Egyptian Odyssey…continued

About 45 minutes after leaving Giza, we reached the duty free store where one of his friends was waiting for us to arrive.  They picked out a few different types of alcohol and the employees took my passport, stamped it and wrote some notes in Arabic on one of its pages. The entire process took about 15 minutes and we were done.  After leaving the duty free store he drove me back to downtown Cairo where I picked up a sandwich and some water.  I reached into my pocket to pay for my meal and he refused to let me pay.  I liked the generosity, but it all left me wondering what he had planned for me.  I wasn’t sure if he was gay, straight, bisexual or just a nice guy who liked meeting  and hanging out with foreigners.  I never asked any questions about sexual orientation, so I felt like anything was possible even though he certainly did not make any sexual advances.  Ibrahim asked me if I knew my way back to the hostel and I said yes, but of course, as usual I got lost for about 30 minutes as I walked around in circles as I tried to gather my bearings.  I overheard 2 young American girls, probably from California based on their accents and I asked for direction.  The directions I was given were very detailed, which left me to believe that they were locals.  I was only about 3 blocks from the hostel Meramees.

The next morning after I awoke, I pulled my sluggish, lethargic body out of bed and into the bathroom so I could prepare myself for the day’s adventures of camel riding and pyramid seeing.  I knew exactly how much the taxi ride from downtown Cairo to Giza should cost, so after leaving the hostel I hailed a taxi.  The driver’s first offer was 40 Egyptian pounds (about $7 USD) and I said,

“That is too much.  I will pay you 30 pounds.”

He refused and I turned to walk away knowing that another driver would be more than willing to accept my offer.  The driver followed me and agreed to accept the 30 Egyptian pounds (about $6 USD).   A short while later we were in Giza and I handed the driver the 30 Egyptian pounds that we had agreed upon and he said,

“It’s 35 pounds.”

I sucked my teeth  and walked away knowing that he would accept the 30 pounds and drive away.  As I exited the car, I was greeted by several touts who wanted to offer me everything from aromatic oils to offers of magnificent camel rides to the pyramids and no matter how many times I explained to them that I already had a tour booked and paid for, they seemed to want my business even more, so I just kept walking with one of them in hot pursuit until I finally reached the office of Mr. Mohammed Ali (the guy with whom I had met the previous day).  Mr. Ali’s brother greeted me with a smile and and offered me some hibiscus tea.  I wasn’t in the mood to be his buddy, so I told him I was not thirsty.  About 15 minutes passed and a middle aged man named Solomon greeted me saying,

“I will be your guide today to the pyramids and the camel is ready.”

As we rode off on the camel, I immediately began to regret not buying water because it was Africa hot out there and I knew I was going to be in the direct sunlight of the Sahara for no fewer than 2 hours.  Having lived in a desert, I should have thought about that, but I didn’t, so I paid way too much for a small bottle of water at the entrance to the pyramids.  As the camel trotted or galloped or did whatever it is that camels do, I felt like my inner thighs were being seriously massaged.  The tour lasted about 2 and a half hours and the guide did a great job of giving me as much time as I wanted to photograph the pyramids and  explore the tombs.  After the tour was over I handed him what was about $10 as a tip and he was disappointed and said some other tourist gave him $100 USD as a tip.  I politely said,

“That person probably has a lot more money than I do and if you don’t want it, please give it back.”

He smiled and thanked me as he walked away.  As I walked into the office of the agency that set the tour up, Ibrahim was there waiting for me.  Ibrahim gave me a ride back to downtown Cairo and took me to a different tour office, so I could set up tours in the cities of Aswan and Luxor, two of southern Egypt’s premier tourist attractions.  After purchasing a package that included a 12 hour train ride to Aswan, a stay in a “3 star” hotel and another 3 hour train ride from Aswan to Luxor and a one night stay in a different hotel, I was set.  Ibrahim and I parted ways, but before he left me he said,

“Call me to let me know what time you will back in Cairo and I will pick you up at the train station.  You can spend your last night in Egypt at my place with my family.  It doesn’t make sense to pay for another night at the hostel.”

I was super stoked because I really wanted to crash with an Egyptian, so I could experience life as an Egyptian, even if it were for only one night.

The Train Ride to Aswan, Egypt

I showed up at the travel agencies at the scheduled time of 9:30 PM so someone could escort me to the train station and seat me.  When I arrived at the  agency a very nice guy met me and handed me my train ticket, which looked just like a small rectangular 2-sided card written entirely in Arabic.  A few minutes later we made our way into the metro station and from there to the train station where he showed me to my seat.  Several moments later a gentleman boarded the train and asked me in Arabic if he could see my ticket, so I said,

“Sorry, but I don’t speak Arabic.”

