It’s a Small World

Nine groggy, travel worn souls met at 8pm in the Cairo airport Saturday evening. Heath, Andrew and I maybe weren’t so travel weary but more having Shabbat hangover. In a good way. Our earnest meet and greet rep faithfully waved his Richard Tilton sign till we had all gathered and then we were herded out to the mini bus. For whatever reason, all the luggage had to be loaded through the back passenger window. Not weird at all. From there we headed to Hotel Eileen, an old building that must have been part of Cairo’s Illustrious days, right in the heart of the city. We were served the traditional welcome drinks of cold cantaloupe or hibiscus tea. Of course we were all hungry, so in spite of the hour we struck out looking for food.

March 1 was the first day of Ramadan, so things aren’t running on normal schedule. The absolute worst part of it is that Egyptians don’t eat Koshary during Ramadan. That is borderline tragic! Like honestly, even the famous Abou Tarek is shuttered. It took a long time of dodging potholes, warding off beggars, staring at google maps and listening to the incessant tooting of horns before we finally found a restaurant that was open and serving food, but not so crowded we’d have to wait all night. We sleepily ordered our food and proceeded to wait. They cook the meat on the street, so it’s very fascinating. And warm, in the cool desert evening. One of the waiters begged us to sing happy birthday to his sister, so we happily made fools of ourselves and did it. He was overjoyed.

Kids were partying with firecrackers in the streets, motorcycles roared around, headlights on or off, no matter, beggars patted our arms begging for food, cats lurked, and we even saw a couple 4 year olds with what looked like large clumps of dryer lint lit on fire. They would wave it around and make beautiful patterns in the air while sparks flew. I had never thought of that as a toy. I’m available to come to your house and babysit when I get home…

Sunday

After stuffing ourselves with the big breakfast spread, we were ready to rock by eight o’clock. Samaa was our tour guide today, and Ahmad drove our big Magic Carpet van. Destination Giza Pyramids, the Sphinx, and the Israel Museum. Crowds, crowds, crowds. It was so exceedingly people-ly. Garrett officially felt like we were cattle what with all the herding and guards yelling to “MOVE, MOVE QUICKLY, YALLA, GO!” It was vaguely annoying, for sure if you were so packed together you literally couldn’t move, but whatever. We might still be there if they hadn’t.

The pyramids are always awesome. So amazing, and rather mysterious, wondering what all is actually hidden in them. Apparently they just found another something a few days ago, so I’ll be keeping an eye on the Egypt news. We queued to enter the Great Pyramid, and pushed and shoved our way through with the best of them. If you were even at all claustrophobic, you could never enter. It’s airless, crowded and crouchy. We’d watch people coming out with sweat streaming, looking like they had just been trapped in a sauna, and it made us wonder a little. Well, by the time we had struggled our way back to the burial chamber, we too looked like half roasted street food. Some of the way you have to walk quite bent over, and some people just give up and crawl, or skootch on their bums. Others repeatedly thunk their heads on the ceiling. I kept wondering what would happen if someone would panic back there. It would be a serious problem. Even here the guards put on their mega voices and bellowed us to hurry, hurry until I was half expecting the pyramid to explode with all the noise.

After lunch at, yup, Kazaz again, we headed to the Israel Museum to see the ancient treasures there. Even Samaa and Ahmad couldn’t find restaurants open and serving. So strange. Kazaz had quite a limited selection for lunch, but we were fed a beautiful spread of bread, fava beans, salads, and some stuffed peppers, grape leaves and mystery something.

We sped from highlight to highlight in the museum, catching flashes of King Tut’s things, the mummies of Thuya and Yuya, the Rosetta Stone, and countless other stuff. The grumpy guard by the King Tut room got into a real row with a tour guide, so I found that fascinating. Samaa says they’re cranky cause of the Ramadan fast, and I totally believe that. If you couldn’t drink a single drop, eat a bite or smoke your ever present cigarette from sun up to sun down, you would definitely feel feisty. People did seem a lot more mellowed after supper.

The late afternoon and evening were spent chilling at the hotel or walking, depending on who you were. Yours truly slept a little, and then we all went for supper. Three guesses where. I know. Very boring, but open. Also we haven’t nearly exhausted the menu, so it’s not so bad. A desert shop called our name further down the street, so we hung around there waiting on our food for ages. There is a never ending supply of entertainment happening, so waiting is no problem. If nothing else a violent dog fight will commence. That happened at Giza, causing a flutter of alarm among some tourists. A random lady tried to calm them by flapping her purse in their faces, trying to stand between the dogs and in general not having the best of luck.

It was gonna be early to bed, but one thing led to another and, well, we tried.