The trip to Minya

Come gather ‘round children I’ll tell you a tale, of my crazy journey to Minya. Actually, it all started with me trying to call a bluff. Anyone familiar with Seinfeld will recall the episode where George tells Susan’s parents that he has a house in the Hamptons. So, in similar fashion, I was willing to go to great lengths to expose what I considered to be a lie. My friend Wageh invited me to his parent house like three months ago when we first met. I accepted the invitation for two reasons, first because I didn’t want to offend him, and second because I have always wanted to spend some time in southern Egypt, not just to see the cows and water buffalo, but to actually spend time in the homes of those that live there and this was a golden opportunity.

However, as the date for our departure drew near, I began to have doubts about the legitimacy of this invitation, mainly because Wageh has been maxing fact with fiction so much so that it seems that whenever he opens his mouth it is three parts fantasy to one part reality. This is most apparent in his insistence that he works as a member of an elite force of Christian operatives appointed to protect the churches of Egypt from the evil Muslims who seek to kidnap Christian women and kill Christian men (although the conspiracy of kidnapping Christian girls here in order to convert them to Islam is actually quite widespread). He also kills somebody every day, and as proof he often displays some sort of bounty which he looted from the lifeless corps which messed with the wrong guy. He also works for the CIA, has American citizenship, and has lived in the United States—he lived in L.A. for a period of time, but not the L.A. you are thinking of, according to him the L.A. he lived in is located on the East coast near New Jersey.

I do not mention his fantastic stories in order to mock him, but to show why I really didn’t believe him when he told me that we were going to visit his parents who he had not talked to in at least three years as result of an estrangement caused by Wageh’s unwillingness to marry a certain girl in the neighborhood that his father wanted him to marry. He told me that for my sake, he mended his relationship and that we could go down there. This estrangement is key to the story of Wageh’s life since it is what caused him to come to Cairo, where he had no family and no money. He was eating out of trash cans and barely hanging on until one day he found a “large” sum of money in the dirt which has allowed him to buy two apartments and a car.

Anyway, so after three years of not talking to his parents, he calls them up out of the blue and all is well and we can visit them in Minya. To me one of two things is possible; either he was really not estranged from his parents or we are not going to Minya. The week before we were to depart, he claimed to have purchased the tickets for the train, but when I asked for him to show me, he said that he left them with a friend and was going to pick them up the night before we were going to leave. This added to my suspicion that we were in fact not going to go, but I figured that I would just play along to see what would happen.

We met at the train station Monday morning at 9:30. I packed only garments and socks since I figured that I would be returning to my apartment shortly anyway. While we were waiting on the platform, I asked him to check to make sure that he had the tickets, to which he replied that they fell out of his pocket, but that is okay since nowadays in Egypt, one can just buy a ticket on the train, there is no need to reserve a seat beforehand. I had my doubts, but it turned out to be the case. I was foolish in thinking that a ticket meant that you had a seat on the five hour train ride from Cairo to Minya—it doesn’t. We boarded the train coming from Alexandria to find that there was standing room only. Just imagine the trains that you see in the movies about India or Thailand except without the people on top. There was at least one man sleeping on the luggage rack above the seats. A select few of us were able to carve out enough room to sit down next to one of the wide open doors of the train. Basically, it was ladies, old men, and the foreigner who were given the privilege of sitting.

Most of the Egyptian around us were shocked that Wageh would bring a foreigner on the normal car and not on the air conditioned cars that are common in all Western countries. Everyone around me was so concerned about my state of mind as if I had never ridden the truly packed trains of Japan while carrying a bicycle. The best part about the train was that every five minutes somebody would walk through the car selling anything from perfume, to sandwiches, to tea; however, there was really no aisle to walk in, so they sellers had to walk over the crush of humanity, needless to say there were a lot of feet stepped on and unsavory body parts pressed against unsuspecting faces. It was all laughs at first, but then about three hours into the trip, patience of all began to wear thin. A shouting match erupted about who knows what and people were being publicly ridiculed.

I realized in this train ride that Egyptian young men well into their twenties act like a bunch of high school students when they get in a big group. And as a foreigner, one is defenseless to their onslaught of teenage like banter. At first, I admired the fact that Egyptians interacted with other Egyptians that they had never previously met on busses, trains, or out on the streets and could just joke with strangers as if they knew them. This is something relatively non-existent in American society. But after this train ride, I realized that sometimes it is best when people just mind their own business and keep their comments to themselves. The openness of the Egyptian society has led to a culture of the acceptance of public ridicule of the actions or dress of a complete stranger.

