A diamond in the rough...

We’re back from holiday in Sharm El Sheikh, Egypt!

For those of you who could care less about my stories and just want to make fun of the pictures of me and P. on camels, here’s our trip photo album. Note, sometimes you have to wait a few seconds when clicking through the slideshow for the picture to depixelize.

My ad campaigns for Egypt tourism trade:

CAMPAIGN #1

Feeling lonely? Missing a social life? Come to Egypt where EVERYONE is your friend!

I can’t tell you how many times we heard, “My friend, my friend, how are you? My friend, my friend, where are you from? Holland? Allemachtigtachtigprachtig. My friend, my friend, come into my shop…”

CAMPAIGN #2 (target market = women)

Feeling down in the dumps? Hate your reflection? Need an ego boost? Go to Egypt!

It’s of course such complete shite, but the men very boldly oogle (even with P. standing there holding my hand) and rather than the lewd whistling or construction worker lingo, it’s just cheesy, “You are like heaven” “My god, your eyes” “You are the most beautiful woman”…you get the idea. The best is how every man would congratulate P. and tell him what a lucky man he is. At one point, he turned to me all put out and said, “Well aren’t you lucky?”

Yes, baby, I’m very lucky.

ON HAGGLING:

Be fearless. Be ruthless. Don’t be bullied. Take no prisoners. Play good cop, bad cop. They will name a ridiculously high price, but only after they’ve made you pick something out that you like. I knew to bargain, but I made the mistake in the beginning of saying what I actually thought I would pay for something. Don’t do that – shoot ridiculously low. Walk away – they always fall for it. “My friend, my friend, don't leave…”

ON SHOPPING:

There are no prices -on anything. Not even at the pharmacy. The following client will pay a completely different price for the same item. See haggling above.

The merchandise in the tourist shops quickly begins to look alike. The old market and downtown have the same goods and the best price is completely incumbent on your skills. See haggling above.

ON SEXISM:

Rather than sticking out like a sore thumb because I was a tourist, I felt like I stuck out more for being a woman in public. It seemed that our hotel had a ratio of 5 employees to 1 guest and I seriously met TWO women that actually worked in the hotel, both hidden back in the spa. Only women can massage women I guess?

At one point in the old market I reached a crossroads where I had the perfect view of 4 different streets and although the streets were crowded with people, there was not a woman among them except me, Paul’s mother and grandmother.

We finally saw 1 (obvious non-tourist) woman covered in a scarf by the bakery, with her head bent and scurrying down the street.

ON CAMEL RIDING:

Swing your feet forward when the camel sits down to let you off otherwise there’s a moment of terror when you could possibly fall head first into the desert sand.

ON OWNING A CAMEL:

It was quite interesting to see how owning a camel is a means of income. Boys (young boys to older teens) volley for attention with the excursion guide to take the tourists on their camel. The guide will only speak to one representative and they are forced to work out between them who gets first pick of tourists. This did not go over well with some.

The barefoot young boy walking his tourist topped camel across the desert floor was heartbreaking. You could pick out the more affluent boys because they actually had sandals.

They brand their camels. But for lack of the same type tools as your everyday Texas ranch, they just carve a symbol into their flesh to make a scar. Ouch.

Weirdest sight: camels don’t have hooves like a horse – it’s just skin and it kind of moves and undulates around their feet while walking.

Oh wait, the other weirdest sight – P’s family – grandmother included – smoking a hookah pipe.

ON DRIVING:

First, turn your lights off, even at night. Flash your lights when you come up on a car or unsuspecting tourist crossing the street. Second, honk your horn for an extra measure of safety. Third, drive at whatever speed you feel is best – breakneck or turtle crawl. Fourth, overtake cars on either side of the street or even between lanes. Fifth, if you happen to be driving tourists in your vehicle, be sure to blare annoying music really loudly.

P. ON DRIVING:

“It must be really fun to drive here.”

ON TAXIS:

Lesson #1 learned – if a man approaches you on the street and asks “Taxi?” and you have need of a taxi at that moment and follow him to his old blue beat-up vehicle, haggle for the extremely good deal of 5 euros, DO NOT GET IN THE CAR. Quickly turn the other way. This man is probably not actually a licensed taxi driver. Could it be the fact that when we approached an upcoming control point, they police quickly scurried to take up a rope across the street to stop our oncoming vehicle, at which point our friendly driver gunned it and sped across the rope before they could get it completely up. Yikes!

Lesson #2 learned – if a man approaches you on the street and asks “Taxi?” and you warily nod yes, after the above experience, and follow him to a properly marked blue and white taxi, then negotiate a slightly higher price of 7 euros, RUN, and I mean, RUN the other way. Have you ever had the life flashing in front of your eyes experience, gripping the seatbelt so tightly, afraid to move a muscle in fear feeling? I literally thought (while desperately searching for the glaringly absent sign of an airbag in the dashboard) this could be it - I could die here in Egypt. Reference the 4^th rule on driving above. This guy (while constantly friendly and smiling) did not want to slow down. He’d literally swerve in between big buses and create 3^rd lanes where there were none, never hitting the brake. Again, while driving at night without any lights!

Overall lesson – Pay the extra cash for the hotel transportation.

ON SNORKELING:

Being in the water, spying on Nemo and friends, is an extremely peaceful, out of body experience. Time passes above you while the longer you observe the more activity and colors and species surface and pass you by. If only the damn wave would quit splashing salt water down the pipe. I definitely want to learn to scuba.

