Karnak temple, a few miles across from the Luxor Temple, connected by that sphinx-lined road that is now being reconstructed, is one of the oldest and largest temples of ancient Egypt, which is saying something. It's a sprawling elegant behemouth,first described by Diodorus of Sicily (whose name comes up a lot in Egyptian historiography). The Greeks called it Hermonthis.

It was January 1 and Jud and I wanted to do different things. He went to the Luxor Museum (not the Temple) and I went to Karnak, getting a taxi from our hostel and then picking up a guide once I got my ticket. My guide was Aladden, which seemed so fitting, because his magic lantern for me was his knowledge and reverence for the site. He had a quiet demeanor, and a generous view of the Temple built for the god Amon and his wife, the goddess Mut, often symbolically portrayed in the form of a vulture (I don't know why, but it may not have the rather negative connotations we associate with it).

Older than the Luxor temple, it astounds with beautiful columns in many styles, statues, the sphinx-lined avenue, a sacred lake, obelisks, and intricate carvings. A successive line of Pharoahs added halls and chapels to the original temple, as happened at the Luxor temple. The influence of trade with Ethiopia is reflected in what's called the "Ethiopian Courtyard," where extraordinary columns, carvings and hieroglypics tell the story of this interesting connection.

Noted for its "stylistic complexity," one guide said the Karnak Temple could serve as a base to study the evolution of architecture and art from the XVIII Dynasty to the end of the Ramses era. Part of this temple was also a Christian church at one time, much later of course.

For Aladdin, a sacred site at Karnak was the base and sculpture of a gigantic granite scarab, a symbol of eternal life, dedicated to the god Knepr by Amon-Ofis. Aladdin positioned me in front of the scarab and took a photo. "It is special to have this photo," he told me. Yes, and actually it was special to spend time with Aladdin among this sprawling Temple to the gods and goddesses of the great Egyptian past.

The Magnificent Luxor Temple

I thought I had seen the ultimate in the 5000-year history of Egypt at the Egyptian Museum in Cairo, but that was before I toured The Luxor Temple. I have seldom in my life been so entranced and fascinated by a museum, really an outdoor archaeological site still being excavated and reconstructed, still evolving and rebirthing, stone by stone, hieroglyphic by hieroglyphic, column by column, statue by statue, bas relief by bas relief, piece by piece. It is magnificent, this temple built to honor Amon-Ra, king of the gods of ancient Eqypt. It is among the most amazing sites I have ever seen. I went twice, once during the day, and again in the evening, when the temple is lit up and looks golden and magical (photos above). Day or night, it is a majestic monument.

Pharoah Amon-Ofis II started the temple in the 14th century BC. King Tut added to it, and Ramses II finished it. A long processional avenue flanked by sphinxes with rams' heads since replaced with human heads connects the Luxor Temple and that of Karnak, about 3 miles away. This avenue of the gods is also under reconstruction, like much of the Temple itself. So is the temple at Karnak, another amazing site. It's extraordinary.

Luxor is the ancient city of Thebes, celebrated in Homer's Iliad (8th century BC) and by scholars thereafter up to the present. Thebes evolved into Luxor overtime, way before the Christian era, as ancient dynasties and kingdoms competed for power and riches. Today the temple is all that remains of the legendary Thebes.

The entrance features an elegant obelisk, which at one time had a twin but it is now in the city of Paris (on the Place de Concorde), and colossal statues of Ramses. Of the four statues of Queen Nefertari and her daughter that were created, in pink marble, only one remains, and it's in bad shape. No matter. The ideas and spirit remain. Multi-columned courtyards, rows upon rows of closed and open papyrus-crowned columns, like forests, statues of Osiris, and of kings, queens and warriors, and a constant stream of carved images and hieroglyphics on every wall, ceiling and column, tell the stories of those times, of the pharoahs, the priests and the gods, of creation and the journey to the afterlife (so rich in symbolism and so significant to the pharoahs), of wars and triumphs.

The colors have faded, but every once in a while you catch a glimpse of blue, red and gold, and can imagine what the Amon-Ra Temple must have looked like in full resplendent color. As it is, the splendor of the Temple awes and delights. I think of all the incredible monuments built to the gods by the pharaohs, the Luxor Temple is my favorite!

