When in Egypt . . .

Despair and hope

2009-03-09T13:27:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I feel like I just can’t win. Some days it seems are lost before they begin. That’s how the past week has been for me; one blow after another. And the hits just keep on coming. Let me take you through and share some highlights from the week in question.
Last week I learned that several of my classmates from Milo were involved in some less than reputable, self-destructive activities at college this year. It came as quite a shock to me, to be honest. I went to school with these guys for years and I thought I knew them. Anyway, that put a damper on the beginning of the week. On Wednesday night I was preparing for bed when I was hit with a stomach virus that wiped me out for the next three days. I’m not sure what it was. Maybe food poisoning? Who knows? In any case, I had plenty of time lying on the couch in discomfort, to think about how much I miss home (by the way, I really miss home). This homesickness was compounded by the internet which chose this particular week to take a hiatus.
And to top it all off, my patience has been wearing thin. I find myself growing upset with students and staff alike for things that I just let go in the past. Off-hand comments, cultural irritants, and seemingly a thousand other things trigger me into a bad mood. To sum it up, the world seems to be crashing down around me.
All I want is a little peace. I want to be able to hug my parents. I want to be able to sleep in my own bed. I want to be able to hang out with my friends. I want to worry about when my homework assignment is due, not how to deal with an unruly classroom full of noisy and disrespectful kids.
But alas, all is not lost.
I have a friend who has never failed me in the past, and whose help I can count on today, tomorrow, and forever. I know that He’s here beside me, feeling my pain, hurting when I hurt, crying when I cry. And when I get discouraged, He’s always right there. Sometimes I forget that He’s here with me. I get so caught up in what’s wrong and how miserable I am, that I forget to look for the positive. There are always blessings. Always. It’s only when I become selfish and look inwardly that I lose sight of them.
I’ve heard it said that if we knew the end from the beginning—why we were allowed to go through the trials and pain that we do—that we wouldn’t have it any other way. I think I agree with that. I’m no sadist. I don’t enjoy being unhappy. But when I’m down, that’s when I look to Christ. So for that reason, perhaps the past week was just what I needed.
“My grace is enough; it’s all you need. My strength comes into its own in your weakness. Now I take limitations in stride, and with good cheer, these limitations that cut me down to size—abuse, accidents, opposition, bad breaks. I just let Christ take over! And so the weaker I get, the stronger I become.”
2 Cor. 12:9-10
I have three months left in Egypt. What will the future hold? I have no idea. Will it be easy all the time? Of course not. But If this week has taught me anything, it’s that I am not alone. So there’s a reason to look forward to tomorrow.

Police

2009-02-22T07:40:00.000-08:00

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?

Zowek

2009-02-20T11:58:00.000-08:00

Sohag is a city little-traveled by tourists, and for good reason. There are no culturally or historically sites nearby and the city is busy, noisy, ugly, and crowded. So why, you ask, were Eric, Kevin and I coming to this seeming vacuum of fun? Well, if you’ll just stop interrupting me for a couple seconds I’ll tell you everything.

Upon our arrival at the train station we were greeted by Magdy Dief, a junior whom we had been invited to stay with in the nearby village of Zowek. He escorted us out of the station and into the street, where two police officers brandishing AK-47s were waiting. After brief introductions with the men, we were informed that they would be our escorts for the remainder of our stay in Sohag. Furthermore, before we could go anywhere they had to be informed, or else Magdy and his family were liable to be punished.

So why all the security? It turns out that a number of Islamic extremists have hailed from the area, and the concern was that word might get out of foreigners visiting, and Americans at that. This could prove to be a very tempting target for kidnapping, indeed. Alas, the armed escort was meant as a deterrent, and that was that. It became clear to us that the police were taking no chances. We joined Magdy in his cousin’s taxi and in short order we were careening out of the city and into the night. The police car cleared a path using its lights and siren and we followed it through the gap. At a checkpoint several kilometers outside the city, the police cruiser was exchanged for an army truck full of soldiers, and we continued on. Our journey finally ended when we rolled into the confines of Zowek. After receiving final instructions from the officers, we climbed the concrete stairs to Magdy’s apartment and crashed for the night.

Sunlight greeted us as we awoke the next day. As we opened the shutters and looked out, Zowek revealed itself in all its… glory. According to Magdy, about 7,000 people call it home. Keeping with the Egyptian tradition, the houses are all made of brick and concrete, several stories tall, with narrow dirt alleys winding between them. From our third floor vantage point, the streets looked like a giant maze, replete with dead-ends and confusion.

Magdy disappeared, and presently returned with a platter full of breakfast items (i.e. bread, cheese, taimaya, fuul beans, and tea). Being chronically famished, we devoured the contents of the platter, and were just settling into a comfortable period of reading when Magdy notified us that we were expected at another student’s house for lunch in a mere one hour. Now I should not something here: A large contingency of NUA students hail from Zowek; about 40 in all. They each knew that we were in their village, and each of them was determined that we should visit their home and eat their food. The first on this list was Benjamin Zachariah.

And so began a harrowing two three days. Visiting locals is an experience that I will not forget. The hospitality of the families is legendary. The women of the house work all day, preparing a veritable feast for their guests. A typical meal consisted of rice, salad (chopped cucumber and tomato), bread, some form of potatoes, chicken or duck, and Coca Cola to drink. These were presented to us in copious quantities at every house we visited. We ate between 4 and six complete meals during our stay in Zowek, and I can safely tell you, that eating gets old after not too long.

I realize that it may seem that I am skipping some important details, but I can assure you that the only things we did during our stay was eating and sleep. That’s it. I have never been so uncomfortably full in my life, as I was in Zowek. Fortunately, we planned our escape and after 3 days we were once again at the train station, this time with Daniel accompanying us. As we waddled onto the platform we waved goodbye to Magdy and breathed a sigh of relief. Although the people were hospitable enough, we needed a break from the good manners and F-O-O-D. And so ends another chapter of our story.

Temple Fatigue

2009-02-11T08:59:00.000-08:00

Our last day in Luxor dawned bright and clear. It was time to visit the West Bank and all it had to offer. And believe me, it offered a lot. The Valley of the Kings and the Valley of the Queens lay in the western hills, replete with tombs and temples. It was going to be a busy day.

After devouring our breakfast at the hotel, we were on our way to the ferry dock. A short ride later we emerged into the chaos of the West Bank. As was so often our experience, we were instantly assailed by vendors and tour guides. Amidst the rabble we had a quick team meeting and decided to hire a taxi. It wasn’t difficult to leverage competing drivers’ prices, and in short order we had a taxi hired for the day for a scant 150 LE.

Our first stop was the much ballyhooed Valley of the Kings. A veritable treasure trove of famous tombs for pharaohs including Ramses II and Tutenkhamen, the Valley of the Kings is set in a steep and narrow canyon between mountain rifts. Before leaving our taxi, we agreed to meet our driver at Hatshpsut’s Temple on the side of the next ridge, accessible by a pathway in the King’s Valley. And so with these instructions still fresh in our minds, we prepared to explore.

