Road Trip!

A handful of Cairo's most impressive ancient sights lie a few kilometers outside the city's borders. We decided to hirs a van, blast some of our favorite tunes with the windows down, and pick up all of our friends for a wild Egyptian sightseeing time.




Well, not really - but we did have a van, an Egyptologist guide, and a driver. And it wasn't wild, but it was delightfully educational.


On our exursion, we laid waste to the ancient sites of Dashur, Memphis, Giza, and Saqqara - and by "laid waste," I mean we politely paid entry fees and asked lots of difficult questions.


All of the structures and statues we saw were dated 2750-2540 BC - among the impressive sights:

• The first pyramid (60m tall) at Saqqara composed of six stacked "steps"
• The "bent" pyramid (above, 105m tall) at Dashur, which still has some of its smooth casing. Its angle was altered from 54 degrees to 49 degrees mid-construction due to initial [mis]calculations.
• The "great" pyramid (146m tall)
• The sphinx, whose nose is missing due to either Napoleanic target practice or some malicous Turk
• The best falafils we've had, for less than $0.25. Worth the airfare alone.
• The world's oldest stone-brick building at Saqqara

We concluded our sightseeing with the evening "Sound and Light" show at Giza, a laser and projection show that explains the history and mystery of the pyramids and the sphinx. While it did bear some educational value, the projected face and pompous British accent of the sphinx (our narrator) cheapened the site's mystical ambiance. You can imagine.

We waste no daylight - we spent the night in a sleeper train to Aswan where our Nile felucca (sailboat) departs!

Not Enough Hours in an Egyptian Day...

...So why waste daylight?

We left our hotel at 4:30 AM and headed for the camel stables. By 5:00 AM we were in Giza's desert, each on our own camel, with a little sixteen-year-old kid as our guide. Sixteen-year-olds are great guides because they let you control your own camel when it's your first camelback experience and you're clearly not qualified. So that's highly recommended. Oh, and gentlemen: wear a protective cup.

We watched the desert sunrise illuminate the Giza pyramids while our camels made gurgling and smacking sounds, which was in fact partial regurgitation followed by chewing said vomit. One of us found this repulsive - the other one of us captured it on digital media.

We made it back to our hotel just in time to begin our full-day itinerary.

Cairo

This city moves quickly - and the best way to slow it down is with tea and sheesha (hookah).


Cairo is so happy to see us - to know our name, to know where we live, and to know how we like it here. No, it's not our eager smiles and adorable personalities - it's because we're obviously tourists.



Sure, Cairo wants our money, and it wouldn't mind having yours, too; however, if you walk the crowded sidewalks, less than half of the people asking your name actually want to sell you something - the rest just want to ask how you're enjoying their city, point you in the right direction, practice their English with a brief joke, and continue on their way.

Our hotel, the Hormoheb, is equally - if not overly - friendly. It's kinda like we're the protagonists of The Rocky Horror Picture Show walking into Dr. Frankfurter's castle. Kinda.

The hotel restaurant waiters strongly urge us to return on their shift and the front desk receptionists want descriptive accounts of how we're enjoying every amenity. We also received a brief but very enthusiastic tour of the hotel spa - a 1/3-full swimming pool, a fitness classroom (complete with toilet), and a Turkish bath (read: oily bathtub). The spa attendants insisted we return the next day to attend in a personalized, complementary, fitness class.

We spent the morning at the Egyptian Museum which, like the Louve, houses more artifacts (including King Tut's) than you'd care to see in a day. Our self-guided tour was cursory, but we saw a baker's dozen of mummified royalty, their skin oddly preserved and smeared with red ochre, their eyes selectively replaced with monochrome semi-precious stones and mother-of-pearl, like a doll.

The strangest phenomenon is that the majority of the artifacts, reliefs, jewelry, and paintings were never intended to be seen again by living human eyes - rather, it's all instrumental in enriching the recently deceased's eternal life. If their religion holds any water then we, the observers of the entombed artifacts, may spend post-mortem eternity with our hearts gnashed in the mouth of Ammut "The Devourer," a large and beastly goddess. And Ammut has large teeth.

