Return to Cairo and Other Frustrations.

Like I said in my last post, the return trip from Dahab was bizarre and frightening. We boarded on a large empty bus at around 7:30. Neither the AC nor the reading lights worked and we, inconveniently, lacked a bathroom on the bus. A far cry from the luxury of all these things on our bus out of Cairo. It was ok though, except for the fact that I had blown a hundred and twenty pounds (roughly 25 US) on a book specifically for the ride back, as my iPod decided to fail on me.

Anywhos, so the ride gets under way and our first stop in Sharm El-Sheikh. The few other passengers all get off the bus. Fantastic, I think, we are going to have the bus all to ourselves. Eddie and I get off the bus to buy overpriced potato chips at what can be best described as a desert parking-lot cafe. We walk back to our bus to see a large, VERY large, group of people, suitcases in hand, waiting to board our bus. As we were finishing our chips the bus driver gets on, closes the door, starts the engine, and begins pulling away. Eddie and I shared a quick what-the-hell-is-going-on type glance and panic, real panic, sets in. I run up to the bus door and start pounding. The driver looks at me and waves me off. A million horrible thoughts run through my head.

We need to find a hotel in Sharm. We need a taxi. Im out of cash. Eddie could pay. I already owe him money, can't ask for more. There should be an ATM somewhere here. Where's the ATM?! THERE IS NO ATM!

We ran towards the bus. I'm apparently more frightened than he is, as I outrun him by quite a distance.

My bags are on the bus. I wont even have clean boxers.

My run turns into a desperate sprint.

Suddenly the bus stops and parks and the doors open again. Eddie and I are out of breath at this point and behind me I hear a man laughing, loudly. He tells us that the bus is just moving to make room for other buses pulling up. I laugh, half-awkwardly and half-relieved. Sort of a quick "heh." He laughs and introduces himself at Mohammad (all the stereotypes are true regarding Arab names, by the way. Almost every Arab I've met has been named Mohammad, Akhmed, Omar, or some strange variation of those names). We all introduce ourselves and share a quick conversation, Mohammad using his best English and me using my best Arabic (which was not nearly as good as his English). We board the bus and it is packed with people. My seat had been taken over by a young girl wearing a headscarf and she is holding on to my book that I had used to mark my seat. I, for the 2nd time in about 10 minutes, panic slightly. I am unaware of proper bus etiquette regarding strange men and women sitting next to each other. Heres the best part: we had assigned seats next to each other. So I take my seat next to her and she is still holding my book, with little inclination to give it back.

I want my book back.

I pointed towards my book (which she had placed underneath hers) and say "kitabee" (my book). She giggles and hands it back to me. I start panicking again. After everyone boards I see that the seat next to Eddie is vacant, so I take it. Mohammad approaches us.

"Is that you're friend back there?"

I look back and see Chelsea, a white (very white) girl completely surrounded by boisterous and large Arab men, with a frightened look on her face, like the look on a small child when you threaten to hold them up to the ceiling fan.

"She should sit up here next to her" he said, referencing the headscarved book-thief, who was sitting next to my former seat. I raise my hand to get Chelsea's attention and point to the seat to my right, where I was just sitting. I've never seen anyone move so fast in my life. Chelsea sat down and the bus started moving again.

A few moments later I feel Eddie staring past me.

"What are you staring at?"
"That girl sitting next to Chelsea is hot."
"HER!? Are you crazy?"
"No. Shes hot. You don't think so?"

Next thing I know he's trying to Chelsea's attention. He wants her to act as the mediator. After teaching Chelsea a few basic Arabic phrases to use, she starts asking away. Suddenly she breaks into near perfect English and starts talking about her wonderful boyfriend. Eddie is heartbroken, but won't give up.

"Ask her if they're serious."

