The Blue Ghosts of Siwa

Dec 4th-6th

We exited the bus at around four or five in the morning. I had never really felt the true effects of the desert's lack of heat absorption until that morning. Although I was wearing my skin-tight jeans, a sweatshirt I had bought in Alex that everyone said looked like a Star Trek uniform, and my beloved Maasai Shuka, the near freezing temperatures still chilled me to the bone.

Alex's temperature was much cooler than that of Aswan or Luxor, but it did not compare to this frigid desert air. To make matters worse, we hopped onto a motorcycle taxi (a cross between a motor bike and a rickshaw) and the resulting wind from the driver's speedy driving amplified the cold.

We were let off at our hotel, checked-in, and enveloped ourselves in all the blankets that we had at our disposal. I swear it took a good hour before I stopped shivering. After pseudo-sleeping for a few hours, Chris and I went to go see what our hotel looked like during daylight hours. A simple place, but it had a nice courtyard with wicker chairs and tables. We sat down and enjoyed some breakfast and were quickly acquainted with two Britons: Rohman and Mohammed (probably not his actual name, but I cannot find him on facebook or read his email address, so I will use this Common Muslim name instead).

What is interesting about these guys is that they are the first Western Muslims we have met in the Middle East and to hear there perceptions on Islam, the treatment of women within Islam and how they are viewed and received by Egyptians was quite fascinating. We chatted for a while and agreed that we would meet up for some tea and shisha in the next few days.

The Siwa Oasis is located in Western Egypt, just 50 km east of Libya. It is home to approximately 25,000 people, most of whom are ethnic Berbers. Siwans consider themselves unique to other Egyptians and speak an ancient language, Siwi, as a mother tongue rather than Arabic, which they also learn as a second language in School. The Siwa Oasis was the ancient home of the oracle of Amon, who was famously visited by Alexander the Great prior to his conquest of Persia.

Our first day mainly comprised of us relaxing following our long bus journey. We visited the Siwa tourist office to get a map and ask the curator what he recommends we see during our short stay. By the time our minor errands were complete, it was almost sun down. This being winter, the sun set quite early, around 4:30-5:00pm. I grabbed my camera and we set off to climb the nearby Ancient Fortress of Shali. It took us a few attempts to find the correct passage leading us up to the top of the structure. Once there, we just sat and admired the beautiful scenery around us.

Perched on top of the Fortress, we could see for miles. All around us we could appreciate the lush expanses of palm trees that had been fed by subterranean springs for millennia. Beyond the trees were the copper-coloured Dakrur mountains, saltwater lakes and the tomb-structure of Jabal El Mawta. Beneath us were the centuries-old, mud-brick walls forming an impressive labyrinth below the fortress. Not a terrible introduction to this isolated Oasis that Robert mentioned to us, not bad at all.

The next day, Chris and I had spent a few hours trying to negotiate and arrange a desert excursion for our second day in Siwa. We had a few hours to kill before our truck would arrive, so we decided to climb a nearby hill for yet another spectacular view of this sprawling oasis. Once again, it took us a few wrong turns and some direction-asking, but eventually we managed to make our way to the peak. This hill provided us with a beautiful view of the Shali fortress and we spent an hour or so just admiring the splendid panoramic view of this wonderful place.

The Land Cruiser showed up and we were accompanied by three angry Italians. They were pissed off because there was some confusion regarding the price, time of departure and pretty much every other aspect of their trip. Once the situation was diffused, we started off towards the desert. The first part of the trip was reminiscent of an Arabian makeshift roller-coaster: in that, the SUV would barrel up and down monstrous sand dunes while inducing mild whiplash as we bounced around the truck's cabin. It was a blast, even the cranky Italians had smiles on their faces.

We then made our way to a beautiful cold spring, looking much like a lake situated in the middle of the desert. The turquoise waters and golden grass made it a photographic delight. I did not go in because the water was quite cold and I didn't feel like getting wet or changing sexes. As I was walking around the spring, wandering through the tall grass, looking for the best vantage point to take pictures, I was pretty sure I accidentally broke up a make-out session between two lesbians, hiding from the watchful eyes of our conservative Muslim guides. I felt kind of bad, but at the same time I found it kind of funny.

