The Gold It's In The...

In which I am mauled by a man brandishing floss

Before my trip to Egypt, I shaved my head. But not too short. I wanted some cover so I didn't burn my head (yes, I did bring a hat).

I did not, however, trim my beard at all. I didn't think I would have much opportunity to shave or trim my beard, and why bother? I could see how long it got. I would go native. I could command respect!

The results are most tragic.

After more than a month, I started getting fidgety with my hair. It was too long. It stood up. But not long enough to pat down. It annoyed me. It was not right. I had to get a haircut. Another month and a half of this would be too much. I needed to act.

I asked our driver, and all-around good guy, Hamam, about getting a haircut. "No problem," he says. "We go now?"

I needed it now, so let's go do it now. 

He asked another team member here to join us, a field school student. It was nice to have another opinion. And whatever this experience would be would be fun to share.

After dinner, we hopped in the car and just went for a drive. Fast down a small road in the country. Hamam kept shutting off the lights and drove in complete darkness. Just to be funny. And nearly killing a cyclist.

We get into this small town, with people hanging about drinking their tea and smoking their shisha. Just like everywhere else. He comes to a stop, looks around, then starts backing up about 50 yards. Nearly running over some more people.

He looks, and in a tiny little one room shack, or what looks like a tiny garage to me, is a man getting a shave.

"We're here." 

Uhm, are you sure? You didn't seem like you knew.

"Yes, I come here all the time."

He parks, nearly creating an accident. We get out, and walk in with everyone staring. I am used to it now.

Inside the barbershop, we sit down and watch the man get his neck shaved. Hamam and the barber make eye contact. I asked if Hamam comes to this man all the time. Hamam says yes, but they act as if they don't know each other.

When the stranger is done, Hamam goes for a haircut first, so I can see what it is like and if I want the same style. The student and I shift so we can watch him. 

At that time, a young boy of about 14 walks in, and starts sweeping all the hairs everywhere. That is a good sign. 

Then another boy of about the same walks in, sits down, and just stares at us. 

And continues staring.

And he stares.

He smiles.

While he is staring.

The boy sweeping sits down.

And he stares.

It is awkward.

I give my phone to the student (name retracted as she did not agree to be included in this posting), so she can take pictures while I am getting my hairs cut. 

She begins playing with the phone and taking her own photographs. Of Hamam. Of herself. Of the floor. Of me. 

The boys like the phone. The boys like the student. The one boy gives her a Quran. She admires it. He hands it back to her. 

Hamam's haircut is finally done. It is my turn.

I hop in. How short do I want it? Take off the beard, or leave it? How short on top? I want to shave all the way down as I normally do, but was convinced to just go down a little bit. The beard will be trimmed a lot.

The haircut goes smoothly. Comb through the head and beard. Scissors to cut everything. No lotions. No shampoos. No electronic gadgets. Just a very simple haircut.

During this, Hamam gets some tea and shisha. They drink. I sit.

I hear people laughing. At one point, I see the student posing with the two boys for a photograph. Hamam has my phone. He starts having fun with it. 

As I get the hairs cut, I close my eyes so as to not get hair in them. Hamam sneaks up when I do and takes a really close up photograph that startles me. He finds it amusing.

After a little while of hairs getting cut, the barber steps back and grabs something off his counter. 

Is that floss? What is he doing with that? Is he going to tie something? Is he going to make some sort of border? Is he a medieval barber who will also floss my teeth?

Oh, wait. He is putting the floss in his own teeth. Maybe it is for him.

Now....why is the floss going near my face? What are you doi.....

AH!!!! What the hell did he just do? Did he just pluck my face? Isn't that what a razor is for?

The group in the room laughs. The barber makes fun of me. He mocks my "Ah!" Bastard.

Hamam, of course, also finds this amusing. He has my phone, so he starts video recording the process.

