Day by Day
By Candice A.
Today was D-day, either venture out into the crazy streets of Cairo once more and visit the infamous Egyptian Museum - or miss out until months from now when we'll be in the city again. Despite being tired and having been ravaged by the stomach flu, we decided to take the opportunity while it was at hand. We managed to get three blocks from the hostel and could see the Museum across the wide boulevard when a man approached, offering to help keep us from getting run over crossing the street. Like many other Egyptians thus far, he proclaimed his love for Obama and America, then proceeded to tell us his story of the previous night with no sleep due to the birth of his granddaughter. In addition to that, it was the Islamic holy day - so all was right with the world and he was feeling no pain. In fact, it was such a special day he volunteered the confidential info that it would be better for us to see the Museum after 2pm in order to avoid all the other tourist. And since we were somewhat early, why not come and have some tea in his shop right down the way? After all, he has the best scented essences that could be found in all of Egypt. I'm sure that you can see where all of this is leading. Yes, we got suckered into the perfume shop, but he did have some delightful mango flower oil which I had never seen or smelled anywhere before. So the time was not a complete waste.
We finally manage to cross the street. Each time we do this and manage to survive, I want to kneel down and kiss the ground - thankful for another chance to breathe the smog-filled air. At the first entrance to the museum, the guard wants to see some id. We show him our ISIC cards (International Student Identification), but this isn't sufficient, he wants to see our passports. Interesting. I had some suspicions as to what this was about, and they were confirmed later by our landlady. Apparently, if you hold an Egyptian passport, you aren't welcome in the hotels, museums - any of the so-called 'tourist' spots. Stinks a bit too much like apartheid to me.
At the next checkpoint, we buy the tickets. This area was infested with rude tourists who didn't think that they should stand in line, but jump in front of you instead. We missed the third checkpoint and went ahead to the fourth, which was a big metal detector. (As a side note, all of the metal detectors I've gone through prior to and after this excursion, have been completely ignored when they go off.) The last hurdle was the only true security measure - a lady that rifled through your bags looking for cameras. If she found one, you would have to go all the way back to checkpoint number three and have them hold it for you. And so, we fought our way past some Japanese and Russian tourists, checked the camera, and finally got inside. Though it was dark, dusty and cramped, the antiquities were as majestic as I'd read about and imagined. If we'd managed to sneak in the camera, it would be no sweat taking pictures because the guards were either nodding or disinterested. Maybe next time.......
Saw quite a few huge golden crates that resembled the 'ark' from the Indiana Jones movie. The most interesting pieces by far were the statues that are said to be representative of Akhnenaton. Something wasn't right. Why did a 'man' have what are clearly breast, very wide hips, pouched belly resembling childbirth and feminine facial features? Hmmmm. One statue had the head lopped off. The caption said that there was uncertainty as to whether this was supposed to be Akhnenaton, or Nefertiti - his wife. How or why would a husband be confused with his wife? Did a little bit of research on this and there are many theories floating around. Some say that this particular artistic period was very liberal in meshing together male and female attributes. Others speculate that he had some 'disease' that made him have these feminine characteristics. I choose to just believe what my eyes tell me, cause there is definitely something not right with what we have been told to see thus far.
Well, I wouldn't say we were suckered into a perfume shop. We had already said we wanted to buy oil to kill the smell coming from a certain young person's shoes, so the stop was what we already asked for. If we had went into the other shop of his, that would have been getting suckered. We didn't. There is an art to be learned of getting what you want accomplished in any situation, even the typical situation.
ReplyDeleteA negative person would look at the harrassment as being for no purpose. However, where else in the world can you go and be guaranteed tea, for just looking in a shop. But we always want to buy drinks at starbucks...
These things solve themselves, it is easier to know where you are going if you lead the way. Can't be afraid of crossing the street, even in such a foreign environment, afraid to die? Live better. No fears.
Besides, the man served us, he was pointing the entrance to the museum, which neither of us knew, since neither had been there before. We would have chose the front as the entry point which would have been wrong in this case. At least I would have, and I was leading.
The passport issue seeems complex to me. The locals live off of tourism, it is essential. So when tourists are constantly harrassed it presents a problem. This isn't exactly apartheid or even close IMO. It isn't based on race, it isn't based on class. It is based on money. This is a colonial artifact, I agree, that has to do with keeping tourists dollars flowing in an understandable direction. But, I have more problems with police guarding the sites with AK 47's and even that is understandable.