Category: photo

Like my posts of 5.3, 9.2 and 9.24, a picture from a place you’ve heard so much about, but perhaps never seen a picture of, or tried to imagine.

The Suez Canal, like the Straits of Malacca (see post of 9.2), is a great “bottleneck” of global trade, and through it passes approximately 7.5% of the world’s shipped cargo and much of Europe’s oil requirements. The Suez Canal is bigger (in depth and width) than the Panama Canal, and so the latter acts more to set the maximum size for ships–“Panamax.”

Egypt made some $4.1 billion from the Suez Canal tolls in 2007, its third largest source of hard currency after tourism and remittances. Geography matters!

One reads about the “cataracts of the Nile” in history books (always with ordinals, like “the first cataract,” “the second cataract” and so forth), but until I saw the first cataract just south of Aswan it was hard for me to picture them–I thought of something like a series of little Niagaras, walls of water blocking passage north. Now, the first cataract currently lies just on the other side of dams (the old Aswan Dam and the High Dam), and so the sort of rapids or rush of water is no longer there, but seeing the rocks in the water at least helped me visualized what these cataracts are–places that, due to topography, are unnavigable.

One of the wonders, to me, of Egyptian civilization is now much it stayed put along the Nile. There were of course times when Egypt controlled south toward Nubia, west toward Libya and east toward the Levant, but despite its incredible wealth and advancement it was never an expansive empire, instead being controlled by the Persians, the Greeks (or Macedonians), the Romans, the Arabs and the Ottomans. One basic reason for this, I suppose, is that Egyptian civilization was centered on the Nile, and perhaps they saw no reason to stray far from what they saw as the source of all life. In periods of ascendancy Egypt did control regions further south, into Nubia, but the cataracts–areas where the Nile was not navigable–presented a barrier. Were it not for the cataracts, perhaps Egyptian civilization would have traveled all the way to Lakes Tana and Victoria, deep into sub-Saharan Africa.

Ramadan lamp in downtown Cairo

From a traveler’s perspective, one reads, there are good Ramadan countries and bad Ramadan countries. And we were led to expect that Egypt would be one of the greatest, with the streets erupting into all night parties every day as people break their fast. We also thought that, given the volume of tourism in Egypt, we would not actually be forced or feel pressured to fast ourselves. As we’ve discovered, traveling in Egypt in Ramadan has its pluses and minuses.

Ramadan Coca-Cola

Ramadan in Egypt is observed far more strictly than we had thought. We certainly are having no trouble getting food in Luxor, which is a city that exists largely for tourism, but we did have a great deal of trouble finding open restaurants in downtown Cairo, once resorting to the Nile Hilton for lunch. Even McDonald’s and KFC were sometimes closed during the day (including the KFC across the street from the Giza Pyramids). (Compare this to a recent Turkey Ramadan story we heard, where a local McDonald’s was shuttered for privacy and full of Turkish customers, one of whom told the tourist upon friendly questioning that God couldn’t see inside the store.) A lack of restaurants is not only frustrating from a hunger perspective, but of course eating is one of the great joys of travel–eating at hotel or tourist restaurants is generally not as fun, not as tasty and far more expensive. Even where more local restaurants are open, the lack of local clientele makes eating less fun.

So how about the parties every night? That part was pretty much right. Everyone starts cooking starting mid-afternoon (rather early, I think–things must get overcooked; also, are things poorly seasoned because the cooks cannot check for flavor?). Tables are laid out on the streets. Starting about an hour before sunset, people start sitting down and waiting, and starting about twenty minutes before, prepared food is delivered all around town. A few minutes before the muezzin signals the end of the fast, the streets grow eerily quiet as people stop what they’re doing in order to break their fast.

Sunset over the Mediterranean in Alexandria. In some cities, a cannon was sounded to let people know the precise moment at which the sun had set and food could be eaten.

If you’re walking about the streets of Islamic Cairo or less touristy parts elsewhere in the country at this time, it’s quite likely that someone will invite you to their iftar (fast-breaking meal). Or, in many public places such as subway stops, youth will hand out some free beverage or snack (dates are popular) intended to pump some sugar into your blood, a nice custom that we believe is sponsored by local mosques.

