Jen McConnel's Blog, page 61
July 29, 2012
Travel Writing: Egypt, part 3
As the election year in Egypt circles closer to a change of power, I can’t help but wonder if the disenfranchised adults have finally found a path that will serve them.
While traveling to Aswan from Luxor on Christmas Day, I began to understand first hand the arguments that protesters have made global in the past years. Mahmud, the guide our hotel had hired for us, is a brilliant young man we had the pleasure of viewing Karnak Temple with, so we were looking forward to the long drive to Aswan under his tutelage. After prompting, he outlined the process it took for him to become a certified guide: four years of intensive study followed by an exam administered by the Department of Antiquities. While he seemed to take great relish telling the more scandalous ancient stories to tourists, Mahmud really didn’t seem to be in the business out of passion.
Even with the steady hours and professional salary, he is really frustrated with the direction his life is taking. He can’t afford a car, which he would really like, because the idea of taking a bank loan simply isn’t a part of his culture. (When pressed, he did admit that this was a course some people took, but the prevailing attitude is to do it on your own, so I don’t think he’ll be getting a loan any time soon.) More than a car, however, he wants a wife: he seemed to feel like he won’t really be an adult until he can afford to provide for a wife and a family. He’s 25, two years younger than me, and has been working to build his own home in Luxor for years: but it’s still not enough.
I had never thought before what it would feel like to live in a society that demanded certain actions from me before I would be considered an adult, and at the same time, be unable to take those actions because of my society. Mahmud is a devout Muslim, and very matter-of-factly told me that he’d really like to have a relationship with a woman, but for him, his option is to marry…or nothing. He’s not culturally permitted to date, but he is culturally expected to marry and have a big family that he can support. However, even after years of study and employment in the largest industry in Egypt, he’s no closer to this goal now than he was four years ago.
No wonder there is such frustration fueling the situation in North Africa and the Middle East!
July 28, 2012
Travel Writing: Egypt, Part 2
In which I learn a lesson in baksheesh, and the nice men with guns provide me with a story to terrorize my mother with for years to come.
After arriving in Luxor the morning after two continuous days of travel, I expected to collapse into a heap for most of that first day. However, as is often the case with me, once we had checked in to our hotel and dropped our bags, I was revived and ready to conquer the city. We arranged to join a group that afternoon for a tour of Karnak and Luxor temples, but in the meantime, we set off in search of the local museum.
Due to a mislabeled map, we easily found the post office but realized we had gone the opposite direction of the museum. The smells and sights of the town were overwhelming, as were the constant offers of “taxi? boat? scarab?”, but we eventually made our way along the Nile to discover the under-rated Luxor Museum. After some confusion at the ticket gate (we only had large bills, and a guard had to make change for us out of his pocket), we crossed through beeping metal detectors (no one stopped us, now or ever on the trip, and I wonder how much of the security is just for form) and into the peaceful world of the museum.
I hadn’t expected such an extensive collection: I though everything worth seeing was housed in the jumbled collection in Cairo, but we happily passed an hour exploring the well designed museum. It was a good introduction to the land we were about to explore, and a cool and peaceful way to find our bearings.
We returned to the Nefertiti Hotel in time for a short afternoon nap, and set out for Karnak Temple feeling refreshed.
The temple of Karnak is tremendous, having been added on to by twelve dynasties worth of Egyptian leaders. I was not prepared for the dramatic scale or the labyrinthine design once we passed the initial courtyard. I believe this temple was the largest that we saw on the trip, and I spent a good deal of time craning my neck at all angles to see EVERYTHING.
Luxor temple, which used to connect to Karnak with a partially existing avenue of sphinxes that the government evidently wants to restore, was also epic in size. While we wandered around, a guard motioned us to follow him into the area labeled “no entry”, and he excitedly pointed out the beautiful back view of the temple under the setting sun. We dutifully took pictures when he told us to, even posing with him when another guard came along.
This became our first lesson in baksheesh, or tipping. The friendly guard, with his semi automatic strapped to his back, demanded in gestures that we pay up for the experience we had just had. We gave him our last two coins, having no small bills at this point, and there was a tense moment when he asked for more. Convinced that we didn’t have any more, he graciously allowed us to return to the well lit and highly populated areas of the temple, which we exited in a nervous rush.
July 27, 2012
Travel Writing: Egypt
Our conductor on the night train to Luxor.
The first story I want to share is of our first, hectic night. After arriving at the Cairo airport, purchasing visas, and shuffling through security, we were picked up by someone connected with our hotel in Luxor. At least, that’s what we thought: an hour in to the car ride from the airport to the train station, he told us that he was doing a favor for a friend. Presumably, the friend is who was paid to pick us up, and we needed to meet him in Cairo to pick up the train tickets. “No problem, no problem?”Right. (This is also about the point in the drive when he explained to us that the white lines on the road are just for decoration.)
Picking up the train tickets involved circling a block twice (after the driver got into an argument with a street policeman about something), a man running out to the car, lots of money changing hands, and me being handed a train ticket that listed our nationality as “Australian”. We were a wee bit nervous, but we boarded the train with no problem and found that our cabin was spacious, private, and comfortable.
And then there was the conductor, Robbie (I don’t think that was his name, but it’s what it sounded like). Matt describes him as a Puck figure, and he certainly was impish and playful. The man danced up the train aisles, singing and wiggling while pushing the breakfast cart. He also started the journey for the writer in me. He came in with dinner when I was writing in my travel journal, and he looked at me and said, “you will write your story here in Egypt.”
I think he was right.
July 26, 2012
New Space, Old Face
Welcome! Some of you may have been following me over at displacedyankeeinnc.blogspot.com, and some of you may have just stumbled upon this site. To the old followers, don’t worry: I’ll still be blogging at displacedyankee about my adventures in YA publishing. But I decided to create this space for my spiritual writing and adult fiction. So if you like magic, historical fiction, and mythology, stay tuned for more!
