Ahhh... As-uan

I have to say, for every creep story I might have, there are ten more kind ones. I tell the creep ones not to worry or stress people out but because they’re really pretty funny. And honestly, the very, very, VERY few times I’ve felt creeped out, it was only that, creeped out. I’ve never once felt the tiniest bit unsafe since I’ve arrived. If I need anything , even if I don’t think I need anything, someone has always been there to help or give me tea or take me somewhere. Truly amazing people. Everyone must come to Egypt!

So, more examples of super niceness… I now needed to buy a train ticket to get to Aswan remember? but the train ticket guy was really sorry to tell me that there were no trains. What? Of course there are! They go a few times every day. No, no, no, air conditioned car train finished. Tomorrow, you want for tomorrow? This isn’t about money, they all honestly want to make sure I’m touristy comfortable. SO NICE! It’s okay, I tell him, I just want local train. Oh! Local train! You go with Egyptian people! No problem, you buy ticket on train. Yes, yes, welcome to Egypt. So while I listlessly try to pass away the three hot and sunny hours waiting for a train that’s supposed to come somewhere around 2pm, I’m of course lazing around on the wrong side of the tracks at 2:15pm because I figure I’ve got loads of time.

*side note* I’m still on Africa time. That simply means that I expect everything to be kinda sorta somewhere around when they say it’s going to be and when we’re all loaded up and ready to go, that STILL gives me another 10 or 15 mins while drivers and such sort themselves out. I need to snap out of this as things here are unbelievably efficient! I laughed it off when someone came by at around 2:05pm to apologize for the train being late; I assumed he was just used to whiny tourists who are on schedules they can’t let go of. You can set your watch by scheduled transport here, folks. I kid you not!

Train pulls up just after 2:15pm, I’m not really paying too much attention, and two men around me jump up pointing to my backpack that I’ve left on the RIGHT side of the tracks (I was keeping an eye on it, don’t worry!) You! Aswan? Aswan? Yep, me Aswan. GO! GO! Aswan! I race up the steps across the tracks while they shout at the train and someone pops out to grab my bag and help me on board. Stares all around. Oops. I get settled into my seat and within 5 minutes, two pretending to be official looking men come and stand beside me. They're talking to each other and the man sitting behind me who then speaks up and tells me that the men are policemen and they want me to come with them. What?! Why?! He explains that they feel I’ll be more comfortable, SAFER, if I sit up in the front with them instead of in the local car. Bahahaha! Apparently I really am royalty! No, no, I’m fine, everyone is very nice here, I’ll stay, no problem. They look at me in slight disbelief, shake their heads, and carry on. Oh so well taken care of indeed!

A very kind man on the train makes sure I get off at the right stop and I’m in Aswan. Taxi driver insists he knows where he’s taking me, I’ve got the name of a place in mind this time so I’m ready, but we drive in circles around and round. Finally he finds the place with many apologies and a “Welcome to Aswan!” and in I go. The guy at the desk has slime oozing out of him and he’s more than happy to show me a room. He tries to slip an arm around me as he slithers out from behind the desk but I was quick with the sidestep. Unfortunately the elevator was the smallest, narrowest thing I have ever seen. It was just long enough for the two of us to stand shoulder to shoulder and pressed up against the back wall, I could not put my arm all the way straight out in front of me. Smaller than a closet small. He insists I stand next to the buttons so he can do a boob swipe as he “oh, excuse me” presses the floor, then has hands on me, helping me out of the elevator. Seriously dude, OFF! The room was so nice, especially after what I had just come from in Edfu, but out on the balcony, just a smidge bigger than the elevator, he again had me cornered so that he could put his hands around my waist and guide me inside, trying to cuddle up to me. Ick. Ick. Ick. So Mr. McFeely Hands grabbed and pawed until we got to the desk. I said it was too expensive, it SO wasn’t, and as I bent down to pick up my bags, I heard a growl… “mmmmm, yes, good, good, very good.” I snapped my head up to see him leaning over the desk, craning his neck, as he tried to get a good look down my shirt. Vomit. With a great deal of restraint, I raised my voice just loud enough for others to hear that this was a very nice hotel but he was a very bad man, he is no good, and I will not stay because of him. “Bad man” gets the point across really well over here. Yuck, yuck, yuck!

And again, REALLY?! How do men, in any country in ANY place think this is a good idea? I know all of you girls can relate, the guys at the construction site you have to walk past, the goob in the convenience store who happens to always work the shift that you stop in, the slippery skid at the pub who seems to be a permanent fixture. Seriously, guys, think what you want but really, when those thoughts leave your head and enter MY world, it’s not winning you any brownie points. Even on those ugly days when I’d rather not be seen, THAT kind of attention simply warrants a punch in the balls. Enough said. Blech!

On the front steps of the hotel, as I re-adjusted my pack and shook off the slime, a man was just getting out of his car and coming up the steps. Can I help you? No, I’m fine. You don’t look fine, are you okay? No, I’m not okay! I need a place to stay and this is a bad place with a bad man! (Don’t I sound like I’m 5?! Too funny!) Oh madam, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. Please, let me help you. I’m of course super wary at this point but he pulls out his business cards and a portfolio, he’s a tour operator and he uses this hotel for his Korean guests sometimes. This man takes me in his personal car, for free, and drives me to my latest and greatest hotel, overlooking the Nile, for the same price, with assurances that I will be very, very safe here. I want you be happy, I no like how your face look out of that hotel, I want to change your face. I want you to like Egypt. Oh I do, I do. I’m sorry. It was a bad 5 minutes and now it’s all good. Thank you so much Mr. Mohamed. I love Egypt!

So my new hotel is on the main street of town with the unbelievable constant laying-on-the-horn-honking drilling shrilling into my brain but my big window opens up directly over the Nile, it’s clean and big and cozy, and I’m settled in for a good few days. In Edfu, I barely took anything out of my pack, within 10 minutes here, my whole bag has been unloaded. Yep, I’m comfortable, the staff is SO lovely, and I’m gonna be just fine!