Tag: Jane Sadek

Accommodations, DESTINATIONS, International, TRAVEL

Pre-Wedding at the Fairmont

Jane Sadek
The American Contingency

Travel There: Photos, Metal Detectors and Machine Guns

So it was here, the reason we had come to Egypt.  My nephew Bassem is very dear to both of us and his wedding is just about the only thing that could have convinced Bill to go Egypt.  On the afternoon of the wedding, we left our room at the appointed hour and headed to the lobby for pictures.

Pictures at Four

Family members were told to be in the lobby at four for pictures, but it quickly became obvious that was 4 PM Egyptian time.  The American contingency was dutifully in the lobby by 4:15, but it was a very lonely lobby.  I can’t say I didn’t enjoy the time I spent visiting with the guys, Bill, Steven and John, but in spite of myself, I was wishing I’d had a little more time to solve the electrical emergency.  I had really wanted those tendrils.

All dressed up with somewhere to go.

About 4:45 the Egyptian contingency wandered into the lobby and we were a good-looking bunch.  When everyone was assembled we were marched out onto the lawn to be photographed.  There was a certain amount of frisson, but I blamed it on wedding jitters and a ticking clock.  What I didn’t know was that the bus to take us to the wedding hadn’t arrived yet and there were serious negotiations going on with the hotel about how many guards with machine guns would escort us to the wedding.

Yes, I Said Machine Guns

There was a certain amount of friction throughout the trip about the status of the people in our party.  We were visiting just days after the Palm Sunday bombings, so security was high.  Most of the members of the family were Egyptian, in origin if not in passport, but they considered themselves Egyptian.  Some of the exceptions were pint-sized kids born in the US to Egyptian parents, but they looked just like any kid born to an Egyptian – olive skin, dark curly hair and big brown eyes.  The other exceptions were Steven, John and myself.  We looked like tourists, plain and simple, and American tourists at that.

Even though most of the people in our party considered themselves Egyptian, that’s not how the other Egyptians saw us at all.  To them we were a bunch of foreigners.  The idea of 20 or 30 of theses foreigners traveling by bus from the Fairmont to a Coptic Church created fear and trembling to the hotel’s staff.  They intended to keep their name off the evening news by providing us with protection, and that protection was two guys with machine guns.

On the bus with the groom

To my Egyptians, the armed guards seemed like a red neon arrow pointing to us saying, “Blow this bus up!”  While the photographer tried to get pictures of the whole crew smiling at once, some very tense conversations were going on behind the scenes.  The bus arrived and a compromise was reached.  We’d have one armed guard and his machine gun would stay out of sight unless needed.

The machine gun guy did pretty good.  He looked just like most of the rest of the guys on the bus – dressed in a suit, headed to a wedding.  As we approached the church, he unbuttoned his coat and wrapped his fingers around the gun.  I can assure you that did not make me feel more secure.

Entering the church was just like entering a hotel, museum or other area.  You either put your purse on the table or cleaned out your pockets.  Then you entered the metal detector.  On the other side, someone would rifle through your belongings to be sure that tiny beaded bag didn’t have a weapon in it.  Perhaps they would frisk you for whatever reason they picked out, be it concern or just a random practice.  We stood around on the steps of the church for awhile and then it was showtime.

Come back next week and hear all about it.

DESTINATIONS, International, Road Trips, TRAVEL

The Electrical Emergency

Jane Sadek
What do you think? Not bad for an old lady with an electrical emergency?

TRAVEL THERE: THAT MOMENT WHEN YOU HAVE TO PUNT

Bill’s taking a nap.  Our clothes are pressed and ready to wear.  It’s time to do my hair and make-up.  What could go wrong?

The Electrical Emergency

We’d discovered an AC/DC outlet in the bathroom as soon as we arrived.  We’d been recharging our phones since then without any trouble, so I assumed I wouldn’t have any difficulty with my hair appliances.

I’d had a hair appointment hours before I got on the plane and planned to put my own hair up into a French knot, using one of those long-fingered combs that makes it a relatively easy thing to do, even for me.  This particular comb had rhinestones and pearls on it, so I thought I was going to be pretty cute.  We all know that slightly dirty hair is easier to put up than when it’s freshly-washed, so I was all set.  The finishing touch was going to be wispy tendrils all around my face and neckline to soften the look.

While Bill took his nap, I plugged in my tendril curling iron, whipped my hair into the French knot and put on my make-up.  The tendril curling iron didn’t heat up.  I’ve had it for a hundred years and don’t make tendrils very often, so I laughed at myself, thinking I’d carried a broken curling iron all the way to Egypt.  Not to worry, I still had a regular barreled curling iron, electric curlers and a flat iron.  Surely something would work.  Nada!