Bread deliveries, shortly before sundown

But iftar isn’t about long, lingering meals or happening restaurants–it’s more about eating a lot very quickly. So, unless you’re invited to a fast-breaking meal, it’s unlikely that your dinner will be particularly fun. In fact, dinners were the sources of some of our greatest frustration, as we were often not allowed to order from the special Ramadan menus (which felt to us bizarrely inhospitable–like being refused a Thanksgiving menu because you’re not American or a Christmas set because you’re not Christian).

Eating in the streets

After the meal is when the real fun begins. All of the coffeehouses that were shuttered during the day fill up with customers. Especially in Islamic Cairo, around the touristy Khan Al Khalili, thousands gather for eating, shopping or just hanging about.

In Islamic Cairo

One minor inconvenience of Ramadan is shorter business hours, including at museums and other tourist attractions. We were initially concerned about this, but it ended up not being too big a problem. While the shorter hours mean a little more careful planning, things are generally open long enough–after all, in this heat, one cannot sightsee 8-9 hours straight every day.

Favorite pasttime — reading the Quran

Many countries with a critical mass of tourism, especially in the developing world where the average person may not speak any English, often have separate “tourist police” forces. In every country we had been in, prior to Egypt, the essential functions of tourist police have been to act as English-speaking policemen for whatever visitors may need, to police tourist areas for additional security and peace of mind, to prevent tourists from interacting with “regular” police, who may not speak English or might be incompetent or corrupt, etc. Yes, it’s possible for tourist police to become involved if a tourist commits a crime, but really they’re there to aid tourists. To encourage tourism and tourism receipts.

Not in Egypt. Egypt has a very large “tourism and antiquities” police force, seemingly omnipresent, but they are not the helpful tourist police that travelers may have gotten used to in other countries. Nowhere have we met police, *tourist* police no less, whose job it seems to be not to aid tourists, but to harass them and otherwise get in their way, like the tourist police of Egypt. Even if the primary mission of the Egyptian tourist police is to deter terrorist acts against tourists, which have occurred with some frequency in Egypt [post to come], or there is a special concern in Egypt that tourists themselves may commit crimes (a relic of the days when tourists doubled as antiquities thieves), even then, the Egyptian tourist police should not be so useless to tourists, so negatively harassing.

1. Egyptian tourist police don’t speak English. Given that part of these people’s job description is to interact with tourists, wouldn’t it be useful if they were able to speak to tourists? Even superior officers frequently speak none or only a few words.

2. Egyptian tourist police beg for baksheesh. Now, petty bribery is common in many parts of the developing world, but nowhere have we seen police officers beg for tips. This is common behavior by tourist police at all Egyptian tourist sites. They ask for it in exchange for allowing you to enter restricted areas, for taking photos, for acting as informal guides or for doing nothing at all. Even a policeman guarding a police station asked us for a tip, with four other guards in earshot. Is this really the impression that the Egyptian government wants to give to tourists? That their police officers are beggars?

Acting as an informal guide

3. Egyptian tourist police may steal. I’m almost certain that I had my cell phone stolen during a security check at Philae Temple near Aswan. Most of the time, tourists are simply waved through security checks (perhaps too crude a profiling method), and so I didn’t pay too close attention to the guy going through my bag. Next time I looked–phone gone.

4. Egyptian tourist police are rude. Not only have tourist sites closed early because of Ramadan, but the guards close off sections of sites and try to have you out well in advance of even the early closing time. Given that admissions in Egypt are not cheap (often in excess of USD 10 per person), it is very upsetting, after you’ve paid for your ticket, to learn that much of the site is already closed or to be chased out early. After such an experience at the Egyptian Museum, I refused to leave until the proper Ramadan closing time, at which refusal all sorts of expletives and insults against my country were hurled at me and I was physically handled. Police may have threatened to detain or arrest us in other countries, but never have they stooped to this sort of base hostility, in this case for simply wanting to stay until the designated closing time.

