Escaping Hoda

The uncomfortably cold weather in Amman became unbearable a couple weeks ago. Space heaters and plastic-covered windows were no match for the record-breaking winter storm that was blowing through. Most people with typical, uninsulated apartments in Amman, certainly myself included, were essentially camping in their homes. Everyone hysterically stocked up on bread, canned food, and candles before hurrying home to huddle under blankets with sweaters and scarves. That makes it sound cozier than it actually was. What this weather really means is that one cannot sleep with any skin exposed to the air. Also, considering that 20 minutes of rain derails everything in Amman, you can imagine the havoc that was wreaked by two days of heavy snow, hail, and strong winds. My flight to Cairo was scheduled during the middle of this storm, ‘Hoda.’ There were no threats of flight cancellations, remarkably, but officials were considering shutting down the road to the airport the night before my flight. I was calling cabbies but none of them were willing to drive in the snow, no matter how much I offered to pay them. They advised me to postpone my flight because the drive would be too dangerous. I tried one last number at 11pm and talked to Jamal. His only response to my questions was ‘Inshallah,’ which I had no choice but to consider a ‘yes.’ At 4:30 the next morning I call and wake him up to see if he’s on his way.

 “Inshallah.” 

I am completely stunned when I head outside with my luggage and see snow covering everything with drifts so high on the sidewalk that I need to drag my luggage down the middle of the road. I finally find Jamal and help wipe the snow off his cab before we head out. We go slow and take a back road to the airport and I try to convey to him just how grateful I am. He really was my savior.

We get to the airport with hours to spare and the flight was on time-- actually the only flight I have ever had with EgyptAir that left on schedule. The trip is under an hour and a half so I arrive in Cairo in the morning. Because of my experience in Egypt in 2008 I am anticipating scammers at the airport, harassment, unbearable traffic, crowds, and pollution. Bracing myself for these things certainly made it all easier to deal with and I managed to find a reasonably-priced cab outside the airport. Although the cab ride was fairly cheap I was expected to tip every person involved in the process-- the man who approached me at the airport and walked me to the parking lot, then the one who put my bags in the trunk, and finally the driver himself. They would all say, “Don’t I get a tip?!” Bathroom attendants would teach me a few Arabic phrases and then hold out their hands saying, “A little money?” On the upside, even tipping every person comes out to only a few Egyptian pounds, well under a dollar. 

I did not know what to expect from Egypt this time around, but after just a few minutes in the cab I started to see all the positive ways that Cairo is different from Amman and I was smitten. I should really emphasize at this point that I cannot help but compare everything to Amman, a comparison that makes Cairo seem much more dazzling than it might be for someone coming from the U.S. or Europe. This relativism is especially important when I am talking about the food, the architecture, and the natural beauty. With that in mind, the buildings were what first struck me because of the variety and the fact that there were decorative aspects to many of them. Despite the fine dust that coats every surface in Cairo, indoors and out, corners of the city are colorful. From the bright laundry hanging out of the windows to store signs and the occasional gaudy buildings. There were even more trees than I expected. Streets that could maybe see a half hour of direct sunlight each day had palm trees and shrubs. 

Cairo is notorious for being overcrowded--the capital and its surrounding suburbs constitute the most populous city in Africa. Rather than seeing this in the amount of traffic and pollution, of which there is plenty, I saw it in alleys and shops. Each glance out the window of the cab would reveal another microcosm of Cairo life: Motorcycles of all shapes and colors speeding past with women riding sidesaddle on the back, young men rolling tires to a repair shop, women slapping the dust out of rugs while a cat gnaws on discarded chicken bones. Every crevice was full of life and each scene was like flipping the pages of a pop-up book or opening all the windows of an advent calendar at the same time. 

The AirBnB I rented was in Dokki, a nice neighborhood on the west side of the Nile. For $40 a night I got a three bedroom, three bathroom penthouse with two balconies, an absurd amount of furniture, and an out-of-tune piano. 

I wandered around the neighborhood to find some food and everyone I came across was remarkably friendly and no one tried to rip me off. I know it may be unfair to expect anything else from Egyptians, but given my previous experience there it was hard to not be a little surprised. Over the next few days I walked to Zamalek, the location of the American University where the CASA program is supposed to be held, and across the Nile to Tahrir Square and Egypt’s National Museum. Walking around this area on a Friday close to the anniversary of the revolution meant that security was really tight. It may be like that most of the time but a cab driver said that security was high on Fridays because of potential protests. There was barbed wire lining all the streets, ready to be pulled into intersections. There were large armored vehicles with soldiers wearing ski masks manning their mounted machine guns. Those were followed by paddy wagons. Needless to say, I was dying to take pictures but I am confident I would have been promptly thrown in jail if I had.