I began to panic.  The women in the family had suggested several times that I take advantage of the hairdresser who was coming to the hotel to do their hair.  The bride had her own hairdresser, but everyone else was sharing another guy.  I’m funny about my hair and usually when a new person does my hair they freak me out.  I end up with a bouffant larger than something from the Sixties and want nothing more than to hide until it deflates.  Right then the bouffant sounded pretty good.  Sure I’d gotten my hair up into the French knot, but I needed tendrils.

Just about then, Mr. Bill woke up and, as calmly as I possibly could, I told him I needed his help with an electrical emergency.  First he performed all the plug-ins and plug-outs I’d already performed, but that was fine.  I hoped he’d hold his tongue just right and make everything better.  That didn’t happen, but we did locate another AC/DC plug next to the desk, so we tried again.  This time the tendril curling iron heated right up and I thought I was set.  Mr. Bill headed into the bathroom and I pulled out various wisps of hair to curl.

I picked up the curling iron and was about to curl my first tendril when I realized smoke was coming out of the barrel.  I ripped the plug out of the wall and tried the next curling iron.  It wasn’t behaving properly either.  I attempted a few curls, but I was scared the overly-hot implements were going to melt my hair.  That’s all I needed to ruin my day – melted hair for the wedding and every other event for the balance of the trip.

I tried wrapping the tendrils around my fingers and spraying them with hair spray.  Nope, Lori had done entirely too good of a job making my naturally curly hair straight.  I couldn’t get it to curl for the life of me.

Thankfully, I had not pulled too many tendrils out or I would have had to start all over.  It would have looked like my French knot had simply come untied.  My look was not complete, but I had about 15 minutes to slide into my waiting clothes and get downstairs for pictures.

As I put on my dress and accessories, I had a talk with myself.  This was Mariam’s day, not mine.  I was not going to let a little electrical emergency ruin it for me.  I thought I looked a little more severe than I had intended, but I’d just go with it and pretend I’d wanted this very sleek look.

On to the family photo session.

Accommodations, DESTINATIONS, International, TRAVEL

My Ahhhhhh Day

Jane Sadek

TRAVEL THERE: TAKING IT EASY

After seeing off the guys, my first stop was the laundry.  I was wondering if they’d be able to press my dress and Bill’s suit for the wedding.  Nope, they were closed for the holiday.  That determined a lot of what I’d be doing for the day.

An Hour at the Spa

The spa was on the other side of the pool.  As soon as I exited the building, a nice lady wanted to help me out with my pool arrangements, but I didn’t want a towel, a chair or a cabana.  I was just passing through.

If you’re interested, the spa was quite nice.  I spent my hour on the treadmill,  I actually prefer a recumbent bike to a treadmill, but I wasn’t at home.  There was a nice variety of workout machines and stations, but no bikes, so I made do.  The gym area was neat, attractive and clean, not the cluttered mess of some hotel’s workout rooms and all the equipment worked!  They had bottled water, towels, magazines and other amenities to enjoy.  More than once an attendant checked on me to see I had everything I needed.  High points for the spa.

Those Semi-Wrinkled Clothes

In spite of folding tissue paper in with our wedding clothes, as my mother had taught me to do, when I pulled them out of the suitcase in the wee hours of Saturday night, they looked like a wadded mess.  Late Monday morning all Bill’s suit needed was a little touching up, but my dress was still pretty pathetic looking.  The bodice with all the beads were fine, but that full skirt looked pretty bad and the sheer lace over-blouse was still a mess.  Since attacking it with an iron almost ensured I’d melt some of the sheer chiffon in the skirt, I tried the old traveler’s trick – a steamy bathroom.

I hung the dress and blouse up over the toilet, glad for the commode’s lid, and took a very long hot shower with the shower door open and the bathroom door closed.  By the end of the shower I had a lake on the floor and the room was pretty steamy, but the gown needed more.

I toweled down and put on the fluffy terry robe provided by the hotel.  I made the water from the shower even hotter than I could tolerate on my skin, opened up the hot water tap on the sink all the way and escaped from the bathroom, trying to leave as much steam as I could behind.  I gave it about 15 minutes and then checked on the progress.  The room was all steam, but the dress was still a little wrinkly.  I turned off the water, gave my outfit a good shaking out and then left everything in the steamy bathroom.

As the wrinkles melted, I caught up with my travel journal, spent some time on social media, read a little, did some crossword puzzles and entertained myself with various distractions.  I’d opened the window to the perfect weather outside and was glad the hotel actually had operable windows.  I enjoyed hearing cocks crow throughout the nearby neighborhood and I’m pretty sure I heard a peacock.  Some kind of black birds cackles dominated the sound track for a while, but they moved on.  I’m sure there were traffic noises, but thankfully, faint enough to ignore.  From time to time I’d hear the crash of a metal tray or the sound of something heavy being dropped.  It was pleasant.