In this video, you see me getting plucked. It is my first time getting plucked. It is my first getting plucked with floss. It is the first time dealing with such pain. Not grueling pain, but an annoying pain.

Hamam pans out. He captures the crowd laughing. My face in pain. The student laughing. He turns to the mirror, records himself laughing. He walks to the student, gets them both laughing at me.

In the video, you see me wince. I am turning red. Hamam comments on that. I sarcastically thank the barber. Shoukran.

Bastard.

The haircut finally comes to an end. I walk away, have my tea and some shisha. I pose with the kids. They are happy to oblige.

I ask the student if she had ever heard of this.

"Oh yeah, I get it done all the time."

And you pay for this?

This is what has been happening at beauty shops across America all this time?

I didn't even ask for this!

My face all red, my tea gone, enough laughs for a while, we leave the barbershop. I thank Hamam for the experience.

Mogamara.

The beard is now short. The hair is manageable. My face is no longer as red. The pain is gone, but not forgotten.

I don't think this is an experience I will want to replicate again.

To all the women who subject themselves to this on a weekly basis, you have my respect. Who knew such things were happening? Who the hell thought of this? Who knew sadomasochism would be such a lucrative business?

I leave you with some images from the evening.

Speed Bump

Egyptians like driving fast. There is not much to stop them from doing so. Traffic won't slow drivers down. They get out on the open road, and drive as fast as they can whenever they can. Police, from what I have seen, are not pulling people over. Drivers will even go so far as flashing police with their headlights to get them to move out of their way.

The only things that will slow the Egyptian driver are the poor state of roads (and they can be pretty bad), and the occasional or frequent speed bump.

Or speed hump.

Or speed ditch.

They are not uniform.

They are not in standardized locations.

Sometimes you will go kilometers without seeing one.

Sometimes the speed bumps will be a few meters apart.

But you will know when you come to one, as that is when you will finally see brake lights. Traffic comes to a complete stop. Cars crawl over the bump.

Occasionally the bottom of the car will be scraped. The driver carries on.

Too often these bumps will completely surprise every driver. They are hard to see, so brakes are slammed bringing the vehicle from a good 120km speed to an absolute stop in 2 seconds.

But the laws of physics still apply to everyone and everything inside.

Speed bump.

Donkeys don't care about physics. They go where the driver takes them. They share the road with cars.

Donkey carts also don't obey stop signs, if there were such a thing. Or if people would actually obey them.

The donkeys will just pull out in front of oncoming traffic and expect all cars to stop or swerve for them.

Speed bump.

On paved roads, I see lines laid out for lanes. It's nice that someone was paid to put those down, because they serve no purpose. Even on completely empty streets, cars will drift from side-to-side. Our driver has the habit of riding just on top of the line, as if it were a guide.

Speed bump.

Traffic patterns are an interesting phenomenon. Drivers will go anywhere to get where they need to go. Even if it means driving the wrong way down a busy highway.

Or crossing over three lanes to get over the speed bump faster. Even if it means going against traffic.

Or making a U-turn from the right-hand lane without any signaling. Or stopping. Or looking. When that right lane is still five cars deep.

Speed bump.

Throughout Egypt, I have noticed car owners have covers for their dashes and back windshields. I have not seen many actual dashes in cars. Our driver has a rubber cover. I am sure it is to protect against sand (it is everywhere, in case the reader was not aware). Others have faux fur (or real fur?). Back windshield and front. Occasionally, I have seen many cars use plush centipedes instead. Colorful, cartoony centipedes. More so in Alexandria than Cairo, but it appears to be a popular gift for the Egyptian driver.

Speed bump.

The scariest part of being on the roads in Egypt is the thought of driving at night. There are nary any street lights anywhere. The speed bumps are not signed or marked in any manner. Drivers still go fast. They still make their own traffic laws. They drive where they can. They drive as fast as they want.

And there is this prevailing thought that headlights will drain the car battery.

