Siwa the Swamp

On the evening of the 5th of February clouds were looming in the sky looking a little heavy an unpredictable. Siwa encounters perhaps a couple of millimeters of rain a year, if that. The place is bone dry. Sand storms are a regular occurrence but rain is scarcer than a bacon sandwich round these parts.

Anyway, after a merry roast everyone hit the sack, expecting the clouds to have disappeared by the morning. 

I awoke on Sunday to a funny smell which I couldn't place for the life of me. It was a musty, cementy smell. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, at which point I realised my head hurt slightly from the night before. I paused for a second before lowering my feet to the floor and into an inch of freezing cold water.

Water was streaming out of every plug socket in the room and dripping unremittingly from every door frame and crack imaginable. It was something out of one of those weird dreams where everything distorts and turns into something else. The lovely blue wall paint was bulging into giant globules on the wall, sagging with fausty water. Being on the top floor meant I had first dibs . It had soaked through the layer of rotten rubbish and crap lying on the roof and seeped into every  crack and cranny imaginable.

The carpet in the main room was stinking and sodden and as I tried to squeegy the water out and onto the tiled area, disgusting waves of brown, most likely cholera-infested swamp water came gushing forth.

Luckily, I have little possessions as it is and the night before I must have been sober enough to not toss random items of any value on to the floor.  As I attempted to drain the marsh that was now my apartment, the stench of years of unwashed carpet nearly made be gag. After dropping a few things in the quagmire in an attempt to move them to higher ground the phone rings and Penny announces that school might possibly be off this morning. Their house out in the sticks was inhabitable last night and all the school books are now teetering of the brink of disintegration. She them reminded me that the wiring here is the dodgiest on the face of the planet and not to go touching any dripping light switches or poking any plugs. The town was already starting to resemble a mini firework display so I took onboard the advice and got back to sweeping muck out the front door and down the stairs probably straight into someone else's apartment.

Town was completely drowned and lights were sparking all over the place.  The majority of Siwan houses are made of mud and bits of straw and found objects which gives me the impression there isn't likely to be any drainage system installed in this state of the art metropolis. The shop next door is doing a roaring trade and has sold out of plastic sheeting within the first hour of business. People are rushing to gift wrap their houses against another downpour. Ludmilla had left me her plants to look after whilst she went back to Russia for a month and I had, up until now been very green-fingered and nurturing towards them. They sat on the balcony soaking up the sun. Now however the majority of them resemble miniature potted mangroves, some of them are completely pulverised into mush after meeting a watery end on my bedroom floor. 

I'm hoping to get away with using the Natural Disaster- get out shit free card. Fingers crossed. 

It was only after 2 hours of de-waterfying the place did I remember I had a rabbit on the other balcony. Poor Revo. I braced myself to find a cold soggy dead bunny lying in a  pool of poo and water but it turned out it was just not his time...yet.

His lovely Blue Peter-syle abode was indeed a little droopy but it appeared the other end of the apartment was was drench-free.

Today is Friday and even though water has stopped dripping incessantly from the ceiling, I have had to roll up my stenchy carpet and take it for a dunk in the kids Pool. The reason for this was that there had become strange smell which later Penny identified as cabbage. Old cabbage smelling carpet. Not good. Apart from that everything is pretty much back to normal. The roads are beginning to be passable again and I can ride my bike to school without disappearing head first into a swampy trench.

Aside from causing a truck load of destruction for 3 days, the rain in Siwa was undoubtedly a once in a life time occurrence. I'm glad I was here to witness the drenching but I'm also glad it only happens once a century. 

th

REVO! (the rabbit)

The first news of the protests in Cairo began to trickle through to Siwa at the beginning of the trouble. The mood in Siwa was tentative but business resumed as normal. Those who owned televisions filtered though bit by bit snippets of the events that were unfolding. 

The death toll mounted and communications were severed with the outside world. The Siwans don't tend to consider themselves "Egyptian" as such. For one, Siwa is closer to Libya than Cairo and the majority of the population in Mersa Matrouh and Siwa are predominantly Bedouin or descendants from Berbers. However, all eyes and ears were open to hear of developments in Cairo and Alexandria as inevitably there would be repercussions felt here at some point. 

The Sheiks of Siwa have taken control and organised patrols in an attempt to safeguard the people and the remainng tourists who have managed to get themselves stranded here. It remains a very tribal area and in Siwa it is clear that the people here are different. Everyone looks after one another, cafes have started to provide free soups and the little supplies they have to marooned visitors unable to withdraw any money or take a bus out of the town. 

