He grabbed a pomegranate from the table next to him and flashed a shy smile my way as I approached. I nodded and a quick flash of steel followed by a skilled twist and the fruit was open. He placed half on the machine, spun the wheel and a few seconds later blood-red juice flowed from it’s silver jaws into my glass. The scent was light but complex and the taste, sweet and tart and almost unbearably delicious. This was nothing like the bottled juice full of citric acid or sugar that one finds in US markets, this was Isfandiyar’s nectar, a wonderful treat!
Domesticated in Mesopotamia by the third millenium BCE (and possibly well before), pomegranates have also been recovered from later Bronze Age archaeological sites in Israel and Cyprus. The Egyptians had orchards full of pomegranate trees by the time of Hatshepsut’s rule (1479-1458 BCE), and the Phoenicians were an important force in spreading the fruit across North Africa and into Southern Europe as their seaward empire grew. The spread north and eastward was across the ancient network of land and maritime trade routes we have come to call the Silk Road.
As the fruit has been traded and adopted, many cultivars have been selected for that vary in fruit and seed color, sweetness, acidity, and astringency. The fruits themselves vary in color from a creamy off-white, to yellow, to the familiar shades of pink and red to a dark, to an almost-black purple. Seeds (sometimes called arils) also vary in color from crimson to a clearish-white color.
Pomegranates have been used as symbols to conjure everything from lust and sexual abandon, to fertility and prosperity, to blood and national identity and even death and rebirth. They have been with us since the beginnings of civilization and their image has meanings that span the entirety of human existence. Think on that as you anticipate the fruit of this year’s harvest. Above all, when they finally arrive, drink a fresh glass of juice and know the taste of heaven. (Words and photo of a Young Man Selling Pomegranate Juice by Laura Kelley).
Most parents will be quick to agree that they learn a lot from their kids. When you have kids, you cease to be the center of your own life and the lessons range from the mundane to the profound. When they are little, you realize how little they know when they come into the world and how much you, as an adult, have come to take for granted. When they are older, you begin to see fragments of yourself or of your spouse or partner who helped raise them. But these characteristics are not a direct reflection. Rather, they are more like a mosaic. From mother to daughter or father to son the tesserae can be the same, but the patterns that they are arranged in can be very different.
I am beginning to pass into a new stage, with a teen and a tween in the house, they are beginning to introduce me to things I have never heard of before. By exploring their interests with them, I am learning things about the world that I never knew. This is quite humbling to someone like me who has always considered herself something of a well-traveled brainiac.
A couple of weeks ago we were at the National Geographic Society to see the latest treasure trove of Anglo-Saxon weapon fittings and religious items (The Staffordshire Horde) that have recently been uncovered in England. Rich, finely worked 24-carat gold with sparkling garnet inlay filled the display cases. Videos to explain the details of the craftsmanship accompanied the exhibition, along with recordings and quiz games of Old English helped to bring the exhibit alive and make it a wonderful way to spend an afternoon.
On the way out, we did the obligatory pass through the gift shop on the way to the exit. While we were browsing, my daughter came flying at me – begging for a mancala set, telling me how fun it was and explaining how it was played. We got the set and later that evening she taught me how to play. That night, I learned that the game is played all over the world and has been for the better part of the last couple of millennia.
What my further research has shown, is that the Silk Road trade of goods, ideas and cultural elements was probably responsible for its spread – at least across the Old World. From Vietnam and Mongolia, through Central and Western Asia, across Central and Northern Africa and into Europe through Andalusia, the Old World plays this game. It passed into the New World with the slave trade and is played from Louisiana and Haiti to the Dominican Republic and Brazil.
If you’ve never seen or played mancala, count and capture or any other variety of the game, it is often played on a board containing at least two rows of cup-shaped depressions or holes in which the pieces are arranged and moved. The number of cups varies across cultures and over time, but the game remains the remarkably the same. The goal is to move all of your pieces off the board before your opponent, and there are strategies, societies and in some nations, major competitions in which people play mancala. Our board is a nicely carved wooden set with small, irregularly shaped stones as pieces, but some mancala boards consist simply of holes dug in the ground or bored into stone into which other stones or objects are moved.
