KV35: Tomb of Amenhotep II

Posted on March 12, 2015 by Paula Terrey

17 March 2000 (morning, continued)

Amenhotep II, blessed by the goddess Hathor

Amenhotep II, assisted by the goddess Hathor

The trail from Deir el-Medina to the Valley of the Kings brings us out near KV35, the tomb of Amenhotep II. Bill would like us to see this one together and then we’ll explore on our own for a couple of hours before meeting up again to tour KV62, Tutankhamen’s tomb.

KV35 is important for a number of reasons, not the least because, like DB320, it housed a royal mummy cache. Discovered in 1898 by French Egyptologist Victor Loret, it had been heavily looted in antiquity, but was still knee-deep in broken funerary furnishings: a higgledy-piggledy puzzle of strange items whose complete form and function could only be guessed at until discovery of similar, unbroken items in Tutankhamen’s tomb over two decades later.

Plan of KV35, Tomb of Amenhotep II

We enter and walk down a very long and steep series of stairs and corridors. The tomb is an odd mix of finished and unfinished surfaces, with this first part being unfinished. When we finally arrive in the burial chamber, however, we’re rewarded with a magnificent “stick figure” illustration of the Amduat that explains, in 12-hour segments, what the deceased will encounter in the netherworld.

The 12th Hour of the Amduat. Public domain photo, Wikimedia Commons.

Winged cobra and cedarwood cow god from KV35. From “The Illustrated Guide to the Egyptian Museum in Cairo,” American University in Cairo Press.

Loret was a careful excavator. He superimposed a series of grids over the chambers as he cleared them and tied his finds to those grids in his notes. He also made sketches and took photographs. Unfortunately, he never published more than a general article about the tomb and no one else took up the task. Still, a few items are always mentioned in the accounts I’ve read: a winged wooden snake sculpture, a painted cedar cow head, and a large model boat that sported a rather gruesome mummy tossed carelessly on top.

And then there was Amenhotep himself. He was in his lidless sarcophagus, encased in an off-the-rack cartonnage mummy case and wrapped in linen supplied for him by the 21st dynasty priests who were in charge of tidying up the Valley of the Kings after extensive looting. These same priests rescued nine of his compatriots and stashed them in a side chamber. With this bonanza, many of the pharaohs not included in the Deir el-Bahari cache (DB320) were now accounted for, leaving the world with an astonishingly complete set of New Kingdom kings.

The three side-room mummies of KV35. Engraving from a photograph.

The mummies didn’t stop there, however, with three more — two women and a boy — on the floor of a side chamber, unwrapped and without any helpful jottings. They’ve inspired speculation ever since, especially the “Elder Lady,” a haughty beauty with flowing hair who is, most likely, Queen Tiye, wife of Amenhotep III.

Amenhotep, packed for shipment to Cairo before being ordered back to his tomb. Note the ancient wreath of flowers around his head.

Loret lovingly packed all the mummies for shipment to Cairo, but at the last-minute the Egyptian government ordered them returned to the tomb. In 1900 that decision was partly reversed, but the three unwrapped mummies stayed in the side chamber and Amenhotep was popped back into his sarcophagus and put on public display.

Then, as if the man hadn’t suffered enough, modern robbers broke into the tomb in late 1901 and ripped the bandages from around Amenhotep’s head and chest, presumably looking for jewelry and amulets and not realizing the wrappings were an ancient re-do and valuables were long gone. Luckily, the mummy was relatively undamaged and so he went back on display until 1931, when he finally made the trip to Cairo and joined the rest of the gang. The three side chamber mummies, however, stayed put.

As we gaze at the stone sarcophagus — it’s quite beautiful, made of red quartzite and with a rounded end like a cartouche — it’s hard to absorb that this space was once so mysterious and complex. Wooden planking covers the floor and the place is packed with people and shockingly hot and humid. These conditions cannot be good for the tomb and I’m seized with guilt for contributing my own sweat and respirations to the mix.

Red quartzite sarcophagus of Amenhotep II. Photo courtesy of Ignati, Wikimedia Commons.

