Egypt Quickie Trip

Old Jul 26th, 2016, 06:14 PM
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Egypt Quickie Trip

Inviting my friends and commenters to offer their thoughts on an upcoming September trip to do a classic tour of the typical sights of Egypt. This time around I'm joining a group, and won't be able to go off road to do any long riding or camel adventures. What I would very much appreciate would be the typical terrific advice on what you guys think about bringing back. Those of you who have visited often and know the ropes, I'd so value your thoughts on authentic souvenirs, items of beauty, things that speak to the history of the place and where to find them that might be a little off road.

I've got about 11 days, Nile river cruise, most of the big sights, more on this later. What I love to bring home are odd, unique, weird, atypical but remarkable statements of a culture.

This is a mid-September trip, and I am expecting major heat. Those of you who have experienced this time of year, any additional thoughts about what to bring will always be most welcomed. Thursdays and Julie, and all you entrepids who know this area, hoping to hear from you. I will be providing a trip report once underway.

Thanks kindly to all in advance for all advice and suggestions. I read and take all seriously, and as a result, there are some amazing goodies in my house due to the intelligence offered on this Forum. In addition, if any has a cubbyhole, special spot, gift shop or hidey hole to recommend on nights off, I'd love to hear, and will share if I can find.
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Old Aug 20th, 2016, 11:12 AM
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I bought a few beautiful papayrus's Two are of old street scenes & one is the oldest calandar. I went to a good framer when I got home & love looking at them. Easy to pack
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Old Aug 26th, 2016, 07:17 PM
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Thank you so very much. When I was in Angkor Wat I got a rubbing, got it properly framed, and that inexpensive piece is now a gorgeous piece over my mantle. That's exactly what I'm hoping to find.
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Old Aug 27th, 2016, 12:05 PM
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yes, DH brought home a lovely papyrus of typical Egyptian figures [allla hieroglyphics] which we had framed and it still looks great over 10 years later.

Easy and light to transport too.
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Old Oct 20th, 2016, 07:18 PM
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Okay here is the trip, now that I'm done with that and I've taken another in the meantime. I'll do my best to relay the trip to express the jist.

First of all, I went with a group, which I rarely do. My first thought was to get the feel of the Middle East beginning with probably the safest and least conservative of all the Middle Eastern countries. Egypt is so very hungry for tourists, after the revolution the industry has taken a terrible, terrible dive, and the impact of it is everywhere. From vendors who are (quite understandably) very agressive to legions of starving horses and dogs, some cast aside in massive piles of garbage in Cairo's old town. You can't escape the reality of how the lack of tourism and the over dramatism of danger has kept people away.

For my part I was not only warmly greeted by a number of people at the airport, but was guaranteed safety by several ex military generals (I am ex military myself) who provided me with personal numbers in case I had any kind of difficulty, felt danger or needed help. People went out of their way to ensure that I as a single woman of a certain age, felt safe. When I stayed at a venerable, ancient officer's club in lieu of a fancy new place I was treated to the experience of very old Cairo, the only real elevator left in town that really works, and a dedicated staff. The soccer game that was on meant that every bar in town had a television place out on the street.Men with pipes filled every seat, usually about fifty or more making driving impossible. Everyone watched the game like this and I hardly saw a single woman in any direction.

My group gathered us all together at the Oasis, a rather questionable but well located hotel/ older resort close to the Pyramids. The newer rooms were acceptable. But as with so many Third World countries, the smoke in the checkin area made breathing impossible and this is the norm. We were assigned roommates, found food, and got our briefings. Walid was our assigned guide. Armed with a PhD in Egyptopology but a voice with the volume enough to explode eardrums, he called us "family" and would be our fearless leader for the next week or so.
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Old Oct 20th, 2016, 11:34 PM
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jhubbell - looking forward very much to reading about your adventures with the fearless Walid.

keep it coming!
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Old Oct 21st, 2016, 06:45 AM
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I'll be at this slowly but surely as I am now prepping for a trip to Cuba in two weeks with speeches and trips in between. Bear with me!

