Inter-Planetary Camping - Part Two

Badry’s Sahara Camp is a delightful collection of cement and straw huts lining a central lattice-covered walkway filled with tables and chairs. We were shown our huts and after thoroughly exploring the 8’x8’ room, replete with built-in concrete twin “beds” covered with thin mattresses and some blankets, we stored our stuff and met out at one of the tables where we were offered tea.


We relaxed a little, further exploring the campground area which included a large straw-covered hut with blankets, benches and chairs, a small kitchen, 20 or so of the double sleeping huts, electricity (yeah!) and a pink-tiled bathroom with two showers, sinks and four stalls with real toilets! I was delighted.


We had the whole afternoon to pass as our plan was to stay at the campground for one night, then head out into the desert the next night (with Badry’s guides). To pass the time, Khalid offered to give us a tour of the Bahariya area. So we started at the low-lying marshes lush with greenery and lakes.


Then we headed up and over huge sand dunes which presented us with our first chance at “off-roading.” Ben had offered to drive his new Nissan Xterra for our outing, however at this point I think he started to regret this. If it wasn’t at this point, it was certainly the following day when we spent the better part of an hour digging his car out of the encroaching sand. But for now, Khalid, our guide, did his best to demonstrate the best method for sand-duneing – just gun the engine and have faith in God.

We were lacking initially in both so it took a few attempts for us to actually ascend the hill. It was not the last time I would feel as if I were heading up at a 90-degree angle while praying that we’d be in a hip and exciting Xterra commercial and not end up in a what-not-to-do DMV video. We did actually take a moment at one point and review the car manual in case it had anything of interest noted under “Driving up sand dunes.” Despite his initial hesitation Ben got the gist of it and there was no stopping him from this point forward (or rather, he was able to suppress his inner “we’re all going to die” and “I hate this guy” (referring to our guide) thoughts and just floor the accelerator).


At the top of one hill Khalid offered to take us in pairs in his car so we could get the true feel of off-roading. Ben and Jim went first and Ron and I stood on the hill and watched them zip down the hill, spin around, then careen up the hill at such a rate of speed they actually went airborne as they hit the crest. It looked great! So then it was our turn. Ron sat in the front and I climbed in back. No seatbelts (there were barely doors) so we just grabbed whatever we could that we felt might have been welded to the frame and held on. We flew down the hill with the windows open and the wind tearing through; we came to the bottom of the hill, spun around and without hesitation we zoomed back up the hill, leaning far back into the seat as the angle of ascent increased dramatically and then, without warning, we were airborne, then suddenly landborne and with howls of extreme delight we spun around to face our starting point, which managed to create a great wave of sand that crashed in on us in all our open-mouthed joy. Great fun and I have the sand-blasted teeth to prove it.


We continued our exploring, clamoring up various mini-mountains to gaze at the oasis all around us. We stopped by two natural hot springs (which were really hot to the touch – at least the first one was as I didn’t get too near the second one which was being used as a bathing locale for some men, so I hung back near the car and studied the pretty flowers). (Be sure to look for the small people and cars in some of these photos. Gives a better sense for the enormity of scale.)




We also wandered past a gaggle of camels during feeding time so I got my first chance at taking lots of camel photos. I have this continuing desire to smooch some camel lips, however Ron cannot fathom my interest and thwarts my every attempt, so I was only allowed to photograph and could not get within hugging-distance. (Don’t they have the most kissable lips?)




We made it back to camp at which point Khalid offered to take us up one more hill to watch the sunset (the photo below is Khalid on his beloved truck). We all squashed in his truck and had another exciting, almost-tipping-over ride up the mountain behind the campground. We gazed at the sunset over the oasis; watching quietly as it slowly dipped below the horizon. Then for our final terrifying ride down the mountain for today, Ron decided to videotape our descent from the view of the front seat. I’m sure the audio will be a garbled mass of laughter and screaming and I can only imagine that the video itself could induce seizures (we have yet to re-watch it).