In the middle of the night, on a dark desert highway, you will not see a car until it is right in front of you. Either driver will flash their lights for a millisecond, then turn them off. Just to show the other driver they exist.

And then they go back to complete darkness.

While still driving 150km/hour.

No matter the size of the road, or obstacles that may appear. Headlights are optional, and Egyptian drivers do not opt for them.

It's more jarring when a motorcycle speeds in front of a moving car, also without headlights.

Speed bump.

I was recently on the road driving from Cairo back to Fayum. As I was riding along, I looked at the cars passing by. Many cars in the area are covered with decals. There seem to be many Apple fans. And I am guessing some of those car manufacturer decals are on vehicles not made by those companies.

A small red car passed mine, and I noticed two stickers on the right side.

One was a Heath Ledger Joker decal. Black and white. Had an English quote on it (not “Why so serious?”).

Along the bottom of the side was written the word “Playboy.”

The back windshield had a giant fiery skull. Inside the skull were the words “Break” and “Skull.”

Clearly this person is sending a very particular message to all on the road. Punched home by the final visible decal.

“Baskin-Robbins.”

Speed bump.

Though Egyptians rarely use their headlights, they are fond of using their horns. Weak as they may be, they are a little “hello” from each driver telling others he is there. Or passing. Or forcing them to the side so they can be passed. Or one of the other thousand reasons to use the horn. Eventually, the highway is a cacophony of beeping horns. Rendering them moot. But never mute.

Speed bump.

“Close your eyes and pray to Allah!”

Those were the words given to me by the Egyptian Museum staff member who took me through the city.

And the suggestion for crossing the street.

And everyone here follows that same thinking.

Even with speeding vehicles.

Even with speeding vehicles with no headlights.

Even with speeding vehicles with no headlights coming from all directions.

Even with speeding vehicles with no headlights coming from all directions on an unlit highway.

Speed bump.

Merging traffic doesn't so much merge as it barrels through.

Speed bump.

That Egyptians don't get the sense of lanes and traffic flow is not surprising. This happens in many countries. But added to the fact that headlights are not used either makes for some scary trips. One moment you are driving down a very narrow two lane road. The next, four sets of headlights flash before you. All next to each other. Driving at 150km. Right towards you.

And you cannot be sure their lights will be on the entire time they speed towards you.

Speed bump.

Mogamara

Part of the excitement of traveling is learning new customs and eating new foods. Along with that comes the addition of new words and phrases from the host country. If enough time is spent, the list of new vocabulary words increases exponentially. Eventually, words can be combined into phrases, and with enough practice, phrases will become coherent sentences.

I was worried that with my limited experience trying to learn new languages, I would have a tough time during this trip. I imagined I would pick up a few words, but nothing helpful. "Thank you." "No." "Yes." Simple words.

But on the contrary, I have learned much more than that. Most of them coming in the past four days.

I learned an important word this weekend.

These last few days the excavation has been on vacation. It is eid, and everyone goes on vacation. Because we are in a predominantly Muslim nation, our work also ceases. We do employ many Egyptians, and they get the time off. Without them, we cannot do our own work, so let's all have a few days off.

Our director decided to spend the vacation in a more meaningful way, not just slacking around the house doing nothing. Or letting each of us to plan our own trip and go off alone. Instead, we were given the choice to take a bus to the site of Amarna, an important new kingdom location. I am not an Egyptologist, so I knew less about this place than everyone else on the team, but I was still excited to go.

Early Thursday morning, October 25, we all boarded a chartered bus. And we took off. We had our eyes set on Minya, a city near the site of Amarna. But first, we had a small detour.

Beni Hassan.

Carved into the mountain side are a series of tombs constructed in the Middle Kingdom. They are absolutely gorgeous inside. We climbed the steep stairs in the hot sun, and climbed into tombs that were beautifully carved inside. Most of the tombs still exist intact. Some sections are missing. Some columns are no longer there. There are some ceiling decorations.

