Birqash, Egypt
Birquash Camel Market (souq al-gamaal) is some 30 kilometers northwest of Cairo, sitting on the edge of rural Egypt. I read about it on the LP Bible, and it just caught my attention as the place to go, the place to see a bit of rural Cairo.
The guide book gave out three options on how to get there: a easy $10 taxi ride, a cheaper option of a well organized hotel bus, or the one that relies totally on public transport. Having developed a taste for sampling the local transports in the last few months, I choose the latter.
"Come on, I been in Egypt for month now..., this will be piece of cake."
Friday Morning
It was not to be. Not an hour after I left the hotel that morning, I was lost. I ended up standing on the side of the freeway near Mohandiseen, screaming "Souq al-gamaal!!" to all the passing cars, hoping I will get lucky. After fifteen minute of waiting, screaming, and waving my arms... I gave up.
Take the bus to Mohandiseen, find a certain sign and this cafe, and wait there for a microbus to pick you up...The book said. Well... I didn't find no sign. and I certainly didn't find no cafe. I tried asking around, but it seems like every one is pointing me to a different direction then the last guy. It was going nowhere.
It was getting close to noon, and it's getting hot. I can feel that dust grinding into my skin, every time I tried to wipe the sweat off my face. With the tail between my legs, I hoop back on to that bus that bought me here, and went back to the hotel for that shower. I was tired and defeated, and all I want is to lie in my bed for the rest of the afternoon and hope that when I wake up, it'll be nice and cool, and this day is over and forgotten.
That night, I went about doing my homework. Finding what I can from the internet, and asking for all the information from the hotel staff as I can, and practiced saying "souq al-gamaal" and "Biraquash" over and over again, in all the tonal ranges. I had a suspicion, that my so-call Arabic deteriorates rather quickly as my voice raise to the levels of screaming. The hotel staff find some great amusement in this, but I was determined to tried again.
Monday Morning
It was Monday morning, the camel market is supposed to be at it's most active day, and I will be leaving Egypt in 24 hours. This was to be my last chance to go see the camels.
I sat on that same bus that took me to Mohandiseen, and arrived at the bus stop arm with my new found confidence, and a "authentic" Arabic accent, and a piece of paper with the word "souq al-gamaal" and "Birquash" written in Arabic (courtesy of the hotel staff, sympathy for the fool). Soon, the bus station manager delivered me to this microbus driver across the street.
"Souq al-gamaal. Go, go with him."
I thanked him and hopped on, and the microbus took off. "Piece of cake." Very please with myself, "It's all in the preparations..., Lawrence"
"Souq al-gamaal?!...", one of the passenger questioned, before I can remember how to say "yes" in Arabic, a conversation between him and the bus driver followed... It was all in Arabic, but I can sensed that I just may be in the wrong bus. Sure enough, the minibus stopped., and the driver took enough time to delivered me to this new minibus park on the side of the street, after a few words with this other driver, he pointed at this bus, and motioned me to get in.
"Oh no, Not again..." A repeat of what happened two days ago, seem almost inevitable. But having no idea where I am anymore. I figured I'll just go and let see where I just might end up. I hoop on, and ask, "Souq al-gamaal?"
"Yes, yes, yes...", The driver replied.
The minibus took off after some minutes of waiting, and headed back to the direction that we came...Couple minutes later, we came to a stop at this dirt field next to a train track. and pointed to this other microbus parked not too far ahead, and said:
"Souq al-gamaal. That one."
"Here we go again...What is this? My fourth?...", Wondering how many buses I'll have to get on, before I can go see my camels. I got off and ran to this new bus, and hopped in and hope for the best.
The first ting that caught my eyes , as I hopped onto the bus, was that almost everyone of these guys in the van were all carrying some kind of sticks with them. "The sticks were for beating off the the camels, because they can get quite aggressive..." It is just as I remembered from this travelogue that I read on the internet, over the weekend.
"Yes!! This... GOT to be the one!!" Boy, was I happy.
The problem is, the bus is already full. I looked around, and find these railings near the door. I sat on one of them, and proceeded to wrap my legs and arms around the railings and getting myself ready for my dose of rural Egypt. After all this trouble, I don't care about no dame seats, you can strap me to the roof, but I am NOT getting off this bus.
Leaning on this only "seat" that were available in front of the van, and with me facing the back of the bus. I looked up, and found a dozen pairs of eyes all looking this way, checking out this strange new arrival. I put on a smile, and nodded in return.
It didn't stop them from looking.
I did get to see my camels. There is just so much activity there, I spend some four hours there all together. Watching them loading camels onto trucks, negotiating the prices, and dads teaching their kids on the camel trade. It was amazing. Good thing I took the bus, there is no way that a taxi driver would of waited for me for that long.