We were sad to learn that a ticket for the King’s Valley only applied to any three of the tombs (excluding the fantastic tombs of Ramses VI and King Tut for which separate tickets are needed). However, we couldn’t change this fact, and so with the help of our trusty guide book we selected Thutmosis III’s tomb as our first stop. Entering a tomb is like walking into a stuffy oven. I couldn’t believe how hot it was inside. A sign was posted declaring ‘no photos’. I noted this and made sure to be careful when taking my pictures. It’s really difficult to compose shots with an SLR when you can’t use the viewfinder, especially when tomb guards are watching. Nevertheless, I made a valiant effort, and was just getting the hang of it when I heard a ruckus rising behind me.

I turned to find Eric and one of the guards in a heated discussion. The guard was accusing Eric of taking photos and demanding that he surrender his camera. Simultaneously, another guard accosted Kevin with the same accusation. Both Eric and Kevin refused to give the guards their cameras, and this only served to anger the guards more. Basically, if they had given the guards their cameras, they would have had to pay a ransom to get them back. It was that simple. During all this, I made sure that my photos were well shuffled, so that when a third guard asked if I had taken photos, I could show him a string of innocuous photos and still retain my tomb pictures. So now the discussion had turned into a shouting match. At one point the guard tried to grab Eric’s camera and was pushed away. Enough was enough. Eric stepped up and in his most intimidating voice, asked the man if he was willing to fight for the camera. Upon the realization that these tourists weren’t going to be pushed around, the guards retreated to their corner, still breathing threats.

We made our way to the surface while we still had the chance, and headed to our next tomb of choice—That of Seti II. We were sorely disappointed to find that this was a rather simple and bland tomb, carved in a straight line descending in several levels. Little of the original color remained, and the inscriptions were damaged in many places. After spending a few minutes in the lackluster confines of Seti II’s final resting place, we headed topside to choose our last stop. We wanted our last tomb to be spectacular, so we again consulted the guide book. Based on its description we opted to head to Saurent’s crypt.

Unfortunately, once again we were greeted with a less than spectacular tomb. So much for the glory of the Kings’ Valley. Now we had to make a decision: buy a second ticket and try our luck once more, or call it a day and start our hike towards the Temple of Hatshepsut. While contemplating this, a middle-aged American man and his wife strode up to us. They offered us their tickets which still had one tomb visit left on them. We heartily thanked them for their gift and once more considered which tomb to risk visiting next. We decided to break with tradition and not consult the book. Heading down a side canyon, we came to the entrance of Thutmosis IV’s tomb. There was still one problem: Eric and I had a ticket, but Kevin had none. We attempted to baksheesh (bribe) the guard to allow Kevin to enter, but at that moment the man’s supervisor was standing only a few meters away, looking on intently. We struck out. Kevin volunteered to stay behind, and so Eric and I plunged into our fourth tomb of the day, hoping for something spectacular.

The best part about the tomb of Thutmosis IV was that there were absolutely no guards or tourists inside. Due to its location off the beaten track, we were able to explore its chambers uninhibited. The tomb was larger than the previous two we had entered, and its l-shaped layout made it a touch more interesting. We stayed below for long enough to take some photos and see the sites (not much to see, really) and then reunited with Kevin on the surface.

Time was growing short as we headed back down the trail, and so in one last ditch effort to see something worth remembering, we purchased tickets to see the tomb of Ramses IV. It was worth it. The tomb was made up of a large hallway that descended at intervals. There were two chambers where the hall opened up into a high-vaulted room. The best part about this tomb was the remarkably preserved hieroglyphics that decorated both walls and ceiling. Rich blues and yellows showed the story of Ramses IV’s life and conquest. Finally we had found something worth looking at, and I wasn’t about to waste this opportunity. While Eric distracted the guard by asking questions, I was able to enter the burial chamber and take photographs. Once the deed was done, we thanked the guard for his help and exited the premises posthaste.

Hiking up the steep grade to reach the Temple of Hatshepsut was rewarding in its own way. When we crested the ridge, a fabulous panorama opened up before us, revealing the Nile, Luxor, and into the distance far beyond. Just below us in the shelter of the cliff we had conquered, was Hatshepsut’s Temple with its long stairways and tiny ant-like people scrambling about. They were quite humorous to watch from above, but our amusement had to be cut short. We were already late to meet our taxi driver, and there was still much to see. Wasting no time, we scrambled down a shale-strewn path to the ticket booth adjacent to the temple.

Our taxi driver advised us that given the lateness of the hour, we should go and purchase tickets for all the sites we planned to visit right away. The reason for this being that the ticket offices closed an hour before the sites themselves. We heeded his words and he escorted us post-haste to the ticket window. And so, in the last hour of daylight, we completed a whirlwind tour of three temples: Habu, Seti, and finally with the sun setting, we completed our day at Hatshepsut’s temple. I am very happy to say that this concluded the temple and ruin section of our trip. All three of us were burned out on history, and enough was enough.

We returned from the West Bank and arrived at the train station with plenty of time to spare. As promised, the French girls were waiting for us on the platform. When the train finally arrived, I had the pleasure of keeping company with Adeline Samain for the duration of our trip. Out of the group, she spoke the least English, but this only served to keep our conversation creative, as each of us used unique gestures and explanations to fill in the language gaps. I learned that Adeline was 21 and resided in the South of France. She had one year left in college, with a major in language and international business.

All too soon, the train pulled into our stop—Sohag. We bid our French counterparts adieu, stepped out of the car and headed to our next adventure.

What do Karnak and France Have in Common?

2009-02-06T03:24:00.000-08:00

Our merry band awoke on the 26th with a decision to make. Luxor is a city that lies on both banks of the Nile. Sites are traditionally listed as either being on the East or the West bank. We had to decide which bank we wanted to see on what day. Since we were already off to a late start, we opted to stick on the East bank (that's the side our hotel was on) and visit the sprawling Karnak temple. So, after a hearty breakfast eaten on the roof of the hotel, we were making our way north along the Nile. the Karnak temple complex is within the city limits of Luxor, and before long, we were standing in front of the first pylon, preparing ourselves for the wonders no doubt hidden inside.
Of all the temples and ruins that I have visited in Egypt, Karnak is without a doubt both the largest and the most diverse. It was added to by a long series of pharoahs over time, each one having unique ideas. The result is a simply massive assortment of great halls, temples, pylons, and a sacred lake thrown in for good measure. It quickly became apparent to us that we would be spending the rest of the day there, and so, secure in this knowledge, we took our time exploring.
The great thing about many of the Egyptian ruins, and Karnak in particular, is that the guards don't pay attention. We found ourselves in some forgotten corner of the complex, completely isolated from the nearest tourist or tourist policeman. Karnak is a work in progress. scattered on every available patch of ground are giant stones of every shape and size. Throughout antiquity, weather and invaders have taken their toll on the temples and tombs, and so today archaeologists are working to reassemble many of these ancient sites. So, through chance, we found ourselves in a quite impressive temple alone. And conveniently enough, there was construction scaffolding forming a ladder to the roof of this particular building. Not wanting to waste such an opportunity, Kevin and Eric scrambled to the top while I went outside to capture the moment in pictures. Before long a guard appeared, yelling and gesturing wildly to the guys on top of the temple. After feigning ignorance for a few minutes, they finally consented to return to the ground, but only after striking several poses for me.
The day was highlighted by experiences such as this. The only other encounter of the day worth mentioning happened at another such deserted temple. As we were traipsing along, we ran across three rather attractive-looking young women. In the course of introductions we learned that their names were Boudour, Aasma, and Adeline, that they hailed from France, and that they were studying Arabic in Syria. After a brief chat, we went our separate ways and thought nothing more of it at the time.