Our evening included dinner and relaxing under the stars. It was wonderfully quiet with the silence broken occasionally by a cricket or tree frog, or braying donkey or far-distant car horn (though who anyone would be honking at escaped me – I think honking is as natural to Egyptians as breathing). We finally retired to our Snow White huts and I would have slept wonderfully had it not been for the oppressive heat and biting bugs. Apparently Ben and I were the only ones to notice this, so at least Ron and Jim slept soundly. I never thought to bring any bug-spray as there just really aren’t annoying bugs in Cairo (they find it too crowded, I’m sure), so I spent the night trying to convince myself it wasn’t stifling and the buzzing insects were white noise, or wandering around the campground staring up at the stars because at least there was a breeze outside. Oh well, I was sure I’d sleep better tomorrow night under the stars out in the White Desert.

Inter-Planetary Camping - Part One

I have divided up our White Desert camping tale into multiple parts. Even though it was less than 72 hours in total, our experiences fill volumes. Enjoy!

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Camping. The smell of the woods on a crisp Fall day, the sound of the fire crackling, the hoot of owls and rustle of critters in the undergrowth. These are the images many of us grew up with.

Now wipe that from your mind and imagine sleeping under more stars than you’ve ever seen before, watching the Milky Way creep across the sky, digging your car out of sand dunes the size of small mountains, staring at terrain you’ve only seen in Star Wars films and yelling at the desert foxes as they try to snag your camping pillow. Now that’s White Desert camping!

At the end of May, just as the heat was settling in over Cairo four of us, myself, Ron, Ben and Jim, set out on a weekend adventure like no other. Jim had done this before, but for the rest of us it was an initiation into the closest thing we’ll experience to a moon walk.

I had made lots of calls and sent tons of emails in the weeks prior trying to arrange a guide and equipment and everything, but in the end we opted to throw caution to the wind and follow Jim’s advice and just head out to Badry’s Sahara Camp (which is where he had stayed before).

Once we found the Cairo-Bahariya Road (which took a little doing), we followed it parallel to the railroad tracks and headed out far beyond any future settlements of the Cairo sprawl. For most of the four-hour drive the 2-4 lane road was ours, with only the occasional car or truck sharing the desolate (and sometimes amusing) scenery.


We stopped at the first (and only) rest stop and gas station. Had there been more buildings, it could have passed for a ghost town, but as it was, it was just some ramshackle buildings offering bathrooms (though after looking around I opted not to partake in them, which became a theme of mine during the weekend), some snacks and a gas station. The latter was a great example of non-capitalism in that we were told we had to wait to gas up until after the employees finished lunch. So we sat in the car while they relaxed in the office and watched us.

We eventually gassed up and drove on and after dozing for a while Ron woke up and looking out the window commented sleepily, “Well, it’s less boring now.” And he was right. The bland flat desert landscape had changed to include hills and small sand-mountains. But despite my hope for a glimpse of desert wildlife I saw nothing but sand and plant life with a strong will to live.

Suddenly, with such a drastic delineation you could draw a line in the sand, the scenery changed to lush tropical trees and blooming bushes lining the paved road. We had obviously arrived in the Bahariya Oasis. While it wasn’t quite as dramatic as those crisp blue lakes surrounded by towering palms that you see in the movies, it was a beautiful change. Following the road we soon found ourselves in the semi-bustling town of Bawiti. At the arched entryway to the town, we informed the Desert Police that we were going to be staying at Badry’s, whom we had called a few hours earlier to confirm he had space (he did). They checked our Dip cards and allowed us to proceed. We didn’t know it at this point, but having us in their town caused quite a ripple of potential Presidential worry. We found out later that before the dust from our wheels had settled, they were calling Badry to let him know we’d arrived. We did the same soon after, as the plan was to grab some lunch in town, then follow his guys back to the camp.

