Reflections Part II

The general sentiment of this travel experience is much more somber and subdued than last year’s crazy and exciting adventures. I am still trying to pinpoint the reason for my obsession with the MENA region. Maybe it’s the reason I went there in the first place, to encounter a site inherently different from the West in many ways. Many challenges were faced, only as a result of living here, interacting with people, and visiting neighboring countries. I spent 2 weeks researching construction projects in various GCC countries, and then here I am staying in the Shangri-La resort in Muscat that I had recently read about. Reading the same story Egyptian Gazette and the Jerusalem Post, with of course very different angles. The combination of working in the region, reading about it, and visiting the areas gives it much more meaning. I now better understand the uniqueness of each country here, and not to just generalize it as an oil rich region lacking freedoms. I leave with a sense of fascination, disgust, and intrigue.

I think I am done traveling the world like crazy, I’ve seen most of what I want to see..for now anyway. As you can tell, my impression of Dubai last summer was the complete opposite of what I felt this summer. Instead, to get a much more meaningful experience, next summer I’d like to stay for a month or two in 1 country, and intimately connect with it. Perhaps I can spend my days in Morocco (the best hope for democracy and model for other Arab nations)..working with the fascinating children of Sidi Moumen in the slums of Casablanca..or teaching French to the young girls in the boarding schools in the high Atlas mountains. (That way I can make a pilgrimage to Algeria – and the spots that Camus wrote about…Algiers..Oran). But alas, I digress and dream of future adventures…

Last Days in Cairo

Back at the InterContinental Semiramis in Cairo, I have one more day in Egypt before heading back to Dubai. I decide to head to the Egyptian Museum, which houses many of King Tut’s treasures. Walking past Tahrir Square, I feel more comfortable as it is daytime and there are many people and cars bustling around. I realize the need for a tour guide in this museum as many of the exhibits don’t have descriptions. Other than the treasures found in King Tut’s tomb, the Royal Mummies were pretty fascinating. It’s amazing to see how intact the mummies were, after thousands of years; but I didn’t spend too much time in there, it was rather creepy.

I met up with my friend Andira, whom I had met last summer in Madrid during the World Cup madness. We had spent the night exploring Madrid’s nightlife after Spain had won the semi final to Germany. She is originally from Sudan, and the one thing I always remembered about Andira is what she taught us that night. In Sudan, the latest fad in dance moves was to dance out day to day actions (i.e. washing dishes). It looked much better when she showed us..rather than me trying to describe it now. We went to Old Cairo for a late lunch and shopping through the markets. She mentioned that there is still a general sense of lawlessness here. However, it was only unsafe one week during the revolution when the police disappeared from the streets and the people had to defend their neighborhoods and homes. It is unbelievable to think that now, Mubarak who had ruled Egypt for decades, is on his deathbed and in a cage in court with his sons by his side, answering to the Egyptian people. In fact they were even thinking of not airing the trial on TV anymore since it caused so much chaos in front of the courthouse and negative reactions by the people.

We go to this charming café, named after a Nobel Prize winning author (his name escapes my mind at the moment) who used to frequent the area to write. He would write about the day to day life of Egyptians, sometimes controversial, but very real. This is kind of place is right up my alley, as I like to stalk the hometowns of my favorite French authors. Andira is doing some really impressive work in Egypt, working with Google on university partnerships in the MENA region and in her spare time working with a non-profit focused on developing the Egyptian youth. She says that her parents always ask her why doesn’t move to the UK or the US in order to pursue her career. But she says she belongs in Egypt and cannot even imagine leaving this non-profit organization she works with. I admire her will to stay in Egypt and help rebuild her country.

I spend the last night in the hotel, as many other nights on this Middle Eastern adventure glued to the TV, intently watching every move of the revolutions erupting in Libya and Syria, wondering how it will all pan out.

