| "Have your say here" Post at: post@myeasyticket.com Send your (travel) stories. Give us your opinion. Post your ads. Complain. Recipes from your country |
| YOUR STORIES (AND OTHER ONES) |
home
just kidding
your music
your photos
book/pay
Published Sep 18, 2007
“Your name is Oh-ma?” I asked, not quite catching the pronunciation.
“No, Omar, you know, like Omar Sharif?”
“Ah, Omar! You were great in Doctor Zhivago”
I had been told that humour goes a long way in Egypt. The horse and cart
driver seemed to like my little joke.
“So, where do you want to go?” asked Omar. I directed him to Karnak
temple, just a few minutes away from the centre of Luxor. Since I had
already seen the Valley of the Kings on the West Bank and Luxor temple in
the city centre, Karnak, once the heart of the great Theban Empire, was to
be my last major sightseeing excursion.
As we plodded northwards to Karnak, Omar gave me a historical tour of the
city. He showed me the broken remains of the Avenue of the Sphinxes, and
told me that he had learned about them many years ago from his
schoolteacher.
“My teacher did not teach me about that!” I said disappointedly. Omar’s
moustache jiggled as he laughed. I began to warm to the middle aged
Egyptian.
Once we arrived in Karnak, Omar refused to be paid and said he would wait
for me to finish my sightseeing. I did not want to argue with him, so I
reluctantly agreed to pay him later.
When I returned from the temple, as promised, Omar was still there,
brushing his horse and smoking a Cleopatra cigarette. He saw me
approaching the cart and waved me over.
“Okay?” he asked. It was getting dark, so I told him I would be going back to
the hotel. Omar oblige
On the way back, Omar told me that his uncle would be getting married and
so, later in the evening, his family was having a party to mark the occasion.
After chatting more, Omar enthusiastically invited me to attend the
gathering, promising me a traditional and authentic Egyptian celebration. My
instincts told me that his kind nature was genuine; so off we went, to attend
my first Egyptian wedding party.
Omar directed his horse down a matrix of sandy side streets until we finally
stopped because a wagon trailer was blocking the road. We left the horse
and cart and walked around the trailer to find that the road was a dead end
anyway. But of course, Omar already knew this. This was to be the venue for
the party.
It seemed that we were unfashionably early for the celebrations and
everyone was busy preparing something. Some carried traditional mats and
laid them on the floor for people to sit on; others were putting up banners
and decorations. My self-appointed job was to entertain the children while
the adults were busy. My digital camera kept them amused for a while at
least.
“We will have music later,” said Omar, pointing towards the trailer. The trailer
would later serve as a makeshift stage. There was already a microphone on
it, which was plugged into a mobile mini-PA system, and four seats were set
atop.
Apart from the children, I realised that there were no females outside. I
asked Omar about this and he explained that all the women were inside the
house having their own celebrations. It seemed that I was at the stag party
and the women were having a hen night. I wanted to go inside and see for
myself but Omar was not sure.
“It is no men allowed really,” he said. I got the feeling that I might be able to
play the foreigner card later on.
The party really got going when the band started to play. A space in front of
the trailer was used as a dance-floor and quickly became inhabited by an
army of robed males. Some men danced by frantically shaking their bellies,
others preferred to twirl around until they lost their balance.
Later, some women came outside to join in the dancing. Their faces and
bodies were covered with a meliyya, a head-to-toe garment with slits for the
eyes. Each woman took turns to belly dance and then promptly returned to
their room once more.
I asked Omar if I could meet his wife. He went into the house where the
women were and a few seconds later, he came out smiling.
“It’s okay to go inside,” he said. “Just for a little while”
When I cautiously entered the cramped room, the women went crazy and
cheered. Their tongues moved frenetically from side to side and emitted a
noise that was something like a siren. They no longer had their faces covered.
One woman was belly dancing in the middle of the room and she pulled me
over and urged me to join in. What the hell, when in Rome. I tried my best
to emulate the rapid gyrating movements of the enthusiastic Egyptian
woman but, in all honesty, I must have looked more like Mr. Bean playing
with an invisible hula-hoop.
