High Speed Chases

I’ve been procrastinating writing because I know once I start I won’t be able to stop. My last week here has been so loaded - exploring Alexandria, a weekend in Cairo, learning Arabic, hours & hours of class about teaching English, and a nightly routine of hanging out with friends in shisha (hookah) bars. Plus the future schemes of Nile Valley excursions and scuba diving in Alexandria (sunken Napoleon battleship, Cleopatra’s Palace with columns and sphinx statues, and the Pharos lighthouse - one of the 7 Wonders of the Ancient World).

I’ve been happy to notice that I don’t live each day as fearfully as I did a week ago. I don’t hold my breath when crossing the street anymore, for example. Being a pedestrian is just a matter of precision and commitment. The driving in Alexandria is chaos at first glance, but now I see the dancing dynamic among cars and pedestrians more clearly. My friend Noelle described it as a constant game of chicken, each car fighting its way forward until the other gives in just an inch away from collision. In Cairo last weekend Ryan and I had a driver (generously provided for us by a friend of Dad’s coworker) for a whole day, who drove as if he was in an action movie high-speed chase. In the States he would have been considered a reckless asshole, but in Cairo he blended in with all the other honkers and opportunists. He seemed to be fighting with everyone and becoming their new best friend at the same time. At the citadel - the Muhammad Ali Mosque - he argued with the guards to chance an entry into the tour bus parking lot. Denied, he moved on to park where the tour buses pull over and wait, basically on the side of the highway. On the sidewalk, we passed a cop who had just put his fresh glass of tea down, and Moustafa (our driver) picked it up and took a sip. I’ve heard that sharing is a common concept in Egypt, but Mustafa seemed to have an extended interpretation. In thick traffic, he rolled down his window to borrow another driver’s lighter for his cigarette. Aside from our hilarious conversations with him in broken English, we could tell Moustafa was quite an entertaining character, making everyone around him laugh with his witty comments in Arabic.

The friend who provided us a tour with Moustafa for the day also took us to his daughter’s birthday party the night before and then put us up in a hotel. He and his entire family were incredibly welcoming and generous, so much that I felt guilty not knowing how to return their favors. All the young girls at the party spoke the most English and swarmed around us asking for our email and generally being irresistibly brown-eyed and adorable. The older girls (in their late teens and mid 20s) dragged us onto the stage and attempted to teach Ryan and me how to dance to modern Arabic music. Unfortunately my hips don’t detach from my body like theirs do, but they were so warm that my enjoyment miraculously overshadowed my extreme embarrassment, and we laughed and danced until 2 in the morning.

Another notable recent adventure was a day when Noelle and I deviated from our usual bus-home-after-class-and-play-Ultimate-frisbee-on-the-beach-then-go-out-for-falafel-and-tea-and-shisha. Instead we taxied to the Corniche (a main street along the beach) and ogled at the fishing boats and mosques and markets. The many comments we received from passersby included “Beautiful, wonderful” and “Welcome to Egypt!” plus the little boys who always yell, “How are youuu!” and “What is your naaame!” as they run by. My friend Tom always gets the comment, “What. Is. The. Time!!!!” screamed at him from little boys, but I haven’t witnessed that one yet. I think they’re just trying out their new English phrases from school. Today Noelle and I heard “I like you!” yelled from a car driving by as we walked to the grocery store.



Back to the Corniche - Noelle and I stumbled upon a long stretch of markets that were amazingly vibrant and entertaining. There were fruits, vegetables, nuts, and all kinds of animals - both alive and dead. Because we were headed to dinner, I didn’t pause in front of the severed goat heads or name-that-animal’s spine, but I did get some pictures of the live rabbits and chickens. Fortunately we could say “laa, shukran” (no, thanks) and escape the vendors’ solicitations. I am utterly loving learning the Arabic language. It’s a slow process but I get pleasure out of the interaction with Egyptian people that my limited vocabulary brings me. Last night I said “lo samaht” (excuse me) as Ryan and I squeezed past a couple guys as we were leaving a bar, and they called down the stairs to us in rapid Arabic asking, with intrigue, if we spoke Arabic. We laughed and said “shuwaya” (a little), but it made me realize how tickled Egyptians are to hear a blonde white girl speaking their language. The grocery store cashier today was trying very hard not to laugh at my accent, but his seemingly sincere smile also suggested that he enjoyed my attempt at a greeting in the first place. The welcoming vibes I have gotten since attempting to speak Arabic and interact with people have made Egypt start to feel like a beautiful, comfortable place.