At this point I start spacing out and try to get some sleep. As soon as I close my eyes, I hear a voice come over the radio. Its all in Arabic and it does not take me long to realize its a sermon. Eddie stops his quest for his new found love and my eyes open. Should have expected this, as it is, after all, the first day of Ramadan. We laugh about this, about how this would never fly in the United States, and we both go back to our respective positions. Suddenly I hear the voice rise, into a beligerent tone, and then into all out yelling. I ignore this until I hear what sounds like the following.

" something-something-something Amrika (America)."
"something-something something Amrika!"
"SOMETHING-SOMETHING-SOMETHING AMRIKA!"

I panic.

I look at Eddie, who got the message, and then over to Chelsea, whose eyes are wide open with a little bemusement and fear. I feel people staring at us. I make eye contact with a man behind me who sees the look in my eyes, and he laughs, as if to say "don't worry". I return a phony smile. I see our other travel companion in front of me, passed out.

"how is he sleeping through all of this?"
Chelsea responds. "He took a sleeping pill."

Barely was the last syllable out of her mouth before I shook him, violently, to wake him up. He budged and turned around.

"I need your sleeping pill. Now."

He didnt even respond verbally, just took out a case from his pocket and passed it back to me. I had had enough, between the heat, nearly getting stranded in the desert, my friend hitting on a girl wearing a headscarf, and now listening to a sermon that was damning me and my country. I stole Eddie's water and took the pill and tried to get to sleep. Of course, as soon as I did this, we pulled over for a meal break. I walked out with Mohammad and Eddie and we took a table for some tea. Soon after we sat down, we could hear one of the buses honking.

"Its not us", Mohammad said.
A second later my phone rings. Its Mike, who stayed on the bus.
"Get on the bus now. We're leaving." Our waiter tells us we owe him 30 pounds.
"30 pounds!"
"Ok, fine, 20 pounds."
With time not on our side, we rush to pay the 20 pounds and, for the second time in one night, I find myself running through the parking lot to avoid getting stranded in the desert.

ARE THERE ANY ATMS IN THIS COUNTRY!?

The bus driver stops the bus and we get on. Mohammad tells the driver something in Arabic and he gets off the bus again, goes back to our waiter, and we see him screaming at him. With flailing arms and everything. He gets back on the bus.

"What was that?" I ask.
"He charge us too much." He then quietly takes his seat and goes to sleep. The sleeping pill kicks in and I fall asleep also.

Next thing I know I wake up to my head drifting from one side to the other, bumping into Eddie and then into the aisle. I dart awake. The bus is going to tip over. I need an ATM. I want my book back. I come to and see that the bus is going at least 80 mph. I see sand splashing out into the street and the bus plow through it, leaning dramatically with every turn we take. I immediately hold onto the seat in front of me. I am now extremely aware of everything. Its now 4 AM. I had slept for 5 hours.

I panic. I am going to die in the middle of the Sinai on a bus. I don't get reception. How am I going to call for help?

This goes on for about 3 hours before the bus stops along the side of the road. The lights turn on. I don't recognize where we are, so we all try and go back to sleep. The bus driver approaches us.
"You get out."
It's now Mike's turn to freak out.
"What?"
"Get out."
We look out of the window. Where are we?
"Cairo?" Mike asks.
"Cairo" he responds.

We are back in Cairo, I think.

We got off the bus and I see Mohammad. He says we are in Cairo... kind of. He walks up to a van and starts speaking in Arabic. He comes back.

"They will take you to Zamalek (our neighborhood in Cairo)."
How far? I ask.
"Two hours." Its now 5:30 A.M.
We were demoralized, sleepy, and, at least in my case, felt like we had cheated death about 3 times. We said ok, just wanting to get home. I said goodbye to Mohammad, thanking him for his help, and he took my number. To make a long story short, the drivers had no idea where we were going, had to stop every 10 minutes to ask for directions, and we eventually gave up on our drivers and as soon as we saw a recognizable landmark near our dorm, paid them and walked the rest of the distance. I dropped off my bags in my room and walked out on my balcony just in time to see the Cairo sunrise then promptly fell on my bed and slept until the next afternoon.