Cairo, Part 2

Apologies, everyone. I wrote this over two weeks ago and just now got around to adding the photos and publishing. Better late than never?

Whew! This post should probably have been more of a mini-series, but hang in there, there's belly dancing and whirling dervishes ahead!

For those of you who somehow didn't read the last post, here's the short version: DO NOT rent a car in Cairo, DO get a tour guide, see old stuff. Okay then, on to day two of the tour.

Like the previous day,  day two of our tour began when our guide Ash and strong-silent-type busdriver Zayn picked us up amid the flurry of doormen, security guards, and miscellaneous hotel staff that seemed to be ever present at the front door. We all loaded up and drove approximately 500 yards to the other side of the building where the Egyptian Museum is located. We had tried to talk Ash into just meeting us at the museum, which was not even across a street from our hotel, but he insisted on picking us up. Formalities.

The Egyptian Museum is a beautiful relic of a time before museums were about selling science and history. The building itself is old by American standards (the collection was moved there in 1902), with a dim and dusty interior packed to the gills with antiquities. Walking around, you get the sense that they kept digging up things and then squeezing them into the spaces in between the collections already on display.

Squeeze together...closer...closer. Ok, good. Now hold still.

(Silently judging everyone)

We saw wooden boats intended to carry kings across water in the afterlife, the somewhat preserved entrails of a 4000 year old queen (divided into four boxes), mummified kings, dogs, monkeys, crocodiles, and snakes, and the gilded mask of Tut. We saw the sculptural representation of monarchs progress from the perfect, athletic ideal to the absurd, grotesque reality that comes from an ultra-refined genetic pool. We saw the evolution of headdress fashion. We saw very dry dead people.

 

And lots of animal people.

Flip flops: footwear for the afterlife

Then we went sailing. Five minutes of our felucca ride brought on fond memories of putting around the west-end beaches of STX in a tiny trimaran, and although the Nile is not exactly like the Caribbean, the sound of water under the hull and the creak of the rigging is the same. This was, without a doubt, the most tranquil half-hour we spent in Cairo, despite Q's disappointment with the lack of crocodiles.

"If I had wanted to not see crocodiles, I would have just stayed home."

We spent the rest of the afternoon touring the city. For every place we went and everything we saw, Ash supplied us with a textbook's worth of historical information. My cache memory filled up pretty quickly, so most of what Ash told us overflowed directly into the recycle bin. Luckily, Wikipedia exists. We did a short walk through Old Cairo, stopping to visit the "Hanging Church" (actually named Saint Virgin Mary's Coptic Orthodox Church), dating back to the 3rd century, A.D. The narthex of this church was lined with photos/portraits of every Coptic pope, ever. This is important  mostly because it let me use the word narthex in a sentence. Based on a few hundred years of portraits, having a huge beard is a prerequisite for the job of Coptic pope.

Next, we drove to the top of Mokattam hill in the center of the city, where we saw the Cairo Citadel and the Mosque of Muhammad Ali. No, not that Muhammad Ali, this Muhammad Ali. The mosque is a beautiful structure and an impressive example of Ottoman architecture, but after seeing the pyramids and their associated temples, the bar was pretty high.

 

What's at the end of those cables, you ask?

I wish I could remember.

We ended our afternoon with a short stop at one of Cairo's street markets, where we successfully avoided buying anything except for overpriced coffee and tea. Best sales pitch: "Don't worry! All I want is your money!" To keep Q out of trouble, and to help keep us out of the clutches of aggressive salesmen, I put him up on my shoulders, where he sang to himself in Arabic for most of our time in the market. We were all ready for a little down-time after that and, fortunately, our tour schedule included a short break at the hotel (long enough for a swim and a couple of beers) before the final event of the day: the Nile Dinner Cruise.

We arrived at dockside just after sunset and just before boarding time. While orange and red clouds washed over the river and the city, we chose our table in the dim blue neon interior of the boat's dining area. The atmosphere was something like a strip club, but with a buffet and some mild, motion-induced nausea, so we ordered drinks and made small talk with the nice ladies from Ohio at the next table. The windows were so heavily tinted that it was impossible to tell when the boat actually left the dock, but we didn't have to wait long for the entertainment to begin.