Wednesday afternoon Penny came into the shop looking, quite frankly Aghast. She then proceeded to relay to me that the town of Matrouh had been looted. all the shops were empty and not only that, our very special and sacred booze shop had been ransacked also. It gets worse. Not only did they loot the booze shop, they used the alcohol to make homemade bombs! As my face fell off my head completely I  managed to take on board what was being fed to me. Firstly, I live in the middle of the desert which is dry enough, secondly,  there is a revolution taking place which could possibly last for weeks, months even..and your telling me, the only shop that sells alcohol in a 300km radius has been looted. 

The following day myself and Penny were considering the severity of the booze situation when it dawned on us that the one and possibly only useful thing Siwa has to offer in the way of produce is dates. Dates are abundant here and many people grown them, harvest them sell them and package them out of town...but they are also known to FERMENT THEM INTO YUMMY DATE WINE!!?

So, The internet was down, phones lines were severed, and our alcohol making wits were about us. On the case we harassed Fahmi who told us he had a whole stack of dates he just needed somewhere to make the wine. A night was spent doodling sketches of barrels, pipes and fermenting times. We still need to visit a garden where the professionals make the stuff . This being for a number of reasons really, the first, we'd quite like to remain fully sighted post to the distilling process and second, we don't want to die.

I may have led you a little astray with my talk of wine. This is not wine in the traditional sense. This is what we call here Arak.  I have tasted yummy Arak and I also tasted bad Arak. I have heard stories of Arak makers going blind as well as Arak drinkers go crazy.  For me to describe it as fire water would be the biggest understatement this side of the century. It is however, in a time of crisis, absolutely, unquestionably, a) the only alcohol that will ever touch your lips and b) could possibly be mistaken for the yummiest thing you'll ever drink in your life (depending on your mental state)

There is now no petrol in the petrol station and no Gas in Siwa. No money in the ATM and the veg shop is looking rather depleted.

Time for drastic change. 

As I was cycling home after a wonderful productive morning at school with the guys, I passed the usual butchers ( a cage with 2 live chickens and a rabbit inside) and caught sight of this little bunny sitting in chicken shit looking rather down. Claudia suggested I brought. I chuckled and considered it half heartedly. Ten minutes later I was making 'NOT DEAD' gestures to the boy who worked there as he yanked the poor thing out of the cage by it's ears and started walking in and out of the slaughter room. "Mish- (throat cutting gesture) " I repeated again and again. He understood my crappy arabic and sign language and he was in  fact trying to find me a box in which to put the rabid thing.

I figured we needed a mascot for the Revolution, and the newly appointed Revo the Rabbit would  be it.  I made him a lovely house out of a cardboard box and brought him the only carrots left in Siwa for him to munch on.  He was bony, timid and tired but liked to fall asleep on me whilst I  watched people stoning other people to death on Television.  I wondered whether I had perhaps made a rather rash decision in buying him as I would be leaving the country in a month. Then I figured it would be fine. I would feed his scraggy self up on luscious carrots and lettuces and then when the time came for me to leave I'd give him to a Siwan family as a parting gift.  By this time he would be all fat, yummy and appreciated.

Day two of life with Revo and I'm begining to think I have created a monster. Either that or there is definitely something in the greens here.

This evening, after munching though a whole carrot and a lettuce leaf the size of his whole body he proceeded to hop excitedly about the place, munching on every bit of wooden furniture I have. He looks like he may be on crack. Crack carrots possibly. Occasionally he loll-ups up to me, a deranged twinkle in his eye and then darts off again, probably to take a crap under my bed or something equally gross.

Anyway, I love my little bunny wabbit and for now, however mental he might be, he's very soft and cuddly and doesn't make a sound. He will sleep on my balcony for the time being and run about like a deranged psychopath in the apartment in the evening. He will without a doubt have a prolonged and happier life than if he were still sitting in shit in the butchers cage or in the gut of some overweight tourist.

But all good things come to an end and Revo will inevitably become a martr of the peoples revolution in Egypt ( not out of choice )  He represents any trace of innocence and equality that still exist in this illiberal country. How can a man take money from a corrupt dictator to ride a camel through a crowd of praying Muslims, beating and trampling them to death?

I have just given Revo another carrot which he is devouring like it's his last day on earth. I've told him otherwise but he clearly doesn't believe me. I think my mum could make a fair comparison between his eating habits and mine when I was younger. This worries me slightly.

Must sign off, my bunny is eating my trouser leg and looks like he might throw up.

I have resumed my place at the keyboard as something rather gross/hilarious (had there been someone else in the room ) has just occurred.