A return to the bathroom revealed the steam had all dissipated.  The dress was fine. The over-blouse still needed some help.  The room had a very nice full-sized ironing board with a heavily padded cover which I wished I had at home.  The full-sized iron had markings in both English and Arabic.  I was in business.

The blouse took no time at all, but the suit actually ended up giving me some challenges.  I wished I had put it in the steamy bathroom after all, but now it was too late to start all over.  Just about the time I got it and Bill’s white shirt professional laundry perfect, in walked the man himself.  He was earlier than I anticipated.  Khan-il-Kalilli had been a big disappointment, a dearth of dealers because of the holiday and far too dirty to be enchanting.  They’d found a cafe and enjoyed some down time, too.

Now Bill was ready for a nap and it was time to start on my hair and makeup.  Comeback next week and see what happened next.

Accommodations, DESTINATIONS, International, Restaurants & Bars, Road Trips, TRAVEL

Wedding Morning Breakfast at the Fairmont

Jane Sadek
Quiche at Le Marche

TRAVEL THERE: WHAT I DID ON THE DAY OF THE WEDDING

Waking up in my hotel room, my first thought was, “This is it.  Bassem and Mariam’s wedding day.”  My next thought was a sense of gratefulness that I hadn’t allowed Bill to talk me into a tour on the day of the wedding.  I planned to relax all day.

Back to Le Marche Cafe

When we headed out of the room on our second morning at the Fairmont, there was no question about where we’d have breakfast.   We were going to Le Marche, as much for the delicious food as for our friend, Ahmed. We were momentarily disappointed when Ahmed was not there to greet us, but when we asked for him, the other guy faded into the background and a wide-smiling Ahmed appeared to welcome us back.

We sat down to peruse the menu and enjoyed several chance encounters with family, who passed to and fro in the lobby.  The groom scooted by on an errand, then along came the bride and her mother with a trail of attendants.  The attendants were in charge of the luggage and a rolling rack which was transporting the wedding gown.  Don’t worry the gown was completely covered, so there was no peeking.  Double kisses all around!

Next to arrive were nephew Steven and his friend John.  They decided to join us for breakfast and enjoy the attentions of Ahmed, the new friend of the family.  The meal was delightful.  I ordered a scone and got a second one on the house.  Steven ordered a chocolate croissant and got a Danish to boot.  Bill was delighted by his generous slice of quiche.  John, however, did not have such great fortune with his selection.

John’s Egyptian fantasy meal was a plate of fresh dates and figs.  He arrived a day or two before we did and asked for this delicacy at every opportunity and though he continued his quest throughout the whole trip, I don’t think he found it anywhere.  So much for Raiders of the Lost Ark.  Ahmed was so disappointed to admit he couldn’t provide the plate of dates and figs, but he suggested fruit instead.

John wanted to know how the fruit was presented.  “Is it on a platter or in a bowl?” John asked.  “Whatever you like,” Ahmed assured him.  “Is it a fruit salad?” John asked.  “No,” Ahmed replied, “it is a salad in a bowl.”  That being settled, John decided to see what would appear.

Ahmed roamed back and forth between the kitchen and the table.  Beverages were the first to appear and for awhile it seemed that was about all we were going to get.  Then the orders dribbled out.  First the pastries.  Then a while later, Bill got his quiche.  We were all just about done, when we started making noise about the missing fruit.  Ahmed was contrite in his protestations and assured us the fruit was almost there.

Ahmed, you were a treasure, but the fruit bowl, salad or whatever was a disappointment!  I’m sure any American could have driven to the nearest Kroger, bought some grapes, apples and oranges, returned home to chop them up into a bowl and then delivered them to the family, faster than Ahmed delivered up the same boring bowl from somewhere in the bowels of the Fairmont.  Not even a pineapple slice, no melons, nothing.  Just grocery store fruit!

Going Separate Ways

Bill was still having a difficult time believing I did not want to fill up every moment of the trip with tours and museums, but I was truly new and improved.  When Steven and John suggested he join them for a trip to the Khan-il-Kalili, I had my fingers crossed he’d join them, so I could have some alone time.

The crossed fingers worked.  The guys headed off on their adventure and I created my own spa day.  Come back next week and see how it went.

DESTINATIONS, International, TRAVEL

Dropping in on Pre-Wedding Insanity

Jane Sadek
Fun in Heliopolis

TRAVEL THERE: JANE, THE PARTY-POOPER-OUTER

On the night before the wedding, Bill and I visited our family in the throes of insanity.  The drive to the apartment was chaotic, but that was nothing compared to what was going on inside when we arrived.  I can attempt to describe it to you, but you will only be able to understand glimpses of it.  I was there and I still can’t figure it all out.  