Valley of the Kings & Temples in Luxor

I was relieved to leave the craziness of Cairo for a few days and head down to Luxor, in the southern part of Egypt. As they say, most of Egyptian history is in the South. As I gaze out of the plane window at the golden colors of the deserts, it quickly changes to rich green vegetation. Are my eyes playing a trick on me? No, we are now landing in Luxor, a rich oasis in Egypt. I stayed in a beautiful 5 start hotel right on the Nile, for $55 a night (just to give you a sense of the state of the tourism industry at this moment in time).

We first start with the Valley of the Kings, a place I wanted to see even more so than the pyramids of Giza. The kings had moved their tombs to this area as it is was further away and remote, making it more difficult for grave robbers to steal the riches buried inside. I make my way through these ancient tombs, just blown away by the detailed hieroglyphics that line the walls and tell a story. I also had a chance to visit the Temple of Luxor and the Temples of Karnak, which were of course lined with many statues of Rames II , the most known of the Egyptian kings. I was thoroughly impressed with the outdoor temples; especially the pillars and walls with intricately carved hieroglyphics.
The next day, I get to the airport to head back to Cairo. There is a problem with my ticket, it is handwritten and doesn’t have a confirmed seat number on it. The agent asks me where I got the ticket from. I hesitantly say I bought it in Israel. “Israel?!” he says. Then he asks me a series of questions trying to figure out if I was Israeli and what exactly I was doing in Egypt. Not being able to bear the thought of being stuck in Egypt for a few more days, I exclaim, “ I am a resident of the UAE, look at my passport, I am American, just let me get on the plane!”. I get the travel agent on the phone from Israel; the Egyptian flight agent gets a kick out of speaking to someone from Israel. He then jokes with me “Where will you go next, Tunis? Or Libya?”. I reply, “No, I think I’ll stop over at Damascus first”. He then chuckles before letting me go through, even though my ticket wasn’t all that legit.

Sometimes I wonder how the hell I get myself into shit like this. Traveling alone, a woman, during Ramadan, picking a stupid route, Jordan – Israel –Egypt. I end up doing what I want to do, basically what is more logical or convenient for me, rather than what might be safer or risk averse. At least it makes for some unforgettable stories.

Tahrir Square: Post Revolution

“Be careful crossing the fuckin street, the guy in my class from Egypt said 6 people die a day from car/road incidents. You probably have never seen anything like just crossing the fuckin street there...but you will be ok, you are a seasoned middle east/ shit jumping off traveler!!!”

…says my friend Ayan. So you can only imagine why it took me a good 15 minutes to cross the small street from the InterContinental hotel to the ledge overlooking the Nile.

Egypt is a seminal point in my travels for a plethora of reasons. When I was younger, I’d always hoped to visit exotic lands..such as Egypt. I imagined going to the pyramids of Giza, riding camels, and interacting with the locals. It seemed like a near impossibility. And here I am in Egypt. Never had I imagined I would be here..alone..on my Arab adventure after working in the region for a summer. Secondly, I was meant to go to Egypt in March, with a class. I spent days organizing speakers in Egypt..and an equal of amount of days fixated on the revolution erupting in Tahrir Square. Which ultimately canceled the trip, for obvious reasons.

I am so fucking awesome at making travel plans. I was in…
• London during the 2005 train bombings
• India during Lashkar-e-Taiba’s 2008 Mumbai attacks
• Israel this past week when terrorists hijacked a bus near the border of Egypt

…and now in Tahrir Square, filled with army tanks, policemen holding rifles and shields, all in the center of the city. I have never seen an army tank in my life. It is quite disturbing. What the hell am I doing here? The taxi driver gave a nice commentary as we drove through the city to my hotel. We passed by Mubarak’s palace, his son Gamal’s former mansion, and Mubarak’s office that was torched by protestors.
I cautiously walk out of the hotel, asking the reception many times if it’s safe for me to walk around. I slowly approach Tahrir Square. I randomly meet Yousef, who can easily tell that I’m a tourist. We starting talking about the revolution, how his cousin died…how he is sad, yet proud that his cousin gave his life for democracy. As I was about to bid my goodbye in search of a place to eat, he invites me to iftar with his family. Him and his brothers own several stores near the hotel, and I just couldn’t say no. To think of how much this country has been through, and people are still so hospitable.

