DisnEgypt

The title of this article is the first neologism that comes to mind when attempting to describe Luxor, Egypt's capital. The city is the illegitimate son of DisneyWorld and Egypt, and is completely devoid of cultural integrity. Every guest staying at our hotel seemed to fit comfortably within the less favorable of the two categories into which Tom Reed Jr. divides all people: Those who would choose to vacation in Las Vegas. There is, however a silver lining to Luxor, the smoggy cloud that stubbornly inhibits the ancient Sun-god's rays: our communal disappointment brought us together in a way that Cairo never could have. You see, Cairo is a sprawling city with cultural opportunities aplenty. And every unique student, when confronted with such a vast array of options, inevitably chooses one for himself, distinct and separate from those of his classmates. By contrast, in Luxor we had to find entertainment in each other. Thus the birth of 'Habibi', Brandon Walker's alter-ego Egyptian news personality whose all-to-infrequent updates informed us of where exactly we were, and what exactly we were doing. Luxor also allowed us the time and energy to get to know our trip assistants Brennan and Housam.

On our one, truly successful day in Luxor a group of us hiked into the Sahara desert. The Nile cuts a ravine through the desert, in which Cairo and Luxor are situated, so the hike to the Sahara was, kind of counterintuitively, a steep climb. The peak we reached overlooked the Valley of the Kings, a series of tombs that, at one point in time, held the sarcophogi of the New Kingdom Pharoahs of Egypt.

In the background of this picture, taken from aboard a

boat on the nile, you can see the two summits we reached.

After our descent we walked back to Luxor, a trek that would have felt much shorter had we not been solicited by a series of obnoxiously persistent Taxi drivers.

We were welcomed back to Cairo today by the provost and once President of AUC Tim Sulivan, who was keen enough to acknowledge the folly of standing between students and their lunch, but not enough to avoid committing it. However the meal, like almost every meal we've had thus far, was certainly worth the wait.

Back at the hostel Dan Curme, Erik Nyberg and I played a competitive game of Egyptian-rules soccer against three apparent employees of the University. I say 'apparent' because I have yet to see them do anything that seems to benefit the school, but in their defense this can be said of most employee-employer relationships here in Egypt. Despite our teams aggregate age being no more than one third that of our opponents, we lost. But I attribute our failure to the language in which the rules were defined.

Happy Birthday Dad!