Last Minute Wedding Arrangements

The most entertaining of the  on-going activities, in my opinion, was the ritual of packing scotch into suitcases.  I’d been challenged by organizing three bottles into my checked luggage and all I had to worry about was a weight limit.  This operation was tied to an intense discussion of the seating arrangements which was going through endless changes, right there at the 11th hour.  I know all seating charts tend to be in constant flux, but both the bride and her soon-to-be sister-in-law were now on the verge of tears…or murder…or maybe both.

Rather than three bottles of one kind of scotch, the groom was in charge of countless bottles of scotch in a wide variety of brands, that were somehow being organized into suitcases, based on the seating chart discussion.  Egyptian weddings don’t have bars.  Bottles of scotch are delivered to the table by the waiters, but you don’t just buy X numbers of bottles of Y brand scotch.  Most people have a favorite brand and to honor them you must provide their brand of scotch.  On some tables there were people with varying tastes and decisions had to be made as to whether you moved the people or changed the scotch.

Thankfully, I was married in America and served the same champagne to everyone.  All this craziness was making me thankful for a lot of American things.

This very important scotch operation was frequently interrupted by calls to the groom from the so-called wedding planner, who was actually only a florist.  She was out of town and in spite of the many assurances she had provided that her absence would in no way effect the smooth execution of the wedding, she was now making call after call to inform the groom he was going to have to see to this being delivered or that being picked up.  To cope with it all the groom was helping the other family members consume the contents of several bottles of scotch which happened to be open and therefore were not being sorted into the suitcases.

Hanging with the Fam

The Ebb and Flow of It All

I heard rumors that the seating chart and scotch operation continued throughout the night, but I wouldn’t know, because, of course, I fell asleep and had to be taken back to the hotel far earlier than the end of the festivities.

From the moment we entered the apartment I was baffled by all the action going on around me.  I’d observed the sleeping children, seating arrangement frustrations and scotch packing in the bedrooms of the apartment.  Someone was cooking a meal in the kitchen.  A group of men were opening a bottle of champagne in the dining room.  I made my way to a sofa and acted as an observer.

Like the flora and fauna living in a tide pool, the occupants of the apartment crashed around the rooms in surges of waves and then settled into new pockets as the wave retreated.  One moment everyone would be in the dining room and then I’d find myself sitting alone in the living room with not a family member in sight.

One wave crashed the family into the living room with me and I was able to distribute those all-important gifts that had distracted me since we decided to go to Egypt.  As far as I know, the gifts were a great success, but even if they were all wrong, the family members pretended they were perfect.  See, they do love me, in spite of my otherness.

With the waves of people came waves of invitations to eat and drink.  Many of the invitations were verbal and usually included a long list of choices.  In spite of my continued protestations that I was fine, the invitations to eat and drink continued.  Eventually, the hostess began to ignore what I said and just bring boxes of pastry, bottles of water, a diet soda, sandwiches and a variety of other things to place on the coffee table in front of me.  Then I’d be offered another list of possible comestibles.

Once the gifts were open I began to drift into a snooze.  It was way past my bedtime.  I’m sure the details of getting back to the room were fascinating, but all I know was that I woke up the next day at the Fairmont.

DESTINATIONS, International, Road Trips, TRAVEL

Wandering Around Heliopolis

Jane Sadek
Inside a traffic jam

TRAVEL THERE: THE CRAZIEST TRAFFIC IN THE WORLD

Rent control isn’t the only problem in Egypt.  Try finding a trashcan.  If they were ever installed, they would probably be stolen.  In Giza I saw what could have been a lovely square in the town center, but all that was left was the metal frame of several benches on stark concrete.  The wooden slats had been removed and utilized elsewhere.  Weeds had filled what was intended as a garden spot and a layer of dust covered everything.  It was a small picture repeated in a variety of ways everywhere I looked. 

Our Tour of Heliopolis Continues

While I had thought Mona’s neighborhood was pretty crazy last time I was in Egypt, on this trip, super-imposed on the already crowded and confusing landscape was a construction project of gargantuan magnitude.  They are putting in an underground transit system.  Forget any American construction site where thoroughfares are rerouted with the use of bright orange detour signs and interruptions.  While these are frustrating, Americans usually keep these tangles contained in a manageable block of space.  This entire section of town was a construction site and no attempt was made to provide passage.

I honestly don’t know how the people were living in the midst of it.  All the main thoroughfares were blocked and side streets were all but impassable.  Navigation consisted of winding through the every day insanity of triple-parked cars and vendors setting up shop in the middle of the street.  And that was just the beginning of it.

