This was published November 1st, 2009 in the Donnarc Magazine webzine at www.donnarc.com
If you’ve ever wondered how Metal music divided into a countless number of sub-genres, the answer is that God said, “Let there be sub-genres”, and it was so! Absurd, isn’t it? Lately, I have been reading about Creationism vs. Evolution, or in other words denial vs. logic, and when I examined the subject of Metal sub-genres, I found a very clear pattern of Metal’s evolution. I began pondering- evolution and music; survival of the fittest and sub-genres. Until now, I never connected the two. Evolution is ironically omnipresent- even in the world of music. Literally, it just takes time to notice the progression. Let’s rewind to the beginning of music, shall we?
It all started with a stick tapping on a taut piece of leather… Too far? Okay, we’ll fast-forward to good ol' Rock 'n Roll.
Metal stemmed from Rock 'n Roll starting in the late 1960s. I think of it as screeching tire-guitars careening towards car-crashing percussion, followed by gut-wrenching screams of agony and terror…but in a good way. It can sound like chainsaws on a chalkboard to some, and it is definitely not for the faint of heart. What those people do not realize, however, is how much creativity it takes to pull off this type of violence as art. It is liberating and destructive, opinionated and hateful. It began with fragile seeds from genres like blues, rock, and pop and it bloomed and hardened into the dense, malleable alloy we call Metal. Three pioneers stepped out onto a limb of creativity to try something new, launching the cathartic genre that the music world would not be the same without. Led Zeppelin, Deep Purple, and Black Sabbath are immortal legends, and set the foundation for the trunk of the ancestral Metal-tree. Soon the genre branches began to grow.
And God said, “Let there be big hair,” and it was so! Remember when Glam Metal first started? That was one of the first Metal sub-genres to emerge in the late 1970s early 1980s. It was established by bands like Motley Crue and Poison and unfortunately made make-up and long, poofy hair a quality of early Metal. One would think that today’s theory of the Greenhouse Effect and the dangers of destroying the ozone layer would be enough to inspire a decline in hair-care product consumption. If only the hairspray and eyeliner would selflessly be cast aside to retire in an effort to save the planet. A lonely, dust-collecting vanity table could be all that remains of the narcissistic element to music, and we might be able to populate the Earth a little longer.
However, there is a lot more to metal than leather pants, dark sunglasses, and studded gloves. It runs deeper than the Mesozoic Era fossils. The lyrics convey messages as penetrable as being impaled by a fork, or they can read as pure poetry, or both. It is an expression and release of all emotions; it is a catharsis, it is a drug. The early 1980s introduced our newly-shaped musical drug to cocaine. After copulation, Thrash Metal was born breech, kicking and screaming. Angry and irritable, Thrash Metal was gnawing away at the umbilical cord to break free, baring its baby fangs and shaking its little fetus fist at the world from day one. Metallica, Anthrax, Megedeth and Slayer are known as the “Big Four” of Thrash Metal and are the androgynous parent of yet further sub-genres. From deep within the bowels of Thrash, two more prevalent categories were excreted: Death Metal and Black Metal.
Death Metal is the namesake of the band called Death, and can you guess what their songs are about? Death. Deep, guttural growls characterize these songs, like dirty nails clawing from the underworld through one’s throat. Have you ever tried to imitate noises like this? It’s not easy. I’ve tried, and everything comes out sounding like a meat sandwich. Morbid Angel is another original band of this genre. Some of their songs are about Hell’s fire and the devil. Suffering and torture. Such happiness! It almost reminds me of some of the verses in the Koran…almost. Death Metal’s brother, Black Metal, did not stray too far from this style. Black Metal is more widespread in Norway and is kicking up quite a storm. It is associated with church-burnings and murder, but that’s another story. It is Satanic, yet ambient. Dark, yet melodic. It is epic and evil and I have two words for you: Dimmu Borgir.
There is no end to the number of sub-genres in existence. It is impossible to keep track of all of them. Like many unknown species, there are genres in the world, waiting to be named. One last genre necessary to mention is Philosophy Metal- music whose lyrical content “matches the violence and fury of the deliverance and vocals” ~Rhiis D. Lopez. Rather than using a morphed combination of genres like Powercore Black Glamdeath Metal, to falsely name an example, the term Philosophy Metal was created for a genre never heard before. People have attempted to compare other bands or describe it with other sub-genres, but Ana Kefr is a band that stands alone. This is music that requires you to think. It stretches deep down to the roots and asks you to question who you are and what you stand for. The lyrics are fierce and address real-world issues. Now, there are other bands who have written about political, social, and controversial issues, but not many have the determination and motivation to act upon the words they scream. They are not stepping out on that creative limb to take a risk with their music. Philosophy Metal is not music for the sake of music. Philosophy Metal is the message, and it is living that message. As for the sound, there is no all-encompassing set of adjectives to describe it. As a fan, I am stepping out on the aforementioned limb by saying they are the greatest band I have ever known. I’ll admit, I’m partial, but let the music speak for itself by listening. For now, let me clarify my bias by introducing myself. My name is Sara Heitman, and I am the Merch Girl for Ana Kefr.