It was nearly 4:30 by the time we left Karnak, and so the next order of business was to find supper. The other thought lurking in our collective thoughts was our impending departure from Luxor, or more importantly, how we could get to our next stop in Sohag. As we ate supper we debated the best means of transportation. The idea of a minibus was suggested, as well as taking the train or even hiring a taxi. In the end, we agreed to try to get tickets on the train, as it would be the easiest and most reliable method of transport. Upon finishing our supper, we wandered through some souqs (open-air markets), and were just about to head for the train station to inquire about tickets, when we ran into the French girls from earlier that day. We quickly discovered that they too were in search of train tickets. We agreed to go to the station together and try our luck.

I had the opportunity to talk with Boudour as we walked. Although she had an unmistakably thick French accent, her English was quite good. I learned lots about her in a short time. She was born in Morocco to a French father and a Moroccan mother and it was there that she lived until the age of 15. She then moved to France where she had gone to school up until this year when she took the opportunity to study Arabic abroad in Syria. I took this opportunity to ask a burning question I had. Being fluent in three languages, I asked her which one she dreams in. Apparently French is the answer. Okay, enough about that.

Once the six of us were in the train station, our plight became apparent. According to the ticket agent, all the trains were full for the foreseeable future. Now we all knew full well that this was a lie. The trains are never full. What the ticket agent meant to say is that he didn’t want to give us tickets because we’re foreign, and the word customer service has never been introduced into the Egyptian language. However, despite this setback, we were not going to give up that easily. In fact, we were in luck. Knowing Arabic fairly well, our three French friends began to solicit passing Egyptians, imploring them to help us procure tickets. It wasn’t long before a kind young man consented to purchasing tickets for us. And so while we tried to look casual and inconspicuous (very difficult to do for six white people in an Egyptian train station), he was able to get us tickets for the next night at 7:30 PM. Success!

The night was still young as we left the train station. Wanting to thank our Egyptian friend, we decided to go to a local coffee shop and celebrate our good fortune. So for the remainder of the evening we talked, exchanged stories, and enjoyed each other’s company. Finally, when the hour grew late, we departed from our French friends, but only after agreeing to meet each other on the train platform the next night. And with that, Eric, Kevin and I headed back to the Happy Land Hotel for our last night’s sleep in Luxor.

Friends, Food, and Fun?

2009-01-25T08:26:00.000-08:00

Christmas morning dawned clear and bright as we awoke on the felucca. After a quick breakfast of fried pita, and eggs, we were again sailing. However, our trip was not to last much longer. By 9 o'clock we were moored to the shore and disembarking in order to join a minibus that had been arranged for us. We said our goodbyes to Captain Ayob and Ibrahim, and clambered aboard the Toyota Hiace van. We cruised across the countryside, following the Nile as it snaked northwards. In about and hour we were at the Kom Ombo Temple, our first stop of the day. The temple was interesting enough, but there was nothing that distinguished it from the rest of the temples, at least in my mind.
By 10 AM we were once again bouncing across the countryside, this time towards Edfu--The Temple of Horace. Now the Temple of Horace had one claim to fame--It was huge. The pylons at the entrance towered 30 meters above visitors as they entered the complex. The sheer size of the columns and antechambers was magnificent in scale. Edfu was one of the best preserved temples of our trip and it stands out as one of my personal favorites. But, as was often the case, we ran out of time and had to get back on the road after an hour and a half.
It was early afternoon when we rolled into Luxor's bustling city center. If Luxor isn't a tourist town, then I don't know what is. packs of visitors roamed the wide sidewalks, followed every step of the way by all manner of street vendors, touting their wares. As disgusting as this spectacle was, I was comforted by the fact that Luxor appeared to be the cleanest city I have seen thus far in Egypt. Modern traffic lights, tree-lined boulevards, and even crosswalks greeted us--at least on main street.
Before we arrived in Luxor, the driver of the van asked each of us what hotel we were staying at, presumably so that he could drop us off there. Our whole Felucca group (sans Humberto) had stuck together so far, and after some discussion, we agreed that we would try to stay in the same hotel. Now keep in mind that we didn't know what to expect from any of the hotels. Our travel guides gave us an idea, but frankly their descriptions were sometimes ambiguous. Our best bet was to check out several different hotels and then make a decision based on that. So we asked the driver to drop us off at the Happyland Hotel. He nodded in affirmation.
As the van came to a stop the driver announced that we had reached our destination. We all hopped out and looked around. Curiously enough, the Happyland Hotel was nowhere to be seen. Instead, we were standing in front of a sign that read: Nubian Oasis Hotel. Before we could react, a man rushed out of the hotel and launched into a pitch about his hotel. We were no fools. Clearly the driver was getting a commission for guests he brought to the Nubian Oasis, and we were the next victims! We were all upset by this blatant trickery, and we stormed off down the street in search our original destination. The hotel owner ran after us, desperately trying to draw us back to his hotel. When we confronted him about his scheme, he promised to show us where the Happyland Hotel was. He pointed in a particular direction and we just rolled our eyes. Even we knew that the hotel was in the opposite direction.
But this man was persistent! He followed us for 5 blocks, haranguing us the whole time. By the time he finally gave up he had offered us a free first night and a free joint apiece! But despite this offer of cheap lodging and free drugs, we refused one final time. If the man was that desperate to get people to his hotel, then there must be something wrong with his hotel. Having fought off his attacks, we finally made it to the Happyland Hotel. And despite its curious name, it turned out to be the nicest hotel we stayed at during our break.
The Kiwis and the Brits headed off to see some sites while Kevin, Eric and I decided to take it easy and lounge for a little while. Before we went our separate ways, however, we agreed to meet for Christmas Dinner later in that night. The American posse (we three) wandered the town until we found the aptly named Luxor Temple. It sits on a sight surrounded on all sides by busy streets. Since we could see the whole complex from the outside, we chose not to spend the money to get inside. After fooling around for a bit we meandered back to Happyland where we ran in Kathy and Kerry. Together we consulted the field book and chose a highly recommended restaurant named Sofra that wasn't too far away.
I can honestly say that Sofra is the most enjoyable dining experience that I have had in my 5 months here. We were stunned to find that the restaurant had atmosphere. I had almost forgotten what atmosphere was. An old 1930s era house had been converted into a quaint eatery, with private dining rooms on the ground floor and the main eating area on an open-air covered roof-terrace. Turkish style decorations and furniture, coupled with fitting music, gave Sofra a charming aura that made dinner all the better. Even the menu and the staff seemed legitimate. It was quite a departure from the standard "restaurant" where the menu is rife with mispellings and atmosphere is considered traffic noise and dirty, tiled walls.
However, the best part about this Christmas Dinner was the dinner itself. We all treated ourselves to fresh fruit juice followed by traditional pita bread and dipping sauces. We each chose a separate main course--I decided to really have a new experience and tried the lamb--after which I had fresh fruit salad for desert. And, after an enjoyable evening of food and conversation, we retired to our room, exhausted but happy.

