In a Bind

By Alli Sinclair

Billions of dollars, perhaps trillions, are spent every year on hair products and styling. It’s a lucrative industry and is a classic example of us humans obsessing over our noggins. This fascination isn’t new. In fact, the ancient world took this one step further—by altering their skulls.

Head binding, also known as artificial cranial deformation, dates back to 45,000 BC. The ancient Egyptians, Syrians, Maltese, Russians, Germans, and Australian Aborigines have all undertaken various forms of skull “enhancement” by binding their skull or placing cradleboards around a baby’s head to change the shape of their head.

Zip over to the Americas, and you’ll find the Mayans, Incas, and the tribes of the Chinookan and Choctaw people in North America also undertook the custom of deforming skulls as part of their culture. The Choctaw, Chehalis, and Nooksack Indians practised head flattening and on the coastal of Peru, not far from Lima, the Paracas culture had an array of altered head shapes.

Scientists have discovered at least five different shapes of elongated skulls in different cemeteries in the Paracas region. The most remarkable being a site called Chongos, not far from the quaint town of Pisco where the famous cone-shaped skulls were discovered.

Archaeologists specialising in the Mayans have discovered how altered skulls vary, depending on their geography. Skulls found in the lowlands had a slanted appearance, while skulls discovered in the highlands had an erect shape. They’ve even unearthed skulls that have a division down the middle and two distinct holes. The Mayans believed that every object has an essence, including the elements. While the mother was giving birth, the Mayans ensured the house was closed so the evil wind couldn’t harm the baby and as the baby’s soul was no yet tethered to the baby, the infants were even more vulnerable. Binding the baby’s head was akin to creating a roof over one’s head, and therefore a form of protection for the young child that would stay with it forever.

Some archaeologists believe the act of altering one’s skull was to create a “desirable” shape to make the person more aesthetically pleasing and on Tomman Island in Vanuatu, where it is still practised today, elongating the skull signifies intelligence and being closer to spirits. Whether it was for social status, such as an Incan nobleman, or for an affiliation with a tribe, the act of altering one’s skull causes great controversy in the archaeological world and certainly makes for some interesting discussions. Whatever the reasons, humans have always taken great care to alter their bodies, including their hair and head. So next time you go to the hairdresser, be careful what you ask for!

Off The Beaten Track: An Ode to my Sony eReader

Our guest today is Mary Ellen Siegford, an American teacher living in Cairo, Egypt.  When she isn't volunteering at animal shelters, riding horses or caring for her myriad pets, Mary Ellen can often be found with her nose in a book. Or, as we learn today, in her ebook reader.

My family and I packed our bags and left Aurora, Colorado, for Cairo, Egypt, in June 2009. Cairo is my husband's hometown, but I'd only been there a few times to visit my in-laws. I imagined our life in Egypt would be a chance for me to learn a new language and help people less privileged than myself. Plus, it would be character building. My parents and siblings had reservations but my husband and daughter were ready to go.

Before I stepped on the plane my sister gave me a going-away present, a Sony eReader. She said that she wasn’t sure how easy it would be for me to get my hands on books in Egypt and since she knew I was an avid reader she thought I should have an e-book reader so I could download novels as often as I liked. I was thrilled at this generous gift but wasn’t aware of how valuable the reader would prove in the months ahead. 

 

We arrived before my daughter's school year started and so got to spend a month at the beach along the northern coast of Egypt. It was glorious. The sand is made of sea shells finely ground into tiny white beads and the Mediterranean sea is such a brilliant blue that the sky looks pale and dull in comparison. We stayed in a chalet that had a 180-degree view of the sea and gorged ourselves on mangoes. I walked along the beach a lot and read a bit of the Twilight Saga on my eReader as I sat on the beach sipping lemonade and listening to the crashing waves. However, it wasn’t until I was settled into Cairo and I started work at a nearby school that the eReader became my best friend. 