After five hours we arrived at Mallawi, which is the station close to the small village of Wageh’s childhood. The taxis of Mallawi are old Toyota pickup trucks that are often used by guerilla fighters in Africa and Afghanistan. When I arrived I took a shower, which felt really nice and then we ate kufta sandwiches. (Kufta is like American sausage links but they are really oily and come from who knows what animal. I always make sure to pray before eating this particular Egyptian dish.) Following dinner, I took a two hour nap and then the fun began.

I must first explain something about the post-revolution Egypt. A lot of Egyptians, especially the uneducated ones which regrettably makes up the vast majority of Egyptians, are afraid of foreign interference with the revolution. This was made clear when a foreigner was arrested and accused of being an Israeli spy. The other day, some other man told my about how during the revolution they comprehended two Israeli spies. According to this man’s account two foreigners were taking pictures and when the local neighborhood watch came to take their camera away, they fled in a vehicle trying to escape. Eventually the Zionist intruders were apprehended but not before they shot some man who tried to get in their way. Also, last week a lady in the ward was surrounded by an angry mob of Egyptians after she stopped her car to take a picture of some interesting graffiti on the wall. Her car was blocked in by the car of another citizen and soon a crowd gathered demanding the camera and accusing her of being a spy. Luckily, her husband works for the gov’t, so the roving security detail rushed to her assistance and helped disperse the crowd; however, even after the arrival of help, it still took a lot of convincing for the crowd to leave. Last year, I hardly heard the word spy, this year it is on the lips of nearly every Egyptians. Since I have to enter Tahrir square in order to get to school every day, I have to show some form of identification to the citizen guards of the square. I only show my student I.D. card which they often initially reject since it does not reveal my nationality.

So Wageh’s cousin Basim, who lives next door, requested that I show him my passport. This is something that I did not want to do because 1) I told Wageh that I was from Estonia and 2) his cousin had no business looking at my passport. However, he was very insistent. I tried to help him understand the ridiculous nature of this question since, if I was a spy, my papers would all be in order. This did not dissuade him from his request, so I gave in and showed him my passport. Of course, the first page that he randomly opens up to is the page with my Israeli stamps. He looked at it a few moments in silence staring at the stamps which contain Hebrew and then gave it back to me. He did not even look at the front cover or the front page. A few minutes later Wageh and I were informed that I would have to go to the police station in order to register with the local precinct, so that they could confirm my true identity and so that none of the neighbors could claim that I was somebody that I was not. With the approval from the police, the people of this small Egyptian village would accept me and no longer fear me. Supposedly I was the first foreigner to visit this village ever. Somehow I doubt that, but maybe it had been a while. However, I did not want to go to the police station and have to explain to some policeman from some tiny Egyptian village why an Israeli stamp in my passport did not mean that I was a spy. I thought for sure that I would spend the night in jail until they could get a hold of the proper authorities at the University and at the Interior ministry. However, the brother of the police chief came over and talked with me and suspected my passport and informed me that his brother would come to the house to interview me. However, his brother was busy with something, so instead of me having to see the police it was decided that I would be confined to the home of Wageh. So in fact I would be in jail, but at least it was a little cozier then most jails. They tried to explain that this was all for my safety since the number of police officers is not what it used to be and people are being kidnapped and they would hate to have anything happen to me. However, the real reason, as Wageh explained to me and as I realized through my conversations with them over the next day, was that they did not want to neighbors talking about them. Also, it was clear that Wageh and his parents did not get along at all. There was absolutely no love in that home and Wageh had to pay is parents to feed us. It was the weirdest thing. All I could think about was the difference between this visit and my visit to Ben Denos’ house in California last December. It was extremely awkward and I immediately regretted coming. I could just tell that there was tension in the home and animosity toward Wageh and me.

After all of that happened, we were both annoyed by the situation so we just went to bed even though it was only like 11:00. The room that we slept in had two really thin beds, which were about as wide as my shoulders, at two opposite sides of the room. Well, Wageh, in classic Egyptian/Arab lack of understanding about personal space and the appropriate level of physical contact between two grown males, decided to push the beds together. I tried to convince him otherwise, but he began to get very offended, so I dropped the matter. Regrettably, Wageh is not a stay in one place sleeper, and I found myself walking up several times during the night either to move closer to the wall I was already smashed against or to remove his leg or arm from my body.

