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  Luxor, Nile River Valley, Egypt
Tuesday, January 6, 2009

In a just world, you would've read this post a few days ago. It would have been comprehensive but pithy, intelligent but light-hearted, insightful but amusing. You would have liked it, I'm sure. But it was not to be. A few computer errors here, a few curse words there, and it was lost forever to the ether. I tried to replicate it, but I couldn't remember the greatest blog in the world. No! This is just a tribute.

My dad "rests his eyes" as I try to make small talk with the British couple across the aisle just to stay awake. Our minibus intrepidly cuts through the 4 AM darkness, dodging potholes, donkey carts, and rubbish heaps alike. Sluggishly we board a small ferry to cross the river to the West Bank of the Nile. For ancient Egyptians, such a trip would symbolize the passing from life to death. Not unlike the dead, my dad and I lumber on to yet another bus before heading to our final destination: a hot air balloon launch pad.

It was well worth it. Our pilot deftly maneuvered our balloon to cool height of 500 meters to watch the sunrise crest over the desert cliffs to the East. To the West, dozens of ancient ruins sat beyond the clear demarcation between lush, irrigated land and the perpetual desert beyond. The pilot then let the balloon fall and soon enough our basket barely cleared the rooftops of the city of Luxor below. Children ran through the streets shouting salaam and climbed to the tops of buildings to catch a better view. The sounds of the city could be easily heard below - farm animals braying and clucking, people laughing, and the muezzin singing the call to prayer. I am not sure what was the better sight, the ground below or the twenty balloons hanging like Christmas lights in the dawn sky. After a very touch and go landing in the middle of a busy street, we were on our way back to begin our day of touring.

When the Arabs first arrived to this part of the Nile, they were amazed by all of the mysterious ruins. Unsure of their purpose, they called the city al-Uqsur, or the Fortifications. Today, we have adapted the name to the anglicized Luxor. But for ancient peoples, the city was called Thebes, the great metropolis capital of the Egyptian Empire. We wasted no time before visiting the prime attractions of Thebes, the temples of Karnak and Luxor.
The temple of Karnak served as the primary temple of worship for the sun god Amun, King of the Gods. We had already visited Karnak the night before for a Sound and Light Show - essentially a guided walking tour with flashy lights and flashier narration. But in the daylight, Karnak came into its own. At its peak, over 80,000 people worked in the daily service of Amun. Starting around 2000 BC, every pharaoh worth his papyrus added some new and impressive feature to the temple of Karnak. Today, the complex sprawls with over 2 square kilometers of temples, pylon gates, and obelisks. The front pylon gate, rising some 20 meters in the air, still includes an earthen ramp used during its construction to haul massive stones to the top of the building. Continuing through the gate, you soon enter the Great Hypostyle Hall. Representing a papyrus marsh, the Hall contains over 100 towering stone columns, each and every one intricately decorated with hieroglyphics. On the southern side stand Egypt's two tallest obelisks, each standing 30 meters tall and constructed from a single, flawless cut of granite.

While Karnak's immensity and architecture cannot fail to impress, the temple of Luxor might inspire more interest for its unique evolution. Built mostly by Ramses II, Luxor was the center of celebration during the festival of Opet. When the Romans came, they converted the temple into a military barracks. Today, you can still see well-preserved paintings of bearded Romans feasting at table. During the Christian era, believers chiseled out most of the heretical Egyptian artwork while adding the occasional Coptic Cross. But the most conspicuous change came with the Islamic age. At the center of Luxor now looms the white walls and minarets of the Mosque of Abu al-Haggag, built in the 14th century. As we toured the temple, the call to prayer rang out and the devout filed into the mosque, still active after 700 years.

The next day we crossed to the West Bank of the Nile, the realm of the dead. While the Eastern temples all represented the living houses of the Gods, the Western ruins portrayed the final resting place of the pharaohs. We first began with the towering Colossi of Menmon, each crafted from a single piece of stone and rising 18 meters into the sky. We then moved on to the Workmen's Village with almost 100 intact houses left over from the laborers and several tombs with nearly immaculate paintings and inscriptions of daily life. Despite popular myth, the Egyptians did not rely on slaves but instead hired workers and paid them in food and beer. Yet admittedly these workers were "protected" by an outer wall and were forbidden to leave. Secrecy was of the utmost importance. After watching countless fortunes pillaged from pyramids, the Pharaohs instead sought to hide their tombs under the ground to protect their treasures.

Thus was born the Valley of the Kings, the hidden burial grounds for over 60 pharaohs. We visited the Valley's primary attraction, King Tut's tomb. Howard Carter spent many years fruitlessly searching for Tut's lost tomb. Finally in 1922, Carter got lucky. A laborer was digging a small hole to build a fire in an already discovered tomb when the floor gave way to reveal the untouched tomb. For thousands of years, Tut's treasures were hidden after another Pharaoh accidentally built his tomb over Tut's.

We ended the day at Medinat Habu, the mortuary temple of Ramses III. In order to attain legitimacy, Ramses III took the name of the legendary Ramses II and went so far as to make an exact replica of Ramses II's mortuary temple. The Second's temple has crumbled but the Third's has survived history largely unscathed. Ramses III clearly sought to make a single point with his temple: he was a scary, scary man. The front pylon gate depicts Ramses menacingly wielding a mace in one hand while restraining 20 enemies by their hair. Below his feet, prisoners of war with Asiatic and African features walk solemnly to their gruesome fate. In the inside, an executioner awaits them, axe in hand, ready to dismember...well, their members.

It is easy to understand why people visit these ruins and become consumed with the question of how they were built. Of course, I spent more than my fair share of time stupefied at their immensity. But I was more fascinated by a different aspect of these ruins. I realized that they were not just some monolithic window into a previous age, but instead revealed something far more dynamic. In their thousands of years of existence, they have undergone construction and destruction, evolution and revolution, innovation and renovation. From the largest of obelisks to the smallest scripts of graffiti, every niche in every corner tells a story. And that, I realized, is why they are truly amazing.

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