There are 19th and 20th Century claims that the game is arose in ancient Egypt, Jordan or even Mesopotamia – but none of these are accepted by modern game scholars (did you know there was such a thing?) or archaeologists specializing in these areas. The oldest definitive set comes from Axum (Ethiopia) and date from the 6th or 7th century ACE, but an earlier set may come from a 4th Century Roman-era fort in Egypt along the banks Red Sea. The earliest European set is found in Spain’s the Museo de Burgos. It belonged to a daughter of Abd-al-Rahman III, the emir (912-929) and first caliph (929-961) of Cordoba. The scholar Murray, writing in the mid 20th Century, concluded that the game spread from east to west across Africa and from west to east across Asia – which again points to an Eastern African or Levantine origin.
Importantly, Arab and Muslim traders were probably an important force in moving the game around the Old World. The very name, “mancala” comes from the Arabic verb “naqala” meaning, “to move”. It is not mentioned in the Koran by this name, but must have been known to the Arabs in the Middle Ages, as it is referred to in the commentary to the Kitab al Aghani, the “Book of Songs,” which speaks of a “game like mancala.”
Today, the game is played competitively in many Central Asian nations, with Kazakhstan having a national association for their version of the game, Toguz Kumalak, whereas in most of Africa, it is a game to be played while relaxing after the day’s work. Interestingly, in the New World it is sometimes played as part of mortuary or funerary practices – to amuse the spirits of the dead. This suggests that this might have been a practice among the Africans who carried the game with them to the New World, although this practice seems to have vanished in modern-day Africa.
I’ve played a few games with my daughter and can attest to the game being both fun and a great way to teach strategy and the consideration of future consequences when deciding current moves. Thanks to my daughter, to whom I dedicate this post, I’ve found an unexpected echo of the Silk Road found in an ordinary board game. (Words by Laura Kelley. All photos from Mancala Wiki).
N.B. I will be in China for the next couple of weeks and will blog if I can. Hopefully, I will return with loads of tales and photos.
Mother, goddess, harlot, sister, stateswoman, linguist, assassin, daughter, diplomat – Cleopatra, the last Queen of Egypt. Rarely has a woman been so revered and reviled at the same time, and even more rarely have so many half-truths been handed down through the centuries about one. Ask someone in the west what springs to mind when they think of Cleopatra and they will probably site a scene from the 1960s film starring Elizabeth Taylor. Perhaps they will cite the scene in which she is presented, scantily clad, to the conquering Caesar rolled up in a carpet, or perhaps it will be the scene in which she enters Rome at the head of a parade of elephants with Caesar’s son, Caesarion, at her side. Both thrilling depictions of the Egyptian Queen, both more fiction than fact.Last weekend we took the kids to Philadelphia to see the exhibit on Cleopatra that is touring the states. The exhibit is small, well presented and a wonderful exercise in mythbusting the stories that sully Cleopatra’s immortality. For instance, we learned that the Romans didn’t destroy every trace of the queen that they could find. Rather, a great deal of the city that Cleopatra knew and ruled from sunk in a series of natural disasters and now resides on the bottom of the Bay of Alexandria. This sunken city has been painstakingly excavated over the last couple of decades by French underwater archaeologist Franck Goddio with assistance from the Egyptian Supreme Council of Antiquities. To date, Goddio’s work has uncovered remains of Cleopatra’s royal palace, and two sunken cities – Heraklion and Canopus – along with hundreds of artifacts ranging from jewelery and coins to busts of Caesarion and colossal statues of Egyptian kings and queens that adorned the palace.
Of course, while I was walking through the exhibit, I couldn’t help but wonder what the Egyptians ate. The big problem is that although the ancient Egyptians were compulsive communicators leaving excellent records about so many things, there are no recipes. There are representations many things having to do with food, including the types of food people ate, Egypt’s bountiful harvests, activities at a bakery and a brewery, lots of descriptions of commodities paid as wages and several accounts of feasts – but few if any recipes. There are archaeological remains at the bottom of storage vessels, bowls and amphorae; models of servants preparing food and blessedly there are also funerary offerings, so there is some bona-fide evidence on to help us reconstruct the foods enjoyed by Egyptians.