Our dining options in Bawiti, according to the guidebooks, came down to three choices. We drove by all three (the town is primarily comprised of a main street, with smaller offshoots), and chose Cleopatra. They seemed delighted to have us, considering we were their only customers. We chose a relatively clean table outside in the shade. We didn’t order anything other than water and sodas, he just brought us food. I partook of the salad bits and bread, while the boys also enjoyed chicken bits and some beans (I knew from the get-go this wasn’t going to be a trip of culinary delights for me, and considering my primary concern was the availability and quality of my bathroom options, I was fine with eating light). One thing we did learn from this experience is that it never hurts to bring your own silverware. While some may find the excitement of finding leftover chunks of previous diners’ meals enticing and flavorful, we all opted to chip them off as best we could.


We relaxed after eating, enjoyed the breeze and waited for Badry’s guys to meet us and lead us back to camp. They arrived soon after, and we caravanned it to the site of our first night in the Bahariya Oasis.

The “D” Word Exposed

Living in a foreign country can have varying affects on you. Adjusting to new customs, new weather, new language, new food, all takes its toll. Sometimes the latter, the gastronomic affects, can be some of the hardest adjustments to make, and it’s not just making sure there’s no pigeon in your soup.

Initally when I thought of the “D” word I thought it was fairly straight-forward in terms of Cairo. But then, thinking further, I realized that Dust, Dirt, Debris, Decibles, Desert, Donkey, Deafening, and Driving, could all apply. So let me just spell it out for you: D-I-A-R-R-H-E-A.

Since moving to Cairo, the number of diarrhea discussions I’ve been privy to has skyrocketed. Prior to Cairo, diarrhea was probably not in the top 10,000 topic-list, unless it was cat diarrhea (which might have made the top 9,000 topic-list). Unfortunately, here in Cairo it’s a fact of life.

Luckily it’s not a constant or chronic one, but anytime a bunch of dips go out to eat you can hear a hushed gasp or see physical flinching when someone’s glass comes with ice in it. We’re told to avoid anything to do with non-bottled water, which includes ice cubes. When my mother was here in the 1980s she was also told not to even brush her teeth with the tap water. Because our house water is filtered we feel safe cooking and cleaning with it, however drinking water we purchase and I’ve recently even moved the cats onto bottled water (Dip cats indeed!). In addition to shunning the poor icecube, we’ve all mastered the casual inspection of one’s silverware, plates and glassware prior to use.

We recently ate lunch at a small restaurant out in Bahariya when we went camping in the White Desert (which remains on my list of “Bloggable Items”) and our silverware came with some chunks already on it. We all discretely tried to chip away at them and did our best to not touch our lips or teeth to the actual implement (the skills one acquires as a dip never fail to amaze/amuse me). I have subsequently purchased camping silverware that we can carry with us for future similar expeditions.

Ron kind of summed up the diarrhea issue when we had a houseguest and he said, “It’s just diarrhea. You’re among friends.” Sadly that’s what Cairo brings you to – breaking down the diarrhea-discussion barrier. Luckily, in addition to discussing it, we also have some great local pharmaceutical remedies that we all have on hand in every bathroom. So, while this D-word is probably not something worthy of a license plate or t-shirt, and I don’t expect to see it on the Egyptian Chamber of Commerce logo, it definitely takes its place among the Top Ten D-Word Dip Discussions. Now, who’s our next houseguest?

Monasteries, Mummies (& Tatooine?)

A few months ago I felt that we were due for an adventure, so I convinced Ron and Ben to take a day trip out to the monasteries of Wadi Natrun.

