The "Road" To Sesebi

The tarmac road almost went to Dongola (gotta love the names here). In Dongola we picked up our inspector, Abir, a slender and very kind Sudanese woman. Between her and our drivers (Saif and Aimad) it seemed there were very few people along the route they didn't know.

We left the tarmac and went off road.

I was astounded to see that a lot of the time we were doing up to 85 km/h on desert sand. There are much used tracks (trucks and other four wheel drives but also the pick-up truck taxis and busses) which are very soft in places. Being in the second car we were left in huge clouds of sand sometimes. Aimad slowed down but kept a good pace going although in one case  we only managed to stop in time when a small accacia bush scraped our bumper. Makes you wonder what kind of bush would want to live in middle of the road, the Sudanese deathwish bush.

The Road To Sesebi

We left the Acropole, early in the morning. A convoy of four Landcruisers, two going  to Sesebi via the Westbank of the Nile where there is no proper road and two via the Eastbank where there is no proper road either although that "no road" seems to be easier to travel than the one on the West Bank. The first leg of the journey went over tarmac through the desert. It cuts of the big bend in the Nile to the east.

First stop was to buy some bottled water in Omdurman souq, there wouldn't be any further up north. Then dozing of in the car while accacias (only 4 of the 72 different species according to our residential (carridential?) botanist Alan), huge termite mounds of red clay, small goatherds and the occasional camel whizzed by the windows. 

A few hours later we had breakfast at a sort of truckers stop with a huge mosque (Alan's posing in front of it) with all four cars. Lemonsellers taking it easy, bowls of fuul and lentils, bread and tea later the group split up. Here the tarmac road also ended.

Khartoum City 1

While waiting for the registration and permits we had a chance to have a quick peek at Khartoum. On our way to NCAM (the National Committee for Archaeology and Museums) we wandered down the corniche and saw where the White Nile meets the Blue Nile and you can really see a smaller strip of dark to north and a wider lighter area in the south. Unfortunately no pictures were taken because of nearby bridges (a big no no when it comes to photographing in Sudan) and because I didn't bring my camera along.

Ran into some other nice things tho. The little (well it's not so little but it looks that way) blue and white building known as Gadaffi's Egg. A deluxe hotel and business place built by the Libyans, the son of Moammar to be more exact.

And a company that has numerous activities and isn't afraid to announce it.

It's a very new city and has made space for buildings and streets. everything is wide. Houses are generally low. There aren't many shops although a new mall has been built recently. There are a lot of cars but nowhere near the amounts in Cairo and they don't honk very much.

The city itself is divided. Because of the inverted Y shape there's a series of cities. In the fork of the upside down Y is Khartoum 1, 2 and 3. Not very inventive or imaginary but very clear. The airport lies in the middle of these sprawling numbers. Streets in the newer parts have numbers, not names. 

North of the fork is the northern area, usually designated industries and most likely garages etc. A few residential areas and lots of empty spaces. The area to the west/northwest is Omdurman with a large labyrinthian souq (as muslim cities should have, not the wide westernised shopping streets Luxor and Aswan now so falsely boast).

Omdurman is the part where the Ma'adi lived and is now entombed. For further reference; watch the movie "Khartoum"  with Sir Laurence Olivier as the Ma'adi. 

The Acropole Hotel

We spent a few days in Khartoum at the Acropole Hotel. Every country where archaeologists have worked in the early 20th century seems to have a hotel of reputation where archaeologists and others of that ilk seem to flock. It reminded me a bit of the Baron Hotel in Aleppo, a certain amount of charm, lots of faded atmosphere and a very skewed cost to quality ratio. It's nice enough and has one extremely important factor; George the owner. A very suave and polyglot Greek who runs the hotel with his brother, his wife and brother's wife. George is also one the most capable fixers in Sudan. Although that comes at a price, a high price.

Kate came back from paying our room bills and George's "expenses", slightly pale, shakey and in dire need of good drink. Unfortunately Sudan is dry, extremely dry. People at the airport have anything resembling alcohol (and a fair amount if things not resembling alcohol) is confiscated immediately. So not only do you pay through the nose, there is no compensating numbness thanks to a stiff drink. Although there might not be enough alcohol to make you forget how much you had to spend on the Acropole and George.