My stories about Walid are expressed with both affection and a sense of humor, as I have a lot of respect for his knowledge and especially his love for his country. However since I was usually seated up front at the table, or in the first seat in the bus, you have to understand that his considerable volume, delivered with gusto, and his penchant for lengthy storytelling (which comes from an endless enthusiasm for his subject) led to a certain penchant on my part for hiding under the chair, the bench, anything that might break the sound wave, with my fingers in my ears. That only slightly helped, as I could hear him just fine. Had I had plugs, they would have done little more than protect my ear drums from the onslaught. That said, Walid's effusiveness was a pleasure. You have to keep in perspective that our group was the first in three months, and his energy was to be expected, and if I were in his shoes, I most likely would have been just as eager to make us happy. That he was also armed with a microphone and we often wore ear buds only exacerbated the situation at times, which I add with some humor, so you can understand that I had to periodically remove said ear buds, wander off, or leave the group if for no other reason than to allow my eardrums to recover. There's actually a reason for this- as an adventure traveler, I have had some ten serious concussions resulting from Class V river rafting, horseback riding, and every kind of sport you can imagine over the last five years, and those concusssion have had side effects. Apparently this sensitivity seems to be one. I'm not without a sense of humor about it, it hasn't slowed me down a bit, but it does mean I have to be a bit more circumspect about volume.
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Old Oct 21st, 2016, 08:00 AM
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The trip to see the Pyramids- what I thought would be a trek- was a quick drive to the edge of town the next day. Busy work traffic, and suddenly these icons are looming on the horizon. There was something jarring about seeing such ancient buildings that one's impressions would think would be placed in some isolated spot. But no, here they are, with neighborhoods right up to their edge. Our bus parked nearby and we gathered for Walid to pontificate about the stories. Again, volume. I was eyeing the camels- one of my favorite animals- off to the side as Walid plied us with stories, and warnings about who to avoid and why, whether to go down inside the pyramids (no, don't bother) and what was next. This went on a little long for my taste and besides, my crouching position on the floor beneath the first bench on the bus got uncomfortable after half an hour (Walid is profound). Finally he gave way and allowed us to disembark. We poured forth and I made beeline for the camels.

I've spent a fair amount of time with them, and I carry a forty dollar goat hair brush for their faces- this brush is extremely soft, great for eyes. You have to get their permission to touch, and you do that through the owners, who are eager to get you to ride them. I only want to pet, don't care about photos. I've taken long safaris in Africa so my interest really is in the animals themselves, which are imperial, funny, sensitive and, IF they choose to like you, will ALLOW you to pet them. You get there through the handler.

This took some doing, for natch the handler assumed that if I didn't ride he didn't get paid. We sorted ourselves out, and finally he gave me the skinny on his big boy. One step led to another. I am an animal masseuse, and almost every time if an animal is wearing a bridle or a halter, the skin underneath itches, and the animal loves it if you scratch where the leather or rope has been irritating. Worked for this boy. Soon as I got my nails going under his neck he laid out his head, closed his eyes, and a few of the men nearby started laughing. Once I did this and he could smell himself on my hands, relate the good feeling to my smell, he wasn't going to bite me. Works with most any animal I've ever massaged.

He trusted me to scrub the inside of his ears, which is a miracle for most domesticated animals of this kind as it doesn't occur to most owners to do this. Next to heaven. That won me a buss to the face, which doesn't smell very good but is the highest compliment you can get from an animal this big who can kill you with a kick or, if he really does like you, can pick you up with his teeth and send you flying quite a few feet. This boy was on the ground, and he wasn't moving as long as I was willing to give him all this attention.

Finally, knowing we had limited time, I paid the owner 15 LE and headed over to the pyramid.

While I have heard some wags complain that the pyramids aren't as big as expected (a complaint also thrown at the Sphinx, which is smaller, but honestly?) when you are inspecting the size and solid nature of each of the blocks that make up the base of the pyramids, it boggles the mind. The logistics of moving the blocks to this location, the design of the buildings, the planning, the orchestration of the tombs, that kind of insult demonstrates the lack of appreciation of the time this was all accomplished. As with Mayan culture or any architectural achievement long ago, how easy it is to forget nobody had cranes back then.

