Two Sides of the River

    Though my intention was to post my thoughts for the day every day, today was so full and so long, the first time I find to sit and organize my thoughts is 19 hours after the day began. On at least three occasions, I merrily wished my companions a "Happy Easter!" inviting the common reply: "Is it still the same day?"

    Due to the late hour, I'll try to keep it brief. (P.S. I fail miserably.) The highlights: a pre-dawn flight from Cairo in the north to the city of Aswan in the south, the southernmost point on the Nile before you hit Sudan. Tour Guide Hany has perfected the art of firm but compassionate lectures of what we Country Mice need to prepare to make the next step run flawlessly: meet here, wait here, passports needed here, toilets over there. He truly is making this trip a dream for the team.

    Cairo to Aswan, private bus to docks, private motorboat to an island in the Nile housing Philae Temple. Guided tour (by Hany), then free time to roam around. (Side note: Philae Temple is as astounding as the pyramids and so much more spectacular.) Motorboat to bus to downtown to Aromatherapy presentation in a private salon. Aswan is the spice and essential oil capital of the Old World. Amazing stuff. Bringing essence of papyrus and frankincense home.

    Bus to new hotel on the Nile, free time until dinner. My seven mates and I trickled down to the sumptuous outdoor pool overlooking the Nile from our palatial rooms. We relaxed and chatted and splashed about with poolside cocktails and snacks in the afternoon sun. Great conversations about everything and nothing, where I learned that people from New Zealand are not, in fact, Aussies (as I referred to them in my previous post): they are proudly "Kiwis." I have gone back to edit my error. 

    I think each one of us must've pinched ourselves as we paddled around with drinks in hand: How am I actually in this heavenly setting having such a grand, care-free time? As Jenny from Ireland said: "I'm happy with my life choices right now." We all toasted the sentiment.

    For dinner, we crossed the Nile on a motorboat to visit a Nubian village on the western bank. It was a humbling wake-up call for me, and other folks I got to chat with. Nubia (meaning "gold") is a shockingly dirt-poor region where the streets are not paved, the simple houses of mud brick and plaster crumble easily in hard rains, and most don't have complete roofs covering the communal living space. Intrepid Travel, I believe, sees great benefit in their guests experiencing all sides of Egyptian society. We may put you up in 5-star accommodations, but you need to see how the other half lives.

    At the dock, Hani introduced our tall, soft-spoken Nubian tour guide Achmoud, who escorted us up the road through the strangely quiet streets to gather in a typical family's house The wife and grandmother prepared for us a feast of lentil soup and fresh sun-bread, eggplant moussaka, okra,  chicken, potatoes, and rice. It covered the entire table.

    After touring the rooms of their simple home, we sat in their open-air dining area to eat their delicious supper. Achmoud told us of life in Nubia, from wedding festivals that last three days to husbands being barred from the kitchen, as it is the woman's kingdom. He showed us how they purify their drinking water to where they keep their rabbits and chickens. How Nubians used to be proud farmers and builders, but now the residents rely on sporadic tourism like our visit to survive.

    After dinner, Achmoud escorted us down unlit streets, back to the dock to motorboat back to the Las Vegas neon and glitzy commercial zone of Aswan on the eastern side. High-rise luxury stacked fat along a bustling major thoroughfare. A startling vision of the inequality thriving in a single city cut in two by a river.

    As I finish this essay 40 minutes after I began, I have a choice. Do I go to bed to be ready for a 4:15am departure to the temples of Abu Simbel (the second grandest item on my bucket list) or, since it's almost 10pm anyway, do I join my fellow travelers in the hotel bar for the belly dancing demonstration?

P.S. I choose bed, to be prepared for a long day tomorrow. Sorry, belly dancers.