by Ten Ilajas

The current was perfect. I was basking under the afternoon sun at the boat’s sundeck, sipping on tea, and munching on breadsticks. The breeze was cool. There was an abundant growth of reed on the riverbanks. We passed through sleepy towns where people would come out to their docks and wave as the cruise boats flow with the river’s direction. It was surreal – the sunset on the west bank that cast silhouettes on what seemed to be temples, small brick houses, and cypress and sycamore trees atop the mountains.

All I can think about was that it was the river where Moses, the baby, was tucked in a basket made of woven bulrushes, rocked to sleep by the gentle flow of the river, and hidden by the reeds, only to be found by no less than the Princess of Egypt.

It is the story that most of us know about Egypt, along with the mummies, pyramids, and treasures. These stories took place in the Nile and have been handed through generations and continents.

However, more than the usual stories that we know, there are stories that are still waiting to be unearthed. There are stories that you can Google or watch in Nat Geo, but listening to these stories first-hand from the people who descended from the same lineage took us back to a time where the first civilization thrived on the banks of the Nile. It felt as if we were traders or scholars from other parts of the world traveling to Mesopotamia or at the time of King Rameses experiencing the old world.

We visited the temples and tombs along the riverbanks in Luxor. From Luxor, we went to Aswan and then back to Cairo.

At the Karnak Temple in Luxor, there were colossal columns and a few obelisks on the temple grounds. How do you transport gigantic blocks of granite stones from one part of the country to another without heavy equipment and trucks? Luckily, one of the locals, Marya, had the answer to this. According to her, the stones were transported via the Nile River when it flooded during the monsoon months, making it easier to transport the huge blocks of stones from Aswan to different parts of the country by flushing them along with the currents.

We also saw Cleopatra’s famous tub that her servants filled with milk for her bath. We also learned that she was her father’s favorite daughter because not only was she beautiful, but she was also very intelligent.

In the temple built by Ptolemy XII, Cleopatra VII’s father, there was a huge well that determined how much taxes the Pharaoh should collect from the people. If the well was full, then it meant that the crops were thriving. Thus, they collected higher taxes from the people; when the water was low, they collected low to zero taxes.

Mohammad, our local guide in Edfu, read a few parts of the hieroglyphs on the wall on the same temple. He said that when you are called “Nefer,” as in Neferteri or Nefertiti, you are a beautiful woman. He winked at me and said, “Nefer-Ten.” He was nice.

The carvings on the walls reflected how people treated the sick, fought their wars, professed their love, and worshipped and honored the gods.

One of the stories that I have also only heard of during the trip was the story of Queen Hatshepsut. She had her temple carved on a mountain. She was portrayed as a male Pharaoh, but this was not because she wanted to be a man but because she wanted to be seen as a true King and Ruler of Egypt. On a side note, Sauzan, our local guide in some parts of Luxor, mentioned that there was gossip that Hatshepsut had an affair with her temple’s architect. It was said that it was the reason why the temple was carved out of the mountain. It was said that the mountain symbolized his love for her, and the temple was her heart; the mountain protected the temple and so did his love for Hatshepsut – it protected her heart.

In some sites, we noticed hardened mud piles, which Sauzan told us were used as stepping stones or scaffoldings to build the temples; they were removed after the actual structure was built. For some temples, however, the mud piles were never removed because they were unfinished. Perhaps the Pharaoh died, or another Pharaoh was declared the ruler of Egypt. This is the same with tombs and other structures; once the King dies, the projects were stopped to make way for the new King’s orders.

We have learned the relevance of the East and West banks of the Nile. The East bank, where the sun rises, represents birth and re-birth. This is why temples are located on the East bank. The west, where the sun sets, symbolizes death. Thus, the pyramids and tombs were built on the west bank.

Listening to the locals’ stories made me think about how patient the ancient Egyptians were – from gathering the mud from the shallow banks of the river, piling and shaping them, and making temples and tombs using their bare hands to transporting those gigantic rocks and etching the walls with drawings and hieroglyphics.

Another story was that of the workers who constructed the Pharaohs’ pyramids. They were taken from the same families who lived on the west side of the river. They worked for the Pharaoh all through their lives, and once the tombs were done or the Pharaoh they were serving was dead, the workers needed to die so that the location of the tombs would remain a secret to everyone in Egypt. One of our guides told us that the same lineages still live on the west bank and have turned to farming, carpentry, or making papyrus.

There were stories of the gods and how the Pharaohs did everything to please them. There were stories of the journey of one’s soul into the afterlife and beliefs that if you were a kind, good, and righteous ruler in Egypt, the god Osiris will bring you back to life. This is the reason why the pyramids or tombs’ locations were hidden and kept secret to everyone, so that their bodies could be preserved from thieves, and so they can safely be brought back to life.

The stories of the Nile do not only revolve around the structures and the beautiful ancient cities or the stories about the different Pharaohs or a certain Cleopatra. More than the structures that are known, both the ancient and current Egyptians are resilient and grateful people who strive daily.

We explored the temples and streets like archaeologists and explorers assigned to investigate and discover the old world. Although we were unlike most of the tourists who were rich-looking and successful people who were enjoying their golden ages exploring and traveling, the locals welcomed and treated us the same.

They told us their tales and shared their customs and culture, and as they spoke, there was this sparkle of excitement in their eyes and pride about their heritage and history regardless of how many times they have retold these stories.

There might have been some bumps on the road, but I do not want to focus on them here because the whole experience of discovering Egypt and its stories is more relevant and worth it.

As I stared at the winding river, the sun setting on the west, seabirds above my head, I had come to realize that the world hasn’t changed that much. The ancient Egyptians had served their masters, they dedicated their lives to their daily toil to fulfill their duties to the community, to their art, and their craft, and they have written their stories on the walls of the beautiful archaeological sites.

I think, until now, it is the same. Each one of them has a story to tell – a contribution to a collective of stories that not only thrive on the banks of the Nile River but also resonate throughout the world. This is because they know these stories by heart, and they strive to dig and constantly re-discover their history. Truly, everyone who comes to visit should know that this is their story.