After we returned home I did a little research and was roundly disappointed in the number of books out there that assume that modern Egyptian food was what the ancients ate. Magda Mehdawy’s The Pharaoh’s Kitchen has a lot of good general information about food and feasts. However, given the absence of recipes, she too made the assumption that modern recipes from the areas that would have been ancient Upper Egypt and Nubia made from commodities with documented use in ancient Egypt must be similar to those enjoyed in the ancient world. Unfortunately some of her recipes contain tomatoes, tomato sauce and modern corn – so I think that her assumptions stand on very shaky ground. Also, using the diets of poor farmers in the south to recreate what the queen of a wealthy state might have eaten is so problematic that the comparison is irrelevant for my purposes anyway. Another disappointment was the lack of references or citations for the assumptions presented about Egyptian food. There is a “recipe” floating around on the internet for date sweets that purports to be taken from an ostraca from 1600 BCE – but I believe it is a fake – a Piltdown Man for everyone hoping for a recipe.*
I did find one resource that I think does a pretty good job of showing what food and drink they enjoyed in ancient Egypt, and that is a short but well done booklet by Hilary Wilson called Egyptian Food and Drink. Of course I also consulted Romer’s Ancient Lives which has a nice account of a feast that occurred in about 1204 BCE, but not a lot else about food at Deir-el-Medina. Lastly, I also checked out Herodotus’ Histories for some details on diets from the 5th Century BCE – written only 150 or so years before the Greeks began to rule Egypt.
Wilson’s book rightly notes that the staple of the Egyptian diet was bread in one form or another. They had flatbread and crispy wafers, loaves, conical-shaped breads, cakes, biscuits and pastries – some filled with dates, berries or palm nuts. Yeast was known and used both beer and bread making – allowing for at least some loaves to be leavened, and texture could be controlled by covering a bread mold for a softer consistency. Bread was molded into a wide variety of shapes – my favorite being the triangular one pictured here – and sweetened with honey and dates. Generally bread was made from emmer wheat, but a coarser bread could also be made from ground barley. Most of the barley in Egypt, however, went to make the people’s drink – beer. Egyptian beer was thick and could be adjusted for potency with red being the most popular and black the strongest brew. Dates and other fruits and vegetables were also sometimes used to flavor beer.
As to vegetables, onions and garlic – both sweeter than those eaten today – were widely eaten and used in cuisine. Lettuce, cucumbers, squash and long gourds and melons of many types – including watermelons were also cultivated and eaten. With salt available – there is speculation that many vegetables could have been pickled to provide for ready-to-eat food year round. Lentils and chick peas, pigeon peas and yellow split peas were also enjoyed as well as a spinach-like plant both eaten and used to thicken broths and stews. Wilson states that fava beans were also widely enjoyed throughout a large swath of Egyptian history, but by the 5th Century BCE, we will see that Herodotus suggests that they had fallen out of favor at least in the priestly class.
The Egyptians had a large variety of fruits that they ate – including sycamore figs, true figs, dates, grapes, raisins and pomegranates which were introduced to Egypt in the Second Intermediate Period (1782-1570 BCE). Tigernuts were cultivated domestically, but almonds and walnuts were imported as were apples. Citrus was introduced as a cultivated fruit in the Greco-Roman period, but may have been imported earlier.
As far as meat is concerned, fish and wildfowl were the most commonly consumed. Cattle were also eaten, but much more rarely. Oxen were eaten only by the wealthy or on very special occasions. Pigs were eaten by working-class Egyptians on a fairly common basis as judged by heaps of remains at Armana. Wild game such as antelopes or gazelle were also enjoyed by the wealthy and noble of Egypt. A wide variety of birds were eaten with ducks and geese forming the bulk of those consumed. Wild birds such as egrets, storks, cranes and pigeons were also enjoyed. Eggs of ducks and geese were also eaten.
The milk of sheep and goats was also available in ancient times and fatty residues from a jar in a First Dynasty tomb have been identified as cheese. It is probable that yogurt was also eaten, although no firm evidence of its production or use has been found. Clarified butter may have been used, but grease was widely available from roasted animal fat as well. Several oils were also used including olive, castor, linseed and safflower plus a few unique to Egypt such as the oil from Egyptian balsam and the ben tree.