One bizarre incident. We were visiting a small mosque in the “northern cemetery” region of Islamic Cairo. The mosque is famous–on one of the Egyptian bills–and a standard tourist attraction. When we showed up, a keeper of some sort started showing us around, as is usual, in expectation of a tip, or baksheesh. This was fine, especially since the mosque itself didn’t charge any admission. In the middle of our tour, the “guide” was called aside by a tourist policeman who had just entered, and returned to say that we had to leave because of the police. Now, there is no rule in Egypt that tourists cannot visit mosques (they actually make up a fair percentage of the sightseeing in Cairo), and this mosque was one that is quite prominently listed in guidebooks. We were mid-day, at no special time. Annoyed, we finished taking some pictures and exited, giving a few pounds to the custodian/guide at his request. The man then handed the money to the tourist police! You may think that forfeiting the baksheesh could have been some kind of punishment for showing us around, but not if you’ve been to Egypt. The most likely scenario was that the whole “chasing us out” was some sort of setup to encourage more tipping–to make us feel like we saw something that we weren’t “supposed” to see. Derek grabbed our money back.

I did not even know the well-established fact that Art Deco was inspired by (if not outright lifted from) ancient Egyptian art, but even if I did, I think that seeing the extent of the influence would have been astonishing. Staring inside a four thousand year old tomb and having what looks like the facade of a New York skyscraper staring back at you is quite an uncommon deja vu experience.

I don’t keep a list of places I plan to visit before I die, but if I did I imagine the Pyramids of Giza would be on it. And after what happened to me in Cairo (see post of 9.12) perhaps it’s good that I’m making progress on the non-existant list!

Was I inspired? Was I let down? Some mundane thoughts on the Pyramids, compared to what I knew about them before coming to Egypt:

1. You can go inside. They allow tourists to go inside the two bigger of the three main Giza pyramids, albeit for extra fees. Given the somewhat steep charges, the hot and grueling climbs in (as we were told by others) and no availability for the biggest Pyramid of Khufu, we did not go into any of the pyramids at Giza. We did later go into the Red Pyramid of Dahshur (more below) and another, smaller pyramid located in the Saqqara complex. Inside is, as you might expect, a series of shafts and small chambers.

Inside the Red Pyramid

2. You cannot climb up. I had thought that the pyramids were unclimbable because I imagined that the pyramids were smoothly surfaced, covered in bricks cut at the angle of the incline. Actually, those blocks are mostly gone now (except at the top of the second largest pyramid), and so the pyramids are not smooth at all, and the blocks form more/less climbable “steps.” In fact, climbing to the top used to be an essential part of a 19th/early 20th century Pyramids visit–but it is no longer allowed.

Pyramid of Menkaure–note the jagged “steps” at the bottom and the smooth original near top

“Casing stones” remaining near the top of the Pyramid of Menkaure

3. They are about as big as you might imagine. The Sphinx is somewhat smaller than it appears to be in most pictures, but certainly not a letdown. The Pyramids are in fact huge, although their geometric simplicity makes their size hard to grasp from medium range. Seen from downtown Cairo or up close, the Great Pyramid looks every bit of its 140 or so meters height.

From Cairo’s Citadel

4. They were all built in a surprisingly brief historical “window.” The world’s first monumental stone structure, according to the guidebooks, was the Step Pyramid of Saqqara, built by Djoser (2667-2648 BC). His successor Sneferu (2613-2589 BC) followed with the Bent and Red Pyramids of Dahshur, and then came, in direct lineal succession, Khufu (2589-2566 BC), Khafre (2558-2532 BC) and Menkaure (2532-2504 BC). The era of great pyramid building was thus over in six or so generations!

Step Pyramid, Saqqara

Bent Pyramid, Dahshur

Red Pyramid, Dahshur

5. One of the most amazing things to behold at the Pyramids of Giza is not made of stone but of wood. The barge of Khufu, known as the “solar barque,” was buried alongside the Great Pyramid over 4500 years ago, but has been incredibly well-preserved, its size and condition nearly unbelievable. It has been re-assembled and is available for viewing in a custom-built museum on the site of its burial.

At the most basic level, Egyptian history can be divided into three different periods: Pharaonic Egypt (3100-331 BC), the Egypt of the Pyramids, Sphinx and hieroglyphics; Greco-Roman Egypt (331 BC-AD 640), when Egypt was a part of greater Mediterranean Empires; and Arab/Islamic Egypt (AD 640-), after the Arab conquest and the introduction of Islam. Each of these periods has a geographical focal point in the Cairo of today. For the pharaohs, it is Giza, now suburb of Cairo in which the most famous of the Pyramids and the Sphinx reside, not far from the ancient capital of Memphis. The most concentrated reminders of the Roman and Christian eras are in so-called “Old Cairo,” or Coptic Cairo, where numerous churches (and one synagogue) are crammed into a district that was once the site of a Roman fortification called Babylon, with parts of its towers still standing.