Although the party was a lot of fun, I was aware of the harsh conditions that
the people were living in. The woman’s room was damp and without luxury
and the party outside was essentially held in a dusty back alley.
All this made me all the more grateful for the various drinks and foods that
were continually thrust into my hands. An unidentified sticky cake was
particularly tasty. I washed it down with some sweet, strong Egyptian tea,
which the locals call shai. The air was thick with smoke from Sheesha pipes
and cigarettes, the music hypnotic, lending an increasingly surreal quality to
the occasion.
As the dancing began to wane and the party slowed down, I told Omar that I
had to leave early in the morning and he agreed to drive me back to the
hotel.
I remembered some of the magnificent sights I had seen in Egypt, the
ancient pyramids in Giza, the museums, temples, and tombs. But I knew,
even then, that my most treasured memory of Egypt would be that party in
a back alley of Luxor. The kindness of the people who welcomed me to join
their celebration, the traditional food, drink, music and dancing, all this was
an experience that I had because of a few timely jokes. It is true; humour
does go a long way in Egypt.
WHEN YOU GO
Transportation:
You can travel to Luxor from Cairo either by domestic flight, train, or bus.
The overnight sleeper train from Cairo is a popular choice (see sleepingtrains.
com for more details), but reservations have to be made at least two days in
advance. Some hotels will be happy to arrange this for you.
Hotels:
There is a wide selection of hotels in Luxor that can be found in any good
guidebook. The Mercure Inn is a good mid-range hotel, with an ideal location
near Luxor temple in the city centre.
Sights:
Once there, Luxor can be explored in two or three days, ideally leaving one
day for a trip across the Nile to the West Bank to see the Valley of the
Kings, the Valley of the Queens, and the nearby temples. The mummification
museum on the East Bank is worth a look and Luxor museum is large and
well presented. Karnak temple runs a regular sound and light show at night
and Luxor temple is also illuminated after dark and provides a mystical and
enchanting atmosphere.
“Your name is Oh-ma?” I asked, not quite catching the pronunciation.
“No, Omar, you know, like Omar Sharif?”
“Ah, Omar! You were great in Doctor Zhivago”
I had been told that humour goes a long way in Egypt. The horse and cart
driver seemed to like my little joke.
“So, where do you want to go?” asked Omar. I directed him to Karnak
temple, just a few minutes away from the centre of Luxor. Since I had
already seen the Valley of the Kings on the West Bank and Luxor temple in
the city centre, Karnak, once the heart of the great Theban Empire, was to
be my last major sightseeing excursion.
As we plodded northwards to Karnak, Omar gave me a historical tour of the
city. He showed me the broken remains of the Avenue of the Sphinxes, and
told me that he had learned about them many years ago from his
schoolteacher.
“My teacher did not teach me about that!” I said disappointedly. Omar’s
moustache jiggled as he laughed. I began to warm to the middle aged
Egyptian.
Once we arrived in Karnak, Omar refused to be paid and said he would wait
for me to finish my sightseeing. I did not want to argue with him, so I
reluctantly agreed to pay him later.
When I returned from the temple, as promised, Omar was still there,
brushing his horse and smoking a Cleopatra cigarette. He saw me
approaching the cart and waved me over.
“Okay?” he asked. It was getting dark, so I told him I would be going back to
the hotel. Omar oblige
On the way back, Omar told me that his uncle would be getting married and
so, later in the evening, his family was having a party to mark the occasion.
After chatting more, Omar enthusiastically invited me to attend the
gathering, promising me a traditional and authentic Egyptian celebration. My
instincts told me that his kind nature was genuine; so off we went, to attend
my first Egyptian wedding party.
Omar directed his horse down a matrix of sandy side streets until we finally
stopped because a wagon trailer was blocking the road. We left the horse
and cart and walked around the trailer to find that the road was a dead end
anyway. But of course, Omar already knew this. This was to be the venue for
the party.
