DAY 21 - A COACH!
SYNOPSIS: This is about a day spent at the temple complex at Karnak, about some guards, some tourists, and some spirits who remained silent.
Spirit Man is a great motivator. He was determined to be at Karnak at 6 AM when it opened, shortly before sunrise. He was convinced that Karnak Temple was the destination he had to reach on this trip, as it had been foretold to him in a dream a year ago. Without his determination I would have never made it out of bed that early. One last time the three of us took off together and we made it to Karnak at the moment the sun rose over the pylons. I wish I had paid attention in my photo class and knew what to do when photographing into the sun… You have to take my word for it. The photos are all washed out.
Karnak is the temple of temples probably anywhere, certainly in Egypt. Poets of all ages have tried to describe it and I won’t even try. You just have to be there to feel the power of it. We took bread, fruits, and water to the temple and had picnic at the temple of Ramses. Imagine that! Nobody was there, nobody bothered us. Then we parted and lost ourselves in the vastness of this temple.
The complex of temples covers a two square kilometer area but it feels bigger than that. It was started in the Middle Kingdom, but over the next 1500 years it was added on, destroyed, rebuilt, enlarged, restored, and enhanced numerous times by numerous rulers. Nine sets of pylons ever increasing in size, attest to the competitive challenges this temple posed to every new dynasty; the goal was to outdo one’s predecessor.
Around noon I was exhausted and rested at the one small concession stand near the sacred lake. The owner rushed up to me with a big smile: “Are you from the coach?” Coach? It took me a minute to understand what he meant. There was a bus, that had just arrived and word of it had spread like wildfire through the temple. A bus! The first bus in a month; it must have been the event of the day for the guards, guides, trinket sellers, and toilet attendants. No, I was not from the coach, but it did not take long before the first scantily dressed tourists from the coach turned the corner. They were mainly British and had come down for a day trip from the Red Sea resorts. I guess they are brave enough now to do this again. They were given one hour to tour the temple and then had to be back on the bus to continue to Luxor temple. One hour! By that time, I had spent 6 hours at the temple already and I had not seen it all. How eternally grateful I am that I don’t have to travel like this anymore. One hour for the greatest temple in all of Egypt… That should be punishable.
I bit my tongue not to say anything about the woman’s dress, or the lack thereof. It was a disgrace, but in the bulk of the tourist crowd she blended in and with the desperation the Egyptians feel about the tourist void she was wholeheartedly welcomed, even if laughed at behind her back. Within an hour the beach tourists were all gone and the place sank back into its bird-chirping silence.
Aubrey had smoked who-knows-what for breakfast and was walking around with his ear phones plugged in listening to music and taking pictures with his awesome 300 mm zoom lens. I am sure he was a happy clam. I only saw him twice in eight hours from a distance. I ran into Kaspar once in a while, but he would more likely be found meditating in some out of the way corner where not even a guard would find him. I busied myself taking over 500 photos… The light was not ideal everywhere, but to have the temple void of people was just such an opportunity. For long times in between I would retreat into the Great Hypostyle Hall for shade, to rest, and to listen to the stones and the sparrows nesting in them. This hall is certainly one of the most awe-inspiring places I have ever been. The guards were sleeping, had gathered in groups off the main path to chat, or were fishing in the sacred lake! Nobody hassled us; we had become part of the temple life and were left to our own devices.
The site had a number of armed guards in uniform and plain clothes. It is somewhat disconcerting that they walk around with these truncated machine guns under their jackets. But they are friendly. They are not here to scare you. They are a vestige from the days many years ago, when tourists were targeted by local terrorists. You can probably look up the details on line better than I can recollect them. Every site has metal detector machines now and countless soldiers stationed in and around them. I have been waived through all of them in all of the temples so far – with so few tourists around, no terrorist would bother. I don’t look like a terrorist, so I won’t be checked. I guess, in the States you would call this profiling and in the name of PC would have to check me anyhow. But we aren’t in the States and the reverse benefits from profiling are fine with me.
One of the bored and underemployed plain-clothes officers named Mohammed became an admirer. In the morning, I got an invitation to tea. Later, I got involved in a conversation. In the afternoon I was offered a gift of a small alabaster stone with my name in Arabic letters and finally, I had an invitation to his home. Needless to say I turned it down. But he gave me his email address just in case… :)
The day cumulated in an interview for the German national radio. I saw a young guy walking along with a German speaking guide at the temple and as you do when you have about five foreigners around per day – you say hello and make a bit of small talk: Where are you from? What brings you here? But after that the guy whipped out a big microphone asking if I would mind an interview on why I am in Egypt and what I think of recent events. It was hard for me to say no. Thank goodness he did not have a camera. I do not want to be seen the world over sunburned and with my white turban wrapped around my head.
This was an exhausting day. We went back to the hotel in the afternoon. No energy for anything else. In fact, Kasper and I splurged on a horse-drawn buggy ride from the temple to the ferry.
Mountain Man cooked the first night and Spirit Man cooked yesterday. I made it perfectly clear that cooking was not in my repertoire and so the guys went out and returned with pizza. We spent the last evening together eating pizza and drinking hibiscus tea. It was really great to travel with these two guys for a while. Mountain Man will head onwards to Cairo or perhaps into the desert, tomorrow. Spirit Man and I will spend one or two more days at the same hotel before his time in Egypt comes to an end.
Spirit Man took count at the end of the day trying to figure out what messages he had received. The expected spiritual “bang” had not materialized at Karnak as he had hoped for. But he was beginning to wonder if it wasn’t the encounter with Mountain Man and I and the things we talked about, that was the point. Mountain Man certainly has some life experiences which can be an inspiration for any young man and I have a few things up my sleeves as well. I hope he found what he was looking for.
Good night.