Onwards and Upwards!

2009-01-21T11:18:00.000-08:00

Well, I know you're all dying to hear about the rest of my vacation, so I won't leave you in suspense for any longer.
We opted to sleep in following our hectic day of traveling to Abu. We had a felucca tour booked for 3:15 in the afternoon, and we were awake by 11:30 in the morning. After a brief meeting we decided to visit Elephantine Island for the remainder of our time in Aswan, then catch a taxi to meet up with the felucca. We implemented our plan immediately, and in short order we were stepping off the ferry onto one Elephantine Island. This particularly island is the largest of a group wedged into the Nile in the Aswan area. It has been inhabited for hundreds of years, both by Nubians and Egyptians. We spent the better part of 4 hours exploring the ruins, museums, and villages before heading toward our rendevous with the felucca. There wasn't anything significant about our visit to Elephantine Island, otherwise I would have mentioned it. Ergo, no writing = a fairly boring island. So moving right along...
Upon boarding the felucca we were greeted by 5 other guests as well as the captain and his firstmate. Before I go any further, let me describe a felucca. Essentially, a felucca is a sailboat characterized by its bright colors and unique sails. As we learned, the captains of the feluccas sew together their own sails, lending to the individualized nature that they display. Now, getting back to the story. There were two couples and a single man already on board as we embarked. One couple introduced themselves as Kerry and Kathy, both from New Zealand and both currently living in London. They were in their early 30s. Kerry was a stocky man with a shaved head who told us that he used to be a rugby player. He is a contractor by trade for almost any kind of work you can imagine. Kathy was a blonde, somewhat serious woman who grew up on a farm with 4 sisters. Kerry and Kathy had been together for 7 years and were seasoned travelers.
The second couple I met were Daniel and Ana. Both born and raised in Britain, they were thoroughly charming. Daniel was a 25 year old graphic designer from London who loved to joke and laugh. His sharp wit and quick smile made him easy to get along with. Ana had jet black hair and a pretty face, and everything about her seemed gentile. She was 28, and currently employed as an animation artist for an ad agency in London. Despite her quiet manner, she was by no means a pushover. It didn't take long for me to realize that she too had a keen sense of humor. Daniel and Ana were also very seasoned travelers who had recently been to India for a month.
The other guest was a man in his late 40s by the name of Humberto. He was originally from Lima, Peru but for the past 19 years he has worked as the janitor at a factory in London. He spoke only a small amount of english, and quiet besides, but nonetheless he was a very friendly fellow who was always wearing a smile. The other two actors in this scene were the captain and his first mate. Captain Ayob was similar to Jamaica (our felucca captain from two days prior) in that he felt the need to brag and swear exessively whilst doing no work to speak of on the boat. His counterpart, Ibrahim, on the other hand did all the work rigging the sails, steering, cooking meals, and making tea. So there's the cast.
We sailed into the sunset (literally) and pulled into shore shortly after dark. According to Captain Ayob it wasn't safe to sail at night because of strong winds and the large cruise ships that patrol the waterways. So we made ourselves comfortable on the boat deck by laying out pads and blankets, and began an enjoyable evening of eating, talking, and laughing. I had honestly forgotten that it was Christmas Eve until Kerry brought up the subject. Everyone took turns telling about their Christmas traditions and other interesting anecdotes of the past, and before too long it was time to retire for some welcomed shuteye.
As I drifted off to sleep I mused to myself. This was definitely the strangest Christmas Eve I had ever experienced. I don't know of many people who can say they spent Christmas on a Felucca with 5 strangers-turned-friends from all over the world. With these thoughts in my mind, I drifted off with the rocking of the gentle waves.

Vacation: Part II

2009-01-15T13:17:00.000-08:00

I'm back for part two of my Christmas break adventures.

We pick up the story where we last left off--sleeping in the Nubian Oasis hotel in Aswan. The following morning we awoke at 3 AM in order to catch a convoy that was heading down to Abu Simbel. We boarded a bus and hit the road. Before many minutes we pulled off the road and parked amidst a group of about 10 other buses, all full of passengers. As we talked with the other tourists on the bus we learned that all foreigners traveling to Abu were required to travel in military escorted convoys because of an incident that had occured several years earlier. As the story goes, some tourists were kidnapped on the road by terrorists, and ever since then, anyone traveling that stretch had to have a military escort, just in case. Needless to say, it took awhile for all of the buses to be cleared for travel. But by 4 AM the long line of vehicles was once again moving.
The next thing I knew, we were pulling into the parking lot of the Abu Simbel temple. The driver told us that we had two hours to see the area before returning to the bus. As we emerged into the bright morning sunshine, I was struck by two things: First off, it was genuinely cold. I was glad that I had brought my jacket, because the wind was brisk. The second thing I observed was that the temple was set in a beautiful area. When the Aswan High Dam was being built in the 1960s, the temple was dismantled piece by piece and moved to higher ground where it was reassembled in a mountainside. Completeing the dam in 1971 led to the formation of the massive Nasser lake, which serves as the beautiful azure backdrop for the temple grounds. The early morning sunlight, the breeze, the lake, the deep blue sky; all of these combined to become a picturesque morning to see some ruins.
Abu Simbel is the sight of the Temple of Ramses II. If I had to describe this temple in one word, it would be big. The 4 statues standing (well, sitting actually) guard at the temple's entrance tower over visitors. More than many other sites we visited, Abu Simbel is very well maintained inside and out. Board planking makes floors level and easy to walk on while adequate and professional lighting makes viewing the many heiroglyphs easier. And so we perused the corridors of the late Ramses II's temple and in what seemed a brief period of time , we headed back to the bus to head to our next destination--the Aswan High Dam.
I'd like to say something right now: the Aswan High Dam is a misnomer. Calling that pile of rocks a high dam is like calling Michael Jordan a mediocre basketball player. Anyone who knows or has seen any dams can tell you that there is nothing high about that dam. It is built of successive layers of sand, rock, and dirt, with a small amount of concrete. But the worst part of all is that we had to pay for tickets to stand on the pathetic thing. Upon inspecting our tickets later that day, we discovered that they were probably fakes (All tickets to authentic Egyptian sites carry an embossed holographic seal, and these tickets had none). So after shooting the breeze for 15 minutes on the Aswan mildly-elevated pile-o-rocks, err... dam, we were again on the road, this time headed for Philae Temple.
Philae Temple, also known as the Temple of Ises, is built on an island in the Nile, and must be reached by ferry. Upon arriving, we were struck by the idyllic setting. The temple grounds are in relatively good shape, and unlike many other sites, Philae is quiet and rather peaceful. I must say that this was one of my favorite temples, and anyone who visits Aswan should make the trip out to see it.
Well, it was getting late in the afternoon when we left Philae and headed back into Aswan. But before our tour concluded, we made one more stop at the ancient quarry where the unfinished obelisk was sitting. It's size was impressive. According to our guide book, the obelisk was to be the largest ever constructed, at 42 meters. Workers were in the process of hewing it out of solid granite when a crack formed. Knowing that it was now useless, the workers abandoned it, still attached to the bedrock. The highlight of this visit was that Eric got to hold one of the guards' AK-47 for 10 LE. I was more than a little jealous, but it's okay, I took the pictures.
After all of this traveling, we were more than grateful to return to our hotel for some much-needed rest. Ricardo had moved on which left just Eric, Kevin and I. It wasn't long before all three of us were passed out, fast asleep.

