Ahlan wa Sahlan bikum ilaa Misr

Jump to Comments

It would stand to reason that in a city that gets about 25 mm of rain annually, that it would rain the day I arrive in Cairo.

 I’m happy report that the rain did not damper my spirits in the least. In fact, as Cairo is notoriously polluted, the rainfall probably eliminated much of the characteristic smog.

I made myself stay awake as we crossed the Mediterranean, wanting to see the African continent as we approached our final destination. My first observation was that Egypt is a land of quadrilaterals. Urban blobs are dolloped amidst carefully planed, equal sized plots of land that grid across the landscape until hindered by either desert or cities. Houses stand solitary and abandoned, while others boast huge parks and swimming pools. Even from 25,000 feet, you can see the huge difference between rich and poor.

The ride to dorm from the airport was one of the most unique experiences of my life. Deciding to ignore the traffic and let the driver handle our fates, my biggest problem became which window to look out of: left or right. It’s too much to digest, certainly in one car trip. I’m not sure I’ll have digested much before my four months are up, either. Suffice it to say, I love this place.

Cairo (what little I’ve seen of it) is everything I expected it to be. It’s crowded, traffic regards no lanes, the houses are all at once grimy and decrepit, glamorous and dignified (depending on what neighborhood you’re in). I’m hoping to meet some more Egyptians, though I’ve heard the AUC students are less likely to make friends with study abroad kids, as they’re just going to leave in a few months anyway. Part of the furniture. Though, if the man who processed my passport is any indication, I think I’ll get along fine. (After saying massah al-kheer, and chatting with him about being a student of Islamic Studies and Arabic (wa lakin lasti muslima, ya Allison!), he said that he hoped to see me again soon. Oh Egyptian men.) That, and the AUC representative said he liked my Arabic. “I have confidence in me.”

 I’m living in Zamalek, a delta in the middle of the Nile where the embassies and foreign neighborhoods are located. It’s peppered with small hole-in-the-wall shops and restaurants, though I was taken slightly aback to see a sign for Siemen’s furniture as we turned off the highway.

(Zamalek)

I can now say that I am indeed a traveller. I had a crawling feeling in my stomach over the past day as I bumbled my way awkwardly and uncertainly through airports (trying to look completely certain and certainly not awkward). After rolling my two unwieldly bags over a business man’s expertly polished shoe at JFK (again), exasperating flight attendants with my indecision between coffee or tea, and planting myself in the wrong seat on the airplane, I decided that I was just going to have to accept the fact that I was out of place, if only just for now.

So as I settled down on the plane, unable to sleep, I read Wuthering Heights while mentally noting how much of the Egypt Air announcements I could glean. After chastising an unnamed Egyptian boy for trying to steal my complimentary cookie (3ib, ya walad!) and chatting to his mother in careful (but steady) Arabic, I have confidence that I’ll orient myself just fine.

After I get some sleep.

3 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized