Walking Like an Egyptian

Before traveling to Egypt two weeks ago, my knowledge of Egyptian people and traditions were, admittedly, rather limited to the images of pharaohs, pyramids, and walking with arms and wrists bent at awkward angles. There is nothing like traveling to the country itself to realize how little you know about it, and in this case, especially its people. I could write about how we saw the Sphinx and pyramids, crawled inside the Great one, saw the mummies of a variety of Egyptian royalty, including King Tut (side note: the reason why King Tut is so famous among other pharaohs, besides his notoriously young age, is because his tomb was the last to be discovered and was the only tomb where the treasures buried inside hadn't been stolen), walked through various ancient temples, sailed on the Nile at sunset, and flew in a hot air balloon across the Valley of the Kings and Nile. And though those experiences were unique and just as grand as you would imagine, instead I would like to focus on the people of Egypt, the people who preserve, make an industry out of, and live amongst these ancient treasures. I found myself in a constant state of intrigue when walking among Egypt's people.

We arrived in Cairo very late Saturday night/Sunday morning. I spent the last 15 minutes of the flight anxiously looking out of the window trying to find the pyramids (which I couldn't) and squealing with delight when we first spotted the Nile. We landed, got a cool traveler's visa stamped in our passports, and went out to meet the driver who would take us to our hotel. Once we got to the taxi, suddenly 3 other men appeared from the sides to offer to put our bags on top of the car. Tired and naive, we willingly handed over our bags to, who we presumed to be, our driver's helpers. It wasn't until I was the last one to get inside the taxi and they held out their hands requesting "baksheesh" for their hard work that we realized that their job was to wait for gullible American tourists such as ourselves to offer this service and request a tip afterwards. And so was our first impression of Egyptians.

Our perception changed greatly after this first encounter. All it took was a night watching Egypt play Cameroon for the Africa National Cup and seeing the whole city erupt when Egypt proved victorious. Never have I seen, nor do I think I will ever see, such a diverse range of fans (young adults, children, women, grandparents) be so passionately cheering for a team...and without a drop of alcohol present (for, you see, I am used to Belgium where most spectators are 20-30 something men chugging beer). As we were told by our Egyptian friend we met when we arrived in Cairo, "Egyptians take any excuse they can to celebrate big." And that they did: honking until 4 am, shooting out flames of fire, climbing on top of and jumping off bus stop shelters BIG. I thought it was awesome.

One of my other personal favorite Egyptian encounters was riding a metro through Cairo. The cars are separated by gender and are very, very crowded. When trying to get on with my friends, I was pushed back and couldn't get on the same car as them. So I waited for the next car and got on by myself. When I stepped onto the car, the fist thing I noticed is that I was the only tourist in the whole car. I was also the only woman without a headscarf. And so, for the first time in my life, I was the lone minority. Every woman in the car watched what I was doing, where I was stepping, what I was carrying. The novelty of my presence wore off after about 2 minutes, only leaving me with a taste of what it was to be singled out by appearance, and left me wondering what it must be like for people who feel that for much longer and more often.

The second city we visited in Egypt was called Luxor, and sat a couple hundred km south of Cairo in what they call Upper Egypt (due to the Nile flowing North). Luxor was a very pleasant change after Cairo. For what Cairo had in crowds and congestion, Luxor made up for in lush greenness off the Nile and relaxation. What we didn't realize about Luxor before we arrived is that tourism is, by far, their greatest source for income. When walking down the streets of Luxor, or at least down the main boardwalk, we wouldn't go more than 5-7 seconds without being hassled by someone offering a taxi ride or a carriage ride or fallucca ride or a ferry ride across the river. And if they weren't offering services, they were instead offering catcalls such as, "Lucky man (to our lone male traveler). How many camels for your wife?" "You look like a tourist, but you walk like an Egyptian." It left us feeling so frustrated that we actually opted to stay in our hotel at times to avoid the line of men waiting to say something to us.

And then, on our very last day in Luxor, my whole perception of people in Luxor changed. One of my friends, Megan, spotted a bakery called No Name Bakery not too far from our hotel. We went inside to be greeted by a young woman named Eman, who was more than eager to treat us to every sample they had of cookies and bread. She spoke little English, and we, even less Arabic, and so our conversation consisted of exchanging smiles and giggles and key phrases in each other's languages. It was the first time I felt like I could speak naturally to someone from Luxor without fear of them requesting a tip afterwards. And as if that encounter wasn't great enough, we moved with full tummies around the corner into a gift shop to buy some last minute souvenirs. We were greeted by another woman who spoke beautiful English and, again, was more than eager to help us. Where in most stores no items have price tags on them and everything bought needs to be haggled, this store offered prices for all items in their store catalog. And not only did we not have to haggle, but this woman willingly took her time to go through almost every story on the papyrus scrolls they were selling and what each symbol or hieroglyphic meant. Meanwhile, a man who also worked in the shop, the most quiet and considerate man I met in Luxor, kept busy serving us free drinks and pointing out gifts he thought we would like. It was the most wholesome afternoon I spent during my week in Egypt, for it finally gave my reassurance that not all salespeople were out to rip us off and not all favors would later require baksheesh. I will always be grateful for those two women to give me such a positive image of Egyptian people to replace the images I had previously harbored.

I still have much to learn about Egypt and Egyptians, but am so grateful to have finally visited a country whose culture is so different from my own. The Egyptian images in my head of pyramids and pharaohs have now been replaced by the faces of Essam and Amar, our friends in Cairo who took us to watch the soccer game and who so selflessly offered help in showing us the city. Of Eman who wanted nothing more than for us to enjoy the baked goods she and her family helped create. The woman and man in the gift shop (I'm kicking myself for not learning their names) who so patiently helped us find the best gifts to purchase. Bruises on the foreheads of men from their five daily prayers...listening to the call to prayer sounding from mosques all throughout the city...women wearing ornate and colorful headscarves, others without an inch of skin showing in their full-bodied, black burkas...rugs stacked in the train station for men to pull out and use during the call to prayer...shameless pride in faith. And all I want to do now is learn more. What a unique mindset travelers face: an insatiable need to see and learn more, for visiting one city causes the desire to see another. For as the saying goes, "The more you learn, the more you realize you don't know."