Day 2 in Cairo
I was supposed to be up at 9 a.m. to hit the road early with two friends of mine that I'd met at the hostel: Mahmad and Nas. Both Brits, one from Somalia, the other from Pakistan. (I asked Mahmad if he'd ever heard the saying "eat your food, there's starving children in Somalia"--he hadn't, but the conversation was...awkward/interesting (use your imagination).)
Well, we finally get out of the hostel at about 11 a.m. and head to the pyramids in a taxi. Now the pyramids of Giza are (who woulda thought?) a notorious spot for touts and hustlers. As we were driving up to the place these two guys tried to get into the taxi on my side, luckily Nas and I spotted them eyeing the door while trying to coerce the driver who they apparently had a "deal" with. I slammed my finger down on the door lock and Nas did the same on his side. Meanwhile, the two guys started getting quite agitated. Mahmad, who knows Arabic, was playing stupid and telling them we didn't want anything. But the two guys kept yelling at the driver who was stopped in traffic. They sat on the trunk of the car and hit the top of the car. When the driver put his hand out of the cab to wave them off they kicked his hand and out flung his previous cab fare onto the street. The driver, glaring, got out of the cab and picked up the money that was blowing down the street with traffic, and got back into his seat. As he tried to keep driving slowly, the two guys took turns pushing him through the window and smacking him on the head. Soon enough though we were off. All of us quite shell-shocked. Only a couple more kilometers to the pyramids. Already more hustlers were swarming toward our car.
We told the guy to let us off a little ways off so he wouldn't be attacked--we could deal with them--we'd just say no repeatedly. Anyway, that sort of thing is regular at the pyramids, and kind of taints the experience. Everybody who goes there is ripped off or hassled in some way. It's a real pity, but there is also real poverty in Egypt, so...(However, that said, I do not understand men who try and hassle tourist women traveling on their own, especially after they've said no, late at night.)
The pyramids were amazing, but also quite draining. A lot of the times we paid money in order to suffer the claustrophic underground climb through a narrow downhill/uphill path to a chamber, and back out. Throngs of tourists clogged the passageways, sometimes stopping to panic (oh yeah, real smart), or to catch the breaths. I only felt the mild creeping in of claustraphobia when this group decided to stop right outside the exit of a pyramid...we just stood hunched over about 30 feet down in the pyramid, but could see the light. Some people started hyperventilating near us and Mahmad and I yelled to the people to keep moving. I started to encouragingly (or maybe annoyingly) chant "left, right, left, right"...
When we all got out these people were gasping for breath--"Humdell'Allah!"...(Praise be G-d!). I had to laugh.
After the pyramids and the sphinx, we headed over to the stables to get a horse ride. However, let me just say that these horses were very ill-kept and had visibly suffered abuse. None of us felt safe or comfortable on the horses--people would joyfully whip them as we cantered past...causing them to seize up in shock and (I imagine) pain. We got off the horses as quickly as possible, paid the men and complained about the condition of the horses and their treatment. I didn't take any pictures.
That done...and unfortunately we'd been scammed--though we'd walked all the way over to the stables, the man at the front had followed us in and been from the "outside"--so we didn't get the good horses, just his horses (I hadn't seen him follow us, but the two guys told me afterward.)...in any case, I was too busy negotiating a good price. Good lot that did.
Exhausted, dehydrated and starved...(it was one of the hottest days in Cairo that day), we headed into town by taxi to get a quick meal. I was so famished I decided to treat myself and order whatever I like on the menu--mango juice, water, 7up, felafel, schwarma, fries, and four salads later...I was stuffed! (And it only cost me...$3. A normal street-food full meal will cost about $1).
The two guys headed back to the hostel to shower and rest. I had to go to the train station and get myself info and a ticket to Aswan the next day. Joy.
Feeling a bit faint, I carried on, walking down the street...and after circling about for a while, finally found the station. The problem for me was that the bus and train station are right near each other, and I was worried about ending up at the wrong one, and people only seemed to understand the word "station." (I now have a pretty good mime imitation of a train...I throw in some sound effects when I'm feeling particularly spry.)
When I got to the station it was mobbed with people swarming the ticket lines. I finally found my way over to the proper area to get my ticket (trust me, that took a while), and soaked through with sweat, joined the masses. An Egyptian tourist police man (originally intended to protect tourist, but now as corrupt as every other body there, and more a means to keep people employed) approached me and asked me where I was from. When you tell people here that you are from the States, they will invariably give you a wan smile and a thumbs up sign, or a non-enthused "good." When they inquire further and learn my father is Iranian, I get their true perceptions.