It seemed that we were unfashionably early for the celebrations and
everyone was busy preparing something. Some carried traditional mats and
laid them on the floor for people to sit on; others were putting up banners
and decorations. My self-appointed job was to entertain the children while
the adults were busy. My digital camera kept them amused for a while at
least.
“We will have music later,” said Omar, pointing towards the trailer. The trailer
would later serve as a makeshift stage. There was already a microphone on
it, which was plugged into a mobile mini-PA system, and four seats were set
atop.
Apart from the children, I realised that there were no females outside. I
asked Omar about this and he explained that all the women were inside the
house having their own celebrations. It seemed that I was at the stag party
and the women were having a hen night. I wanted to go inside and see for
myself but Omar was not sure.
“It is no men allowed really,” he said. I got the feeling that I might be able to
play the foreigner card later on.
The party really got going when the band started to play. A space in front of
the trailer was used as a dance-floor and quickly became inhabited by an
army of robed males. Some men danced by frantically shaking their bellies,
others preferred to twirl around until they lost their balance.
Later, some women came outside to join in the dancing. Their faces and
bodies were covered with a meliyya, a head-to-toe garment with slits for the
eyes. Each woman took turns to belly dance and then promptly returned to
their room once more.
I asked Omar if I could meet his wife. He went into the house where the
women were and a few seconds later, he came out smiling.
“It’s okay to go inside,” he said. “Just for a little while”
When I cautiously entered the cramped room, the women went crazy and
cheered. Their tongues moved frenetically from side to side and emitted a
noise that was something like a siren. They no longer had their faces covered.
One woman was belly dancing in the middle of the room and she pulled me
over and urged me to join in. What the hell, when in Rome. I tried my best
to emulate the rapid gyrating movements of the enthusiastic Egyptian
woman but, in all honesty, I must have looked more like Mr. Bean playing
with an invisible hula-hoop.
Although the party was a lot of fun, I was aware of the harsh conditions that
the people were living in. The woman’s room was damp and without luxury
and the party outside was essentially held in a dusty back alley.
All this made me all the more grateful for the various drinks and foods that
were continually thrust into my hands. An unidentified sticky cake was
particularly tasty. I washed it down with some sweet, strong Egyptian tea,
which the locals call shai. The air was thick with smoke from Sheesha pipes
and cigarettes, the music hypnotic, lending an increasingly surreal quality to
the occasion.
As the dancing began to wane and the party slowed down, I told Omar that I
had to leave early in the morning and he agreed to drive me back to the
hotel.
I remembered some of the magnificent sights I had seen in Egypt, the
ancient pyramids in Giza, the museums, temples, and tombs. But I knew,
even then, that my most treasured memory of Egypt would be that party in
a back alley of Luxor. The kindness of the people who welcomed me to join
their celebration, the traditional food, drink, music and dancing, all this was
an experience that I had because of a few timely jokes. It is true; humour
does go a long way in Egypt.
WHEN YOU GO
Transportation:
You can travel to Luxor from Cairo either by domestic flight, train, or bus.
The overnight sleeper train from Cairo is a popular choice (see sleepingtrains.
com for more details), but reservations have to be made at least two days in
advance. Some hotels will be happy to arrange this for you.
Hotels:
There is a wide selection of hotels in Luxor that can be found in any good
guidebook. The Mercure Inn is a good mid-range hotel, with an ideal location
near Luxor temple in the city centre.
Sights:
Once there, Luxor can be explored in two or three days, ideally leaving one
day for a trip across the Nile to the West Bank to see the Valley of the
Kings, the Valley of the Queens, and the nearby temples. The mummification
museum on the East Bank is worth a look and Luxor museum is large and
well presented. Karnak temple runs a regular sound and light show at night
and Luxor temple is also illuminated after dark and provides a mystical and
enchanting atmosphere.
"A Luxorian Celebration" by Jason Gaskell
http://www.jason-gaskell.info/index.html
http://www.jason-gaskell.info/index.html
Anne Zahalka
Reader
Reader
