Egypt
Kom Ombo
“There are no crocodiles in the Nile.” Mohammad’s hand and tone are firm as he helps me step from the felucca he plies along the Nile River's shallow channel.
The sun had set, casting the narrow, rocky path to palm-shaded Negoa Al Shatb's market square into deepening shadows. A crowd has gathered below the twin temples used for worshiping the Falcon and Crocodile Gods we are to visit.
A snake charmer, a descendant of Ancient Egypt's learned magicians and healers, thrusts a slithering cobra into our guide Aki's hands. Deftly, the charmer displays another serpent's length, while a third snake lazily warms itself in the light of a convenience store displaying Egyptian potato chips.
Mesmerized by the charmer's skill, I raise my camera. “Remember,” Aki warns, “you will need to pay the charmer for the potions and any photos you take. It's his livelihood.”
The charmer's eyes lock into mine, starting an ancient conversation. I nod, waving my camera and shaking my head as he approaches me with the outstretched, venomous snake. Raising his eyebrows, he nods to the small burlap sacks of potions that lay at his feet.
With another shake of my head, I decline the invitation. The cobra raises his eyes to mine, and I am thankful for the distance. Focusing my camera, I snap the picture. Fishing a US dollar out of my pocket, the silent conversation concludes.
I'm part of “Aki” Akram Allam's “Aki's Team Red”—twenty-nine travelers on a two-week Viking River Cruises’ “Pharaohs and Pyramids Tour.”Egypt River Cruises | Viking® River Cruises (vikingrivercruises.com) With his ever-present fedora, long, shaggy hair, and impeccable English, Aki has accomplished a first in my travels: turning neophytes from all walks of life into an engaged exploratory team. Traveling from the oldest stone structure on earth—the Pyramid at Saqqara—to the last—here at Kom Ombo—we have learned to interpret hieroglyphics and apply them in real-time to what we see.
For example, the Aish Baladi—the delicious flatbread cooked on Cairo's modern streets—appears in the proclamations etched on ancient walls. The ancestors of the vultures and ibis swooping over our boat as it approaches Aswan from Luxor appeared in a casual hieroglyphic exchange of ideas between a Pharaoh and his court.
Aki's most important lesson? There is nothing new under the sun.
Picking my way along the rocky, uneven path, I reflect on the temples I have toured, amazed that the explorers discovered them. The Sphinx was buried in Saharan sand up to its neck until rediscovered less than three hundred fifty years ago. The Coptic Christians, the Greeks, the Romans, Napoleon, and museums from all over the world used Egypt to modify and take from for personal gain. Luxor and Karnak find new roads and temples every day.
Much of Egypt's history involves a duality: Egyptian and Roman, Coptic Christian and Muslim. Upper and Lower Kingdoms. The preference for using the US dollar over the Egyptian pound.
And perhaps the most significant duality: Sand and Water. The Sahara and the Nile. If the Pacific is the ocean without memory, the Sahara is a desert whose mind sweeps continuously clean with each breeze. The Nile, winding through plateaus of grey-brown sand from Ethiopia and Lake Victoria in Sudan, is a murky emerald lifeline, remembering all and bringing proof.
Aki motions toward the steep steps, “They're uneven! Mind the crocodile pit covers!”
No crocodiles, Mohammed? Shaking my head, I see the temple is flood-lit above us, but the path, intermittently lit, is strewn with reddish-black rocks.
In a country known for the unusual, Kom Ombo’s Temples ranks as the most unusual for my money. First, the temples were for the worship of two gods, and secondly, they were the first Egyptian temples designed with Greek influences. Third, it was the only Egyptian temple dedicated to healing the Egyptian people.
While I'm here, I intend to settle a small wager.
Weeks before, over a meal of lamb and hummus at a neighborhood restaurant, my friend Alex expressed her continued ambivalence in finding out her baby's sex in advance. Dipping into the tasty, curried chickpea paste, she appeared to be giving her decision another thought. “I have been reading about your destinations,” she said, patting her stomach. “Did you know the Egyptians could determine by using ordinary objects like onions and honey if a patient had cancer or diabetes or if a warrior would die of his wounds?”
Am I being given permission? “And on a happier note,” I reply, “I have read that the Pharaohs could also accurately determine the baby's gender.”
