Evil Is the Water of the Sheikh

I'm back in Cairo after a relaxing two nights in Sharm El-Sheikh (the name of which apparently is an abbreviation of the phrase "evil is the water of the sheikh," coming from a story in Islamic folklore). I'm not really sure how good it is to be back (the traffic on the way back into town was exhausting, and as I write this I can hear the screeches of stray cats fighting in the stairwell), but I still have to say that Sharm is by far one of the stranger places I've been in Egypt. The city is located on the southern tip of the Sinai Peninsula in the Red Sea. The water is impossibly blue and the snorkeling is incredible, but still the beaches weren't what I was used to. There is no public beach, only small private ones. This wasn't a problem, as our hotel gave free vouchers for access to the beach across the road. Yet no one actually laid out on towels on the sand, instead on the thousands of lounge chairs that were available, but I guess this made sense since the sand wasn't fine at all, but a bit like kitty litter. Then there was the sea itself - no waves, and it wasn't deep enough to really swim. People either stood or sat in the water. The unfamiliar beach was not a big deal however; honestly, I was thrilled to be able to relax by some form of water and attempt to tan. The strangest thing was that the city seemed to lack a necessary ingredient of Egypt: Egyptians. The vast majority of the people in Sharm were tourists from Europe and especially Russia. Plus, the city lacks any kind of ancient history or cultural landmarks, but some have been constructed for the benefit of the tourists. Thus, the downtown area seemed to me like an Egypt Epcot, not Egypt itself. True, there was a camel walking around which you could pay to ride, and shop owners sold Nefertiti pendants, miniature pyramids, and scarab beetle beads, but there was no call to prayer, few hijabs and little modest dressing, and many languages other than Arabic being spoken - not like the Egypt I'm familiar with. Even the traffic was shockingly different. Every single time I went to cross the street, cars slowed down and allowed me to pass easily and without honking, something that would be unheard of in Cairo.

It may seem like I'm complaining about Sharm, but in truth I had a wonderful time. Two days of lying in the sun and reading was exactly what I needed before I struggle through a final week in Cairo. Regardless, I couldn't help but notice that Sharm El-Sheikh is about as Egyptian as Pizza Hut is Italian.