Belly dancing, with live musical accompaniment, was act one. The dancer, zaftig and sequined, smiled with her mouth, but her eyes seemed to be reconsidering her career choices. Q could not take his eyes off her, or close his mouth. I think most of the adults were conflicted about where they should have been looking, and for how long. Just when we were all getting accustomed to the awkwardness, the dancer began a tour of the room with a photographer, stopping at each table to pose behind whomever she thought would be most likely to shell out $5 for a copy of the photo. At the end of her set, prints of the non-consensual photos were delivered to the appropriate tables and offered for sale. We bought it because it was ridiculous.

Act two consisted of two whirling dervishes, or more likely, two guys who were good at spinning. One was a little person who served as comic relief, the other guy was a natural entertainer, engaging with the crowd and apparently having a good time. After we had all seen about enough spinning, he demonstrated his ability to count to ten in any language spoken by any guest on the boat. Then he did the picture-at-your-table thing too, which we bought solely because of how terrible the shot was. After dinner, we all went up top to see whether the boat was actually moving. It was, and for the second time in five months, we were actually chilly.

Our ride to the airport the next day could not have been more different from our first taxi experience in Cairo. The car had air conditioning, the driver did not honk even once, and I felt, for most of the trip, like we would probably survive. We did.

Red Bull Gave Us Actual Wings

My, how the time flies! We really had every intention of posting a couple times a month when we started this thing, but at least the road paving project is going well. I'd also like to blame part of the lapse on Stanpa, who was supposed to do a guest piece, but I have learned from a lifetime of experience that, in his own words, "if you're waiting on [Stanpa], you're backing up."  Anyway, this is an attempt to catch you all up on what we've been up to since Grandparental Visit #1. For more on that, see Jenn's post about our palatial stay-cation. Alright, here we go.

Mid-March brought us a noticeable upward trend in average daily temperatures and the Red Bull Air Race. The Red Bull aquifer under the sands of Abu Dhabi is one of the largest in the world. As a result, extreme sports events are naturally drawn to the region to tap into the seemingly inexhaustible supply of liquid wings. The latest One of these was the Air Race. Other events since early November include the season kick off for the Formula 1 circuit, two different kinds of powerboat grand prix (prixes?), and a motocross exhibition. An extreme desert race is going on right now, surprisingly not sponsored by RB. But back to the Air Race: three days of 24 tiny, overclocked planes maneuvering one-at-a-time through a course of inflatable pylons over water under a strict set of rules and associated time penalties. The margins are so slim that pilots incurring a single one-second penalty mid-lap simply quit and returned to the landing area.

The course was set up in the "breakwater" area between our grocery store and the public beach and was free and open to the public (it would have been tough to rope off). The nearest viewing spot from our apartment was right next to the aerial equivalent of a hairpin turn, which required pilots to perform a high-speed chandelle starting about 60' above the water. I found the intricacies of racing much more interesting than Q, who was entertained for about the first lap of the first plane of the first day; he insisted on staying, however, which I suspect was mostly for the people watching. Intermissions included some other adrenaline/Red Bull fueled aerial exhibitions like wing-walking, skydiving, and those wingsuit things (think human-sized neon flying squirrel). Oh, and two of the Sheik-copters literally just hovering all afternoon to watch the race. Mmmmm.....avgas fumes.

Cairo, Part 1

At the end of the March, we went to Egypt. Cairo is about a three hour flight from Abu Dhabi, but it would take longer than that to describe the differences between the two cities. Compared to the clean, shiny, orderly newness of Abu Dhabi, Cairo was a crumbling, dusty, chaotic sprawl. Things in Cairo that are older than anything in Abu Dhabi don't even count as history there. The frame of reference for what "old" is in Egypt has a couple extra zeros in it compared to U.A.E. or U.S.A. For instance, the average age of buildings in Abu Dhabi is probably about 35 years, while our Cairo tour guide went to church in a building built in the third century, A.D.

So after we manage to get through passport control with the help of a man who thankfully didn't run away with our passports, we are approached by a man in a suit who offers us a taxi ride. The price was right, so we follow him through the parking lot until I start to wonder if we've made a huge mistake. He leads us to a group of not-as-well-dressed Egyptian men, helps us put our bags in what seems to be a random car, and then enters into a lengthy conversation (in Arabic) with the group about (I think) the best way to get us to our hotel, to which our driver has apparently never been. Our concerns about getting to the correct hotel were quickly replaced by concerns about surviving the trip.