I don’t think there is a more awkward, ugly, exposed feeling than walking those last few meters in snorkeling fins and mask to get to the water. It’s bad enough I have to be walking in a swimsuit without the comfort of my wrap covering all those free lattes added to my hips in the last year, but add to that a oversized pair of snorkeling fins while negotiating the unstable, floating walkway and spiny coral to the famous “blue hole” – not my prettiest moment.

ON ALL-INCLUSIVE RESORTS:

The people – well, not exactly our type of people - lots of men in jewelry. The food is buffet three times a day, which makes it really difficult not to overeat. A lot of the desserts were yummy. I especially like the Middle Eastern pastries with honey, figs and dates. The drinks, while free, are served in plastic cups and there is a limited range on offer. The coffee – instant coffee – not my cup of tea.

It was a good experience and we really needed a catered break. I’m glad we did it, but we’ll probably stick to B&B’s in the future. You miss something when you don’t get out into the streets – into the culture, even for dinner. We did have one dinner outside the resort near the end. And they even haggle over the price of dinner – we got it for super cheap. A sit-down dinner for 5 people was 30 euros!

ON WHAT I LEARNED IN EGYPT:

“How to hide a radio tower.” Disguise it as a palm tree, because no one will notice the completely static palm tree that doesn’t move in the wind and is 3 times higher than all the other palm trees.

ON BEING AN AMERICAN IN EGYPT:

Ummm, where is everyone? There majority of people in our hotel came from the Netherlands, Russia and Poland. I saw one or two British couples. Being American was very exotic in Egypt. I guess there is something to be said for the fact that we were only kilometers away from Saudia Arabia and Israel, not exactly vacation hotspot destinations for the States.

ON BEDOUINS:

P. and I did a day excursion that consisted of a jeep safari in the desert, riding a camel to an oasis where we drank tea in a Bedouin tent, lunch and snorkeling at the Blue Hole. Our guide was a small Bedouin man, a Muslim participating in Ramadan (which began the week we arrived). So, no wonder he barely looked at me; talked to me or answered my questions…

The Bedouins are nomadic desert dwellers and mostly originate from Saudi Arabia and other Middle Eastern countries. They still live in the desert, although seem to build more structural shelters (i.e. shacks) now. Water, still consumed conservatively, is brought into the communities in big trucks. It’s frightening how poor the areas look, although Paul did capture a satellite dish on camera near one shack.

Our guide proudly told us he had two wives and two sons, although the first wife was just “gone.” Hmmmm. He also said that Muslims and Christians live very friendly together in Egypt. However, a Lebanese colleague of mine later told me the Christian society is not that different from the Muslim society in Egypt. The women are pretty much treated the same, also wear head shawls and are discouraged from being seen in public.

We were accosted by veiled women and children throughout our excursion to buy their handmade jewelry. P. and I wore horrified that we didn’t have the right money in the beginning to give them, but later got change and bought a few mementos and gifts for friends.

The burning thought in the forefront of my mind was that female mutilation was so prevalent in these areas, but yeah, what can you do as a tourist dependent on a guide who probably practices this tradition but is your only link to getting back through the ten military posts you crossed from the protected world of your hotel?

ON FAKE FRIENDLINESS:

P. and other Dutch have commented before on the fake friendliness of the American culture, i.e., people saying things like “Let’s do lunch sometime.” “Let’s get together.” but not really meaning it. Whereas a Dutch person will whip out their agenda, set a time and a date. For the first time, I kind of understood the feeling. All the Egyptians are so friendly and accommodating, shaking your hand and inviting you to drink tea…etc., but something about it all felt so ‘fake’ to me. Because I find it difficult to believe that they really care about being friendly to a foreign, female tourist. Maybe, I’m wrong. Maybe it’s just as genuine as the Texas Chili’s waitress who asks, “How are y’all doing tonight?” with a big smile.

ON REGRET:

Next time I visit a third world type country I will take all kinds of crap, like pens and buttons and Dutch flags…etc. to give out to the number of children who stalk your vehicle upon arrival. P. and I gave away all the food we had, but the heart wrenching moment for me was the young girl who reached out to my window and asked for a pen. You pack for an excursion: you think water, camera, sunscreen lotion, but pen doesn’t occur to you. And I can only imagine this young girl as a budding writer who has all these ideas and no pen to write them down with and then kick myself for the box of collected, plastic trade show/ad pens I never use sitting at home. Talk about taking your laptop for granted.

I’ll also make a bigger effort to learn more of the language before I go. I’ve been speaking Dutch for so long now - it was weird to be thrown back to that place of communicating with hand gestures. We did learn a few phrases from our ‘friend’ Alex. My Arabic spelling skills are highly questionable.

Zay-ic – How are you?
Mela-Mela – 100%
Maa Salemeh – Good bye
Chokran – Thank you

ON SURREALISM:

Egypt is a place of stark contrasts and a dark, conflicting beauty. The desert is mountainous and empty. Sand meets ocean: a beautiful, blue, topaz, azure blue of warm water. And in between are these bizarre, surreal plots of lush green resorts. It’s literally sand meets lush, green lawn and tropical gardens.

The most intense moment was standing on my balcony (relatively) early one morning hearing the Muslim call to prayer (a eerie, singsong voice catapulted over the airways 5 times a day) and trying to reconcile the sound with the westernized landscape of swimming pools, floating bars and sculptured lawns below.