I politely declined, he asked more loudly, I politely declined, and then he began yelling: "F*** off! Get out of here! GET THE F***OUT OF HERE!" It was causing a scene. So, you know what? I got out of there! "Welcome to Egypt!"
The bus dropped me off about 1/4 of a mile from the pyramids. On the way up, about a half-dozen men casually cut me off from walking up the road, explaining that the road is for cars and buses only. This seemed improbable -- it looked like the road to enter the Pyramids -- but it is not as easy as it sounds to contradict six calm, grown Egyptian men. I walked downhill with them, realized that we were now near a bunch of horse and camel stables, and told them quite flatly that this was very obviously not the entrance to the pyramids. "Yes it is." "No it's not." "Yes it is." "No. It is not." How to win this argument? It could not be won. They wanted me to rent a horse or camel for the day. I left, went back the direction I had come from, and lo and behold: the entrance.
At the entrance, I handed over the equivalent of $10 for a $5 entrance fee, received my ticket and student card back, and made it about ten steps before I realized that the attendant had never given me my change. This was my fault for not catching it -- and $5 is not a bad lesson -- but this was not an innocent mistake by the attendant, either. Next, a man approached me asking for my ticket to enter. I was about to give it to him, then realized that he did not work at the pyramids. "You don't work here." "Yes I do." "No you don't." "Yes I do, I need your ticket!" I walked past him, giving my ticket to someone who actually did work at the pyramids, and entered.
The next two hours at the pyramids were spent harassed by either camel/horse owners wanting me to ride one, or by some other variety of vendor. Again, I can take a lot-- southeast Asia has plenty of aggressive vendors. But these guys are really, really persistent... persistent to the point that I had to yell at a few of them. It would seem logical that the omnipresent "tourist police" would step in here to stop the harassment, but they do not. My only interaction with them was with a police officer who tried to lead me into a very obviously off-limits -- and not very visible -- area, so that I might give him a "tip."
The taxi-ride home from the pyramids ended with the driver demanding (and, I admit, receiving) 50% more than the fare we negotiated, and dropping me off nowhere near where I wanted to be. "Welcome to Egypt!"
I have presented the worst of Cairo -- probably the worst possible, save for physical violence -- but unfortunately this was how I experienced Cairo. To be fair: the city is beautiful architecturally, the Islamic Quarter is a very good place to wander, and I, like most westerners, really liked Egyptian food. Also, tens of thousands of people go to Egypt each year, many of whom have an excellent time. But it is the only place that I have travelled where I would actually recommend doing it as part of a tour-group. Hop on the tour-bus! Put on the blinders! And good luck going through the gauntlet.
Two of my four evenings I spent sipping beers with a 30 year old French guy with an impossibly French name (Guiler? Guillere?), sitting on the balcony of our 3rd floor hostel in the middle of Midan Talaat Harb, the busiest round-about in Cairo. Surrounding us were what would have been gorgeous buildings -- they looked like half-century old hotels -- were it not for the fact that nobody was bothering to rent the space or take care of them. In a very succinct, English-as-a-second-language way, he summed up the state of affairs of the city: "Cairo is like this beautiful city that is falling in on itself." Better than I could have put it.
Next stop was Dahab, Egypt, on the east coast of the Sinai Peninsula. During the ten hour bus-ride, the minority of Egyptians were pulled off the bus three times and fully searched; it was very thorough. Meanwhile, the foreigners stayed on-board and watched this take place. This is not a comfortable situation. It is a strange feeling to be in a country where terrorism is domestic -- i.e. the Muslim Brotherhood -- and where the non-nationals are the only group that is not considered a threat. In fact, we, with pockets full of gold bullion, must be protected from this threat. I can tell you that if I were Egyptian, I, too, would be pretty upset at being labeled a second-class citizen in my own country. But this is life in Egypt. Anyway, in Dahab I slept an incredible amount, did two very good SCUBA dives, and left for Israel.
I came up with a witty joke for my grand entrance to Israel, and it went like this: "What is your purpose for visiting the state of Israel?" "To find Jesus." "You are a Christian?" "No. I am a geologist." When it came time for the big delivery I handed over my passport and said nothing. I am pretty sure I would have been detained.
I stopped in Eilat, Israel just long enough to do a six-hour day hike on a very small portion of the Israel National Trail. I convinced a 24 year-old San Franciscan and 45 year-old Dutch man to go with me, both dorm-mates from my hostel. The first half of the hike was really, really beautiful, and after losing the trail, we were forced to follow a much blander car-path trail for the second half of the hike. Oddly enough, the guy from San Francisco went to high school with an old room-mate of mine from the University of Washington. "It's a world of laughter, a world of tears..."
(If this blog accomplishes one thing, my hope is that it leaves you with "It's a Small World" stuck in your head. Come on! Go ahead and hum it!)
Now... Jerusalem. There are a lot of reasons people come to this city. I came here to see a friend of mine from college, Adam, who I had not seen for over three years. I have spent nine full days in Jerusalem now, and just three of them were spent actually seeing the sights of the city. The rest were spent eating felafel and shawarma, watching one of the DVDs from Adam's collection, playing guitar, and going out at night. I spent entire days in bed, and it was wonderful. I did some very rapid traveling to make it to Jerusalem to see him, and relaxing at his apartment was a very nice break from this. His apartment is located right in a huge fruit/produce/meat/pastry market in West Jerusalem, and over the last nine days I have eaten approximately 1 1/3 pounds of Havla.
All three days spent seeing the city were in the Old Quarter, or immediately around it. I'm not going to try to explain anything about the Old Quarter. When it comes to history, this is it. You've made it. Take a look around. That is where King David is buried. That stone was laid by the Greeks, this by the Romans, that by the Mamluks, this by the Turks -- one right on top of the other. This spot -- right on this very spot -- is where Jesus did a back-flip and ate an entire banana split. How to take this in? It takes a lot of taking in. As usual, some of the better moments have nothing to do with anything historical. Today, while drinking coffee in the Muslim Quarter, I spent fifteen minutes watching a young (Palestinian?) boy ingeniously attempt to pull Israeli shekel coins out of a sewer by means of a magnet/metal-rod contraption. He was unsuccessful, but in the future I think he'll get it.
Tomorrow I am off to Jordan. I would be content to stay in Israel until the 18th, when I fly to Istanbul. But there is a must-see sight in Jordan that apparently must be seen, and it is called "Petra." So away I go.
posted by conor | 4:59 AM
1 Comments:
You put me to shame with your blogs... :) Hopefully I'll have good stories in the future. love you and miss you...
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