Camels!

A lot of things happened on our second day of Cairo, but perhaps the most important thing is that we rode camels and I witnessed firsthand the horror of domestic violence. It happened when we got to the Giza Plateau. Since they had already been to the Pyramids, Cody and Brian separated and went to see if they could tour the inside of the second one, a separation that ended up proving financially disastrous for me. Beth and I walked towards Cheops’ Pyramid and were soon approached by a couple of guys on camels. When you go to the Pyramids, you’re bombarded by merchants offering you anything from postcards to papyrus scrolls, beaded caps to Coca-Cola. Guards will beckon you over and tell you that where they are standing gives a great view to take a picture, and then expect a tip when you pull out your camera. We had gotten pretty good at tuning all of these wallet-siphons out, but Beth had earlier said that she wanted a picture with a camel, so we allowed these guys to stop us.

What was only supposed to be a picture standing next to a camel soon turned into Beth on top of a camel wearing one of the guys’ headdresses. I, as the photographer, was soon relinquished of the camera, wearing a headdress of my own, and being told to get on a camel. I had no choice in the matter. The camel rose hind-legs first, so that I was pitched forward at a forty-five degree angle, squeezing the camel saddle with my thighs and hanging on for dear life. But then the front legs were up to, and we were on a pleasant ride in front of the pyramids.

The whole ride took probably three minutes, and it was kind of fun to be on a camel in Egypt. They took a ton of pictures of us and for a moment, I was able to enjoy the rocking motion of the camel, the warm sun, and the beautiful view. They took us down an alley (the only alley in the wide expanse of desert that stretches in front of the pyramids) and asked if we wanted to end the ride there or continue. We opted to end it, and Beth’s camel was led off around the corner. As I watched her disappear from view, I realized I was also watching the disappearance of the last reasoning force that stood between me and the camel guys. I was let off the camel, with the same terrifying near-topple forty-five degree pitch, and they immediately started asking about payment.

Let’s just get this out there: I paid them way too much. You knew that even before you started reading this. If you know me at all you know that of course I didn’t stand up for myself and say that a three minute camel ride is in no way worth X amount of dollars. But in my defense, and I know this is a weak excuse, there was a scene of semi-horrifying camel abuse taking place while contract negotiations were going on. It started with my camel, who had been kneeling down after he had let me off, falling down on his side as if all he really wanted to do was take a nap. Now I’m not an animal behaviorist or a zoologist, but I don’t think lying down on its side is an indication of overall camel health. His owner didn’t like this, and flicked its belly with a switch while telling me to pay him in Euros and not Egyptian dollars. When the camel kneeled back up, the owner hauled off and punched him in the snout. Let me repeat that last part: he hauled off and punched the camel in the snout. When I close my eyes and replay the scene in my mind, which I do probably once a day, there is one of those punching sound effects that foley artists add in boxing movies, making the whole thing more upsetting. But at that point, I had just seen a camel get socked and it was hot and I didn’t know where Beth was and I just wanted to get away, so I gave them the money and walked away.

As a side note, I have no idea how much I paid them. I forced myself to forget the exact amount because I knew I was just going to obsess about it and I wanted to enjoy the rest of my time in Egypt. But if you estimate what you think a ridiculous amount of money would be for a three minute camel ride, it is probably in that ballpark.

Beth and I were soon reunited (she had paid well less than half of what I had, the little barterer), and Cody and Brian joined up. We took more pictures, ones that we didn’t have to pay for, and then got back on the bus back to the ship.