A memoir of Egypt

Author: Ahmad Faruqui

I arrived in Cairo (Al Qahira, the victorious) in November 1996, very conscious of the history that awaited. I was looking forward to visiting the only surviving member of the seven ancient wonders of the world, the pyramids of Giza.

I reached out to one of the several Egyptians who had attended a three-month course in San Francisco the prior year. He invited me to have dinner at a friend’s place who had also attended the same course.

He came to pick me up from my hotel which was located in the middle of the River Nile. The autumnal sun had gone down and the skyhad turned dark. We began walking to a bus stop to board a van. Along the way we passed by the Opera House. Its presence in a Muslim country surprised me. Years later I would learn that Puccini’s opera, Aida, had first been performed there.

On Sunday I visited the pyramids at Giza. They were much bigger than I had imagined. They even made the sphinx, which was constructed much later, look tiny. Colourfully decorated camels sat near the pyramids, waiting for riders

In the van, I took a seat next to the driver. There was something unusual about the dashboard. The radio was missing, perhaps snatched away. The door to my right didn’t close completely. I had to hold it the whole time. Of course, there were no seat belts. It was a circus act.

When we reached our destination, my friend said we would have to cross the divided expressway. There were no crosswalks. I froze. Without asking, he dragged me over to the other side with the cars going around us. Then we started walking toward the other friend’s house.

In the dark alley, a pack of dogs was coming toward us in a triangular formation. Thankfully they went past us. Behind them was a young boy carrying a stick. Perhaps he was herding them. A very pleasant dinner followed, with reminisces of San Francisco’s Golden Gate Bridge.

On SaturdayI visited the grave of the Shah of Iran. It was located in the old part of Cairo at the back of a mosque made of adobe bricks. King Farouk’s grave was nearby. One would have been hard pressed to conclude that the modest graves contained royal remains.

On Sunday I visited the pyramids at Giza. They were much bigger than I had imagined. They even made the sphinx, which was constructed much later, look tiny. Colourfully decorated camels sat near the pyramids, waiting for riders.

I decided to take a picture of the camels. Suddenly, one of the camel drivers picked me up and seated me on his camel. The camel began to stand, first in the front and then in the back. It brought back the terrible fears of falling that had been triggered during my first ride on the beaches of Karachi and which would recur on every subsequent ride. I yelled, “Put me down.” He took my camera and shot some pictures of me. Then he asked the camel to sit down. Payment was expected and made.

Later, I toured the ruins at Memphis. It was a city made of sand. Afterwards, I visited the Al-Azhar mosque. I was told the Pakistani carpets on the floor with the Bokhara pattern had been donated by General Zia. The next day I visited the mosque of Muhammad Ali which provides a commanding view of Cairo. On the way over to the mosque we had driven past Salahuddin’s aqueduct. It ran above the road, like the Roman aqueducts.

I went to Alexandriato attend an electricity conference which was focused on building a “ring around the Mediterranean.” The venue was the storied King Farouk Palace. There were several women in attendance, unlike the missing women at similar conferences in Saudi Arabia. Half of the Egyptian women were wearing the hijab but they were friends with those who without the hijab.

No Israelis were there. I asked over dinner how the electric ring would be completed without Israeli participation. They said Israelwould have to first give freedom to the Palestinians. I said that’s not happening anytime soon. They agreed.

Then the belly dancers appeared on the stage. I took my leave. The next day I was told that the professors at Al Azhar had sanctioned belly dancing; thus it was not uncommon to even see women in hijab watching it.

During the following weekend, I decided to visit the mosque of Amr ibn-al-Aas, the Muslim general who had brought Islam to Egypt. I was accosted by a stranger who turned into an unsolicited guide. He walked me around the mosque, including a dry well inhabited with cats. I had not wanted to go there since broken bricks littered the floor and we were barefoot.

In the courtyard, he took some pictures of me. As the tour came to a close, he introduced me to the imam and asked him to pray for my good health. He did and I paid him and the guide.

I also visited the Imam Shafi mosque. Worshippers were making the ‘tawaaf around his grave.That would be a capital offense at the mosque in Madina which I had visited two years prior.

Later, I visited the Museum of Antiquities which housed the remains of Rameses II. I asked the guard if he was the pharaoh of the Quran. Yes, he said. That pharaoh had been featured in the movie, ‘Ten Commandments’. The poet Shelly had written Ozymandias inspired by the arrival of a statue of Rameses II at the British Museum.

‘My name is Ozymandias, king of kings;

Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!’

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare

The lone and level sands stretch far away

One day there was a caricature of the Israeli prime minister in the paper. He had authorised the digging of a tunnel underneath the holy mosque in Jerusalem. I was told Israeli tourists had stopped coming to Egypt for fear of their lives.

At the airport, the immigration officer reading my boarding card concluded that I was a doctor. He showed me his eyes and the drops he was putting in them. He asked if they were the right medicine. I did not want to tell him my doctorate was in economics because that would have led to a needless discussion. So I simply said yes and was allowed to board the aircraft.

The memories of this trip were so amazing that I returned with my family in 2009. They simply loved it. If we go again, we will make it a point to see the colossal statues of Rameses II and be reminded that all glory is fleeting.

Published in Daily Times, December 24th 2018.

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