Although the infrastructure can't support the burgeoning population, there's litter on every corner, and parts of Cairo have the Earth's highest population density, the city has its pride, and above all, its ebullient sense of humor.

...Of Bars and Bargains

The next day was the day of several great battles, all fought nobly by Friedmans on one side and arabic shopowners on the other; all ended with smiles and handshakes, and each team probably covertly high-fived each other afterwards. What matters is that everybody thinks they won - on one hand, we paid a great deal less than expected on certified and authentic products, and concurrently, the shopowners made their profit, else they wouldn't have closed the deal.

Ahh, the lovely smell of commerce in the morning!

So we nabbed our hookah, we snatched our carpets, and we just may have found each other some birthday and first anniversary presents in the Gold Souq. We also consigned a shipping company to fly much of our luggage (mostly carpets and Kilimanjaro equipment) to the MSP airport, so now our two bags (and our backs) are breathing easily. For a short while, at least, we'll be traveling light and luxuriously.

So, time for a relaxing drink in Dubai, right? Wrong.

We've learned that Dubai is much more of a "smoke 'em if you got 'em" city than a "round of beers for my friends" city. People sit at "bars" and drink teas and fruit juices, while sucking down Marlboro Reds. The only place to get a bucket-o-suds is at a hotel bar or at the airport's duty free shops.

We hear Cairo has some distinctive local beers and wine, so until then, it's relaxing by the pool with a plastic bottle of the cleanest, quaffable, tap water we've seen in over a month.

Sold. Wrap it up - we'll take it.

A Dubai-ous Day of Commerce

Dubai doesn't quite fit the profile of the cities we've visited thus far - it has a very modern infrastructure (read: drinkable tap water), its oldest standing structure was erected after 1800, it's very safe, and the main attractions are modern architecture and commerce rather than ancient culture and prehistory.

After disembarking, we traversed the "old town," an 1800's-1900's quadrant of Dubai that still clings to its Arabic culture. Old town is known woldwide for its inexpensive gold, silk Persian rugs, and hookah pipes. We quickly resolved to shop for all three.

We decided to use Thursday as our "see every product available in Dubai" day, Friday as our "lets think about what we want to purchase at the beach" day (most shops are closed for holy Firdays), and Saturday as our "hemmorhage money (UAE Dirhams) to the Arabs" day.

We spent the majority of Thursday refining our taste and expertise in Persian carpets. Here's an abridged lesson for you - actually, imagine we're explaining it to you in the middle of a crowded arabic parketplace with bright textiles and chickens on spit-roasts...

----

Us: So, you have to consider the carpet material - silk or silk substitute such as acryllic, wool, or some blend thereof. Silk is more expensive, but the color is sharper and it lends an interesting shine, making the colors shift subtly from different angles.

You: Ooh, let's go with silk.

(A man interrupts: "My friend, you want copy watch? Copy Rolex? Copy Omega?")

Us: Excuse us - thanks. Next, you have to consider whether you want your silk carpet hand-made or machine-made. Hand-made can be ten times more expensive, but wow - some of the richness and color gradients really can't be produced by a machine. The hand-made pieces really exemplifiy the Iranian attention to detail.

You: Well, I'd rather not expel somebody from my home for dirtying my floor covering, and I like to maintain a healthy blood pressure - so let's look at the machine-made pieces.

(Another man approaches and leans in: "Copy handbags? My friend, you want copy handbags?")

Us: Ahem. Very well, so now you just have to consider thread length and silk origin, which determines the texture. Then just consider size and design - and happy shopping!

----

Oh yeah, we forgot to mention - there's lots of people selling knock-off products.

Shopping for gold in the Gold Souq (gold market) was equally exhausting. There's a great deal of modestly-priced, generic-looking gold jewelry (and watches) available in the dozens (maybe hundreds) of accredited, camera-survaillanced shops; however, the more traditional Persian pieces were much more distinctive and interesting. Many were so ornate that they look like fake stage jewelry, so it's a cautious endeavor.