Alex's smile was enigmatic as she took a bite of the gyro. “I'm curious about the use of ancient practices today and what you find.”
I snap back to where I am as I hear my name. Aki is talking about me. “Janet mentioned duality, so let's talk about Kom Ombo. You have heard of the two temples. They were built with the use of elephants as we are on the Gold and Spice Trade routes. Two entrances. Two colonnades. Look here.” Aki took his flashlight, outlining two squatting figures with suns above their heads. “The complex's northern section is dedicated to Horus—the falcon god—which you know was the god of justice and medicine. The Egyptians believed that Horus was a doctor. The southern section is dedicated to the god Sobek, the crocodile god who represented fertility.” We followed his eyes to where the tip of Mohammed's felucca bobbed in the water. With a smile, he shook his head. “And yes, the Nile had many crocodiles here. Many roamed in and around these temples.”
An unmistakable smile of mischief played on his lips as Aki crooked his index finger to us. “I have a surprise for you, an anomaly. Consider it to be one of a kind.”
Aki shined his light on a plate of sandstone as we crowded in. “Welcome to The First Egyptian Billboard. Patients could see what medical procedures were offered and schedule a time to be seen. The Egyptians, fastidious about cleanliness, shaved in preparation for surgery. Surgery was common—toothaches could abscess quickly in this heat, but the clinic also offered two birthing suites, and this is how women gave birth.” Two goddesses, squatting over buckets, dominated the left third of the panel. The remaining two-thirds showed surgical instruments and a large basin.
Shannon, an obstetrical nurse from Philadelphia, gave a low whistle of admiration. “And this was 2,500 years ago?”
Aki nodded. “The Temple shows scalpels, scissors, medicine bottles, and a washbasin. A place of healing, Kom Ombo was known for its extensive herb gardens and beekeeping. The temple priests grew emmon—a type of wheat, barley, and used onions and garlic as part of their medicine—a medical tradition practiced today.” Aki cocked his head towards the convenience store's yellowish light.
Time for me to settle the wager. Negoa Al Shatb's position on the Nile made it, in ancient times, the epicenter of the Nubian trade routes. Today, talk of a solar power grid dominates the conversation and makes it easy to communicate with the outside world.
I text Alex, thankful for the modern solar panels and the nine-hour time difference. “Get wheat seeds and barley seeds and pee on them.”
Wiping the swirling Saharan sand from my feet, I wait for her response. Seconds later, I read, “What?”
“C’mon, do it. Make your friend happy. We have a 70% chance of being right.” I text back.
Aki crooked his finger. “Now, here is part of the story the books do not tell you.”
Rounding the corner, we spied stacks of rounded stone boxes. Shannon whispered loudly, “If I didn't know better, I would say those are coffins, but the Egyptians didn't believe in that. Didn't they bury their dead the same day?”
Aki gave us a sly smile and cocked his head. Tipping his ever-present fedora toward the plaza, he said: “Follow me.” Taking his high beam flashlight, he pointed to a small square stone placed among the tiles. “We could not understand why those boxes were lying there. You are right, Shannon; the Egyptians bury their dead within the day. But,” wagging his finger at us, it was clear that we would clear up the mystery, “but what if you came from a long distance to get treatment? This stone advertises that they could get an insurance policy for the patient if the family wanted to. If the patient died, the policy paid for the casket to carry the dead back to the village and provided a small stipend to help the loved ones with their grief. A life insurance policy. The first one in the world, sitting in front of the first billboard in the world.”
As we walked back to the felucca, I paused to look at the snakes, now lazing in the charmers' basket. I pointed at the small bags at the charmer's feet, fishing out two dollars at him. He held up three fingers, but I shook my head, looking toward my companions boarding the felucca. Bowing to me, he placed the purple burlap bag in my outstretched hand.
The potion's dual purpose and that there truly isn’t anything new under the sun isn't lost on me. Maybe it was to ensure good luck on my wager with Alex. Maybe it was to support the charmer. Or maybe, just maybe, the potion bag ensured good health and a good journey to the recipient.
Two days later, as I boarded the Egyptian Air flight from Aswan to Cairo, a text appeared from Alex with two pictures with identical arrows pointing toward the sex of the babies. Duality.
Dedicated to the memory of Dr. “Aki” Akram Allam.