Police

Our train ride from Sohag provided a brief respite from the prying eyes of the police. Having a police escort is a complicated and somewhat irritating experience, but one that we had to endure during our stay in Upper Egypt. Our plan for the remainder of the trip was to take the train up to the city of Asyut and stay the night. The next day we would procure transport out into the Western Desert where we would spend an unspecified number of days traveling from oasis to oasis and seeing what the desert had to offer. After being hounded by shopkeepers, hotel owners, boat captains, peddlers, the police, and our students, we were ready to just disappear into the wilderness and find some relaxation in the process. That was the plan.
Upon our arrival in Asyut, however, it became apparent that our plan would need some adapting. Exiting the train station, our only desire was to check the bus schedule and then find a cheap hotel for the night. Therefore, when we were intercepted by six policemen who were to be our bodyguard, our hearts sank. It is important for you to understand that the police in Egypt are not like the men and women that are committed to serving and protecting in the United States. No, these men in whose company we were thrust, were only interested in serving themselves; nothing more, nothing less. Although an unfortunate turn of events, we determined to proceed as planned, and find lodging somewhere in the city.
Asyut is like Sohag in many ways. There is nothing of interest there, and very few tourists, if any, stop there. Because of this, we felt sure that finding a hotel would be as simple as walking through the door and asking for a room key. Eric retrieved the always-useful guide book, and together we determined to check at a reasonably priced hotel nearby that charged 30 LE a night. The police with us protested this decision for an unknown reason, but when we ignored their words and started walking away, they had no choice but to follow. As we entered the aforementioned hotel, one of the policemen pushed his way inside with us. Upon inquiring about a room, the concierge grew agitated and quickly told us that no rooms were available. Strike one.
Although slightly chagrined at this news, we decided that we’d try the next hotel on the list, because surely it would have rooms. It was still a reasonable 35 LE per night, and just down the street to boot. Our weary group hoofed it the several blocks north and entered, once again accompanied by the rather pushy police officer. Once again, the man at the front desk became nervous upon seeing the police, and insisted that there were absolutely no vacancies whatsoever. Strike two.
By now, we began to suspect that all was not right in Asyut. Still, we kept trying. The police chief told us of a hotel that he knew of where vacancies would be assured. But we weren’t ready to yield to the will of this somewhat dubious man. We pressed on. Our next stop was across town. We hailed a taxi, and with a military truck escorting us, we weaved through the crowded streets and arrived in short order at the next hotel. And guess what? It too had not a single vacancy. Strike three.
We looked at each other questioningly. Either there was an enormous sand-lovers convention taking place in Asyut, or for some reason the presence of the police made the hotel owners so nervous that they turned down business that they obviously needed. Curious. While each of us was mulling these thoughts over, the police chief once again suggested, rather strongly, that we try the hotel that “will have vacancies, I’m sure.” Our shadows were becoming less and less cordial, and so we grudgingly consented to at least see the hotel he promoted so vigorously. This was not quite the end of the story. Eric sidled up beside me as I walked and whispered something into my ear. I nodded in agreement and together we waited for the right moment.
As we passed an alleyway, Eric and I made a break for it. We sprinted away before the police knew what was happening, and as they began their pursuit we ducked into a small hotel around the corner. While I held the door shut, Eric quickly inquired about a room. The man smiled and said that indeed there were open rooms there. As he uttered these words however, one of the policemen pushed his way inside. An instant change came over the once-friendly hotel manager. Eric asked how much the room cost, but the hotel man only shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he stuttered, “No open rooms.” Now we were sure. The police were running a racket.
Feeling truly dejected, we rejoined Daniel and Kevin and entered the police-recommended hotel. By some astronomical coincidence, it was the only hotel in the entire city with vacancies, and it could be ours for a scant 140 LE! We were livid. We considered sleeping at the bus stop, just to make our police escort suffer with us, but in the end we decided that it we should just take the room. As our ragged group collapsed into the dingy room provided for us, we took stock of the situation. The police obviously had an arrangement with particular hotel owners. They made a commission off of any tourists they brought there. And just to make sure that they didn’t lose this money, they muscled the other hotel managers with threats. Unbelievable. I can say with all honesty that this was the most I have paid for a hotel here in Egypt, and it was by far the most unkempt and filthy room I have had.
Sleep came soon enough, however, and the next morning we talked about our options. We felt that it was in our best interest to ditch the police if at all possible, and so we plotted our escape. With money in hand we headed to the lobby, slapped the money on the desk, and ran out the front door, leaving the police in the lobby wondering what had just happened. The race was on. We ran between traffic and erratically veered onto side streets in a desperate effort to shake the police who were trying to catch up with us. Eventually we surrendered to the fact that one plainclothes officer had stuck with us, and determined to find the bus terminal and just get out of Asyut as quickly as possible.
The man pointedly asked questions of us during our walk, and we steadfastly ignored every word he said. Finally upon arriving at the bus station, we boarded a bus headed for the desert, and within 5 minutes we had seen the last of that vile city. The only lingering reminder of our experience was a police car that followed us for awhile. But eventually, it too dropped away, leaving us to look ahead to a police-less adventure. Finally. With this chapter of our trip closed, we relaxed and watched the dusty world pass by, stretching into the horizon. It was New Years Eve. What would we see next? How would we conclude 2008?