Camping out in the Desert

A few weeks ago, I, a black girl traditionally confined to a small town suburban bubble, embarked on the unthinkable...I packed my travel on and went camping.Gasp...lol

This was unlike any camping experience one could ever imagine; our initial camp ground, The White Desert.

Unfortunately when we had reached camp grounds we were told a sand storm was looming near by and so we moved settlement to a small village called Al Hyaz. =(

Despite the disappointing last minute alteration of plans I had a marvelous time.

Here was our 3 day itinerary along with complementary photos.

Drive to Bahariya Oasis - an isolated oasis a few hours drive from Cairo
arrive in Bawiti and check in at Sandrose Bahariya hotel (oh yes we were definitely "roughing it" lol)
roam around the Museum of the Golden Mummies
arrive at the Temple of Ain al-Muuftella
make our way to the Tomb of Noble Bannity
visit two-chamber temples
group swim in a cold spring
climb the Black Mountain and frolic along inactive volcanoes 0_o
visit Bebel el Dist (Magic Mountain)
four wheel drive excursion up a 15 meter Sand Dune in the Black Desert
picnic at the Al Hyaz , a small village
stop through Crystal Mountain finally arrive at the White Desert
set up camp at Al Hyaz

Hours prior to sunrise I scurried up on top of the hood of our jeep and patiently awaited sun rise.
Scattered stars scampered across the night sky, as shooting stars cascaded over our camp site... those moments were pure bliss.

Exploring inside a Pyramid!!

Before I begin my longwinded rant on the historical significance of these various pyramids, I must first express how thrilled I was to not only gawk at such monumental structures but to actually explore the internal chambers of the Red Pyramid! It was INCREDIBLE!!

Now despite how awesome it was to galavant around the inside of these ancient colossal tombs, I must inform you of the gruesome smell that strangled unsuspecting lungs, while inside the pyramid. The overwhelming scent of toxic gasses saturated our nasal canals, as we desperately gasped for air.

Oh and how could I not mention the narrow tunnel that served as the only entrance and exit into the heart of the pyramid? (see photos 10,11& 13 below)

Each of us cautiously proceeded in with bent backs, heads crouched, knees to chest and waddled down, and later up, the steep tunnel into the dark pits of the pyramid... My heart lost its rhythmic pattern when the flickering dim lights inside the pyramid went out and left petrified eyes in darkness. 0_o

As for a little history:

Saqqara "is a vast, ancient burial ground in Egypt, serving as the necropolis ( large cemetery) for the Ancient Egyptian capital, Memphis. Saqqara features numerous pyramids, including the world famous Step pyramid of Djoser. Djsoer's step pyramid is the oldest complete stone building complex known in history.""

Dahshur is a royal necropolis located in the desert on the west bank of the Nile." A few famous pyramids located in Dahshur that we've seen:

The Bent Pyramid : "The shape of the Bent Pyramid is unique; it represents a transitional pyramid form believed to have been the result of an engineering crisis encountered during its construction."
The Red Pyramid: "The world's first true smooth-sided pyramid."
The Black Pyramid: "Earned the name for its dark, decaying appearance as a rubble mound. The pyramid is not very sturdy , as it was built with mud brick instead of the traditional stone."

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dahshurhttp://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saqqara

Insert N***a Here

Only days after a newborn plummets from the depths of its mothers womb and expels its first breath of air, does a naming ceremony anxiously ensue. This is a common tradition throughout various regions of Africa. The name chosen for a child, is perceived by many African cultures as a form of foreshadowing the child's future successes and is an integral component in the child's spiritual relationship with God.

As for my "highly pigmented" brotha's and sista's through out the world, we too have unknowingly taken part in African traditions and have had a naming ceremony of our own.

Our naming ceremony began in the 80's and roared through radio waves, ricocheted against boom-box speakers and took television by storm.It took venue alongside the sunlit back alleys of Compton, the graffiti tagged brick walls of Oakland, and the littered inner city ghettos of the Boogie Down Bronx. Our celebratory ceremony was financially endorsed by the mainstream sub-genre of Hip Hop, globally known as Gangsta Rap.

What do I mean by this?

Gangsta Rap provided a platform for seductive beats to publicly fornicate with catchy word play and rhyme schemes, publicly conceiving the mainstream rebirth and globalization of the N-word, a word that had yet to be emancipated from it's shackled roots upon the oppressive and sun battered southern plantations of America.

