Article Photos

"Obama number one," our taxi driver affirms in halting English as we careen through the traffic-choked streets of Cairo. Nodding in agreement we pray that we might actually survive another hazardous voyage into the chaos of this Egyptian metropolis.

Zig-zagging through six lanes of congested traffic on a road designed for three, in a dilapidated taxi, with a broken fare meter and non-existent a/c, choking on smog and searing 90-degree heat, we marvel at our driver's ability to calmly negotiate the insanity of driving in one of the largest cities in the world, home to 15 million people and roughly a million cars.

"Insha'Allah" - "God willing."

Nerves of steel, blaring horns and prayer seems to embolden those who brave driving in Cairo, where a road code of sorts entails ignoring all traffic lights, lane markings, speed limits, pedestrian crossings, one-way streets and even ambulances with sirens wailing.

As a consequence, almost every vehicle resembles a battered Maui cruiser, sporting scars and bruises, like demolition derby service badges, celebrating a vehicle's ability to survive the daily battle. And by some miracle no one seems unduly bothered or obviously stressed out.

After a couple of sorties out into this crazy dance we understand why the doormen at the Four Seasons Nile smile sheepishly on our return and give thanks that we actually made it back - alive - with all limbs intact.

And thus after a few days we savor even more the serenity of this opulent oasis. The incessant honking, traffic roar and suffocating heat drift far away as we ascend higher to the upper floors of our luxurious fortress.

You see even amidst such splendor, we are reminded that in this Middle Eastern land our elite, five-star home is a tempting target for terrorists.

Armed police ring the hotel, every vehicle is halted by a pole barrier and circled by bomb sniffing dogs, and every bag and person passes through airport-style metal detectors and X-ray machines.

So far, al-Qaeda seems more interested in attacking the Egyptian Red Sea resort of Sharm al-Sheikh than Cairo. As the top tourist destination in the Middle East, Egypt attracts around 9 million annually, and the security of its national treasures is a top priority.

From our lanai overlooking the Nile, the mysterious Pyramids of Giza beckon in the hazy distance.

For 4,000 years the Great Pyramid was the tallest building in the world. The only wonder of the ancient world still standing, it was constructed of 2,300,000 limestone blocks, each weighing roughly 2.5 tons.

Conventionally believed to be the funeral site of the Pharaoh Khufu, there's actually no evidence that he built the Great Pyramid, only that he oversaw repair work on the 13-acre structure.

When Barack Obama visited Cairo in June, he became the first president of any nation to enter the Great Pyramid. Absorbing the staggering view, he turned to Dr. Zahi Hawass, head of the Supreme Council of Antiquities, and said "I understand now why people say the pyramids were built by people from outer space," according to Egypt Air magazine.

Later in the same article, Hawass noted: "I mentioned (to President Obama) that many people believe that survivors from the lost continent of Atlantis had hidden knowledge in a secret chamber deep below the Sphinx."

Among the Pyramid's many mysteries, the extraordinary precision of its construction has baffled archaeologists. The entire structure was originally encased with approximately 115,000 highly polished, hard limestone stones, each weighing 10 tons or more. These stones were set together so closely that a thin razor blade can not be inserted in the joints.

Egyptologist Sir Flinders Petrie marveled: "Merely to place such stones in exact contact would be careful work, but to do so with cement in the joint seems almost impossible; it is to be compared to the finest opticians' work on the scale of acres." Arab historian Abd el Latif recorded in 1179 that these casing stones were covered with inscriptions of strange characters so numerous they could have filled "more than 10,000 written pages."

And measurements throughout the pyramid show that its builders knew of the proportions of pi, the Golden Mean, and Pythagorean triangles thousands of years before Pythagoras.

Entering the Great Pyramid is not for the fainthearted or claustrophobic. You initially have to bend down to access an extremely narrow, 129-foot- long and 4-foot-high tunnel, and then ascend steep, one-way stairs into the Grand Galley, squeezing by wheezing, perspiring, descending tourists, to then encounter an even smaller passage, and final access to - an empty room, save for a lidless granite coffer.