The next day, Tuesday, we just lounged about the house moving from room to room. It is a very Egyptian thing to spend vacations in front of the TV or a computer watching movies or just listening to music. So that is what we did. Luckily, I brought a book with me, so I got some good reading in. In between watching movies I had never heard of and playing cards—which was enjoyable—Wageh was trying to get a hold of a friend who he thought that we could stay with instead of his parents. Then we could have the freedom to do whatever we wanted and stay in an environment that was not so hostile. I was secretly hoping that his friend would reject his plea since, I didn’t want to upset his family by going behind their backs and I just didn’t feel comfortable there.

So, that night at about 2:00, I am awoken by Wageh’s brother telling Wageh to get up because his dad wants to talk with him. Something inside of me told me that this was not good. He left for a few minutes and as he was returning, I heard him and someone else talking just outside the door and I kept hearing the words 5:00. So when he returned, I asked him what was up and he said that his friend had come by and left a note with Wageh’s dad that said that we could stay at his house but would need to meet him at 5:00 in the morning because Wageh’s friend was traveling that day. I said whatever and grabbed my cell phone to change the alarm time, but no sooner was Wageh summoned again. This time there was a lot more shouting coming from wherever Wageh went. He returned to inform me that apparently his friend had got into some altercation with his dad and now his parents were really upset. I heard that they wanted us to leave the house right this instant and that they were calling someone who had a car to take us to the train station. Wageh tried to plead for us to stay at least until the morning, but he lost. So we got dressed, I ate some weird tapioca type pudding and his mom gave use two pieces of bread and some chicken in a plastic bag. As soon as the car got there we were expected to run out to it, but Wageh had yet to eat breakfast because he was busy packing all of the clothes that he had brought to be washed (I guess more than just American college students bring their laundry home with them). So he was trying to eat this pudding while his family was yelling at him to leave and the car outside was honking, so in frustration he threw the pudding down and marched out the door. At the end of the alley, there was a Toyota pickup truck waiting for us, which had some women inside the cabin and two men probably in their twenties just chilling in the back with a wooden bird cage. We climbed in the back and were off. The owner of the truck had put two thin wooden planks on the side of the truck bed as benches and had covered the back with a canopy, so one could not stand up in the back of the truck. About five minutes down the road we picked up some other passengers: an old man and a small child. The back of the truck became really crowded, but eventually, we reached the train station and alighted. At the station, we first sat on different stone benches in order to lie down and sleep, but I think that I wanted an explanation about what happened so I went over to talk to Wageh. We sat and talked, ate our chicken and bread, since both of us were hungry due to the fact that dinner the night before was Twinkies and a few chips. (Just as a side note: it was weird because Wageh wanted me to go into the room that his father was watching the news and offer him so Twinkies. So I did reluctantly since his father had a constant scowl on his face and I knew that he was not happy to see me in his home. We exchanged pleasantries and I present him with the Twinkies, to which he replies that he cannot eat them because he has diabetes. I cannot believe that Wageh would have me offer Twinkies to his diabetic father while he just waited outside. I tried to stir up some small talk but after like two minutes, the dad just got up and left saying something about having to take his medication.) The train station was surrounded by an iron fence and just on the other side was a coffee shop. Wageh was able to get the shop owners attention and ordered two glasses of Helba, which is an herbal tea. Of course, Wageh didn’t drink his glass since he really does not like Helba, so it was upon me to drink both glasses which outwardly I displayed anger, but was internally grateful. Eventually the train came at like 5:50 to take us to Minya were supposedly his friend had an apartment that we could stay in. The train ride there was really beautiful