After chasing Revo around the apartment for the best part of 15 minutes, I manage to capture him, only for him to then take the biggest piss I've ever seen come out of a rabbit's winky ever, all over me and the floor. I am now covered in rabbit urine and will have to wash the patch of the carpet over which I held him in a manner not dissimilar to that of suspending a small child over an imaginary toilet on a grass verge.

I'm wee-ly glad I have a wevolution wabbit. 

not.

P.S I love him really.

Roman Skulls and Meteorites

(Naser looking very Siwan)

My Intention was to post this a week ago but as you are aware there has been a small scuffle in Egypt whereby 2 million people took to the streets in an attempt to shoo away a right meany of a dictator named Hosni Mubarak. We are still awaiting the outcome. Internet and all communication has been down for the past week so I have taken this opportunity to  upload this post before it's either cut off again, or we have another powercut..which is likely.  A revolution blog will follow in which I will introduce to you my new little friend Revo the Revolution Rabbit whom I purchased two days ago.

25/01/2011

Anyhow, the main reason for this blog is to tell you all about my recent little voyage into the desert.  I was recently fortunate enough to tag along on a two camping day trip with a couple of guests. I was to accompany the avid bird-watcher and American Poet Liz and Aussie teacher Keston. Our driver Naser would be our guide. As we left the town behind us we began making our way into the depths of the unknown. We circled the salt lake and left all traces of civilisation behind us, Liz's face pressed up against the window, her illustrated book of Egyptian birds  clasped eagerly in her hands. We drove around the the huge rocky  structures and passed a large group of flamingos which nearly make Liz wet herself.

Suddenly all the palm trees disappeared and we entered the huge baron expanse which consisted of the odd rock formation and deathly looking shurb. Naser dropped us off to let us go for a wander. There are still the tombs cut out of the rocks where mummies remained untouched for centuries. Over the years they have all been found/stolen and sold to various collectors or museums. I have been told the wealth of certain individuals in Siwa and the surrounding areas have been the result of the unearthing of such artifacts.

As we surveyed the area, Keston noticed three rather large white eggs sitting at the entrance to one of the tombs. It turns out they were Roman skulls, quite a few of them along with other various parts of the human skeleton.  Eerie. I took a lovely picture so you can see for yourselves. 

(Roman remains)

After our little run-in with the Romans we headed out into the sand sea. It's hard to imagine that this huge dry deserty region was once a sea bed. It's only when you walk the crusty stretches of terrain that you notice the crunch of fossilised shells beneath your feet. It is common to find whole shells and sections of coral left over form Cambrian period when the whole of Egypt was submerged and the only life which existed was underwater.

The Great Sand Sea provides evidence of forests, ferns, coral and the first land animals - spiders and insects and in other parts of the desert  fossils of elephants and crocodiles. I had my heart set on finding a sharks tooth which I had heard was a possibility. Unfortunately I didn't manage to bagsey a sharks tooth, instead I had to settle for a 300 million year old piece of coral and a fossilised talon of some large bird of prey. Unfortunately Liz was unable to identify from which species my claw once belonged. Shame on you Liz, call yourself a bird watcher.

The temperature dropped as we arrived at our camp site (an areas of Sand between two dunes) The sunset was incredible and behind us the full moon was rising. I've never experienced silence like the that of the desert. It is actually deafening and hard to describe and it gave me a bit of a head ache. I was imagining I was hearing the sound of the inside of my head..but I can't have been, it's pretty empty up there these days. 

In hindsight it was a good job no one was in the vicinity as our sand-boarding escapade resulted in a series of blood-curdling screams which would have woken any mummified remains within a million mile radius.

(Liz and Keston Dune gazing)

(Liz and Keston Dune Gazing)

After the fire and dinner cooked my Naser we star gazed using Liz's bird binoculars and I found out that what I had previously thought was Orions Belt for the last 27 years was in fact not his belt at all. Now I know.

The next day we visited a hot spring which just happens to be a tiny mini oasis right in the middle of nowhere. 

These small natural springs or oases have usually come into existence due to the tapping of underground water. 

The larger oases of the desert including Siwa are depressions causes by the combination of structual weakness and salt weathering. The oases are usually below the average surface of the desert, near or below sea level where huge underground chambers of trapped subterranean water is more easily accessible. The liquid which rises from these springs is over a million years old and contains gases and minerals of great medicinal value. 

Later we visited the rather large fragments of a meteorite which had once crashed through the earths atmosphere and landed with a splat in the middle of the desert. It's surface was shiny and melted and the pieces I picked up had tiny shells embedded in it.

(A big lump of Meteorite)

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(Oasis in the middle of nowhere)

(Our Jeep)

Bye for now!