TRAVELING AROUND THE WORLD: Our Tales of Delights and Disasters (3 page)

As we discovered, our hotel was safe – comparatively
.
Tanks were parked outside and security gates limited access to guests. The hotel was lovely with a pool overlooked by the pyramids, which were a short walk away – a walk we would not take. Soft music was playing – a stark contrast from tanks and guns (and, later, the roar of fighter jets). Our room had plush beds and a marble shower, a welcome sight. From that point, we slept and waited, not allowed to leave the hotel. The pyramids were closed. We could only sit by the pool, look at the pyramids, and try to be calm as we thought about what to do.

In the end, the decision was clear but disappointing – leave Cairo as quickly as possible. That was easier said than done. Curfews were enacted each afternoon that prohibited all movement; the airport descended into chaos, and Internet service remained curtailed. Thankfully, cell service was reestablished allowing us to text and call. Plus, we had the cavalry on our side – Egypt Magic and Fly Well Travel staff. The staff with their supervisor, Amr Haggag, never left our side, not once, ever. They stayed overnight at the airport and at the hotel – dressed in their suits and ties. Keep in mind, these are local people with families in the affected areas. They left their wives, kids and parents to ensure the safety and comfort of strangers. One young man wiped a tear from his eye as he told of his frightened mother crying to him on the phone. She lived in one of the buildings threatened by looting. Despite these personal hardships, they checked on us several times a day to see if we were okay. Their manager called personally to ensure our satisfaction. We were more than satisfied. We can’t say enough good things about these people and this company. It went beyond good business practice, particularly as we talked to others stuck at the hotel who had not seen their tour company’s representative. Ironically, in talking with Amr, we learned that even though he is in the tourist industry specializing in U.S. and Australian visitors, he has never been to the U.S. because of the difficulty in obtaining a tourist visa. It takes years to get approval. How sad is that? Here is a young man, getting married this summer, who wants to take his new wife to the U.S. for a visit. Plus, it would help him provide better service to his American customers. But he isn’t allowed to visit the United States. I supposed he’s considered a threat. In spite of that, he gave his all to ensure our safety and comfort.

The next day, we attempted to leave Egypt and continue to our next destination, Bangkok. The Fly Well staff, Ahmed, Mohamed and our driver, Hussein, escorted us to the airport for our flight to Bangkok aboard Egypt Air. On the drive, we glimpsed life in Cairo. We passed vendors selling oranges and bananas from their donkey-drawn carts and men on camels. Women in their robes stood in line outside tiny markets. I was captivated by the people and their dress, particularly the men in long tunics with scarves draped around their neck.

It was smooth sailing on the roadways past rows of tanks. The curfew kept most cars off the road. Fortunately, tourists were allowed to pass through the streets accompanied by their guides. It was not, however, smooth sailing at the airport. Egypt Air was a mess – and that’s being gracious. At the last minute, they canceled all flights departing during the curfew period… or almost all flights. But they didn’t say which ones were going and which ones were not. All flights showed “canceled” on the screen,
even when flights were called for boarding
. As we were walking out the door, thinking all flights were canceled, they announced “immediate boarding” for the flight other tourists traveling with us were on. Their “canceled” flight ended up leaving three hours
early
! Mohamed literally ran with them through security to the gate and – with his help – they made their flight. We were not so lucky. We waited for hours for any information about the flight and were finally told it was canceled – really. It
might
go out the next morning. So, at 9:30 pm, we piled into the van for the drive back to the hotel – in the dark, during the curfew.

All I can say is thank goodness for Hussein – a retired military colonel who now enjoys showing tourists around his country. Because of the curfew, major roads were blocked by tanks and military personnel so that Hussein had to navigate his way along city streets and through neighborhoods. By this time in Egypt, there had been a prison break, and weapons had been stolen from the police (not the military) who abandoned their posts. Looting of museums and homes was reported. The Egyptian government advised citizens to protect themselves and their neighborhoods. They did.

Neighborhood groups patrolled local streets and guarded their homes from looters. We stopped at more than forty of these makeshift check points. It typically went like this: We drove a few yards down a local street until we came across a barricade. The barricade might be a row of soccer-ball sized rocks, an obstacle course of old logs and light poles, or just a group of men wielding bats, clubs or axes. I will confess that it was unnerving – each of the 40+ times. Mike and I sat quietly in the back, trying to look harmless and blonde.