since the sun was just rising over the lush green fields of the south, with minarets and palm trees rising up here and there. We reached Minya at about 7:00 and began to simply wander around the town to kill time; since, Wageh told me that the train to his friend’s house would not arrive until nine o’clock and I really didn’t feel like sitting in another train station for a long period of time. We first found a little kiosk outside the train station and sat down to drink some Coca-Cola. We just walked down a street that ran parallel with the train tracks, Wageh asking me questions about Israel and why Muslims hate America and the West. I think that he was undergoing shock about what had just happened. He later told me that he had no idea that people would treat me like that because I was a foreigner. After sitting down in front of some shop and talking until like 9:00, we set out once again to find something to eat. Wageh refused to eat at this restaurant and was insistent that we go and find some bread because it would be cheaper if we bought our own bread then bought the bread at the restaurant. And when I say restaurant, I mean a place that sells beans and falafel. His request was initially, reasonable since there was a bakery across the road; however, in Egypt they have bakeries that are owned by the neighborhood and only those who pay in each month can take the bread. So, we began to wander again looking for another bakery, but this only after Wageh tried to beg the bakery owners to let us have a few pieces of bread. We found another bakery down the road, but it was the same type of bakery. Eventually, we found some kid on the road selling bread and bought a couple bags from him, each bag containing four or five pieces of bread. I guess I better clarify here that when I say piece of bread, I mean one pita. Then Wageh went and bought some potato chips so that we could have something to put in the bread. Actually, this is not a crazy Wageh thing, almost every shop that sells bean and falafel sandwiches also sells potato chip sandwiches, which are simply just bread and potato chips. After breakfast, more lies were said about his friend who lives has a third apartment in Minya or who works here. His words were never clear, revealing that fact that he had no idea what we were doing here. He was hoping to meet with another cousin of his to go and visit the cousin’s fiancée. Eventually we found ourselves at some random Christian church. We waited outside the gate while one of the employees went inside to see if we could wait inside the church until his cousin or friend came. Well, the employee took forever, and now that the sun was up, it began to be extremely hot. So, I being tired and hot just sat on the ground and leaned against the outer wall of the church. I police man saw us and was appalled that a foreigner was sitting on the ground, since this was no way to treat a guest. The police man led us into the church compound to an inner door. We rang the bell a few times until finally the employee who said that he was going to inquire about a place to sit answered the door. Wageh chastised him for his tardy response and entered the building. Just then, the head of operations entered the room and Wageh approached him as if they were long time friends who had not seen each other in some time. He went up and hugged him and kissed him on each cheek. I could see the confusion on the man’s face: it was obvious that he had no idea who was hugging him. Whether he really knew the man or not, did not concern me at the moment since I had needed to use the restroom for some time and there was a glorious bathroom right in front of me complete with a toilet seat and toilet paper. Most bathrooms in lower income homes are less than appealing and usually consist of a hole in the ground and a bucket of water. As soon as I sat on the toilet, I was grateful for Wageh’s insistence that we come to this place, no matter how much it burdened those who worked therein. Apparently Wageh did know the man, but not as well as his actions might lead an observer to believe. The three of us had a short awkward little conversation about the trials that Christians face here in Minya. It was informative at least to hear about how many taxi drivers will not stop for Christian women. After about ten minutes of conversation and some more herbal tea Wageh did what he does always—take the person that we are talking to from me in order to exchange a few words in private. I hate this thing more than anything else that Wageh does because I have no idea what he is telling them about me or him.