Herbs and spices cultivated in Egypt included flat parsley, cilantro, celery, rosemary, mint and sage. Cumin and coriander, fenugreek, and black mustard were also grown domestically. Cinnamon was brought in massive amounts from Sri Lanka (perhaps via Syria) and it’s possible that dill and fennel were imported from Western Asian and Central Asia as well.
In Romer’s account of the feast, based in part on ostraca Cairo 25504, shows that the tomb-builders of Deir-el-Medina were provided with a bounty of food to celebrate the Opet Festival because the Pharaoh was pleased with their work and progress. The ostraca details the 9000 loaves of bread and 9000 fish that were brought into the village as well as generous supplies of salt, beans and barley mash for beer. Ten oxen on the hoof were also provided for slaughter which would have provided everyone in the village with several fine meals of meat – and one not had every day by the tomb builders at this time. Romer also notes that there were vineyards near the village and that on feast days it was likely that grape wine was enjoyed as a special treat.
Although writing closest in time to Ptolemaic Egypt of all the references selected, Herodotus’ account offers only a little color and a few details to what has already been noted about the Egyptian diet. Still, it is important to note that the Greeks would have food and drink that suited their tastes imported or made, and this would not be recorded in Herotodus’s writings.
His account called the Egyptians the healthiest men of his acquaintance next to the Libyans and attributes this in part to their diet. Herodotus noted that they ate loves of “maize” (emmer wheat), brine cured fish, all manner of birds including ducks and quail and made wine out of barley (beer). He notes that meats were consumed after curing, boiling or roasting and that this varied by types. He describes the Egyptians living in the fenlands (delta area?) as eating lotus by pounding its heads and roots into flour and by making bread and by eating the flowers and seeds. These same people, he notes, also consume a lot of papyrus by baking the tender stems in a red-hot oven. Other bounties of the Nile seen on the tables of Egyptians in the city of Elephantine were crocodiles.
Herodotus also noted that the diets of the priestly class were different from those of ordinary Egyptians in both quantity and in type. He noted that every day, the priests had sacred bread baked for them and they have each great quantity of flesh of oxen and geese. The priests also drank wine of grapes, but were not permitted to eat fish. Moreover, he notes that beans were not consumed and that the priests would not even endure even to look upon them, thinking this to be an unclean kind of pulse. So it’s possible that beans had fallen out of favor amongst the priests by the 5th Century BCE.
So, what did Cleopatra eat? This far into the essay, I have to admit that I’m not sure. I can say that there is good evidence to suggest that she had a world of food and flavorings available to her and that a queen of one of the world’s wealthiest countries she exploited all of the opportunities that she had to try and taste foods from far flung shores. She also traveled – to Rome and Tarsus and many other places in between and would have had dishes that she became fond of on the road reconstructed for her at home.
There is some good scholarship out there to show us what the domestic production and consumption of food was like in ancient Egypt, but popularly available evidence is sparse in regards to the foods imported and how the trade routes and traders that got the good to Egypt’s already bountiful shores. There is scholarly work crying to be done on this subject that I hope some able soul undertakes someday. Ancient Egypt was powerful, rich and connected and yet there is little evidence of it even in the better popular references consulted. In Wilson’s book we are told that pomegranates are introduced in the 18th to 16th Centuries BCE and soon became cultivated, but there is no mention of where they come from (Western Asia) or how they were acquired. Romer, in Ancient Lives, does mention that although olive trees grew in Thebes, olive oil was also imported from Syria and Crete. Wilson also notes that wealthy citizens also imported certain types of beer from Syrian and Nubia.
We also need modern archaeological methods and tools to be brought to bear on the production, importation and consumption of food in ancient Egypt. As we saw at the Cleopatra exhibit, the Egyptian Supreme Council of Antiquities under the leadership of Zahi Hawass is questioning a lot of accepted knowledge about Cleopatra. The ongoing work of Franck Goddio is evidence of that as are the findings at Taposiris a city about 50 Km south and west of Alexandria. There, Hawass has uncovered many coins and artifacts from Cleopatra’s time, leading him to question whether she really committed suicide as history and Hollywood has shown us – or whether she escaped and fled to a nearby city. Whether a tantalizing possible discovery or showmanship to raise funds for further science – he is questioning the conclusions of earlier scholars and I wish him the best in his efforts for his bravery. God willing, he will continue to stand long-held conclusions on their heads. (Words by Laura Kelley. Photos of Cleopatra Bust from the Antiquities Museum in Berlin; other photos from the British Museum.)