I saw streets where 10-15 of the locals had dragged their lawn chairs (not that there were any lawns) out into the street for a good chat and smoke, while the detoured traffic tried to maneuver through the madness – spinning their steering wheels, honking their horns, waving their hands, lucky to make inches of progress and shouting their frustrations.  On almost every block you would come upon a small child standing in the middle of the street, with or without shoes, absently holding a toy and gazing into the distance.  Maybe they would move.  Maybe they wouldn’t.

And that dust I’ve made so much of?  The air was thick with it.  It didn’t just show up in a layer on coffee tables, it was thick in the very air you breathed.  I keep trying to figure out a way to explain it to you and all I can think to compare it to is an intense pinball machine, where the center section is completely blocked and the obstacles on the sides have been multiplied five-fold.  You would have to be the pinball wizard to play, because telekinesis would be your only hope of moving the ball.

And Suddenly We Were There

The horrendous traffic was a blessing of sorts, because no one could  throw me out of the car and drive away.  I could walk faster than they could drive.  Mirette suddenly turned into a parking lot and we were there.  We were the ones parked in the third row of the three-deep cars.

Next was the elevator.  I’m more of the stairs type, but I was warned away from them.  The apartment was ten stories up and each story had several flights of uneven stairs.  The elevator was so tiny that I didn’t know how Bill rode up with us with his extreme claustrophobia.  There were two elevators and even though there were only three of us, when it would open on a floor (and it opened on every floor), the potential rider would glance into the car and then wave us on.

Entering the apartment was like entering a riot.  Family members of all ages were spread throughout the rooms and in each room was the site of some kind of intense activity and none of the activities seemed related to what was going on in the other rooms.  One room did have several children sleeping in a bed, but I don’t know how they managed to do so with all the racket.

I have more to tell you about the fun evening, but you’ll have to come back next week!

Architecture, DESTINATIONS, International, Road Trips, TRAVEL

An Interlude for Observation

Jane Sadek

TRAVEL THERE: A LITTLE NIGHT WANDERING

Our lunch at Baalbak was great and we could have easily sat around the congenial table and chatted for hours, but at seven they had to open for regular patronage.  They finally shoved the last of us out of the room at about 6:40.  To a certain extent, hysteria was setting in.  We had a wedding in less that 24 hours.

Time for the Gifts

After lunch, Bill’s family went into a variety of directions.  Some back to hotels, others to Mirette’s apartment and Bill wanted to know what I wanted to do.  Well, my number one priority was still delivering gifts.  Good husband that he is, he got us back to the hotel, gave me enough time to get the gifts wrapped and then arranged for someone to come pick us up, all so I could get the gifts off my list.  Perfect.  The bonus was that he got to take a nap – albeit one where he had his head covered with a pillow, because I was rustling tissue paper and gift bags.

In good American time, Mirette came to the hotel to pick us up.  This is the point at which I get to tell you what a doll she is.  She adores her Uncle Bill and is so sweet to me that I could just eat her up.  This girl has a heart as big as they come and it is open to everyone.  Love her!!

My beautiful nieces. Maggie on the left and Mirette on the right.

Sister Mona’s Old Apartment

Mirette’s apartment is in Heliopolis, not far from the Fairmont.  It’s in the same neighborhood her mom used to live in.  Bill was interested in driving around and seeing how things looked, because this is where Mona lived since the time he was a boy.  He has fond memories of daily trips to the area for Mona to tutor him.  Believe me, he was a lot more interested in the daily trips than he was in the tutoring.

I’d stayed with Mona for a day or two on our last trip and been amazed by a few of the constant inconveniences of life in Egypt.  For one thing, they don’t have little things like building codes which demand that you must build a parking lot to accommodate the people living in a building.  Parking cars two and three deep around a building was the norm.  The density is hard to imagine.  One huge multi-story apartment building after another built chock-a-block.  You can literally reach across and steal your neighbor’s underwear hanging on the patio of an adjacent building.

You don’t need alarm clocks, because early morning prayers and the vegetable crier with the donkey cart will wake you up.  The dust is appalling.  You cannot keep a house clean.  The water may or may not work.  The same with electricity.  Life is chaos.  And this isn’t in the ghetto.  This is in one of the best residential areas in Cairo.  I found it mind-boggling.

Rent Control vs. Life Control

My liberal friends like to tout ideas like rent control.  Before you think rent control is a good idea, take a gander at Egypt.  It has rent control.  The place is built and you pay through the nose for the most basic of apartments.  The buyer is responsible for finishing out the apartment, so while you may have a very elegant tasteful finish, the guy on the next floor can negate it with his purple porch or maybe he’ll never finish it out, leaving a hole where there should be an apartment.  Maybe he’ll put up curtains or build something on his patio.  That’s tough, because once your in, you’re stuck.  While things may seem expensive in the beginning, hang around, you’ll have a bargain in a few dacades.

