Revolution In Egypt

Egypt has been a sell-out since the beginning of the revolution. Even after an apparently successful outcome, there is no end in sight. You can get a week in a 5-star hotel with a flight for 260 euros. I wonder what is better: stay away and skip the funeral feast or fly there and at least secure work for the remaining 20% of Egyptians.

We need sun. We need wind. We decide in favour of the latter. We set off for Egypt late at night from Linz and Vienna. We go through passport control at the airport unchecked. There is a recall, but nobody notices that we are simply left sitting there. From above, Hurghada looks like a Christmas tree at night. But that’s deceptive. I was here five years ago.

Seen from the ground, Hurghada is a featureless juggernaut. A desolate collection of never-ending ruins interspersed with a few luxury temples. Empty shops, empty restaurants, empty bars. Everything is empty. The world seems to fear nothing more than a better future for Egypt. We get off at the fattest luxury temple and enter a room from 1001 nights.

Astrid and Tobi stay in the hotel next door. The Grand Hotel is probably the only hotel that is well booked even during the revolution. Overall, around 75% of all tourists are missing. Not here, because the big travel agencies have lowered prices to below ouch. Without tourists there is no work, without work there is no stability. Everyone who stays away promotes an unstable Egypt – almost regardless of the price.

I wait at the reception desk for some supposed Hartz 4 people to check in. At least that’s what they look like. Some complain about the quality of their rooms. I know the rooms. They are good. But not good enough for the predominantly German mob. Always complaining. Everything for nothing, but at most 20 euros including half board per day. What is Egypt supposed to live on?

The average monthly income of cleaning staff in Egypt is 150 euros a month with free board and lodging. Doctors earn around 700 euros a month. The cost of living is about 50% of the German level. Every unemployed person in Germany therefore has significantly more purchasing power than the Egyptian educated elite. And it is precisely these unemployed people who are now standing at reception complaining. My neck gets so stiff that I can’t even shake my head.

Egypt has a millennia-old tradition of oppression. A few rich people with thick satellite dishes in fenced-in new housing estates, and masses of unplastered plaster sheds far out in the desert. Why should that ever change?

The tip of the separation is El Gouna, about 25 kilometres north of Hurghada. To the right of the entrance, an artificial waterfall gurgles in the desert. To the left, private security guards prevent any unwanted Egyptians from entering. Our kitesurfing instructor only comes in with us because he is also a lawyer. All other Egyptians have to stay outside. There is no state police or military. The rich have built their own parallel world, with private security, lightsaber-armed Jedirites at every roundabout and a marina full of yachts that makes Monaco look like McDonalds.

Everything is clean, perfect, stylish, almost beautiful – and emptier than the hotel in Shining. Millionaires don’t like sales, so it’s better to close up shop. We are the only guests in a bar where the hellishly strong Vodka Bull costs a whopping 10 euros. We’re soon flying through the night at 150 kilometres an hour to Habibi hip-hop and back into the other world. Uli falls asleep, which somehow seems to me like the deep sleep of the astronauts in 2001 on their way to new planets.

Why should Egypt make it this time? Because the Egyptians should have a lot more pride than history has given them. Because they can be honourable hosts – taxi drivers generally excepted. Because so much could happen, but everything always remained the same. Because Egypt simply deserves more than handouts and a 10 euro tip that almost doubles your monthly income. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for you, Egypt!