The music of Giza is a counterpoint between the honking of impatient drivers and the voice of the muezzin. As the call to prayer washed across the Giza Plateau, my ride to the airport came and it was my call to head back home. After all, home is a prayer.
But how can one leave a place when it says goodbye looking like this? Your heart would break a little, too. But then again, what’s a little heartbreak if your heart has not been too well for a while?
The ancient Egyptians believed that when a person died, their heart would be weighed against a feather. It was always a question of whether the heart was heavy or light. As I leave, may the scales find my heart lighter than when I arrived.
It was comical at first. The sight of the crowd by the entrance told me that I would not be having epiphanies or spiritual experiences.
And the guide said that if I wanted to go inside the Great Pyramid, I would have to pay an extra fee, climb a narrow and steep incline that could cause claustrophobia, and see nothing inside.
I paid the fee. Being inside the Great Pyramid is not nothing!
So there I was climbing the steep incline when I noticed figures of a family of three ahead of me. The father muttered, “Kapoya man diay ani! Ta-as pa ni? Mao ra ni makita?”
Bisaya! Inside the Great Pyramid!
Amused and extremely happy to be hearing Binisaya for the first time in over two weeks, I laughed out loud and, even without seeing their faces in the dark, called out to the mom a few feet away from me, “Bisaya diay mo Ma’am? Ako pud! Grabe jud ang Bisaya kay mag-abot bisa’g sulod sa pyramid!” And we laughed our heads off while sweating profusely.
When we finally arrived at the King’s Chamber, instead of having a life-changing experience amidst the rose granite especially chosen for the chamber — the heaviest stones used in the entire pyramid, I acted as photographer for my new friends.
The way out took longer because more people were entering by the time. As I exited back into the glaring sun, the guide was waiting for me. He asked me how it went and I told him I did not regret going in.
He drew my attention to the limestones of the pyramid. (The smooth outer layer, which was granite from Aswan did not erode through time. They were removed, stolen, and used for other structures by succeeding generations.) He then pointed at several fossils in the limestone. “What does that tell you?” He whispered.
The Pyramid of Khafre. The second largest pyramid in Giza next to the Great Pyramid of Khufu.
All at once a strong emotion took hold of me and I burst into tears. I tried to control myself but I couldn’t. The tears kept flowing. The truth that we don’t really know anything and all we can do is speculate, and the enormity of history was just so overwhelming to me at that moment.
These stones, stacked perfectly on top of each other by who knows who, who knows how, and who knows why… these stones speak to you in a different language. These stones do something to you.
It was surreal to have this view from my hotel bedroom and its roof deck.
For now, let’s set aside the magical fact that the crescent moon was directly above the pyramids on my first night in Giza; that the place I booked has a roof deck with a view of the pyramids; and the surreality of the pyramids being right there before my eyes the whole time…
Set that aside and raise your hands if, like me, one of the things you looked forward to at the height of the pandemic was the premiere of Secrets of the Saqqara Tomb on Netflix!
Lugging overweight eyebags with me from a restless night on a bus from Luxor to Giza, I booked a day tour to Saqqara, Memphis, and the Pyramids of Giza.
Saqqara is a treasure trove! Until now they continue to unearth new findings from the site. If not for limited time, I would prefer to spend at least three days exploring Saqqara alone!
What seems to be a pixelated image of a building is the entrance to the complex, followed by a colonnade made of limestone that pre-dates Doric columns by thousands of years and believed to be its predecessor. The end of the colonnade opens to the Pyramid of Djoser, the oldest pyramid in the world, designed by Djoser’s architect, Imhotep, circa 2630 BCE. By stacking six “mastabas” of diminishing size on top of each other, he created the first step pyramid.
Entombed in Saqqara are kings and noblemen from the first dynasty up to the Ptolemaic period. What differentiates the bas reliefs here from those in the previous tombs I’ve seen are the daily life depictions: There is one of a butcher, a birthing scene, and even a circumcision scene! Details abound! I could hardly believe that I was walking into the documentary that had provided me with so much wonder during the darkest times of the lockdown.
Displaying the souvenir eyebags from the overnight bus from Luxor to Giza.
A podcast episode that I listened to around the same time I watched the documentary pointed out that Cleopatra’s era is closer to the invention of the iPhone than it is to the construction of the pyramids of Giza. It still blows my mind. When dates are mere numbers written on a page, the breadth of history’s timeline cannot be fully grasped until such a comparison is made. The novelists made those epochs come alive for me, but to be here… to be here is entirely something else.
The Pyramid of Djoser. The oldest step pyramid in the world.
Based on the rising and the setting of the sun, the pharaohs built their homes and places of worship on the east bank and their tombs and mortuary temples on the west bank of the Nile. From the Old Kingdom pharaohs who had pyramids constructed without inscriptions inside their tombs, to the New Kingdom pharaohs who preferred elaborately decorated rock-cut tombs in the Valley of the Kings, the same pattern is followed.
My excursion to the west bank of what once was ancient Thebes began with the grand Mortuary Temple of Hatshepsut that was exploding with sunlight by the time I arrived. At the time it was built, Egyptian architects and artists were believed to be in a phase of reinterpreting the traditional forms of architecture. The temple is said to be an exemplification of this particular period of artistic revolution, and is considered to be one of the architectural wonders of the ancient world.
I was already overflowing with thoughts and impressions by the time I proceeded to the shadowy depths of the Valley of the Kings. By the time I finished visiting the tomb of Seti I, one of the most beautiful tombs in the valley; Tutankhamun’s, whose tomb still contains and displays his mummy; and the tombs of the Ramesseses, I was already feeling a sensory overload. But at the same time, hushed. Thoughts of life and death, light and dark. Egypt does this to you so beautifully.
“Why do you know so much about our history?” asked my elderly guide for the Karnak and Luxor Temples.
“I don’t! There’s so much I don’t know yet that’s why you have to tell me more.”
“Well, you know more than anyone I’ve ever guided. When I ask you something you are able to answer.”
“Maybe it’s Naguib Mahfouz. He made different layers of Egypt’s history come alive for me — from the Pharaonic times up to the revolution.”
“Mahfouz?! You read Naguib Mahfouz?! This is my first time as a guide that I have met someone who reads Naguib Mahfouz! You know there’s a museum and a coffee shop in Cairo…” He trailed off when he saw me nodding, shook his head, and smiled in disbelief.
And there I was thinking how he’d be in for a pleasant surprise if he meets my friends and my book club!
After a brief silence, “Are you sure history is not part of your work?”
“It should be part of everyone’s work.”
“I think you are a genius.”
And just like that, friends. I have been promoted to genius status. I love Egypt.
I did get one answer wrong, and the correct answer fascinates me as a musician. When he asked what the gigantic columns in the Hypostle Halls of the Karnak and Luxor Temples were for, I answered, “Ego.” Haha!
Apparently it’s for sound! The priests used it as amplifiers for their chants so that their voices would resonate far and beyond the temples!
I stand corrected. Now I know that the columns are for sound… and ego. Haha! But shhh… don’t tell him.
The Book-Butterfly 