That sums up our last full day in Aswan. Tune in next time to hear about our Felucca cruise, making new friends, and seeing some more temples.

Coming Soon...

Let it Snow?

2009-01-09T07:53:00.001-08:00

I find myself waiting for supper and reflecting over the past three weeks. Christmas break is officially over, and I've had a lot of adventures to tell about. So where should I begin? At the beginning I suppose. Here we go.

First of all, the crew for this trip consisted of Kevin, Eric, and myself. Our travel plan was fairly simple: catch a train down to Aswan, explore Abu Simbel and all the temples in the area, then mosey up to Luxor to check out the scene there, after which we would make our way to Zowek to spend a couple days with students. We would meet up with Daniel there. After our stay in the village we would go up to Asyut and catch a bus into the Western Desert, stopping off at a couple oases and seeing whatever there was to see. That was the plan...

We managed to procure 2nd class train tickets from Cairo to Aswan for the 21st of December. Our train left the station at 10:00 PM and traveled through the night to reach our destination. I must note here that amidst the chaos and unreliability of Egypt, I was pleasantly surprised to find that the trains stick to a pretty good schedule. I would also like to add that traveling by train was very relaxing. The seats are large and there is plenty of leg room. Needless to say, we arrived in Aswan on Monday at 12:30 PM.
It was as we were exiting the train station that we met the first of what turned out to be quite a list of interesting people. We were walking in stride with a well-tanned man with black hair and stubble who appeared to be in his 30s. After a brief introduction we learned that the man's name was Ricardo and he was from Spain. Since he had no plans either, we decided to stick together and find lodging. We checked out several potential hotels recommended in The Lonely Planet guide book, and finally settled on the Nubian Oasis hotel. For a reasonable price we got a 4 person room and a tour for the next day. Feeling quite pleased with ourselves, we headed out to explore the bustling tourist trap known as Aswan.
Aswan is a city of 1.2 million people located in Southern Egypt. To say it is a tourist town is an understatement. Everything is overpriced and catered to foreigners. However, this is not all bad. The streets were very clean, thanks to the garbage service, and despite all the scams, the town was actually rather quiet and calm. We perused the spice markets and wandered through some souqs (open-air bazaars) before heading down to the waterfront to catch a felucca ride across the river. The Nile is very busy in Aswan as was evidenced by the many feluccas, fishing boats, ferries, and cruise ships choking the water ways.
We chartered a felucca to take us across the river to the Tombs of the Nobles, after which we would explore among the various islands in the are. Our captain insisted that we call him Jamaica, and the reason soon became obvious. He was higher than a kite. Although the thought of a stoned man piloting our boat was a little disconcerting, we comforted ourselves with the thought that if we had to, we could always jump out of the boat and swim. Fortunately that never happened, and before long we were climbing the hillside to explore the Tombs of the Nobles.
The most rewarding part of the tombs wasn't the tombs themselves. The view from the top of the hill, however, was fantastic. Standing in the ruins of a large stone gazebo, we could look out in all directions and see Aswan laid out below us. After getting our fill of the tombs, we boarded the felucca once more and sailed around the many islands in the area. This voyage continued until after sunset, whereupon we debarked looking for food. What we ate isn't important, although the spaghetti was quite good. But the conversation we had with Ricardo was really interesting. Now keep in mind that there's no way of verifying his story, but all the same, it's worth telling anyway.
Ricardo told us that he was the son of a Spanish mother and a Columbian father. He went to school in Paris and Barcelona and is a fashion designer. He has traveled all over the world, both for work and leisure. His plans were to visit Paris, New York City, and Bogota within the week after he left Egypt. Ricardo also told us he had 3 passports; Columbian, Spanish, and American, enabling him access to virtually any country he desired to see. I can't verify this claim, and Ricardo said a lot of pretty fantastic things, so who knows. But more interesting than all of this were his ideas about life and religion. If ever there was a man of the world, Ricardo would be it. He proclaimed his belief that there was no God, yet he described how he believed every religion had their own "life force" that could be tapped. Apparently he had attended meetings from many different religious groups, including several cults. As his monologue continued, strange gaps in his logic became more and more evident. Although still a pretty nice guy, we realized that he was like a confused child, searching for meaning all over the world but never finding it. I really felt bad for him. Despite his success in this world, when it came right down to it, he was failing in the worst way. I wonder how man Ricardos there are out there...

So concludes the first day of my break. Tune in for the next installment.

As I Was Saying...

2008-11-28T10:51:00.001-08:00

Wow, it has truly been too long since my last post. The internet has been down more than it's been up lately, and I'm afraid that I've been shirking my duty when it did see fit to run. But just because I haven't written, doesn't mean that nothing has happened. Quite the opposite, really. I hope you've gone to the bathroom and brought snacks, because reading this is going to take awhile. Try not to get lost in the maze of dangling participles and conjunctions. I wish you the best of luck!

Now let's begin...