Greeting the New Year in the Luxor Desert

January 1, 2011, Luxor, Egypt, in the desert (Jud, moonscapes, a sunset, the fire with our waterpipes). The sky brilliant with stars (Wikipedia photo, but it was this beautiful).Kolysena winta-tayeeb, a rough transliteration of the Arabic for Happy New Year!

I greeted the first day of the New Year with a memorable dinner and stargazing evening in the Egyptian desert. It was incredible, fantastic. A Belgium couple now living in Luxor organizes these special tours, and they are beyond belief. After driving away from the city and into the open desert, the lights of humanity fading behind us, we arrived at our site, a barren-looking stony brown landscape of hills in every direction, the only patch of green a thin line along the horizon closer to the Nile River.

We began our new year’s adventure with a hike up the rocky desert moonscape that used to be a body of water, up to the tops of hills, to watch a stunning sunset. Stunning! We took our time, small groups of people, wandering apart, then together, then apart, dancing in different configurations, looking like Martians exploring a new planet against the setting sun. I couldn’t capture the essence of it in words, or in photos. How do you capture a mirage?

After the sun descended slowly into the desert, leaving behind an orange-red glow, we meandered back to tables beautifully set and glowing in candelight to share an authentic Egyptian dinner that was a gastronomical feast. It was an astronomical feast, too. We ate in the open air, the heavens for our roof, with a group of interesting people from around the world as the stars popped out one by one by one. I sat with a couple from England, Jane and Edward, who travel the world with their three sons, now ages 14, 10 and 8. I talked a bit with two beautifully dressed young women from South Africa. A thoughtful Frenchman, his lovely 9-year-old daughter Moon in hand, waxed philosophical about the meaning of life, the universality of humankind, the limits of religious beliefs. The night sky was brilliant, colorful, sparkling, clear. No moon. Ingrid, our leader and astronomer, green lazer beam in hand, led us through the mysteries and vastness and endless variations of the heavens, billions of stars, millions of light years away, the constellations, the planets.

She and her husband, with the help of experienced Arab helpers, set up two huge telescopes and we all took turns viewing various wonders: Andromeda, the pleidies, the North star and nearby star clusters, Jupiter, a favorite planet after Venus (Saturn won’t be visible for about 6 months, Ingrid said), and betelgeuse in the constellation Orion, my favorite star this night because it looked like an effervescent ruby through the powerful telescope. It was utterly thrilling. Loren would have loved every minute of it. It was his night. I wanted to believe I felt his presence, soaring among the stars and the planets, his every curiosity and hope fulfilled.

We then went back to the tables for dessert, more tea, and the hookahs, the waterpipes (these with apple-flavored water) that you breath into, blow bubbles, and relax. The ever-attentive Egyptian helpers met our every need. These Renaissance men prepared a fantastic dinner, the best we’ve had in Egypt. They brought water and tea. They showered us with Egyptian hospitality. And as the night grew chilly in the desert air, they built a wonderful fire for us. We all gathered round in gratitude, enjoying the richness and beauty of the moment, the joys and wonders of Egypt.

What a fantastic way to begin a new year! The heavens and the earth conjoined. One of the best New Year’s days I can remember. The memories and images will take me to the ends of the earth on my journey through time, to the great beyond. Kolysena winta-tyeeb.

The Egyptian Museum

The exterior of the Egyptian Museum is beautiful. We couldn't take any photos inside, so here are a few flikr photos, including King Tut's elegant gold mask, from the Egyptian Museum.
The Egyptian Museum is a journey back through 5000 years of history, a vast warehouse of artifacts from ancient times.The building itself is beautiful, rosy, elegant, and finely detailed. We could see it from the windows of our hostel. Large high-ceilinged rooms hold tons upon tons of items excavated from the sands of time by fascinated scientists and archaeologists going back at least to Grecian times and up to the present. Egypt is, obviously, an archaeologist’s dream.

I've never seen so many mummies’ coffins or sarcophaguses in one place anywhere, room after room after room. The designs and colors and decorative paintings are as varied as any artist’s palette and inspiration, and they fascinate. Hiereoglypics, symbols, and images of ancient Egypt. Some look as bright as the day they were painted over 3000 years ago; some are faded into antique pastels, a muted but persistent glory.

The jewelry is beautiful, too, gold, precious stones, and bead work in amazing detail, supreme craftsmanship, and abundant. Bejeweled Egyptian queens must have dazzled their pharoahs.

