Brendan Doms

My last night in town I went to a sports bar called Lithos that had live music. Turns out “sports” just means different games of soccer. But the music was entertaining, even just in its form: one man playing a metallic pan flute and one woman playing an electric violin, with a synthesizer doing an automatic bass beat. This place also said it had the “best BBQ ribs in town” and I put them to the test. They were amazing, with something like a light honey-teryaki sauce on meat that was basically falling off the bones. I had a local beer to drink with dinner, called Keo (a light lager), and finished with a local spirit, called Zivania (something between vodka and ouzo). I wouldn’t order either again.

I also found out from the proprieter that there was a girl my age from Minnesota staying in the room next to mine for one of the nights I was there. But I never spoke to anyone who met that description, so we totally missed each other.

There was a moment that I sadly didn’t have my camera for where the moon was casting a silvery reflection on the inky-black waters of the Mediterranean. I felt like I had seen it before, but maybe just somewhere in my imagination. I felt like I was seeing the same image that the ancient Greeks must have. It was spellbinding.

Cyprus is awesome. Getting here may have been a little rough, but after only an hour or two I have fallen in love with Oroklini, the sleepy residential village I’m staying in just outside of Larnaca. It’s so relaxed - lazy even. The sun is very hot, but not as bad as Egypt, and there is a perpetual breeze. White fluffy clouds contrast against the ocean; it’s incredibly picturesque. The streets are clean, everything looks like it’s in good repair. Though I have traded prayers from a loudspeaker for a rooster that crows when the sun comes up. The people are very friendly and eager to please, though there don’t seem to be very many of them. I feel alone, but in the best way possible. If you ever just wanted to come somewhere to hang out by the beach or pool and let all of your stress dissipate a little bit away from civilization, this is the place.

Plus, the flowers are beautiful.

Cyprus Air delayed my flight by 13 hours and didn’t email me or update their online system. I only found out when I got to the airport and wandered around for an hour trying to find their kiosk to check into. Eventually I talked to somebody who knew what was going on and checked the flight info with the airport. He gave me the bad news: not a single person from Cyprus Air was in the airport, because they only arrive like 4 hours before a flight, and I was over 12 hours away.

It’s probably the most ridiculous delay I’ve ever had. So I’ve been sitting in an airport all day, instead of hanging out on a beach. I’m pretty angry, and recommend to all of you to avoid two things: Cyprus Air and the Cairo airport. Both suck.

The silver lining is that the end result of a day in the airport or a day on the beach are similar in one respect: I need to get more books onto the Kindle even though whispernet doesn’t work in this hemisphere.

You are from America? Welcome to Alaska!

Random Egyptian guy on the street of Cairo, on a 100 degree day.

Here are a few more cultural differences I wanted to touch on that didn’t make it in last time.

First, it seems like there’s never enough small bills and change. Everyone rounds to the nearest 50 pasteres (that’s like their cents), and some places will not even make change for you if the difference seems negligable enough: “This water is 3 LE. Oh you have 5? Ok, that works too.” There was one official government gardens here in Cairo that cost 5 LE just to get into and walk around, but my smallest bill was a 20, and they literally did not have the change for it. I just don’t think that really happens to me in America, besides maybe not having a penny or two.

Speaking of the government, as I mentioned previously, there are police everywhere. The ones in white uniforms are either traffic police, or tourist/antiquities police, ensuring that no one does any grave robbing. The police in black uniforms appear to be national police, and are seen in front of government buildings and embassies. While some of them go unarmed, a lot also have some firepower. A majority of the white uniforms carry AK-47’s and a minority carry MP5’s. For what they do, this seems totally overboard. The black uniforms have much more diversity: I’ve seen them weilding 9mm pistols, pump-action shotguns, and even one with a Sten gun. It’s a little intimidating.

However, their security on the whole is very lax. There are metal detectors everywhere: places like museums, hotels, and banks have them just to get in the front door. The funny part though, is that with the single exception of the Egyptian Museum in Cairo (they really don’t want people taking pictures in there), I have just been waved through even when my camera or phone sets it off. Most of the time the guards seem like they just don’t care and would rather some metal get inside the building than have to get up out of their chair.

Coming into the country was also interesting, as they did screenings for fever with a camera that had an IR filter. I presumed this was for swine flu, as the only reported cases of it in Egypt have been foreigners (including a couple students at the American University in Cairo, which, by the way, is very conveniently located downtown). I later met an American woman at my hostel who was sent by the CDC to investigate. I guess a public health major could lead to some interesting jobs…

Oh yeah, and KFC is way more popular here than it has any right to be.

The Mediterranean Sea at Alexandria.

A brisk breeze blows directly into my face, bringing with it that distinctive and familiar sea-salt smell. I am talking in broken half-French and half-English with Ann, one of the two French-Canadians I met at the Ramses train station in Cairo. She and her friend have been traveling around the entire world since last September and are just now starting their trek back home. 8 months of hostels and trains and planes and buses? The thought is staggering.

She says that English is the international tourism language, and since she only had an academic understanding of it before leaving Quebec, her skills have much improved. The French even go so far as to respond to her foreign dialect in English.

I ask her a few questions about her travels, trying to get a quick summary of what things are like around the globe:

• Best food? Thailand.
• Biggest surprise? No one in Turkey knows English.
• What weren’t you prepared for? Winter in China.
• Worst weather? Upper Egypt (about 1000 km south of Cairo).
• Best SCUBA diving? The Red Sea.

We are walking toward the water, on a major thoroughfare full of shops. After a few minutes she turns to me and says, “I am glad you are here. Being just a group of girls in Egypt is very hard. If you are not with a man, you get harassed all the time. It is like all the men think they can sleep with a white girl whenever they want.” I nod, but her comment has left a bad taste in my mouth.

