I sat on a
concrete bench and ate a Hawaushi (kind of a pancake filled with spicy meat)
watching a shop owner who scolded a boy that had thrown an empty bottle on the
street. He demanded the boy to pick the garbage up. And in fact: everything was
clean. No paper, no butts, no plastic bottles.
That was in
January 2011 in the Souq. About three weeks before the outbrake of the famous
revolution on 25 January 2011.
“Aswan, ia
gamila, hassal eh?“ Aswan, my beauty, what has happened??
16 months
later, Aswan looks like all places in Egypt. It lost its denotation of the
cleanest city in Egypt. In the Souq, cobblestones have been removed and not
replaced, holes have not been filled up, garbage is carelessly discarded everywhere.
Many shops are shut. The thick dust from the previous storm makes everything
look even more bleakly. Two days before, the bazaar owners and shop assistants
demonstrated: the tour guides prefer to bring the tourists to the big souvenir
shops in direction of the airport because there, they get a higher commission.
The huge
Nile cruisers are lying dark and ghastly ashore. The coachmen are waiting in
vain for customers. A fistful of feluccas is on the Nile. My hotel in a
gorgeous garden is almost empty – there are only 15 guests. Hardly any tourists
find their way to Aswan. Utter misery.
Thereby,
this beautiful landscape is always attractive with its charming enchantment, its
location a treasure. Historical sights are almost empty and can be admired in
peace and calm. The golden hills, the blue Nile and the green Islands form an ever
ancient unit, spread calm and serenity. Endlessly, reliable, ignoring the course
of the events. Fatalistic like its people?
Aswan, my
beauty, what has become of you? Egypt, with your history of thousands of years,
how deep further do you want to tumble?
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