Memphis

Posted on November 23, 2014 by Paula Terrey

13 March 2000 (morning)

Zahi Hawass signing books after his lecture

Our first day of touring starts with an unexpected diversion: a lecture by Zahi Hawass, director of the Giza Plateau. Dr. Hawass talks about the “tombs of the golden mummies” at Bahariya Oasis and then discusses pyramids. There are 107 pyramids in Egypt and apparently nine known capstones dating to dynasties 4-6. One ancient written source says capstones were encased in gold or electrum.

Because of the lecture we change our plans for the day. Instead of heading for the Giza Plateau (something best done first thing in the morning) we will go to Memphis. However we also have permission from Dr. Hawass to stop at the Giza Worker’s Cemetery, so we will do that first.

Apartments five stories tall, rugs and laundry hanging from the windows. A man in a dark blue galabeya, embroidery at the throat, turban on his head, sitting in front of a drug store smoking a water pipe. Two camels lying in an alley, chewing hay. A woman sweeping the street with a broom made of twigs. Wooden push carts heaped with clover. Japanese tourists climbing onto camels. Salami hanging in the door of a market. Bags of potato chips overflowing from boxes onto the sidewalk.

The Worker’s Cemetery at Giza is an active archaeological site so no close-up photos are allowed. Temporary wooden steps have been scaled over large dunes to allow easier access to the tombs. The higher the tomb, the greater the status of the tomb owner. The highest tombs in the cemetery belonged to supervisors and are made of stone, with stone stelae. The lower tombs are mud brick and many have a distinctive “beehive” shape.

The worker’s cemetery at Giza, an active archaeological site.

As we get back on the bus a group of girls wearing the tan, belted coats of their school uniform wave to us, tangles in their hair and big smiles on their faces. We leave Giza at 11:00 and pass at least a half-dozen papyrus “museums,” “institutes,” and “schools.”

A butcher shop, raw meat carcasses hanging from the doorway. Rooftops piled with loose bricks and trash. A canal footbridge made from a raft of metal drums. People camping under a bridge. A donkey cart loaded with oranges. Gardens between houses. Women washing clothes and rugs on the bank of an irrigation canal.

Moustafa lectures as we travel. The many houses we see with rebar sticking from the roofs and piles of cement and sand in the yards are waiting for the addition of another room or floor. If a home is unfinished then the owner doesn’t pay taxes. This has created a sort of nation-wide Winchester Mystery House syndrome, where nobody’s home is ever done. There’s also an Islamic law against usury, so rather than taking out a mortgage Egyptians save and pay for their homes with cash and expand when they can afford it.

The farther we go the more farmland we see until we are surrounded completely by fields dotted with mud brick villages. Every yard has a domed pigeon cote with stick perches. Cotton is grown in the Delta. Luxor and Aswan grow sugarcane. Everyone grows clover for animal feed. The clover is waist high, tender, and such a brilliant green it hurts to look at it. The road runs next to an irrigation canal lined with trees drooping with egrets.

The greatly ruined pyramids of Abusir are in the distance and Saqqara is on our right. There are several carpet schools in this area. Moustafa tells us the local farmers have an average of nine to eleven kids. They want large families so they will have more help in the fields but some of the kids go to school – carpet school – instead.

A wooden handcart loaded with pita bread. Drying dates. A man standing in a doorway, ironing a pair of jeans. A canal covered with green scum. Rubble mixed with desert sand. Bits of scrubby grass. Barking dogs. Goats.

“Alabaster Sphinx” of Memphis

The village of Mit Rahina is the site of ancient Memphis. We arrive at 11:30 and enter the fenced enclosure of the open air museum. Moustafa lectures as we examine the alabaster sphinx and then have a friendly debate regarding another statute and whether it should be attributed to Hatshepsut or Tuthmosis III.

There is a shelter over the colossus of Rameses II that allows for viewing at ground level and from above. Rameses is on his back. His arms are as big as redwood tree trunks yet the muscles are perfectly defined.

Rameses II Colossus

New York to Cairo

Posted on November 20, 2014 by Paula Terrey

12 March 2000

The Great Pyramid from Mena House. The tower on the right is part of the hotel.

