I started writing this around 7 pm yesterday, which means that the
evening call to prayer happened at any moment. This beautiful call always strikes
me, and I stop whatever I am doing to look around me and see how people react.
Sometimes they act as though they never even heard it, or you see that they
were prepared as they hurry dutifully to the mosque on the nearest corner (and
there really is one on every corner). And when it is done, the city takes a
breath for a second before it goes back to its honking and shouting. But right
now, the air still feels like it is buzzing as night descends on the Victorious
City and I can’t help but have a surreal moment in realizing that finally, this
is real. And as I sit on my balcony, hair covered fully with a hijab (a style I
have adopted for about a week straight now), I realize that I really am worlds
away from where I once was.
There is no other way to put it lightly- Egypt is hard.
This doesn't come as a surprise to me at all; in fact, two
weeks ago I welcomed it. But I am sure now that I had forgotten what it feels
like to be challenged. I prepared as much as one can before I came; I read
books, I watched movies, I asked friends, I dreamed about this for months. But nothing quite compares
to that moment when you first walk out that airport door and see the vast
reality of your situation. And the situation is that I am not a tourist and
this is my new life.
As much as I prepared, I wish I could have taken into more
consideration the sheer amount of help in reality I needed. I came to Egypt
with some pretty huge assumptions in my head that I would be able to do a lot
of things by myself, big things like find an apartment or a job. I took pride
in being more than just a tourist, and I came with this determination within me
that I was certain I would figure it all out on my own. Quickly did I realize there
was a completely different course unfolding before me. And part of me hates to
admit to the struggles I am having, because after all, I am Ms. World-traveler,
but I cannot deny my own humanity. And I am learning that are extremely grand values in struggling.
This struggle comes down to a realization I am having; I
am truly helpless here. From walking down the street to buying eggs, I am at a total loss.
And even in wearing as possible layers as a person could, I still cannot escape
stares, cat-calls, and salespeople. I stopped eating because I forgot how to shop;
the souqs introduce a new shopping system at which I am clueless in navigating.
And it is continuously a tale of getting lost because I would not be caught
dead in downtown Cairo with a map. My skin and eye color scream tourist enough
as it is. I can hardly do basic things like take a bus let alone crucial things
like find a job.
But, thank god for the insurmountable kindness of Egyptians.
Despite my utter helplessness, I have survived up to this point, and I am
sitting proudly on the balcony of my own place with food enough to survive and
have been patiently taught all the ins and outs of taking a microbus (and still
trying to get the hang of that one). And the only reason I am not in some ditch
somewhere or on a plane back to the US is because I have some pretty fantastic
people looking out for me. I think this could even count as a season of life
for me; because two weeks ago I was Ms. Capable and Independent and now a three
year old Egyptian child is more independent than I am. I am learning to humbly
accept help, I am learning to ask questions, and be more fearless and bold. And
I am learning that I am imperfect, but in this world there are always those
that come alongside you in your time of need. It is a beautiful lesson, but not
an easy one to take.
Sometimes I feel like I am going forward, that I achieved
something or figured it out. But being in a place like Cairo, I have only
figured out that I should get rid of that assumption. Cairo changes from one
second to the next, you never know what will be around the corner. So maybe by the end of
this year I will know how to cross the street or buy an orange, but I am not
holding my breath hoping for it.
But don’t worry; now I will tell you all the good things I
have done too, and trust me there are lots of them. Naturally I went to the Great
Pyramids of Giza. It would have been an incredible time had tourism not been in
a persistent state of drought for the last year or so. People are desperate,
and with pale skin like mine I seem to have magnetic qualities. But, I can
scratch the oldest world wonder off my list. And it was breath-taking. And
while we were there, with the Giza Governorate kissing the border of the site,
Egyptian school children were busy climbing up and down stones thousands of years
old and taking pictures in their Levi Jeans and Nikes. It felt like some kind
of strange alternate reality.
I have wandered through countless terrains of Cairo. Maadi,
Coptic Cairo, Islamic Cairo, Nasr City, Tura….and I have only just started. Every
district, every Governorate, every block of apartments even has their own
atmosphere. And this city, man, it’s huge. People are stacked on top of each
other and this goes for miles out into the desert surrounding. I think they should change the saying from: “New
York- if you can make it here you can make it anywhere” to “Cairo- if you can
make it here, you win, for all time.” Insha’allah I will be able to boast that
say confidently soon.
I have been to countless mosques, steeped in beautiful
architecture and a peaceful calmness that is irresistible in a city constantly
in chaos. I have been welcomed with open arms into homes and had the treat of
seeing Cairenes let their hair down (literally) and feel like one of the
family. I have been charmed and sensory-overloaded on the streets of souqs far
older than the stock market. I have walked on the same ground that
revolutionaries have spilled their own blood on in dying for a cause they
believe in. I have been inspired as they tell me for themselves what they think
of their country, reminding me patiently that if anyone ever heard them say
this they would be detained and I would never see them again.
Beside the Egyptian Museum in Tahrir Square
I prayed my first
Friday prayer in a mosque and was lovingly shown the way to perform every gesture
and where to stand. A lovely thing in Islamic prayer especially when in a mosque is that it is
not right to stand in the back of the room like I tried to do. You are pulled
right into the line and people always come alongside you. I have moved to an
area full of Indonesian, Malaysian and Somali students or migrants. Though,
maybe in the middle of nowhere when considering Cairo, it makes me smile
because it also kind of feels like home with some many different faces around
me. I have eaten foods so incredibly good that I wish I could eat them everyday
(i.e. something called hawawshi- the equivalent of an Egyptian hot pocket) but
lucky for me I have no idea where this is in my neighborhood….yet.
(So good, so so good.)
But the coolest thing that has happened thus far is that I
have collected a group of grand people that take such good care of me without
me having to even ask. One day, when I was sitting in my hostel’s lobby after a
pretty good cry and feeling pretty sorry for myself, a friend invited me to
stay with his wife and his family. And then as relief washed over me, he said, “Don’t
worry, when you are a good person Allah sends you good people to be with you.” And
lately, that saying has only proven to be absolutely true. I do not know yet
how I can express my thanks to everyone that has helped me thus far, but it
makes me speechless when I think about it.
So Egypt- I still have lots to learn and lots to do with
you. And you have broken and challenged me in the best ways possible, but even
though you are tough, you also have loved me so well. So….the story goes on.
And for fun....here is what a hijab-ed Sarah looks like
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