Unfortunately, we were closely watched, so I was not able to take any photographs inside the tombs. But a simple Google search will send the reader to better images than I could take of the wrestlers, the animals, the people depicted.

Fortunately, I am surrounded by Egyptologists who know a thing or two. I was able to ask questions and listen in on others' questions and learn more about the site, what it meant and why it was done in particular ways. Why that motif? Why that thing? What are they doing there?

Some questions they had answers to. Some they did not. So it goes.

After this trip, we rode off to Minya, found our hotel, and relaxed for the evening. First stop, the pool. It had  been a long time since I swam. It was not hot anymore at night, and the water was cold. But it felt good. I stayed there until dinner time, where the bus driver tried to friend a few of us and taught me a few words. And had a beer with me.

After dinner, I posed for a picture. The hotel staff yelled at me for it. I don't understand their gripe.

The next day we had more planned. On the bus again and we rode off through small towns on our way to Amarna. We got lost, but it made for an entertaining journey. Teenage boys danced for us when we were stuck. I danced back. They were embarrassed, and stopped dancing. 

We rode the bus onto a ferry. I posed like the Karate Kid. Our police escorts did a fabulous job of warding off the children who wanted to chat with us. They still harassed us. 

Finally at the site, I met an Argentinian and Spaniard and Brazilian who were attending the field school. I countered with my Peruvian (not a real Peruvian), a Mexican (who struggles with the Spanish language), and the Chilean. They told me about their work. A teammate posed as different column types.

Again on the bus, we finally arrived at Amarna, a New Kingdom site that is unlike all others. It was where Nefertiti's bust was found. There were more tombs to explore.

We walked across a desert, a few times. We entered more tombs. I had my lunch on the desert floor in front of our bus.

Here I do my best job getting thousands of year old dust on my shirt

The tombs at Amarna are also amazing. Wonderful columns inside. Some great preservation. Crypts to enter and climb down. Bats to meet and have fly past my head. Security to avoid in order to take pictures.

We did not enter every tomb, but enough to be impressed. But our day was not done.

We crossed the desert. A nice leisurely walk.

I was introduced to the Egyptian symbol for horizon. And why this location may have been (or was) important.

We saw the worker's town. Small houses, all square. All facing the same direction. With no water except for what was brought in on donkeys. They had pigs. And made textiles. Sounded more like the projects or trailer park than anything great.

Across more desert, to the main site. 

Dr. Hans points to where the Nefertiti bust was found.

Dr. Hans and Dr. Willeke re-enact the finding of the Nefertiti bust.

During our long walk, we lost a member of the group to either heat exhaustion or food poisoning or something. But she was not on our project, so we moved on.

At the end, I saw the temple area.

Very sweaty, we board the bus. Time to go back to the hotel for a swim.

But that was not in the cards for me. We return to the Amarna camp, to drop off two people and me. While the rest of the group would go to the hotel, and have more planned for the next day, I had an adventure waiting for me. One team member had business to do in the south. She invited her one friend, and I somehow was also invited along. Not one to refuse an adventure, I gladly tagged along.

We waited at the Amarna camp where I chatted a long time with the excavation photographer. He even showed me his dirigible for aerial photography. He gave us a tour of their spectacular house.

Towards the end of the evening, just before he broke out the gin, our next ride appeared. The two team members and I, plus their friend, and a driver, piled into a small car. Cramped in the back seat, we rode off to Dar Salam, near Sohaag.

Four to five long hours.

We spoke.

I looked out the window.

I took some photographs.

I learned some new words. I sat still for a long time.

It was all part of the adventure. On some really horrible roads.

That night, we arrived in our host's hometown. He was accosted by his close friends, a family of Copts. They loved him. They learned to love Jennifer (true name hidden as she is not aware she is being spoken about). They ignored me. Either I was not Christian enough for them, or not fluent in Arabic enough, or not young and female enough. But they were loud and boisterous. 