We are over the Mediterranean as I write this and the next land we see, forty-five minutes from now, will be Egypt. We’re late but it couldn’t be helped. Air Traffic Control put us in a holding pattern as we approached JFK. A fifteen minute delay became half-an-hour, then stretched to two hours with no explanation.

Because we were so late they wouldn’t let us leave the plane in New York. We stood and chatted with the woman behind us, whose name is Huda. She’s originally from the Sudan and was raised Muslim but now she lives in Santa Barbara and is a Native American Sundancer.

Chaz has had yet another mid-air pen disaster. There’s a splotch of ink on his passport control card and the tips of two fingers are black, but considering all the henna around here he looks quite fashionable.

At 7:10 pm we arrive at Cairo International Airport. The airport –- or at least this terminal of the airport –- isn’t nearly as large as I expected but there’s no doubt we’re in the right place. The ceiling panels are aluminum but the floor is granite and the square pillars are encased in alabaster. The Hadj is just starting so the place is packed with well wishers from the countryside, seeing their loved ones off on their great religious adventure.

Twelve of us are assembled and waiting for the Museum Tours representative, Khaled, to shepherd us onward. Khaled has thinning wavy hair, boundless energy, and a cell phone glued to his ear.

Once outside the airport we board a bus/van hybrid and are introduced to Moustafa, our guide for the duration of the trip. Moustafa is young, exuberant, friendly, and speaks English with a clear accent. He will be perfect.

The ride from the airport to our hotel is a blur of sights: cars and motorcycles driving without lights (why do they do that?!), trucks piled high with bulging sacks of grain, and cattle on the way to the butcher.

We pass a replica statue of Rameses II and then the City of the Dead, an Islamic cemetery that’s home to thousands of squatters. It’s sprawling and spooky, walled off from the main road but we can see down the narrow streets as we pass. Cooking fires flicker in front of darkened tomb doorways. Moustafa tells us the government can’t force people already living there to leave, however they offer interest-free loans and help getting apartments. There are 65 million people in Egypt, 18 million in Cairo.

At 8:30 pm we arrive at Mena House, an astonishing island of tranquility. We’re in room 163, ground level of the newest section of the hotel. Our room is furnished with two comfortable chairs, a low table, several lamps, an old-fashioned wardrobe, and an up-to-date looking television. The beds and windows are draped with tapestry-like material and the bathroom has a marble counter and floor. The tag on our room key is thick, heavy brass.

Flight to New York

Posted on November 14, 2014 by Paula Terrey

11 March 2000

Postcard purchased in Egypt by my great-grandmother, Blanche Brechbill, 1927

Airport security searched my husband’s tin of mints. It’s the sort of thing I’d normally obsess about, but there’s no time for that now because we’re already on our Egypt Air flight to Cairo via New York and there are too many other things to contemplate.

First thrill: we have a Coptic priest on board. He has a curly gray beard, long black robes that are full in the sleeve and edged at the cuffs with a wide band of red satin, and an expensive looking brown leather briefcase. His hat is made of three black silk donuts, stacked together and topped by an upside down red felt dish embroidered with a Coptic cross in gold thread.

Most of the female passengers are wearing scarves around their hair: chiffon in plain pastels, flower borders, or geometric designs. No full chador. Faces are exposed, skirts are ankle-length, and tops are form-fitting with long sleeves. The materials are strictly synthetic, almost polyester double-knit.

A couple of women near us are traveling with children (young children) and no visible husbands. The kids are in constant motion so an accurate head count is impossible, but my best guess is four or five per woman. One of the mamas has taken off her shoes and I can see henna tattoos wrapped around her ankle like a chain; the bottoms of her feet are hennaed too. She’s plump, with a smattering of freckles on light coffee skin and a dark scarf around her hair. Her oldest daughter can’t be more than eight or nine, yet she is fully in charge of the small fry. Eventually a couple of men, presumably the husbands, show up and spend a few minutes chatting with the women. The reason for their absence is now clear: they are seated in Business Class.

The gentleman behind us has removed his shoes, a toddler with a loaded diaper is dashing up and down the aisles, and in the restrooms Egypt Air has thoughtfully provided bottles of overpowering lemon cologne that our fellow travelers are using liberally.