Belly dancing and a JOINT STATEMENT

Sanjay Kapoor Sharm-El-Sheikh

We know what happened in Sharm-El-Sheikh this scorching summer.

Despite Egyptian obsession with security, this all-weather sea resort provided a picture postcard backdrop to India and Pakistan to smoke the peace pipe. Hence, the air was thick with expectations.

As the flight lowers its under-carriage you try to get a sense of where you have landed. Last rays of a fading sun are washing the distant red mountains and the lights of airport are compensating for the day that has gone by. As part of the media team you step out from the rear door of the aircraft that has brought Prime Minister Manmohan Singh to take part in this non-aligned summit. The airport has a fresh paint of white colour.

The air is warm, about 31 degrees Celsius - 11 degrees more than Paris from where this aircraft took off a few hours ago. The red carpet meant for the PM looks heavily used. Quite evidently, scores of heads of state had marked their presence on it. As we slip into the airport lounge we see the PM take his customary guard of honour. We are ready to move, but run into chaos. This is just the beginning. Obsessed with security, it is possible to sense personnel of the security agencies practically every where - plainclothes men hopelessly outnumbering those in uniform. We are rushed to waiting vans and asked to proceed to our hotel.

The security seems to be in a tizzy as the next head of state from some African country is expected shortly. Their hands move in jarring, exaggerated symphony: they tell our drivers to move and clear the road. The driver is in no hurry and answers in leisurely Arabic drawl something that suggests that he will go when the road clears.

We are on the highway to the city. Dusk has finally settled down and bright lit signs indicate direction and the government's promises.

"We will go green" one such hoarding suggests as we zip through a dark and treeless landscape. As we chuckle at the grandiosity of this vision in a parched and cheerless milieu, we are confronted by flat constructions on other side of the road. We are told by our Egyptian handler that these buildings are resorts that line the sea. A dark nothingness stares at us from other side of the road.
He tells us about Sharm-El-Sheikh's turbulent past. Located at the tip of the Sinai peninsula, Sharm was a sleepy fishing village of 100 inhabitants when the Israelis took over. Due to its strategic location, Israelis began to develop it as a naval base as well as a tourist destination. In 1982, Sharm-El-Sheikh was returned to Egypt, which continued to develop it as a diving and conference resort. Now it has 35,000 hotel rooms. In 2005, Sharm-El-Sheikh faced series of terror attacks allegedly by radicalised Bedouins who live at the periphery of the resort town.

The journey to the hotel is strange in a way. We speed on a particular road and then we take a U-turn and go through a police check. We go at a blazing speed and again we take another U-turn. Are we going in circles like an aircraft not getting permission to land? A short while later, we finally enter a tree-lined resort. So some part of Sharm has indeed gone green!

There is a furious engagement between the driver and the security guards manning the gates of Maritim resort. We do not know whether we are going forward or back. Our liaison officer punches some numbers on his phone and yells out "Pyramisa". The driver, too, ecstatically repeats Pryamisa and reverses his car.

Again, we hit the long road and go through its maniacal U-turns. It is difficult to ascertain the plan of the town that can only be negotiated through U and L-turns. We expect clear daylight to clear our confusion about the U-turns, but did it help?