Horse with no name....
The sight made me inhale sharply, causing the others to turn towards the sight that met my eyes. Soon, excited voices filled the air, "Look, the pyramids!", which were muffled only by the sounds of cameras being hastily withdrawn. It is my third night in Cairo, and the other students in the shuttle bus are, like me, going for a twilight horseback ride near the pyramids of Giza. The sun has set, yet the narrow streets are bumper to bumper, three lanes of traffic on a road built for two. A plethora of shops line the street, each one bearing the name of a famous Pharaoh or Goddess from ancient Egypt, names that people the world over will recognize. I am a combination of excited, filled with anticipation, and fearful, I cannot remember the last time I rode on any four legged animal.
We arrived at the meeting place, the scent of horses and camels filled the air. I am given a sturdy horse, whose name I am never told, and a 12 year old guide boy to help me and another person along. We started on our journey through a very poor street, run down homes next to the fence that surrounds the Giza Plateau. My guide, Omar, sits in the neck of the other person's horse, speaking very good English, and repeating, "I take care of you, you take care of me". Across the desert we rode, all the while I am convinced that I'm going to die. That horse, however, did not let me down. We made our way across the sand dunes, little light guiding our way, and the pyramids in the distance behind the fence. Omar, one of the oldest boy guides in the group, was making small talk with his passenger between yelling at another boy in Arabic and telling people to "Let's go!".
Our destination was a small shack on a hill over looking the pyramids, with a fire for light. The wind carried the sand softly, not enough to be inconvenient, but enough to be noticed. Blue, red, white, and yellow lights were shone on the pyramids, creating a beautiful effect. I attempted to get pictures, however my camera doesn't like to take clear pictures at night, causing them to be blurry. I had my picture taken with a horse (after which the man who took the picture asked if I wanted some horse hair, I declined), then I sat down and looked at the pyramids, while almost being peed on by a nearby horse. So many thoughts were in my head, and they all had a central theme. This is beautiful, I wish I could stay always. Except for the almost being peed on bit, that I can do without.
The ride back was faster, and for the first time I noticed the dead horses along the path. I counted 6, and when Omar was asked about them, he replied that they died in an accident today. Ana mish khawaga. I am no fool tourist. I can tell the difference between a recently dead horse, and one that has been laying in place so long, it's well on it's way to being petrified. I let it pass, and the rest of the journey was without incident until the end of the ride, when Omar wanted more money. Our group was told that everyone had been paid well beforehand, and not to tip. I explained this to Omar, and offered a little bit. He wanted Euros instead of Egyptian pounds, and refused what I offered as it was so little. I took it back, and he told an adult that I was too cheap. Again, this was paid for in advance, and we were told not to give any money. At all. I crumpled up a couple of Egyptian pounds, handed it to him, and walked away. Lesson learned, do not try to argue. Just walk away.
I left the pyramids, with plans to definitely return, and an experience that I doubt I will be able to recreate any time soon. Now I just need to find out where I can get horse riding lessons.
Another post about what I've been doing will be up shortly.
We arrived at the meeting place, the scent of horses and camels filled the air. I am given a sturdy horse, whose name I am never told, and a 12 year old guide boy to help me and another person along. We started on our journey through a very poor street, run down homes next to the fence that surrounds the Giza Plateau. My guide, Omar, sits in the neck of the other person's horse, speaking very good English, and repeating, "I take care of you, you take care of me". Across the desert we rode, all the while I am convinced that I'm going to die. That horse, however, did not let me down. We made our way across the sand dunes, little light guiding our way, and the pyramids in the distance behind the fence. Omar, one of the oldest boy guides in the group, was making small talk with his passenger between yelling at another boy in Arabic and telling people to "Let's go!".
Our destination was a small shack on a hill over looking the pyramids, with a fire for light. The wind carried the sand softly, not enough to be inconvenient, but enough to be noticed. Blue, red, white, and yellow lights were shone on the pyramids, creating a beautiful effect. I attempted to get pictures, however my camera doesn't like to take clear pictures at night, causing them to be blurry. I had my picture taken with a horse (after which the man who took the picture asked if I wanted some horse hair, I declined), then I sat down and looked at the pyramids, while almost being peed on by a nearby horse. So many thoughts were in my head, and they all had a central theme. This is beautiful, I wish I could stay always. Except for the almost being peed on bit, that I can do without.
The ride back was faster, and for the first time I noticed the dead horses along the path. I counted 6, and when Omar was asked about them, he replied that they died in an accident today. Ana mish khawaga. I am no fool tourist. I can tell the difference between a recently dead horse, and one that has been laying in place so long, it's well on it's way to being petrified. I let it pass, and the rest of the journey was without incident until the end of the ride, when Omar wanted more money. Our group was told that everyone had been paid well beforehand, and not to tip. I explained this to Omar, and offered a little bit. He wanted Euros instead of Egyptian pounds, and refused what I offered as it was so little. I took it back, and he told an adult that I was too cheap. Again, this was paid for in advance, and we were told not to give any money. At all. I crumpled up a couple of Egyptian pounds, handed it to him, and walked away. Lesson learned, do not try to argue. Just walk away.
I left the pyramids, with plans to definitely return, and an experience that I doubt I will be able to recreate any time soon. Now I just need to find out where I can get horse riding lessons.
Another post about what I've been doing will be up shortly.