Memories of Cairo - 2
Me: Here’s the piece that needs framing.
GG: (a foreigner of hard-to-ascertain-nationality) Ah! (caressing the piece) This is from Egypt?
Me: Yes.
GG: Which frame do you want?
Me: Which frame do you suggest?
GG: Oh! Anything that you’d be happy with.
Me: Hmmm… ok… perhaps that frame there with the pink and purple filler? You think that’s ok?
GG: This one?
Me: Yes – you see, I have another piece that’s got an antique frame which has pinkish flowers – I was thinking perhaps this would match that….
*********
The first few days I have all to myself. The hotel is a sprawling building, with countless rooms, conference rooms, ballrooms, restaurants, and lounges. The best part is the lush, six-acre garden, with the trees shaped in a peculiar russian-hat-like topiary.
The weather is balmy. I sit in the Garden Promenade café, and it’s easy to slip into a world of make-believe, pretending I’m an English memsaab in a novel, in my pretty flowery dress, sipping coffee and reading a book, while soaking in the surprisingly mild morning sunshine.
I wander into the casino at an unearthly mid-morning hour, and disturb a serious card-game in progress. The players watch me warily, which makes me overwhelmingly conscious of my intrusion. I bravely march in and play a game of slots, wishing desperately for the bustling anonymity of Las Vegas, before I quietly slink out.
We try out the Ristorante Tuscany and tuck in a hearty and delicious Italian dinner, the accompanying wine lulling us into a pleasant state of drowsiness. We try the Egyptian Nights, which is housed under a huge tent-like structure, with the waiters all dressed in traditional flowing robes, replete with tasseled cap. Our waiter is courteous and mildly interested in the fact that we are from India, and helps us choose vegetarian dishes. The bread is deliciously crisp with a saltish tang. The fava beans look like rajma, and we hungrily scoop it up, only to spit it out in disgust a moment later – they are as bitter as bitter can be! The sickeningly sweet aroma of the flavoured tobacco bubbling thru the ubiquitous shishas or hookahs fill the air – it gives me a mild headache, and I actually begin to long for the familiar cigarette tobacco variety!
And for the first time, I experience the overwhelming power of physical beauty. I am actually stunned by a tall, dusky, statesque brunette in a red gown, who passes us, a strong intoxicating perfume wafting behind her! DH rues his decision on the seating arrangement, and I enjoy adding to his regret by describing her eloquently! I find it incredible that there are so many beautiful women, with plunging necklines and slit skirts, but with head and arms completely covered.
Then, there’s the romantic cruise down the river Nile. We watch a belly-dancer, fascinated by the control she has on her body, whilst excited men whoop, and tourists click away. I get an opportunity to see her close, just before she takes to the floor, and I see she is more graceful than shapely.
One morning, I decide to hire a guide and go down to the Egyptian Museum of Antiquities. My guide is a young chap, earnest and serious about his job. He starts his spiel even before we enter, telling me about the history of Egypt, the upper and lower Egypt, the Old, Middle, and New Kingdoms, the lotus and the papyrus. He pauses every now and then to quiz me, and I answer dutifully. He is pleased with my answers, and I am a trifle amused. We pass through several exhibits, and by now, my head is reeling with Rameses and Khufu, Amenemhat and Hapteshut. The figurines are exquisite, and include several objects made of wood and covered with thin gold plating. The guide points out to me a statuette’s open-toed sandals, and I marvel at how modern it looks. 3000 years don’t seem so far away in the past after all. The mummies are morbidly fascinating – even pets have been mummified, and I hastily look away from an mummified cat which stares eerily ahead.
The artifacts of Tutankhamon are probably the last stop for today. It is a secure room, with uniformed personnel posted outside. Inside, the solid gold mask, gold coffin, and several other accessories sit serenely. Every part of the discovery of his tomb has been documented photographically, and preserved. I am too exhausted to marvel yet again. You need to be here for at least a few months before you can absorb it all.
I leave the museum, successfully overwhelmed. Not only by the wondrous treasures, but the entire system of well-informed, almost scholarly guides, who are such repositories of information, and the well-honed tourism industry at work. I feel bad for the scores of archaelogical treasures and sites we have in India, housed in dilapidated conditions, with grubby guides scrounging off tourists.
*********
GG: Ok, we can go with this frame if you are ok?
Me: Sure, go ahead.
GG: I will give you a rough estimate – x1 for the frame, x2 for the board, x3 for the glass, x4 for the labour – total is ….X.
Me: (Gulp!) Just a second…D….wait (she is making a beeline for the MetLife Snoopy who has dropped by for a photo session)
Me: (On mobile) Guess what, it will cost us X – do you remember what the scroll cost us?
DH: Umm…not sure…
Me: I’m pretty sure the frame is working out to more than the scroll!!
DH: (Laughs) Let’s wrap it up though, otherwise, we will never get around to framing it!
Me: I know – it’s been more than two years now!!
Me: (to GG) OK, you can go ahead – we’ll take it!