My anecdote took place on November 4, which you all know was voting day. Eric and I decided that we should make every effort to vote, since we are Americans, and voting is the most American thing one can do. So we set out on our journey to the American embassy at about 1:30 in the afternoon. By 3:45 we were standing in front of the embassy complex, ready to vote. However, this proved to be more difficult than we had anticipated. We strode up to the Egyptian man sitting behind thick, bulletproof glass and told him that we wanted to vote. He politely informed us that voting was closed, and that we should have come the day before. Eric and I looked at each other and decided to try again. We walked around the great wall of the embassy and came into the lobby of the main entrance. Once more we were greeted by an Egyptian man at the reception table. He too, told us that voting was closed, and that furthermore our request should be lodged at the window we were at first. So we walked back around the wall to our original location at the information window. Once more we asked to be allowed to vote, and once more we were denied. By this time, we were getting tired of dealing with the Egyptians working the entrances. So we insisted that we be allowed to speak with and American. reluctantly he directed us again to the main entrance. Upon our arrival we repeated our request and were ushered through a corridor until we stood before a checkpoint manned by a marine.
After listening to our plea to vote, the marine notified us apologetically that voting was indeed closed, but that she was very sorry. Feeling dejected, Eric and I were about to cut our losses and head home, when a middle-aged man wearing a blue suit strode up. he slapped his passport down and told the marine enthusiastically that he was there to vote. The marine relayed her apology to him, but he wouldn't have it. he notified her that we (he included Eric abd I) were American citizens and that we had the Constitutional right to vote for the President. Furthermore, he said, the embassy was technically American soil, and since it was November 4, we must be allowed to vote. Well, upon hearing this declaration, the marine got on the horn to one of her superiors.
After a few minutes, the marine hung up the phone and instructed us to head to the side entrance that Eric and I had visited twice before. So this time the three of us felt sure that we would be admitted so as to vote. However, our old Egyptian friend at the window had other plans. He insisted that we were not to be allowed inside, and that furthermore, the embassy was closed to visitors. This bit of news did not sit well with the man in the blue suit. He launched into a tirade on the Egyptian, quoting from the Constitution, declaring our freedoms as Americans, and all but demanding that we be allowed to vote. While taken aback, the Egyptian insisted that we could not enter. It was at this moment that the man in the blue suit played the trump card. He delivered an ultimatum: Either we would be allowed to vote, or he would call CNN and have them at the window in 10 minutes asking why American citizens were not being allowed to vote at their own embassy.
The man's eyes grew wide and he quickly begged the blue suit man to not follow through with his threat. The American in the suit then instructed the Egyptian to call Hanes Mahoney. Hanes Mahoney was the embassy director, and as we discovered, a personal friend of the man in the blue suit. It was at this juncture, while the Egyptian man was on the phone, that the American in the suit introduced himself to Eric and I. He told us his name was Darryl John Kennedy and that he was a composer and musician. He explained that he traveled the world giving concerts and performing for different foreign dignitaries and high caliber events. Just the night before he had performed in the Cairo Opera House, and he was currently finishing a six-month tour of Egypt. He continued by adding that his position afforded him many influential connections, including the directors of the American embassy, the Egyptian correspondant to CNN, and a slew of famous Egyptian actors and directors. In fact, he informed us that he had just completed the score for a major Egyptian movie set to be released in early 2009.
Needless to say, Eric and I were more than mildly impressed by this revelation. We continued to chat until the Egyptian man at the desk called Darryl over and passed him the telephone. The embassy director was on the line. Darryl greeted the man as if he were speaking to an old friend. After a light exchange, Mr. Kennedy handed the phone back to the man at the desk. Finally, the door was opened and we entered the hallowed inner sanctum of the complex. The Egyptian man was very apologetic and he made every effort to expedite us to the makeshift polls. And so it was that at 5:15 we were able to vote for President of the United States.
Afterwards, Darryl gave us his personal cell phone number and told us that if there was ever anything we needed, that we shouldn't hesitate to call him. We thanked him profusely, and then parted company.

Still awake? I'm impressed. Stay tuned for the next installment. Coming soon. I promise...

Rain, and other occurances of late

2008-10-31T13:00:00.000-07:00

Yes, it's true. Last Friday it rained here. And not only did it rain, but it rained hard. I was working on class planning in the computer lab and I stepped outside only to discover that the heavens had opened up and it was truly and genuinely wet outside. Accompanying this downpour was wind, lightning, and thunder. This lasted for about a half hour and then subsided. The day continued and I didn't think anything else of it. But a few hours later the same thing happened. This time the showers lasted for over an hour, thoroughly soaking everything not covered. I just stood outside for a couple minutes, letting the rain hit me. I closed my eyes and for a moment I felt like I was back home in Oregon. I later found out that the last time it had rained that hard was about 8 years ago. I'm glad that I was here to experience something unusual.
There were some unfortunate side effects to all the precipitation, however. Nothing in Egypt is built for rain. The roofs are sunken and have no pitch whatsoever. Some students with large squeegies had to climb onto the roofs of all the buildings to prevent them from collapsing. Another problem that resulted had to do with the power. Now, remember, here in Cairo it rains maybe once or twice a year and even then it is in trace amounts that are almost negligable. So it may not be any surprise that all of the power wires leading to the circuit boxes and transformers are exposed to the elements. So when water came into contact with these wires it caused an electrical surge that damaged electronics, burnt out light bulbs, and in the boys dorm started a small fire.
All told, the electrical mishap destroyed two laptop power cables, a computer battery backup, the main computer lab printer, and other assorted appliances. Things are basically back to normal now, but I will never forget the day it rained in Cairo.

But that was last week. Now let's talk about yesterday.

Every year the SA here plans a trip to Cairo's own theme park- Dream Park. So yesterday the entire student body loaded onto buses and made the trek across town (no small undertaking) and arrived at about 11:00 at the front gates. We spent the next 9 hours exploring the park, visiting the attractions, and generally having a good time. I was pleasantly surprised to discover that Dream Park was in most ways comparable to any American theme park. There were some minor differences of course (you had to pay extra money to ride the big roller coasters, for instance) but on the whole it was very similar. I have to say that my favorite part of the day was playing bumper cars with NUA students. There were enough of us that we could occupy all 20 cars at once. The ensuing melee was the stuff of legend. I, of course prevailed thanks to my exceptional driving skills. But Some of my students felt the rubbery wrath of my bumper!
I also enjoyed the time I spent getting to know the students outside the classroom. It was really good for me to not be a teacher for once, but instead just a friend. After all, a fair number of the students are at least as old as I am, and in some cases older.
So that brings my story to the present. I think I'll go to bed now. Thanks for reading.

I don't know...

2008-10-19T11:22:00.001-07:00

I have learned some truths the hard way recently. One of them is that Muslim's don't think. I know all of you are gasping and shaking your heads at this revelation of my apparent intolerance, but I can back up this statement. When I came to Egypt I feel safe in saying that I had a very open mind about my experience here, including the role of Islam in Egyptian culture. But after nine weeks I can tell you all with certainty, that Islam isn't doing anyone any good here. It teaches absolute adherence without question, and therefore it comes as know surprise that nobody thinks. Whenever it comes to light that I am American, the Egyptian response is always: "I like Americans, but not their government." The reason for this is simple. The United States is a strong supporter of Israel, and Egyptians hate Israelis--a lot. Why? Because they were taught to. They don't even know why. It is the same with any given topic. They Like or dislike this or that only because that is the way they were taught. To think for one's self is not only discouraged, but according to Islam it is virtually forbidden. Even the word Islam means 'one who submits'. I am eternally grateful that I was born into a nation that encourages free thought. I am equally thankful that I am part of a religion that has firm reasoning for its teachings. I never appreciated these things as much as I do now.
Another point of frustration is the dysfunction and deceit that permeates life here. 9 out of 10 people on the street are out to take advantage of any situation. I find many friendly people wherever I go, but I have discovered that this friendliness is only a facade for alterior motives. Anyone is willing to be your friend--for a fee. Even amongst the students I am vigilant of over-friendliness. Too often the students try to become your favorite only to gain some sort of special treatment. I am sad to say that I trust few people here.

So that's my rant. Hope you enjoyed it. And now onto something new...