In my opinion, the Merchandise Representative, or less politically-correct term, "Merch Girl" for a band must know a little about a lot of things. Knowing the band inside and out allows me to answer questions anyone may have. I need to have contact information and future show dates ready for reporters and other bands who are interested. It is necessary to know about the message behind the music, what certain songs are about, how they came up with their name, and what the hell it means! Commonly I am asked questions like where did these guys come from? And, how long have they been together? Then there’s the occasional drunk bitch who toddles over asking where the bathroom is. I prefer to be educated, updated, and informative about the band rather than a dumb post behind a table. By knowing, I am effectively selling as well as representing while they are on stage rocking the joint! I am a big part of the band, yet I’m not a part of it at all. So, I have taken the role of Merch Girl and am renovating it. I can’t tell you how many concerts I have attended where the Merch Person looks distracted, uninterested, half-dead, or is just plain rude. Not I. I am friendly and professional, but when Ana Kefr steps on stage, the hair comes down and the middle fingers warm up. You’ll consistently see me screaming along with the lyrics and flipping off the so-called heavens, despite the people walking past with strange looks. Sadly, not many Merch People do that. Personally, I continue to educate myself with research. I am learning about various aspects of music to increase my value as a representative of Ana Kefr and, of course, because it is interesting. So, with this, I share my research and my perspective from the outside. I present The Merch Girl’s Guide to Mostly Music, discussing these various aspects and whatever else I feel like throwing in.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
The End?
Events in your life are steadily becoming more and more frequent. You find yourself with less time to write down the past- but we only make time for the things we want to do, right? Does this mean you no longer want to continue with your Egyptian adventures? You are not sure. You are still determined to finish your story, but it feels like there is still so much more to tell. It will just take more time. You assure your readers, if any left, that life has become much more stable in a country filled with people less intolerant to "foreigners". But really, what is foreign these days, anyway?
To be continued...
You have the next segment of your adventure ready to post, but are currently experiencing technical difficulties with memory sticks.
To be continued...
You have the next segment of your adventure ready to post, but are currently experiencing technical difficulties with memory sticks.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Halfway
You are halfway through your trip’s experience and are getting tired of rewinding your life’s story. You are ready to move into the present, but you are still determined to be patient and continue. You do decide, however, to “kick it up a nickel” without leaving out any important stuff. You also realize that if you stopped writing about what you will be writing, you might have been done writing it by now!
You and your felucca crew have now arrived at the temple of Kom Ombo. Everyone’s belongings are transferred from the covered truck to a new microbus. Most people have bigger bags, which are tied to the roof of the bus. You, on the other hand, have three smaller bags, and no one (including you) wants your bags to travel on top. You also don’t feel safe about leaving them sitting inside the bus, so you carry two of them along with you. All of you are excited to explore a new temple, except Ale who still feels weakened from her troubled stomach, but she still joins you.
Kom Ombo is a unique temple. It is mostly outside and is dedicated to two different gods. Because of this, it was built symmetrically and has twin entrances, twin courts, twin colonnades, twin hypostyle halls, and twin sanctuaries. In ancient times, the city of Kom Ombo was known for being a military base as well as a trading center between Egypt and Nubia. It also used to be a place where sacred crocodiles collected and came to be known as Pa-Sebek (Land of Sobek), after the crocodile god. The temple itself is dedicated to Sobek and Haroeris (meaning Horus the elder). It originally began as a project by Ptolemy VI, but most of it was completed by Cleopatra VII’s father, Ptolemy XII.
From the temple of Kom Ombo, it is about an hour ride to your next destination: the temple at Edfu. By this time both Ale and Ana were wiped out, Rob had seen the temple before and already had a torn calf muscle, so he opted out as well. The only able-bodied Edfu explorers were you and Tom.
Edfu is a temple dedicated to the god Horus. It is a striking sight from the outside, as a large pylon decorated with giant hieroglyphs, depicting heroic skull-smashing battle scenes, comes into view from the cemented walkway. On each side of the entrance are two life-size, precise granite sculptures of Horus himself. According to the “Lonely Planet” Edfu is the “most completely preserved Egyptian temple.” Somewhat coincidentally, this temple was also completed by Cleopatra’s father Ptolemy XII, after being initially constructed by Ptolemy III 237 years before year 1.
Inside the temple, you are bombarded by numerous tour groups. They inconsiderately stand in the middle of your way as their guide flaps his or her gums. You have no problem elbowing your way through in order to see what you came here for- absolutely everything. You walk in and explore every chamber you find, snapping pictures along the way. You feel a certain responsibility to capture the essence of the temple for those who were not able to join you.
Whilst wandering around, attempting to escape herds of tourists, you accidentally find yourself in what you later find out to be the Passage of Victory. It is a narrow passageway between the temple and its outer protective walls. Not unlike other temples, the passageway is completely covered in hieroglyphs, which you later read to be pictures of battles between Horus and Seth during the annual Festival of Victory.
In the end, Ale decides to join the exploration. Together you complain about the tourists, and exit the temple into the hot blistering sun. The exits of most ancient sites are designed so that everyone must pass by a colorful array of overpriced touristic souvenirs in order to escape. You torture the vendors with interested eyes but sharp stabbing, “NO!’s” and re-enter the microbus heading to Luxor.
You and your felucca crew have now arrived at the temple of Kom Ombo. Everyone’s belongings are transferred from the covered truck to a new microbus. Most people have bigger bags, which are tied to the roof of the bus. You, on the other hand, have three smaller bags, and no one (including you) wants your bags to travel on top. You also don’t feel safe about leaving them sitting inside the bus, so you carry two of them along with you. All of you are excited to explore a new temple, except Ale who still feels weakened from her troubled stomach, but she still joins you.
Kom Ombo is a unique temple. It is mostly outside and is dedicated to two different gods. Because of this, it was built symmetrically and has twin entrances, twin courts, twin colonnades, twin hypostyle halls, and twin sanctuaries. In ancient times, the city of Kom Ombo was known for being a military base as well as a trading center between Egypt and Nubia. It also used to be a place where sacred crocodiles collected and came to be known as Pa-Sebek (Land of Sobek), after the crocodile god. The temple itself is dedicated to Sobek and Haroeris (meaning Horus the elder). It originally began as a project by Ptolemy VI, but most of it was completed by Cleopatra VII’s father, Ptolemy XII.