 

Life in Cairo wasn’t easy and my reactions to the cultural differences were much stronger than I expected. I found myself reacting badly in situations that made me uncomfortable, and then embarrassed in front of those who had witnessed my discomfort and bad behavior. My eReader became my escape. I jumped into Julia Quinn romances like onto a life raft, reading one a day for a break from the overly exotic world around me. A co-worker recommended Downtown Owl or the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo but I couldn’t handle anything weightier than the chick lit novels of Sophie Kinsella and Marian Keyes. 

 

Then the swine flu frenzy hit Egypt and I truly felt that I was living an episode of the Twilight Zone or was on Candid Camera. In trying to discuss the Ministry of Education's policies regarding swine flu with the school administration, I was flabbergasted by the randomness and bureaucracy of Egypt. The schools were closing and reopening at random. You couldn’t plan a trip somewhere because no one could tell you the dates you would be working or not working. No kids that I knew were actually sick. Pigs were slaughtered en masse although I don’t think they really had anything to do with the swine flu but they were guilty by association. YouTube video clips showed live pigs piled on top of other live pigs in trucks until they were all suffocating each other as they were loaded up to be removed from Cairo. I sank farther from the world and further in love with my eReader. I now had to get more storage space to hold all of my books and I began reading everything ever written by Juliet Marillier.

Luckily summer came, classes were finished and I went to the USA to rejuvenate and reassess myself and Egypt. I gave my reader a break and got active with many outdoor activities. Heading back to Egypt in August I was sure I would do better. My job was going much better; I was interacting with people more and reading less--and then the Revolution happened.

People like to say “you are living in exciting times,” but exciting times can be quite boring when you look at it closely. Yes, there was the debate “do I stay or do I go” that occupied a bit of time. However, the question of leaving Egypt was kicked out the window when I realized I wouldn’t have the funds to stay abroad for an extended period of time and couldn’t get home because the east coast of the US was being slammed by winter storms. The Egyptian Revolution for me was a period of house arrest. I did not live near enough to colleagues from work to join them and the most I got out was to get groceries. The TV was on constantly, showing news stations that repeated themselves ad nauseum and my reader was back in my hands. I read The Marriage Bureau for Rich People, and the Empire Trilogy by Raymond Feist, and some P.D. James--but still the schools didn’t reopen. I read some Sue Monk Kid and North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell--and still no school.

Eventually things calmed down and school resumed. I emerged from my home (pasty white despite the Egyptian sun) and finished up the school year. We are now in Egypt for the third year. I am expecting more ‘exciting times’ ahead as Egypt works toward transitioning from a military dictatorship to a democracy. I have graduated from light fluff and chick lit and am now reading a bit tougher stuff. My ebook reader has on it Jed Rubenfeld’s two books, Water For Elephants, The Game of Thrones, City of God, and finally I have read The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. 

The culture shock that I struggled with still pops its head in now and again to say hi but for the most part I get by okay. I thank my sister for the foresight to buy the eReader for me and I thank the manufacturers for the brilliant machine--and I also love the brown leather case that holds it so that, whether what I am reading is a schmucky romance or a New York Times Best Seller, nobody knows but me!

Beyond the Wild World’s End

By Edith McClintock

The places I’ve wanted to visit are irretrievably linked to books, and romantic suspense in particular, which I fell in love with in middle school. The old-fashioned romantic suspense of Victoria Holt, Barbara Michaels, and one of my favorites in those days, M.M. Kaye. M.M. Kaye is better known for the Far Pavilions, set during the British Raj, but she also wrote a series of light mysteries in sing-song exotic spots around the world – the Andaman Islands, Cyprus, Kenya, Kashmir, Zanzibar. I read them all, and wanted to “…go sailing, far off to Zanzibar.”*

In high school, I discovered Elizabeth Peters. I can still remember reading my first Amelia Peabody mystery while crossing the Everglades in the back of my parents’ car on the way to visit my grandparents. I stayed hooked and fell in love with the Vicky Bliss series too, my favorite of which was Night Train to Memphis. And as all fans of Elizabeth Peters know, Egypt is where her heart resides. And for over twenty years, I dreamed of visiting.

My chance came when I was working in Tbilisi, Georgia, last year. I met a Peace Corps volunteer who was taking a month trip to Israel and Egypt around the same time I was completing my work in Georgia. I didn’t know him and had been planning to travel in Eastern Europe alone, but when I heard the word Egypt over a bonfire late one chilly night, I invited myself along.

