SOLDIERS IN ANCIENT LAND

Evening Star, Issue 24008, 6 October 1941, Page 9

SOLDIERS IN ANCIENT LAND

IMPRESSIONS DIFFER FROM TOURISTS’ (N.Z.E.F. Official Nows Service.) CAIRO, September 13. In peace time tourists Hock to Eg3 T pt, called there by the air of ancient mystery which surrounds a land whose civilisation was old when the Homans wont to Britain, What docs the soldier serving in the Middle East see of the relics of past culture, and in what way do the tourist attractions appeal to him 'i In many instances bis impressions are very different from those of tourists, who stay only a few weeks at the most during the cool season. He sees less, and yet’ he sees more—less of the glamour of the East and more of the reality. No country appears the same in war time. Buildings are sand-bagged, areas are fortified, and a black-out is observed at night. However, practically all the attractions are open to the soldier, and ho may visit them at any time with or without a guide as he chooses. The world-famous Cairo museum is closed for the duration of the war, but there is no difference in any others of Egypt’s wonders, except perhaps that they are not “sold” to the men in uniform with the same enthusiasm as they are to the tourists. For the first month or two in the Middle East the New Zealander usually finds his leave periods fully occupied in seeing the sights. Intrinsically associated with the name Egypt are pyramids, and the newly-arrived soldier always makes the Great Pyramids, situated within easy tram distance of Cairo, one of his first trips. On arrival ho sees huge edifices of stone; he gazes at “ Cheops,” the largest and greatest, and is told that it was built 3,733 years before tbo time of Christ, that it is composed of 85,000,000 cubic feet of stone and occupies an area of about 13 acres. The New Zealander is a prac-tical-minded man, come to Egypt with a serious job to do, and, while he. admires the engineering marvels of the construction of the great monument, he i senses no symbolic or prophetic meaning there. It is a sweltermgly hot day, and perhaps he is having his first ride on a donkey, which he notices has a funny choppy gait when compared to a horse. The great heat usually forbids undue exercise, but some men undertake the 451ft'dimb to the top of Cheops—others put it off until the winter, and by the time winter does come they have almost forgotten that there are pyramids in Egypt. . Of some 365 mosques in Cairo, the soldier visits one or perhaps two. Usually it is the Mohamed Ali Mosque or the Blue Mosque, where he is accompanied by a.hired guide, or dragoman, wears slippers, and has his fortune told. A visit to the native bazaars, or Mousky, is perhaps the nearest the soldier comes to contact with the real East. Here he can see weaving, embroidery, shoe-making, and brass engraving being done by the natives and can purchase Eastern curios. . , . Other trips handy to Cairo include the Barrage, Heliopolis, the Citadel, and the Zoo. All these are interesting to the newcomer, because they have the appeal of being unlike anything which can be seen in New Zealand. The city of Cairo, with its mixture of races, its panorama of poverty and riches, and its old and new customs attracts at first. Cabarets, open-air theatres, street cafes, and even bargaining with street hawkers are all new forms of amuseUniike the tourist, the soldier cannot see Egypt in a few weeks with plenty of money in his pocket, and then sail away with pleasant memories of picturesque natives and enchanted scenes of Oriental charm. He has to live and work there through the long trying summer. A constant visitor to Cairo, he sees much of the seamy side of life that is a part of every metropolis, accentuated in Eastern cities. To him the natives in the street cease to be picturesque, and . the tourist attractions lose their appeal after they have been visited once, or, at the most, twice. From being interested he becomes accustomed and in some cases bored. There is little mystery left in pyramids when they can be seen every morning from the tent door, and nothing romantic about a native newsboy whose cry of " good news ” is always an accompaniment to breakfast.