From the temple of Kom Ombo, it is about an hour ride to your next destination: the temple at Edfu. By this time both Ale and Ana were wiped out, Rob had seen the temple before and already had a torn calf muscle, so he opted out as well. The only able-bodied Edfu explorers were you and Tom.
Edfu is a temple dedicated to the god Horus. It is a striking sight from the outside, as a large pylon decorated with giant hieroglyphs, depicting heroic skull-smashing battle scenes, comes into view from the cemented walkway. On each side of the entrance are two life-size, precise granite sculptures of Horus himself. According to the “Lonely Planet” Edfu is the “most completely preserved Egyptian temple.” Somewhat coincidentally, this temple was also completed by Cleopatra’s father Ptolemy XII, after being initially constructed by Ptolemy III 237 years before year 1.
Inside the temple, you are bombarded by numerous tour groups. They inconsiderately stand in the middle of your way as their guide flaps his or her gums. You have no problem elbowing your way through in order to see what you came here for- absolutely everything. You walk in and explore every chamber you find, snapping pictures along the way. You feel a certain responsibility to capture the essence of the temple for those who were not able to join you.
Whilst wandering around, attempting to escape herds of tourists, you accidentally find yourself in what you later find out to be the Passage of Victory. It is a narrow passageway between the temple and its outer protective walls. Not unlike other temples, the passageway is completely covered in hieroglyphs, which you later read to be pictures of battles between Horus and Seth during the annual Festival of Victory.
In the end, Ale decides to join the exploration. Together you complain about the tourists, and exit the temple into the hot blistering sun. The exits of most ancient sites are designed so that everyone must pass by a colorful array of overpriced touristic souvenirs in order to escape. You torture the vendors with interested eyes but sharp stabbing, “NO!’s” and re-enter the microbus heading to Luxor.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Yahtzee
You make the final preparations for your departure from Aswan. As you are shoving your belongings neatly into your back-pack, the receptionist peeks his head in the door.
“Um, Sara. When you finish with that, I want to talk to you.”
“Okay. What about?”
“When you finish.”
The receptionist no longer has the ability to inspire negative emotion from you. You are ready to leave and never see his pudgy-ugly little face again. Ten minutes later, however, he comes back to your room. In his sun-stained hands he holds a steaming hot glass of traditional Egyptian tea and a cup of sugar with a spoon. He pathetically attempts to convey a puppy-dog face of apology, silently offers the cup of tea and sugar, and walks away.
“That’s weird,” you think.
It is not usual for anyone to give tea unless asked for- especially if not on good terms. You wonder what he is up to. You wonder if he put something in the tea to make you sick. You look in it, swirl it, smell it, and set in on the shelf. You finish loading your bags, pour the tea down the sink, and make your way downstairs to check out.
“Oh, you’re leaving?”
“Yeah. So what did you want to talk about?”
“I wanted to tell you I was so angry with you for going somewhere else for your felucca. Why you didn’t ask me?”
Smirking, you reply, “It doesn’t matter. I’m leaving. Halos, it’s finished. I got my own felucca. Goodbye.” Your pulse is racing. You begin to walk toward the door, but you pause, face him, and say, “And maybe next time you shouldn’t lie!” You walk out.
Back at the hotel where you made your felucca arrangements, someone arrives to lead you to your felucca which is a small sailboat. Boards across the center of it create a seating/laying area when covered with mattresses and sheets. There are two small cubby-hole sections at the front. One is for stepping into the boat as well as an under-board access. Your bags are stored underneath the boards. The only way to get to them is to crawl underneath. The other section, on the opposite side, is the kitchen area. It consists of a giant Bunsen burner covered by a rack to form a stove. This is where your next 6 meals will be cooked. Already aboard are two of your boatmates: Ale, a.k.a. Mudfoot, from Argentina and Tom, a.k.a. Mr. Lippy, from Australia.
You sit with Tom and Ale for about 2 hours talking about the experiences all of you have been having in Aswan, how many people are trying to rip each of you off, and what kind of sexual harassment has been faced. After a while, you all begin to wonder if the boat is ever going to leave the dock. Eventually, two more Australians arrive. They are Ana and Rob. The five of you have boarded and you set sail.
The next day-and-a-half are intentionally uneventful. The five of you get to know each other, relax, play Yahtzee and enjoy the pleasant breeze. There are a few tipping scares after some unexpected gusts of wind, enjoyable meals, sun block, and music. A teenage boy rows past on a boat made of empty water bottles in a plastic bag. Some Egyptian monkeys try to follow Ana and Ale to watch as they search for a bush to pee. Cruise ships dominate the water, providing a constant rocky sleep. By the last morning, Ale and Ana have weak stomachs.
Finally it is time to exit your loyal boat, “The Nile Dancer”, and pile into a covered truck. The covered truck will take you to your next destination: the Temple of Kom Ombo.
“Um, Sara. When you finish with that, I want to talk to you.”
“Okay. What about?”
“When you finish.”
The receptionist no longer has the ability to inspire negative emotion from you. You are ready to leave and never see his pudgy-ugly little face again. Ten minutes later, however, he comes back to your room. In his sun-stained hands he holds a steaming hot glass of traditional Egyptian tea and a cup of sugar with a spoon. He pathetically attempts to convey a puppy-dog face of apology, silently offers the cup of tea and sugar, and walks away.
“That’s weird,” you think.
It is not usual for anyone to give tea unless asked for- especially if not on good terms. You wonder what he is up to. You wonder if he put something in the tea to make you sick. You look in it, swirl it, smell it, and set in on the shelf. You finish loading your bags, pour the tea down the sink, and make your way downstairs to check out.
“Oh, you’re leaving?”