The heat rose swiftly, even though this was September and we were called back to the air conditioned bus. Our next destination was the third pyramid, where the option to ride a camel (of COURSE) for half an hour or walk to these smaller structures was made. A young man whose camel sported some very cool tatoos, and whose camel made some toothy swipes at me (they will at times) was my choice.

Mounting a camel is a most simple process. If you watch the way a camel rises, you move in a way that supports the camel's movement. There is no need to hold on to the horn of the saddle, most of us who ride simply hold on with the legs. When the front of the animal rises, you lean forward. When the rear rises, you lean backwards. That supports where the animal is using its strength, and puts the least amount of burden on him as he is rising. The walk is like a long, lazy stroll. Like riding a horse, you sit straight and your hips move with him. While I have seen many a Bedouin ride hunched over like a turtle, this is wicked on the back long term. I rode a camel for seven days across Tanzania. Every country is different. I've ridden horses nine hours a day for three weeks straight. All I know is that good posture protects my spine. I look at the elders and the shape they are in, and if they are walking around looking like old turtles, then I am going to ride sitting up straight. I can't speak for anyone else, but I've found that allowing my upper body to be still and the hips to follow the animal tends to be a pretty good way to ride.

Our group set out en masse to see the three pyramids from another and more scenic viewpoint. Each camel's owner had draped his animal with a uniquely gorgeous patterned blanket to attract tourists. My camel's neck had tattoos, likely just shaved into his neck and dyed. I doubt he would have been patient enough to endure the tattoo needle. As we made our ponderous way towards the pyramids we would stop for photo ops against the backdrop of these magnificent structures, the wind in our faces, and blowing the turbans of our guides.

Periodically I reached forward and stroked my animal's neck and found a spot where the rope scratched him. His ears switched back, the only indication that he acknowledge my presence.

When we got back, I took the last few minutes to convince my tatooed camel buddy to allow me to scrub his ears- now this he DID like- and I tipped my guide. We were off for lunch.

Lunch was at a little stop and go. Now this would have been fine but for the fact that everyone in there smoked. Cigarette smoke tends to give me bad headaches so I'm not terribly fond of being trapped in small spaces, my clothing soaking up the reek, standing in line with my food, a long line at that, while a great many people puff and puff and fill the air. So I left. Egypt is like that. You CAN leave but you WILL go hungry.

Walid took us to a perfume oils perveyor. NOw I have mixed impressions about such visits. Guides get kickbacks from these visits, its part of how they make money. However, we are all expected to buy something, and while I find it mildly and at times, genuinely interesting to learn about where perfume oils come from (and in this case it WAS an education) I don't buy stuff like this. I most certainly don't choose to carry a mass of delicate oils in my luggage, don't wear the stuff and have no one to give it to. While this doens't apply to us all, I wasn't alone in this after there were three such side trips to stone carvers and the like. When the visits end up eating some two to three hours out of the day and the implication is that we buy, and many people resent the implied pressure to purchase something when we'd have rather spent that time in the market or a museum, well you get my drift.

Later we went to the National Museum. Here, we outfitted with ear buds. Oy. This was like Walid on steroids. As we entered this extraordinary and marvelous museum of Egyptian antiquities, Walid's voice was a bit like standing in front of ten foot tall speaker at a Poison concert.

I pulled the ear buds out and wandered. And took photos and photos and photos and photos. I kept the group in my peripheral vision and could hear Walid just fine even in the cavernous halls, even with the murmurings of other groups.

The massive status, the tombs, everything we have all seen in photos was laid out for us to see touch. To touch. What an extraordinary thing. Touch the hieroglyphs themselves. This perhaps was what drew me so much. As I moved silently among these ancient yet so familiar figures from my childhood, now touching, studying, some of them with crystalline eyes nearly focusing on my own, I was mesmerized. A walking monk so lifelike he terrified the diggers.