Hussein rolled down his window, coasted to a stop, and gave a local greeting to the person who appeared to be the leader. He handed them his military card, showing his rank as colonel and his service time of twenty-seven years with the military. Their reaction was immediate. They would salute, step back, and wave us through –
like magic.
And here’s the other thing that quickly became clear– all of these people were polite, gracious and apologetic. They were not violent or vigilantes. They were regular people trying to protect themselves and their families. Many looked at me and Mike and said they were sorry but they had to check our van to ensure the safety of their families. They hoped we understood. We did – and they welcomed us to their country. I felt like I was in a one-van parade as everyone smiled and waved to us and we waved back. The atmosphere was such a contradiction. On one hand, the anxiety level was palpable, and yet there were boys playing, and old men sitting around fires drinking coffee while the younger adults watched the road. It was like a block party for the men. I experienced an internal conflict as I simultaneously felt worried and welcomed. It is this contradiction that will be one of the enduring memories of this drive. And it was a long drive. It took two and a half hours to make the normally forty-five minute trip. We arrived back at the hotel at midnight.

And we did it all again early the next morning – pulling out of the hotel the minute the curfew was lifted. Once again, chaos reigned at the airport. This time it was packed to overflowing with people and bags. We waited for our flight to be called – but to no avail. The rumor came that our flight was canceled –
again
– so we went to Plan B. The night before, my sister, Alison, found flights for us on Qatar Airlines to Bangkok, connecting through Doha. Qatar Airlines operated out of a different terminal with massive traffic congestion in between. Fly Well Travel staff were already in the other terminal and they found seats for us on the flight. Hussein drove us as close as he could, and Mohamed walked us through the streets to the terminal, weaving between traffic. We got the tickets – first class – very expensive – but it was a way out and, as it turned out, having first class seats was the only way we made our connection in Doha.

Mohamed led us to the ticketing area, literally shoved our bags over the mobs of people onto the scanning belt, and checked us in. Keep in mind, this sea of people was almost entirely Middle Eastern – flowing robes, women’s heads covered by
hajibs,
and traditional dress for men of long robes and scarves. We were an anomaly. We started our journey through the packed terminal to passport control – another sea of people packed together, shoving their way toward a customs official. Gone were the organized, serpentine lines where signs politely advise you to wait behind the yellow line. Here we faced a mass of people all shoving their way to the booth. Some held hands full of passports that they passed over the top of the booth to the official. Mohamed told us to push our way forward and keep pushing. With that, he left us. My eyes teared watching our knight in shining armor leave. We would not have gotten out of the country without Mohamed, Hussein, Amhed and Amr. They literally kept us safe and got us out. Never have I experienced such effort and dedication.

I should mention that as we sat for hours at the Cairo airport, we saw representatives from Great Britain, France, Australia, China, New Zealand and more. All were working to move their citizens out of Egypt. Notably absent was the U.S. We never – ever – saw anyone in the terminal from the U.S State Department.

It merits repeating that every single Egyptian we met was kind, polite, gracious and helpful. They insisted that we feel welcome in their country, and we did in spite of the circumstances. Mike and I were the recipients of numerous simple kindnesses – like the gentlemen who wheeled a chair to me in the airport, or the waiter who quietly asked me to please come back to his country, or the ten-year-old boy who smiled through the windows of our bus and shouted, “Hello!” in his best English. How sad it is that these people are the ones most impacted by this situation. Service staff at the hotel told us that they make barely enough to live on
with
the tourist industry. As the tourists leave in droves, these kind and polite people are the ones bearing the brunt of the economic impact. While I won’t pretend to grasp the political and social issues facing this country, I will leave with a great respect for the working people and their desire for a better life. We will watch the developments in Egypt with a deeper interest. They deserve a government that is worthy of them. We look forward to returning to see the sights, experience the rich culture, and meet our friends, Amr, Mohamed, Ahmed and Hussein again. In the meantime, we hold them in our thoughts.

As the wheels of our Qatar plane left Egyptian soil en route to Doha, we exhaled for the first time in three days. Two thoughts crossed my mind:

• Unspeakable gratitude for Amr, Mohamed, Hussein and Ahmed, and
  

• Where the heck is Doha?
  