Our night ended at our host's home. He saw his brothers and his mother and his sister and the goats and sheep and chickens and geese. They tried speaking to me and being great hosts. After a while, I opened up and had a good time with them. Then I was told it was past 1am, and we all had to get to sleep.

I was happy to have a place to sleep. 

My hosts were great, and every single one of them treated me nicely. They fed me. I bathed. I slept. They did more.

The next morning the neighborhood children descended upon me. "What's your name?" (the first English sentence any good Egyptian child learns). "Do you watch WWE?" "What is your mobile number? Can I have it?" "Take my picture!" "Now I sit so close to you I am on your lap." "What is it you are writing in your journal? Nevermind, I will stick my face in it and read it myself."

But the children taught me a lot of words. I learned more words in two days than I have in four weeks here. To them, and my hosts, I owe so much.

We eased into the day, then made our way to Abydos (three of us plus two of our hosts). 

We started by jumping on the back of a pick up truck. 

In town, we got into a cab that took us to the ferry.

But we opted for no ferry. Instead, we hired a rowboat to take us across.

A rowboat....to cross the Nile River.

We were surprised the boat did not sink. We were surprised we weren't drinking the water. We were disgusted when one of them did.

We were even more disturbed when on the other bank, we saw men paint their boats, and throw their paint cans and lids into the river.

Our next leg of the journey found us on mini-taxis (three-wheeled covered wagons). A quick ride to the bigger taxis.

Eventually we did manage to Abydos. And an amazing site it is. Just the temple of Seti is amazing.

The preservation at the site is tremendous. The amount of material to look at just there is enough to keep a body busy for years. But we had to see more. Most of it is not accessible to visitors, but one of the people I traveled with had a friend on site, so we got to see more of it. Out of respect to them and their ongoing work, I will not post pictures of their site. But I will post pictures of the surrounding view and other buildings at the site.

We crossed more deserts. We walked a long way. I suffered from dehydration. The views were breath-taking.

A whole day was spent at the site. We walked out, grabbed a taxi and made off to Sohaag. Two of us had to get to Cairo, but had no plans to do so. At Sohaag, we find that no trains will be leaving the town for over a week. Our options became either hiring a car, which is about 8 hours driving, or fly. Phone calls were made, Internet was checked, we had some trouble. But we still planned for the next day. The adventure was still not over.

Early Sunday morning, the two of us leaving made off with one of our hosts and his nephew. From car to micro-bus to taxis to more buses, we wind up in Dandara, home to a Ptolemaic temple.

Again, the levels of preservation were astounding.

What was supposed to be an hour turned into 2-3. I don't even know how long we were there, but it was a long time and worth it. We got to the roof. We went into the "crypts." We saw every room. We saw the ancient Zodiac chart.

Again, this is another site we could spend years in, but we had hosts who needed to eat and eventually get home. So we go into Qena, find food, find microbuses (even one that wouldn't take foreigners but wound up taking us anyways), and go our separate ways.

Next stop, Luxor.

While at Dandara, we find a flight to Cairo from Luxor. We have a way home. Or more importantly, a way back to work.

An hour or so is spent in Luxor. We do not go into the temple, but walk around it. Along the way we run into an Irishman who offers the advice to trust no one. We obliged.

With time to kill, and carriage drivers to avoid, we walk into a McDonald's (at my teammate's request).

For anyone wondering what I do, McDonald's has it represented pretty well

After an hour there, we negotiate our way to the airport, catch our flight and get to Cairo.

My adventure is not done yet. Tomorrow, after I eventually get some sleep, I will catch a ride to Fayum. I have a driver, and it may be a straight shot with an uneventful story. So be it. But something interesting could come of it. I just ride the wave and see where it takes me, what it shows me. It is all part of my adventure. A collection of stories I will someday share with friends and family.