For most journeys, getting out of Cairo is typically the most difficult part, basically because once you get out of Cairo there is only one road in whatever direction you’re heading… in theory, that is. We decided to start things off wrong right from the get-go and managed to take the wrong bridge out of Zamalek, getting completely turned around in the Dokki area (we think). We did some loops and made it back to Zamalek, took the right bridge out, drove 20 minutes, missed the turn off for our road (the sign was a mile before the turn), drove another 10 minutes before we could turn around, missed the turn off again (just morons this time), and had to drive 20 minutes back to Cairo before we could turn around again. By this point we decided to stop for gas, traveling for over an hour and yet being only a mere few miles from home. But daunted we were not! During our gas lay-over we saw a horse-n-cart gassing up at the pumps – not a common sight, but I guess moreso when you consider it was a benzine cart. (Photo credit goes to Ben.)

Second attempt, or was it third, we managed to take the correct exit and headed out into the desert on the Alexandria-Desert Road. As you leave Cairo, the sights become less exciting and you rely more on the wacky cars and trucks for visual amusement. One thing we did note was the proliferation of walls in the desert. Just plots of land, often with no more than two or three sides of a wall delineating the property line. Sometimes just a gateway stood in the dirt. Future markers for the next round of villas and highrises as Cairo continues to overflow.


The Wadi Natrun area is about 60 miles northwest of Cairo. Its oldest historical significance comes from the mineral deposits found on the saline lakes in the area. In ancient Pharaonic times the natrun found here was used for many household needs, including mummification (it’s always so hard to find a good mummifier, isn’t it?), as it would draw out the moisture from the body and act as a drying agent.

Then, during the Roman persecutions of the 4th century, many Christians retreated to the Wadi Natrun area and hid in the caves. Over the years hundreds of thousands of people sought refuge here and they built up over 60 monasteries in the area. Many believe that this marks the beginning of Christian monasticism. (As a side note, Islam was brought to Egypt with the Arab conquest in 641 AD.) Today only four monasteries dating back to the 4th century survive (all having been rebuilt at least once, with the oldest structures currently dating to the 8th century): Monastery of St. Bishoi, Monastery of the Syrians, Monastery of the Virgin of Baramus, and Monastery of St. Macarius. All remain active and all can be visited, however please note for planning purposes, visits to the Monastery of St. Macarius must be arranged in advance.

The not-so-exciting scenery did end when we finally reached the small town/village/area of Bir Hooker. Actually, they had one of the nicest rest stops I’ve ever seen in Egypt – pure Americana, repleate with playground area. We stopped for a break and discussed whether we knew where to go from here. The guidebooks were a little fuzzy, “Turn left at Bir Hooker.” Which would have been fine had it been a one-station stop, but it was fairly built up and the road had a nice wide median preventing us from turning left at all. I begged the boys to ask for directions (two geniuses willing to wander for days in lieu of asking for directions) and they did, and much to Ben’s delight (so he could continue to mutter “I told you so”) we got multiple variations of no directions. So we opted for continue driving until we could turn around.


We did this and by pure luck there was a sign (but only for those coming from the north). We turned onto a road that led through a very small village (passing tuk-tuks and locals) back into the desert where Ron noticed some domed buildings off in the distance and between that and a few more signs, we made it to the Monastery of St. Bishoi.





This monastery has historical significance to the Coptic church as many of the Coptic Popes have been chosen from this order, including the current Pope Shenouda III. He also has a large residence located here (see photo below) that he used during his exile under President Sadat. We knew from some of the guidebooks that there was an English-speaking monk who could provide tours, and we were extremely lucky that Father Shedrak was available for us.

He first offered us a bite of lunch in the dining hall where the monks eat. We were offered a typical meal of tea, boiled eggs, bread, salad and fuul (beans). While we nibbled a little, Father Shedrak told us the history of St. Bishoi and answered Ron and Ben’s philosophical questions. I may be willing to blather on about things I know only a smidge about, but when it comes to religion I tend to just sit and listen (considering the majority of my knowledge base comes from Andrew Lloyd Webber musicals and our pre-cana classes).