My sister-in-law now lives in the apartment she renovated that belonged to her parent’s.  The rent is equivalent to $10 a month.  She’s got an absentee landlord who allows one of the tenants to be his super and the perk is this agent is allowed to run all kinds of scams – overcharging for electricity, doing faulty repairs, whatever. But Mona’s got it good.  Her neighborhood is still one of the nicer ones available.

The worst part for Egypt is that Mona is the exception that proves the rule.  She could afford to do a renovation and she works hard to keep her apartment clean and attractive.  In most cases, by the time a family has lived a lifetime in an apartment, it desperately needs to be renovated, but there isn’t any money.  The owner of the building certainly isn’t going to renovate it, because the building no longer has any value to him.  He will continue to collect the minuscule rents until the last person there dies or maybe he won’t and if he doesn’t, maybe his super will take them for himself.  Many, many buildings are in horrid disrepair.  Perhaps there’s no one living there any longer and the owner has abandoned it.  Perhaps there’s still a family or two in the building, praying they can somehow continue to get water and electricity until they are dead.

You can spend the next day or two trouble-shooting this, but you have two possible ends – the current situation remains or the government gets involved.  We Americans assume that the government is just going to come in and fix everything, but what happens if the government we are depending on is broke.  Welcome to Egypt.  Let’s just hope it’s nothing like this ever happens to us, but just to be on the safe side, let’s not have rent control.

 

DESTINATIONS, International, Restaurants & Bars, Road Trips, TRAVEL

Baalbak Lebenese Restaurant in the Sonasta Hotel

Jane Sadek
Marvelous Maggie

TRAVEL THERE: EASTER LUNCH WITH FAMILY

In this particular blog, I’m going to rave about our niece Maggie, but please understand, there is no way we could have had such a great trip if not for all of our wonderful nieces and nephews.  I’ve already told you how glad we were to see Mirette and Ayman at the airport and how our trip was enhanced by Steven and his traveling companion.  The list goes on, but Maggie was my rock.  She guided me through the challenges of gift-buying and what to wear for the wedding and what to pack for everything else.  Her English is perfect, so she’s easy for me to chat with.  She’s also the one who pulled together a perfect Easter Lunch for all the families on the day before the wedding.  Kudos to this sweet, bright, beautiful lady!

Egyptian Customs

I’ll have a lot more to say about this when we actually get to the wedding, but they don’t do marriages exactly like we do.  Rehearsal dinners are not a thing there, for instance, but Maggie wanted an opportunity for all of the family to get together, so from her home in Michigan, she planned a delightful luncheon for the whole group, including a car to deliver us from the Fairmont to the Sonasta Hotel where the luncheon was.

Egyptians don’t do lunch like us either.  My lunch juices start flowing about noon, but Egyptians don’t start thinking about lunch until around 2 and a midnight dinner is nothing too far out of the ordinary, but it’s usually more like nine-ish.  Which brings me to my dining schedule while I was there.

As I’ve mentioned, we usually had a huge buffet for breakfast and according to what we were doing that day, it could be anywhere from very early to nearly 11 AM.  Whatever time breakfast happened, I needed to load up. If we had an early breakfast, chances are I wouldn’t see food again until late afternoon and that afternoon luncheon might or might not be the final meal of the day.

If we had a later breakfast, it really became brunch, and I’d try to avoid a mid-day meal and hold out until that late dinner.  From time to time that meant the application of a little chocolate to my thighs via my mouth, and I tried to keep that to a minimum, but I had plenty of chocolates, thanks to the Ghaly’s beautiful gift.

Most days I was able to keep my intake to two meals, but then something would happen and I found myself eating three feasts in one day, along with some snacks forced on me by an eager hostess.  That I only gained five pounds on this trip really was a miracle.

Lunch at Baalak

Baalak, is a lovely restaurant in the Sonesta Hotel featuring regional specialties – kofta, grilled veggies, stuffed grape leaves, eggplant casserole, macaroni in bechamel, rice, potatoes, grilled chicken – all the good stuff.  However, they only serve dinner.  As I have mentioned, Maggie planned this incredible feast long distance and it was a doozy.

When we arrived I gave the traditional two kiss greeting to everyone and while I wished I could have completed the gifting then and there, this event was to honor the bride and groom, so all I had was their gifts.  The balance of the afternoon was spend around the table enjoying one of the most congenial and delicious afternoons you can imagine.

We are an international family.  We’re spread out throughout Canada, the US and Egypt, but I’ve heard of relatives in Paris and as far away as Australia.  The careers represented range from medical doctor, to teacher, to investor, to stay-at-home-mom, to laundromat entrepreneur, to financier and the list goes on.  The children are beautiful, precocious and indulged.  We are very interesting to ourselves, but probably not to you.

The next day was the wedding, but we’re not there yet! Come back next week for more family fun.

