Luxor, Egypt

Wednesday, May 25, 2005:

Before visiting the massive temple complex of Karnak, I made a couple of semi-psychic predictions that would awe and impress.

Meeting KC in the crumbling husk of the Wena Luxor Hotel's gigantic main lobby, we went over our plans for the day. KC had written to a friend back home who happened to be a doctor/medical resident. The e-mail specified the problematic medical details of KC's unspecified medical problem. Although KC's symptoms had persisted for less than two days and she had been able to move about sufficiently to visit the Temple of Isis at Philae, the medical resident friend had e-mailed urgently back to suggest/demand that KC visit a hospital ASAP because --- gosh, golly --- she seemed to be suffering from symptoms of dysentary/typhoid/e-coli! Get your ass to the hospital! was the gist of the doctor's advice. Calm your ass down was mine (though I kept it to myself).

Thus, KC didn't want to head to Karnak until she had visited the hospital. I knew that this visit would accomplish nothing but possibly end in hilarity, so I offered to go along with her. However, she declined and let me off the hook. We agreed to meet back in the lobby in several hours. I had a pretty good idea of what would happen and didn't feel the need to see it happen --- though I was looking forward to getting the scoop later on.

As we were getting ready to leave, KC wondered aloud about the Luxor Wena's swimming pool. The Lonely Planet guide indicated that the hotel did indeed have a pool. "What are the chances it even has any water in it?" I asked. We approached the reception desk and asked where the pool was. The man pointed the way without a word and we wandered down to the end of the lobby, through a corridor and out the door into a scorching, unshaded courtyard. There was the Luxor Wena's swimming pool --- bone dry and filthy. A beaten, battered wreck of an old piano stood nearby. If it could speak it would have said "Please! Kill me now."

We split up. I went to do some e-mailing and generally get harassed by horse-and-cart men. The thing about Luxor is that it is the absolute hassle capital of Egypt, if not a contender for hassle capital of the world. Everywhere you go you have people lining up to try to get you to buy a slew of things you don't want, don't need, didn't even know people actually paid money for --- some of this experience can actually be enlightening. The tacky tourist garbage is an obvious heavy component to the goods and services on offer, but Luxor is also filled with dozens and dozens of guys who offer --- no! demand --- to take you on horse and cart rides around the city. They generally don't charge much, but the problem is that they are everywhere and maddeningly persistent in their efforts to pick you up. The notion that you actually want to walk is beyond some of them and, sadly, a good number of them do not treat their horses very well, which just contributed to my reluctance to give them any business.

A typical encounter with one of these guys (and don't get me wrong, a minority will actually give up after you say "no" three times politely) goes something like this:

[You are walking down the street when you hear a clippity-cloppity noise behind you. If you haven't already been hit up by these guys you think, what's that noise? If you have already been hit up by these guys (you've been in Luxor more than 5 minutes), you think, oh shit, not again, that makes 7 of them in the last 4 minutes.]

"Hello my friend!"

"Hello" [Silent agony.]

"You want horse and carriage ride? Good price, good price for you."

"No thank you."

"You know how much?!" [I am not lying to you here: 99% of the replies are "you know how much?!" There must be a manual somewhere.]

"Not interested, but thank you." [You are still walking, the cart is following you or alongside you.]

"Five pounds! Only five pounds."

"Thanks but no." [Still walking.]

"Ok, for you, three pounds!" [Still following you.]

"No, no, just not interested, thanks."

At this point, you might actually get off. But I had a few guys who
persisted in following me for blocks until I grew red in the face. Generally, I had to be polite and cheery because (a) this actually gets them off of you faster than getting angry and, more importantly, (b) you really will have to deal with 6, 7, 8, 12, 15 of these guys within the span of a 5 or 10 minute walk down the street. The truly aggravating part is that you will sometimes walk by 15 or 20 of these guys lolling around with their horses and carts on a corner. One guy will ask you if you want a ride, you will decline, and then the next guy and the next guy and the next guy will take a stab, even though they just saw you decline a ride for 1 pound.

Yeah, so I figured no account of Luxor would be complete without that information --- and it wouldn't. Assume in the future that any walking I do around the city involves an encounter with about 6 to 20 of these guys, plus vendors trying to sell you "authentic" treasures of the orient. You'll never feel unloved as a tourist in Luxor, trust me.

When I met KC a few hours later I finally got the scoop. Urgently admitted past, say, one hundred to two hundred waiting Egyptians, the language barrier quickly became evident. The hospital staff was eager to treat this western woman in distress but unable to communicate effectively. Finally an anaesthesiologist was dragged up from the depths. His English was limited but infinitely better than that of the rest of the bunch. KC told him the problem. "I am anaesthesiologist," said the anaesthesiologist. "I can anaesthetize you if you want." Oh yes please! But it didn't happen. Somebody else came along, a female doctor with some knowledge of English. After a fifteen minute conversation, her medical opinion was rendered: Go get some anti-diarrhoea pills. Meanwhile (the way it plays in my imagination, anyway) some severely ill and as-of-yet untreated Egyptian man keels over in the emergency waiting room.

"I can't believe they couldn't do anything," I said sympathetically.

"I think I'm doing much better," KC remarked. And I was genuinely glad to hear that the typhoid had passed and we could get on with the show.

So we did. We sprung for a cab to take us five minutes up the road to the massive, sprawling, baffling complex of temples, shrines, statues and monuments that comprise Karnak. Dating back over 3,200 years and added to by a succession of pharaohs over a period of more than 1,200 years, it is a series of ancient temples and a maze of ruined pillars, obelisks, and mammoth statues (of kings and queens and mythological animals). There is a sacred ceremonial lake and a chamber with over 100 hieroglyphic-covered columns that stretch far overhead to where the ceiling once stood. Its a tricky place to describe so I suggest this link for a quick impression of the place: http://interoz.com/egypt/karnak.htm.

Back at the Luxor Wena I had to struggle to find my room in the pitch black darkness, as the lights in the hallway had by then completely blown out and the maintenance being what it was (KC had asked if they had toilet paper and waited an hour for them to go out to buy some), I thought it would be weeks before new bulbs were put in. The Wena was a shambles of its old self --- spectacularly, shockingly, at times downright amusingly decrepit and broken down. Not entirely unlike Karnak. My last prediction of the day? I would be checking into a new hotel in the morning.