A couple weekends ago I had the privilege to go with the ministry team to the village of Massra, a place about 6 hours south of Cairo. On Friday morning Eric, Myself, and 10 others crowded into a minibus for the long trek there. The scenery was generally boring along the way, although I did get my first glimps of the Western Desert (All I can say is that there's a lot of sand out there). Stepping out of the door in Massra was like going back in time. Mud-brick buildings lined a quiet street along which men in traditional robes strode past and donkeys trotted complainingly. Our group stayed with the only Adventist family in town. Their abode was a large three-story structure occupied by three brothers and their respective families. In all, four generations were represented under one roof. The family made a living by raising crops, cows, and pigeons. The latter of these were raised in the house, giving a curious odor to the place.
But what the house lacked in amenities, the people made up for in hospitality. I had heard stories about the way in which guests were treated in Upper Egypt, but I never expected them to be so true. At meal times they would herd all of the guests into a separate room set out with a veritable smorgazboard of food. After we had eaten our fill, the family would come in to eat what was left over. When we met together in the main room it was a time for stories, songs, and laughter. My only regret from the weekend was that I didn't bring an extra camera battery, and so when my battery died prematurely I was forced to finish the weekend sans photographs. oh well.

So until next time, I'll be here, where will you be?

It's been awhile

2008-10-04T18:30:00.000-07:00

Hello all!

I can't believe how fast things have been going as of late. It's already been six weeks since I first set foot on Egyptian soil and I've hardly had a chance to catch my breath. I am currently on a break that lasts until Wednesday, then it's back to teaching classes. Not much is new in the school here, so I will be happy to tell you about the adventures I have had this break.
Last Tuesday Miguel, Daniel, Eric and I boarded a bus bound for Sharm El Sheik, a tourist hot spot on the tip of the Sinai peninsula. We arrived there at about 2:30 AM and by 4:00 we were on the road again headed for our real destination: Dahab. Dahab is a small coastal town situated along the Gulf of Aqaba. Due to it's remote locale, it doesn't see nearly as many tourists as Sharm and that makes all the difference in the world. When we arrived in Dahab, the sun was just rising. After consulting Eric's copy of the ever trusty Lonely Planet guide book we hit the streets looking to rent a couple rooms for the week. Finally we settled into a couple of rooms at a joint called Alaska Camp- a favorite of backpackers. After resting and cleaning up, the four of us headed out to see the town. Now Dahab exists for two reasons: for scuba divers, and for windsurfers. All along the seashore dive shops abound, mostly run by expatriate Europeans who offer fantastic tours to the areas many reefs. To compliment these shops are a slew of restaurants, bazaars, and hotels, making Dahab a fantastic place to come relax.
So, for the next few days we filled our time eating, sleeping, and lounging. I of course busied myself with some photography as well, but all in all I did as little as possible. I cannot describe to you how gloriously beautiful my time there was. The most active thing I did was scuba diving in the warm water and admiring the myriad of marine life. The rest and relaxation was exactly what I had been needing, and I enjoyed every moment of it. So that was Dahab. And now the real story begins...
Daniel Kempf is an SM from France who works as a maintenance supervisor here. He was at NUA last year and all of his knowldege about how things work here has proved invaluable. Needless to say, he knows what he wants, and he is always determined to get it on his terms. He absolutely will not let himself get ripped off by locals, which in most cases is definitely admirable. Anyway, on Saturday we chartered a minibus to take us to St. Katherine's monastary at the foot of Mount Sinai. Our plan was to visit the monastary and then begin climbing the mountain in time to watch the sun set. We would then sleep on the summit, watch the sun rise, and head back down into town to catch a minibus back to Cairo. It seemed like a feasible plan.
However, things got interesting once we actually arrived at St. Katherine's. While attempting to enter the monastary, a security guard confronted Daniel, insisting that Daniel had taken a picture of him. Daniel told the man adamantly that he had not, but the man persisted. After some more bickering Daniel ignored the man and walked away to look at the sights. All seemed fine until we attempted to climb the mountain later that afternoon. As we walked past the entrance of the monastary (the two paths leading up Sinai originate in the valley next to the monastary) the same security guard rushed out and demanded that we have a tour guide with us. This was strange for three reasons: 1. Daniel had climbed the mountain two other times and had never needed a guide before 2. Everyone one else we had talked to that day told us that tour guides were optional, not required & 3. This was the same guard who had hassled Daniel earlier in the day about the picture.
It was evident that this guard was full of it; expressing some sort of vendetta for the earlier events of the day. So the four of us headed way from the monastary until we ran into a tour group headed up the mountain. We quickly blended in until we passed the entrance to the monastary. The same guard again rushed out and confronted Daniel, this time demanding that we go back and get a different tour guide. By this time we were very upset with this guard. Daniel, especially was livid at this man's actions. So, together we formed a plan to sneak around the back of the monastary and get far enough up the hill that even if the guard saw us, he wouldn't be able to catch us. So that's what we did. With the help of a local bedouin boy, we stealthily went around the other side of the monastary and up to an alternate path. As we ascended higher, we heard shouting down below and saw some tiny figures rushing about. However, we didn't wait around to find out who they were yelling at. The next morning we awoke early and headed down. To avoid any confrontation we opted to take a round about route to the town of St. Katherine's, thereby avoiding the monastary altogether. And so after a day of travel, I find myself back at NUA, trying to gear up for classes on Wednesday.

So that's the update from Egypt. Finally some relaxation and an adventure to boot! I promise not to wait so long before my next post. Thanks for listening,

-Monte

Waiting

2008-09-10T02:44:00.001-07:00

Things here just keep changing. At the moment I am teaching only 12th grade history and watching the computer lab here. I did have two ESL computer classes, but they were canceled. So here I wait. Things should be picking up pretty quickly, though. Eric Barnes arrived last-night, completing the list of SMs here. I suspect I will be taking at least one of his classes to replace the two I lost; I just don't know which one(s) yet.
Week 1 of school is well under way and all is going smoothly thus far. The students are enthusiastic and very friendly and with 137 enrolled there isn't very much quiet time. The cafeteria is up and running which could be viewed as good or bad. The good side is that it's free for me and I don't have to prepare my own food. however... what can one say about cafeteria food? It's not bad, but... it could be better. A typical meal consists of fuul (slow-cooked beans), salad (cut-up cucumbers and tomatoes), some soft (and very salty) cheese, and pita. It tastes good, but when you eat it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, it loses its charm.
Speaking of charm, Ramadan is well under way which is interesting in its own way. The main difference here on campus is that the prayers are louder, longer, and more frequent. However, right at sunset a magical thing happens: The streets become deserted! For those of you not up on your Ramadan tradition, during the month of Ramadan, muslims fast while the sun is up, and then feast all night long. So right when the sun goes down, everyone disappears from sight into their homes and stuffs themselves silly with all manner of food. it makes travel quite convenient and quick and we try our best to take advantage of this lull when heading into town.
So for now, that's all I have to report. Thanks for reading!

So...

