Thursday, December-30-10 6:45 PM
We are so very happy that we remained in Cairo at the end of our tour. We have now a chance to absorb the city, the country really, in ways that we could not so long as we were raggedly rushing from one tourist highlight to the next. It’s not that we regret the tour. It was wonderful in an entirely different way. It introduced us to much that otherwise we should never have grasped about the life and history of Egypt. But now we have leisure, that important ingredient without which a deeper absorption is not possible.
We breakfasted this morning in the small restaurant on the second floor of our hotel. Breakfast always is included in the cost of a hotel, I believe in most of the world outside of Canada and the US. It is a most civilized convention. The spread here is modest in comparison to that to which we had become accustomed on the tour. The terrible breakfast cereals that we have seen everywhere, no doubt in response to North American requests, boiled eggs, toast, pita bread, butter and jam, a fruit salad, baked tomatoes and crispy potatoes, small packages of a mild cheese, tea and coffee with a decanter of warm milk. The space and the nature of the breakfast were closer to the atmosphere of our equally modest hotel in Rome. It was very pleasant. When Mark and I have travelled with Intrepid or GAP Adventures in the past we have always taken their “regular” level of service. This time we chose the “comfort” level. The price was about 75-100% more and clearly it was more comfortable: better hotels and food, and better transport. We were spared, for example, a day-long journey by bus from Luxor to Egypt, having rather, our one hour flight two days ago. So we gained but also we lost. One of the things we most celebrated about our previous trips with these companies was the small, usually family-operated hotels in the centre of the cities that we visited. There we felt a closer connection with the people whose country we were entering than was possible in larger, more professionally run establishments. Now we are back to the roots that we have formerly enjoyed.
After breakfast we set out to explore the Citadel. This vast walled collection of buildings is on the east side of the Nile in the old Islamic section of the city. As its site is in the foothills of higher mountains, it has been an important site for defence of the city from at least the 9th century. In the late 12th century walls were built as a protection in case of attack by Crusaders. Since it has been added to and reworked to its current state. There are four large mosques adjacent to or within its walls, rather like the various churches within the Kremlin walls. Each succeeding group of conquerors, including the British who ruled Egypt as a “protectorate” in the 19th and early 20th centuries, has used it as the centre of their administration.
The nearby subway took us north and east from our hotel in Dokki, leaving us several miles away from the area we sought. A bus terminal close to the Metro station looked promising. Within was a jumble of local buses without any designation discernible to us. A man approached and with very little language on either side he grasped what we wanted and proceeded to put us onto the correct bus. As luck would have it he was the manager of the terminal. He waited with us by the road until the bus arrived, giving instructions to the driver to let us off at the Citadel and not to charge us. It was an amazing ride through streets riotous with cars, people, and shops. The diversity of colour and of clothing throughout this area of Islamic Cairo is wonderful.
When we disembarked we climbed one set of stairs which seemed to lead to a central portal. We were quickly disabused of that notion, however, by the sight of refuse and feces. A man approached and in quite good English told us how to find the main entrance. He explained that because it was the time of prayers the Citadel would not be then open, but suggested other places nearby that we could see in the meantime. He was heading in that direction to his home and would show us. He gave the disclaimer that he wasn’t a guide and didn’t have a shop but I thought after he had accompanied us for some time giving detailed explanations about the area, that he probably was a guide. He was but it was alright. He took us through streets which would have been difficult for us to navigate without a more detailed map. Much of this area was shattered by a powerful earthquake in 1992 and only some parts have been restored since. He took us to the Ibn Tulun Mosque, built in 876-879, the oldest mosque in Cairo. We took off our shoes in the stone forecourt, stepping onto the carpets laid throughout. The keeper of the mosque approached our guide who showed him a card with his picture on it, a clear sign of his status as one who shepherds tourists about. He took us into the inner mosque area where prayers are held. It was clearly very ancient, made of bricks and wood and unlike the larger, tiled mosques that we visited in Istanbul.
He asked then if we wished to climb the minaret from which we could have excellent views of Cairo. We did. There was not a charge for this access but a donation of 100 EL each to the fund for the feeding of orphans was customary. We agreed, placing the money into the locked donation box in the presence of the keeper. Our guide then indicated the road that we should continue upon after our visit to the mosque to reach the close-by Egyptian bazaar, and left us. I asked him if he would like something for his trouble. He said that it was up to us but if we wished to give something for his month-old baby, it would be appreciated. And so we did.
To get to the minaret we climbed the narrow stone steps of a tightly circular staircase onto the roof of the mosque proper. To one side stood the minaret leading us up several more levels also on a tightly narrow circular path. As we climbed we could view from small windows the precipitous heights that we were gaining. At each level the winds swept about us more insistently. We came to the penultimate level, deciding to forego the final flight on a twisting open iron ladder. It was a marvellous view. From there we could clearly see and appreciate the nature of the damage done by the earlier earthquake.
Leaving the mosque, we headed in the direction given by our not-a-guide guide. The street, one of the oldest of Islamic Cairo twisted its way through several neighbourhoods, bringing us in time to the market where Egyptians, not tourists, shop. It was arranged in large groupings – one part focussed on clothing, another on bedding, and still another on shoes. After walking many blocks through this place we found ourselves back at what we were calling “the souk” but what is called Khan al Kalili by locals. We returned to the Koshary where we had eaten several days ago with our group for a repeat of that simple but filling and nurturing meal. From there we hopped into a taxi headed for the Metro by which we returned to the hotel for a leisurely afternoon.
This evening we decided to go over to our former hotel, the Pyramisa, for supper in their lobby cafe. We had just settled in and given our order when a great burst of sound came from the front entrance – drums and a bagpipe, with singing and clapping and even the sound that middle-eastern women can make with their tongues. Clearly a happening! Many guests of the hotel, including us, streamed out to the entrance to investigate. It was a wedding party. The bride, dressed in a western-style white gown with bare arms and shoulders and with her hair elaborately coiffed, stood arm in arm with her groom. Bright lights illuminated the pair as the entire celebration was videotaped. Over the top of the music made by the bagpipe and the drum came a soaring horn, sounding much like an electrified oboe. That type of horn has been used for centuries to draw friends and neighbours to a wedding.
Shortly after this excitement began to die, another started up in the area of the ground floor close to a wide staircase. First came the piper and the drummers – about eight men in this case. Behind were six pubescent girls dressed in white tutus, with stockings and slippers, and bare arms except for the elbow-length gloves that they wore. The bride and groom descended next. She was dressed more conservatively than the other bride, though in an equally elaborate outfit. The dress came to her throat and covered her arms; her hair was entirely covered with a white turban-like headdress of the same material and decoration as the dress. As she and the groom stood in a central location, the six young girls moved around them to the music, in a choreographed dance. The tempo of the music rose and fell, all directed by the player of a large bongo drum. Soon the bagpipe player’s place was taken by another horn player. The bride and groom danced briefly together within the circle of the dancing girls; then she was surrounded by men probably of his family and hers; they danced around her as she danced in the centre alone. An older man joined her to dance – her father? and soon afterward a woman all in black approached to kiss and embrace her. Before long the entire party moved up the staircase still accompanied by the musicians and singers. The bride was young and lovely and her groom seemed very happy. Everyone, even those of us who were simply watching in curiosity, were grinning widely and enjoying the excitement of the event. It was a surprising and wonderful close to our day.
I've struggled with uploading photos to this post today but have managed a few. Have a very Happy New Year everyone. Take care. Brenda.
No comments:
Post a Comment