Roman & Egyptian Holiday

Tadaima Tokyo, I'm back after almost 30 hours in transit (Dahab - Sharm El Sheikh - Cairo - Rome - Narita - Tokyo), during most of which I've been awake. Back to the sterile bubble of life that Tokyo is - I missed it, and I didn't. Living in Tokyo is so safe, so clean, so sterile, so orderly, so organized, so civilized, that it turns me into a total travel wimp, every single time I travel after even a short period back in Tokyo. I remember being shell-shocked my first night in Bali by the dirt, trash and ghettoness of Kuta. And my reaction upon arriving in Rome for my 2.5 day layover was similar: the rudeness, the grit and grime, the disgusting public bathrooms, having to keep my wits about me to not get pickpocketed - these things seemed foreign to me. I suppose Rome was a good stepping stone before arriving in Cairo, which is as polar opposite from Tokyo as you can get. In any case, living in Tokyo and traveling outside Tokyo makes me realize that there is really no place in the world like Tokyo. It is a complete anomaly, city life in a bubble. When I leave Tokyo, I miss the clean public bathrooms, the civilized manner by which people generally stand in line and wait their turn, Tokyoites' neverending politeness, the clean fresh air, the policy of no tipping ever, not having to worry about haggling for a fair taxi price, etc. But when I return to Tokyo, I realize that all this orderliness and pleasantness comes at a price - the subtle yet insistent repression of the collective, without which you would not be able to have the insane degree of orderliness and politeness instilled in the Japanese people. It makes me glad I am not Japanese (and thus not subject to all their "rules"), but thankful that I'm getting to experience life in Tokyo because I think it's truly the most socially unique city in the world, for better or for worse.

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Egypt. What can I say about that ancient yet modern, chaotic yet awe-inspiring country? Fortunately for El Hombre and me, we (without meaning to) planned our vacation to go from chaotic, to less chaotic to utterly tranquil. Cairo, not unlike Mumbai, assaults all of your senses. The air is permanently hazy and thick from pollution, gas emissions and dust. Taxi cabs honk to tell other cars and pedestrians to get out of their way. Taxi drivers in Cairo are the most insane drivers on the face of the planet - I don't know how many times my heart almost stopped because I thought we were going to have a head-on collision with another car or get wedged between two cars or hit a pedestrian or get hit as a pedestrian. The smells of trash, Middle Eastern spices, lamb cooking on revolving gyro spits and body odor permeate the air. People cross the street anywhere and everywhere by stepping on to the street and hoping the crazy drivers won't hit them. It is a metropolis, but with a decidedly third world feel. If you walk anywhere, you get approached (harassed?) by taxi drivers or touts asking where you are going, do you need a taxi, do you need a tour, look in my store, where you from?

Basically, you go to Egypt to see the sites, not to relax. But THEN: there are the resorts on the Red Sea. When we arrived in Sharm El Sheikh after four days in Cairo and Luxor, it seemed like a completely different world. It was so quiet and empty and vast. The air was so clean (you could actually see the stars! In Cairo, you can barely see 20 feet in front of you, the cloud of dust/pollution is so thick). Our driver drove into a dark black expanse of nothingness - there weren't even streetlights to guide the road. All we saw around us as we headed from Sharm El Sheikh to Dahab was vast nothingness, and big looming rock formations, unlike most mountains I've seen in the US or Asia because they are all rock with no vegetation whatsoever. Then there were the security checkpoints - I fell asleep for half the ride so am not sure exactly how many there were, but I was awake for at least 3 of them: slightly intimidating and frightening because 6 or 7 armed guards with machine guns stop the car, give the occupants of the car a look-over and decide whether you look like a terrorist or not (the Sharm El Sheikh coast was the site of bombings in 2004 and 2006) before removing the roadblock to let you through. But then you arrive at your resort and within the gates of the resort, you forget that you are in the same country of which Cairo is the capital because within those gates is a pampered paradise where your biggest concerns are whether you should lounge by the beach or one of the pools, whether you should have a salad or burger for lunch, whether you should take a shower inside or outside. Our resort was simply one of the nicest places I've ever stayed and if you are a windsurfer or a diver, "Sharm" is paradise. If it wasn't such a trek to get there, I'd love to go back to one of the resorts on the Red Sea (either in Sharm or Hurghada) to get my fill of watersports (although they really need to do something about the food).

