Egypt: Day Fourteen, Part Two

After this exploration of how religions coexist in this largely Muslim country, our bus wends its way through Cairo traffic, past shops, garbage and people sleeping rough, to a square that borders on the Khan El-Khalili Bazaar.  Adjacent on the square is the Al-Hussein Mosque, which is where Ahmed goes, while we shop, to catch up on some of the prayers he probably missed because of us heathen tourists.  He told us during the Q&A on the boat that he manages somehow to fit his prayers in during the day.  Which is amazing, given our schedule.  (His last name is Hussein, as is the other guide-Egyptologist, Jihan.  I guess that may be Egypt’s version of Smith or Jones.)
       We all head into the bowels of the bazaar.  Dawn and I decide to split off from the group and wander on our own for the hour-and-a-bit we’re given.
       Khan El-Khalili is a warren of criss-crossed lanes with shops on either side.  Most are open-air but some are arcades with offices or residences overhead.  I’m not looking for anything in particular, but I spot some small mirrors that would look good in my apartment in Montmartre, by the door to reflect sunlight into a sometimes dark interior, especially in winter.  There are none the size - and price - I want in the first shop, but nearer to the end of our bazaar-cruising, I do find one made out of wood that’s perfect in size.  Dawn and I also stop by a spices store to enjoy all the colors and aromas.  There’s every kind of spice you’ve ever known and a few you haven’t, all in barrels or baskets.

       A strange thing happens in one of the streets bordering the bazaar.  Shopkeepers call out to us, as we are visibly tourists.  And then, for no apparent reason, one of them calls out to me in French.  About five minutes later a second shopkeeper does the same.  To this day, I have no idea why they picked me out as being French, but as it happened twice, they must have been basing it on something.  I guess that will remain one of Life’s Little Mysteries.
       Dawn and I walk back and forth in these lanes for the full hour.  And then we need to find our meeting point, which we think is in opposite directions.  As it all looks alike up to a certain point, there's a moment of apprehension, but finally we wind up on the square again and our blood pressure returns to normal.
       As our bus creeps down a crowded street, there’s a shout and the bus comes to a sudden halt.  I see people running toward it, and the security guard jumps out through the door in a flash.  Sitting on the opposite side of the action, I have no idea what’s going on.  It turns out that a boy in an adult-sized wheelchair propelled himself against the bus.  It was probably a ploy to extract money from the bus driver.  When he saw our security guard, he evidently thought better of it because he’s run away, unharmed and suddenly not in need of the wheelchair.  A miracle!  Must have been all those churches.

Back at Mena House, we all gather together for one last meal in the big banquet room.  I must say there are some tearful good-byes.  Some of us have grown close over the past two weeks, and chances are we may well never meet again... with one or two exceptions.  At least a list of e-mail addresses is passed out so we can keep in touch.  I’m sure there’ll be exchanges of photos and memories over the coming months.
       A good number of my fellow travelers head to the airport tonight.  Others are leaving in the morning.  I and a few others have chosen to add on a day in Alexandria tomorrow.  So it’s to bed with me because... well, yet another early wake-up call.

Egypt: Day Fourteen, Part One

Our flight is at 5:50 am.  By 7:00 we’re back in Cairo and on our way to Mena House.
       One thing I’ll be asked a lot when telling people about this Egypt trip is “Was it safe?”  The answer would have to be “Hell yes!”  Everywhere we went, there was a discreetly armed guard among our staff.  Opening up the way for the bus was often a police car, which would change every time you went over the border into a new governate (like a county).  And there are a lot of police around the monuments, as well as at the airport.  Not to mention the highway checkpoints with the chicanes, and the Zodiac with its police crew escorting our boat for part of the way...

     At the Cairo Airport, we have an airport security guard.  He goes with us until the exit of the airport perimeter.  As we drive into town, I spot guards atop the walls around the military academy as well as other government buildings.  Elsewhere I don’t see a lot of police.
     Today is Friday - the Sabbath in Islam - so there’s less traffic.  For instance the 10 minutes it takes us to clear the airport zone usually takes 60 to 90 minutes, according to Ahmed.  We zip through Heliopolis, the rich suburb where the President has his palace.  Ahmed points out a large private park that belonged to the Aga Khan; he opened it to the public for a mere 10 or 15 Egyptian pounds, which is under $1.  As it’s Friday, there’s a huge market being held in the cemetery, which is a vast part of Cairo.  We zip across Roda Island in the Nile River; Roda means paradise and that’s the way people feel about this little haven.  After that, we’re back in Giza.
       When we reach Mena House, the faithful German shepherd - one of several, I’m told - is taken out of his doghouse to sniff our car.  As it’s a bit nippy, he has on a coat, and on the coat is an escutcheon indicating he’s a service dog.  It rained in Cairo for two days while we were upriver.  And it rained hard, with thunder and lightning.  As it rarely rains, the drainage system is poor and there are puddles all over.  And mud.  But at least we missed out on it.  Walking around in the pouring rain when all you want to do is admire pyramids...  We were lucky.

Al Hussein Mosque

Many in our group are flying out tonight, after our festive dinner.  Or early tomorrow.  Some gluttons for punishment have signed up for an excursion today.  I know I’ll probably never be in Egypt again, so I’ve decided to go on the tour of the bazaar in Old Cairo.
     On the way to the bazaar, we walk down countless narrow streets of shops, including a bookshop that looks just chock full of old books that are calling to me.  But our goal in this part of Old Cairo is to explore other facets of Egypt’s multi-religion culture.

The Hanging Church

       First we visit a historic Coptic church built over a gatehouse to an old Roman fortress - thus its name:  The Hanging Church.  When considering Christians in Egypt, it should be remembered that the Holy Family fled here to escape Herod.  According to what I’m told, Jesus lived here, in this area, from the age of 2 to 6.  The Hanging Church hasn’t been around quite that long, only for 1700 years.  It’s built of wood and stone, in the shape of an ark.  Its sober brick interior contrasts with ornate woodwork that’s very Moorish in its style:   openwork cut into the precious woods.

       A few short blocks away stands the Ben Ezra Synagogue, built where Baby Moses is supposed to have been found when the Nile was high and the pharaoh’s palace was nearby.  Just as we go to enter, the call to prayer rings out from a minaret close by.  The irony is not lost on me.  This synagogue was once a Coptic church, but it was damaged in an earthquake and only the Jews were interested in buying it... and for a huge price.  Richly decorated inside, there’s a balcony which is for women, a bit of sex discrimination that seems the rule of thumb here in Egypt. 

St. Sergius & St. Bacchus Church

       The third place of religion is St. Sergius and St. Bacchus Church aka Abu Serga.  Named after two Christian soldiers who were martyred in Syria by a Roman emperor   Again there’s a direct link to Christ.  It’s said to have been built on the spot the Holy Family - Joseph, Mary and the infant Jesus - reached at the end of their long journey into Egypt.  And although the church was built in the 4th century, underneath it is a crypt where they are said to have rested.