I spent the next day visiting the pyramids of Giza, the Sphinx, and Memphis. We drove through the street in front of the Israeli embassy, which was lined with protesters wanting to oust the Israeli ambassador to Egypt. Israel had mistakenly killed several Egyptian officers at the border in its mission to capture the Palestinians who had attacked a bus in Eilat just days ago. My heart skipped a beat. “Don’t worry, the protests have nothing to do with us” says the tour guide. Either way, I am still uneasy trying to drive through a crowd of rowdy protesters. Not wanting to leave my hotel, other than to go on tours or meet friends, I found myself at a lounge with folks who were introduced to me by a friend in Dubai. May and Yasmeen made me feel at home, and I let go of my nervousness for a few hours. Foolishly I assumed that every Egyptian youth was in support of the revolution, yet May did not support it. My curiosity was sparked, yet we could not get into the details of her stance, as Yasmeen was a staunch supporter of the revolution and had spent days in Tahrir Square, and we did not want to start an argument.

A Sneak Peek into Palestine: The West Bank

Nervousness seems to be a constant feeling I come across on this trip. Since Kish Island was a little too reckless for my liking, I decided to go to the West Bank of Palestine instead. There are many daily tours from Jerusalem, which made it seem more legit, and the rocket exchanges between Hamas and Israel typically originate from Gaza as that is Hamas controlled and the West Bank is ruled by Fatah. As we drive to the Palestinian military checkpoint, I see the varied forms of the contentious West Bank Barrier. In some areas it is a brick wall, and in others just a metal fence with electric barb wires. I was hoping to see Bansky’s latest work somewhere on the wall, but alas I was not so fortunate. The wall has severely limited access for Palestinians to enter Jerusalem for work, medical purposes etc; they must hold permits to enter. There used to be some 300,000 Palestinians working in Israel, but now only 30,000. It is understandable as to why Israel is building the wall; it is surrounded by 18 Arab nations that want it defeated. In fact, Ahmadinejad has said that Israel must be destroyed, and when questioned about the lives of the millions of Muslims that live there, he repeated the same; Israel must be destroyed. Some crazy $#%&ed up shit going on in this region!! But the wall is still controversial as they are building many parts of it on Palestinian land.

So we are on the bus, me, a former navy officer from Mauritius and our Muslim driver. The officer is on a religious pilgrimage (as many of the folks that I met in Israel), and we are going to Bethlehem, the birthplace of Christ. He starts narrating Christian history (which I am interested in as I had gone to Catholic school for many years), and the conversation moves to Islam and suicide bombings in Israel. While interesting, it was not the right time to talk about this. We have a Muslim driver who is taking us to Palestine, and here he is criticizing Islam. All I wanted to say was “dude shut the hell up”, but couldn’t quite come up with the right way to say it.

The border checkpoint was pretty informal as we did not look Israeli and there were only 2 of us on the bus, the Palestinian authority did not check our passports. It’s amazing to see that just across the border, how different life is. The West Bank looks much poorer than Jerusalem of course. We visited the Church of Nativity in Bethlehem and walked through the various chambers, with catacombs..all I could think of is Poe’s Tell Tale Heart. We end the tour at a gift store, where I buy random things, unneeded of course, but felt obliged to support the local economy.
I was sitting in the hostel in Jerusalem with several other wanderers; there is breaking news on BBC about a hijacked bus near the Israel/Egypt border, with civilian deaths. Two folks from Holland were quite shocked, as they were to go to Eilat the next day. Thank God I never listened to anyone who told me to take a bus from Israel to Egypt. This type of thing happens often, but you never realize the gravity of the situation until you are there. The next day at the airport, I got searched for a good 3 hours, as did the rest of the passengers flying from Israel to Egypt.

The Holy Land

On the ride from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem, we drive along the West Bank for some time. I see houses on either side of the wall, and contemplate about of how different life is on each side. There is a world of difference surrounding this seemingly small, meters wide barrier, a highway and wall.