In Egypt, you hear a lot of the following:

"You need taxi? Where you going? Taxi? Taxi?"
"Look in my store! Everything is free!"
"Special price for you"
"Where you from?"
"You are Egyptian?" (I never got this, but I think El Hombre got asked this at least a few times. I think it's because of his nose, which has a Roman bump)

But the number one thing you will hear, about 1000 times a day: "Tip? Tip?" Egyptians want tip for EVERYTHING. If they take a picture for you, tip. If they tell you where you can take a good picture, tip. If they give you directions, tip. Upon arriving at the airport, a random guy just took our bags while we were paying our driver, and rolled them literally about 20 feet from the curb to the door (despite my yelling out after him "Excuse me, where are you taking our bags, we don't need your help!"), then put his hand out for a tip. We gave him a few Egyptian pounds and he had the gall to say: "this is too little." And the security line handlers at the airport - the guys whose job it is to help you put your luggage through the x-ray machine - after dropping your bag on the conveyer belt, put their hands in front of your face (not my face, but El Hombre's, since he is the man and therefore must have all the money) and rub their fingers together, a silent request for tip. I was so annoyed at this point (this was our last day in Egypt) that I said: "no, we don't have any money, you are doing your JOB," after which the guy clicked his tongue at me and waved me away (and cursed me, although maybe I imagined this last part).

***

The most surprising thing about Rome was that...Italian food in Rome doesn't taste very good. I didn't have a single "great" meal in Rome, unless you count the endless cappuccinos I drank at the stand-up bars. The pasta, the pizza, the pastries, even the gelato - each time, I thought: hmm, I've had better in Bali and/or Tokyo. I suppose Rome, among Italian cities, is not really known for its gastronomy. Traditional Roman food is offal - the intestines, innards, guts. Since I generally don't eat offal (with the exception of liver and occasionally, sweetbreads), I tried to sample everything else recommended by the NY Times and various guidebooks and was generally not that impressed. Gelato at San Crispino? Eh, I've definitely had better gelato/ice cream in the bay area and Tokyo. Homemade pasta at a family run restaurant on one of Rome's many piazzas? Eh, doesn't come close to the pasta I had at Ultimo in Bali. Capricciosa pizza at a joint packed with locals? Decent, but I really expected Italian food in Italy to blow me away. Perhaps if I had gone to the unanimous "best restaurant in Rome" - Pergola - I would have been blown away. But honestly I thought I'd find great Italian food in Italy without having to spend 200 euros on a meal. What redeemed Rome, gastronomically, was the coffee. Those tiny, delicious cups of cappuccino with a thick foam of milk atop a rich, creamy espresso...I couldn't get enough.

My two main takeaways from my visit to Rome: 1) Ancient Romans were brutes and 2) people think that the divide between Islam and Christianity is bad, but the real enemy of Christianity for centuries were the Catholics! It's so interesting that today, Christians and Catholics (sort of) see themselves as the same - yet Rome still holds the structures where Catholics tortured and killed Christians for their faith. Two additional new facts I learned: 1) Peter (who denied knowing Jesus before he was crucified) was later crucified upside down - he came to Rome to preach the gospel of Christ but was crucified by the Romans. He asked to be crucified upside down because he felt that he didn't deserve to die the same way as Jesus; 2) Jesus once said to Peter that "upon this rock (meaning Peter), I will build my church" - St. Peter's Basilica, the world's biggest church, is built on top of Peter's tomb.

***

After living in Tokyo, where as a non-Japanese woman, I feel invisible 99.9% of the time, Rome was a flattering reprieve. Men are constantly calling you "bella" and "bellissima," go out of their way to help you, open doors, smile and generally shower you with attention. In Tokyo men never ever EVER open the door for you or even wait for women to enter/exit first - chivalry is a totally non-existent word in Tokyo.

Despite the great coffee and male attention, Rome, at least to me, is one of those places you visit once because it is home to some amazing historical and architectural sites: the Colosseum, St. Peter's Basilica, the Sistine Chapel. But I don't think I ever need to go back - I didn't fall in love with Rome the way I fell head over heels for Barcelona, it lacks the lovely romance that Paris possesses, it's not as urbane and thriving as London...of all the "great" European cities I've been to so far, Rome least captured my heart.

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These days when I travel, the oft-asked question from locals "where are you from" stumps me a little bit. Locals always want to know where you are from. But where am I from? Do I say the US, since it's my permanent home, where I was born and grew up most of my life? (but then people will ask, where are you really from?) Do I say Korea, motherland of my parents? (but technically, I'm not from Korea. If they asked me "what are you?" or "what is your ethnicity?", "Korean" would be an appropriate answer, but semantically, I am not "from" Korea). Or do I say Japan, where I live currently and from where I arrived to their country? (but then they usually assume I am Japanese). Do I make the effort of explaining that "well, my parents are Korean but I was born and raised in the US but currently live in Japan?" (but that seems like a lot of detail to give a complete stranger who is likely looking for an easy category to drop you in). More often than not, the first answer that comes to mind is: "I'm from San Francisco."