Lost Luggage, Found City

Cairo / Trasporti
en di Nile-Living /  Sarah A. Topol, 22. mar 2009


Photo: Paul Schlacter

I boarded my flight in Washington DC, a pill for fear of flying and three Bloody Marries later I woke up in Frankfurt, only to repeat. When I finally stumbled into the Cairo Airport, my excitement to be in the city I’d dreamt about was tempered by a hangover and the news that while I had made it, my luggage had not.


Photo: Thoth188

I met Cairo in the throng of passengers queuing with similar complaints at a ramshackle desk on one side of the luggage claim area. Egypt altered that very statement, so when I say ‘queue,’ I mean frenzied mob, and when I say ‘claim area’ I mean small table staffed by 10 men, all standing around talking on phones and drinking tea, leading what seemed to be an agonizingly slow-paced existence. In fact, the chain-smoking airport staff seemed genuinely nonplused by our collective anxiety to be in a new country without our belongings.


Photo: Gavin Bell

After some time, my passport number was taken. I was told I would be contacted tomorrow, when my luggage arrived, insha’allah.*

[*This would be the first of many encounters with the term ‘God Willing,’ used after every declarative statement in Arabic. “I will fix your pipes [which for 5 straight days have been spewing chalk colored water,] tomorrow, insha’allah.” “See you tomorrow at 2pm, insha’allah.” “You’re internet will work in 12 hours, insha’allah.” In Cairo, no one can be blamed if something doesn’t happen the way it was promised, because if God didn’t will it, who are you to blame the plumber?]


Photo: Hossam all line

Little did the airport staff know, but it had been one of my secret desires to have my luggage ‘lost,’ along with other surreptitious wishes like getting stuck in an elevator, putting myself through boot camp, and other absurd notions involving testing myself.

I marched to the Lufthansa office to demand monetary compensation for my ‘troubles.’ Honestly, I had nothing better to do than see if I could finagle money out of a corporation. I had come to Egypt with no plans, only infinite time and limited savings. I was pleasantly surprised when my request was granted.


Photo: Yuankuei

The fifty dollars they gave me was more than enough to pay for my cab ride into Downtown to my hostel in the heart of the city. I immediately bought a toothbrush and a t-shirt embossed with the hieroglyphic alphabet and began waiting. The next day my luggage didn’t come. Nothing the following day. I waited 3 days before my luggage arrived.

I’ve been here for 6 months now and nothing has changed. Except now I realize how lucky I was that it only took 3 days.



In the last 6 months, I’ve both loved and hated Cairo. Teeming with character, torn between modernity and tradition, dancing to a cacophonic symphony of traffic and beeping horns, the city is more complex than I’ll ever be able to understand, but I’m learning and have no intention of leaving. Insha’allah.

Go further: Strange things I heard my first days in Prague

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Nile-Living