Nubia, the land of gold and mystery that basks in an eternal sun and a history all its own, is beckoning once more. Its treasures are there for all to see, especially inviting in the soft warmth of the winter months, but visitors today are few and far between. The tourists who once flocked to Aswan and its surroundings have dwindled to a trickle. And the Pharaonic and Hellenistic temples in the vicinity are waiting for a revival in tourism that may not be just around the corner. The land of the Nubians, boasting an independent culture and revelling in ancient customs, is as proud as always. But long-running stagnation has taken its toll. When you walk in the streets of Aswan, it is easy to summon up images of Old Nubia. The dark complexions of the Nubians, whom the Greeks once called Ethiopians, are a reminder of the origins of the Nile in the heart of Africa. And the nearby rapids, a natural barrier to river transport and running amid the terraced mountains dotted with colourful houses, mark a nexus between geography and history like no other. Following age-old traditions, the houses of Nubia are painted red, yellow and blue. Topped with domes and fitted with air shafts, they have been the inspiration of a whole school of revivalist architecture that continues to this day. A tribute to nature, a nod to historical motifs and a lot of hospitality also turn the mountains into a welcoming space. From the Island of Gharb Soheil, once dedicated to the worshippers of the Ram-headed god Knum, it is possible to have an uninterrupted view of glorious mountains, ancient temples and the modern mausoleum of the Agha Khan. The village of Gharb Soheil was settled after 1902 when the first Aswan Dam was built. To this day, most of its inhabitants are Nubians. Visitors arrive by sail and motor boat, docking at a sandy beach called Barbar. From there they take camels into the village. Many of the houses are open to visitors, who are welcomed into private homes, offered meals and drinks, and invited to admire the local handicrafts with their distinguishing geometrical designs and bright colours. Those who seek a non-permanent henna tattoo can use the services of local artists. As visitors sip herbal tea, infusions of peppermint, hibiscus and the local plant known as halfa, plates of okra and beans are brought to the table. Plans are made for nights of song and dance. Mona, Wessam, Meleika and Qamar are four sisters who run one of the local houses-turned-inns. Nearby, the house of Nasser Al-Nubi is also a must see. Atop a prominence overlooking the river perches the Hotel Anakato, which a Nubian poet called Yehia Taher started years ago. The inhabitants of Gharb Soheil also raise crocodiles, though of the small and medium-sized variety. Visit any of the houses open to visitors, and you'll find yourself in a gallery atmosphere surrounded by a wide variety of handicrafts: carpets and robes, caps and beaded purses, shawls and thatched boxes of reeds. A personal favourite is the gergar, a lightweight black robe of gauze fabric worn over a coloured gown. Singers and song writers, musicians and dancers, artisans and artists all feel they are an integral part of this enchanted land. Mostly dependent on tourism today, these people's tales run further back then when the first tourists started coming. They are connected to the glory that was Nubia, a land that lies half on the highlands surrounding the River Nile and half underneath the artificial lakes that the two dams at Aswan have created. Surviving traditions: If you're a young man getting married in Nubia, you have to be ready to spend your last penny, and then some more. There's no way out. Families vie in the number of animals they slaughter, so ingrained is extravagance in the local culture. A groom has to go door-to-door to invite every single family in his village. Once this is done, he should travel to nearby villages and do the same. If fewer than 2,000 guests show up for the big night, if people don't come from Tangar, Ezbet Al-Askar, Al-Shallal and Kurur, something must have gone terribly wrong. And if they do show up, the bridegroom is broke. The wedding season in Nubia runs from June until November, covering most of the summer months. I once had the chance to attend the wedding of two brothers, Samir and Mohamed, and the event was spectacular. The Island of Heisa, where the weddings were held, was turned into a beehive. Visitors came from villages near and far. Women cooked fetta (a dish of bread and rice topped with meat), the green soup known as molokhiya, and stuffed vegetables. Trays of bread rolls and dessert kept showing up for lunch and dinner. This scene is familiar in this part of the country. Some families are rebelling against some aspects of such traditions, fiddling with the menu, for example, buying a new type of furniture that is not strictly local, or building modern homes with bricks and cement instead of the traditional adobe. But some habits die hard, and one is that weddings have to be expansive and expensive. The groom's family bears the lion's share of the wedding costs, perhaps up to LE100,000 or more. Asmaa, a local woman, is not happy with the pressure this puts on would-be suitors. She said that traditions are changing in many ways, but not in a manner that makes things easier on grooms. The brides still do henna before the wedding, but they also go to the fanciest hairdressers in town and buy the most fashionable wedding dress they can afford. And they all want the big wedding procession known as zaffa and a honeymoon in a five-star hotel. “How do you expect a young man with limited means to meet all this expense,” Asmaa asked. Some of these traditions are getting harder to maintain as tourism has suffered in the aftermath of the 25 January Revolution. Last year, a moderate revival in tourism helped, but this year things may be tough. Land of gold: The word Nubia is derived from the ancient Egyptian word for gold. The ancient Egyptians used to mine gold from the mountains in the nearby Wadi Al-Alaq. As a result, even in ancient times Nubia was a bit of an Eldorado and had a reputation for being both mysterious and charming. This charm is still there, but now it mostly comes from the rich culture, the unmatched beauty of nature and the unequalled reservoir of antiquity in the area. The Temples of Philae, Edfu and Dendera in Upper Egypt all offer glimpses into the marvels this land was willing to offer from Pharaonic to Ptolemaic times. For the more adventurous, another journey beckons to the gigantic sanctuary of Abu Simbel, 230km to the south and angled so that the sun illuminates the face of Ramses II twice, and only twice, every year. Among the attractions in Aswan are the Botanical Gardens, the Old Aswan Dam and the gigantic Aswan High Dam, built in the 1960s. Acknowledging the economic troubles that have affected Aswan, the Ministry of Social Solidarity is planning to dispense monthly allowances for unemployed young people in December 2015, Asmaa noted. Abu Bakr Al-Siddiq Abdel-Ghani, who works in tourism and handicrafts, also said that when tourism drops everyone in Aswan suffers, from street peddlers to yacht owners. One way to overcome the current crisis, he said, would be to promote Aswan as a health resort and to encourage new sports, including sand-surfing. On the Island of Heisa half way between the High Dam and the Old Aswan Dam, people are making ends meet by offering their traditional homes as inns for local and foreign visitors. But unless tourism bounces back to its former levels, the residents of this picturesque land will need a more stable form of income — from fishing, agriculture or industry.