This guy was no different, and he immediately told me that the tickets were sold out and that if I wanted to wait 20 minutes and talk to him, that he could help me get a ticket--he kept motioning to his tourist police armband as proof of his legitimacy, but I was skeptical--hustlers will do anything in this country. I told him I'd check up on the tickets myself and let him know.
As I wandered around, some guy tried chatting me up and I pretended not to know any English, which was successful. The sleeping cars down to Aswan cost a whopping $52 US dollars, which must be paid in that currency. No can do. Another Egyptian man saw my plight and, muttering to himself, "mafia"...tried asking the different windows (first and second class regular trains) if they had available tickets for the next day. None.
I was this close to splurging and just getting a sleeping car, for "safety's sake"--that's B.S. by the way, the regular trains have pretty decent security and just make sure you're in a car with other people--when the policeman found me in line and motioned me over to him.
Oh! I forgot to mention, some guy had a seizure or heat stroke while at the station (I've seen this three times now during my travels)...it was frightful, and when he finally came out of it...he had a huge bump on his head and was very disoriented.
Anyway, as I was saying, the policeman motion brusquely asks me if I'm a student (you get a discount), takes my student card, and walks away. I stand there contemplating the possible losses--about $14 for the card...small price to pay for a big lesson. He tells me to sit down by this sign, but there my line of sight is obscured, so I move over to another seat and nonchalantly gaze over in his direction. He disappears.
About 10 minutes later the guy comes back and asks me again about the details of my trip--Cairo-Aswan, overnight, first class (I figure this will be "more secure" than second).
He disappears again, and when he gets back he motions me to a back room/cafe area. We sit down and get tea and a pastry (later I find out this is on me), and he shows me the scraps of paper and tiny piece of cardboard with pen writing on it in Arabic--my ticket.
Before paying the man I ask to see his badge (a card in Arabic that I cannot read), so I ask to see his gun (kinda scary), and then I get his name. By then nearly two hours have gone by, and I pay him, telling him to keep five Egyptian pounds for his trouble (he's already keeping another six, I find out), and then I pay for our tea. All in all, the whole thing set me back nearly $20.
As we walked out of the station, he kept repeating the train time, number, platform and car--he'd also written it out for me in English. He told me his work shift the following day, and then he left me at the exit. I walked straight ahead for a couple minutes and then circled about the exit to the entrance and keeping one eye on him fading into the crowd, walked swiftly over to another police officer there (with an armband in Arabic, not English) to ask him about the ticket. He seemed to think I was trying to catch the train right then, and kept pointing to the platform. Good sign. But not enough for me. I walked over to a cafe there and asked two young guys reading books in Arabic if the ticket was real. Yup, it was, and they invited me to join them for tea. I politely declined and headed back to my hostel--exhausted.
Of course, in the metro some guy on his phone keeps staring at me (all that sweaty shine), and when I race down the platform towards the front of the metro for the women's car (it was too late), I turn around and see him in the same car. He'd followed me. I took my favorite place in any metro--back to the opposite door/standing and ignored him while playing with my phone/texting. After about five minutes of him staring at me, he had to get off the metro. Woot.
When I finally get back to my hostel, I am aching for a shower. I ask the people working there about the ticket and tell them my experience. They aren't surprised. Apparently, that's how all Egyptians by their tickets to Aswan because it's just a big touristy line. There are never any tickets, but a huge blackmarket of tickets that the officers hoard for themselves and for the proper bribes, etc.
I'd only paid about five pounds (or $1) more than a regular Egyptian. What an experience.
After my shower (yes, there is more to this day), I get invited to a Nubian wedding, borrow a skirt from a girl there and off a bunch of us at the hostel go. Right next door is an Egyptian wedding...(Picture women in hejabs dancing to "Get your freak on...")...Arabic men sure can dance.
The Nubian wedding is far more conservative, with a live band and classic Nubian music, plus genders sitting and dancing separately. It doesn't get started till about midnight/1 a.m...and I am whiped. (By the way, I'm in invited to a Nubian wedding tonight, in Aswan, but I don't think I'll be going...).
