Culture Shock Is The Right Term

When I woke up a few days ago, I realized that I would be going to two new continents this week (Africa and Asia). Maybe that's when the culture shock initially set in. Regardless, this is when things get interesting. My entries might become more long-winded because of the new (over) stimulation and subjects to write about. A walk across the street provides enough material for five pages alone, but I will stick to the highlights.

A different world emerged when I stepped onto the Egypt Air flight. All of the signs were now in Arabic and English as they would be in Cairo. The safety video was further proof of the transition: it showed a man extinguishing a cigarette before putting on the oxygen mask for an emergency. Kansas couldn't have been further away.

Throughout the flight, I prepared for the imminent shock. My travel bible, 'The Practical Nomad,' had stated that other cultures are not uncivilized, just different and that we need to respect these differences. (This is something I've had to remind myself of every few minutes during the past three days.) Exiting the plane, I started shaking when a realization came over me: I was a lone American woman in the Middle f***ing East. For a few minutes, I cursed my own hubris and wondered what the hell I was thinking when I included Cairo on my itinerary. I had to regain my composure to have my passport checked. The Egyptian official threw it back at me, but a nice airport guide put me at ease. He started with the now familiar phrase: 'Welcome to Egypt.'

I booked five nights in a mid-range hotel ($9 a night) and had called ahead for a driver to pick me up. Ahmed held up a sign with my name in English and Arabic and was mixed in with the throng of people outside of the airport. In broken English, he explained that he could show me around for the five days and ensure my safety. I was open, but skeptical of his generosity. (Beneath my naivete and optimism, there are layers of sarcasm, skepticism and street smarts. Those qualities have become my saving grace time and again in Cairo.) The considerable culture shock was taking effect quickly as I watched the disorder of the streets. Basically, there are no lanes, lights, seat belts, people hang out of buses and cars, kids sit wherever and cars merge with pedestrians, donkeys, camels, horses and bikes. Stench and dirt permeates every inch of the city center. Also, from I can work out, each driver has to use his/her horn every ten seconds for one of the following reasons: to tell someone to pass, to merge into a 'lane,' to tell pedestrians to watch out, to hassle women, to change the radio station, etc., etc. The result is a cacophony of sounds and overwhelming chaos to new visitors. My best friend Jen, our friend Mindy and I visited Paris for the first time in 1995. The culture shock I experienced during that trip was maybe 1% of what I felt in Cairo. It literally through off my system and slowed my reactions.

To gain some sense of control, I stayed up late that night and put everything away in the hotel closet and dresser. I reread sections of my Cairo Lonely Planet Guide to keep my wits for the next day.

After sleeping in the first day, Ahmed greeted me in the lobby and said that he would show me around. Luckily, the night before, I had casually mentioned my 'husband' because the Lonely Planet said that marriage is respected in the Egyptian culture. (In case you're wondering, my husband seems to be a composite of several friends. His name is Patrick. While he is serving on WestPac Navy tour, he encouraged me to travel as I did before we were married. We met hiking at Yosemite National Park, dated for three years and have been married for three. No children yet, but maybe next year. My ring is at home so I don't lose it while traveling. It's astonishing how naturally these fabrications came out of my mouth.) Despite my 'married' status, Ahmed grabbed for my hand and was too touchy for my level of comfort. Moreover, he began asking me every few minutes if I was happy. I can't tell you how irritating that was.

We started with lunch at the Felfela Takeaway, which I have frequented every day since. I devoured the fuul (mashed and boiled beans in a pita - I liked something with beans, can you believe it?) and ta'amiyya (a sort of felafel in a pita, which is my new addiction) and drank some shay (Egyptian tea). My feast cost approximately 40 cents.

From there, we headed to Islamic Cairo, including a mosque which is 500 years old. Few people were there, but I could imagine them all spread out on the carpets during one of the five prayer times each day. Some rooms revealed gorgeous stained glass windows that caught the sun from a different angle each hour of the day. Ahmed pointed out the symbolism of 'Allah' having 99 names throughout the mosque. (This originated from the lines on our palms. You can see 18 and 81 (in Arabic numbers) when you follow the lines.)

The scam I was expecting came next. It took the form of visiting a 'museum.' The Egyptian Papyrus Museum is actually just a papyrus gallery in the guise of a museum. The proprieter showed me how papyrus paintings were made and told me about some common Egyptian myths. (One fact was quite cool. Egyptians revere papyrus because the stalk has the shape of a pyramid.) Following this demonstration, I was of course expected to buy a painting. He pushed one in particular that went for around 400 dollars. Appealing to his Egyptian sensibilities, I later said that I couldn't make such a large purchase without my husband present. That seemed to pacify him initially, but the dealer was visibly annoyed when I only purchased a small painting ($10) for my mother's class.

From there, Ahmed said that he would like to introduce me to his family. The Lonely Planet said this was common so I thought nothing of it. We sat down with his uncle for tea. Surprise, surprise, it turned out that he had an aromatherapy business. This windbag went on and on about the seven energy centers and the spiritual fulfillment we are all seeking. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. This hypocrite, too, was visibly annoyed when I declined to purchase anything. So much for his so-called fulfillment. If his life was so meaningful, why did he need to scam me?

The last activity on our agenda that night was the Light and Sound show at the Giza Pyramids. The performance is held every night in English, German and French at various intervals. Rather than paying to observe the show closely, Akmed took me to a cafe with a splendid view of the spectacle. It was worth the whole trip to see this cheesy tourist promotion. Under a spotlight and lasers, the Sphinx narrated the story of the wonder of the Pyramids. Imagine a voice deeper than James Earl Jones and a bass drum in the background to add to the drama. These were some of my favorite lines: 'I saw the ambitions of conquerors. Stone by stone, they were built from earth to heaven.' The most classic line closed the show: 'Over time, human achievements crumble and fall, but these structures will never perish.'