Egypt, its People and Culture

Last month, I wrote about my recent return to Egypt, focusing on the history, which is everywhere and impossible to ignore. This month, I wanted to step away from temples and tombs, and look more closely at the people, the culture, and the weight of living in one of the world’s oldest civilizations.

It struck me that it has been exactly forty years since my first visit to this North African country. Back then, Egypt’s population hovered around 38 million, and much of the infrastructure was still in its early stages. This time, I learned the country is home to more than 110 million people, with over 20 million packed into Cairo alone. That single statistic explains a great deal of what you see on the ground.

Egypt is one of those places that, no matter how many photographs you have seen or documentaries you have watched, feels entirely different when you are there. My visit was a mix of the iconic and the intimate. Yes, the ancient sites impress in ways words struggle to capture, but what stayed with me most were the everyday moments: wandering through older Cairo neighbourhoods, chatting with locals, and observing the rhythm of daily life.

Egyptian culture has a way of wrapping itself around you. It is in the music drifting from a café, the smell of spices hanging in a market, and the easy curiosity of people who seem genuinely pleased you are there. One moment you are standing in front of a temple that predates recorded history, and the next you are discussing desserts with a vendor. For the record, basbousa is sweet, syrupy, and dangerously addictive.

The strain of population growth is impossible to miss. Infrastructure is struggling to keep up. Rules exist, but adherence is optional. Major roads are marked with three lanes, yet traffic routinely flows five or six vehicles wide. Motorcycles zigzag without warning, and pedestrians cross roads in what can only be described as calculated sprints. I attempted to cross a busy street once, only to have my guide take my hand and escort me across, laughing afterward. He told me he could never live in Canada. “Too many rules,” he said.

Speed limits appear to be a suggestion rather than a law. Driving at 140 kilometres an hour outside the cities is common. Add to that the abundant tuk-tuks; small, three-seat vehicles that do not require licences, and it is not unusual to see children barely in their teens behind the wheel. Throw in donkey carts and horse-drawn wagons, and the transportation system begins to rival parts of India for sheer unpredictability.

Despite this, I found the people consistently friendly. Vendors can be persistent, as they are in many developing countries, but rarely disrespectful. The hotels were impressive, with excellent restaurants and frequent entertainment, that provided a welcome retreat at the end of long days.

I chose not to take a Nile cruise. I have never been on a cruise ship, and I saw no reason to start now. The cruising stretch between Luxor and Aswan runs about 200 kilometres. Cruise ships take four nights to complete it, stopping at several temples along the way. At any given time, more than 300 cruise ships occupy that stretch of river, often docking six or seven abreast.

November brought daytime temperatures around 30 degrees, one of the cooler periods of the year. The dry heat, long days, and an average of 14,000 steps daily made me appreciate the simple luxury of cold bottled water.

One disheartening sight was the amount of litter, found in many areas. Recycling was not evident, and garbage is often dropped where it falls. Housing shortages have led the government to build a ‘New Cairo’ on the city’s outskirts, but many residents are reluctant to move, and supporting infrastructure is slow to follow.

Whenever I travel, I remind myself that visiting another country means experiencing life as it is lived there. I never compare cultures to our own. That could lead to disappointment.

Egypt is a place of striking contrasts, where ancient traditions and modern life coexist in fascinating opposites. It was an adventure I will remember, and cherish for the rest of my life.