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The pyramids make all the difference. Apart from those towering monuments to timelessness, Cairo could have been Delhi-on-the Nile. It has the same teeming, slightly irreverent feel about it; the same heady mix of bustle, bureaucracy and brash business acumen; and the same brilliant, kaleidoscopic, shifting cameos of racial interactions giving birth to new, and creative fusion of customs. But the pyramids, particularly the Great Pyramid of Khufu, rising an awesome 136 metres, was built 1,100 years before Delhi’s Indraprastha. Its looming presence dominates many of the modern streets of Cairo even though it is 18 km away from the heart of this ancient city.
Driving to Giza, where the pyramids stand, one can see the Sphinx, with its lion’s body and human face. Many believe that its face was modelled on that of Pharaoh Kafre, son of Khufu. In Arabic, the Sphinx is known as Abu al Hol, "the Father of Terror", but no one is quite sure why it was put there. We, however, believe that it served the same purpose that dwarapalas serve in our temples: it’s a guardian of the gate to the funerary temple of Kafre.
Winding our way down from Giza, we visited the pink mass of the unique Egyptian Museum. It holds the world’s greatest treasure trove of Egyptian art and antiquities. Even a month would not have been enough for us to see all that it holds, including its mummies with skin-like black parchment. Photography is, generally, not allowed in the museum but we did manage to get a picture of the golden mask of the child pharaoh Tutankhamun. He died at the age of 18 but, in his short reign of nine years, managed to restore the old religion which had been changed by reformers. Though Egypt is, now, a predominantly Muslim country, the descendants of the Pharaonic race are Coptic Christians, and Egypt was a Christian country for many centuries. Christian scriptures say that the infant Jesus was taken to Egypt by his mother, Mary, and his foster father Joseph to escape assassination by the Jewish King Herod. In Cairo, we visited the Coptic quarter and entered the church built around the crypt, the underground chamber, where the Holy Family had, reputedly, hidden from their persecutors. The Copts belong to the orthodox persuasion of Christianity who broke away from the authority of the Roman Catholic Church in the fifth century. We visited a shop selling Coptic crosses, icons and religious objects giving us a fascinating insight into a forward-looking community that has clung to its beliefs in spite of centuries of trials and misunderstandings, including those created by fellow Christians.
The Pharaonic people were also skilled perfumers. In the Golden Eagle Perfume Palace, we entered a hall glittering with glass flasks in a myriad colours and intricate designs. There, a very enthusiastic salesman introduced us to the lore of perfumes made according to "instructions laid down in ancient papyri". The perfumes were not distilled, as they are in other countries but pressed out of flowers and herbs. These concentrated essences, he said, are exported to well-known scent manufacturers in Europe. There they add alcohol and other ingredients and market them under very expensive brand names. As an example, our informant claimed that he knew the ingredients of Chanel No. 5 and even dabbed some of their replica of the famous perfume on our wrists. It smelt authentic. Then, very effectively, they sales-talked us into buying some Essence of Lotus and gave us a beautiful Pyrex flask called zugaga. We’re waiting for a suitable occasion to rock the room with Essence of Nile Lotus drawn from Pyrex zugaga.
No visit to Cairo can be complete without a walk around that Arabian Nights Bazaar, the Khan-el-Khaleli. It is a labyrinth of alleys and lanes with a wonderful medieval atmosphere and some of the shop-owners assured us that their ancestors had set up their establishments in the Middle Ages. Most of the glittering gold shops have a modern look but, like many of ours, offer crafts evolved through centuries. The ambiance was as chaotically magical as Delhi’s Chandni Chowk and bubbling with an effervescent friendliness. On our last night in Cairo, we had a Dinner Cruise around the harbour. The wines were, reputedly, French, the buffet spread was lavish Mediterranean fare and as robust as our North Indian cuisine. The belly dancer was more enthusiastic than skilled but the whirling, twirling, male dancer was incredible. He spun his skirts into discs, fans, umbrellas, even created a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes! He did all this without missing a beat while weaving his way through the tables, not colliding into anyone, not pausing for even an instant. It was a virtuoso performance and we’ve not seen anything to match it anywhere else in the world. Then, as we were driving out to the airport, the next day we saw the beautiful domes and minarets of Mohammad Ali’s mosque crowning the Citadel of Saladin. We were a little pensive as we crossed the Nile for the last time. A horse-drawn cart carried gas cylinders across the bridge with the towers and high-rises of Cairo rising behind. It was a cameo of a timeless city. We recalled what an Egyptian friend had said: "Those who have tasted the waters of the Nile will always return." Perhaps we’ll see the pyramids again: Inshallah!
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