Egyptian
dispatches: CAIRO | LUXOR | SINAI | OASES
DISPATCH: Cairo, Egypt
May 15, 1997
Salaam aleikum from your faithful Egyptian correspondent, missing
each of you ever more the closer I get to coming home. With Toshiba in
the lotus of my lap, I sit eight floors above the cacophony of downtown
Cairo: John Cage on horns, Zappa on snares and neon, and sixteen million
inhabitants of this monstrous town on nicotine, caffeine, grease and
sugar: the four major food groups of the Egyptian national diet. When
the muezzin call out at this altitude it is in SurroundSound, an
auditory hallucination of mystical proportions, fervent prayer for
deliverance the only humane and immediate response.
My spacious room is in the northeast corner of an old deco building
with ceilings fifteen feet high. The two sets of tall French doors are
propped open wide, urban tree-house style: an expansive view of the
ever-changing light is mine with the movement of an eye. To the
immediate east squats the local synagogue. I look down on its dome and
the white-uniformed guards shouldering big guns, uneasy reminders of
godless global fears. The floors are swathed in my as yet un-shipped Siwan kilims (a logistic and economic nightmare) and a cool breeze
ruffles the papers on the other two beds.
This city is beginning to remind me of some Egyptian men: initially
irritating with their aggressive, loud behavior, questionable hygiene
and ever-present clouds of smoke, they eventually exude an exotic charm,
appealing unpredictability and sense of humor that approaches the
irresistible. In fact, Cairo's soft underbelly turns out to be the
people who live here. The more of them I get to know, Egyptians and
ex-pats alike, the harder it is each time to leave.
♦
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