welcome in egypt

Before I get started, the title of my blog is the all too common way that a tout will introduce themselves to you, and has become a kind of an inside joke amongst the expat community. Anyway, I'm wrapping up my last day in Cairo - in 30 minutes I need to catch a taxi to the train station for my overnight train to Aswan - and I have to say that I'm pleased with what I've managed to accomplish over the last four days.

When I landed, I was prepared for a battle with the cab drivers on the fare into town. Taxis in Egypt are cheap by Western standards, but because drivers see Westerners as little more than money bags with legs, they do everything they can to take advantage of their naivete and lack of haggling skills. After working at it for a while, I managed to make it into town in a rusted out Peugeot for around the upper range of the reasonable price - 65E, about $13 - and after spending another 10E£ on a 30 second phone call from the prestigious Semiramis Intercontinental Hotel, I met up with my friend Brenden. Brenden studied abroad in Cairo, and now finds himself back here for Co-Op, and he was nice enough to offer me a spare room in his gigantic apartment. An apartment this size, in what is one of the nicest parts of Cairo, would probably cost upwards of $12,000/month in Boston (size and location accounted for). Instead, I think he's paying somewhere below $900/month, split four ways. Still, for the pollution and the constant harassment of Westerners, no price is low enough for me to imagine living here.

Anyway, I set myself up, before heading out into town with Brenden to meet up with some of his coworkers. On the way we picked up some Falafal (my first experience with this famous Middle Eastern export) as well as what I'm calling "Bean Paste in Pita". Both were quite tasty, and for 5E£ for four, even McDonalds can't beat a $0.50 meal (especially here in Egypt, but that's another story). We met up with Brenden's coworkers in a part of town famous for its cafes dolling out plenty of tea and sheshaw (the Egyptian Water Pipe) to the old men immersed in their backgammon. The occasion for our gathering was to say goodbye to Ahmed, one of the guys Brenden was working with. Ahmed was leaving the next day for America, where he would rejoin his wife (who he hasn't seen in three years) in Detroit. It was a really good introduction to authentic modern Egyptian culture, and I stayed up late into the night gradually getting better at backgammon.

Before the night was over, I was taken to one of the local drinking establishments were I experienced Stella (not to be confused with the similarly-spelled Belgian: Stella) which is most definitely the worst beer in the world. Next, it was on to the rooftops of Cairo to look out at the chaotic morass churning below us, before giving into Americana (and hunger) with a visit to Hardee's for double cheeseburgers. The "night" finally came to a close with the 5:15 call to prayer.

The next day Brenden took me to try some more local delicacies, before heading off to work at noon (which is just something that people do here in Egypt.) I spent the rest of the daylight hours at the Egyptian National Museum. The Museum is world-renowned both for the volume of its Ancient Egyptian collection, and for the disorganized manner in which it is presented. Wooden boxes with priceless artifacts are wedged between glass display cases whose labels were clearly written on a 1920's era typewriter. The floorplan is sound, but the arrangement of the pieces often leads visitors seeking to see everything into a hedge maze-esque experience. Pharaoh-overload is a common diagnosis for the lethargic Westerners slumped on the staircases, and guided tours crowd out the most important pieces.

Taking it easy with a Sphinx outsite the museum... no camera were allowed inside.

But for all of this, I thought it was great. The disorganization that so many find frustrating felt, to me, authentic. It was like going through a collection of artifacts freshly shipped over on a turn-of-the-century steamer. Indiana Jones, arguing with the curator about the presentation of a piece he had just recovered, would seem perfectly in place with the surroundings. And there's nothing like a 110 kilogram solid-gold sarcophagus to shake you out of Pharaoh-overload. Tutankhamen's treasures, which I have seen so often in just about every book ever illustrated on Egypt, were unforgettable to come across in person.

Unfortunately, I'll have to leave it off there. There's much more to write about Cairo, but I'm already 15 minutes over my time allotment, and I need to catch a train to Aswan. I'll be sure to finish this as soon as I have an Internet connection!