Saturday, December 1, 2012

They're Digging In The Wrong Place


I cannot remember the last time I had a traditional Thanksgiving meal. One year, my dad made turkey-shaped polenta squares with cranberry butter. That’s about as close as it ever got, unless I am somehow repressing those memories of turkey, gravy, stuffing, and pumpkin pie. Until I started college, we spent most Thanksgivings in LA, where we substituted squab for turkey, almond and orange peel rice for mashed potatoes, and baba ghanoush for gravy. Egyptian, Persian, Armenian, even Chinese dishes have made their way onto our Thanksgiving table. This year, we had Egyptian food again, but this time, we weren't in LA: we were in Cairo.

My parents have wanted to go to Egypt for a while now. When my dad asked me if I wanted to join them after they visited me in Bologna, I of course said yes. I am very thankful for the opportunities my parents have given me, especially those that have allowed me to travel, so spending Thanksgiving in Cairo seemed to be quite appropriate. I need to preface my story with that disclaimer so as not to seem ungrateful or bratty. I really am happy to have seen a new country (and new continent!).

However, visiting a third-world, Muslim country as a socially liberal Western female was extremely challenging. I wanted to love my experience in Cairo, surrounded by years of ancient history and archaeological wonder. I also wanted to have an open-mind toward a lifestyle that was completely foreign to me. Unfortunately, the culture shock was too much. The culmination of the dirty streets, non-stop honking, rabid dogs, unbearable pollution, constant male gazing (yeah, it was even worse than Italy), the complete lack of autonomy, and the protests in Tahrir square, minutes from our hotel, was overwhelming and frustrating. Despite all of the difficulty, the cool parts of Egypt were just that: very, very cool.

The Pyramids at Giza. As with most world wonders, it is impossible to accurately capture the feeling of being in their presence. I could flip through the dictionary to find the right word – immense, powerful, awesome – but what comes to mind instead is “humbling” (although, perhaps, “over-compensating” may be more appropriate for my more cynical readers…). Even the hoards of souvenir vendors and semi-serious marriage offers (my going rate was about 200 camels and 4 Ferraris) could not detract from the ancient architectural ingenuity. We took a camel ride through the desert to reach the pyramids, which was definitely more impressive than my first camel ride at the Buffalo Zoo.

We also saw Memphis, the ancient capital, and Saqqara, the site of the first step-pyramid. The highlight of the trip for me, however, was the Royal Mummy exhibit at the Egyptian Museum. I’m not just saying that because my dad spent an extra 10 dollars for the separate admission ticket. The Pharaohs, who spent so much of their lives preparing for the after-life, really did achieve immortality. They are remembered thousands of years after their deaths by people from all over the world. The exhibit was divided into two separate rooms, and the mummies were covered from the neck down to their ankles. So yes, that means their faces and feet were completely uncovered. I stared into the blackened, shriveled face of Ramses II; he, thankfully, did not stare back.

When I landed in Italy, I must admit I was relieved to be back in familiar territory. I am still unsure whether my experience in Egypt has dissuaded me from travelling to more non-European countries or whether it will propel me toward further adventure. I certainly hope the latter. For the time being, though, I am in no hurry to return to Cairo.

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