To Khartoum

The Sesebi season started well, Pam (Rose, one of the dig directors and all round good egg) at the airport check-in counter staying calm, outwardly at least, and the Egypt Air manager telling us that without any kind of proof of visa, I could not board the flight. Pam likes to be very much on time and thanks to me, 2 day weekends in the Khartoum Civil Service (especially the visa department) she had to wait to the very last minute before checking in. Phone calls to George, the owner of the Acropole Hotel and general fixer for problems (at a price, a large price) confirmed that the visa was on it's way but stuck in traffic. The invitation letter from NCAM (the National Committee for Archaeology and Museums) Kate (the other dig director and good stick as well) sent me via Email and which I had on my iPhone, did not impress anybody.

Closing time for check-in and I was eventually allowed to depart without visa. 

Arrival in Khartoum where it was still quite hot (about 30° at 5 pm) was different, but not much. We had to wait for my visa to get pasted in my passport and get stamped. So some minor waiting there. Taxi drive to the Acropole showed Khartoum to be a sprawling city with wide streets flanked by single story buildings, few trees and lots of red sand everywhere. Sort of like the outer 'burbs of Luxor but then much bigger. 

An African feel to everything as well.

At the Acropole Kate and Alan (Pam's hubby and my pole monkey for the season but actually a very accomplished paleobotanist and overall nice guy(with a slightly odd sense of music)) were waiting. As was part of the team of Amara with whom we were to travel up north.

The geologists Judith and Graham and an adult student, Nick, were still to arrive at 4 am that night.

Sesebi, Sudan

This is where I will be staying the next three weeks, if all goes as planned; Jebel Sese, near Delgo, North Sudan

Getting ready for Sudan

In preparation for the Sudan campaign, the day after tomorrow, part of my time has been spent running around Cairo trying to get vaccinations, visa, permits, clothes etc etc. Particulary getting vaccinations is a treat.

In the Netherlands there are a few places to go and where you can basically get all you need. They usually are pretty backlogged and require appointments weeks in advance of departure.

Cairo does it topsy-turvey. You go in the office, sometimes like the one in the picture, say what you need (in my case Yellow Fever), plonk EGL 73 on the table (equivalent to € 10!!), bear your arm and get jabbed. Within 3 minutes you're standing outside with a nice pale blue stamp and several scribbles in your vaccination passport.

The big trouble is finding out where to get the vaccinations. My booster shot for Hep A went fairly easy, a huge complex called VacSera in Mohandiseen, open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. This system is slightly different, it is the same as in large stores like Omar Effendi and other shops; you go to the counter, tell them what you want, they write out a receipt which you bring to the cashier, pay up and in this case get the vaccine with included sterile needle in a refrigerated package, go back to the counter or room where you had the receipt filled out and have them insert the needle into your flesh. This whole endevour took about 7 minutes.

In both cases the actual innoculation only took minutes, finding out where you get them took days, almost a week. Yellow fever wasn't done at VacSera and the only indication I got where I could get it, was; "Midan Giza, near Giza Train Station". After driving there with my on-call taxidriver, Ramadan and me trying desperately to explain what I needed, he asked around. On Giza street I had to get out, follow some bloke through all kinds of alleyways, buildings and courtyards to end up in an office on the ground floor of the building above, way in the back. I actually think it was a different building. Not very reassuring, I can tell you. And 3 minutes later I was done, in the taxi, driving back to Zamalek. 

I'm so glad the vaccination's valid for 10 years, don't want to have to imagine doing that every year.  

So tomorrow I'm off to the Sudan for 3 weeks. I say this with confidence though there is a small chance I will be back the day after tommorow; I do not have a visa yet, it is supposed to be waiting for me at Khartoum airport. Since the other team members are all British, they got all theirs from the embassy in London. The very easy to get visa to get became more difficult to acquire. Since I could not part with my passport, I went for the embassy here in Cairo.

Internet research (there's a contradiction in terms) showed it was either extermely easy or almost impossible. So giving it a go, went to the embassy  just before Christmas because that was when I was sent the letter of invitation from the Sudanese Institute of Archaeology and Museums. Without this any kind of action would have been futile.

After having filled in new forms-the ones for the London Embassy were not accepted and having copies made ( Two pound please) I went to the plexiglassed counter, had quick chat with the guy behind it where I was going (I come from Dongola, it is very nice there, much nicer than rest of Sudan) and handed him my pack of papers and a €100 note. 

