Egypt: Day Twelve

No wake-up call!  What a luxury!  Nothing to do today but eat, relax and meet with Ahmed in the afternoon to ask any questions we may have amassed.  “No question is off-limits,” he says, adding, “We’re here to learn about each other.”

     At 11 am, Mme. Sadat signs copies of her book for anyone who wants.  There’s a gentleman there who opens the book to the page for her and asks our name.  He turns out to be someone who served under her husband and has been with her ever since the assassination in 1981.  He’s very attentive to her every wish.  ll of us gathered end up talking.  I bring up a passage in her first book about her husband loving their garden and she tells me he spent an hour in it every morning from 7 to 8, thinking about issues and the work of the day.  She says she feels that the present government is much better than the elected one brought about after the Arab Spring, mentioning that now there’s electricity all day long.  Zahi Hawass, who left us in Aswan, also said things of this nature.  I wonder if it’s a social class thing, but don’t say that.  She also mentions that Barack Obama gave money to the Muslim Brotherhood - but later research shows it was just standard foreign aid to the Egyptian government - and that she didn’t approve of Hillary Clinton having Huma Abedin in her close circle, saying Abedin was linked to Muslim terrorists.

       When I return to my room, I find the Towel Fairies have been at it again.  This time a crocodile, with the TV remote in its jaws.  I put my little mahout on the crocodile’s back and go in search of the fairies.  The steward I find asks if I’m done with the mahout.  I tell him “that’s my friend”.  He finds the whole thing so funny he goes to find his colleague, who tells me the mahout is his son and he needs him.  I ask what his son’s name is, remembering that Ahmed said most boys in Egypt are named either Mohammed or Ahmed.  And sure enough, “Ahmed” comes the answer.  (N.B.  Two days later, as I pack up to leave, Ahmed is still sitting on my desk.  They’ve left him with me.  I guess they thought I would be a good mother to him.)

       After lunch, many of us join our real-life Ahmed in the lounge to ask questions.  I learn that in school students have to study two foreign languages.  As for religion, I learn that sins count only after puberty.  And that in Egypt Sharia law comes before the Constitution because the Constitution is based on Sharia law.  Another subject evoked is the economy, which has known better days.  Salaries haven’t gone down, but they haven’t gone up either in a long time.  And the exchange rate of the Egyptian pound is in a downward spiral  As most everything is imported, that causes hardships to most Egyptians.  Ahmed gives an example:  about a year ago, a refrigerator cost 6,000 Egyptian pounds; now it costs 25,000.  The price of sugar has gone from 2 pounds to 15 and cooking oil from 20 to 60 pounds.  It doesn’t sound to me like that will be bearable for people much longer.  And given that much of the economy is based on tourism, which is already low because of fear of insecurity, any civil unrest will cut even further into the economy.

The banks of the Nile float by.  Bullrushes, palm trees, other trees with white flowers in them that turn out to be birds.  A white donkey picking its way down the steep banks for a drink of water.   Children playing, women with bags of food.  Boats with one or two men fishing with nets.  Fellucas, and a barge headed upstream.   Ferries carrying people back and forth between the river’s two banks.  From time to time a village.  Or minarets visible beyond some trees, just as steeples are in Europe or America, the call to prayer reminiscent of the Angelus that would stop workers in French fields for prayer.  Occasionally there are caves carved into the rock.  But always the paleness of the desert standing out behind the green ribbon made possible by the Nile.

     We sail past Kom Ombo and Edfu without stopping and when we reach the locks just south of Luxor, the hawkers put on a show.  There are some in boats filled with Stuff, and others perched on the lock structure.  If they have something we want, they throw it to us and we throw them money.  And they’re much better pitchers than we would be.  From my room below-deck, I get a close-up view of the whole show.  And also see that the lock has taken us down a height of two floors on our boat.  

       We also pick up a police escort in a Zodiac again, which I’m pretty sure is for Mme. Sadat.

It’s been a quiet day, which is a good thing because so much has been crammed into the past ten days, including several very early wake-up calls.  Another one of which will come tomorrow morning.