Aswan, Egypt

Monday (evening), May 23, 2005:

Right.

So.

Ahem.

While at the Temples of Ramses at Abu Simbel KC came down with a rather unpleasant medical problem of sorts. Since it would be somewhat cruel and embarassing to say just exactly what this medical problem was, I will refrain from doing so. I'll just refer to it as an unspecified medical problem involving the letter "d" and a lot of time spent on a toilet. That's the considerate kind of guy that I am.

Anyway, upon returning to Abu Simbel, I was pretty much wiped out from the early 3 AM start. I took a nap, then wandered around a little and killed some time on the internet working on the blog (since I wouldn't want to fall nearly a month-and-a-half behind or anything). At about 7 PM I went to see if KC was up and about or still laid up with her unspecified medical problem involving the letter "d" and a lot of time spent on a toilet. She was. I had brought her some food earlier anyway (that's the kind of considerate guy I am) and she didn't think that any more would be a very good idea.

Off I went to eat, perhaps to see if I too could pick up any unspecified medical problems. I picked another barge on the Nile, this one almost directly next to the one I had eaten at the day before. I picked a table on the far end, the one closest to the water, ordered some kebobs, and opened up my book to get a little reading done. But that didn't happen.

"Hey" called a voice from the next table. "Hey!"

I looked over. Three Egyptian men a couple of feet away were looking at me intently. One of them, a tall Nubian man in flowing gray robes, was waving his hand at me.

"What are you doing by yourself?" he asked. "Come! Join us. Come on."

"Well..." I began, but he insisted. The two other men nodded and beckoned with their hands. Alright, what the hell, I thought. I got up and went over to their table, sitting in the one free chair.

Introductions were made. The Nubian man was Orabi, an engineer from Aswan who, it turned out, did a great deal of travelling throughout Europe and the middle east. Had he been to America? No. But he had been to Canada to visit an uncle in Ottawa. He didn't like it --- it was far too cold there. The other two men, Arab, somewhere in their 40s, did not speak English, other than "nice to meet you" and "welcome." One was a teacher, the other an assistant to an Aswani judge. As for Orabi, I guessed he was in his middle or late 30s.

After trading names, Orabi ordered me a beer. Then he offered me one of his cigarettes --- all three men were drinking beer and smoking. I declined the cigarette, saying I had recently quit smoking. The men muttered to each other in Arabic, then Orabi announced that he would order me a sheesha pipe instead. "No," I said, "I'll take a cigarette, thanks." I've had sheeshas and they're basically the equivalent of chain-smoking for 45 minutes straight. The cigarette choice seemed healthier.

I talked mainly with Orabi, but Orabi translated comments made by his friends. As time went by, various local men came in, spotted Orabi and his group, and came over to talk. Some spoke a little English but most didn't. They were all friendly, however --- generously, insistently friendly. Each time I finished a beer, a different person insisted that I accept another beer from them (How could I refuse? It would be personal). Each time I finished a cigarette somebody else gave me another one. At one point a guy came in with a bottle of cologne and began spraying each of his friends with the bottle --- I declined a spray here, finding the whole thing about as foreign as could be.

After a while I was decidedly happy. That was probably somewhere on beer #5 an cigarette #7. I had only slept for an hour after getting back from Abu Simbel, so I was somewhat sleep-deprived, which didn't help my tolerance. No matter what I did, I always had a new beer and cigarette in front of me before I could register any protest. These were the drinkingest, smokingest Egyptians I'd even seen.

"Come, come," said Orabi after an hour or so. He got up and grabbed my hand. Leading me along he explained that his cousin was on the next barge and that we had to go visit. So, at the Full Moon barge where I had eaten the day before I found a group of Orabis friends and family as well as four Dutch girls on a package tour who had somehow found themselves the center of attention of the local men. I sat for a while and talked with one Aswani who didn't speak English but did speak a fair amount of Spanish. Then a bunch of the men broke out instruments (guitars, drums, things I cannot name) and began to play. A bunch of the men started to dance with one another. I took shelter from invitations to join in by sitting with the Dutch girls.

After a while, Orabi wanted me to head back to the other barge with him. At this point I explained that I needed to finally get back to my hotel to check on my friend (with an unspecified medical problem). Orabi was reluctant but finally accepted my explanation (I'd been dropping hints for the last hour and then some in order to give myself a window out). He gave me his cell phone number and e-mail address and offered to show me around a number of sites in the area whenever I was ready to see them. In fact, he insisted I call him the next day. I was tired and drunk enough to fall over at that point, so agreed without protest, although I actually planned to leave Aswan by the next evening.

Back at the hotel, KC wasn't doing much better. But she found my story amusing enough.

"Friendly aren't they?"

"Yeah," I said, trying to hold myself steady in the doorframe. "Almost violently so."