In the 1990s, I first came to Egypt. I really love the history of the Ancient World, so I probably expected something completely amazing and unusual from this country. But when we were taken to Giza to the pyramids, I was disappointed. They are not at all magnificent. In history textbooks, the stones of the pyramids were described as being so tightly fitted to each other that the blade of a knife cannot be inserted between them. In reality, even a finger easily entered the grooves. The famous Sphinx was surrounded by scaffolding.
Fall from the pyramid
Seeing how tourists freely climb the pyramids and no one forbids them to do so, I decided to try it too, but did not calculate. My foot slipped and I hit my left elbow on the stones.
She got up, dusted herself off, examined the injured elbow - well, an abrasion and an abrasion, with a couple of drops of blood. I didn't even stick it with a plaster. At this time, a guide came up, and we were taken to inspect the pyramid of Khafre. The passages in this pyramid are dark and low, in order to get to the burial chamber, one had to go first down and then up, while bending into three deaths.
We walked there, encountering the oncoming flow of tourists who were already returning after the inspection. Many people lacked air, people felt bad. Finally we reached the cell. It was a circular room, in the center of which stood the sarcophagus of Khafre, and on the side was a stone lid leaning against the wall.
Everything, including the walls and the lid, was inscribed with the names of tourists and the dates of visiting the pyramids. Apparently, many decided to leave their mark on history. And most of all, judging by the names, there were records from Russian tourists.
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Blood is everywhere
I wanted to leave an autograph for me too. Taking an iron key out of my pocket, I decided to scrawl my name on the lid of the sarcophagus. At that moment I somehow didn’t think that I was not only damaging the cultural monument, but also leaving an inscription on the tombstone, and even though it was several thousand years old, it’s better not to do this. While the guide was talking about the life of Pharaoh Khafre, I quietly scrawled the letter "C" on the stone, and already took up the second … When I suddenly physically felt that something warm, like water, ran down my scratched elbow. I looked and was stunned: it was blood flowing. At the site of the scratch, a wound the size of a small coin suddenly formed. Blood began to drip onto the floor of the cell, flooded my white skirt, bag …
Then the tourists saw what was happening, gasped and began to give me first aid - someone held out a plaster, someone turned out to be hydrogen peroxide. However, it was not so! The blood continued to flow, despite the burning with peroxide, and the plaster, soaked in it, immediately fell off. Our guide invited me to pull off the edges of the wound, someone began to look for a bandage in their purse.
Take away the autograph
Another thing came to my mind. “You write your name on the pharaoh's grave. Don't be surprised now that he didn't like it. Realizing this, I began to shade the already scribbled letter with the same key.
And then a real miracle happened: as soon as I crossed out the letter, the edges of the wound closed, and the blood, which by that time had generously flooded my clothes and dripped onto the floor of the cell, suddenly began to smoke, as if boiling. A moment - and the blood disappeared completely. And the strangest thing is that there were no stains left on the white fabric of the skirt. The blood has really evaporated!
I returned from the pyramid quieted and depressed. The tourists were whispering behind my back. We all saw this miracle - and no one could find an explanation for it. I remember one woman said:
- If the pharaoh punishes everyone who paints the walls and the lid of his sarcophagus, what happened to those who left the autographs?
And really, what happened to them?
Sofia Pavlova