Upon arrival in Cairo, prior to confronting the insanity that is passport control.

Driving in Cairo must be one of the most well-established iterations of human hive-mind I've ever experienced. The rules, if there are any, are unwritten and may, in fact, lie outside the scope of standard forms of communication. Perhaps similar to the way honeybees communicate with a combination of pheromones and dancing, Egyptian drivers somehow avoid death (most of the time) through a complex horn language and a don't-hit-me-I-won't-hit-you attitude. Also, there are no seatbelts. Yet somehow, cars, trucks, military vehicles, horse-drawn carts, bicycles, and sprinting pedestrians all use the same road, seemingly unfazed by nearly dying every second. We later tried to get our guide to explain how the traffic signals (which were always flashing yellow) worked, because whole groups of cars were clearly taking turns, but he just laughed at us.

But first, a word about traveling with children in the middle east. Be prepared for grandparent-level-plus spoilage. Seriously. Q could have walked around slapping old ladies and knocking over flower arrangements and people would have rushed up to offer him juice and cookies and more flower arrangements. It's either wonderful, embarrassing, or infuriating, depending on your outlook and how much you care about consistency. I am not exaggerating when I say that no fewer than two staff members were doting on Q at all times whilst we were on hotel grounds and not inside our room. And by doting I mean bringing him giant glasses of fresh juice, custom dishes that we did not order, hot chocolate, fruit plates, double handfuls of candy, personal invitations by the head chef to join him in the kitchen, requests for photo ops, ponies.

Q and Chef Antonio

Ok, no ponies, but the rest is true. This is also true in U.A.E., Oman, and, to a lesser extent, Kuwait. C'mon middle eastern peoples, do you want tyrants? 'Cause this is how you get tyrants.
Parents, consider yourselves warned.

Alright, enough about the cultural differences, on to the pyramids!
 

Tahrir Square in the background.

Our two-day tour with Let's Explore Egypt (which we can't recommend highly enough) started at Giza. I mean, really it started at our hotel where our guide, Ashraf, and our driver, Zayn, picked us up. [Side note: all cars were subject to a dog-sniff and visual inspection before entering hotel grounds, protected by a fence and hydraulic bollards like they have at every government building in D.C. Also, all guests had to go through a second security checkpoint, metal detector and bag scan, before entering the building. Did I mention that our hotel adjoined Tahrir Square?]
So Ash explains the dynastic history of Egypt as we drive the half-hour to Giza, nonchalantly fielding random questions from Q on the way. "Why does that truck have extra wheels?" "Is your name Ash, like ash tray?"





Here's what I remember about said history lesson: Egypt is really old, they started building pyramids after Egypt had been around for a really long time, the pyramids are really old, they built hundreds of them, pyramid design underwent several reformations over the course of a few thousand years, some pyramids were built better than others, the capitol city was moved up and down the Nile, leaving pyramids scattered all over. There was quite a bit more detail than that, but I wasn't taking notes. The Giza pyramids sit on a plateau above the Nile (can't have your eternal burial spot flooding every other year) literally right on the edge of greater Cairo (zoom out for full effect). The Nile has since changed its course so that the pyramids are no longer river-front, leaving plenty of dry-ish ground on which to build tenements and tourist traps.

Our first glimpse of the Giza pyramids.

Despite the proximity to the brown bubble of Cairo, the pyramids at Giza are striking. Geometrically perfect and massive, each of the three main pyramids at Giza stand as a testament to a belief in the human embodiment of a deity, the continuation of life after death, and the determination and labor force to pursue that end to extremes. Millions of tons of quarried stone, transported for miles, carefully placed and polished, all to help one guy make it to the afterlife. (Wives, sisters, and daughters got their own, tiny pyramids off to the side.) Thanks to several thousand years of weather, looting and, um, repurposing, nearly all the pyramids we saw (and the antiquities formerly within) were damaged, but it was not difficult to imagine them in their original grandeur. Clearly, being king was kind of a big deal.