“Yeah. So what did you want to talk about?”
“I wanted to tell you I was so angry with you for going somewhere else for your felucca. Why you didn’t ask me?”
Smirking, you reply, “It doesn’t matter. I’m leaving. Halos, it’s finished. I got my own felucca. Goodbye.” Your pulse is racing. You begin to walk toward the door, but you pause, face him, and say, “And maybe next time you shouldn’t lie!” You walk out.
Back at the hotel where you made your felucca arrangements, someone arrives to lead you to your felucca which is a small sailboat. Boards across the center of it create a seating/laying area when covered with mattresses and sheets. There are two small cubby-hole sections at the front. One is for stepping into the boat as well as an under-board access. Your bags are stored underneath the boards. The only way to get to them is to crawl underneath. The other section, on the opposite side, is the kitchen area. It consists of a giant Bunsen burner covered by a rack to form a stove. This is where your next 6 meals will be cooked. Already aboard are two of your boatmates: Ale, a.k.a. Mudfoot, from Argentina and Tom, a.k.a. Mr. Lippy, from Australia.
You sit with Tom and Ale for about 2 hours talking about the experiences all of you have been having in Aswan, how many people are trying to rip each of you off, and what kind of sexual harassment has been faced. After a while, you all begin to wonder if the boat is ever going to leave the dock. Eventually, two more Australians arrive. They are Ana and Rob. The five of you have boarded and you set sail.
The next day-and-a-half are intentionally uneventful. The five of you get to know each other, relax, play Yahtzee and enjoy the pleasant breeze. There are a few tipping scares after some unexpected gusts of wind, enjoyable meals, sun block, and music. A teenage boy rows past on a boat made of empty water bottles in a plastic bag. Some Egyptian monkeys try to follow Ana and Ale to watch as they search for a bush to pee. Cruise ships dominate the water, providing a constant rocky sleep. By the last morning, Ale and Ana have weak stomachs.
Finally it is time to exit your loyal boat, “The Nile Dancer”, and pile into a covered truck. The covered truck will take you to your next destination: the Temple of Kom Ombo.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
History
You are stuck in the past. You don’t even exist in the same country anymore, but you are determined to continue with your story. You remind others that the following events occurred just under two months ago…
The next day, in Aswan, you settle your felucca situation. Following new directions, you find yourself in the lobby of a hotel, close to the original one you visited. It is dimly lit, poorly decorated, and furnished with a small seating area and television. Soon, you are introduced to “Jack” and make arrangements for a three-day, two-night tour. “Jack” asks you for a favor. You are skeptical, at first, but realize you can always decline later. “Jack” wants you to help him on the computer. He says that his English skills are intermediate when it comes to speaking and listening, but reading and writing are much more challenging. He has received an e-mail from a client who also speaks English as a second language and uses awkward structure. You are happy to help- after all this has become your specialty.
After translating and responding to a couple different e-mails, “Jack” is so thankful that he treats you to an Egyptian-style dinner at local prices. It is nice to have a meal here other than pizza or eggs, cheese and bread.
“What will you do now?”
“Oh, I’m going back to my hotel. I don’t like being out at night, here.”
You want sex? I need fuck you.
You make arrangements to meet with “Jack” the next day to complete the deal- meaning give him the money. The next day you wake up early. Today you plan to visit the Nubian Museum and Elephantine Island.
The Nubian Museum is about half an hour walk from your hotel. The only way you know how to get there, without getting lost, is to walk the Corniche along the Nile River.
“You want felucca?”
“No, thank you.”
“Felucca?”
“No.”
“Good price. You know how much?”
“NO!”
The Nubian Museum unfolds the story of Nubian history and culture from over 6,500 years ago to present day. It contains impressive artifacts, stunning jewelry, portrayals of ancient and modern Nubian life as well as detailed displays of the construction of the Aswan Dam. Even though you decided against visiting the Aswan Dam, you find this display particularly interesting. The construction of the Dam was an attempt to control the flow and irrigation of the Nile’s water. As predicted, the restriction allowed for more crops to be produced each year. Unfortunately, it also had an adverse affect. The water table rose so dramatically that it began submerging some of Aswan’s most treasured monuments. Ironically, the construction of the dam brought wealth to the country by yielding rich and plentiful harvests each year, but at the same time the country would be losing millions of dollars from the resulting detriment to its tourist industry. Something had to be done.
A huge Unesco project involving many corporations, countries, and millions of dollars was put into effect. It involved the deconstruction and reconstruction of the monuments mentioned in a previous post. The result of this project is the monuments as we see them today.
“I still think it would have been better as an underwater dive tour.”
“Yeah, but then they wouldn’t make as much money.”
You decide that your most pleasant memory of the day is being approached by four young Egyptian girls inside the museum. The oldest is 12 and the youngest, 6 or 7 years old. They surround you, asking questions like, “where are you from?”, “what’s your name?”, “how old are you?” The rest you can’t understand. You gather by the intonation of a mother figure in the distance that she is telling them to stop bothering you. They walk away smiling and waving. About ten minutes later, they come back. The oldest offers you a pen and tells you to take it. You accept. They ask if you have a mobile. You laugh and tell them your phone number. They never call you- or if they did, you didn’t answer.
After the museum, you take the ferry over to Elephantine Island. The significance of Elephantine Island is that it was once the main source for trade of ivory and granite. It was also a renowned center for worshipping the Ancient Egyptian gods of Khnum, the creator of humankind and controller of the Nile’s water level, his wife Satis, and their daughter Anukis. The ticketed site on this island is the location of the ruins from their religious edifices. Here, there are some reconstructed temples, including one built by Queen Hatchepsut in honor of Satis, the ruins of a residential colony, and a cemetery for sacred rams. The rest of the island is filled with scattered Nubian homes made of mud-bricks, thatched roofs, and wooden doors with padlocks. Modern Elephantine families live here. It is open for people to walk around, but you feel a little awkward walking through the perimeters of their homes. You thoroughly wander about the island, however, as you get a bit lost trying to find the location of the ruins. After a few hours, you return to the mainland for the evening.