We all head home at about 2:30 a.m. by taxi, and I chat with some people till about 4 a.m. and then crawl into bed. Oh what a day/night. The next day will be my last in Cairo, not only do I have lots to do, but I will be taking a night train to Aswan ("13 hours" supposedly) that next day as well.
Well, we finally get out of the hostel at about 11 a.m. and head to the pyramids in a taxi. Now the pyramids of Giza are (who woulda thought?) a notorious spot for touts and hustlers. As we were driving up to the place these two guys tried to get into the taxi on my side, luckily Nas and I spotted them eyeing the door while trying to coerce the driver who they apparently had a "deal" with. I slammed my finger down on the door lock and Nas did the same on his side. Meanwhile, the two guys started getting quite agitated. Mahmad, who knows Arabic, was playing stupid and telling them we didn't want anything. But the two guys kept yelling at the driver who was stopped in traffic. They sat on the trunk of the car and hit the top of the car. When the driver put his hand out of the cab to wave them off they kicked his hand and out flung his previous cab fare onto the street. The driver, glaring, got out of the cab and picked up the money that was blowing down the street with traffic, and got back into his seat. As he tried to keep driving slowly, the two guys took turns pushing him through the window and smacking him on the head. Soon enough though we were off. All of us quite shell-shocked. Only a couple more kilometers to the pyramids. Already more hustlers were swarming toward our car.
We told the guy to let us off a little ways off so he wouldn't be attacked--we could deal with them--we'd just say no repeatedly. Anyway, that sort of thing is regular at the pyramids, and kind of taints the experience. Everybody who goes there is ripped off or hassled in some way. It's a real pity, but there is also real poverty in Egypt, so...(However, that said, I do not understand men who try and hassle tourist women traveling on their own, especially after they've said no, late at night.)
The pyramids were amazing, but also quite draining. A lot of the times we paid money in order to suffer the claustrophic underground climb through a narrow downhill/uphill path to a chamber, and back out. Throngs of tourists clogged the passageways, sometimes stopping to panic (oh yeah, real smart), or to catch the breaths. I only felt the mild creeping in of claustraphobia when this group decided to stop right outside the exit of a pyramid...we just stood hunched over about 30 feet down in the pyramid, but could see the light. Some people started hyperventilating near us and Mahmad and I yelled to the people to keep moving. I started to encouragingly (or maybe annoyingly) chant "left, right, left, right"...
When we all got out these people were gasping for breath--"Humdell'Allah!"...(Praise be G-d!). I had to laugh.
After the pyramids and the sphinx, we headed over to the stables to get a horse ride. However, let me just say that these horses were very ill-kept and had visibly suffered abuse. None of us felt safe or comfortable on the horses--people would joyfully whip them as we cantered past...causing them to seize up in shock and (I imagine) pain. We got off the horses as quickly as possible, paid the men and complained about the condition of the horses and their treatment. I didn't take any pictures.
That done...and unfortunately we'd been scammed--though we'd walked all the way over to the stables, the man at the front had followed us in and been from the "outside"--so we didn't get the good horses, just his horses (I hadn't seen him follow us, but the two guys told me afterward.)...in any case, I was too busy negotiating a good price. Good lot that did.
Exhausted, dehydrated and starved...(it was one of the hottest days in Cairo that day), we headed into town by taxi to get a quick meal. I was so famished I decided to treat myself and order whatever I like on the menu--mango juice, water, 7up, felafel, schwarma, fries, and four salads later...I was stuffed! (And it only cost me...$3. A normal street-food full meal will cost about $1).
The two guys headed back to the hostel to shower and rest. I had to go to the train station and get myself info and a ticket to Aswan the next day. Joy.
Feeling a bit faint, I carried on, walking down the street...and after circling about for a while, finally found the station. The problem for me was that the bus and train station are right near each other, and I was worried about ending up at the wrong one, and people only seemed to understand the word "station." (I now have a pretty good mime imitation of a train...I throw in some sound effects when I'm feeling particularly spry.)
When I got to the station it was mobbed with people swarming the ticket lines. I finally found my way over to the proper area to get my ticket (trust me, that took a while), and soaked through with sweat, joined the masses. An Egyptian tourist police man (originally intended to protect tourist, but now as corrupt as every other body there, and more a means to keep people employed) approached me and asked me where I was from. When you tell people here that you are from the States, they will invariably give you a wan smile and a thumbs up sign, or a non-enthused "good." When they inquire further and learn my father is Iranian, I get their true perceptions.