Two days before we were to arrive in Tel Aviv, and just a few weeks before my flight left Cairo for New York, crowds of Egyptians began to gather in Tahrir Square. My mother called half a dozen times begging me not to go, while my sister posted Facebook messages telling me there was no way I couldn’t go. Disappointed, but making the best of it, we decided to spend more time in Israel and Jordan, always keeping a watchful eye on the news from Egypt.

We were deep in Jordan, staying in a cave in Wadi Musa, when Mubarak finally abdicated. But by then, I’d already switched my flight home from Cairo to Amman. It wasn’t until the morning I was supposed to fly home that we decided to go on to Egypt. We were only a ferry ride away. How could I not go after dreaming of it for so long?

And so we entered Egypt, on a night ferry from Jordan. I was the only woman onboard, which had its benefits as I was invited to skip the entire line of several hundred boarding men. Only to be greeted at the entry with news that the Egyptians were angry at something President Obama had done earlier in the day. Not the first thing you want to hear when entering a country in turmoil.

I won’t give you all the details of our whirlwind tour of ancient Egypt, but suffice to say I took my night train to and from Cairo. We walked through the Valley of Queens alone. We were applauded in the bazaar with cries of, “Welcome tourists! Welcome!” I saw many of the ancient sites from my favorite books, empty of tourists. All grander and more beautiful than I’d imagined while reading.

But we were also the sole targets of every poor, underpaid, or out-of-work street vendor, shop owner, taxi driver, and kid selling postcards, knickknacks, and horse and camel rides. Even the tourism police demanded their cut of baksheesh. There were many sites I couldn’t visit, including the Winter Palace, where workers were demonstrating, and the village of Gurneh, which had been bulldozed. And there was the poverty of Cairo pressed against the massive, barbed-wire wall surrounding Giza, the canals clogged with debris, the dead horses left to rot amongst the trash.

I spent my last day in Cairo, planning to visit the Egyptian museum. I asked my hotel owner, a French-Egyptian woman, how to find the museum.

She raised an eyebrow in disbelief, no doubt despite having dealt with many clueless tourists in her day. “You have heard of Tahrir Square, yes? What has happened there?” she asked.

I said, “Of course,” although I’d never heard of it until the revolution broke out.

“The Egyptian museum is in Tahrir Square,” she added, pulling out a map.

“Oh,” I answered, feeling incredibly stupid. “Is it okay for me to go?”

She smiled, clasping her heart. “You will be proudly welcomed there with open arms.”

She gave me directions to walk; it was only a few blocks. The demonstrations had ended, although more were planned for the coming Friday. But remnants were still there – the tanks and military. And of course the revolutionary trinket sellers, peddling t-shirts and flags. I spent more time in the square than in the museum, watching the Egyptians taking photos with the tanks and soldiers, a moment of peace and hope.

Egypt didn’t live up to my dream, of course, because nothing could. Although in some ways it was better, certainly more beautiful. But it wasn’t a place carefully contained within a book, or time, or focused on the past. A new history was being made. People had died only days before in Tahrir Square, as would others in days to come, but I was glad I’d taken what on my side was a very small risk to see it at that time in history.

No risk at all in comparison to what the demonstrators had faced. And one day, in my dreams, I’ll go back and sail a dahabeeyah down the Nile, and stop at Amarna, just as Amelia would recommend.

*A song for all of you who dream of far off places, by way of M.M. Kaye, as she mentions it in her book, Death in Zanzibar:

“Stowaway,” by Carolyn Leigh and Jerry Livingston

I’d like to go away – be a stowaway,

take a trip on a ship,

let my worries blow a-way.

There are still many treasure islands

that wait to be explored,

and the wide world

is full of wonders for me.

When a ship’s standing in the harbour,

I wish myself aboard,

and I hide ‘til the rolling tide

carries me to sea.

Then I go sailing far off to Zanzibar,

though my dream places seem

better than they really are,

way down deep in my heart.

I keep them as people will often do,

who are stay-at-home stowaways too.