Thanks to some pre-pyramid coaching from Ash, we were able to avoid being constantly hounded by multiple hawkers of China-made kitsch. Still, watching them descend on bus after bus of Asian tour groups was sad, but not as sad as many of the fashion choices made by the selfie-stick wielding mobs. After a few hundred photos, we took a two minute drive to the "desert" side of the pyramids for our obligatory camel ride. For those that haven't tried it, riding a camel is a bit like straddling an ottoman, tied to a cow, who is wearing stilts. Camels are actually quite graceful, but they will make you feel like you are not. At all. Thankfully, they are low-key animals who do not look at all like they are judging you.

While in Giza, we also saw the Great Sphinx, which is tiny compared to the pyramids, but still pretty darn big for a sphinx. We learned from Ash that the literal de-facement of the Sphinx was probably not the result of world war target practice, but more likely due to a (much earlier) rival king's displeasure at the prospect of his subjects' worship of a giant man-lion-god. I mean, as a person without the body of a lion, that is pretty tough to compete with.

So after our photo-assault of Giza, we went to the Three Pyramids Papyrus Institute, which is not so much a place of higher learning as it is a way to sell traditional Egyptian art. We got a one-on-one demonstration on the papyrus making process, shots of hibiscus juice, and an explanation of several ancient paintings reproduced from scrolls and tombs and such. Attention marsh-dwelling hipsters: there is an artisinal market niche for the taking, stateside. Papyrus is quite remarkable as a medium; it is flexible, durable, repairable, and washable. While we watched, our host transformed a green reed into a layered piece of 'paper', washed off of it what I had written in ink, tore the piece in half, then pressed the thing back together like new. Not quite as portable as a .pdf, but probably more likely to be accessible and readable after several millennia.

Lunch with a view.

We ate lunch in a place with a post-card view of the sphinx and pyramids, then spent the rest of the afternoon touring other pyramids outside of Giza, in the complexes known as Dahshur and Saqqara. At Dahshur, we saw the "bent" pyramid, so called because the builders changed the slope of the sides about half-way through. I couldn't help but think that the first contractor had quit/been fired, and that either the first or second contractor could not read/refused to follow the architect's drawings.




King: So, the first guy didn't really work out. *draws finger across throat*
Contractor #2: I can tell. It's good you hired me when you did, that thing would never withstand the millennia, the way he was building.
King: Can you fix it?
Contractor #2: Oh yeah. No problem.
King: ...
Contractor #2: It won't be cheap.
King: ...
Contractor #2: Ok, ok, I'll do it for free.
King: Finish before I'm dead.

The Bent Pyramid

These pyramids were definitely not on the tourist map. We were the only people there, other than the military guard and the guy who keeps the lights on inside. Since we were going to climb all the way to the center of the pyramid (yes, inside) we gave that guy a tip before we went in. He made a joke that we didn't get, and we laughed nervously as we descended the ramp/ladder. The shaft was about a meter high and a meter wide (don't worry American friends, I still think in feet and inches), dropping at a steep enough angle that, had the floor not been augmented with treads of square steel tubing, we would have slid all the way down and probably not been able to climb back out. At the bottom, we found a series of chambers leading to what I'm going to say was the middle of the pyramid. It reeked of ammonia. Having only what we were wearing and a couple of smartphones, we felt totally unprepared for the afterlife. We did not linger long.

The Red Pyramid: Yes, we were inside that pyramid.

Inside the Red Pyramid

The side of the Red Pyramid

Climbing out was easier than climbing in, and how refreshing we found the sand-filled wind and blazing sun after 10 minutes inside a 4500 year old crypt! The old man with the light switch was still laughing at the jokes we did not get as we climbed back down the face of the pyramid to our waiting tour guide and van. In the distance we could see the mound of rubble that remained of the "black pyramid" which had been built of clay bricks instead of stone. Lesson learned: don't skimp on materials when building for eternity.

The Descent

Although we were slated to go the Incredibly Amazing Sound and Light Extravaganza at the Giza pyramids, by 4:30 Q was exhibiting classic I-need-a-nap mania. Neither Jenn nor I was so interested in hearing the Sphinx, awash in red and green light, rumbling about the history we had already heard that we wanted to endure five more hours without supper and beer. So we went back to the hotel and swam in the pool. We wrapped up our evening with room service and some reality show featuring tattooed dudes in Russia crying about mammoth blood. It was perfect.