There was no end to the splendors. I spent two hours in the galleries featuring items from King Tut's tomb, and I didn’t come close to seeing it all. I've never seen so many little carved animals, statuettes, art work, finely crafted furniture, gilded gold chairs with ornate carvings fit for the young king who occupied them. How could a tomb hold so many things? It must have been like the Grand Bazaar of Egypt in a mausoleum: so extravagant a setting for a dead king that could never enjoy his grand furnishings as much as we do today!

The Museum sometimes seemed more like a storage area than a museum. I would have liked more information, more explanation of what I was seeing. Perhaps some information sheets or brochures at the entrances to the various exhibits. I think there's been some improvement in how the items are displayed and the Museum continues to refine its exhibits.

One thing the Museum has mastered: it has a fantastic gift shop. It was nice to come upon it at the end of the visit, along with a nice café and a good cup of coffee. I bought lots of little gifts for family and friends, delighted that every item in the shop had a price tag. That alone warranted a grand shopping spree.

When we started out in the morning Jud and I thought we'd make it to the Coptic museum this day, too, but after several hours we hadn't even begun to cover the Egyptian Museum. Jud stayed to sketch, and I went back to the hostel to reflect and write.

An overwhelming melange of images came to my mind as I stopped to think about how to describe the experience. Sometimes words fail me. Then again, Jud and I both went through the same museum and saw most of the same things, and yet when we talked about it at dinner (at a great Egyptian restaurant) his experience and mine were very different.

Travel adventures are, in this sense, subjective and personal. They are memories made by what you see, and how what you saw made you feel. Memories mixed with emotions, reality with imagination, experience with dreams. The Egyptian Museum encompasses all of these, a magic carpet ride back in time to the kingdoms of the great pharoahs of Egypt.

Cairo and the Pyramids

Surreal reality: The Pyramids at Gize, guarded by The Great Sphinx. We stood in awe with other tourists marveling at the history, grandeur and largeness of the pyramids. Ancient and spiritual. Below, at Sakkarah, down the dusty road of palms and fields.  I like these memory photos, taken with my trusty photo point and shoot Canon.

Cairo. Mindboggling and mindbending. Ancient city, modern megalopolis. Incredibly crowded, hectic, some 20 million people, most selling something and insisting you buy from them (or so it seems), along with millions of cars racing in and out of lanes that don't exist, horns blaring constantly for no reason except to say "make way."

Gridlock is the order of the day on the road, and we get a good taste of it right off the bat when we taxied to the pyramids in the morning. It's even worse later in the day when we try to get to a park and restaurant, visions of the setting sun in the desert against darkening palms filling our heads. But no beautiful sunset that day! We got no further than a few blocks after more than an hour of creeping and honking; night fell, and we decided to get out (yes, in the middle of traffic) and take our chances. We were in downtown Cairo, ablaze with shops, restaurants and street vendors, and not far from our hostel, Egyptian Nights, which is right across the street from the Egyptian Museum. Well "right across the street" is not exactly the right image, because we're talking about an 8-lane highway, two-way traffic, barricades on both sides of the street, with no place to cross safely. You can do like the Egyptians do, which is close your eyes and step out into the traffic, or you can wait a long time and hope for a bit of a break in the flow of traffic, but not much.

We also learn quickly that there is no "prix fixe" menu for anything you want or need: pretty much everything is open for negotiation (Jud calls it "haggling"). This includes cab rides, tickets, getting to the pyramids, getting around the pyramids, getting next to the pyramids, and touching the pyramids. Also taking photos of turbaned men on colorfully decorated camels against the backdrop of the pyramids, for that sense of desert mirage and authenticity. Mindboggling.

Enshrouded in a purple- brown haze, Cairo is the desert, and even now, at the end of December, it's hot. Heat radiates down from the sun onto the sand, over the Nile, and up from the ground and the river. On our first day haze and smog cover the city, and an overcoat of brown velvet covers the trees, palms, bushes, and bougainvilla. I hardly recognized the bougainvilla in its brown dusting. The sun is as intense as the crowds, the traffic, and the culture of bargaining.

You cannot ask for anything, even the address of a restaurant, without being haggled, from the front desk of your hostel to the streets. Sometimes, well often, the haggling and "buy this" are annoying but sometimes it actually turns out okay. Like on our way home last night when we asked directions and a tall, handsome and friendly Egyptian said he was going that way and would walk us to our hostel, but stopped first at his "family perfume shop" along the way, and introduced us to Abdullah. Jud kind of rolled his eyes; I wondered, too, but we went with the flow, accepted some tea, and were treated to being adorned with beautiful scents. Our articulate accompaniest disappeared (no doubt to collect more customers), but Abdullah settled us in, and gently rubbed the scents on my wrists, my arms, my shoulder. It was lovely, and I happily ended up buying one of my favorites, the scent of Philosophe cologne from France, introduced to me several years ago by my niece Kaaren in Amsterdam. Ever doubtful after a day of "haggling," even Jud succumbed to the touch and the scents, and bought a richly textured cologne.

A nice way, you could even say "a very Egyptian way," to end a glorious day that began with a magnificent visit to the Pyramids of Gize(or Gizeh or Giza).

Oh my, the pyramids! Awesome! Simply awesome. More awesome to see than to imagine. The ancestry and the lineage, the sheer size and symmetry, the grandeur and mystery and symbolism. As awesome as when Heroditus of Greece first saw and described them.

The three pyramids of Gize outside of Cairo are among the biggest in the world, and the oldest, built around 2580 BCE. They include the tombs of Cheops (the largest), Chephren and Micerinus, pharoahs who lived like gods, and were believed to be god-kings. They spared no expense in building their tombs and in ornamenting and furnishing them, something amazingly confirmed on our visit the next day to the fantastic Egyptian Museum (more on that in another blog).

The pharoahs depended on the labor of thousands of slaves, who died at the rate of 8-10 a day sometimes, from exhaustion, overwork, the heat. Some scholars think these mammouth triangles reflect Egyptians' belief in the origins of life and pay homage to Re, the sun god and source of life. It's ironic, to a modern visitor, that these monuments to life forces caused the death of so many.

Yet they stand the test of time, as physical tombstones, perhaps because the great Sphinx is still guarding them. The Sphinx, an ancient monument itself, was carved from the bedrock of the Gize plateau. It has the body of a lion, with the head of a king, or a god, and it still symbolizes the strength and grandeur of ancient Egypt. It's been buried in sand, uncovered, recovered, and somewhat battered, but no one questions its stately purpose to this day.

The pyramids at Gize look like they are built from thousands of bricks, but up close you see they are made of humongous layered blocks of limestone and granite, some weighing over 2.5 tons according to scholars. Imagine carrying them from the Nile to the site, and hauling them one on top of the other, in perfect synchronicity, up to a fine point touching the sky. The gigantic blocks of granite and limestone were then covered in alabaster, now mostly stripped off, both by the forces of nature over the years, and also by the people who built the mosques of Cairo. Alabaster: white, smooth marble, strong and elegant. I imagine how the pyramids must have looked then, gleaming in brilliant white in the desert sun against a clear blue sky or against a starry black night sky.

To this day, the Pyramids fascinate and entice you. I couldn't believe I was actually seeing them with my own eyes! I am still dazzled. No matter the crowds, the sights of camels and horses and little horse-drawn carriages, the thousands of people exclaiming and taking photos, the equal number of people offering their services as guides. It seemed like a dream to be in the presence of the Pyramids of Gize.

While in this kind of shock of belief we picked up AD, or rather he picked us up, and served as our calm and knowledgeable guide as we strolled the grounds together for a few hours. He was a supreme publicist and PR man, making us feel comfortable, being helpful. He eventually convinced us to try a horse and buggy, perhaps aware of our aging resources, as it were, but he said it was for the purpose of getting even closer to the pyramids. Now Jud and I think the main reason was to help a friend, but we did get closer to the pyramids..

We also went to the necropolis, the funeral grounds, at Sakkarah, which is supposedly even larger and more important, representing several dynasties of ancient Egypt. We were a bit wiped out, after a day of travel, then being immersed in Cairo, then seeing the first pyramids,

so we didn't get close, but accepted our taxi driver's advice to drive around the grounds. In some ways the sense of time passing was even more evident here. The huge "step pyramid" of the pharoah Zoser was magnificent and grand, but looked more fragile, the stone crumbling in places from the elements of nature and time. We didn't stay long, just long enough to reinforce a sense of antiquity and grandiose hopes for eternity. A nearby palm forest swayed in the breeze, farmers tended fields, daily life went on, but the pyramids were immovable against the hazy gauze of a slowly setting sun filtering its rays around the sacred site. I fell asleep on the way back to the hostel, the blare of horns and the weaving of the cab receding into a pastel dream.

But while in the presence of the pyramids, a forceful magnetic energy engulfed me, the energy of ancient times and beliefs, the magnetism of omniscient god-men intent on preserving their lives into death. These ancient structures drew you in.

Cairo. The pyramids. Still standing on the horizon of time. The pyramids firm on shifting sands. The city of Cairo pulsating with a tremendous life force, never still, never silent, always moving. The solidity of antiquity, the fluidity of modernism. The entwined forces of the pyramids, pointing to the heavens, forever gazing into eternity, and the vibrantly alive veins and arteries of a city bursting with restless energy, Islamic beauty, and constantly changing urbanity.

It Came Upon a Midnight Clear

It came upon a midnight clear,
that glorious song of old,
From angels bending near the earth,
to touch their harps of gold.
"Peace on the earth, good will to men,"
from Heaven's all gracious King.
The world in solemn stillness lay,
To hear the angels sing.

How we loved sharing this time of year together, Loren and I and the rest of the family. We had so many wonderful gatherings from the time we were young children in Rochester, New York. The traditions continued into our adulthoods, with our own children, and now with their children. We all shared as many Christmases together as we could, in Rochester, in Toledo, in Tallahasee, in St. Petersburg, in DC, and in between.

Loren inherited mom's make-believe tree, and he always had it ready to take out and light up. In fact, he brought it out early and kept it up late. I think it was because it held so many warm memories for him. Loren held on to the things that comforted him, sustained him. I understand it so much better now. I wish I could say it to him. We'd remind him that it was April and his Christmas tree was still up. "Yeah, I'll get to it" He did in his own time. I understand it now.

Loren didn't like the commercialism, but he loved the traditions, the spirit, the music. He had a good voice and sang Christmas carols, just like my dad. He loved the candles and the lights. My brother was a romantic at heart. He listened to love songs--Elton John, Paul McCartney, Nat King Cole, Andrea Bocelli. I pray he's found his true love wherever he is. How lucky that person will be.

I liked giving him gifts at Christmas, mostly books, or a subscription to the National Geographic, a membership to the Smithsonian, National Museum of the American Indian, or one of his favorite environmental groups. Loren usually gave little presents he had bought at the gift shops of one of his charities; St. Marks was a favorite. His gifts were precious, because they came from the heart.

This year I’m giving Loren the ancient sights and sounds and mysteries of Egypt. I know how much they mean to him. If the Age of Gold, the age of peace foretold by prophets, is coming round, it might well begin in Egypt, the ancient cradle of civilization. “You can tell me all about it, Loren. We can share our lives again. We can touch our souls there. See you in Egypt.”

For lo, the days are hastening on,
By prophet bards foretold,
When, with the ever-circling years,
Shall come the Age of Gold.
When peace shall over all the earth
it's ancient splendors fling,
And all the world give back the song
which now the angels sing.

Lighting the Starobelsk Christmas Tree

On Sunday night, 19 December 2010, Starobelsk held its annual lighting of the Christmas tree. People gathered around the huge tree in front of the Cultural Center, visiting, chatting and dancing to the music blaring from the loud speakers. I didn't recognize any of the songs, none of the anthems and songs that we grew up with and associate with Christmas. It's a different tradition here; Christmas Day is 7 January, gift giving is usually on New Year's eve, and the frenzy and commercialism of a prolonged season is much less pronounced.

Icy rain started to fall, and the program began. Some songs, a visit from their Santa, very elegant, and then voila, the tree lit up the night! It was as spectular as seeing the lighting of the White House tree in Washington, DC. I met Nick and some of his friends at the tree. Nick is helping with the design work on my 2011Starobelsk calender, which I've decided to make my "Starobelsk Memories."

After the tree is lit, the tradition is to dance around the tree, so Nick and I joined the circle and went around, laughing and singing in the snowy, icey rain. Nothing could dampen the joy of the moment. The Christmas season in Starobelsk, Ukraine.