For more, visit my author website and/or personal blog, A Wandering Tale. Even better, order a copy of Monkey Love & Murder on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, or the Book Depository (free shipping nearly anywhere in the world).

Looking Good in Ancient Egypt

The ancient Egyptians invented a whole host of useful products that we continue to use today – from locks and clocks, to plows, paper, and perfume. But because a few months back, I told you about how the ancient Indians invented plastic surgery, I thought this month it was only apropos to tell you about one of our seemingly modern inventions that actually hails from ancient Egypt – eye makeup.

Not just eye makeup but cosmetics in general. Even deodorant.

Personal hygiene and appearance were of supreme importance in ancient Egypt, as much to an individual’s social standing as to what was considered important for good health and good luck. Wearing makeup was also considered necessary to please the gods.

Priests, the servants of the gods, had to bathe and shave several times a day and constantly ensure they didn’t catch parasites or lice from the hair of the mummies they came in contact with. Even after death, one had to present themselves well for Judgment Day. Cosmetics were some of the offerings left in tombs for the dead to use in the afterworld. After death, some ladies of the court were buried with makeup such as body scrubs and cleansing cream, among other royal treasures.

But it wasn’t just the royals, the priests, and, okay, the dead who wore makeup. Even the common man, right down to the poor people, were expected to wear it. The culture practically required it, for both men and women. In fact, the word for makeup also means “protection,” as in protection from the evil eye. Most makeup was made from extracted galena, a bluish-gray mineral that is the principal ore of lead, and applied with sticks. You could tell class distinctions from the kinds of applicator sticks people used.

And while these days, we want our makeup and colognes to smell healthy and natural, not too overpowering, the opposite was true in ancient Egypt, where more was always better. Skin lightening, for example, was popular but it didn’t have to look natural. The whiter or paler the application, the better the look. Many women, not just in Egypt but in lots of cultures, used lead, even mercury, to make their skin appear whiter and brighter. (Obviously, they didn’t know then just how bad those ingredients really were for their health.)

Makeup was also used as a sunblock as well as a disinfectant. Razors, tweezers, and creams were used to remove unwanted hair. Oils and ointments were applied to protect the skin from the hot air. Fingernails were dyed with henna.

Using thin brushes, ancient Egyptians applied black kohl or else green malachite to the upper and lower eyelids, painted on thin lines reaching from the corner of each eye to the edge of the face, and darkened the eyebrows. It was thought eye makeup had magical, even healing, powers, helping to both prevent and heal eye diseases. An eye without makeup was considered the evil eye itself.

Lip gloss made from either animal fat or plant dye and rouge or blush made from red plant dye were also popular items – again, for both genders.

How you smelled was also of great importance. 

The ancient Egyptians rubbed pellets of ground carob into their skin and placed little balls of incense and even porridge to neutralize body odor. 

The first perfumes were Egyptian, and they were famous and in high demand across the Mediterranean in those days, some four thousand years ago. Most of these perfumes were plant based; the Egyptians soaked the roots, leaves, or blossoms of plants such as frankincense, myrrh, roses, almonds, lilies, henna, or cinnamon, in oil, sometimes cooked them, then extracted their oils to produce liquid perfumes, adding wax or fat to make creams and ointments. 

For soaps, the Egyptians used something called swabu (from which the English word “swab” derives), a paste made from clay or ash, mixed with oils and salts, scented, and which could be rubbed in and possibly worked into a lather.

Egyptians walked barefoot so they used clay or wooden foot baths to soak their feet in when they got home.

They produced different kinds of hair lotions using beeswax and resin. These lotions were thought to help prevent, even cure, balding and graying hair.

We may live in a society that places too much emphasis on our appearance, but think how far we’ve come in four thousand years.

A Favorite of the Pharaohs

As I write this, I’m preparing to drive 15 hours to Tennessee to a huge family gathering where, on Thanksgiving Day, we’ll mark the occasion by dining on both traditional American and Indian meals. But my mind right now is on my latest manuscript, set in Cairo, and the big spread of comfort foods Egyptians enjoy there every year. 

