There they are running – but nobody notice them

We had once more a ride to the temple of Hatshepsut. This time in a special service taxi chartered only for us. This time we didn't like to visit the queen, but we came for reasons of sports. The parking lot was the place for starting and finishing the 10. Luxor marathon. We liked to see winners and others, who took part only to enjoy the race.

Almost while we have the journey we see runners in the streets, accompanied by children from the villages who also get in their way. No guard is seen anywhere. Only some police cars are riding opposite the direction of the for the runners designed one way street. They look as if they don't know where to got to. As if the officers were searching for spectators. But they couldn't find somebody, except the children.

About one kilometre up to the finishing line the driver slows down. Buses with tourists battle their way through the road blocks, the drivers look as they are at the end of their's tether, the tourist are bored-looking. The runners climb up the last gradient. Hobby runners who decided to go only the short distances of twelve or 22 km. Suddenly there is some noise backwards in the car, we have three new passengers everyone with a number on his running shirt. Only one hundred metres up to the finishing line somebody knocks on the window to the cabine of the driver – it means: Stopp!!! Then they jump off, sprint up to the finish line. If they run a personal record we never discovered. Sports in Egyptian way.

The softly but continually rising road up to the parking lot, in sight of the marvellous temple of queen Hatshepsut. Normally spectators should cheer to the runners, give them applause to help them to finish the race. An applause which should be weel-earned even by the 500. reaching the finishing line. But only bare rocks, the screes, the detritus of the cliffs are silent witnesses of all the supreme efforts of the athlets.

 

The finishing area. Hundreds of children from villages around had smelled that there will happen something. A disco, run by the mobile company Vodaphone, plays nerve-breaking noisy the latest hits. Some children are dancing, they feel happy. And they are chasing the exhausted runners. "Bakshish?" "Pen?" Caps, drinks are suddenly gone with the hands of these children. Some athlets make a quick getaway, faster nearly than on the track before. Meanwhile the tourists are following their program. Is something happening only 50 metres away??? Something takes place in distance – but nobody notice, nobody tells. Only the kids may see it live.

By the time Rolf D. Raima (picture right), General Manager of the El Gouna based "Steigenberger Golf Resort", becomes nervous. Since three years he is the stadium announcer, has to tell the spectators about the arriving runners. But the kids are not interested, only some companions to runners listen carefully.

"There he is. The first marathon runner," Raima shouts to the microphone. Somebody whispers the number in his ear. Bad luck for Raima: the starting lists are not written in the order of the numbers but in alphabetical order of the names. How to find no. 109 within the lines printed on three A4-pages if you don't know the name of the athlete? Raima is succesful. "Salama Ahmed Al Akran (picture buttom left) from Jordan," he sends the message through the speakers. The policeman wins the men's race with 2:28,29 h, a good time for the 42.195 km.

More difficulties appear to Raima with the following runners. They pass the finishing line before he could find their names in the list which for a speaker is in a completly wrong order. Meanwhile two television teams record an interview with the winner. But this news about his success will not make world headlines.

But then Raima is again lucky. The first lady runner is coming. Number 218. Her legs turned to jelly but she crossed the finishing line. "Oana Chiemi from Japan," announces Raima. Then Chiemi collapses, hurt by cramps in the mussles of her legs (picture down left). She needs to sit down on a chair in the shadow. Children throng around her till finally some guards send them packing: "Emshi!!!" And Raima announces: "New course record! Congratulations!" The Japanese lady breaks as the first woman the three-hours-border within the Luxor marathon, finishes after 2:57,54 h, 2.45 minutes faster than the last year winner. A little bit later Raima gives up. "The loudspeakers are broken", he says, still smiling but with resignation in his face.

Slowly the runners finish the race, some together in little groups, some alone. Then suddely we feel some hectic atmosphere within the official area. Organizer Gerd Engel from Stendal steps to Raima: "Presentation ceremony at 11.30? Okay?" Must be okay. Because high ranking guests are announced. The Governor of Luxor, General Desouki El Banna, will come for the presentation ceremony. Well behaved some children from the West Bank show him folklore dancing. After this the general, surrounded by policemen and officials, takes his way to the victory rostrum, shakes hands with the winners of the several kinds of race. And everytime a little big band plays the well known part from opera "Aida".

Suddenly the governor is gone. Did he notice that this event didn't attract any tourists to come to Luxor as spectators? Did he notice, that there must be something wrong in the way of public relation? That again a chance was missed to cover Luxor in a attractive way to people in Egypt and abroad?

One after the other the runners are coming in. Meanwhile they need more than four hours. Hobby runners of every age. They all like to fulfill their ambitions. "He will need about one hour more," one German lady says waiting for her husband and hoping he will finish. Also the brother of Rolf Raima, Adolf, arrived. "He looks better than last year," Rolf says happy and takes his brother in his arms. His two daughters finished the half distance this year. All these runners are looking to prove themselves. All of them got through a personal challenge. And only this will count at the end.

After a long time we start to leave the place where people revel in personal success. On the way down from Hatshepsut temple an American couple comes towards. Both doing a relaxed jog. They are meanwhile about six hours on the run. Some Americans, also on the way to the valley, embrace them some 400 metres up to the finishing line. "This will be no match for you!" And the couple finishes as we watch from the distance. Not noticed by spectators, without applause. Only the bare rocks pay them their silent respect. They followed a target: To succeed about running 42.195 km through desert and the farmland, passing ancient temples and tombs, visiting villages and sugar cane fields. And they succeeded – they reached the game of every marathon runner. But who will give up, when at the end the temple of Hatshepsut is luring for him? There can be no better symbol to reach your personal challenge.

It's a great pity that nearly nobody notice it... (Text Wolfgang Sliwka, Fotos Antje Sliwka)