I have never seen a city like Old Jerusalem in my life. Old Jerusalem is best described as a fortified maze which houses the Christian, Jewish, Muslim and Armenian quarters. I entered at Jaffa gate, and luckily my hostel was just a block within the gate. Jerusalem is a very important city for 3 major religions (Judaism, Islam, Christianity) and the mélange of traces of each religion in the city is truly fabulous. All co-existing in harmony (more or less). First is Mount Moraya, where the iconic Gold Dome is located. This is where Abraham had to sacrifice his son Isaac, and where Adam and Eve were created. And not too far down the road, Elaksa Dome – where Prophet Mohammed walked from to the Gold Dome and got lifted to heaven. We walk through the maze of shops, intricate steps, and people, stopping at each station starting at Via Dolrosa:

Station 5: where Simon helped Christ with his cross, Christ’s handprint on the wall
Station 6: where Veronica wiped Christ’s face
Station 7: where Christ fell on his knees for the second time
Station 12: where Christ was crucified at Golgata

Watching the other folks in the tour group, many of whom were on religious pilgrimages to Jerusalem, my mind drifts to my religious confusion as a child. I grew up believing in both Hinduism and Catholicism, since I went to Catholic school as a child. I’d always wonder why I wasn’t allowed to participate in any of the church activities that the other students were a part of. I believe in Christ just as much as you do. Though painful, it was a learning experience as it has taught me to be open to all religions, fueling my curiosity and interest in Buddhism as well. I’ve made one pilgrimage in India to Hrishikesh and Haridwar, staying in the ashram of a guru that I followed in NJ. I spent the days in classes, going to the evening aarti’s at the Ganges river. Spiritually, I had never felt stronger. My time in Jerusalem makes me yearn to go back to India to visit other holy sites..Varnasi, Dwarika..etc.

I didn’t spend too much time outside this area, other than to visit the Israel Museum. There was just not enough time to get lost and explore all the various quarters, however our tour guide said it was probably not a good idea to enter certain parts of the Muslim quarter. Back at the hostel, it was nice to speak to Janelle, a teacher from the UK who had also spent some time in Morocco. She could relate to my frustrations of traveling alone in the Arab world as she had similar experiences in Jordan.

I buy myself several “hamsa” or “hand of Fatima” pendants, not only in Israel, but also in Jordan. I am intrigued by this symbol that has such significance in Judaism and Islam. I first encountered this symbol in Morocco; it was on many doors of homes. The significance of the hamsa is to protect against nazar, or the evil eye. I wear it daily on my chain, as a reminder and symbol of harmony and finding a solution in difficult situations. Though there are numerous conflicts in the Arab, Israeli, Palestinian world, here is one symbol of commonality. I’ve had many of my Jewish friends ask me about it, in confusion, why I was wearing it, since I am not Jewish.

Revisiting Democracy

I slowly walk up to the immigration counter, nervous as hell. “Please don’t stamp my passport, I work in the UAE and if you stamp it, I can’t go back.” I had heard horror stories from other travelers who mentioned that when they had asked for no stamp, some had gotten stamps on every page. I got grilled for a good 10 minutes on the nature of my visit to Israel, what I would be doing there, if I knew anyone, etc. The immigration officer said the only problem was that I didn’t have a ticket out of Israel to Egypt. I tried to explain to him that I could not buy direct tickets in and out Israel from any GCC countries and that I was told to purchase a ticket from Air Sinai (a part of Egypt Air, though the airline tries to distance itself from the connection to Israel) once in Israel. Finally, I showed him my ticket from Egypt to Dubai, and he let me go.
Other than this minor hold up, stepping out of the airplane into Ben Gurion Airport in Tel-Aviv, I felt a huge weight lifted off of my shoulders. People are eating and drinking ,wearing shorts, tank tops revealing shoulders, embracing each other..and I feel FREE. Finally, I can eat and drink in public during the day, do what I want, wear what I want, and not feel that anyone is watching me. Luckily my hostel was right on the beach and I walked around just to get a sense of Tel Aviv. There is a group outside of the hostel playing loud music, but I don’t mind, it is refreshing to hear music in the streets. I am genuinely looking forward to the next few days of freedom.