Not at Thanksgiving, mind you, but on a smaller scale, every evening during Ramadan with the iftar fast-breaking meal just after sunset, and especially on the final evening of Ramadan, with the traditional feast of the Eid ul-Fitr. Muslims the world over celebrate the end of Ramadan with the Eid dinner in celebratory fashion, surrounded by family and friends.

 

Each country has its own special dish (dishes, really) that you can count on to be served at either the iftar or especially on Eid. In Algeria, it’s harira, a lamb and chick pea stew simmered in tomatos and herbs, or lahm lhalou, a dish of lamb stewed in prunes. In Turkey, it might be kobete, a savory pie filled with chicken and buttery rice. In Iran, it could be aash, a hearty herb, bean, and rice-based soup. In South Asia, it might be rogan josh, a thick, dark Kashmiri stew often made with lamb or mutton; chicken jalfrezi, a colorful saute of onions and bell peppers; and maybe pakoras, an appetizer of deep-fried savory fritters. All over Southeast Asia, ketupat, a type of rice-filled dumplings, are enjoyed. In Saudi Arabia, it’s mofatah al-dajaj, an elaborate braised lamb dish garnished with sauteed sliced onions, almonds, and raisins.

 

In Egypt, as in most countries, Eid is marked by giving out sweets and taking small holidays, maybe to the beach or to visit family. Egyptians feast, party really, for three days. Families either buy and distribute kadk, a type of Middle Eastern sugar cookie, or make them together as a holiday tradition. 

 

The Egyptians usually break their fast by eating dates or a drink of qamar-eddeen, an apricot juice filled with bits of nut and fruit. The first dish is usually a lentil soup, and all over the table, you’ll find tiny bowls and plates of small savory treats, such as baba ganoush, pureed roasted eggplant with tahini and garlic, bowls of olives, and so on.

 

One small dish that is commonly seen on an Egyptian table during iftar, Eid, or even as a common breakfast item is ful medames, a thick, savory dish of slow-cooked fava beans seasoned with lemon, garlic, olive oil, and a few spices. It’s a simple comfort food that even the pharaohs once enjoyed.

Bon appetit, or as the Egyptians would say, bil hana wish shifa'!

 

Ful Medames (recipe borrowed from Epicurious.com):

Ingredients:

• 2 cups small Egyptian fava beans (ful medames), soaked overnight (and left unpeeled)
• Salt
• 1/3 cup chopped flat-leaf parsley
• Extra virgin olive oil
• 3 lemons, quartered
• Salt and pepper
• 4–6 cloves garlic, crushed
• Chili pepper flakes
• Cumin

Preparation: 

As the cooking time varies depending on the quality and age of the beans, it is good to cook them in advance and to reheat them when you are ready to serve. Cook the drained beans in a fresh portion of unsalted water in a large saucepan with the lid on until tender, adding water to keep them covered, and salt when the beans have softened. They take 2-2 1/2 hours of gentle simmering. When the beans are soft, let the liquid reduce. It is usual to take out a ladle or two of the beans and to mash them with some of the cooking liquid, then stir this back into the beans. This is to thicken the sauce.

Serve the beans in soup bowls sprinkled with chopped parsley and accompanied by lavash or pita bread.

Pass round the dressing ingredients for everyone to help themselves: a bottle of extra-virgin olive oil, the quartered lemons, salt and pepper, a little saucer with the crushed garlic, one with chili-pepper flakes, and one with ground cumin.

The beans are eaten gently crushed with the fork, so that they absorb the dressing.

Variations
• A traditional way of thickening the sauce is to throw a handful of red lentils (1/4 cup) into the water at the start of the cooking.

• In Iraq, large brown beans are used instead of the small Egyptian ones, in a dish called badkila, which is also sold for breakfast in the street.

Optional Garnishes

• Peel hard-boiled eggs—1 per person—to cut up in the bowl with the beans.
• Top the beans with a chopped cucumber-and-tomato salad and thinly sliced mild onions or scallions. Otherwise, pass round a good bunch of scallions and quartered tomatoes and cucumbers cut into sticks.
• Serve with tahina cream sauce or salad, with pickles and sliced onions soaked in vinegar for 30 minutes.
• Another way of serving ful medames is smothered in a garlicky tomato sauce.
• In Syria and Lebanon, they eat ful medames with yogurt or feta cheese, olives, and small cucumbers. 