You make the final arrangements with “Jack” for your felucca trip, departing the next morning- the next leg of your journey.
The next day, in Aswan, you settle your felucca situation. Following new directions, you find yourself in the lobby of a hotel, close to the original one you visited. It is dimly lit, poorly decorated, and furnished with a small seating area and television. Soon, you are introduced to “Jack” and make arrangements for a three-day, two-night tour. “Jack” asks you for a favor. You are skeptical, at first, but realize you can always decline later. “Jack” wants you to help him on the computer. He says that his English skills are intermediate when it comes to speaking and listening, but reading and writing are much more challenging. He has received an e-mail from a client who also speaks English as a second language and uses awkward structure. You are happy to help- after all this has become your specialty.
After translating and responding to a couple different e-mails, “Jack” is so thankful that he treats you to an Egyptian-style dinner at local prices. It is nice to have a meal here other than pizza or eggs, cheese and bread.
“What will you do now?”
“Oh, I’m going back to my hotel. I don’t like being out at night, here.”
You want sex? I need fuck you.
You make arrangements to meet with “Jack” the next day to complete the deal- meaning give him the money. The next day you wake up early. Today you plan to visit the Nubian Museum and Elephantine Island.
The Nubian Museum is about half an hour walk from your hotel. The only way you know how to get there, without getting lost, is to walk the Corniche along the Nile River.
“You want felucca?”
“No, thank you.”
“Felucca?”
“No.”
“Good price. You know how much?”
“NO!”
The Nubian Museum unfolds the story of Nubian history and culture from over 6,500 years ago to present day. It contains impressive artifacts, stunning jewelry, portrayals of ancient and modern Nubian life as well as detailed displays of the construction of the Aswan Dam. Even though you decided against visiting the Aswan Dam, you find this display particularly interesting. The construction of the Dam was an attempt to control the flow and irrigation of the Nile’s water. As predicted, the restriction allowed for more crops to be produced each year. Unfortunately, it also had an adverse affect. The water table rose so dramatically that it began submerging some of Aswan’s most treasured monuments. Ironically, the construction of the dam brought wealth to the country by yielding rich and plentiful harvests each year, but at the same time the country would be losing millions of dollars from the resulting detriment to its tourist industry. Something had to be done.
A huge Unesco project involving many corporations, countries, and millions of dollars was put into effect. It involved the deconstruction and reconstruction of the monuments mentioned in a previous post. The result of this project is the monuments as we see them today.
“I still think it would have been better as an underwater dive tour.”
“Yeah, but then they wouldn’t make as much money.”
You decide that your most pleasant memory of the day is being approached by four young Egyptian girls inside the museum. The oldest is 12 and the youngest, 6 or 7 years old. They surround you, asking questions like, “where are you from?”, “what’s your name?”, “how old are you?” The rest you can’t understand. You gather by the intonation of a mother figure in the distance that she is telling them to stop bothering you. They walk away smiling and waving. About ten minutes later, they come back. The oldest offers you a pen and tells you to take it. You accept. They ask if you have a mobile. You laugh and tell them your phone number. They never call you- or if they did, you didn’t answer.
After the museum, you take the ferry over to Elephantine Island. The significance of Elephantine Island is that it was once the main source for trade of ivory and granite. It was also a renowned center for worshipping the Ancient Egyptian gods of Khnum, the creator of humankind and controller of the Nile’s water level, his wife Satis, and their daughter Anukis. The ticketed site on this island is the location of the ruins from their religious edifices. Here, there are some reconstructed temples, including one built by Queen Hatchepsut in honor of Satis, the ruins of a residential colony, and a cemetery for sacred rams. The rest of the island is filled with scattered Nubian homes made of mud-bricks, thatched roofs, and wooden doors with padlocks. Modern Elephantine families live here. It is open for people to walk around, but you feel a little awkward walking through the perimeters of their homes. You thoroughly wander about the island, however, as you get a bit lost trying to find the location of the ruins. After a few hours, you return to the mainland for the evening.
You make the final arrangements with “Jack” for your felucca trip, departing the next morning- the next leg of your journey.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Betrayal
You are still in Aswan. You have been here for two days, but you already feel you should leave or switch hotels. Shortly after you wake up, you are greeted by waves of cool air. One of your Japanese roommates paid extra to have air-conditioning for one day. You decide to stay inside today- at least until it cools down outside. After that, your task is to locate the recommended captain of a felucca boat.
A felucca trip is an essential experience if traveling in Egypt. The felucca itself is a small sail boat. One can take it on a one-hour trip around Elephantine Island or Philae, or down-river from Aswan to Kom Ombo on a two-day cruise. The latter is the trip for which you are searching, but you must first find the hotel.
You are unable to locate the hotel with the suggested captain, so you decide to ask another hotel nearby if they know him. They say yes but he is not in business anymore, and they would be more than happy to offer you the felucca package available from their hotel. You decline after the quoted price is more than the one from your own hotel. So you decide to return and inquire from there.
Back in your hotel, you foolishly make it known that you sought help from another place. Suddenly, the receptionist, who was so nice to you in the beginning, has turned sour. Nevertheless, he says he will look into a felucca trip for you. You retire back to your room for some air-con relaxation, only to discover that the electricity doesn’t work- again. You spend a few hours watching a movie in the lounge area outside of your room. Later, you are approached by your two Japanese roommates and engage in a conversation which results in the decision to go out for pizza. Upon returning to the hotel, the light still does not work. The three of you ask the receptionist to fix it.