Kuwait...Exploring the Middle East One Country at a Time

So, one of the amazing things about living in this part of the world and having the job that I have, is that we are traveling to countries we would not normally think to travel to. As you all know, we spent Christmas in Oman, Easter in Egypt, and this past week we were in Kuwait. While the first two trips were for holiday, our excursion to Kuwait was motivated by work.

Kuwait served as the host for the 6th Middle East North Africa Renewable Energy Conference (or MENAREC). IRENA was one of several co-organizers and I had the distinct honor of serving as a speaker for several sessions, so we all packed up and headed to Kuwait.

A few things to note about the region and Kuwait in particular. First, is that the UAE is pretty relaxed culturally. A fact that I was reminded of once we arrived in Kuwait. We live in an apartment building, not a compound, and while I do not wear shorts and tank tops around, I can wear a bathing suit in our pool and at the beach. In Kuwait, there were pilot signs on the nightstand in the hotel that if women wanted to swim in the main pool, they needed to wear appropriate attire (see below). If one wanted to wear "western" swimwear, then they could do so in the Ladies Lounge, a completely secluded pool and beach area for women only.

Hotel appropriate swimwear in Kuwait.

The other point to note, which we were not aware of prior to arrival, is that Kuwait is a completely dry country. Unlike the UAE, where you can get alcohol at hotels, fully licensed restaurants, and liquor stores (with a license, of course), in Kuwait it is illegal to possess or consume alcohol.

While our time in Kuwait was limited, we met a really nice American family while waiting for our visas. They live in Kuwait and were very happy to meet other Americans, so Stan and Q arranged for a play date that week. We also witnessed some incredible sunrises (see below) and enjoyed one of the best seafood buffets ever. We also got to see an old friend from the States (shout out to Lauren), who we are excited to host in Abu Dhabi next year.

Good morning Kuwait!!

The sunrise speaks for itself...

Check out the presentation on that smoked salmon.

While I am very glad we had the chance to experience Kuwait, our trip there made me appreciate the UAE and Abu Dhabi in particular all the more. We are lucky to live in a place that invests in its people and its country the way the UAE does. We are never at a loss for things to do and experiences to enjoy.

   

The Ultimate Staycation

Okay...so we have not written in a while, but it is not because we do not have anything to say. Really, we have just been so busy that the blog has suffered and for that, we apologize.

Now that we have dispensed with the pleasantries, let's get to it. A little over a month ago, we had our first official house guests here in Abu Dhabi. Stan's parents came and spent two weeks with us. For those of you with children, you know that grandparents = free babysitters. Naturally, we took total and complete advantage of that, but the grandparents did us one better, they got us a night at Emirates Palace, where we really did get away from it all...right across the street from our apartment.

For those of you who read our blog regularly, you will have seen external shots of Emirates Palace here before, but just as a reminder...

Unlike most other guests who arrive in style for their stays...

 ...Stan and I packed a bag and walked across the street. But how we got there is really besides the point.

Upon arrival, I was given a small bouquet of flowers and we were each given a hot towel, Arabic coffee, and dates while they checked us into our room. We were then escorted to our room (we could not have been trusted to find our way there on our own). No sooner had our escort departed than our doorbell rang (yes, you read that correctly, our doorbell rang). Unbeknownst to me, when making the reservation, Stan III let the hotel know it was my birthday, well, they took that information and ran with it...

Birthday cake and banner, courtesy of Emirates Palace, sponsored by Stan and Paula Adams.

Our stay was delightful, complete with dinner on the beach, incredible breakfast buffet, and a stroll along the grounds. If I was not scheduled to leave that evening on travel, we would have taken advantage of the pools and our resident babysitters. Next time...

Now for some photos, from the insiders' perspective.

Sitting Area

The Bed: Note iPad room control device on the bedside table, which controlled everything from the lights, television, and air conditioning.

Room with a View

Welcome Card

Beach Dining

The reason we needed an escort to our room.

Breakfast with a View

Lazy River (Etihad Towers in the background)

Water Slide!!!

Presidential Palace

Bedouin Camp, complete with camels, right on the beach.

Sculpture in the trees

Tumblers!

Yes, those are hammocks in the pool.

Until next time...