2008-09-01T11:07:00.000-07:00

Not mush to report as of late. I've been busy organizing everything for the classes that I'm teaching this year. I have been assigned 10th grade U.S. History, 11th grade World History, and 12th grade Modern World History. So hooray for history! I look forward to the challenge of teaching with great anticipation, and the wait is almost over. Thursday is registration and classes begin on Sunday.
Aside from class preparation things have been relatively calm here. Daniel, the returning French SM arrived last night, bringing our ranks to four. Miguel, Bethany, and myself are the other three. I have yet to meet Laura and Eric when they arrive. It looks as though Eric and I are the only Student Missionaries that are actually students. Thus far all of the others have graduated from college already. Oh well, I have no problem being the baby here.
Ramadan started today, which means that the calls to prayer are louder and seemingly more frequent than normal. I have heard that during Ramadan the local drivers are even more impatient and erratic than usual. This doesn't bode well, considering that the other night I was in a minibus that hit a pedestrian. Granted the man was walking in the middle of the road. But I digress...
For those of you who haven't heard, I have my first batch of Egypt photos posted at Picasa Web so check them out. Other than that, I wish you all well and I'll talk at you later.

-Monte

To Suez and Back!

2008-08-26T13:10:00.000-07:00

Today I went with a large group to a resort on the Suez Canal and boy was it fun. The group consisted of myself, the Millers who are the full time Missionary family, the conference president Samir and his wife Tanya, another SM named Bethany who has been staying at Samir's house, and about 60 friends and family's who signed up to go on the trip through the conference (apparently it had been planned for some time). Our trip began with a 2 hour bus ride out to the resort, a trip that I honestly don't remember as I was sleeping the whole time. I was pleasantly surprised to find that the accommodation at the resort was top notch, and I spent a leisurely day swimming in the bathtub like water , soaking up the sun, and lounging by the two pools present there. Even our food was catered at the on site restaurant! Not a bad way to spend a Tuesday.
While on this trip I had the opportunity to meet a host of new and interesting people and I discovered why Egyptians are known for their friendliness. Perhaps one of the more interesting acquaintances I made was a boy three years older than I named Michael. He spoke very good english and we spent a majority of the day hanging out together. He assured me that whenever I wanted to go to a place of interest in Cairo that he would be happy to act as my guide. And I was finally able to take some good quality photos. A lot of photos. I will be posting all of my photos online hopefully by tomorrow for you all to peruse.
Well, I seem to be exhausted from my little trip today, so I'm going to call it a day. Thanks for reading.

Shaken, not stirred.

2008-08-23T03:07:00.000-07:00

I need to finish my story about the trip over to Egypt. I guess the only notable part would be the person I met on the plane ride from Portland to Frankfurt. We rode on an Airbus with 8 seats per row, two on each end and then four in the middle. Well, as luck would have it, I ended up in the very middle of the row, not a place I would have chosen for myself. But just as I was cursing my misfortune, a young woman, in her early 20s sat down beside me. So, for the next 10 hours we had the opportunity to talk. I discovered that her name was Nadia and that she was on her way to Ukraine. As we talked, I learned that she was originally from Belarus but had been living in the United States for 8 years. Currently she was working as an accountant at Intel in Hillsboro, and was taking a vacation to visit her family.

At one point during the flight, as drinks were being passed out, Nadia announced to me that she was going to be consuming alcohol. I told her that it was fine with me, and then I proceeded to get a Sprite while she chose wine. She asked me why I hadn’t ordered something alcoholic, and quickly followed that with an assurance that if I was underage she would gladly get something for me. Also she informed me that the drinking age in Germany, (our flight was on Lufthansa Air) was 18 so I would be fine. So sporadically for the remainder of the flight she decided to try to get me to drink. At one point she returned to her seat with a glass of Bailey’s in hand. She offered it to me, but since it smelled like paint thinner, I thought better of ingesting it.

Despite her penchant for liquor I was very glad to have someone friendly to talk to and joke with on the otherwise long and dreary flight. Even after disembarking at Frankfurt International Airport Nadia and I stuck together for the hour until my next flight. She even took me to the Duty Free store pointing out which bourbon and whiskey was the best (She was purchasing it for her father since it was cheaper at the Airport then in Belarus). When we finally parted company I was sad to see her go. She was the last American I spoke to before arriving here in Egypt, and I suspect I won’t forget her for a long time.

So now I find myself sitting in my darkened room at 5 till 7 listening to the sound of car horns outside and waiting for my alarm to go off. Today we’re going to church across town in Heliopolis, a suburb of Cairo. I hear the journey is quite epic, and I am excited about my first chance to ride the metro. But for now, I wait…

What seems to be the problem, officer?

2008-08-23T02:49:00.001-07:00

I learned something important today: Egyptians can’t drive. Or maybe they’re very good at driving. Or they’re very lucky. I’m not sure which. Driving here is a combination of guts, skill, and a healthy amount of luck. I have never been as exhilarated or terrified as I am when riding in a vehicle here in Cairo.

One of the first things I noticed about the roads and cars here is that the cars have steering wheels on the same side as we do in the US, and that they drive on the right side of the road as well (when they’re not passing at breakneck speed on the other side, which is frequently). In the rich downtown communities BMWs, Toyotas, Mercedes, and Hondas are easily spotted, but in the poorer neighborhoods such as the one I am living in, old Datsuns, Peugots, Diahatsus, and Suzukis are the norm. I don’t believe that I have yet seen a car that does not have some form of body damage on it. This fact is attested to by the alarming frequency of body shops along each road. In the half mile stretch of road I traveled today I encountered no less than 7 automotive shops, each with at least one car partially disassembled on the street in front of it.

Cairenes honk their horns continually. I quickly learned that this was not out of anger or frustration, but simply a way of letting everyone else know that they were about to step into the fray and pass, so watch out. I honestly don’t know why the cars here have blinkers, because I have yet to see one person use them. There is never a dull moment in a vehicle. Today Ron, Methat and I went down the road about ½ mile to buy paint and other supplies. We hailed a minibus (a minibus is actually a Suzuki or Toyota van that has been retrofitted with more seats than it ought to have, and holds even more people than there are seats for) and held on. The only rule for driving is get there first. And somehow this works. In a city of 20 million people, I am amazed that accidents aren’t more frequent.

Basically, if you are stuck behind a bus, you pull out and accelerate until you have either successfully passed them or you are about to hit an oncoming vehicle in which case you slam on the brakes and honk your horn copiously. This is all happening while sharing the road with donkeys, motorcycles, and oblivious pedestrians who nonchalantly cross at their own whim, despite traffic conditions. All in all, driving here is a delightful experience that I hope all of you can one day enjoy.

The Journey

2008-08-21T08:57:00.000-07:00

My battery is getting low, so this is going to have to be brief for now. Basically I have arrived in Egypt safely, and already I have had some unique experiences. Currently I am sitting in a lone chair in the computer lab of Nile Union Academy. Upon my arrival here on campus I was introduced to the staff, including Samir Berbawy, the president of the union here in Egypt, and his wife Tanya. I have settled into my apartment and things are looking up. Tomorrow I will be painting and doing maintenance with Ron, another American who moved here with his family for the year. So tonight I sleep, and tomorrow I work.

My battery is at critical now, so I'm signing off. I can here evening prayers taking place at the mosques surrounding us. Their wales and chants are strangely beautiful...

This is just a test

2008-08-18T12:16:00.000-07:00

So here I am packing and preparing to fly out on Wednesday. I have lots of questions and lots of energy and I don't have anything to do with either right now. Oh well. Only two more days...