Monday, February 7, 2011

Bangkok Sights and Massages

Sightseeing followed by a massage: That’s the prescription for our first few days in Bangkok after the turmoil in Egypt. What a pleasant change of pace – not to mention wearing shorts and sandals in February! Bangkok is like no place I’ve been– exotic, beautiful and more than a little chaotic.

We’re staying at a lovely hotel, Shangri-la, overlooking the Chao Phraya River. The hotel entrance is graced with two large, red elephants; an improvement over the tanks in Cairo. I emitted a little yelp of joy when we walked into the spacious room and saw the view. My yelp was followed by breakfast outside in the warmth and a luxurious shower. We hadn’t slept much in the last two nights or on the flight from Cairo. The shower was refreshing and energizing.

As it happened, we arrived on the first day of the three-day Chinese New Year celebration. We headed by boat to Chinatown, working on staying awake and recovering from jet lag. Chinatown is a helter-skelter area of Bangkok. Narrow alleys cut between the car-packed, exhaust-filled streets and every inch is lined with vendors. I have no idea what they were selling – most things were unrecognizable to our eyes. We identified dozens of types of dried fish, bags of puffed fried things, pickled cabbage, nuts, fruits (many types that we didn’t recognize), mushrooms, and so much more. I tried a couple of items that looked reasonably safe – some meatball thing on a stick, a chicken skewer, and a sweet, sticky rice treat cooked inside a piece of bamboo. But the odors are what I’ll remember – pungent and sweet smells of hot oil, peppers and unknown spices, sugar from sweets cooking on hot stoves, and incense mixed with exhaust. Many of the shops had family shrines set up for the New Year celebration. All the shrines were similar – several types of food like Peking duck and fruit, yellow marigolds strung together, burning incense, and folded gold paper like wreaths. We started to pick up one of the wreaths and they came running with: “No, no, no!”
Oops. So sorry.
We learned later that this was an offering to their ancestors.

On our way back, we walked past a small massage shop advertising Thai foot massage. The price was about $12 – yes, $12. We both relaxed while petite Thai girls massaged and poked our feet. It was heaven! And that’s how the pattern started… take in some sights and have a massage.

The next day was Chinese New Year – the Year of the Rabbit, which represents inspiration and family. The hotel hosted a traditional Chinese ceremony and dance. We had front-row seats… behind the government dignitaries, of course. Tiny men in elaborate costumes portrayed a lion awakening and searching for cabbage (I never knew lions liked cabbage). The dignitaries performed the “awakening” by painting the lion’s eye lids and tying pink bows on their heads. Everyone was entranced by the spectacle of color and noise – beating drums and clanging cymbals. Noise, we learned, is important for driving away evil spirits. After the dancing, long strings of fireworks hanging in the trees were set off adding even more noise. The evil spirits were definitely gone!

We took a boat to the Grand Palace the next day and were sucked into a scam. We were told that the Palace was closed for the Chinese New Year and we were diverted into a
tuk-tuk.
A
tuk-tuk
is like a motorized rickshaw that jostles through the heavy traffic between cars and buses. It cost us a grand total of $2 for three hours of touring. It may have been a scam, but it worked out fine. First stop was the Golden Mount. This had been the highest point in the city but now skyscrapers offer better views. The Golden Mount contains a Buddha image – the first of many we would see. After climbing the stairs, we gonged the gong and rang the bells before entering the chamber containing the image of the Buddha. Local people were everywhere. Paying respect to the Buddha is part of the New Year’s celebration. At the Golden Mount, monks in orange said prayers over small groups of people and sprinkled them with a small broom dipped in water. Others carefully held a small piece of white paper that contained an even smaller (1 cm) square of gold foil. People kneeled in front of the Buddha and carefully placed the gold square on the statute. The statue was covered with tiny gold squares of paper. It looked like the Buddha was made of paper maché. Others burned incense, hung small bells, or strung banners of paper money like pendants. All were different types of offerings to the Buddha. We would see more in coming days. After stops at more temples, we were back on the boat headed home – sticky with sweat and weary. Mike headed for the sauna at the hotel, and I headed back to the massage shop for a full-body massage (an extravagant $35).