Contest Entry for The Writer's Cramp. |
The Last Time I Was In Cairo The Nile River is not only the life line of Egypt. It flows inside each and every Egyptian. Being away from my country, Egypt, I pine for it. The Nile that runs through my veins forces flashes of my happy childhood upon me. I think about my family, the long walks along the Nile shore in Cairo watching the sparkle of boats’ lights in the night, and most of all the smile of the kind people of Egypt. Strangely enough, and unlike most foreigners, I never dwell upon the pyramids, or the Pharaohs. Egypt for tourist is not the same Egypt I grow up in. A year ago, a mix of my mother’s naggings for me to come visit and the longing that dwelled inside of me lead me to book a plane ticket. Naturally, I was thrilled throughout my drive to the airport, I was okay going through the usual ‘random’ check Arabs get in airports, and I was fine receiving strange glares from the elderly woman sitting next to me in the plane. It was all worth it; I was finally going back to Cairo. When I arrived at Cairo, I started searching for a taxi to drive me home. I walked by next to each black and white cap asking in Egyptian-Arabic dialect for a ride. You would have thought they would help a fellow Egyptian… “Sorry, not working,” The eleventh taxi driver puffed smoke into my face. I sighed remembering one basic rule in Egypt; Foreigners are treated much better because they are expected to pay much more. I coughed as I approached the next taxi, and then I blurted out a half a dozen complicated words in English. “American?” The driver asked me smiling. “Yes!” I replied inwardly asking God to forgive me for lying and denouncing my nationality, and yet thanking him for my colored eyes. He smiled, got out, and carried my bags for me. The next day, I decided to be adventurous and go to the bazaars in Khan El Khalili situated in the old Islamic district of Cairo. After being stuck in traffic for about an hour, I reached one of Cairo’s main attractions. I used to pass by it everyday on my way to college, but the last time it tasted different after the long wait. I walked in narrow paths surrounded with shops on my left and right. Hand-made brass artifacts shined under the hue of spot light in night. Old vendors warmly smiled at me advertising their goods. A man held up a Tabla, an Egyptian drum, and tabbed his hand against the hand of the instrument playing a tone accustomed to our weddings. Then he joked with me about how a pretty girl like me should be already married. I smiled knowingly; he was trying to flatter me into buying the Tabla. I did, but not before bargaining for a full fifteen minutes; He started with a ridiculously high price, and I insisted on absurdly low price. We both knew that our prices were unrealistic, but bargaining runs in the blood of Egyptians after all. Later on, after buying souvenirs for my friends abroad, I sat with my buddies in a traditional coffee shop. I crossed one leg over the other taking in the interaction of tourists and vendors that was happening infront of me. I heaved a sigh full of the aroma of shisha smoke (Egyptian water pipe), and beamed. I really did miss Egypt. Sure, I didn’t go to the pyramids or any tourist destination for the rest of my visit. In fact, I spent the rest of the week looking after business, complaining about how long-winded and tedious looking after business was in Egypt, and whining about how I hated having my family stick their noeses in my business like Egyptian families do. Now I am back in the other side of the world, and I don’t have everyone's uninvited opinions imposing on my private matters anymore. Nonetheless, that freakin Nile that runs inside of me keeps badgering me. It keeps compelling me to long for Egypt, and for my home in Cairo. I want to bargain, and have a street vendor I don’t even know bestow his unwanted opinion about my private life. I crave the aroma of shisha, and complaining about how people keep littering in the Nile. The last time I was in Cairo, I became aware of the love/hate relationship I have with my country. Till the next time… |