Egypt: Black, White and Crystal Deserts2

As the men greeted each other it became clear that the women had very specific roles to play within the family structure. They stood rather subserviently in the background, scarves covering their heads, waiting for the signal from the patriarch that they may approach and greet their guests. It was a bit awkward for me to be treated more as a male than a female, and when the time was appropriate I joined the women in the kitchen and played with the children a bit. They saw me as quite the exotic foreigner, and inspected me curiously and carefully.

The women seemed much more at ease in their kitchen domain and indeed seemed quite concerned that the accommodations of their home might not please me. They had obviously just scrubbed the family bathroom with its squat toilet, and my socks got completely soaked from the water on the floor. They offered to take me to a neighbor's home with a more traditional toilet but I declined and gratefully accepted all that they offered me.

After an hour or so of visiting we were offered an abundant meal of chicken and vegetables. We sat on the floor at a low table in the living area that was obviously not set for the whole family. It was a bit disheartening to realize that the men and I were to eat separately from the women and children. I did not want to in any way appear ungrateful for our host's hospitality, so I enjoyed the well-prepared food as I profusely thanked the women who so dutifully served us. I certainly felt quite appreciative of the rights and privileges that I enjoy as a woman in my own culture. I had never been in a situation that forced me to scrutinize them quite so carefully before.

After our late afternoon meal we were introduced to a young man who was to accompany us on our journey. He and our Siwa guide were the only two male Egyptians that I met during our three weeks in Egypt who did not smoke. This we appreciated greatly, as we were to spend several days in close quarters with them. Our friend, unfortunately, always seemed to have a lit cigarette in his hand.

I no longer remember the name of our Siwa host and guide, nor that of his young assistant. They took extremely good care of us during our time in the deserts, though toward the end of the three days I began to have quite a bad case of nausea with diarrhea. Needless to say, this was quite the challenge when our only bathroom was the desert sand. The four guys had to be trusted to turn their heads.

After freshly cooked meals that often featured chicken cooked over a fire pit, our dishes and utensils were washed with simply a few rubs of napkin or toilet paper. It is no wonder that it eventually took its toll on my digestive tract. It was still quite special to have them take us to extraordinary locations and tend to our every need, even playing music for us on their traditional instruments. The only request that they were not able to fill was our desperate need for some form of heat throughout the two long, cold, desert nights.

The three men proudly escorted us outside to a heavily laden and fantastically decorated Land Cruiser, complete with tassels around the windshield. It was to be our sturdy desert transportation, as well as a windbreak for our desert camps. I was never quite sure if the outlandish and whimsical decorations were for the benefit of the owner or the occasional tourist that he so expertly led into the desert.

I boarded the off-road spectacle with a bit of trepidation. I had never experienced this gentleman's driving style, and our lives would be in his hands, literally, for many rugged miles. His driving proved to be quite practiced, and in fact he treated other drivers with a gentleness that matched his soft smile. The techniques needed to avoid being stalled and stuck in the deep desert sand, however, were thrilling if not a bit terrifying. Going so fast as to almost fly on top of the sand was what kept the wheels rolling, and it was exhilarating in a heart-stopping sort of way.