We didn't have enough time to see it all. Up the stairs we went to see Tutenkhamen's exhibition, which is breathtaking. And here was one of the few times I got annoyed at Walid. He drew us all into a circle in a corner and began to tell stories. Yet beyond our small corner become this young king's ransom of beauties, treasures and priceless artifacts. We had very limited time. I did not wish to spend it listening to stories. I wanted to SEE. Photograph. Touch. Explore. I may never be here again, given my penchant to not return to countries, given my age and how many there are yet to see. So I walked away, and since I was on the periphery in the shadow,probably unnoticed.

While I know this might be disrespectful, at some point I have to pose the question of what I'm investing in. Walid's stories or the things I paid to see- and that's the problem. Walid and I had already had some long conversations and he understood my interests. I came to learn- but it's also an issue of quality time. We only had limited time and how does one choose to spend it? So I wandered among the sarcophogi, the tombs, the gold, the scarabs. Places where later, when Walid disbanded the group, we didn't have time to go. And that's my point. I have photos of exquisite painting and vases and faces and artwork that I would have missed. It's a hard choice.

We finally made our way to an inner sanctum to see the boy king's greatest treasures, the pure gold masks. This was what has often traveled the world, what I saw in New York years ago. The gold beds, the heartbreakingly beautiful artwork. Walid filled in the story of the politics surround his life, and we got to see the glory of his death.
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Old Oct 21st, 2016, 09:15 AM
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I'll be at this slowly but surely as I am now prepping for a trip to Cuba in two weeks with speeches and trips in between. Bear with me!>>

exciting. We went last January and loved it. You're probably all sorted by now but if you want to ask me any Qs, go ahead.

thanks for sharing your thoughts about your trip, the good and the bed. And your tales about the camels are fascinating.
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Old Oct 21st, 2016, 01:06 PM
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Our next stop was a perfumer. Now those of you who have been on these trips know that there are gratuitous side bars involving concessions, some of interest, some not so much. They often involve people the guide knows well, and he gets a commission from anything sold from the visit. That's how it works. We had about three of these. This first, I found interesting enough, albeit I don't use this kind of perfume oil, don't wish to carry a bunch of precious vials in my luggage and have no one to give them to. The story behind them is indeed engaging and for that, which was educational, I enjoyed it. The sales part, not so much. My group was patient, and I'll jump ahead here and note that by the trip's end had endured three such trips and gotten weary of two and three hour imposed "side trips" to merchants with the clear implication that we were all to buy something. I understand a tough economy but most of us would rather choose our own goods in the market place and as well, spend our time in the museums, which is after all why we are here. That enough of my fellows chose to speak up made it worthwhile to mention it here, it became an imposition. The groups are a closed, controlled community much of the time for good reason, and we are polite about that control, and we trust that we are being shown worthwhile sights. Occasionally that trust is taken a bit too far and that is why I mention it here. That's all.
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Old Oct 21st, 2016, 01:16 PM
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That night, some flew to Aswan, for extra, others of us boarded an overnight train. That was pretty fun, although I most certainly would not recommend the food which was primarily bread, bread, bread and a great deal more bread. As one who does not eat bread at all, this was something of a surprise. I did order a different meal, and got someone else's vegetarian dinner, gave it back, and got bread. So I skipped dinner. That night the beds came down and we were treated (and I happen to like this) a rockety rail ride that took all night. I slept well. The toilets were down the hall, and we were admonished to PLEASE not use them at the station. Apparently whatever we did would sit on the rails at the station. Poor form. Advice taken.

It is a fine thing to remember to pack almond butter packets to ensure that at least some nourishment can be had when none is available, also when little clean water is available, I use the NatGeo and very strongly recommended SteriPen. They come in various sizes. I've used them on some pretty ugly water. It does NOT improve taste or color. What it DOES do is save your guts. I never leave home without it, and as some of my pals who climbed Everest Base Camp with me a few years back can attest, it works just fine. Carry extra batteries, you only need one water bottle the entire trip.