The guide book gave out three options on how to get there: a easy $10 taxi ride, a cheaper option of a well organized hotel bus, or the one that relies totally on public transport. Having developed a taste for sampling the local transports in the last few months, I choose the latter.
"Come on, I been in Egypt for month now..., this will be piece of cake."
Friday Morning
It was not to be. Not an hour after I left the hotel that morning, I was lost. I ended up standing on the side of the freeway near Mohandiseen, screaming "Souq al-gamaal!!" to all the passing cars, hoping I will get lucky. After fifteen minute of waiting, screaming, and waving my arms... I gave up.
Take the bus to Mohandiseen, find a certain sign and this cafe, and wait there for a microbus to pick you up...The book said. Well... I didn't find no sign. and I certainly didn't find no cafe. I tried asking around, but it seems like every one is pointing me to a different direction then the last guy. It was going nowhere.
It was getting close to noon, and it's getting hot. I can feel that dust grinding into my skin, every time I tried to wipe the sweat off my face. With the tail between my legs, I hoop back on to that bus that bought me here, and went back to the hotel for that shower. I was tired and defeated, and all I want is to lie in my bed for the rest of the afternoon and hope that when I wake up, it'll be nice and cool, and this day is over and forgotten.
That night, I went about doing my homework. Finding what I can from the internet, and asking for all the information from the hotel staff as I can, and practiced saying "souq al-gamaal" and "Biraquash" over and over again, in all the tonal ranges. I had a suspicion, that my so-call Arabic deteriorates rather quickly as my voice raise to the levels of screaming. The hotel staff find some great amusement in this, but I was determined to tried again.
Monday Morning
It was Monday morning, the camel market is supposed to be at it's most active day, and I will be leaving Egypt in 24 hours. This was to be my last chance to go see the camels.
I sat on that same bus that took me to Mohandiseen, and arrived at the bus stop arm with my new found confidence, and a "authentic" Arabic accent, and a piece of paper with the word "souq al-gamaal" and "Birquash" written in Arabic (courtesy of the hotel staff, sympathy for the fool). Soon, the bus station manager delivered me to this microbus driver across the street.
"Souq al-gamaal. Go, go with him."
I thanked him and hopped on, and the microbus took off. "Piece of cake." Very please with myself, "It's all in the preparations..., Lawrence"
"Souq al-gamaal?!...", one of the passenger questioned, before I can remember how to say "yes" in Arabic, a conversation between him and the bus driver followed... It was all in Arabic, but I can sensed that I just may be in the wrong bus. Sure enough, the minibus stopped., and the driver took enough time to delivered me to this new minibus park on the side of the street, after a few words with this other driver, he pointed at this bus, and motioned me to get in.
"Oh no, Not again..." A repeat of what happened two days ago, seem almost inevitable. But having no idea where I am anymore. I figured I'll just go and let see where I just might end up. I hoop on, and ask, "Souq al-gamaal?"
"Yes, yes, yes...", The driver replied.
The minibus took off after some minutes of waiting, and headed back to the direction that we came...Couple minutes later, we came to a stop at this dirt field next to a train track. and pointed to this other microbus parked not too far ahead, and said:
"Souq al-gamaal. That one."
"Here we go again...What is this? My fourth?...", Wondering how many buses I'll have to get on, before I can go see my camels. I got off and ran to this new bus, and hopped in and hope for the best.
The first ting that caught my eyes , as I hopped onto the bus, was that almost everyone of these guys in the van were all carrying some kind of sticks with them. "The sticks were for beating off the the camels, because they can get quite aggressive..." It is just as I remembered from this travelogue that I read on the internet, over the weekend.
"Yes!! This... GOT to be the one!!" Boy, was I happy.
The problem is, the bus is already full. I looked around, and find these railings near the door. I sat on one of them, and proceeded to wrap my legs and arms around the railings and getting myself ready for my dose of rural Egypt. After all this trouble, I don't care about no dame seats, you can strap me to the roof, but I am NOT getting off this bus.
Leaning on this only "seat" that were available in front of the van, and with me facing the back of the bus. I looked up, and found a dozen pairs of eyes all looking this way, checking out this strange new arrival. I put on a smile, and nodded in return.
It didn't stop them from looking.
I did get to see my camels. There is just so much activity there, I spend some four hours there all together. Watching them loading camels onto trucks, negotiating the prices, and dads teaching their kids on the camel trade. It was amazing. Good thing I took the bus, there is no way that a taxi driver would of waited for me for that long.
posted by 54 at 2:02 AM
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