The Immortal Life of Egyptian Hieroglyphs

Of all the ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs, none is more well known than the symbol of life, or the “ankh.” It looks like a cross, only with a loop above the transverse line, and in fact is known in Christianity as crux ansata, or the handled or “eyed” cross. Egyptian gods are often portrayed carrying it by the loop or, arms crossed over their chests, one in each hand. But its history and the origin of its meaning are as mysterious as the ancient Egyptians themselves.
 

Egyptologists aren’t really sure of the ankh’s origin but they have several theories, none of which they have been able to verify. One theory is that the ankh’s meaning is a biological interpretation of ancient cattle culture and may represent a bull’s thoraxic vertebrate. Another says that it’s the belt buckle or even the sandal strap of the goddess Isis. Yet another theory says that it represents the Nile, and that the loop on top represents the all-important Nile delta.

The ankh represents all facets of life, including  conception, the afterlife, and the soul. It is often seen with the djed and was hieroglyphs, representing strength and health respectively. They’re also used to give us glimpses into other worlds. Sometimes the gods are shown holding an ankh to the lips of mortals, which means the gods are blessing them with immortality, or the breath of life.

When I was in high school, anything New Age-y was pretty hot, including “ankh” pendants, which were all the rage. The most common were made of sterling silver, but turns out, that was not in keeping with tradition. The ancient Egyptians never made ankhs out of silver. As a symbol associated with the sun, ankhs were usually fashioned out of gold or even copper. At one point, ancient Cyprus and parts of Asia Minor produced coins with the ankh displayed on them. Even today, the ankh is associated in Cyprus with the goddess Venus (or Aphrodite), whom the Cypriots worshipped, and with copper. 

Hieroglyphs themselves are an amazing invention. They date back to at least 4,000 B.C. (at least that’s our oldest-known record of them), and they combine what we know as the alphabet with pictoral symbols, taking Egypt from a preliterate artistic tradition into hieroglyphic writing. Scholars debate whether the idea of expressing words in writing came to Egypt from Sumerian Mesopotamia or whether the ancient Egyptians developed writing independently. By the 4^th century AD though, most Egyptians couldn’t read hieroglyphs anymore, especially after the Roman Emperor Theodosius I closed all non-Christian temples in his empire. 

The Rosetta Stone is displayed at the British Museum
(photo by historylink101.com
and found at Egyptian Photo Gallery)

Early attempts at translating the ancient picture-script were mostly wrong. The breakthrough though occurred in 1799, when Napoleon invaded Egypt and discovered the Rosetta Stone, and in the early 19^th century, Egyptology was born when its early scholars were able to decode part of the stone and realized it was an incredible and complex combination of phonetic, figurative, and symbolic code rolled into one. You can read them phonetically—from left to right, right to left, or from top to bottom—to get one meaning, independent of the pictures themselves. Read this way, there are about 24 letters, without the kind of vowels we have in English, blank spaces between words, or even punctuation. The reader has to figure out which direction to read the letters. For example, if animals or humans appear in the hieroglyphs, and if they face towards the left, then you should read the script left to right. If you don’t want to read it phonetically, you can also read it according to the pictoral images, considered as nouns. In that way, there are at least 5,000 symbols, which have both direct meanings or indirect ones. So for example, a roll of papyrus could represent books or it could represent ideas, depending on the context. 

An ancient relief records how ancient Egyptian workmen moved
a massive statue from one place to another.

Egyptians hieroglyphs have fascinated us for so long, it’s no wonder they have made their way into so many films and novels. Just as with the ancient pharaohs who used them on their cartouches (those stone tablets enclosing a sovereign’s name or emblem) and pyramids to appease the gods. Used mostly by priests, hieroglyphs were even considered the “words of god.” So too, we continue to associate these ancient symbols with magical, mystical elements, much like the ankh, which infuses them with eternal life.