I also sleep in my day pants, because whether they are REI or North Face versions, having to get up in the middle of the night on a rocking train (or wherever) and attempting to do the one-legged Masai stork dance of getting on your pants to go pee is ridiculous and dangerous at best. Wear the damned things. You can change your undies in the morning when you are stopped.
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Old Oct 25th, 2016, 06:15 PM
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Having some trouble posting on here so moving to another trip report to continue.
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Old Oct 26th, 2016, 05:27 AM
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Ah! It IS still working- apparently it's a Windows 10 problem, my apologies.

Okay to continue.

Aswan is a very substantial city, and part of our itinerary included heading out to the dam. While I can understand that this is architecturally and historically interesting, and it is, I'm not sure how long a visit is necessary, and I would also not recommend a lengthy stand in the sun while breathing in the noxious smelling waters below. They do stink. The dam is impressive, it is historic and interesting. Walid gathered the Family and held court in the >100 degree weather, and having learned my lesson by now I inched my way back towards the bus and found a spot of shade. Not much cooler. The group was wilting in the brutal sun, I climbed aboard and caught up on my writing. About twenty minutes later my sweaty compatriots came aboard and glared at me.
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Old Oct 26th, 2016, 05:42 AM
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Abu Simbel was our next adventure, the extraordinary temples that Ramses II built to himself (there were many) in part to scare off anyone who dared to encroach on his territory, and I swear, because he really really really really liked his own image. It would be ludicrous for me to try to describe the enormity of these temples, the pictures one can research online suffice. They are easily researched. Inside the Ramses Temple the man simply had more images of himself - huge ones- built in columns, one after another. Off to the side, he did offer his gorgeous bride Nefertiti something of a slight honor, her won temple. You can do hers in a five minute tour, his takes about twenty. Men. The scale of these temples really is remarkable. What is probably more remarkable is the story of how these temples had to be moved away from the encroaching waters of the lake, in order to preserve them for posterity, which we are all of us very glad they did, for they are indeed breath taking.

Perhaps - and this is something I find incredible- the ability to simply touch the walls, the hieroglyphics, ancient stones that were made into these images is extraordinary. I was a bit put off by the fact that so many tourists insist on taking photographs when the signs indicate that this is forbidden. Clearly the rules don't apply to YOU, I guess. The antiquities, the paint, the nature of the walls are all very delicate, and flashes have an impact. But the rules don't apply to YOU, I guess. As long as YOU get your photos, that's all that matters. Pardon my sarcasm but increasingly I get short tempered with the remarkable lack of regard for rules for other countries' precious treasures. To this I say, were I to come to Japan, and treat your country's treasures with the same deep disrespect and disregard, precisely how would that make you feel?

Exactly.

Move on, please.

The temples are invariably surrounded by cheap bazaars, and the bazaars have food, and cheap trinkets and desperate people trying to make a living. The parking lot were we had put our buses were also met by a number of uber skinny dogs. I have a very bad habit of petting anything and everything that approaches me, and this was no exception. The two heart achingly skinny specimens that came up to me here were nursing mothers. Their bodies were emaciated. They were not only starving for food, but also for affection, and I found it interesting that they were far more interested in the latter. When I returned from temples, I found both mommies and sat on the ground, whereupon they both plopped either on my lap or next to me to luxuriate in desperately needed physical attention. Puppies marched over to nurse. Their owners tried to sell off the puppies for 100LE apiece, then pushed me to buy white bread for the animals. The owners were all extremely well fed themselves, which annoyed me further, since they didn't seem to care to share that largesse with these starving creatures. Not my country, not my culture. I spent about forty minutes with the dogs, with tourists coming by to play with the puppies, often bringing food and water over. At least for that day, for that hour, these monkeys got some kindness. I see this kind of heartbreak everywhere and you get immured to it.
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Old Oct 26th, 2016, 10:55 AM
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jhubbel - as ever you write so vividly, and share the good and the bad for which I thank you.

A warning about Cuba - their treatment of animals, particularly the horses, can be quite distressing. We saw horses kept out in the sun for hours with no access to water so far as we could see. No way to do anything about it so in the end we tried not to think about it.