The receptionist waddles up the stairs,
“Oh, by the way, Sara, I checked for you about the felucca trip.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. They are all full.”
I see.
Apparently, your welcoming receptionist feels you have betrayed him. He has turned against you. You no longer feel you can ask him for or about anything. Suddenly you feel extremely uncomfortable here. You decide not to take a felucca. You also feel you should switch hotels. You start looking into other options, but none sound promising.
In the meantime, you still have some sight-seeing to do here, so the next morning, you wake up, pack a day-bag, and cross to the West Bank, via public ferry, to visit the Tombs of the Nobles. Here there are tombs of revered men from ancient Elephantine. Surprisingly, there are few visitors today. You are able to roam around relatively hassle-free. There are six tombs which have been preserved and labeled, but there are numerous other nooks and crannies available to explore- so, you do.
If someone had taken the time, thought, and dedication to properly preserve and excavate these tombs, the West Bank could be a series of easily-navigable, vast, underground channels, which could take years to fully search through. In reality, however, the only dedication made has been marked in the sand by human-produced liquid and the only time taken has been that to fill the emptied tombs with layers of rubbish. You carefully choose the ones you enter. You find piles of bones, bats and their droppings, trash, and creepy, dark spaces. One tomb that you enter stretches further than your flashlight can see. Inside, a cold feeling crawls over your skin. It says you should leave. Physically, you could have gone further, but you get scared about what you might find- or what might find you.
The last sections you visit are joined tombs of a father and son, each with a long flight of stairs leading up to the entrance. Instead of returning the same way you came, passing by key-jingling guards, you decide to descend one set of these stairs. You do not believe anyone uses these steps today, as they have deteriorated over time, but you imagine that someone devotedly walked up and down them, every day, in order to visit a loved one. Your visit ends with a peaceful stroll along the bank of the Nile. A cool breeze sweeps the surface and accompanies your slow ride back to the East Bank.
Upon returning from your four-hour excursion on the other side, you drink some fresh fruit juice, take a nap and a shower, and find some food. You come back to your room, and the light does not work. This time the receptionist’s solution is for you to switch to a room with a working light. For this room, there is one lock with two keys. After you have set up your new space, you receive a phone call convincing you to take a felucca trip- no matter what. You are given new information about the location of the hotel you could not find. You plan to stay here until you achieve this goal.
Later on, you go out for another pizza with your roommate. You each take a key, and when you return,
“Sara! Why did you take the other key? This man has been sleeping on this couch for an hour! Do you think that is fair?”
“Maybe you should make another key.”
Need a plan. Need a change. Need to leave. Need escape.
Need to be continued...
A felucca trip is an essential experience if traveling in Egypt. The felucca itself is a small sail boat. One can take it on a one-hour trip around Elephantine Island or Philae, or down-river from Aswan to Kom Ombo on a two-day cruise. The latter is the trip for which you are searching, but you must first find the hotel.
You are unable to locate the hotel with the suggested captain, so you decide to ask another hotel nearby if they know him. They say yes but he is not in business anymore, and they would be more than happy to offer you the felucca package available from their hotel. You decline after the quoted price is more than the one from your own hotel. So you decide to return and inquire from there.
Back in your hotel, you foolishly make it known that you sought help from another place. Suddenly, the receptionist, who was so nice to you in the beginning, has turned sour. Nevertheless, he says he will look into a felucca trip for you. You retire back to your room for some air-con relaxation, only to discover that the electricity doesn’t work- again. You spend a few hours watching a movie in the lounge area outside of your room. Later, you are approached by your two Japanese roommates and engage in a conversation which results in the decision to go out for pizza. Upon returning to the hotel, the light still does not work. The three of you ask the receptionist to fix it.
The receptionist waddles up the stairs,
“Oh, by the way, Sara, I checked for you about the felucca trip.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. They are all full.”
I see.
Apparently, your welcoming receptionist feels you have betrayed him. He has turned against you. You no longer feel you can ask him for or about anything. Suddenly you feel extremely uncomfortable here. You decide not to take a felucca. You also feel you should switch hotels. You start looking into other options, but none sound promising.
In the meantime, you still have some sight-seeing to do here, so the next morning, you wake up, pack a day-bag, and cross to the West Bank, via public ferry, to visit the Tombs of the Nobles. Here there are tombs of revered men from ancient Elephantine. Surprisingly, there are few visitors today. You are able to roam around relatively hassle-free. There are six tombs which have been preserved and labeled, but there are numerous other nooks and crannies available to explore- so, you do.
If someone had taken the time, thought, and dedication to properly preserve and excavate these tombs, the West Bank could be a series of easily-navigable, vast, underground channels, which could take years to fully search through. In reality, however, the only dedication made has been marked in the sand by human-produced liquid and the only time taken has been that to fill the emptied tombs with layers of rubbish. You carefully choose the ones you enter. You find piles of bones, bats and their droppings, trash, and creepy, dark spaces. One tomb that you enter stretches further than your flashlight can see. Inside, a cold feeling crawls over your skin. It says you should leave. Physically, you could have gone further, but you get scared about what you might find- or what might find you.
The last sections you visit are joined tombs of a father and son, each with a long flight of stairs leading up to the entrance. Instead of returning the same way you came, passing by key-jingling guards, you decide to descend one set of these stairs. You do not believe anyone uses these steps today, as they have deteriorated over time, but you imagine that someone devotedly walked up and down them, every day, in order to visit a loved one. Your visit ends with a peaceful stroll along the bank of the Nile. A cool breeze sweeps the surface and accompanies your slow ride back to the East Bank.