We wrapped up the day with an hour-long search for a restaurant - gold and thread everywhere, but not a crumb to eat! - and we settled for some delicious burgers and a relaxing hour at a hookah bar.

Today, at the Arabian Sea beach in Dubai, we're discussing what we saw and learned and asking ourselves the incessant consumerism question:

Do-buy or not do-buy?

Oh, man - that's too funny. Let's just leave it at that.

The Doc's First Patient

Pssst - Sara wouldn't want me to tell you this because she thinks it's "dorky," but I think it's pretty cool, and I think you'll agree.

Allow me to set the scene...

March 28, 2007. Emirates Airlines flight EK0722, departing from Nairobi to Dubai. The craft has boarded and is about to commence liftoff. It's 23:46, so everybody's drifting off to sleep - including the Doc, in her sky-blue Target eyemask. I'm uncomfortable, because I can never figure out how to relax my neck while in an upright seated position.

...But as destiny would have it, danger brewed five rows ahead. A fellow passenger was ailing and was unfit to take to the skies this fateful night.

A flight attendant bellowed: "Is there a doctor or medical professional on board with their license handy?"

Nobody raised a solitary hand. A long pause. The Doc removed her sleepwear and misplaced it somewhere in that long moment.

She bellowed again: "Is there any doctor aboard with any identification at all?"

Still, no hands raised.

The Doc then calmly raised her hand, and the flight attendant approached. "Are you a registered nurse?" The attendant cocked her head.

I shot her a "you sexist!" glare, but the Doc politely corrected her, offered her passport as identification, and more fully qualified her medical expertise. The Doc rose to see the ailing passenger, and the craft hushed. Several tumbleweeds blew across the aisle (well, not really - but it'd have been fitting).

I sat patiently as she assessed the situation several rows ahead. Three visibly panicked flight attendants flanked her as she spoke to the ill passenger, nodding politely and docilely.

I covertly filmed the majority of this exchange with our digital camera, as I awaited the prognosis with the rest of the captive audience.

Due to HIPAA policy, I'm unable to disclose specific patient information, but the Doc suggested that the passenger leave the flight. Now, I applaud the Doc for her swift and righteous justice, but removing the passenger and respective luggage added another hour to our flight. The Doc returned to sleep quickly, but not before accepting a free Emirates Airlines pair of socks and a replacement sleeping mask.

Perhaps I'll write a limerick to honor the event - or maybe an epic poem - or maybe a rag-tag guitar tale in the style of Jim Croce or Arlo Guthrie. In any case, I can't sleep since I'm so excited!

Hooray for our not-yet-employed Doc!

Turfin' Safari

We left Nairobi for a three-night camping safari through Kenya - it's a great lineup of trekking and watching large predators from a somewhat-armored, open-roofed, safari cruiser.

We're traveling with four other tourists - an Argentinian couple, a Brazilian airline pilot, and a friendly Australian girl - an adventurous and enthusiastic bunch.

The guide and staff are another animal altogether - our "guide" for the four-day excursion is "Winston." You know that feeling you get with some people - the "this guy is trying to screw me over big-time" feeling? Well, you'd get that feeling talking to Winston.

Some contextual information:
Most Eastern African excursions operate based on two payments - the advance, corporate payment, and the sizable cash-only local payment. The later is used for entry fees, foodstuffs, and other such on-the-spot expenses included in the itinerary.

Well, Winston is trying to skirt all said on-the-spot payments or discourage us from participating in several included activities. We [our band of tourists] are persistent in demanding our share. Cough it up, Winston! And so, our trip:


Hell's Gate National Park

Our first day is Hell's Gate - named for its steaming hot springs and tortuous gorges.

The terrain above the gorge is a boxed red-rock canyon with herds of zebras, warthogs, and gazelles running along the dirt roads. We spent the majority of the ride with our torsos through the sunroofs, just as everybody dreams of doing in their prom limousines.