Personally I can't see why you would mistreat the beast that helps you make your living, but there is it.
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Old Oct 26th, 2016, 03:07 PM
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While at the Dam we also had taken the time to visit the Philae Temple, which has lovely Grecian influences, and is dedicated to Isis. What probably fascinated me most was how similar this temple was in some ways to what I've see in Cambodia and elsewhere in this regard: the covering of every available surface with artwork. Every column, the ceilings, every inch was decorated, painted or carved or both. While I explored (while Walid talked) and took photos, and wandered beneath the enormous carvings that towered over my head, at some point you are simply defeated by the task of recording, and can only gawk. And in gawking, appreciate. There are some moments that one stumbles upon, almost by accident. An open window that affords a perfect view of the Nile along with rocky outcroppings, flying birds, rich green foliage, much like a painting. A cool breeze, most welcome in this heat. The perfect play of sunlight and shadow. We were there just before lunch, and at that particular time of day the rising sun lay slabs of buttery light which cut across the sand and rock, painting shadows in the columns, creating color patterns of ochre and yellow and orange. It was a photographer's delight. Again, I felt guilty about leaving my group to Walid, but I'd have missed out on several hundred prime shots which bring back memories of that perfectly lovely morning. Tracing my fingers on the curves of ancient figures, hieroglyphs, feeling the heat and cool of shadows, and exploring the stories told in the movements of gods, goddesses, and my favorite of all, Isis.
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Old Oct 26th, 2016, 03:18 PM
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Annhig,

I hear you. I saw it in Egypt too, haven't gotten that far yet. While I was in Costa Rica I saw that everywhere. At some level one has to crank down the self righteous anger that rises, and recognize that the values one might have are not shared. For example, and this was a great teacher, some time back I rode Dominique the camel for the second time in Tanzania for a seven day safari with the same Maasai/Meru team I'd gone with previously. Dominique and I had connected before, he'd kissed me and been quite affectionate. I had no expectations. Eighteen months and many beatings later he was bitter and angry and a biter. The men were instructed not to beat him while I was on the trip. While this was a kind concession to me, the damage had long been done. What I had to do was, rather than enjoy my relationship with Dominique, which was no longer available, instead develop a very different kind of trip by creating water fights, food fights and an early morning "elephant" attack on my safari team. It was hilarious and we laughed our butts off the entire time. I had to simply turn off the part of me that had strong feelings about Dominique, pet him when I could and as he allowed, bow my head to the inevitability of his existence there, and focus on what I had at hand. It was an extraordinary lesson in culture, in allowing what is, to be, and not trying to press my values on people who cannot comprehend why I care so much about a beast of burden. The trip was a joy. Dominique is lost to me. It is life. The Maasai team is still begging me to come back on Facebook. That I consider to be one of my better wins. This is why I travel. There is no right. There is just what is. You either learn to allow what is or you tilt and hurt and pay for it with your blood pressure. I still have feelings and judgements about what I see, that's inevitable, but I will never, ever, ever voice them. I may inquire to understand. When you come from a country where we spend more money on dog shampoo than many people make in a month, or even a year, for food, we are in no position to judge.
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Old Oct 26th, 2016, 03:28 PM
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The Philae Temple trip also took us through a Nubian village, which meant that we were swarmed by folks eager to sell their goods. We were warned that this would happen, and asked politely to be respectful in saying no. Not only is this just good manners, but the increased aggressiveness had a lot to do with the steep dropoff of tourism caused by the revolution in 2011, and everyone is in trouble. So when we got off the bus, or got back off the boat, men with goods swarmed us. It is perfectly understandable.
What was a little hard to take, however, being someone who has working in the Diversity and Inclusion field, was listening to Walid pontificate about the Nubians, then when one of the young men comes on board, he handles the guy like a piece of meat, shows us his features, hair, etc. It made my skin crawl. Walid had no clue, of course, no reason to know why this might make anyone uncomfortable. His comments were condescending to the extreme, insulting about this race of people, and probably a commonly held view. Again, not my country, not my culture. I might note here that I would imagine foreign visitors to the United States during the slavery era might have had precisely the same reactions for the same reasons, and I daresay still might.
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Old Oct 26th, 2016, 04:22 PM
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The afternoon before our felucca cruise was free,so a friend from the tour group and I wandered the souq located just across the road from our hotel. I was searching for the elusive yogurt (warm but potable and safe) and fruit. I found both, but being hungry, slammed some many handfuls of grapes down as we perused the stalls for engaging goods.