While he was away, two other people around my age started talking to me. One, I am pretty sure had a mental defect, but the other was quite nice and began to ask me where I was from. I told him Utah, and he said that he knew someone from Egypt that was living around there. His next statement was said with some hesitation, “there are a lot of Mormons in Utah.” To which I replied yes there are and I am one of them. We then engaged in a conversation about whether Mormons are Christians or not. Basically we were discussing why God and Jesus have to be the same person. I would have never imagined that I would get in a bible bashing match in the middle of Minya. About half way through, I got sick of trying to convince him and just bore simply testimony of the prophet Joseph Smith who saw two distinct beings so really whatever is written in the bible is irrelevant. Then of course I shocked him by reminding him that the Bible is unclear and could mean a million different things. I have recently realized that other Christians do not appreciate this accusation. We then left the unity of god question and entered into the importance of baptism. But, he was busy so he had to go, but I did get a free Arabic Bible out of the whole thing so that was fun.

After our time at the church we headed down to the Nile to see the view, but not before stopping at a few mobile shops so that Wageh could find a new cover for his cell phone and a juice stand for a drink. The Minya is great because things cost about the same here as they do in Cairo, but the portions are so much bigger. When we reached the Kornish or banks of the Nile we sat under a tree and took a nap. Before, we slept Wageh had called another acquaintance who lived in the city to come and meet him. I knew that this was because he was going to try and get him to find us a place to sleep, but Wageh claimed that it was simply to ask him where the nearest bathroom was. Wageh said that he was too ashamed to ask over the phone and was too embarrassed to ask one of the hundred other Egyptians around us. So during the hour that we waited for his friend, I slept a little and then read some. His friend came, and was shocked that Wageh would call him to come and meet him just to show him where the nearest bathroom was. But we sat together for some time and talked. We went out for Koshery (noodles, rice, lentils, onions, and tomato sauce) and ate it next to the Nile. Then for the next hour or two, the poor man was tasked to try and find us a place to sleep. I just sat and read because I was annoyed by the whole situation. Eventually, after coming up empty the man offered to put us up for the night. The only problem was that he was afraid of what his neighbors would say if they saw a foreigner at his house. He was mostly concerned about his apparently very Islamic doorman. So not wanting to add any strain on this poor kind man said that I would pay for Wageh and me to sleep in a hotel. But Wageh was against that idea since it would require him to fill out his personal information. After much arguing we determined that I would sleep in some boat hotel and Wageh would sleep in the park next to the Nile. We made our way to the boat hotel, and along the way, Wageh saw a hose watering the grass. He picked it up and started drinking out of it. Less than a minute after drinking from the hose, he was running to the side of the walkway where he threw up like four times.

The boat hotel was pretty expensive and Wageh now feeling sick was finally ready to throw in the towel. I treated the three of us to some fresh Mango juice especially to thank the man for all of his help. Wageh then went to a pharmacy to buy some medicine because he threw up. When the pharmacists learned that Wageh and I had eaten exactly the same things and that I had not gotten sick they began to mock Wageh for having a weaker stomach than a foreigner. Then when they learned that he drank out of some random water hose, they began to mock him further. The kind man named Email (supposedly it is a French name) finally parted paths with us taking Wageh’s two bags from him because Wageh was going to be returning in the next few days since his father had apparently slipped into a diabetic coma from the trauma of my visit. So at about 5:00 in the afternoon we got in a cab and drove to the other side of the Nile to what I believed was a zoo. Instead it was this rundown park that must have been beautiful in its heyday but had since fallen in disrepair. There was a group of people there, mostly children with a few young adults watching over them. Of course, Wageh, being the Egyptian that he is wanted to sit close to this wild herd of children in order to look at the women in the group. After a few minutes of sitting, a couple guys came up to us and started inquiring as to what I was. See, not a lot of foreigners visit Minya these days, and many people were confused as to my true identity. As I walked next to the Nile, or in the streets, I could hear people whispering, “That man looks like a foreigner.” Nearly everybody stared at me down there since, my features are obviously not Egyptian in the slightest, yet I was in Minya and there are no foreigners in Minya. I now know what it is like to be a woman in Cairo and to have everybody stare at you. While we were eating Koshery on the banks of the Nile, some girls came up to us and awkwardly tried to ask Wageh and Email what I was. Now at this park, these two young men began to have a conversation with me which eventually drew the attention of the hoards of children. Both talked to me in English and I responded in Arabic. One wants to be a tour guide, so he wanted to practice his English. Eventually, the two young men abandoned me to the hoard of children which quickly closed in. I found myself alone with all these kids shouting questions in English and Arabic. It was actually quite fun but was glad when they were dragged away.

Wageh and I then walked all the way back to the train station which took like an hour. When we tried to enter the station we were stopped by the police and asked to give up our passports/identity cards. Wageh foolishly opened his mouth causing suspicion to arise. Wageh wanted to know why they needed his information. I guess he never realized the importance of foreigners to the Egyptian economy and that if anything were to happen to me there could be major consequences. Eventually, we found ourselves in a police office were the officer made a phone call and then we were cleared to proceed onto Cairo.

Luckily this time the train was not very crowded and we were able to find a seat. Wageh slept the whole way there and I was in and out of sleep. We reached Cairo at 2:30 in the morning. Since there was no longer any metro service this late we determined to wait in the train station until 5:30 when the metro would open. I have been asked why I didn’t just take a taxi or Micro bus back to my house. I stayed at the station because I do not want Wageh to know where I live. I just do not want him showing up in the future looking for a place to sleep or for me to wash his clothes. So for the next three hours I sat on a stone bench, clutching my bag while Wageh put his head in my lap and slept. I slept a little and read a little and was happy to see five thirty come.