Upon returning from your four-hour excursion on the other side, you drink some fresh fruit juice, take a nap and a shower, and find some food. You come back to your room, and the light does not work. This time the receptionist’s solution is for you to switch to a room with a working light. For this room, there is one lock with two keys. After you have set up your new space, you receive a phone call convincing you to take a felucca trip- no matter what. You are given new information about the location of the hotel you could not find. You plan to stay here until you achieve this goal.
Later on, you go out for another pizza with your roommate. You each take a key, and when you return,
“Sara! Why did you take the other key? This man has been sleeping on this couch for an hour! Do you think that is fair?”
“Maybe you should make another key.”
Need a plan. Need a change. Need to leave. Need escape.
Need to be continued...
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Journey
You have just arrived. This place you haven’t been to before. It is called Aswan, and it took you 16 hours to arrive by train. You exit the station and attempt to find your hotel.
“Hello? Do you need help?”
“No.”
“Are you sure? Do you know where you are going?”
No.
Finally you arrive and are greeted by the hotel reception. No sooner after you set down your luggage do they ask if you are interested in a day trip to Abu Simbel. You are, and now have arrangements to go there the next morning- at 3:30am.
You locate your room, meet your new Japanese roommates, and attempt to make yourself at home. It is hot, but it could be worse. There are fans, and faucets full of cold water. Soon, you feel hungry and you wonder how you can find food.
“Do you know any good places to eat?”
“Don’t eat out there. If you do, they will shit you. I will get you food.”
You agree, because you knew what he meant. The local people take joy in charging foreigners an arm and a leg. The receptionist (you never learned his name) comes back with enough boiled eggs, bread, jam, and spreadable cheese to last your for three days. You devour it in different combinations and think you like this place and could stay for a while.
Abu Simbel
Abu Simbel is one of the most well-known sites to visit in Upper Egypt. It was created by Ramses II and was dedicated to the gods Ra-Harakhty, Amun, Ptah, and the great pharaoh himself. It was designed as a symbol of strength as the four colossal statues of Ramses overlook Lake Nasser. Since its construction, the temple has been buried by time, as well as rediscovered, deconstructed, and reconstructed due to rising water levels from the Aswan dam. It is truly a magnificent sight to behold. If only there weren’t so many damn tourists.
The only way to travel to Abu Simbel these days is by police convoy. Everyone leaves around 3:45am from their hotels to gather up people from other hotels and are grouped together in a large tourist bus parade. The buses arrive together and everyone is given the same amount of time to explore the great temples. Inside, it is extremely hot and humid from the dense layers of tourist-breath. You shuffle along, trying to absorb the first temple’s beauty, admiring every inch of the hieroglyph-covered surfaces, and struggle to breathe at the same time. Pictures are forbidden inside the temples, but you manage to snap one- to spite them- and also because the inside is just as impressive as the outside.
The next temple has a line to get inside. You don’t have much time to explore, so you pop in, and wait.
The second temple is a Temple of Hathor and is dedicated to Queen Nefertari, Ramses’ wife. On the outside there are six standing statues- four of them represent Ramses and the other two, Nefertari. Inside there are pillars with detailed carvings of the goddess, Hathor herself. You try to snap a picture, but a monkey put his hand in front of your lens just as the shutter opened.
After exploring the inside of both temples, you are not sure if there is more to see, but you have about half an hour left. You find a shady spot to sit down, and pull out your sack-lunch, provided by your prestigious $1.25 per night hotel. It consists of two pieces of pita bread, a boiled egg, a triangle of spreadable cheese, and a container of jam. Hmm. You ate this yesterday already, but it was good. You eat some more. Your water supply seems to be diminishing, and you see people heading down a shady cement path. You decide to follow them and hope there is water somewhere along the way.
You realize that the shaded path is just the way out, and it looks like the only water supply is cold bottle drinks being sold in coolers for 5 times the price or inside the bathroom, for which there is a 10-meter line to get inside. Unsure of what to do, you walk around and see a small, air-conditioned enclosure marked “Visitor’s Center”. You decided to visit it. Inside is a display telling the story of the deconstruction and reconstruction of the temples which many countries and organizations took part, in order to keep the great monument from drowning. With great precision, it was dismantled and then reassembled in the same geographic location, but about 100 or so meters higher in elevation.
Soon, you finish your visit at Abu Simbel, are able to get some more water, and climb back in the micro-bus to be taken to your next destination. About three hours later you stop in a place that familiarly looks like town. That is because it is town. Some people on your bus tour only signed up for the “short trip”, but you are in for the long haul. About half of the busload departs, and you happily stretch your legs out in the empty seat next to you.
“Now we are going to switch buses. Everybody off!”
You knew it was too good to be true.
Unfinished Obelisk
Your next destination is to see the “Unfinished Obelisk’. The obelisk is a large granite rectangoid of rock. It was abandoned because a flaw appeared on the rock, and left without any indication of what it was for. You heard from others that this abandoned monument is not worth paying to look at, but you had to see for yourself. It looks like a long rectangle of granite in a ditch, but you are glad you saw it.
Next is the Aswan Dam. You heard from even more people that this is really not worth seeing, and you aren’t as enthusiastic about seeing it as the obelisk, so you choose to stay behind.
Philae
After that is the Temple of Isis on Philae (Agilkia) Island. This temple was also rescued from the rising water table created by the Aswan Dam. It was disassembled and reassembled at a new location, 20 meters higher from its original position. This temple was built in honor of the goddess Isis, and was visited by pilgrims as late as the year 550.
Wandering through the halls, temples, and sanctuaries dedicated to noteworthy Ancient Egyptian gods feels magical, and it is more pleasant to be in the sun during the later hours of the day, with less tourists bumping into you. You soak up every minute of your time available to spend here before it is time to take the motorboat back to shore.