As the afternoon sun waned, our group gathered at the pier and boarded the two boats which would provide for our slow, easy cruise. We had a facilities boat, providing the toilets, and our boats were laid out with plenty of bedding and pillows as well as lots of food. We had a Nubian staff.

We loaded up and pushed off gently.

I realized something was a little off when the food bowls, full of fresh cucumbers, figs, dates, carrots, and a great many fresh foods were passed around and there was nothing that interested me. I laid back to sleep. My stomach was angry.

The felucca drifted lazily, a beautiful white mosque rose across the river, sharply contrasted against the perfect blue sky. Our river driver guided us gently, and the conversation drifted.

Two hours later I was writhing in agony on the top of the facilities boat the dark, as most of our group was dancing on the shore around a bright fire. Someone had been smoking and my first take was that the smoke had given me a headache. However, that didn't explain THIS.

I had leapt ashore to clear my guts in the bushes the first chance I got. Smoke, I said. No worries, I said. I'll be fine, I said. Just let me sleep, I said.

From the top of the facilities boat, which was solid wood, I made my way to the front of the boat. The dancing was loud, as there were drums. A woman was making her way down the shore, and she stopped to play with a tethered goat. I called out to her. Again, and again and again. I finally got her attention.

Happily a few minutes later I got help. The only path was to walk (which was damned near impossible)across a wide open field full of grass, in the dark, with a belly that threatened- and did- demand relief at any moment. Walid, and this is one reason I really love this guy, was right there, ran to get me a supply of what there is NEVER a supply of in Egypt, stood nearby while I was in agony, protected me at every turn. I love this man. He can shout in my ear any time he wants.

I was loaded into a private vehicle with three men- I had no clue who they were, only that Walid was sending me with them. I laid my head on someone's big thigh. That's all I remember. The next thing I know we are in a nasty dirty open sky alley. This is the hospital. No really. This is the hospital. There are green wooden benches outside. We park. They help me to a bench, I curl into a fetal position. The stars are pretty.

The doctor blessedly sees me in moments. I will never ever forget this- the one thing I was able to do was muster enough energy to do the military woman thing and provide him with a list of symptoms, in medical terms, in crisp detail. I wish I'd had a video of his eyebrows shooting skyward, they nearly got stuck in the ceiling. He ordered a slew of tests. I explained that it clearly had to be food poisoning and by this time, I had figured it to be the grapes. He disagreed. He ordered a pile of tests. Okay fine.

I was put into a wheelchair and rolled outside to another door, where a lab tech met me, and took a blood sample. He asked if I had given any other samples, and I said no, no one had given me any containers. He said nothing, closed the door in my face and I was rolled back around outside the doctor's office.

I got back on the bench, curled into a fetal position and slept.
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Old Oct 26th, 2016, 04:26 PM
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About twenty minutes later my body declared its need to do its thing, at which point the opportunity for that lab sample came up. So I struggled to the closed doctor's office, pushed it open, and told the doc that now would be a good time. He looked surprised, then angry, when I explained that I'd not been provided with the appropriate containers. (It's not a good idea to laugh when in this condition but the temptation was there).

Got rolled around to Can't Be Bothered, got the goods, then was put in the toilet. Took care of business. Um. No toilet paper. No. Really. At the hospital. Doing lab samples. No. Toilet Paper. You can't make this stuff up. Despite now much I hurt I am sitting on the throne in hysterics. I yell out for one of my guys, who happily brings me the supply that Walid had supplied, which I now know to hoard. That's funny.
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