I say all of this to share a quick story:

A few weeks ago, as I was walking the dim lit back streets of my neighborhood in Dokki, making sure to plant each foot forward, stern yet quick to avoid confrontational eyes and unwanted attention , I was cut off my path by a few Egyptian teenage boys. They huddled around me performing a few crude gestures as they approached. Before fear could override my state of confusion the most courageous of the bunch spat out, "What up my N***a," as the rest harmonized in the background with laughter. Enraged, disturbed, and dumbfounded I broke my way through their bonfire of cackles, refusing to remain the target of their amusement.

So to Gangster Rap and any other form of entertainment that embraces the use of the N-word I say thank you... because I honestly feel like i'm walking around Cairo with a name tag that reads...

Hello my name is ...[insert N***a here]

* This is an incident that has occurred on more than one occasion*

THE LONE AFRO IN EGYPT

I am completely unfamiliar with the texture, color,and curl pattern of my OWN hair. I do not recall the last time I had the luxury of running my fingers through my OWN unprocessed hair... EVER, not until I went natural just a couple of years ago. I have had processed, permed, box-braided hair and sew in extensions for nearly all of my life. I believe my first relaxer dates as far back as kindergarten. I chopped off my over processed hair two years ago, and in its place sits a thick mass of tough coils and curls. To be honest I have no clue what to do with the mounds of hair that sits slumped upon my head lol. I barley know how to comb this mass of hair without breaking bristles or what oils to feed it to keep my fro glimmering in this dry Egyptian weather. It's all a learning process for me, and a rather slow one at that.

Unfortunately, I coinviently decided to embrace and reintroduce myself to the natural me in a country that has rarely, if ever, seen hair of this texture before.

The stares, the comments, the head turns, the pointing , and the giggles from children and adults is all enough to make me want to throw on a hijab (Muslim women head covering)and borrow a new identity for the remainder of my stay, just to silence their eyes.

...but I won't.... and my pride says I can't ...

My hair is just another portion of me that Egypt and I will just have to get use to.

ENOUGH of the tourist photos... how do you REALLY feel ?

To talk about my feelings in a direct manner is sort of a taboo in my book. Actually to speak of them at all may as well be haram (Arabic for forbidden). So if you will, please be patient and follow me as I express myself metaphorically... (i'll try not to loose you)

My stay in Egypt thus far is an experience made of fermented emotions from a silent and distraught mind.

I have funneled my frustrations into the narrow necks of oversized hollow bottles for years, simultaneously pouring emotions in and securely fastening contents in with a cork.

Simply put, I bottle my emotions and like fine wine I set them aside and watch them age with time.

I have accumulated and continue to add to my large cellar of bottled emotions but I think its time I pop the cork on my newly distilled sentiments on Egypt and this new culture I have senselessly thrown myself into.

Race prior to my visit to Egypt was an over sensitized issue that plagued the social, political and economic advancement of the West. A term that pitted one nation, the United States, against itself and mocked the fragile unity of Americas fifty so called "united" states.

My views on race have since transformed and morphed into a new demon, now that my temporary place of residence is now in Cairo, Egypt.

I am a Nigerian-American who boarded a flight for Africa and landed in the "Middle East," a Eurocentric term that has stolen Africa's Northern region and simultaneously claimed western Asia its own.

I am a black girl who made the naive mistake of being too melanin rich, too "nappy- headed", too full lipped and flat nosed to be.... in Africa

who would of thought?

I guess it would be silly of me to still wishfully hope that palm oil & water will ever mix

Dessert is the MOST important meal of the day!

CHOCOLATE is the solution to ALL of the worlds problems!... let your eyes indulge.. Enjoy!

A Taste of the Mediterranean

Alexandria is well known for its delicious dishes inspired by the sea. So we dined out to indulge in some sea food delicacies. I was persuaded into trying octopus for the first time. I figured if I could fall in love with sushi I could tolerate the taste of an octopuses tentacles tapping against my taste buds lol. It wasn't a bad experience ... I may even willingly do it again. =)

As for the fish, which were tastefully adorned with colorful peppers and seasoned onions, it was divine!! The shrimp's were HUGE, and still had their antennas and eyes intact. 0_o