Following the meal, Father Shedrak took us on a tour of the grounds. The grounds and buildings are extensive and in addition to Pope Shenouda’s residence, include five churches, living quarters for the ~150 monks currently staying there, kitchen, dining hall, cemetery, large garden, and several historical buildings and rooms that are used exclusively for tours. These include an original mill, original living quarters, a fifth-century well that is said to have been used by Berbers to clean their swords following a massacre, an ancient drawbridge (daunting to cross, I can tell you), a trap door above the main entrance that allowed the monks to protect themselves against invaders and yet still offer food to the poor and a dining hall that was strewn with ancient artifacts on a built-in stone table spanning the length of the room and had the most amazing architectural details.




The domed-architecture was not just to delight future “Star Wars” fans who felt they landed in Tatooine, it was also functional. The thick stone and brick walls kept the heat out, the domed ceilings with small open windows at the top allowed light and air in and the rounded shape helped distribute the light evenly as well as aid the acoustics. It really was a brilliant design (adding it to the mental files for future kitchen designs).








Father Shedrak showed us all around and spoke to us for hours on all subjects (he’s a very learned man and really interesting – throughout the day he would ask about an English word here or there and dutifully added them all to a little notebook, expanding his vocabulary at every chance). He ended our tour as all good Egyptian hosts will do, with some tea. Ours was the fresh mint variety and was delicious.

The drive home was less exciting than the drive out, but it was also done in a third the time. As a daily outing goes, this was perfect and just what we all needed. I mean, how can you go wrong with monks, mummies, ancient history, and a look-alike for Luke’s home planet?

Fluency

So here we are, almost fifteen months in Cairo. And fourteen of those months I’ve been dutifully taking my Arabic classes.

So why aren’t I fluent already? Maybe because my impatience is as equally high as my inherent laziness, which inhibits my studying, but then frustrates me. Hey, you try living in this head.

Despite my non-fluent status, I persevere. I have even bumped up my twice-weekly classes to five days a week for the month of July. I really just need to be pushed, and I know that. I really want to be fluent, I just don’t want to put all the work in to becoming fluent (flashbacks to the French Horn incident of 4th grade and the gymnastics attempt in 6th grade are blinding).

I know what I need to do – study grammar and vocabulary. On the occasions that I do spend time daily reviewing word lists, I admit that I can see a difference. So why don’t I continue? Probably the same reason I can’t remember to take a daily vitamin for more than 10 days in a row: squirrel-like attention span.

Regardless of my inert studying abilities, I find Arabic to be a fascinating language. While there are always exceptions to rules and patterns, Arabic does have a lot of logic and efficiency that I am drawn to. I’m also realizing how difficult, wordy, verbose, long-winded, rambling and loquacious English is. (Don’t you hate garrulous folk?)

For instance, in English we would say, “I will see you tomorrow.” Five words. Whereas in Arabic it’s, “Hashoofik bokra.” Two words. The efficiency is in the verb combination.
I see – ashoof
I will see – hashoof
I will see you – hashoofik
It’s all about the prefixes and suffixes. Very clever.

And root words are key too. From the root “ktb” you get maktab (desk), kitaab (book), maktaba (library/office/bookcase), yiktib (to write), etc. Again, clever.

We are currently doing a grammar review, which is good considering I haven’t discussed participles (is that half a pinch in cooking?) or modals (I’m assuming no relation to a Henry Ford invention) in 15+ years. In yesterday’s class Suheir, my teacher, had me conjugating verbs, speed-style. She’d leap back and forth between past and present, different verbs, different subjects. It felt like mental whack-a-verb. Class typically lasts 45-90 minutes and at the 60-minute mark I felt my brain deflate. I was like a wind-up toy stuck in a corner slowing down. Luckily Suheir has great patience and good sense of humor.

My goal is to get out of Egypt with a really strong start in Arabic (or be fluent). While I’m not so childish as to sleep with my workbook under my pillow (primarily since it never worked for high school Chemistry), I do hold out hope for a USB-like device that will enable a quick upload so we can forget all this silly studying and get back to collecting nuts for the winter. Now where did I store that last one?