Leaving Footprints, Taking Memories

High Camp. Mera Peak, Nepal

During the 90’s and the 00’s, I worked in the tourism industry, specializing in trekking and mountaineering around the world. The two companies I worked for were forerunners in eco-tourism—they turned their office practices from paper files to electronic ones before it was commonplace, and they made sure every staff member in the office and out in the field, adhered to a strict code of ethics regarding low-impact tourism. 

This method of conducting business now seems standard with adventure tour companies around the world. Sure, there are a few that disgrace the industry, but I can happily say, most of the companies I’ve dealt with have embraced the philosophy of looking after the pristine environments people pay big bucks to visit. A quick search of the web will reveal a wealth of companies all stating they are eco-friendly, offer low-impact tourism, and so on, but how does one distinguish the truth from the sales pitch? 

Here’s a list of points to consider when deciding which company to book with next time you want to undertake adventure travel in the wilderness:

Does the travel company have a responsible tourism policy? Every company will have a different policy, but the types of things a company should do is make sure the natural and cultural values of the host region are not compromised. A lot of responsible companies work closely with conservation and rehabilitation groups to ensure the area travelled to is not under any threat from outsiders. If you ask for details, the company should be able to provide them for you.

What is the company’s level of engagement with the locals? Companies should employ local staff, services, and suppliers where possible. This approach assists in sustaining local business, bringing income to the local communities, and growing the region overall. It also reduces the carbon footprint by ensuring people and goods are not brought into the region when they’re not necessarily needed. 

Is a cultural exchange encouraged? The travel company should encourage and provide opportunities for the locals and visitors to interact and get to know each other.

What contributions does the company make to the host community? Some companies have special projects in which their employees and/or travelers, spend time in disadvantaged communities to help upgrade facilities such as education, water access, and health. You should also check if the company funnels money into the community for projects such as educating the locals about conservation or health. This information is usually easy to find as most travel companies are happy to promote their involvement, and it’s not uncommon for well-respected companies to have endorsements from organizations such as the World Wide Fund for Nature, or to have been nominated for awards because of their eco-tourism practices.

Uros Islands, Peru

Does the company offer cultural guidelines? Because some parts of the world have strict religious or cultural rules, a responsible company should provide all travelers with a list of what is and isn’t acceptable, in travelling to those regions. The tour guide should ensure that every traveler adheres to these guidelines.

How frequent are the tours and how big are the groups? Check to see if the company runs trips that have small numbers of participants, and how often the tours are. If the company runs trips on a weekly basis and the groups are large, chances are, they’re not considering the impact of tourism on the environment. For example, the growth of the trekking industry in Nepal has resulted in some regions being trashed because of too many trekkers. Eco-friendly companies have gone in to help clean up the mess, and a lot have banded together to petition the government to limit the amount of trekkers a region can have per year. 

Online forums: These are the perfect place to garner information from people who have been there and done that. People on these forums are usually happy to share their experiences, and by asking detailed questions, you’ll quickly learn if the company you’re considering is eco-friendly. Beware of review sites, though, as people who frequent those are usually disgruntled customers who may have a slightly skewed view. It’s usually easy to tell who is complaining because they can, or if someone has a genuine reason. The secret is to ask lots of questions to lots of people so you can get a good idea as to how a particular company fares when it comes to eco-friendliness.

Alli and guide near Aswan, Egypt

When I lived in Peru years ago, the Inca Trail was choc-a-bloc year round. There were no restrictions, and people could go it alone or travel with a local tour company. Some of these companies were dodgy and you could tell they’d been through the area by the amount of rubbish left behind. But the government finally wised up a few years back and put restrictions as to how many people can walk the trail at one time. Now it’s limited to 500 trekkers for the multi-day hike and permits need to be booked months in advance, whereas before 2002, anyone could rock up the day before and get a permit. The only way to trek the Inca Trail these days is by booking with a licensed tour company or employing a registered guide. The hard-core travelers have complained for years about it, but after witnessing the destruction of non-monitored trekking, I agree with the government. As always with life, it only takes a few inconsiderate people to destroy it for everyone else.

So next time you’re considering a trip into the wilds, do some research, ask lots of questions, and enjoy your adventure, happy in the knowledge you’re doing your bit to preserve the culture and nature of your chosen destination.