 

DESTINATIONS, International, TRAVEL

Living on Plan B

Jane Sadek
Transporting the Wedding Dress

TRAVEL THERE: GOING WITH THE FLOW IS JUST PART OF THE JOURNEY

Last week I admitted how much I loved the neat little packages called hours, because they keep my days in order.  I’m also fairly fond of making a plan and then executing it.  As you’ll see as we travel along, I had a plan for Egypt and much of it came to fruition, but having the ability to just go along with whatever happens is really a skill you need to develop, if you want to truly enjoy Egypt.  Being married to Bill has given me a head start on this ability and I’m glad I had it to pull out of my kit.

Plan B
So, Plan A had gone awry and we had a choice. Welcome to Egypt!

Bassem could drop us off at Mona’s (Bill’s sister/Bassem’s Mom) or we could go with him to Mariam’s (his fiancee). This caused a slight frisson for me. All that hurried gift fritzing was immediately rendered useless.  The five gift bags settled around my feet in the car would do me no good.  To boot, I’d have to continue carrying them around until I could deliver them to the appropriate recipients.

I also had another dilemma. Egyptian protocol suggests the appropriate moment for gift-giving is the first time you see the donee. You get a pass at the airport with those who pick you up, but after that you should greet people with their gift the first time you see them.  I desperately wanted to run back into the hotel and trade my Mirette family gifts for whichever would be right for wherever we ended up going.  That wasn’t possible, because we were already out on the street and even by the measure of Egyptian time, we needed to hustle.

The time crunch was creeping up on us, because the Easter Luncheon was scheduled before too long.  So it was decided we’d go to Mariam’s and save Bassem from having to stop by his parent’s house to drop us off and then pick us back up.
So, off we went!

I wasn’t too worried about the gifting thing. I would have preferred to show up with something, but we’d hosted the Ghaly’s at Christmas and exchanged wonderful gifts. I sort of had a deposit of goodwill in the Egyptian gifting bank with them. I want you to know they are delightfully gracious people who would not have cared whether we ever gave them a gift at all, but I was trying my best not to drop any Egyptian balls.

The Excitement Builds

Going to Egypt under any circumstances is a pretty exciting adventure, but going for a wedding explodes the thrill factor. Seeing Bassem having his mani/pedi got the wedding juices flowing, but arriving at the bride’s family’s apartment turned that flow into a gushing fountain.

The bride’s parents were thrilled to see us and in true Egyptian fashion starting bringing out food. Homemade cheesecake, cookies from a wedding shower, various pastries, cupcakes, you name it – even though we were saying, “No thank you. We had a late breakfast. No thank you. We’re only here for a minute. No thank you. We don’t want you to go to any trouble,” the whole time.

Also appearing in the Ghaly living room was the bride, a huge pink bag full of wedding dress and luggage for the honeymoon. As I feared, we were presented with a beautiful gift, a spray of decorated chocolates adorned with Easter decorations. Her parents insisted that they were treating us to a dinner boat cruise later in the trip and as we headed out the door, we were forced to take the decorated wedding cookies from the shower. I love Egyptians!

Look guys! Sat 7!

One side note. The TV was on in the apartment, not that anyone was paying it any attention.  Since I volunteer with Global Heart Ministries and they create Christian programming for satellite broadcast in Central Asia and the Middle East, I couldn’t help peeking to see what they were watching.  Sure enough, the tv was tuned to one of the channels which airs our programs. We are not broadcast in Egypt, because our shows aren’t produced in Arabic (yet), but I was thrilled to see the Ghaly’s were watching our channel.

We loaded up and headed to the hotel.  That time in the car with the wedding dress in my lap, the undelivered gifts around my feet and my armload of chocolates from the Ghaly’s is one favorite memories of the trip.  It perfectly captured my time in Egypt – running late on Egyptian time and executing Plan B, but loving every minute of it.

Back at the hotel I had to hustle.  I had all of about half an hour to fluff myself up and get ready for the next event.  That meant shuffling more gifts.  Since the party was honoring the bride and groom, I couldn’t deliver any of the other presents, but I did need to get the wedding gift ready.  A driver was scheduled to pick us up and while the rest of the country might be on Egyptian time, the drivers were prompt.

I’ve rambled on for long enough now. Come back next week for the Bridal Luncheon.

Accommodations, Attractions, DESTINATIONS, International, Road Trips, TRAVEL, Travel Planning

A Word About Planning

Jane Sadek
The whole gang, bride and groom front and center

TRAVEL THERE: IT’S TOUGH TO PLAN FOR EGYPT ON YOUR OWN

The big wedding day we’d come to Egypt for had arrived, but I had no role in it until about four Egyptian time, which turned into more like 5:30 real time.  It’s taken me a while, but I am finally learning to pause when I travel.  Cruises force you to do that and I have noticed that I enjoy them immensely.  I had resisted Bill’s suggestion that we go on a tour on the day of the wedding, for which both of us ended up being very grateful.  While Bill and I slept late on the wedding day, let me tell you a little bit about the planning for this trip.