We finally can see the water, and it is dazzling. The weather in Alexandria is a huge improvement over Cairo, being a lot farther North and on the Mediterranean. Its bay is shaped like a crescent, a fitting symbol.

We part ways, she to her hotel and me to explore the city. And I am hit with my biggest disappointment of the trip so far: it is Friday, the holy day of the Muslim week, so the Library at Alexandria, which was the main attraction I came to see, is closed. I content myself with wandering around the city.

There are far fewer tourists in Alexandria, and the people there are more just living life rather than trying to squeeze pennies out of tourists. I barely got noticed at all. This combined with the better weather makes me appreciate the city a lot.

The real memorable thing for me was the train ride back and forth. It is what convinced me that Egypt is very much still a third-world country, in need of some change. In the small villages between cities there is trash everywhere. Buildings that are obviously habited are falling apart. No roads are paved. It’s like somebody was building up some ifrastructure, and then at some point (30 years ago? 50?) the work just stopped. And so did repairs, and painting, and all other manner of upkeep. I don’t really know what happened, but some external force will be required to get the country back into shape.

Egyptians are very friendly people, with a good sense of humor. And one of the funniest parts of my days here has consistently been hearing people’s reactions to the fact that I’m an American. After Obama’s speech here last week, Egyptians are very pro-America. They already saw us as a good source of money through tourism, and now they think that we can help them create a better (i.e. less corrupt) democracy, and perhaps even something like a “United Arab States” - a pipedream political and economic entity mirroring the EU, but for Arabic nations.

Some of the better responses I’ve gotten when I’ve told Egyptians that I’m American:

“Mr. Obama is the man!”
“American? So you know Mr. Obama? You shake his hand? I want to shake his hand.”
“Are you Egyptian? No, American? Ah, no wonder I thought you Egyptian. We are brothers!”
“Welcome, welcome, welcome. We love America!”

The currency of the Egyptian Pound (abbreviated LE after something French) is extremely weak to the dollar: roughly 5.5 to 1. This makes it very cheap to sleep and eat, though the tourist attractions have their prices inflated (which makes the locals angry, as it is very expensive for them to see their own sites).

The Cairo subway is amazing: just 1 pound to go anywhere. Definitely the best method of transportation around the city.

The downside to being a tourist is that especially around the tourist sites, there is a lot of harassment. I’ve never felt threatened physically, or even felt in danger of a pick-pocket, but there are hustlers galore. They offer you something by saying, “this is a gift” or “this is free, no money” or “for good luck” and shove some worthless trinket into your hand. Then they offer to take a picture of you and when it’s all done they ask for money. Preferably USD or Euros. Despite seeming friendly at first, I’ve found it best not to acknowledge these people (or even let them know that you speak English).

Finally, there are some cultural differences I had to get used to. The biggest is gender roles. While our tour guide said that Egypt is very progressive for a Muslim country - the women are not required to wear hijab and the sale of alcohol is permitted - there were a few things I had to get used to. In taxis, men sit up front with the driver, while women must be in the back. On the subway, there are cars that are designated for women only, where men cannot enter. Cafes and shops are also segregated by gender (i.e. there are no stores that sell both male and female clothing). This is an abrupt change for me, as the most separation I’m used to in the US is really just bathrooms. But, it also means that it not uncommon to see men going arm in arm with each other or for women to be holding hands together in the street, just as friends.

And while the Egyptians themselves don’t typically drink alcohol, they do smoke. A whole lot. Shops where the entire point is to smoke hookah are very popular. A game of dominos usually accompanies this. For a place that is already so hot and dehydrated (I’ve been consuming 6+ liters of water daily), I can’t imagine wanting to smoke.

The Nile, with Cairo spreed across it.

Most Egyptian culture and civilization centers around the Nile. It’s banks are lush and green, while just a mile or two away from it the desert is completely barren.

Around Cairo, the Nile is the best real estate. But strangely, while there are some hotels and restaurants, the bulk of buildings lining the river are the embassies to other nations. It’s like Egypt is trying to make sure that the foreigners are constantly seeing the best part, at the expense of a huge loss in revenue from taxes on those properties.

Outside of Cairo, in the small villages, life and the use of the Nile both change drastically. Instead of a nice piece of scenery, the river becomes the main source of irregation for farming many crops, which is how the majority of people outside of the cities still make their money (instead of on tourism or service). Bizarrely, one side of the river (or its canals or tributaries) is often thriving with plants, while the other is a dump for trash. The river is horribly polluted, which seems incredibly counter-intuitive to me. If you’re farming and drinking and bathing in this water, wouldn’t you want it to be clean?

Among the foods grown close to the Nile, the most important is perhaps the tall date trees, which are essentially palm trees with large clusters of fruit hanging from the top. This is for religious significance, as I’m told that the first food ingested to break the fast during Ramadan is the date.

Village life itself seems still very much like an old-fashioned farming culture: sheep, goats, donkeys, horses, and cattle take up as much of the roadway as cars. Families are judged based on the amount of land they own, and deals (as in, for a wife) are made by bartering animals, land, and pure gold.

The last piece I’ll share about Egyptian culture that affects the villagers along the Nile is the compulsory military service. The amount of years you serve is inversely proportional to how many years of primary school is completed. Do only 1 year of school (the minimum) and then 3 in the military, 2 in school and 2 in the military, or 3 in school (the maximum) and 1 in the military. It sounds like the middle option of 2 and 2 is the most common. I guess part of it depends on how much you like hanging around home and helping with the farming while you attend school.