GG: (a foreigner of hard-to-ascertain-nationality) Ah! (caressing the piece) This is from Egypt?
Me: Yes.
GG: Which frame do you want?
Me: Which frame do you suggest?
GG: Oh! Anything that you’d be happy with.
Me: Hmmm… ok… perhaps that frame there with the pink and purple filler? You think that’s ok?
GG: This one?
Me: Yes – you see, I have another piece that’s got an antique frame which has pinkish flowers – I was thinking perhaps this would match that….
*********
The first few days I have all to myself. The hotel is a sprawling building, with countless rooms, conference rooms, ballrooms, restaurants, and lounges. The best part is the lush, six-acre garden, with the trees shaped in a peculiar russian-hat-like topiary.
The weather is balmy. I sit in the Garden Promenade café, and it’s easy to slip into a world of make-believe, pretending I’m an English memsaab in a novel, in my pretty flowery dress, sipping coffee and reading a book, while soaking in the surprisingly mild morning sunshine.
I wander into the casino at an unearthly mid-morning hour, and disturb a serious card-game in progress. The players watch me warily, which makes me overwhelmingly conscious of my intrusion. I bravely march in and play a game of slots, wishing desperately for the bustling anonymity of Las Vegas, before I quietly slink out.
We try out the Ristorante Tuscany and tuck in a hearty and delicious Italian dinner, the accompanying wine lulling us into a pleasant state of drowsiness. We try the Egyptian Nights, which is housed under a huge tent-like structure, with the waiters all dressed in traditional flowing robes, replete with tasseled cap. Our waiter is courteous and mildly interested in the fact that we are from India, and helps us choose vegetarian dishes. The bread is deliciously crisp with a saltish tang. The fava beans look like rajma, and we hungrily scoop it up, only to spit it out in disgust a moment later – they are as bitter as bitter can be! The sickeningly sweet aroma of the flavoured tobacco bubbling thru the ubiquitous shishas or hookahs fill the air – it gives me a mild headache, and I actually begin to long for the familiar cigarette tobacco variety!
And for the first time, I experience the overwhelming power of physical beauty. I am actually stunned by a tall, dusky, statesque brunette in a red gown, who passes us, a strong intoxicating perfume wafting behind her! DH rues his decision on the seating arrangement, and I enjoy adding to his regret by describing her eloquently! I find it incredible that there are so many beautiful women, with plunging necklines and slit skirts, but with head and arms completely covered.
Then, there’s the romantic cruise down the river Nile. We watch a belly-dancer, fascinated by the control she has on her body, whilst excited men whoop, and tourists click away. I get an opportunity to see her close, just before she takes to the floor, and I see she is more graceful than shapely.
One morning, I decide to hire a guide and go down to the Egyptian Museum of Antiquities. My guide is a young chap, earnest and serious about his job. He starts his spiel even before we enter, telling me about the history of Egypt, the upper and lower Egypt, the Old, Middle, and New Kingdoms, the lotus and the papyrus. He pauses every now and then to quiz me, and I answer dutifully. He is pleased with my answers, and I am a trifle amused. We pass through several exhibits, and by now, my head is reeling with Rameses and Khufu, Amenemhat and Hapteshut. The figurines are exquisite, and include several objects made of wood and covered with thin gold plating. The guide points out to me a statuette’s open-toed sandals, and I marvel at how modern it looks. 3000 years don’t seem so far away in the past after all. The mummies are morbidly fascinating – even pets have been mummified, and I hastily look away from an mummified cat which stares eerily ahead.
The artifacts of Tutankhamon are probably the last stop for today. It is a secure room, with uniformed personnel posted outside. Inside, the solid gold mask, gold coffin, and several other accessories sit serenely. Every part of the discovery of his tomb has been documented photographically, and preserved. I am too exhausted to marvel yet again. You need to be here for at least a few months before you can absorb it all.
I leave the museum, successfully overwhelmed. Not only by the wondrous treasures, but the entire system of well-informed, almost scholarly guides, who are such repositories of information, and the well-honed tourism industry at work. I feel bad for the scores of archaelogical treasures and sites we have in India, housed in dilapidated conditions, with grubby guides scrounging off tourists.
*********
GG: Ok, we can go with this frame if you are ok?
Me: Sure, go ahead.
GG: I will give you a rough estimate – x1 for the frame, x2 for the board, x3 for the glass, x4 for the labour – total is ….X.
Me: (Gulp!) Just a second…D….wait (she is making a beeline for the MetLife Snoopy who has dropped by for a photo session)
Me: (On mobile) Guess what, it will cost us X – do you remember what the scroll cost us?
DH: Umm…not sure…
Me: I’m pretty sure the frame is working out to more than the scroll!!
DH: (Laughs) Let’s wrap it up though, otherwise, we will never get around to framing it!
Me: I know – it’s been more than two years now!!
Me: (to GG) OK, you can go ahead – we’ll take it!
posted by thoughtraker at 10:33 PM
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