*(I could find no reference of such an ostraca in either the Aberdeen, Ashmolean or British Museum collections. I will, however, continue looking and if I find a reference for the recipe, I will add to this post or post it anew.)
Long ago a Venetian seafarer brought his beloved a gift of seaweed from the far, distant seas. She wanted to preserve the memento forever, so she painstakingly copied the delicate outline and patterns using her needle and thread. . .
So goes the legend of how lacemaking began in Venice and its surrounding islands, now renown for the art. Once, Venice and Burano Island were the lacemaking capitals of Europe. Other than its lacemaking, Burano Island is known as a fishing community. It is easy to see how the women of Burano – accustomed to sewing and repairing fishing nets – could take to the fine art of lace. Together, Venice and Burano filled orders for coronation robes and papal vestments as well as personal adornments for aristocrats and wealthy merchants across the continent. Once, large workshops of women worked long days and nights like armies of spiders to create their diaphanous web-like creations. Today, sadly, handmade needle-lace is a dying artform. A few, often older women, sit stooped in their chairs with a pillow on their laps working on intricate borders and sewn ornaments.
Like most legends, the fisherman’s gift of seaweed to his paramour has a kernel of truth in it, but that kernel has been embellished with a dash of romanticism and a splash of whimsy. The kernel of truth is that lacemaking came to Venice from across the Mediterranean Sea – from Cyprus. The missing bit is that the origin of lacemaking can be traced to more than two millennia earlier in Egypt’s 18th Dynasty.
The earliest (and simplest) precursor of lace can be found in Egyptian mummy cloths. There sheet-like garments were used to wrap the dead in preparation for their journey to the afterlife and were usually made of finely woven linen decorated with fringes. Some mummy cloths had drawn thread work on them in which warp threads had been removed and embellishments added in the holes left by the missing threads.
Herodotus tells us that Pharaoh Amasis of Egypt (570 BC – 526 BC) sent finely woven linen to the Spartans, which, was made of no less than 360 threads (iii. 47); the figures woven on this cloth (drawn-thread or open work) were partly of linen and partly of gold thread. Herodotus also mentions a wonderful pallium sent by the same king to the shrine of Athene at Lindus. Amasis is also important in the lacemaking story for incorporating Cyprus into his kingdom.
By the Greco-Roman period, beginning in the 4th Century BCE, intricate selvedge borders routinely decorated the edges of mummy cloths and sometimes, complex beadworking decorated the hems of the cloths. It is easy to see how the patterning of the beads could be translated to stitch patterns for later lace borders.
Flash forward a thousand years and the Arabs are producing woven macramé. It is difficult to determine Cypriot Lefkara lace is a direct descendant of Egyptian drawn and open work or whether the Arab macramé tradition was an important influence on that development.
Either way, Venice begins its control of Cyprus as early as the late 12th Century. Although this is often called the “Frankish period”, Venice was the hidden hand in ruling the island, until taking direct control in 1481. It is probably during the Frankish period that the art of lacemaking is introduced.
As early as the end of the 14th Century, the Dogaresse Morosini (Doge Michele Morosini) begins to promote the art of lacemaking by forming a workshop of more than 130 women to create personal lace adornments for her and the nobility of allied states and countries in the form of gifts. Another Dogaresse, Giovanna Dandolo, wife of Doge Pasquale Malipiero protected and encouraged lacemaking in 1414 and soon lace had spread throughout Europe and become a fashion necessity for those who could afford it.
Today some five stitches are routinely done on Burano Island: Venetian, Rose Point, Point de Gaze, Alencon, and Argentan. This indicates a decrease from the 20th Century when Flowered Lace (Tagliato a fogliami) and Brussels point were also commonly used.
So, a artform that began in Egypt’s 18th Dynasty persists to this day in Venice’s nearby Burano Island. It is an art that is hanging on ‘by a thread’ and may soon be gone given the age of its masters both in Venice and Cyprus. To me, however, it is a voice from the Western Silk Road that continues to echo today. (Words by Laura Kelley; Photo of Burano Lacemaker by Laura Kelley, Photos of Mummy Cloths and Beadwork from the British Museum, Photo of Modern Macrame from Google Images and Photo of Lefkara Lace from Wikimedia.)
