Upper Egypt

After a few days, my body has begun to adjust to the time difference, although I still rarely know what day it is. But almost as quickly as we have settled into Zamalek, we are whisked away by overnight train to Aswan, the deep south of Egypt. I spent a week and a half trying to absorb a ridiculous amount of historical and cultural information. Traveling to the Pyramids of Giza, the Sphinx, a plethora of ancient Pharoanic temples and tombs, our tour guides Ibrahim and Michael filled our minds with the structural details and historical context of each monument. Clustered together in a group of almost 40 was quite frustrating at times; for a good 10 days we were being loaded on and off buses and guided around like a herd of sheep. Even individual time was spent in larger groups of 8 or 10 rather than 3 or 4 students. The balance between trying to meet other students and paying attention to the tours was tricky; often running on 5 or 6 hours of sleep, days were long and hot (in Aswan and Luxor, about 100-107 degrees every day!). With wake up calls as early as 5:30, I can’t say I was fully awake upon arriving on site. In Aswan, visiting temple after temple after temple, is at first almost irksome. Yet, one feeling that never gets old is that of downright awe. Thousands of years old, these structures still stand, bodies still preserved. The structural soundness and the immense size of each temple, pyramid or tomb absolutely stuns you. The remnants of paint, nearly worn off, leave you with only a partial image, your imagination filling in the rest. How were these monuments constructed. It is hard to imagine such monstrous sized and elaborately decorated structures could possibly have been built sans the technology of today's world. Traveling north to Luxor, these thoughts persist.

The sweltering heat is made bearable only due to the arid desert air. Upon arriving in Luxor we were given a few hours to explore our surrounding, so a few friends and I took a stroll down the Nile. Every 100 feet or so, a man garbed in a gallibaya approaches, “Hallo! Falukka…Sailboat on Nile?” “La’a shokran.” Taxis pull up to the sidewalk, “Taxi? Beautiful eyes!! Taxi?” “La’a, shokran.” Men sit together, 4 or 5 together, and watch you, more often than not whistling or catcalling, “Spicy girl! How many camel? Where you from! American girl! Want Egyptian husband?” Your hardest efforts at ignoring them pales in comparison to their persistence at getting a reaction out of you. The unfortunate truth is, we stand out. Our differences draw their attention, leading you to ask: Do they honestly expect a genuine response to their off the cuff marriage proposals? Are they trying to get a rise out of us? Regardless of these answers, you are left in a position where culturally, as a female, you have no real power to do much aside from politely declining. We depart from Luxor later today. I have a day for my mind to transition from tourist to student...