This is when the problems began, it was $100 and they had no change so I had to go change it at a bank. Bank 1 only helped accountholders, Bank 2 did not exchange money (what kind of bank is that), Bank 3 same thing, Bank 4 took the Euros and changed them into Egyptian Pounds and took 15 minutes, after me explaining that I needed Dollars, not Pounds to tell me that they couldn't do that. Bank 2 did that....NOT. 

When I finally managed to get the Euros changed into Dollars the embassy had closed. Went back the next day after being in touch with Kate Spence, the person in charge of all Sesebi paperwork and asked how long it would take. Bukra, the infamous "tomorrow" or "manyana" was the answer, with the always confidence inspiring "Inchallah" after it. 

Other tourist sitting in the passport office of the Sudanese embassy told they had been coming back for five days in a row after being told it would take 5 days. So they were on day 10 and I did not have that time. Kate opted for another option, George of the Acropole Hotel in Khartoum. He would arrange to have the visa waiting at the airport and I would have a copy sent to me.

This morning George mailed me and asked for the flight details, a second signature was missing and couldn't be gotten before tomorrow morning. Even Sudan has gone over to the 5 day workweek for civil servants, recently. The visa would be at the airport. I just needed to tell the people at Egypt Air, when asked about the visa, or lack thereof, that I would be responsible for buying a ticket back to Cairo if things didn't work out. He assured me they would though.

How reassuring.

This by the way is where I will be for the largest part of the season, Jebel Sese, near Delgo

Little Things, The Holy See... It, Now You Don't

For all the good things Google Earth has, it does sometimes take away the magic. For over a year now, every time I walk past the embassy of the Vatican, I marvel at the total uselessness of it. From the street the embassy consists of an entrance gate and an exit gate, joined by a roundabout in the middle of which a flag-post stands. Occasionally sporting a huge yellow and white flag, occasionally empty. I've always thought this to be very suiting for the Vatican; a whole lot of pomp and prestige for virtually nothing as no buildings seem to be between the gates and the bank of the Nile. Flights of fantasy about buildings being underground or hidden on the riverbank flitted around briefly but were dismissed for the theory of total uselesness.

Although I've tried to take pictures of this situation, I've never been able to get away with it without the guards in front noticing.

Now with Google Earth it becomes saddingly clear that the building is to the south, hidden from the street view by another building.  Blast Google Earth, bursting bubbles like that. They should be banned.

Little Things, Furry Little Things

Living in Cairo means a different approach to lots of things. Here most houses have secondary staircases. Originally staff entrances and access to flats for the garbage collectors. Now the staircase at the back is where you deposit the garbage bags. In my case, living on the ground floor and living in a place with continuous plumbing problems (tho I'm by no means the only one) it means my house is (and as I heard this week, always was) a playground for mice and other animals.

One of my houseguest of the human kind, left a few bags with flower and cornflakes on the kitchen counter. Coming back from Aswan I discovered the mice had discovered the bags and already eagerly gnawed their way through the plastic. A large amount of cornflakes had disappeared under the microwave from where light crunchy sounds could be heard all day and especially all night long. 

A quick peek with a flashlight partially exposed two very small round mice irritated at being disturbed in their cornflakes fest. Alison (one of the house-guests for a week) didn't quite name them yet but already lost her heart to the little grey rodents with, as she observed, ginger patches on the chest.

A few days later one of them was discovered in the bathtub and let out using a towel as a ladder.

The bathtub, for some reason or other, held a huge attraction for the mice. In two days time two of the little round furry critters managed to get themselves trapped in there. Much to my pleasure. I haven't found anything resembling a humane mouse trap here; they have glue and pellets. I have a bathtub.

All I needed to do was gather them up in container, walk them down to the river and let them loose there. The biggest mousetrap I've ever seen and it cleans out really easy...

The Pound Tower of Babylon

I spent a day at the Roman Tower excavations, done by Pete Sheehan in the Old Cairo area, drawing the kiln they found a while ago and doing quick recordings of the colonnade blocks seen in the photo. 

The sign to the entrance of the Tower is only a year or so old but already it's missing parts. Well, missing, they've been eroded away. So the Round Tower of the Fortress of Babylon became the Pound Tower.

The tower is one of two (the other is now incorporated into the Church of St. George, the Mari Girgi) and was heavily under threat of rising groundwater. Pete did amazing things digging and recording and managing the water problem. All to published at some point or other. For the reconstruction a plan of what the (multi-storied) colonnade might have looked like needs to be made. That's where I come in. We only had a day or so to take measurements of the fragments. Apparently that was enough cos I even had time to draw the section/elevation of the kiln that Alison and Pete worked on the last week and a half. 

