Bahariya to Kharga

Cairo Journal October 4, 2008 teacherai@hotmail.com

Well! I am back in Cairo and what a trip! As I mentioned, I signed up with the Arabic Language Institute for a four day trip through the oases of the Western Desert. After the marathon bus trip to and from Siwa Oasis last spring, I swore I would never take another bus trip, but we had a four day holiday, and the appeal to visit the oases was strong, so I joined the group at 7 a.m. Tuesday morning and set off for Bahariya oasis—about 350 kilos southwest of Cairo.

Our holiday from classes was for the Eid al Fitr. The Eid al Fitr is the three day feast that ends the month of Ramadan, the 28 days of sunrise to sunset fasting. In the Middle East, the Eid al Fitr began on Tuesday, and just after midnight on Tuesday, friends in Yemen and Saudi Arabia sent Happy Eid phone messages. The end of Ramadan is a raucous time in Muslim communities, but I had not heard anything special out on the streets of Cairo, so when I got to the bus, I asked a Muslim friend if Ramadan had ended and the Eid begun. NO! Not in Egypt! Although Ramadan and the Eid are based on the lunar calendar, the Eid does not begin until the sheikh sees the thinnest sliver of the crescent moon. I tend to believe that the moon can be counted on to maintain its schedule whether or not I see it, but here, it is not assumed that any thing definitely will happen. If God wills, it will happen; if not, well... So, the end of Ramadan should be confirmed by a visual sighting of the crescent moon, and if it is not seen, the calendar is used. The calendar confirms by dint of numbers that the lunar month has indeed ended and thus the extra day, just to be sure, here in Cairo. I hope my Muslim friends will feel free to correct any of my misunderstandings. At any rate, my friend’s slightly aggravated response was, “Of course he could not see the moon. No one can see that sliver of the moon in Cairo because of the pollution, so we have to go by the calendar!” We had a wry laugh over the situation, and our Muslim travelers had to spend the day in the desert without even a sip of water.

The oases of Egypt, naturally, since aside from the occasional well there is no water anywhere, are sites of ancient communities. Only a few years ago, near the Bahariya oasis, a donkey discovered a cemetery filled with ‘golden mummies.’ The donkey’s owner got the credit for the discovery of what would come to be called the Cemetery of the Golden Mummies because he called the local archaeologist who called the director of the Supreme Council of Antiquities, Zahi Hawass. The cemetery was partially excavated and the few mummies in good condition were moved to museums. Their face masks were painted with gold, thus the name, and we saw several adult mummies, one child mummy and an infant mummy. No photos were allowed. Egypt is so rich in ancient artifacts that they can not all be properly housed. The Museum of the Golden Mummies was a desolate building—judging from the outside it could have been a tire warehouse or a small factory. Inside, the mummies were in glass cases but without temperature or humidity control and the windows, high in the wall, were partially covered with plastic that flapped and drooped with age. We also visited two painted tombs—just up a mound from a poor community of mud brick houses. The striking reality of a modern community existing at the foot of the tombs felt all wrong.

The town was poor, but the green of the oasis was refreshing. I love the desert, but the truth is, the desert is hot and dry, and if you do not have a strong support system, the desert will be the death of you. (Photos attached, maybe.)

On Wednesday morning the plan was to send the bus down the road about a hundred kilometers while our group divided into nine 4-wheel drive vehicles for our 'on' and 'off' road adventure into the deserts. We set off to Farafra Oasis via the Black Desert, the Crystal Desert and finally the White Desert. The Black Desert (maybe a photo attached) is colored by iron pyrite pebbles which have eroded from the tops of rock formations. On the hills, the slopes alternate between sand and black ribs. Very interesting. I picked up dense iron pyrite nodules and calcite crystals along with a dozen other colorful fragments which will be my souvenirs of the trip.[Correction: It has been explained to me that the black stones are not pyrite but are clusters of calcite crystals that have blackened by chemical reactions--by desert 'varnish.']

