We're on a Boat

On our trip to Egypt, we've found lovely, friendly people, but something keeps us on edge out in the streets: mostly the stories our guides tell us about what to watch for. Don't get into a cab without setting a price or they won't let you out. There's a practically worthless 50 piastre bill sometimes passed off as a 50 pound note by the unscrupulous when giving change-this happened to several of our group coming in from the airport. Never take anything from anyone--if you do, you'll find you've bought it. Don't give anyone anything or yu'll pay to get it back. We were told not to let anyone use our camera to take our photo--not even the tourist police-or it would cost us to get it back.

On our free day in Aswan 3 of us went to visit the village on Elephantine Island. We were on guard against being taken advantage of so when we got to the public ferry and were told it was five pounds (about a dollar) to cross we replied that we knew it was one pound and were given the one pound rate. We spent about an hour wandering around the village-it was like stepping back hundreds of years except all the houses have satellite dishes. Goats on dirt paths tha ran through the houses, every door left open to whomever walks by, people working their crops with an animal and hand tools.

We decided to take a boat from Elephantine over to Kitchener Island to visit the botanical gardens. A local took us down to the water's edge and introduced us to Moustafa, a really sweet looking guy in a djellaba. He had a disarming, toothless smile and spoke perfect English because he'd worked at the very famous Old Cataract Hotel for over 40 years.

We got into his boat without asking how much, but we'd agreed that we'd be willing to pay 20 pounds for the three of us for the crossing so weren't worried about what he'd charge. We'd paid three pounds total for about the same distance.

He started rowing his little boat across, chatting about his family- three boys and two girls, his work at the hotel, asking us about where we're from, how many kids we have. Kelley, a very pretty young blond, and Amy, another pretty blond with fair English complexion, both told him they had no kids and he prayed to Allah for Amy to have two boys and two girls and Kelley to have three boys and two girls. He told us how Nubians are straight, not like Egyptians who are (he drew a zigzag in the air).

It was about then we realized we were in the middle of the lake and had been for a while, and it was hot. He told us he would take us over to the island and wait for us while we looked around and return us to Elephantine- how long did we think we needed? One hour, two hours? Oh not more than one hour we tell him. We have lots to see back in Aswan. Okay so one hour, he'll wait for us. We asked how much. He said how much do you think it's worth. I said ten pounds, thinking I'd negotiate up to 20. He looked shocked. We said okay, how much. He said 145 pounds. We said no, just leave us there then, don't wait for us. It was a five minute row over, he could come back or we'd find another ride. He said there's no other way back-no taxis, people come in tour groups from Aswan and ride back with that group.

He kept us out in the middle of the water ragging on us and refusing to take us in. I asked him to get us out of the sun, the girls were beginning to burn and we were all really hot. i threatened to report his behavior to the tourist police, he did not look worried. We kept saying the same thing: one way 20 pounds. He kept saying the same thing: both ways he'd wait,145 pounds. It was getting hotter, I was getting angry. He told me I had no sense of humor. I told him he had no sense of honor-what about all his talk about Nubians being so honest?  I can't really say what got him to take us in, but when I asked him how he'd feel if someone treated his daughters that way, he looked stricken and headed for the shore-I'm convinced that's what did it.

We paid him 20 pounds and he dropped us off saying he'd wait for us. We said don't worry, we'd be fine. We got onto the island and he was right. No way back. We walked around admiring the garden but all we could think about was how we'd be getting back to our hotel.  We'd look down at the exit and there was Moustafa in his little rowboat watching for us.

Not many people were out in the gardens as it was noon on a very hot day, but we kept crossing paths with a couple and I finally asked if they spoke English. Yes, and they were from Denver. They were out with a tour guide for the day. When we asked to ride back with them, they said they'd have to talk to the guide. After some negotiation and a clear understanding that we had paid Moustafa for the one way ride, he let us get on their fabulous little felucca at a different exit point than the one where Moustafa lay in wait. We and the couple and their kids were the only people on the boat. The ride was a highlight of our trip so far and such a relief.

We went back to Moustafa's island that night for dinner. Cooked by a widow and her four sisters, the meal was incredible. The family charmed us. Kids running around, playing hand clapping games with women in our tour group and practicing their English, were especially fun. We left with a very good feeling for Elephantine Island and it's residents, but we kind of hope Moustafa is still out there waiting for us at the garden exit.