From there, we continued to a hot water spring that was far more inviting than the cold, scenic quasi-lake we had just visited. Soon after, we made our way to some immense dunes and watched the sun set over the infinite sea of sand. Once the sun had descended, we made our way back to the hotel and were deciding what to do for the rest of the evening.

The store-owner who had arranged the desert excursion for us had another proposition. The owner of a desert guesthouse had invited Chris and I to join him and some other guests for a feast they were having later that night. The owner pulled up in his white pick-up truck and told us to get in. We were with three other men, all dressed in white jalabiyas, (Muslim robes), and white and red keffiyehs, or Arabic scarfs. The pick-up truck picked up speed and before we knew it, we were barreling through the desert at 90 kilometers an hour in pitch darkness. Our driver blasted Arabic music and I couldn't help but smile. At that moment, I could just imagine what our mothers would be thinking if they were to see us in this truck; Arabic music blasting, these men in robes and head-scarfs, an unmarked pick-up racing through the desert: we were being kidnapped by al-Qaeda!

Stereotypes aside, they ended up taking us to the aforementioned desert guesthouse where we passed some Asian tourists sitting by a fire. We went to the back room and one of the men started to prepare some food. Only our driver, the guest-house owner, spoke proficient English, so the broken English-Arabic conversation could only go so far. The food arrived shortly after and we all dug in, quite literally, with our right hands. After our feast, we thanked our host immensely and received a lift back into central Siwa.

The dress I had mentioned before is worn by most, if not all, adult Siwan men. Siwa probably had the largest and best selection of Arabic scarfs that I had seen anywhere in Egypt. The men's wardrobe is pretty typical of that seen in most countries in the Middle East. It is the women of Siwa, however, that are truly unique.

Married women in Siwa wear a particularly interesting attire. All women wear the same blue robe, with subtle white and pink embellishments. The robe provides no allusion to shape or figure and culminates as a hood. What sets this apparel apart from other Muslim attire is the black sheet which covers the face, hiding the very essence and form of the woman's face. Even the Burqa and Niqab expose the eyes. Even though women are seldom seen in public, when they are, they appear as blue shapeless ghosts, floating through the streets or silently sitting on the back of donkey carts as their sons ride them back to their homes.

For the first time in my entire blog, I am going to include a photo not taken by me. I did not take any pictures of Siwan women because I wanted to show them respect and did not feel comfortable photographing them. This picture is from www.travelswithsheila.com.

The following day, Chris and I rented some bikes in order to visit some of Siwa's antiquities. We rented the bikes from our friend who set up our excursion to the desert and although I came to really like the guy, I wish I could have used someone else's bike. This bike made every single push on the pedal excruciatingly difficult and my legs were stinging with lactic acid buildup before we even left the town. This was not going to be fun.

Luckily for me, Siwa and it's surroundings are pretty close together so nothing requires that long of a ride. Our first stop was the Tombs of Jabal el Mawta. These tombs, meaning mountain of the dead, date to the 26th dynasty and had also been used by the Romans. A security guard had to unlock each door in order to show us the underwhelming contents within. I'm allowed to be picky, I've seen the valley of the kings!

Next, we arduously pedaled to the Oracle's Temple, which dates back to the 4th century BC. I must admit that it was pretty cool to climb up the same staircase as Alexander the Great once did, even though I don't really know much about the guy.

We continued to the Temple of Amon, and briefly glanced at the one remaining wall that is still left standing.

Our final stop was Cleopatra's bath, a temperate natural spring that is now surrounded by stone. Not only was it quite refreshing, but it also provided refuge from the hundreds of thousands of flies that were surrounding the pool. After our quick dip, we biked back to our hotel.

We took a short break, clarified directions and quickly made our way to the beautiful Fatnas Islands. Actually a peninsula, this palm-laced beach looks out onto a magnificent saltwater lake and numerous conical mountains. A sunset here could not be missed. We sipped on expensive tea and enjoyed our last moments in this magical Oasis.

We pedaled back before the sun had disappeared completely. I had never been happier to get rid of a bike as I was at that moment. We enjoyed an authentic Berber meal, seated on the floor and then capped our night off with a wonderful shisha and ice-cold coca-cola before boarding our night bus to Cairo.

When I used to think of Oasis, the first thing that came to my mind was "Wonderwall" and a sibling rivalry that was beyond compare. Now I hear the word and am instantly transported to this wonderful desert haven, its incomparable landscape, its kind people, and its mystical blue ghosts.