A nice diversion from the daily inking I've been doing until now. Just my luck that we had a sandstormey kind of day on the one day I worked there. 

It is supposed to be opened to the public at one point or another and for that reason a contractor was brought in to restore the tower. The unsubtle white blocks in the walls and the amount of crud on the floor is the result of that. That's why conservators spend such a long time studying stuff and why it takes them forever to finish their reconstructions. Quality instead quantity....

A House Full of Women

About two weeks ago I had guests. My place isn't that big but I do have a guest-room. Of course as Murphey's laws have it, you never get one guest, they sometimes come in threes. No problem with that. I just bought a new couch which can double as bed tho my idea was to watch TV on it in a horizontal position with the option of dozing off (it needs a new cover and cushions obviously).

Pam and Alison shared the bed in the guest-room and Gilian, who arrived last and stayed shortest, got the couch. A coincidental run-in with Menna and Ilka and a planned visit from Salima brought the tally up to 6. Nick was in Dakhla so I was the only guy. They all look scared and frightened I know, but I assure you that's due to the unexpected flash of the camera. There was lots of hilarity (vibrating toothbrushes one of the main themes) and a fair amount of G&T's.

Just that morning Alison and Pam and Gilian left the flat at the same time as I did, after having taken showers and of course we all ran into my Bawaba, Umm Tamr, a little black-dressed woman, who greeted us with a cheery good morning, an impish grin from ear to ear and in my imagination a "two thumbs up" sign. It's good for my street creds on the Mohammed Mazhar. I'm the guy with three women now. Not sure I'm doing the reputation of foreigners much good tho....

Little Things, Cairo Kitsch

Where else but in Cairo can you find a store that sells plaster casts for your garden (?) and find a mixture of styles that sets your hairs on end and curls up your toes; a wingéd Niké, a Roman Emperor, a golfer, the Chef from the animated movie "Ratatouille", a huge pink flamingo, some classic guy with a major migraine, another chef, crocodile with gaping maw, hideously ugly pots, panther and a camel 

Nope, definitely not going to buy anything there

The Eid, Day Two

This is the second day of the Eid and the partying is still not done. Just around the corner where I live, I find the remains of yesterday's feast. See how many sheep you can identify.

Further down the street indications that the partying is long from over. Most of the pharmacies and stores selling food and gifts are open. In one, just off the 26th july street, preparations are made for tonight's festivities. Not really sure I want to buy my medicine or baby-formula there to be honest. Or could it be that they are actually trying to save the poor beast. Local surgery? After all it's belly and legs have already been shaven. I think I'll go for the second option.

The idea of killing an animal on and next to the sign of Aesclepius is just wrong. And that's not even thinking about health and safety issues. Health and safety? This is Egypt, man!

Little Things, Rules for Traffic

Egypt is cracking down on traffic violators. New regulations say  that motor riders need helmets. Since Egyptian motorists haven't used helmets since the Greeks left the country (and I'm talking ancient Greeks here) and they have no places to actually buy the helmets, the national sense of improvising has been used. Now you see all manner of safety headwear on top of the new and extremely cheap (price as well as quality cheap) Chinese motorcycles. Hardhats are favourite although  now and then you can see a cooking pot, filled with cloth and tied down with strings from the handles on someone's head doing 40 km/h or more in Cairo traffic.

The other thing is the seatbelt. All drivers are required to wear them now. Half a year ago they consisted mainly of swaths of black cloth screwed against the doorframe or used belts without clasp that were quickly draped over shoulders when policemen were visible. 

Now they seem to have the real thing, properly fixed and actually fixed on both ends of the safety device. Sitting in the taxi of Ramadan, my favourite taxidriver, just flown in from Aswan and wondering about the speed of change in Cairo, I find out that it all seems to be well. As soon as Ramadan hits the brakes tho I discover the ruse has merely become more elaborate. the illusion of safety is larger but still only an illusion. The belt is not fixed to the braking system  so if there is a pile-up I will still fly through the front window but only after having my collarbone being broken by the belt. 

Litte Things, Poor Bastard Reprise

Just gleaned a bit of Intel on the statue to be executed. For all you conservators, this should give you a couple of jollies: the head is actually a cast from the original from the BM or the Louvre or any other major museum in the world. It had been fixed on the torso before the people responsible realized that the colour was way off and, here's the kicker, the material of which it was made deteriorates quite quickly in direct sunlight. I mean, Luxor is well known for it's cloudy skies and weak sun. It's not like it's in Africa or something.