The Hell's Gate gorge took an hour to traverse - canyoning down rocky streams, shuffling through obsidian gravel, and using the sandstone ravine walls as fingerholds for climbing. We wore flip-flops (Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!) but we made it down to the boiling springs without injury or snakebite (black mambas are indigenous to the area).

Winston apologized for some of the confusion over our dinner campfire. We're still skeptical.


Masai Mara - Northern Serengeti

We drove several hours of plains to the Masai Mara - the ride there was scattered with gazelles, zebras, and gnus, so by the time we arrived we were already a bit jaded. We were ready to see some big game and some carnivores.

The reserve is so expansive - thousands of acres, and that doesn't even include the Tanzanian side. Here's a recap of some of the more interesting sightings:

• A family of giraffes running across the plains



• A herd of twenty elephants walking single-file through a valley



• A male and female lion sleeping (in the "spooning" position)



• Several hippos (actually the deadliest animal in Africa, by the numbers) bathing and singing in a pond



• A leopard high in a tree with the remains of a most unfortunate gazelle



• A massive eagle dive-bombing and making quick prey of a smaller bird

All-in-all, a very productive day of observation. We'd rather see it all on our feet (rather than on wheels), but we'd quickly become prey ourselves and it's hard to cover enough ground - after the next full day of safari, we'd be ready to get back on our legs.


Masai Village

We left camp early and headed to a Masai tribe village for a quick glance at their ceremonial dancing, traditional architecture, and cultural traditions.

We witnessed two dances - male and female - both of which entailed call-and-answer singing, and both of which are performed at circumcisions (yes, both male and female circumcision). The most impressive feat was the standing vertical jumps the males used in their dance.

The village huts are constructed from sticks, straw, and cow manure - they're expected to stand for about five years until the next tribal migration. We'll probably build a similar establishment in the middle of Lincoln Park in Chicago to inhabit during the residency/Ph. D. years.

Trevor, can we rel on your civil engineering signature to certify its structural soundness? (You'll have to check the books for the cow manure load-bearing coefficients.)


Lake Nakuru National Park

We spent the afternoon game-watching at Lake Nakuru, a famous living and breeding grounds for the white rhinoceros. We saw our fill of rhinos, but even more impressive were the pink flamingos on the lake itself. On the horizon, between the dark lake and the green hills is a thick band of solid pink - more pink than even Lisa Baldwin can comprehend.

We also saw our fill of baboons - so many that they're considered menaces at the lakefront. So, as far as baboons go, we're done for now. If you have some baboons waiting for us in the states, sell 'em back. We're through with the 'boons for now, but we deeply appreciate the gesture.


Safari Afterthoughts

We're happy that we went on safari and we're delighted with the multitude and density of wildlife we saw. However, we now know that safaris are passive activities - sunroof gazing, picture-taking, and (if you're lucky enough to get an enthusiastic, informed guide) listening to a wildlife lesson or two. There's another brand of safari out there - the trekking safari - where it's just you and a rifle-bearing guide stomping through the wild. It's more expensive, but it may have suited us better.

As the saying goes, "a satisfied customer tells one person, a dissatisfied customer tells four" - so readers (at least four of you) take note:

Do not use Nomad Tours (the company based in South Africa) for East African excursions. The itineraries are unrealistic, the guides are dishonest and unprofessional, and they do a poor job of allocating our payment fees. Other firms, such as Gap Adventures, provide better service for a similar fee. Hope this appears in search results so other people can be happier on their excursions.

So, having climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro and seen the predators of the Northern Serengeti, we believe (as per Steve's question) that we now understand Toto's 80's-riffic single entitled "Africa". We'd love to share our understanding, but you really have to come here and see it for yourself.

Until then, (to make an acute cinema allusion) you can listen to Toto, but you can't hear Toto. Let's leave it at that, Steve.

Also, happy belated birthdays to Kristin and Jenny!

We leave for Dubai tonight - we'll catch up with you all then, and we hope to have more frequent computer access.