I thought to myself, “I knew this was a bad idea”. I was stuck on top of a camel. Even after two weeks in this scandalous country, I had managed to fall into another obvious scam. A young boy had approached me at the base of the Great Pyramid in Giza, had sweet-talked me into climbing onto his camel for a picture. It seemed harmless enough, camels are pretty docile. I was not obligated to pay for a ride, just a quick snapshot and I would hop down, right? Wrong.
As soon as I positioned my bottom in the cloth saddle, the boy issued a command to the camel in a secret language that only the two understand. The blasted thing stood up. My feet dangled on each of its hairy sides, a desperate four feet from the ground. There was no graceful way to dismount or jump off, we all three knew that. So there I sat, with the boy standing on the ground a few feet away from me, holding my camera, showing me his yellow teeth like a before-picture in an electric toothbrush commercial.
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Ten minutes later, I was still on top of the infernal beast. Both of us were having a sweat marathon in the Egyptian sun, but there was no doubt his hump would win out over my beer-gut for hydration reserves. The boy refused to let me down until I committed to an expensive ride, or offered the equivalent in a bribe, known all over Egypt as baksheesh. I asked him to at least take my picture like he had promised. He agreed. So I held the reins with as much dignity as I could muster, turned my head sideways to look at the camera. I did my best to hide my rising blood pressure, to look like I was having fun. I mean, after all, I was at the base of the Great Pyramid, on top of a camel in Egypt!
Every inch of the walls were covered in colorful hieroglyphics and told a fascinating story. Call me the world’s worst backpacker, but there was no way I was bringing a camera in here without getting a picture. I made sure my flash was off, I started snapping sneaky shots of everything that I could. My buddy had the same idea with his SLR. Within minutes we had an angry Egyptian official standing in front of us and demanding our cameras. Busted!
I decided to take a gamble based on everything I had learned in this country. I said, “Baksheesh?” I said it in the form of a question. It worked. The man’s scowl was instantly replaced with a smile, we traded a few dirty Egyptian bills for our precious cameras. Baksheesh is not treated as something corrupt, it is more or less just a daily business transaction for these guys.
Then the man caught me off guard. I had assumed we would have to leave the tomb immediately, that we were officially on thin ice. Not quite.
“Anything else you want picture?” he asked me in broken English. He pointed around the tomb at various places of interest. Then it hit me. He wanted to make sure we got all the pictures we wanted! Now that is service. I chuckled a little under my breath as another wisp of smoke escaped my nostril!
I decided if there was ever a time to press my luck in Egypt, it was now. I pointed to the official who had confiscated our cameras. He gave me a flabbergasted look. Now I know it was a look of flattery, not disgust. He smiled, threw his arms around my two Swedish friends and posed for the ultimate picture which I proudly took. Who else can say they have a picture inside a tomb, surrounded by ancient Egyptian art, standing next to the person who gets paid to make sure no pictures are taken of that same art?
After one month of wandering around Egypt, in and out of trouble, I learned to survive. Always keep cigarettes, a pocketful of baksheesh money, beware of camels and mysterious shisha and keep your cool. People are people all over the world. A smile is the ancient secret to getting out of any predicament.