But Giza is just a necropolis and Babylon just a fort and cluster of religious sites. Neither was necessarily destined to grow into the great metropolis and center of culture that Cairo is today. However ancient and lasting the pharaonic and Christian legacies are to modern Egypt as a whole, Cairo as Umm ad-Dunya, or Mother of the World, was a creation of the Arab era. This Cairo is best represented by Islamic Cairo, the name given to the medieval eastern half of the modern city.

To give you a sense of the scope of Islamic Cairo, Lonely Planet, not a guidebook known for its erudition or the depth of its recommended sightseeing, suggests three full days of walks in Islamic Cairo alone. Islamic Cairo stretches from the Citadel of Saladin in the south to the northern city walls, a walk of hours. I assumed the architectural legacy that must remain from being an Islamic capital for hundreds of years to be superb, but Cairo has even surpassed my expectations. The sights, sounds and feel of Islamic Cairo rival and in some ways surpass those of Damascus, a city I hold in the highest regard (see post of 4.7).

The chronologically first, and southernmost, site of Islamic Cairo is fittingly close to the Old Cairo of the Copts. The Mosque of Amr ibn al-As, first built in AD 642 just two years after the Arab conquest, began as an encampment, or “Fustat”, of the Arab generals who took Egypt from the Byzantine Empire.

Mosque of Amr ibn al-As. As in Syria, mosques in Egypt are not necessarily grim, austere places but public spaces for even mundane activities, such as napping. The numerous nappers at the Amr ibn al-As Mosque reminded me of the time I saw a movie at a Midtown New York theater during office hours, with what seemed to be a bunch of white collar workers playing hooky.

Mosque of ibn Tulun, founded AD 879. The spiral minaret is intended to resemble the minaret of the nearly contemporary Samarra mosque in now Iraq, whence ibn Tulun came to Egypt as a governor of the Abbasid caliphate. Well into the first several hundred years of Arab rule, much of Egypt remained Egyptian (as opposed to Arab) and Christian. Over time, Arabic linguistic and ethnic identity, along with the Islamic faith, filtered through into the masses. Today, almost everyone in Egypt identifies as an Arab and around 90% are Muslim.

Cairo’s true greatness, however, was sealed in AD 969, when the Ismaili Fatimids founded al-Qahira (“The Conquerer”) as its capital. The Fatimid dynasty (see post of 7.13) did not last long, being crushed by Saladin in the twelfth century, but its foundations form the core of modern Cairo.

The Al Azhar Mosque and University, founded in AD 971, is the oldest and most famous center of Islamic Studies in the world, spreading what is a moderate version of the religion.

Malay student, Al Azhar. While we were at Al Azhar we met students from all over the Islamic world, from Malaysia to Iran to Bosnia.

Saladin’s Citadel, rising above Islamic Cairo

Building on the Fatimid accomplishments was the slave warrior ruling class of the Mamelukes, who founded an empire based in Cairo that ruled much of Egypt and the Levant. The Mamelukes earned their place in history not least for turning back the Mongols and thereby helping to prevent the spread of the Mongol Empire further west. The Mamelukes were overwhelmed by the rise of the Ottoman Empire in the 16th century, but not before building a series of mosques that rival any place of worship in the world for beauty and majesty.

Interiors of Mameluke-era mosques

Although not quite as dazzling as the most beautiful of Damascus’s old houses, several old houses in Islamic Cairo have been refurbished, including Beit al-Khatoun, a house dating to Ottoman times.

The Pyramids are great, yes, but it is Islamic Cairo that drew us back to appreciate its countless monuments, its medieval atmosphere and the friendliness of its residents. In a country infamous for the harassment of tourists [some posts to come], Islamic Cairo offers travelers opportunities to experience a semblance of authentic Egyptian life and genuine hospitality–friendly curiosity and conversation not always motivated by profit. So come for the Pyramids–most people do. Even feel free to “hate Cairo,” as more than one traveler we met exclaimed–but don’t do it before spending at least a day wandering Islamic Cairo.

Outside the walls of the Al Azhar

Along Al-Muizz Li-Din Allah Street, Islamic Cairo

Market Street, Islamic Cairo