He signaled to me that he wanted to see my ticket and I handed it to him, so he could see it.  He walked over to someone else and showed it to them and the guy who had just seated me had what seemed like a heated discussion with the guy before coming over and saying,

“Do not give your ticket to anyone!”

I didn’t see the harm in letting him see it because I could tell him what the ticket said since it was in Arabic and I figured he wanted to see my seat assignment.  He gave me the ticket back and said,

“Two number two. “

I deduced from that that we both had the same seat assignment, but he sat in the seat next to me and there was no more conversation about my seat until the train arrived at the next stop and the agent who had seated me exited the train.  Seconds after I saw this agent leave the train, a very irate man came over and started screaming at me in Arabic.  I politely said,

“I’m sorry, but I don’t speak Arabic.”

My reply seemed to only make things worse and as this guy is only a few inches from my face, I could feel spit flying.  As he continued to scream, I came to the conclusion that I could do nothing to diffuse the situation, so I acted like he was not there; I completely ignored him.  He boarded the train with a woman and it was obvious that she was trying to calm him down, but it wasn’t working and as the train started to move it became clear that he was not a ticketed passenger,so he jump off and onto the platform.   Moments later the woman who had boarded the train with him screamed,

“Hasaan!”

Suddenly people on the platform rushed to where this guy has made his quick exit from the train.  To this day I am not sure if he fell onto the tracks or if there was a fight or some other altercation because I didn’t have the energy to stand and look out the window.  I dosed off only to startled by the woman who entered the train with Hasaan standing in my face yelling,

“Mine…mine…mine.”

I responded by saying,

“Mine.”

Moments after she walked away in anger, the train stopped again and at this point I was afraid to sleep, so I just kept my eyes and ears open waiting for the next person who wanted to take my seat.  I could have just given up the seat, but the thought of standing for 12 or 13 hours was not a pleasant one and since I had paid a pretty penny for what was turning out to be a horrible train ride, I was hell bent on staying put.  What seemed strange to me is that nobody from the train company had come around to check the tickets.  I was very anxious and I really wanted someone official to come clear up the confusion, so I could get some rest.  As we sat in the station a full 4 or 5 hours after I had boarded, a group of people gathered near the door closest to me and there was about a 10 to 15 minute conversation taking place and all eyes were on me with an occasional finger pointing my way.  I tried to stay calm and I did a pretty good job of hiding my fear of being killed and dismembered on a train in the middle of the Egyptian countryside.  At this point, the guy who had been sitting next to me said,

“Where are you from?”

There was no chance of me telling the truth, so I proudly said,

“Brazil!”

He seemed happy and said,

“Football, football!”

After this brief and friendly exchange, he got up and gave his seat to a woman who was traveling with 2 young children.  After about 30 minutes the woman communicated to me with hand gestures that she wanted me to stand so that one of her children could sit.  I signaled to her that he could sit on my lap, but the young boy was old enough to be embarrassed by the gestures, so he continued to stand and I was happy because I didn’t her little snotty nosed kid on me anyway.  As I made myself comfortable, a middle aged man walked over and said in pretty good English,

“You must get your things and go!”

It sounded a bit rude to me, but I think it was just because of his lack of a total command of the English language and the words “you must”, so I said,

“Sorry, but I don’t understand you.”

I refused to get up and just as we were having this discussion someone finally came by to check the tickets.  He said something in Arabic and one of the ladies son seemed pretty ecstatic for a second.  I didn’t know what was going on and I really didn’t care because I figured they were all conspiring to take my seat.  Finally, a teenage boy came over who spoke English very well, so I could not pretend to not understand and he explained to me that I was in the wrong cabin.  He said,

“You are suppose to be in the first class car.”

I responded by saying,

“Listen, I was seated by the agency that I bought the ticket from, so I don’t believe you.  I think you just want to take my seat.”

He said,

“Please…just trust me, there is a seat in first class for you.”

I quickly replied,

“Well, if there is an empty seat in first class why doesn’t the guy who wants this seat sit in my seat.  It is ok with me, I will just sit here and give him my first class seat.”

He said,

“He has to sit next to his wife.”

I politely said,

“Alright.  I will go with you to first to see if there is indeed a seat for me.”

As we walked through the rapidly moving train, we all had to hold to the sided to keep from being thrown around.  There were people sleeping on the floors and people hanging out in the sections between the cars.  It was by far the worse train ride I had ever taken.  Finally, after what seemed like 5 minutes of walking through the train we arrived in the first class cabin and to my surprise, there was a seat for me, so we walked by to my original car to gather my belongings.  I apologized and explained  to the teen what had happened and he said,

“No problem, you are our guest.”

I also asked him to tell the family about the mix-up.   The first class ride was pretty smooth.  I sat next to 2 Nigerians and across from 2 Afghanis and we talked for several hours until we all fell asleep.

To be continued…