The microbus takes you back to the vicinity of your hotel and you conclude your “long trip” with a glass of fresh sugar cane juice. Later, you collapse on your bed, eventually take a shower, and eat leftover bread, cheese, eggs, and jam for dinner.
Coming Next…
“Okay! Halos! I found my own trip. Maybe next time you shouldn’t lie! Goodbye.”
???
“Hello? Do you need help?”
“No.”
“Are you sure? Do you know where you are going?”
No.
Finally you arrive and are greeted by the hotel reception. No sooner after you set down your luggage do they ask if you are interested in a day trip to Abu Simbel. You are, and now have arrangements to go there the next morning- at 3:30am.
You locate your room, meet your new Japanese roommates, and attempt to make yourself at home. It is hot, but it could be worse. There are fans, and faucets full of cold water. Soon, you feel hungry and you wonder how you can find food.
“Do you know any good places to eat?”
“Don’t eat out there. If you do, they will shit you. I will get you food.”
You agree, because you knew what he meant. The local people take joy in charging foreigners an arm and a leg. The receptionist (you never learned his name) comes back with enough boiled eggs, bread, jam, and spreadable cheese to last your for three days. You devour it in different combinations and think you like this place and could stay for a while.
Abu Simbel
Abu Simbel is one of the most well-known sites to visit in Upper Egypt. It was created by Ramses II and was dedicated to the gods Ra-Harakhty, Amun, Ptah, and the great pharaoh himself. It was designed as a symbol of strength as the four colossal statues of Ramses overlook Lake Nasser. Since its construction, the temple has been buried by time, as well as rediscovered, deconstructed, and reconstructed due to rising water levels from the Aswan dam. It is truly a magnificent sight to behold. If only there weren’t so many damn tourists.
The only way to travel to Abu Simbel these days is by police convoy. Everyone leaves around 3:45am from their hotels to gather up people from other hotels and are grouped together in a large tourist bus parade. The buses arrive together and everyone is given the same amount of time to explore the great temples. Inside, it is extremely hot and humid from the dense layers of tourist-breath. You shuffle along, trying to absorb the first temple’s beauty, admiring every inch of the hieroglyph-covered surfaces, and struggle to breathe at the same time. Pictures are forbidden inside the temples, but you manage to snap one- to spite them- and also because the inside is just as impressive as the outside.
The next temple has a line to get inside. You don’t have much time to explore, so you pop in, and wait.
The second temple is a Temple of Hathor and is dedicated to Queen Nefertari, Ramses’ wife. On the outside there are six standing statues- four of them represent Ramses and the other two, Nefertari. Inside there are pillars with detailed carvings of the goddess, Hathor herself. You try to snap a picture, but a monkey put his hand in front of your lens just as the shutter opened.
After exploring the inside of both temples, you are not sure if there is more to see, but you have about half an hour left. You find a shady spot to sit down, and pull out your sack-lunch, provided by your prestigious $1.25 per night hotel. It consists of two pieces of pita bread, a boiled egg, a triangle of spreadable cheese, and a container of jam. Hmm. You ate this yesterday already, but it was good. You eat some more. Your water supply seems to be diminishing, and you see people heading down a shady cement path. You decide to follow them and hope there is water somewhere along the way.
You realize that the shaded path is just the way out, and it looks like the only water supply is cold bottle drinks being sold in coolers for 5 times the price or inside the bathroom, for which there is a 10-meter line to get inside. Unsure of what to do, you walk around and see a small, air-conditioned enclosure marked “Visitor’s Center”. You decided to visit it. Inside is a display telling the story of the deconstruction and reconstruction of the temples which many countries and organizations took part, in order to keep the great monument from drowning. With great precision, it was dismantled and then reassembled in the same geographic location, but about 100 or so meters higher in elevation.
Soon, you finish your visit at Abu Simbel, are able to get some more water, and climb back in the micro-bus to be taken to your next destination. About three hours later you stop in a place that familiarly looks like town. That is because it is town. Some people on your bus tour only signed up for the “short trip”, but you are in for the long haul. About half of the busload departs, and you happily stretch your legs out in the empty seat next to you.
“Now we are going to switch buses. Everybody off!”
You knew it was too good to be true.
Unfinished Obelisk
Your next destination is to see the “Unfinished Obelisk’. The obelisk is a large granite rectangoid of rock. It was abandoned because a flaw appeared on the rock, and left without any indication of what it was for. You heard from others that this abandoned monument is not worth paying to look at, but you had to see for yourself. It looks like a long rectangle of granite in a ditch, but you are glad you saw it.
Next is the Aswan Dam. You heard from even more people that this is really not worth seeing, and you aren’t as enthusiastic about seeing it as the obelisk, so you choose to stay behind.
Philae
After that is the Temple of Isis on Philae (Agilkia) Island. This temple was also rescued from the rising water table created by the Aswan Dam. It was disassembled and reassembled at a new location, 20 meters higher from its original position. This temple was built in honor of the goddess Isis, and was visited by pilgrims as late as the year 550.
Wandering through the halls, temples, and sanctuaries dedicated to noteworthy Ancient Egyptian gods feels magical, and it is more pleasant to be in the sun during the later hours of the day, with less tourists bumping into you. You soak up every minute of your time available to spend here before it is time to take the motorboat back to shore.
The microbus takes you back to the vicinity of your hotel and you conclude your “long trip” with a glass of fresh sugar cane juice. Later, you collapse on your bed, eventually take a shower, and eat leftover bread, cheese, eggs, and jam for dinner.
Coming Next…
“Okay! Halos! I found my own trip. Maybe next time you shouldn’t lie! Goodbye.”
???
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