Egyptian Museum

We headed to the Egyptian Museum after all our stomachs had settled and our legs were back to some normalcy. I guess I should explain about the legs, that started the other day when we all walked up the red pyramid. The red pyramid was constructed at around 2500 BC by a pharaoh named Snefru.

While we all walked up to the entrance to the pyramid, only me and Leah went in. The going down was tricky, as the entrance and passageway slanted and was poorly lit. It is a three feet high and four feet long passage way. The passage stretches for a couple hundred feet or so. Once you reach the other end of the passage, you enter one of the three chambers housed within. You then climb a flight of stairs to view the other two chambers. It is a sumblime experience to be in the center of a pyramid. It is worth soaking in. After viewing, you climb back up the small passage, I was huffing and puffing, Leah, on the other hand was, just fine. You really have to love youth.

On the way up we saw a group of Russian tourists, and we spoke to them. Most of them spoke back. I realized even then, that my legs were going to be giving me hell for the next few days.
They started when going down those other steps that led up to the passageway from the outside, where the other kids and Candice were waiting. I realized that I would probably have to help CJ down, and I prayed we wouldn't fall off the side of the pyramid.

Anyway, back to today. My legs are feeling a bit better, but still have the tingling memories of the climb down the passage. Candice is recovering from Cleopatra's revenge and we know that if we are going to do the Egyptian Museum it has to be now. So we all get ready really slowly and head out.

We know the Egyptian Museum is about two or three blocks away. However, we know traffic can be hell, and this is a main street we are talking about. It is busy even though today - a Friday is equivalent to Saturday in the US, everyone is off from work and all.

So we head down the street and we are talking about how bad the traffic is and right when we are talking about it, crash! Right in front of our eyes this guy hits this ladies car. Then he gets out and yells at her. They are going on and on, so I snap a few pictures, we chuckle and move on.



Then we are approached by a gentleman, across the street from the museum. He is very friendly, which I should have known would be a problem. He tells us he speaks English and has been to Colorado, went skiing and broke a leg. He agrees that the streets are very chaotic, four million cars, twenty million people, one big city. He advised us not to go to the museum until after two, because that was when the tourists would begin to clear out. This was probably good advice. He says he wants us to have his card and if we need anything to call him. hmmm. He invites us for tea - the classic sales pitch. This time we have two choices, one is the papyrus shop and the other is the body oil shop. I wasn't going to do the papyrus, but I am a nut for body oil, so we sit and he starts his Bedouin bit.



"I am a Bedouin, you know what I mean, you know what a Bedouin means? There is only one God, you call him Allah, Jehovah, whatever, but we all have one God. A Bedouin doesn't drink, steal, cheat, non of that..." Yeah, so we have tea. He breaks out this mango body oil. I have smelled a lot of body oil, used to sell it too, but I have to admit this was pretty good stuff, the rest of his stuff was so so, but that mango oil was good. So we bought some and listened to a few more of his stories. He had photos of Omar Sharif chilling in his place. He said Omar liked the orange oil as aftershave. Figured, if it was good enough for Omar, it was good enough for me.
Then we had to negotiate prices. I will come to learn to love this part. Right now though, it is pretty annoying. However, it is funny how ritualized the whole bargaining process is. So we buy the oil and leave.

We try to cross the street and there is wild traffic crossing. It seems like chaos screaming towards you at every second crossing, and you have to deal with this from traffic racing chaotically both ways. We make it past the traffic and we hit the entry gate which is not the entrance to the museum. This gate is where they check for passports. I dig out an ID because I'm a bit superstitious about my passport, I have visions of bad bad things pop in my mind whenever I am not in possession of it. He insists, and is a government soldier, so I dig out my passport and he scrutinized it for a bit hands it back.

We go to the next gate which is the entrance to the museum, you have to be checked there as well. They look at my bag where I have some coins stored and they are like, "what is this?" I say, "a few coins." I see the guards eyes and go to grab them back, and he keeps eying them. One guard offers, souvenirs? I agree. Slowly he gives them back and we move on to the ticket desk.

Even before the ticket desk I realized that there were hell of Russian and Japanese tourists. Now they could have been some Chinese and Slovaks as well, but to me they looked Japanese and Russian. So I get in line with the kids and Candice behind me.

That is when this crazy Russian lady hops in front of me. I look at her and see out of the corner of her eyes, her friend coming to cut me off too. Nope, I cut in front of her. She said, "I am with her." I said, "I know, but they are with me and your friend cut me off because of that." Her friend calls me a horrid man or something like that. Then she called me something like an asshole. That really did it for me, because I am pretty mellow, but she cuts in front of me and then insults me. So I called her a very very dirty name. Actually it was a series of insults, the human mouth is a very dirty place after all. The place I called her is probably dirtier. The people around us are clowning. When she walks off I add a bit of salt and pepper. She looks frazzled. The ticket clerk looks at me apologetically, I assume that means I was in the right.

The museum is packed. We find out that we have to go back outside and check the camera because there is a separate checkpoint for cameras at the door to the museum. I contemplate forsaking the experience until we return to Cairo in a few months, it is very crowded and some of the patrons look worse than they smell. The best look like they have been hijacked from Disneyland and are waiting to see Mickey. I wonder what we look like.

Candice encourages me to go ahead and leave the camera. The camera check process is quicker than I thought, and somewhat secure, although someone does try to move ahead of me in line, I box them out. I think I will use the tsk sound with a finger next time. We enter the museum. There appear to be many questions that surround the connections between different periods though. Might be something more than meets the eye.

When we view Tutankhamen treasure I anger as I have to jockey for position. We will have to pick the time of our next visit very carefully. On our way back down the street cabs approach plentifully. I explain, we are three blocks away. I tell them exactly where, they drive on, to close for comfort. We race across the street a few times and arrive back at our room. New guests are arriving as we begin our departure.