Then the real adventure began. One of the jeeps stalled in the road, a second jeep stopped to see what was wrong. The jeep I was riding in swerved to miss the first two, but the jeep behind us plowed into the second jeep forcing it into the back of my jeep and I don’t know what happened after that. Seven of the nine jeeps were involved; two had to be left on the roadside. The woman who organized the trip received the worst injuries—cuts and bruises and a sore jaw. Another woman was cut by flying glass, and another woman’s back was twisted. I was thrown against the back of my jeep but just have some sore spots on my body. Golly. What a mess. We were all milling around trying to recall the sequence, but none of us could recall the order of the collisions. We had no phone signals and could not call anyone. Incredibly, after about an hour, a car came and inside the car was a doctor! He looked at the injured—there were six—and found that the injuries were relatively minor. After some time the bus appeared, but the injured would not give up the desert trip so we all divided up into the remaining seven jeeps and took off again. I swear those Egyptian women are tough.

We journeyed on through the White Desert—weird formations of white limestone [chalk] carved by the wind and blowing sand. It was beautiful, and I could have spent days wondering through the White Desert. I took scores of photographs, but they can not show the smooth trackless silence.

(This address might have photos of the trip, but who knows. I am working with dial up internet which makes loading photos very slow, and in the end I am not sure what has been accomplished. http://picasaweb.google.com/janetadams/FromBahariyaToFarafra#) Note: I just opened this site and indeed the photos are there, but all of the oases photos, when clicked on and enlarged, are fuzzy. So you can view the small version, or wait until I reload the photos in a different size.

We drove on and arrived in Farafra oasis but there hit a snag. The university wanted an accident report filed but the police would not file a report without medical checkups. The bus dumped us at the only open teahouse in the village—this was Wednesday, finally the first day of the Eid, and everything else was closed. The poor victims went off for three hours of bureaucratic trials. The teahouse had plenty of tea but only three bottles of water! And those three bottles were recycled—one was an orange Fanta bottle—and filled with tap water. During the aftermath of the accident, we had milled around on the road and most of us had finished, or nearly finished our water supplies. The man at the teahouse called a friend with a car and the friend brought a couple bottles of water. When they realized they needed a lot more water, the driver went to the car but the car wouldn’t start. Several men pushed the car to get it going, and off the driver went to search for water. He returned with one case of water which only began to satisfy the 36 of us and quickly sold. The men again push-started the car, and the driver eventually returned with several cases of water. The men at the teahouse have probably never had a more entertaining three hours. We became passing friends, shared photos, gave English lessons, received Arabic lessons. After that final run for water, we had enough for the next leg—on to Dakhla Oasis. The men from the teahouse stood at the roadside waving as we left. We arrived in Dakhla almost six hours late. The hotel spread the buffet out again, we ate, and slept.

But that is enough of my holiday. The trip really was wonderful—the deserts, the Hot spring of Mut, the Temples of Amun, the fantastic Christian Necropolis of El Bagawat, the beautiful pastels of oasis villages, the pleasing color contrasts between deserts and fields.

But nothing in Egypt is simple. We left El Kharga oasis on Friday morning to return to Cairo—a nine hour bus trip. Tourists are kept track of in Egypt, and tourist busses, in fact all vehicles to a degree, are very carefully tracked. On the long journey home, we were made to stop at every checkpoint to show papers and tell where we had been and where we were going. There were checkpoints about every half hour. When we finally we reached the southern edge of the Fayoum road to Cairo, we were told that now that night had fallen, we were not allowed to continue on this road. This road carried all the produce vehicles pouring overnight into Cairo; the road itself was unsafe; the drivers were crazy. After an hour of roadside waiting, we were permitted to travel on the Fayoum produce road—with police escort fore and aft. Policemen are dispensable; tourists are not.

I will try to attach at least three photos: jeeps, the White Desert and the tea house. There is much to see in Egypt and the only major sights I have not visited are the ones below Luxor. I will try to get to Aswan before leaving the country. I am already investigating new jobs for next year--perhaps something in Central Asia. As Aaron said, “Mom, do you know that you are the nosiest person on earth?” Yes, indeed, and I am happy for it.

Very best,
Janet