Above is the Nile, the National Museum, and the burned-out remnants of Hosni Mubarak’s National Democratic Party headquarters, which is quite literally a stone’s throw away from the National Museum. It is an imposing presence along the Nile and I do not know what the future of that building is or if there is any desire to even tear it down. Like many other buildings in Cairo, it may stay there for years. 

http://www.businessweek.com/articles/2014-01-29/a-bombed-out-buffer-zone-sought-for-king-tut-at-cairo-egyptian-museum

The inside of the National Museum was amazing-- massive sculptures, 3800-year-old boats, and countless mummies and sarcophagi. The museum is poorly-lit, dusty, and disorganized. I think this is largely because of poor upkeep, but also because there is just a massive amount of artifacts to deal with. There are so many sarcophagi that some are strewn along the outside of the museum. For every glass case of lapis lazuli scarab beetles on display there are fifteen drawers of them underneath that are not for public viewing. Unfortunately, photography is prohibited in the museum and I had to check my camera at the door. I had my phone though, so here are a few of the bad pictures I was able to get.

 

Mummified humans and other animals, including a crocodile with its tiny baby next to it from around 700 B.C.E.

Overall, the museum was definitely worth the visit but it would be impossible to see every display and it does get boring after a while. Once you’ve seen one mummy, you’ve seen them all. 

The absence of foreigners in Egypt was most notable at the National Museum. Aside from the pyramids, the museum is probably the most touristy place in Cairo, and it was clearly lacking the overweight, ignorant, and easily-exploited Americans that were such an integral part of the Egyptian economy. 

On this night, like most nights in Egypt, I ate koshari. I never understood the appeal of koshari before as Egypt’s national food. It is a mix of macaroni, noodles, chickpeas and lentils with a light tomato sauce and crispy onions on top. It is hard to get excited about it but I realized on this trip that it is a pretty good comfort food that fills you up fast and carries little to no risk of food poisoning (which is obviously important to me when eating cheap street food in a new country). Some koshari also comes with really spicy sauce, something that is hard to find in Jordan.

The next day I saw Cairo’s Coptic (Orthodox Christian) neighborhood. It was a beautiful area and very calm. There is a wall that surrounds much of the neighborhood but it is hardly isolated since just outside the walls are busy neighborhoods with a number of mosques whose call to prayer echoes throughout the the Coptic district. We arrived there by cab and had a very entertaining driver. He was Coptic himself and used to be a florist in Italy before returning to Cairo. He would mix his Arabic with Italian and English, referring to “the bambino Jesus” and “Cattolicesimo.” It was a confusing conversation because he seemed to think we understood Italian better than Arabic. He then pointed to a large group of nondescript white people walking down the street and said, “Israelis!”

“How do you know they’re Israelis?”

“From how they look.” He then tried to convince us that the meter read 20 pounds when it very clearly displayed 12 and after a shouting match outside the church we agreed that it was 15. I visited five or six churches, the Coptic Museum, a synagogue (photography prohibited, unfortunately), and wandered around the narrow alleys. The churches seem to mostly be located below street level, which is said to be because the land surface has risen more than six meters since they were built. 

Depictions of Saint George are everywhere in this neighborhood. He seems to be their most revered saint. There is also a lot of imagery of ‘the hermit,' the naked man with the beard who is a saint, but I am not sure which one. The bottom picture is of the Fortress of Babylon, which I thought would be in Iraq, not Egypt, but apparently there is more than one Babylon and this one was built by the Romans around year 100. While wandering around the narrow streets we would come across guards who would direct us where to go and what places were closed or open. They did not speak to us but just gestured, even when I spoke Arabic to them. Later I learned that they are mute. Apparently it is common for deaf-mutes to work in communities like this where minimal interaction is required. In Egypt overall, I saw more sign language than I have in any other Arab country. I was curious to see if there was one form of sign language for this region but of course, this is what I find: 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_sign_languages#Middle_East

Here are also some pictures of the Coptic graveyard, which I thought was beautiful:

 

Before heading to Alexandria in the early afternoon, I was taking out the trash from the apartment when I ran into the doorman who asked if I had been there all morning.
"Yeah, why?"
"Because the police are looking for you."
"Why?"
"They're doing tafteesh (like an inspection/investigation). They heard there were foreigners in the area and they want to talk to you and copy your passports."
"Well that's not happening. I'm leaving to Alexandria now."
"They're going to do the same to you there. Just watch out for the people in the streets and be careful who you talk to."

I wish I had some explanation for what this was all about. It may be that the police were just concerned for our safety since they see so few foreigners these days and they wanted copies of our passports in case something happened. Even so, it made me uncomfortable and I was glad I was leaving right away. Here is Cairo's Ramses Train Station: