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Authors: PhD Donald P. Ryan
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that things are now much different on the Giza Plateau than they were during my first trip in 1981. Thanks to the Egyptian antiquities authorities, a serious archaeological site-management plan has been enacted for the long-term protection of the pyramids and for the greater enjoyment of tourists. The camel men and vendors are still around but are now confined to a specificlocale well away from the monuments themselves. Their new venue is in an area that attracts tourists with a beautiful, commanding view of the site. And while the usual suspects are certainly there, their approach is much more low-key than before, and now the customers come to them.
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W E HAD BEEN TOLD to meet at an appointed hour in front of the building that housed the American Research Center in Egypt (or ARCE). I recognized a few of my new colleagues from the Big University, but most I had never before met. It was an eclectic mix of Ph.D.âs, graduate students, a lively Egyptologist, an expert in bones, and a specialist in ancient plant remains. The students, too, provided an interesting collection of skills and personalities, from Lucy, a spunky, free-spirited Egyptology student, to âBlazo,â a snooty know-it-all who tagged along as the archaeologist boyfriend of one of Dr. Wâs students. Despite our differences, we were now a team. We loaded up several jeeps and began our drive out of Cairo toward the Fayyum.
The road to the Fayyum passes the pyramids at Giza and heads straight out through the desert to the west of the Nile. The landscape then was rather bleak except for austere army outposts and an occasional long-abandoned vehicle. After dozens of miles, a few patches of trees began to appear on the sides of the road, and eventually the extensive ruins of an ancient Roman city, Karanis, gave way to the edge of a vast agricultural region, the modern Fayyum itself. This developed area skirts the southern edge of the now-brackish and shallow lake and extends west toward the Nile, which ultimately feeds a vast irrigation network.
The Fayyum region was populated throughout the time of the pharaohs, and the diminished remains of several pyramids can befound occasionally punctuating the landscape. Later Greeks and Romans extensively colonized the area, establishing industrious agricultural estates and many towns, most of which now exist only beneath well-plowed and irrigated fields. The warmth and the palm trees of the Fayyum reminded me of my California home, albeit with the addition of donkeys and camels, and the overall effect was one of a pleasant, hospitable, and productive land.
The journey to our âbase campâ passed through lots of busy villages until we reached Qasr Qarun, just about a mile from the lake and a few miles from the very southwest end of the road terminating at the next village, Quta. Qasr Qarun was named for a nearby ancient temple that sits splendidly preserved at the desertâs edge. Our accommodations were in a large two-story white house with a roof deck. Though impressive from the outside, the inside was a dusty mess, and there were no bathrooms and no electricity to pacify American tastes. A large ditch in an adjacent orchard temporarily served as a toilet, and water was collected from a village pump in many large plastic jerry cans. Eventually a generator was hooked up, and a rooftop water tank made our living quarters acceptable. Roommates were assigned by gender or relationship, and I shared the âBoysâ Dormâ with a couple of male colleagues, where each of us had a small bunk rigged with mosquito netting hung from the sticks of stripped palm branches.
It was not long before our daily routine was established. We would awake at 4:00 A.M. ; have a sleepy breakfast of tea, bread, and marmalade at 4:30; and depart for the desert at around 5:00. Our caravan of four vehicles would leave our little compound and travel down the dusty road through the village, which was just beginning
Â
W E HAD BEEN TOLD to meet at an appointed hour in front of the building that housed the American Research Center in Egypt (or ARCE). I recognized a few of my new colleagues from the Big University, but most I had never before met. It was an eclectic mix of Ph.D.âs, graduate students, a lively Egyptologist, an expert in bones, and a specialist in ancient plant remains. The students, too, provided an interesting collection of skills and personalities, from Lucy, a spunky, free-spirited Egyptology student, to âBlazo,â a snooty know-it-all who tagged along as the archaeologist boyfriend of one of Dr. Wâs students. Despite our differences, we were now a team. We loaded up several jeeps and began our drive out of Cairo toward the Fayyum.
The road to the Fayyum passes the pyramids at Giza and heads straight out through the desert to the west of the Nile. The landscape then was rather bleak except for austere army outposts and an occasional long-abandoned vehicle. After dozens of miles, a few patches of trees began to appear on the sides of the road, and eventually the extensive ruins of an ancient Roman city, Karanis, gave way to the edge of a vast agricultural region, the modern Fayyum itself. This developed area skirts the southern edge of the now-brackish and shallow lake and extends west toward the Nile, which ultimately feeds a vast irrigation network.
The Fayyum region was populated throughout the time of the pharaohs, and the diminished remains of several pyramids can befound occasionally punctuating the landscape. Later Greeks and Romans extensively colonized the area, establishing industrious agricultural estates and many towns, most of which now exist only beneath well-plowed and irrigated fields. The warmth and the palm trees of the Fayyum reminded me of my California home, albeit with the addition of donkeys and camels, and the overall effect was one of a pleasant, hospitable, and productive land.
The journey to our âbase campâ passed through lots of busy villages until we reached Qasr Qarun, just about a mile from the lake and a few miles from the very southwest end of the road terminating at the next village, Quta. Qasr Qarun was named for a nearby ancient temple that sits splendidly preserved at the desertâs edge. Our accommodations were in a large two-story white house with a roof deck. Though impressive from the outside, the inside was a dusty mess, and there were no bathrooms and no electricity to pacify American tastes. A large ditch in an adjacent orchard temporarily served as a toilet, and water was collected from a village pump in many large plastic jerry cans. Eventually a generator was hooked up, and a rooftop water tank made our living quarters acceptable. Roommates were assigned by gender or relationship, and I shared the âBoysâ Dormâ with a couple of male colleagues, where each of us had a small bunk rigged with mosquito netting hung from the sticks of stripped palm branches.
It was not long before our daily routine was established. We would awake at 4:00 A.M. ; have a sleepy breakfast of tea, bread, and marmalade at 4:30; and depart for the desert at around 5:00. Our caravan of four vehicles would leave our little compound and travel down the dusty road through the village, which was just beginning
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