Sunday, March 8, 2009

Cairo Trip, chapter 3: Walking with Jesus





No, I didn’t find my savior; I found my friend Jesus Villegas, a fellow ELF who is based in Tunisia and who is an avid and gifted photographer. Once we met up at the ELF meeting on Sunday, we hung out, taking several photographic excursions over the next few days.

On our first outing after meetings ended around 4 pm, we took a cab to the area near the museum, then wandered along the river and back. Just getting across the street to the river promenade area was a challenge. I was amazed to see horses pulling carriages in the midst of all that traffic. For one thing, the setting seemed unsuitable for something as romantic and fanciful as a horse-and-buggy ride. And those horses (not to mention the drivers) must have nerves of steel, or perhaps no nerves at all anymore.

The river walk was populated mostly by young lovers and tourists. Vendors were set up here and there selling shockingly bright-colored beverages and snacks such as chickpeas boiled in a round metal pot. We tried some chickpeas, once we got the price down from the 20 pounds originally quoted (nearly $4) to 5 pounds for two cups full. They were served in a salty, tasty broth, in tall plastic glasses. Quite filling. The vendor didn’t appreciate my taking a photo of his stand, but I did anyway. After all, I’d been a customer.

Cairo Trip, chapter 3, part 2





As we walked, dusk slowly fell in a wash of pink and grey, with the young lovers taking advantage of the darkness. Once we reached the Hyatt Hotel, we decided to go in and visit the revolving bar at the top. The elevator took us up 40 floors, but at the top we found only a deserted bar and restaurant; as it wasn’t yet open, it also was not revolving. Still, as no one made a move to kick us out, we wandered around the circle on our own, taking photos of the bubbling enclosed fountains and the nighttime view. After leaving the Hyatt, we walked back along the promenade in the dark, enjoying night views of the boats on the river and the changing colors of Cairo Tower. Then we walked across the bridge and back to Zamalek. There we ran into some other ELFs who invited us to join them at an authentic Egyptian restaurant for dinner. I quite liked the food, although I was sad not to be able to eat the pita bread. The service, though, was slow and indifferent.

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Cairo Trip, chapter 2: A first look around Zamalek






When I first arrived at the Hotel Flamenco, I was unable to check in as no room was yet available (It was still only about 7:30 a.m.) I sat around for a while in the lobby before deciding to take a walk around the neighborhood. It was quite a chilly, foggy morning; certainly much colder than summer in Swaziland. I wandered around the block to the road paralleling the river (the Nile!) then walked along admiring the view and enduring the stiff, chilly breeze blowing off the water. Finally, I moved back inland and into the neighborhood, where businesses were starting to open. I stopped in at a barber shop to see about getting a haircut, but the young man opening the shop told me he couldn’t. He seemed to be saying something was “illegal” but I couldn’t tell what – was it too early for the shop to open legally for business or was it illegal for a men’s barber to cut a woman’s hair? Never mind, I was just looking to pass the time (plus, I do seem to have a strange compulsion to get my hair cut at men’s barbershops in developing countries – my own brand of risk-taking, extreme-sport). I continued down the block, appreciating the view of daily morning life on Zamalek. Then I headed back toward the hotel. As I walked past the barbershop on the opposite side of the street, I heard a piercing “Psst” from across the way. There was the young barber, somewhat surreptitiously motioning me back to his shop. What the heck; in I went and got an adequate (meaning I wasn’t butchered) but overpriced (for a barbershop) haircut. Lesson #1: in Cairo, all prices should apparently be negotiated in advance. Or perhaps Lesson #1 was never look at photos on your cab driver’s cell phone, which would make this one Lesson #2... My final act before returning to the hotel was to stop at the McDonalds on the corner (which, as a photo shows, has a whole fleet of delivery mopeds – interesting). There, I bought only bottled water, absolutely nothing else, I swear.

Once back at the hotel, I was able to check into the tiny room that I would soon be sharing with Pamela from Burundi. It was now close to 11 am, so I went down to the restaurant for the end of the free breakfast, which I figured could serve as lunch. Then I returned to the room to try and nap for a few hours. I got up and finally left the room again around 4 pm, which unfortunately was too late to take in any tourist sites. I bought a map at the souvenir shop in the hotel (the front desk should have had some sort of free map, but didn’t) and the helpful girl there recommended I walk down to the opera house or Cairo Tower, both of which are at the opposite end of the island. After walking about half an hour, the rejuvenating effects of my nap had worn off, and I was nowhere near the opera house, so, I decided I would just head back. I also, insanely, decided to cross the street, which took more than a few minutes (several to psych myself up, a few more to find a large enough gap in the never-ending traffic, and a few heart-stopping seconds of tearing across the 6 or so lanes). Apparently I was being watched in this endeavour, as a young man immediately approached me on the other side and asked if I needed help. (Well, yeah, if he could have stopped the traffic, but only the traffic cops hold such powers). I told him I was fine and that I was just out for a walk. At this news, he seemed even more intent on helping me out. He introduced himself as Ahmed and then briskly led me through a nearby gate and into a park of sorts. The next thing I knew, I was being walked around a sandy track, getting in the way of numerous jogger-types in sweatsuits; Ahmed had understood my reference to a “walk” as meaning I wanted to go running (the exact opposite, of course, to what I really wanted to be doing, which was sleeping). We walked along together, attempting to converse in limited English (the only option, of course, as I am totally lacking in Arabic language skills). Ahmed kept trying to find someplace for me to leave my bag, so I would be free to run. I finally managed to convince him that I really did NOT wish to run, at least not on this particular day, as I was tired from travelling. After about 25 minutes on the track (during which time I did enjoy watching a man training a beautiful horse on a long lead – until Ahmed tried to get the fellow to hold my bag ...), we came to a spot where we could exit the park and go back to where Ahmed had left his car (and a patiently waiting passenger, poor guy). Although Ahmed seemed very sweet and helpful, I was still waiting for the sales pitch; surely, he would try to sell me a tour or a trip to his uncle’s carpet shop or SOMETHING. But no – he regretfully told me he had a job driving so he couldn’t take me around although he did tell me what a reasonable price would be to hire a cab out to the pyramids and back. He really was just a sweet young man who wanted to welcome a stranger to Cairo and practice his English a bit. My opinion of Cairo and its people began to rise from that initial low suffered at the hands of airport taxi hawkers.

I walked back to the hotel, largely in the dark, but I still felt safe. Zamalek(actually, all of downtown Cairo) is liberally patrolled by police with big machine-guns; also, there are just lots of people out walking and driving all the time. Not that most of them would necessarily have saved me from an attacking criminal, but crowds do make me feel safer. The view along the Nile at night is beautiful, too.

The attached photos include day and night views along the Nile, the barber who cut my hair and some street scenes. (Unfortunately, I didn't get a photo of Ahmed)