So I got kicked out of the pyramids for making art...
Some people just don’t appreciate art. To them, the Mona Lisa is just some girl trying not to smile. Michelangelo’s David is just a naked dude carved out of clay. And apparently to others, bodypainting is…well, enough to get me kicked out of the pyramids…
I thought the idea was not only perfectly harmless, but I’ll admit, a bit brilliant as well. Picture it…the naked chiseled figure of a man whose proportions were painted perfectly and properly positioned so that his torso blended in with the beautiful blue sky above and parts of his legs and arms allowed the rest of him to disappear into the backgrounds of the neighboring pyramids.
Once the painting was complete, we made the trek to the first of three checkpoints to gain access to these mighty structures for what was surely going to be an EPIC day.
The Egyptian guard was imposing as he glared at us, perched high atop his camel, covered completely in white, except for a black cap that designated his position, and that he was not there to mess around. I’d heard stories about supposed corruption among these types there at the pyramids and, not one to take chances with authority figures in foreign countries, had left my passport at the hotel and shoved my SD card down my bra. (classy, I know, but effective.)
He looked me over fiercely, but when his eyes took in the brilliant blue figure that was Kyle (my painted model) he spoke…well BOOMED at us:
“Passports. Camera. Now.”
I quickly came to the conclusion that if we handed over the goods, it would be the last we would see of them. I firmly shook my head no and let him know that we wouldn’t be rattled. His tanned face must have turned 3 shades of red when he realized we weren’t going to be easily taken.
“You give me 1000 American dollars.”
Ahhh, a bribe so that he would look the other way at Blue Kyle as we scoot on through to the next checkpoint, which left me wondering what the heck THEY may demand from us there!
“$1000 huh? What do I get for all that money? A necklace? A pyramid keychain? Maybe a shrunken replica of the Sphynx?”
I could hear Kyle snicker, and the look on this guard’s face told me that it’s not likely he had dealt with many women talking back at him, much less mocking his attempt at theft. (after a day spent with various hustlers and seedy “local gentlemen” offering to buy me form Kyle for as many as a million camels, which was flattering, I was pretty sure this was the case.”
I held steadfast, looking ahead, trying to look through him towards our goal, hoping that he would simply relent, and we would be on our way.
“Fine. YOU. GO. NOW!”
He was pointing…not towards our path forward, but back the way we came. It was then that it suddenly hit me…This guy probably just isn’t a big art fan.
And that’s…how I got kicked out of the pyramids for bodypainting.
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