Heat, Dust and Dirt Bikes in Egypt

« Return to Egypt

Sean, Paul and I leave the hotel in search of local food, eventually finding a chicken kebab shop where we counted on burning coals to kill whatever might be partying on the poulet. We cross Garden City, alongside the heavily fortified American Embassy (while a well armed army protects the large US compound, I note that the Canadian Embassy is protected by one guard and several bushes), walking along a main road rowdy with old Peugeots and backfiring buses. Men sit on the sidewalk smoking hookahs and drinking small glasses of sweet tea. Hole-in-the-war eateries are sweltering with grime, as we pass a liquor store of sorts, marked as a den of iniquity. Few people smile, although we get some curious stares. I could count the few smiles I’d seen in Egypt all week, and it left a subtle impression that life is hard, and times are tough.

Later we attempt to cross the street to visit the Egyptian Museum, shadowing locals who dart in between the cars. The museum closes in two hours, so most tourists have left, and Neil (our field assistant), Cathy (our director) and I wander the impressively large halls, gazing at an overwhelming amount of history. Mummies, papyrus scripts, jewelery, ancient art and the golden sarcophagus of King Tut – I walk from one humid room to another, reading the faded typewritten card descriptions, wondering how much this would be worth to a collector, and how much we understand about one of history’s greatest civilizations. The museum looks like it hasn’t been upgraded, painted or appended for decades, the low lights creating a dusty, spooky ambiance. Shouts echo down the hall, somewhere a guard hums a traditional song. Outside Cairo is exploding in early evening action. Inside, the Mummies remain frozen in time.

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