Egypt, I’m not quite sure how I feel about you.
You’re the land of ancient Pharoahs, Sphinxes and colossal pyramids, but you’re also the only country in the world (thus far) that has massively disappointed me.
You exude this vivacious character and behold this old-worldly charm and beauty, but you have a deep-rooted issue that needs to be addressed. I write this with an openness that asks you to listen attentively because this is a problem that is tarnishing your global reputation and impacting your tourism, but I also write with a respectful sensitivity because this can be rectified – if you choose to address it.
Egypt, I had heard so many uplifting stories about you in the lead up to our trip – stories about your culture, your landscapes and your warm hospitality. I was so excited to immerse myself into Egyptian life with the same curiosity and open-mindedness that I bring with me to all my adventures. Yet, I was so utterly frustrated by what my friends and I experienced. Unfortunately, despite loving the Dahab coast and the off-road exploration of Sinai, these are the handful of memories that overshadow the good times in Egypt:
- That rock that was hurled at our heads by heckling men, which narrowly missed us as we walked down the street in Giza
- The two young men that groped me while we went in search of a restaurant in Giza – but had to turn back.
- The harassment of the wolf-whistles and sexual remarks that were directed at us as we walked (fully clothed) along the beaches of Sharm El-Sheikh
- The eyeballing, ogling, cat-calling and cussing that we encountered in the Cairo market.
Unfortunately, these four events, across only a handful of days, are the ones that left the lasting impression of Egypt. Yet, I still have this niggling urge to come to your defence – to write down the justifications that I know I have voiced to friends who have asked about our trip:
“Maybe it was our fault for visiting at the wrong time – at the tail-end of your revolution”. But then I ask myself how I can excuse the harassment that we were subjected to.
“Maybe it was our fault for travelling as an all-female group”, but then I think about all the countries in the world that I have happily travelled to alone or with my female friends .
“Maybe we were dressed the wrong way?”, but then I anger myself because we covered ourselves from head-to-toe to respect the culture – and no matter how you dress, such harassment is never okay.
“Maybe we just had a run of bad luck?”, but then I read the shocking statistics on sexual harassment in Egypt; I read stories from expats living in the country; and I read the multiple news reports from inside the country and abroad. This wasn’t bad luck; the probability was in its favour.
Even as I write about this harassment we experienced, I feel some sense of uncomfortable anxiousness about pushing it out on a public platform. But, Egypt, if we don’t talk about it, how can you ever fix it? And you need to fix it.
Maybe one day, I will revisit you and rewrite this tainted travel story. Maybe one day, you’ll rectify the tainted experience for the female traveller.
Until then, I’ll cling on to the the mystical hearsay of what you were supposed to be and the edited version of my pyramid pictures that hide your third largest city and the intrusive concrete car park that you built in the backdrop.
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