't Is the Season To Be...... Slaughtered

The Eid is upon us again, here in Egypt. Imagine Christmas but then with the Christmas goose being so fresh that it has to be decapitated and plucked before you can eat. Same thing here but then with larger animals. Rams and ewes are a definite favourite.

Not unlike with Christmas I discover I need to buy essential stuff (in this case a new floater system for the toilet as it is running continuously, not very christmassy I know but what can I do?)just before or slightly after all the shops have closed. So after sunset I wander over the 26th July street, main traffic and shopping street here on Zamalek. All shops are closed but for food stores and kiosks, oh and the mobile phone shops. The butcher's shop on the 26th has strings of lights in all colours. It really does look nice, until you see the dozens of stripped and naked sheep carcasses hanging in front of the shop. The middle area of the street, covered by the fly-over and usually a fully packed parking area, now is home to dozens of sheep, milling around a feeding trough in a roughly made pen.

Sort of the before and after shots. Before; alive and bleating and woolly (matted but woolly) and after hanging upside down striped red and pink and very much dead.

I guess that around midnight the first of these live sheep will not be anymore.

In a more sickening manner, the Alfa Market, a supermarket catering to foreigners and rich Egyptians, has a small pen with a crappy and becrappéd piece of carpet. There, two little lambs attract the attention. Photos are being made, little children pet the nice little sheep. It's kinda weird, a final petting zoo. Fat chance you'll see those cute little lambs tomorrow kids. At least not in this shape and form and vitality.

Happy Eid all.....

Little Things, poor bastard

Just another little thing of notice on the Westbank. Makes you wonder what the poor bastard did to piss people off that bad that they're ready to execute him. Also makes you wonder if they realize he's actually stone

Little Things

In a huge city like Cairo and a weird country like Egypt, there are lots of little incidents, accidents and other -cents that make me smile, raise eybrows or just roll my eyes. This is one I saw yesterday on my way to Salima for a very nice prawn-rice-dhal meal. On the Brazil street there's a small kiosk that sells water, magazines and second hand books. Slightly off the kiosk two black clad army conscripts (most likely from the delta or the Red Sea coast) were leafing through a fashion magazine somehow obtained from the kiosk owner. Their excitement in going back and forward through the pages reminded me of 15 year olds sneaking a peek at the Playboys on station kiosks. 

Something similar but more much funny (the above was just recognisable) was cycling past a coffee house on the road from the ferry to the German House on the Westbank in Luxor. They have small teevees with a grainy, wobbly reception. Usually the TV is merely background noise amongst all the other background noises. In this case, everyone was glued to the tube. Shishas (the hooka water pipes) were left smoldering, tea and coffee was getting cold but on the screen, in one of the many music/video shows they have in the Near East, Madonna was performing her song from the last Pierce Brosnan Bond. You know, the one in which she is clad in leather, be it sparsely, and singing and dancing as Madonna does. I looked back at this spectacle and almost drove off the road.... 

Beginnings

Well, here we are, attempting to keep others appraised of what and where I am, even more irrelevant dots and ones cluttering up the Internet.

 I'm back home in Cairo and trying to balance the several projects that still need drawings done and making the flat more pleasant to live in. The very crudely patched hole in the bathroom ceiling doesn't help much. Nor do the several drawings that need to be finished before mid December. 

The hole happened while Antje and Micha, two friends from Hannover, were staying here for a week while I was down in Luxor (that's an entirely different story and a bit of a boring one). After innocently inquiring per text how things were, I was surprised to hear my bathroom being described as a construction site. Immediately on arrival I asked the Bawaba (Bab= door or gate, the Bawab is someone who sits in front of the door and does upkeep, small errands (or even larger errands), asks strangers where the hell they think they're going and in absence pays the weekly gas and electric bills) what had happened. A big bespectacled grin and a thumbs up sign, assured me that all was right.

My bathroom has never been the best the place in the house, even before my taking over the flat, but now it's pathetic. In a corner there's a 30 cm diameter splash of concrete smeared on the ceiling. Then there's the spray of concrete drops over the rest of the bathroom and the grimy hand-prints on the ceiling, which is slowly (though lately not so slowly) shedding its layers of paint; sickly yellowish paint. Renovation is desperately needed and I'm willing to, waiting to, wanting to but there's just too much work that I have to finish.