This guy was no different, and he immediately told me that the tickets were sold out and that if I wanted to wait 20 minutes and talk to him, that he could help me get a ticket--he kept motioning to his tourist police armband as proof of his legitimacy, but I was skeptical--hustlers will do anything in this country. I told him I'd check up on the tickets myself and let him know.
As I wandered around, some guy tried chatting me up and I pretended not to know any English, which was successful. The sleeping cars down to Aswan cost a whopping $52 US dollars, which must be paid in that currency. No can do. Another Egyptian man saw my plight and, muttering to himself, "mafia"...tried asking the different windows (first and second class regular trains) if they had available tickets for the next day. None.
I was this close to splurging and just getting a sleeping car, for "safety's sake"--that's B.S. by the way, the regular trains have pretty decent security and just make sure you're in a car with other people--when the policeman found me in line and motioned me over to him.
Oh! I forgot to mention, some guy had a seizure or heat stroke while at the station (I've seen this three times now during my travels)...it was frightful, and when he finally came out of it...he had a huge bump on his head and was very disoriented.
Anyway, as I was saying, the policeman motion brusquely asks me if I'm a student (you get a discount), takes my student card, and walks away. I stand there contemplating the possible losses--about $14 for the card...small price to pay for a big lesson. He tells me to sit down by this sign, but there my line of sight is obscured, so I move over to another seat and nonchalantly gaze over in his direction. He disappears.
About 10 minutes later the guy comes back and asks me again about the details of my trip--Cairo-Aswan, overnight, first class (I figure this will be "more secure" than second).
He disappears again, and when he gets back he motions me to a back room/cafe area. We sit down and get tea and a pastry (later I find out this is on me), and he shows me the scraps of paper and tiny piece of cardboard with pen writing on it in Arabic--my ticket.
Before paying the man I ask to see his badge (a card in Arabic that I cannot read), so I ask to see his gun (kinda scary), and then I get his name. By then nearly two hours have gone by, and I pay him, telling him to keep five Egyptian pounds for his trouble (he's already keeping another six, I find out), and then I pay for our tea. All in all, the whole thing set me back nearly $20.
As we walked out of the station, he kept repeating the train time, number, platform and car--he'd also written it out for me in English. He told me his work shift the following day, and then he left me at the exit. I walked straight ahead for a couple minutes and then circled about the exit to the entrance and keeping one eye on him fading into the crowd, walked swiftly over to another police officer there (with an armband in Arabic, not English) to ask him about the ticket. He seemed to think I was trying to catch the train right then, and kept pointing to the platform. Good sign. But not enough for me. I walked over to a cafe there and asked two young guys reading books in Arabic if the ticket was real. Yup, it was, and they invited me to join them for tea. I politely declined and headed back to my hostel--exhausted.
Of course, in the metro some guy on his phone keeps staring at me (all that sweaty shine), and when I race down the platform towards the front of the metro for the women's car (it was too late), I turn around and see him in the same car. He'd followed me. I took my favorite place in any metro--back to the opposite door/standing and ignored him while playing with my phone/texting. After about five minutes of him staring at me, he had to get off the metro. Woot.
When I finally get back to my hostel, I am aching for a shower. I ask the people working there about the ticket and tell them my experience. They aren't surprised. Apparently, that's how all Egyptians by their tickets to Aswan because it's just a big touristy line. There are never any tickets, but a huge blackmarket of tickets that the officers hoard for themselves and for the proper bribes, etc.
I'd only paid about five pounds (or $1) more than a regular Egyptian. What an experience.
After my shower (yes, there is more to this day), I get invited to a Nubian wedding, borrow a skirt from a girl there and off a bunch of us at the hostel go. Right next door is an Egyptian wedding...(Picture women in hejabs dancing to "Get your freak on...")...Arabic men sure can dance.
The Nubian wedding is far more conservative, with a live band and classic Nubian music, plus genders sitting and dancing separately. It doesn't get started till about midnight/1 a.m...and I am whiped. (By the way, I'm in invited to a Nubian wedding tonight, in Aswan, but I don't think I'll be going...).
We all head home at about 2:30 a.m. by taxi, and I chat with some people till about 4 a.m. and then crawl into bed. Oh what a day/night. The next day will be my last in Cairo, not only do I have lots to do, but I will be taking a night train to Aswan ("13 hours" supposedly) that next day as well.
posted by IJW at 10:10 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home