As another year draws to an end on the Julian-Gregorian calendar, it is time to bid farewell to the old and ring in the new; to forget the failures and sins of the past (at least for a few hours); and to pray to or resolve in some way to do better in the future. I woke this morning to find the forest blanketed in a few inches of surprise snow and look forward to a quiet, contemplative passage amidst this crystalline, whitewashed landscape.
A couple of hundred years ago, these rolling hills were pastureland traversed by streams. Now, our woods are made up of tall, deciduous hardwoods, a few gnarly, old pines, and some large hollies, bejeweled at this time of year in rubies and garnets. Fallen giants lay strewn like burnt matchsticks in the snow forming the basis for a rich, new forest floor.
Taking a great leap back in time, the great desert that today stretches from North Africa through the Levant made up part of the bottom of the vast Tethys Sea. Today, this area is covered with sand that ranges from warm, silky Saharan sand that allows one to silently pass to hard, calcium, salt-rich sand that crackles underfoot.
The sand all around can be transformed into clear glass, and great cities and dynasties can fall to dust. Transience . . . impermanence . . . No matter how hard we try for immortality, time, more often than not, has other plans.
On the blazingly hot August afternoon that I took this photograph, I watched the donkey trod slowly and methodically across the ruins of the palace, crunching eons of history beneath his hooves. The palace was once unequaled for its splendor and beauty – occupied by one of Ramesses’ sons and his court. Lives, loves, and intrigues were all played out within these walls that had long-ago fallen away. The path that led now leads to the souk was once a colonnaded reception hall for a prince who later became a pharaoh – a God descended. An Egyptian mud brick here, a piece of Greek pottery or Roman vessel there, the donkey was indiscriminate in his destruction as he strode on.
Some of the great empires and metropolises of the Silk Road have met the same fate as Ramesses’ palace, others have had modern cities grow up around them and eventually devour them, leaving a tourist attraction or a museum in place of a living, breathing humanity.
Modern physics teaches us that time is not linear progression, but rather like space it folds over on itself. So it follows that if you listen or look carefully, that you can hear and see the fragmented echoes of history in the present. China’s Jews may have vanished, but the coarse hair and Caucasoid facial features of their descendants remain. Similarly, the modern merchants who profit off of the sales of shark’s fin and bird’s nests for expensive, Chinese delicacies have forgotten that the great explorer, Zheng He brought these foods back to China from Southeast Asia. Readers of the Silk Road Gourmet, however, can feel and taste the remnants of China’s first great age of globalization in every bite.
Like the artisan restoring a lost mural, first the outline becomes clear and then one-by-one the details become evident as we find the past constantly informs the present. In the act of restoring the past, the man from the future also effects the past – at the very least by changing the knowledge and appreciation of it in the present and future.
If asked, “Who was the most important person of the 20th Century?” Most people would probably answer with the name of a prominent politician – perhaps Franklin Roosevelt or Mikhail Gorbachev, or a scientist like Einstein or an inventor like Bill Gates. Few if any would utter the names of Frank Fenner or DA Henderson who prevented the deaths of uncounted billions of people by conceiving and implementing the ring-vaccination that eradicated smallpox.
History is decided and redecided by each generation as it passes and is intimately bound with their perceptions of the present. As we determine history, we are also altering the past, in part by figuring the relative importance of individuals and events. But the past, even if we are not aware of it, is altering the present – events having provided one eventuality and not another in today’s world. And the present also determines the future – so all points on what used to be considered a timeline are always influencing each other.
So as you cross a major timekeeping barrier – like New Year’s Eve – realize that everything you’ve done, indeed, to some degree, everything you are and everything you will do is only partially under your direct control – that the past and the future are also in play. Relax, have fun and have a Happy New Year! (Words and Photos by Laura Kelley)
I remember being mesmerized by this scene as I walked through the maze of temples on the Eastern bank of the Nile. The harsh mid-morning light blazing down on the monument made the contrast of the centuries all the more obvious. Into the ancient rocks a record of the triumph of the Egypt over an Assyrian army was scored – the pharaoh holding his spear above his head to deliver a killing blow to his vanquished captives. And on the street below, a modern citizen of Luxor, patiently and methodically performed one of the most thankless tasks one can do in a desert – sweep sand off of the sidewalk.
