Egypt 2011

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First morning in Luxor. Our hotel is nice. We have a balcony off our room that overlooks the Nile river. The hotel is elegant, modern and comfortable. As mentioned though, it is strangely quiet. Very few guests. We wonder if this is a result of the protests happening through the country, scaring tourists away.

We meet Mohmed, our guide, after breakfast. The plan today is for a tour of the Valley of the Kings, Hatshepsut's Temple and Rameses Temple. During our ride, Mohmed mentions that the Muslim Brotherhood has called for protests today after Friday prayer, but he brushes off the chance of disruption or danger.

We ask Mohmed what he thinks of all this. Mobarak's 30 year regime has been cloaked in democracy, but in reality has been an oppressive, autocratic dictatorship. One of the first things that we saw leaving the airport in Cairo was a giant poster of a mostly benevolent, but a bit menacing Mobarak. It didn't surprise me. Seemingly, every dictatorship adorns it's country with images of the "Dear Leader" or "President for Life" in an expression of narcissism and propagation of cult of personality. Such I expected from Egypt. Similarly, I expected a reluctance of Egyptians to talk frankly about their government out of paranoia or true fear of their safely. The reality was a surprise for me. Mubarak's giant face greeted us as we left the airport, but was no where else to be seen. Mohmed spoke with no sign of caution or fear, telling us of his dissatisfaction with Egypt's government (opportunities are rare, people are not doing well, he's been in power too long), as did any other Egyptian who we met. Mohmed's response to our question "what's going to happen?", was the same as all other's we asked: "No one knows."

We drove upriver to the only bridge in the area and crossed it to the west bank. In ancient Egyptians mythology Nut, the sky goddess, gave birth to the Sun God each morning in the east. He would pass through the sky, illuminating the day, only to be ingested by her in the west at sunset, a death, of sorts. The Sun God would pass through her body at night to be born again in time for the next day. Thus, the east bank of the Nile was associated with life and this was where the ancient Egyptians lived. The west bank of the Nile was associated with death. Egypt's necropolises, Giza, Seqquara, Dashura, the Valley of the Kings, Valley of the Queens, etc. are all located on the west bank of the Nile.

We drove back up river, nearly directly across the river from where we started. Our first site was the Valley of the Kings. This was the necropolis of the Late Kingdom Pharaohs. The landscape was familiar. Tall, cracked, sunbaked, brown mountains of limestone that looked very much like southern Utah. The parking lot was a convergence of tour buses. Nationalities of all kinds disgorged, pouring forth through the entry gate, jostling for position on the "Disney Train" that would take us to the tombs.

After 2000 years of tomb robbing, the Pharaohs realized that, although a massive monument over a tomb was a reflection of power and prestige, it was also a giant target, advertising "the treasure is HERE!" The Late Kingdom Pharaohs dug their tombs deep in mountainsides. From the outside they were purposefully underwhelming and hidden. But this was the golden age of Ancient Egypt, a time of famous pharaohs such as Ramses the Great and Tutankhamun. The tombs modest exterior hid architecture, art and treasure that was extraordinary.

One ticket = access to three tombs. Tutankhamun was extra, if you wanted to see it. We first saw the tomb of Ramses I, a relatively small tomb, since he took power at 80 years old and only ruled for 2 years. Still, it was brilliantly painted, colors still present after 3000 years. In the burial chamber stool an enormous granite sarcophagus and a thin Egyptian guard who would tell you about it for a few Egyptian pounds.

Next we visited Ramses III's tomb. It was much larger and required a diversion in its path after inadvertently running into King Amenmes' tomb. A passageway, covered in richly painted heiroglyphs and protected by plexiglas, steadily descended 126 meters, abruptly ending in the collapsed, boulder filled burial chamber.

Last, we entered Ramses IV's tomb. It cuts straight into the mountainside with no descent. Its art gazed down on us from tall ceilings and well preserved walls. All of this is impressive, but what was most interesting to me was the evidence of occupation after Rameses was laid to rest. Early Christians lived here in the 2nd century AD, hiding from Roman persecution. They left graffiti, written in Greek. They drew images of a cross and of two figures, both robed, one with a beard. Apparently unable to bear the endless stare of ancient images, they scratched off the faces of painted and carved Egyptian gods and pharaohs.

Leaving the valley of the kings, we stopped by a shop selling stone trinkets, figures and vessels. The shopkeeper demonstrated for us the way vases were handmade. T and I looked around while Mohmed smoked a shisha. After a bit of haggling, we walked away with a nice alabaster vase.

Hatshepsut's Temple was our next stop. Like the valley of the kings, it was flooded with tourists. The temple is a stately, columned, 3 level structure, built against the towering valley wall. Numerous holes are punched in the surrounding valley wall, entryways into the tombs of the temple's builders and workers. Two trees brought live from Punt (Somolia) 3400 years ago were planted at the grounds' entry. Their small, fractured stumps still remain. A long causeway leads to a giant, stone staircase which ascends to the temple entrance. We followed Mohmed up the staircase and into the temple, dodging other tourists.