All this for an empty room you wonder?

Yes and no.

Delve into the metaphysical realms and "wisdom knowledge" suggests that this supposed tomb may actually serve as an initiatory vehicle, a powerful vortex, a transformational tool, an energy amplifier. Just spend a few minutes in meditation and you experience profound stillness.

Back on the Giza plateau, we engage in the fun game the locals play with tourists - how much can they rip them off while smiling politely and assuring, swearing on Allah, best deal possible, no problem.

And so after a baking-hot, 10-minute camel ride by the pyramids (which you later read in a guidebook should cost no more than $10), the extremely friendly camel owner cheerfully demands $100, and you explode and respond no way, and after much arguing and grumbling (including the driver brandishing a maybe forged $100 note to prove his point), we finally settle on an outrageous sum of $60, thus doing our bit to help keep Egypt's economy afloat.

Some camel owners are even known to extort more money from tourists by taking them too far into the desert for "excellent views of the pyramids," and demanding extra for the ride back.

Right at the Pyramid entrance, a wizened, official looking "ticket taker" hands us tiny plastic scarabs and pyramids as "gifts," and then demands baksheesh (the ubiquitous tip).

No wonder Lonely Planet's Egypt book cautions: "There are more con artists gathered in one spot (Giza) than anywhere else in the world." And: "Scams in Cairo are so numerous there's no way to list them all."

Thus Egypt lesson No. 1, never, ever enter a transaction without negotiating a price.

Walking around the bazaars you will typically encounter a friendly Cairene who just wants to help out while steering you to stores where he receives a commission.

And so we meet Abdullah, who assures, "I'm no Ali Baba, no baksheesh, I work at Mosque, I practice English," and leads us through a warren of densely packed stores to his "honest" spice-selling buddy, where somehow an initial $6 purchase mushrooms into a $50 sale, for spices and herbal concoctions that might total $20 on Maui.

And then it's on to another friend selling supposedly hand-crafted, mother-of-pearl inlaid boxes, who swears he sells us box for half the usual price because, "we're good people and it's Ramadan." The next day we discover an identical box 50 percent cheaper at the Egyptian Museum store.

Visiting during Ramadan provides a unique experience. It's the Islamic month of fasting, in which Muslims stop eating, drinking and smoking from dawn until dusk, to help cultivate patience, modesty and spirituality.

Consequently only restaurants specifically serving tourists open during the day, and it is considered impolite to eat, drink or smoke in public.

Before the sun rises, beginning at 4:30 a.m., the amplified wail of muezzins summoning Muslims to daily prayers echo from mosque minarets around the city. And later, as the sun dips, the declaration "Allahu Akbar" ("God is great") floats in the air, signaling time to break the fast.

In 2004, the Ministry for Religious Endowment proposed laying off hundreds of muezzins because the combined intensity of the early morning calls in Cairo had become so cacophonous. "There were no loudspeakers at the time of the Prophet," one resident complained. "Now, rather than being a joy, to listen to the call to prayer is a daily torture to the ears."

Every business, including luxury hotels, has to accommodate the faithful and their need to pray five times a day. "Employees will say, 'I have to go pray now,' and you accommodate that," a manager informs. Walking into the restaurant bathroom at the Four Seasons one afternoon, my girlfriend encounters a woman dutifully prostrating on her prayer rug. And it's not unusual to see Muslim Egyptian men with dark prayer bruises on their foreheads.

Inhabiting a world where daily prayer is so pronounced, where the spiritual dimension is honored, and where excessive alcohol consumption is rare, feels quite refreshing. Here in this ancient land where high magic once ruled and where sacred reflection still permeates daily life, we have much to learn.

* Maui Scene columnist Jon Woodhouse can be reached at jonwoodh@gmail.com.