Tombs, Touts and Art School

There are a few more stories to tell from this trip. I've been back in the US for more than 2 weeks and have even taken another trip in between. All that travel finally overwhelmed my immune system and I'm battling a sinus infection and a cold. Here are a few more stories. Keep reading the blog. I'll let you know when the last "bag" appears on the conveyor belt.

On our last full day in Luxor, Thursday 2 July, Mamdouth arrived at 9 AM to take us to the Valley of the Kings. We knew we'd be out late with AbdulMawgoud the night before, so we didn't start at a more comfortably temperate 7 AM. The tout situation at the Valley of the Kings is as bad as at the pyramids, but it does not diminish the value of seeing the kings' tombs. The peddler problem, however, is tedious and we became progressively more critical of the government's allowing of it. We don't blame the vendors/beggars because it is their only way of surviving, so we play along with the best humor we can maintain.

AbdulMawgoud had relayed a recent statistic, that this summer's tourism on a scale of 1-10 is at minus 3. That means each tourist has to generate income normally generated by 3. The Egyptians really hustle, but they have a sense of pride and are aware of our wealth vs their vulnerability. Walking down to the public ferry after midnight for a 2 EP ride, a private motor boat driver appealed to us to take his boat for 5 EP (less than $1). It wasn't an unreasonable offer. The ferry is probably a government run enterprise, and the boatman needs to make a living too. As Jim said, however, getting into some one's boat after midnight to cross the Nile in the dark might cost a lot more than 5 EP -- remember the total cost of our carriage ride with "Jusef"! :-) More than once, when we have rejected their appeals with a slight edge of irritation, saying "laa, laa, laa (no, no, no)", they chide us..."one no is enough". We have carefully tried to respond to their plight with dignity. Imagine how we look walking around their town, blending with few other tourists , tall white people in clean, Western clothing, one carrying a huge orange purse they just know is full of money! We are well qualified prospects.

Back to the Valley of the Kings. The desert valley is barren without a single stem of plant life in the ochre sand. It is orders of magnitude more desolately barren than the Sonoran Desert with its blooming cacti, in Arizona where my mother grew up. The Egyptian royal tombs are open on a rotating basis to preserve them from the sweat and breath of visitors. We entered four of them, numbered in order of their discovery: Rameses 14 - tomb 2, ThutmoseIII - tomb 34, Horemheb - tomb 57, and Tutankamun, tomb 62. They are breathtaking, well preserved, and richly and densely covered with illustrations of The Book of the Dead, and other texts, in situ right before our eyes! King Tut's bones, sans mummy swaddling, were on view in his tomb -- getting ready, we were told, to leave soon for a road show. One beauty of traveling off-season is the lack of crowds. Those tombs would be stiflingly claustrophobic if loaded with tourists. Instead, we had the hot dry heat. To get to Tuthmose III's tomb we had to climb stairs and walk down into the tomb, which was humid and hot. Emerging back up out of the tomb, glazed in sweat, we actually felt cool(er) in the 100-degree breeze.

Those four tombs, in that weather, sated our curiosity, although the valleys of the queens and workers are also supposed to be worth the trip. Mamdouth has a friend who works at the alabaster factories along the road to the antiquities. Playing the commission pyramid scheme game, we insisted we stop at the appropriate shop. After much haggling, we bought a large alabaster bowl that we hoped would fit in the overhead compartments of our multiple upcoming plane trips. After a perfect lunch of ripe tomatoes, cucumbers, Feta cheese and the other half of our watermelon at the hotel, we napped in the AC to ride the afternoon out.

That evening, AbdulMawgoud took us to visit the Luxor Fine Arts College. His daughter, Taqwa, was with us as translator, although most all young Egyptians I've encountered speak passable English, to my non-existent Arabic. The school felt like all art schools, although Cal OSHA (Occupational Safety Health Admin) would have shut the place down -- little ventilation, lots of solvent fumes. We arrived around 7:30 pm. It was still hot, and everyone was cramming to finish work for grading in 2 days. This was my only chance the entire trip to engage with artists, and I loved touring the school, especially when it was such a pulsing hive of activity. Their work was similar to undergrad work at SJSU, and their canteen had the same food -- soda and junk food.

We then went to dinner at an unfortunately turistic restaurant on the Nile with AbdulMawgoud and his daughters. It sounded like a good idea to sit outside, but it was hot and the idling floating hotel cruise ships tied on the quay spewed diesel fumes into the air. We paid US prices for mediocre food. But the company was perfect.

Abrar gave us a poignant account of her experience of September 11, 2001. She was a hijab-wearing (muhajaba) 8th grader who lost her sense of security along with the rest of the US. The entire experience in Pittsburgh terrified her -- because the plane that crashed in Shanksville, PA was quiet close, and for some time there was fear of another headed their way. In one definitive disaster, Abrar went from a happy-go-lucky native born normal American kid to an Arab-American, to whom people, including friends, were unfriendly and cruel, for reasons she didn't understand. Until that point, she had not seen herself as any different. After 9/11, she had to learn about her ancestral culture so that she could defend herself against some disgusting discrimination.

AbdulMawgoud and his family will be returning to Minnesota in August. The girls, Taqwa and Abrar, and Jim and I are lobbying for their whole family to take a road trip to California for Christmas. Insha'Allah.