The temple's walls were covered in hieroglyphic carvings, some their ancient paint intact. It was still hard to believe despite seeing similar examples throughout the day. Hatshepsut ruled after her husband's death, first as queen, then taking the unconventional step by declaring herself Pharaoh. Thutmosis III, her son, followed her rule as a powerful king, creating an empire from Nubia to Syria and Asia. Perhaps as an effort to restore convention to the title Pharaoh and erase the history of his mother's unorthodox rule, Thutmosis III had his face carved over her likenesses on the temple's walls. He also built a temple to rivals hers on the same site. In a case of historic irony, her temple still stands imposing and impressive, while his is ruined, a pile of collapsed columns, broken walls and rubble.

As we left the temple and grounds a small boy standing next to a hand painted exit sign was trying to divert the river of tourists to a collection of tables and tents selling souvenirs. "The exit is this way!", he yelled. Mohmed smiled and patted him on his head as we walked directly to the parking lot.

We had lunch and Mohmed smoked a shisha. Rameses II mortuary temple was our last visit. Standing in front, it appears almost two dimensional, very tall, but minimal depth. Once passing through the first gate, the enormity of the temple becomes apparent. What appeared flat now seemed telescoped, entry way following entry way, gate after gate. A massive outer wall first greets us, carved with reliefs celebrating Ramses II military victories. In a traditional pose, he holds the hair of his enemies in one hand, the other raised high, about to smite them.The wall's and column's carvings are especially deep, so they have been well preserved. Past the outer wall and through two courtyards is a 48 column hypostyle hall. Egyptians, Greeks, Romans and early Christians all occupied this temple at one time or another, using it and modifying it for their own purposes. At the rear of the temple, the giant columns have been cut, sheared nearly to their base. The ancient Greeks did this, using the freed columns to construct their own temple.

The temple was magnificent, but it wasn't part of the tour bus parade. It wasn't crowded at all. In fact, it was nearly empty and allowed me to have an unhurried, intimate experience. Dashur was the only other place that we visited so far that was similarly uncrowded and allowed such an experience. It was one of my favorite places.

After this, Mohmed dropped us off in central Luxor, on a broad street that separates Luxor temple from the downtown market area. We entered the market and found a shop selling spices. Ahmed was the shopkeeper and after haggling a bit with him, T bought some hibiscus and saffron. All of a sudden men were coming out of their shops and running down the alleyways, headed in the direction where we were just dropped off. I asked what was going on and one man stopped long enough to say "Mubarak!" while making a slashing motion across his throat with his finger. The protests were starting and going right past us. We continued around the market, avoiding the area where everyone had run. Mostly things had calmed down, but we still heard people talking about the protests.

After awhile, we sat at an outdoor coffee shop, next to the spice shop we had been to earlier. Ahmed, the shopkeeper joined us. We drank strong Turkish coffee, smoked a shisha (apple flavor) and chatted with Ahmed. He offered us marijuana and hasheesh (we declined) and arifacts 2000 years old from the west bank (so he said). Again, we declined. News was blaring about the protests. Teargas had been fired. Animated young men were coming by, telling stories of what was going on. One acted out a throwing motion. Ahmed interpreted, saying that a protester threw a teargas canister back at the riot police.

We thought it was a good time to return to the hotel. Ahmed offered to find us a cab, so we followed him out of the market. It was upon leaving the dense market and entering the streets that we realized how drastic the events were surrounding us. On our right, a couple of hundred yards away was a line of riot police, teargas in the air and crowds of people staring in that direction. I took a couple of pictures, but T grabbed me. She had been warned by someone that it wasn't a good idea and that my camera would be taken by the police if they saw us. Ahmed had us stand back, on another street, saying that it was dangerous where we were.

He found us a taxi. We got in, thanked Ahmed and headed for the main thouroughfare that would take us to the hotel. We came around a corner and into what looked like a war zone. What was dirty, but orderly streets of Luxor was now rock and debris strewn. Riot police stood, shields up and teargas floated through the air. We were allowed through one police line, but before long couldn't go any further. We turned around and made a large, circling detour through narrow, crowded residential streets packed with parked cars, donkey carts and garbage. We made it around, but looking back at the confrontation site we could see smoke in the air.

Back at the hotel we heard that cell phone service and internet access had been blocked. We spent the night in the luxurious, secure and insulated silence of our hotel. Tomorrow's itinerary included Karnak Temple and Luxor Temple, right at the site of the protests. I wrote in my journal that night: "Curious to see what happens."

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Photos

Hatshepsut's Temple
As with most of the sites, lots of tourists

3000 year old paint.
The yellow was made with egg yolk

Rameses Temple
Ancient Greeks cut these columns to construct their own temple