A Different Travel Planner

This trip was very different than most of our travels, because I didn’t plan it.  At first, I assumed planning would fall in my jurisdiction, but since I wanted to rely on a travel agent for a trip of this magnitude and my travel agent wanted to rely on third party packages, Bill ended up working it out himself.  He looked to me to assist by researching attractions, landmarks and museums I wanted to see, but he took over the rest.  In part, that’s because he wanted to be sure we got the Egyptian rate.

Egyptians don’t pay the same amount as tourists in Egypt for most things.  While Americans will be glad to know most Egyptian hotels are bargains compared to the same quality hotel elsewhere, Egyptians pay even less.  This is not true at the Fairmont, however.  Rates in Dallas are pretty much the same as in Cairo and while other hotels gladly gave Bill the Egyptian rate when he showed them his old Egyptian passport, the Fairmont was a little more persnickety, demanding he have a current passport and proof of residency.

While I’m talking about planning, let me say this.  Trying to use the internet to research travel in Egypt is an exercise in frustration.  Since this was my second trip to Egypt, I’d already seen the obvious, well-known attractions which have an inkling of how to communicate with potential visitors.  I had a vague idea of the other things I wanted to see, but with the exception of a few reviews on Trip Advisor, I was pretty much on my own.  Please ignore most of the Trip Advisor reviews on Egypt.  I’m not sure what these folks were expecting in Egypt, but it sounds as if they thought they were going to Disney, “Nothing here except some ruins.”  OH PLEASE!

 

Heres your best bet for travel in Egypt

The Family Travel Agent

Bill’s niece, Mirette, is married to Ayman, which sort of makes him my nephew, but it’s by marriage on both sides and I have a hard time figuring all that out.  Paternal this, twice removed that and great or grand?  These things always confuse me!

Way back when Mirette married Ayman, I was told he was the manager of the Thomas Cook offices in Sharm El Shiek, but that didn’t register with me as “travel agent”.   To me that sounded like a financial position, because all I knew about Thomas Cook was that they had traveler’s checks.  (Remember Traveler’s Checks?)  Well, duh!

This trip was so easy for Bill.  I did the research and Ayman did the booking.  I think Bill wanted to show off his expertise and plan even more – hence my need to say no and no and no and no.  I found out we just might be kin to the very best agent in Egypt.  If Sharm El Shiek is on you list – then fuggetaboutit!  Just call Ayman.  He’s the unofficial mayor of Sharm El Shiek and he knows everybody in town, but he can book anything in Egypt.

Seriously, if you’re going to Egypt, call Ayman.  He manages the Sharm El Sheik branch of Travel Choice (a Thomas Cook company).  His email is tcsharm@travelchoiceeg.com and his telephone number is +2(069)3601-808-9.  His English is impeccable.  He’s a nice guy and he has years of experience.  Tell him Bill and Jane Sadek sent you and you’ll be treated royally!  BTW, the website is www.travelchoiceegypt.com.

As incredible as his work for us was in Sharm, he’s also good outside of Sharm.  He knows all of Egypt very well.  He’s the one who hired our driver and guide for Cairo and Alexandria.  Both were perfect – competent, courteous and conscientious.  The driver especially.  On the way to Alexandria, there was a horrid traffic jam.  He took the next exit and drove around like a chase scene from The French Connection.  At first it looked as if he’d made one of those turns you never come home from, but before I even had time to worry, he squirmed through several tights situations and had us on the Corniche.

Bill’s family is Christian and while I am no Islamophobe, it was also nice to know I was being escorted around Egypt by people Christians trust.  Our driver was a Christian who had a cross hanging from his rear-view mirror and informative stories about Believers throughout the Middle East who visited Egypt.  Our guide was a Muslim with whom we enjoyed several intelligent conversations about the effects of religion on Egypt over the centuries.  Riding through backstreets of Alexandria in a cab, which had a radio spouting religious antipathy and a driver whose grimace suggested he was resentful our our presence, made me appreciate Ehab and Zahran even more.  (BTW, it wasn’t Ayman’s fault I was in that cab, Bill decided we’d do Alex on our own.  More to come!)

Next week I’ll tell you about the ways I enjoyed my quiet morning at the Fairmont, but I had to give a shout out to Ayman.  It’s not just family loyalty that caused me to recommend him.  If he hadn’t done a bang-up job for us, I might have just allowed you to think I’d done my own bookings, but because I care about you getting the best when you travel, I’m urging you to call Ayman.