Silently and with short regular strokes his broom fell across the stone avenue – his stooped shoulders displaying none of the grandeur of his royal ancestor, his mind focused on more mundane things than the expansion of empires, national security and keeping the treasury full of foreign tribute. A couple of times, he glanced up at me as my shutter clicked away and then he went back to his work, assuming I was photographing the monument and not giving any thought to him, the living man sweeping the street.
Egypt is in many ways a country suspended between several millennia. There is the ancient Egypt which is the polytheist engine of the modern economy that keeps tourists and their money flowing into the country coffers. Then there is the modern, secular, predominantly Muslim Egypt – which you have to work hard to experience on most tours because it is hidden in plain sight. If you plan to travel to Egypt, make sure you allow time to get out to the streets and markets or take an evening dinner cruise on the Nile to get a taste of modern Egypt and modern Egyptians who aren’t hawking their imperious, imperial past. Sure, the Solar Boat and Abu Simbel are miraculous relics that are wonderful to behold – but they lack a pulse just as much as the venerated royal mummies do and remain preserved relics of a bygone era. Try as well to see the glorious spiral, lantern chandelier that hangs like a celestial whirling dervish above Cairo’s Great Mosque, and rise to the call to prayer if only to hear the chorus and feel the power of voices echoing in the streets below your hotel balcony. That is Egypt – now.
Egypt now is a colorful and lively place. I used to love to just wander through the streets photographing and talking to interesting people who allowed me a temporary passport into their world. One of my favorite shots from Cairo is this one capturing the three generations of women. The old grandmother in her simple, devout widow’s milaya, her beautifully plump and pregnant daughter draped in purple and gold shari like a highly adorned seed ready to burst, and the little one in a modern frilly dress and leggings who will come to maturity in a city saturated with ideas and information that her only partially literate forbearers cannot even begin to comprehend.
Since a few centuries before the Common Era, Egypt has been ruled by Greeks, Romans, Turks, French, and British – only to find liberation half-way through the 20th Century. Throughout the Pharonic period and into Greek, Roman and Early Turkish rule, Egypt was an important end-destination for Silk Road goods. In fact, it was the trade of cinnamon to Egypt that helped made Sri Lanka a fabulously wealthy country several millennia past.
Likewise, modern Egyptian cuisine bears the marks of these ruling nations and predecessor civilizations in a wonderfully unique way. In many ways, the Egyptian table is an umma of food from surrounding nations sharing some commonalities with Levant food, a few specialties with North Africa, and cherry-picking a few select dishes from Turkey and the Arabian Peninsula as well. For example, a meal might include some form of stuffed grapleaves and babaganoush now found from Armenia to Syria, some feta cheese and olives as appetizers and snacks, breads such as a flat and hard lavash or a softer pita, a main dish of meat and fruit cooked in a pyramidal-shaped tagine as they do in Morocco and other N. African countries, rice or a pilaf, and a dessert called basbrisa which for all intensive purposes is Egypt’s version of a western or central Asian ravane. Other desserts are dates and figs, rolled and stuffed with nuts and, my favorite beverage – spiced sumac tea. So the mark of the Silk Road’s globalization of cultures is to be found in Egypt as well.
I love Egypt, both the ancient and the modern, and hope to return someday. I love how people come in couples or with the family to have lunch and enjoy a view of the city from the Great Pyramids of Cairo. I love how some guides try to make an extra buck by trying to convince gullible tourists that they knew them in another lifetime. I love the chaotic markets and swirling streets of the metropolitan areas that give way to a world, with a quiet, gentler pulse just a few miles beyond the city limits. That’s where I took this photo of the boy bringing his family’s crop of sugar cane to the market – a few miles outside of Cairo. What I found difficult to tell when I took the picture was whether the wave of his hand is intended to urge the camels forward with their burden of cane, or whether it was intended to bid farewell to an ancient way of life that is a fading atavism in a world moving too far and too fast in the opposite direction. (All photographs and words by Laura Kelley).