Nile-Living

Lost Luggage, Found City

Sarah A. Topol — Sun, 22 Mar 2009 08:25:00 GMT

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

Anything Goes At The Friday Market

Sarah A. Topol — Sun, 05 Apr 2009 07:00:00 GMT

The recent bombing of one of Cairo’s most famous landmarks, Khan al-khalili, did not seem to bother other ex-pats nearly as much as it bothered me. Call it paranoia or a healthy desire to stay out of harm’s way, I haven’t been able to bring myself to go to the souk since the bombing. Luckily, I don’t need to visit the tourist oriented market when Cairo brims with more authentic alternatives.

The Souk el-Gomaa (Friday Market), under the El-Tonsi bridge, in the City of the Dead is by far the best glimpse into shopping in Egypt, the way the locals do it. Hawking everything and anything, the market sells antique furniture, broken computer screens, snakes, dogs, watches, cell phone batteries and probably anything else second-hand (rumored: stolen) you can imagine. Egyptians come from all over the city to buy whatever they need at the one-stop, massive-shop.

The sprawling souk is easily accessible by taxi, the way I reached it on Friday morning with a few friends. We arrived at 10, piling out of the taxi into the narrow lanes to be immediately surrounded by stalls of t-shirts, jeans, and shoes. The first part of the market sells new clothes for a fraction of the store price, but don’t expect the knock-off designer jeans of Asian markets, instead, this is a front row seat to Egyptian men’s fashion-- tight jeans and flashy neon t-shirts, complete with shiny black belts.

Sellers promote their wares any way they can: drums bang, music blasts from hidden speakers, men yell into megaphones and grab your arm as shoppers flood the lanes. If you don’t hold your ground, it’s easy to be swept away by the hurried mob.

The sprawling market is more organized than it first appears, grouped into sections of similar items. After the new clothes came stands upon stands of used shoes. Then, the highlight of the morning, the pet market. Exotic fish, lizards, and snakes, gave way to cages of parakeets and canaries, who chirped at the passersby, while red-eyed hawks spread their wings in attempts to escape their tiny cages.

Wooden crates crammed with tortoises on lettuce leaves stood one on top of the other. The opening quote on a small tortoise was 50 Egyptian pounds, a canary: 92le and a snake: 30le (1USD ~ 5.5le, this could probably be negotiated down to roughly half the initial price depending on the skill and patience of the bargainer).

When my friend asked who bought the snakes, the seller gave a mischievous grin, “Everyone!” He exclaimed and proceeded to explain snakes were cultivates for their eggs.

After the pet section, it was used-goods city. Stalls of hanging scooters next to toilets sans-seat, across from doorknobs resting on bed sheets alongside dead batteries. Decadent chandeliers suspended above cracked porcelain China.

If you were looking for something, you would find it. If you were looking for nothing, you could find anything. After our 3 hour excursion, I ended up with a broken pocket watch and a wallet. My friends with jewelry, old photographs, a pocketbook, a portrait of Gamal Nasser, and used books. If you are interested in seeing how Egyptians really shop, hunting for unusual bargains, can stand crowds, and have an aversion to bombs, there’s nowhere in Cairo like the Souk el-Gomaa.

**(It is advisable to go to the market early in the morning in a small group. Women should not go alone, and although I never felt like anyone would steal anything of mine, I had been warned to leave my valuables behind.)**

Moving And Shaking With Cairo's Own

Sarah A. Topol — Thu, 23 Apr 2009 07:48:00 GMT

April 29 is the International Dance Day. At Momondo we totally support a day dedicated to dancing and we've decided to celebrate the day too. Therefore we’ve asked our city bloggers to come up with their favourite spots to go and dance or watch others do it. So put on your boogie shoes and let our bloggers guide you through the best dance spots in cities across the world.

Let's dance #1: Cairo

Photo: Liber

Aside from historic belly dancing Cairo is not well known for its moves, but the glitz and glamour of Cairo’s upper class has not escaped the influence of Britney Spears, who sometimes moves her stomach, but mostly emanates the kind of sexuality considered ‘haram’ in the more conservative Middle East. Arab pop singers have been known to bust a scandalous move in a music video or two, but you won’t find that kind of dancing on just any street or in any Egyptian bar.

If you feel like letting loose, Cairo offers a few choice spots. I chose to embrace my longing to move at the Cairo Jazz Club, which alternates nights of live music with Djs mixing on turntables.

Inside the lights are dim, music thumps out of stacked speakers, and the crowd sways to the funk stylings of one of Cairo’s better known live bands ‘Wust El Balad.’ The club is decked out with long polished wooden tables, brown/orange burnish walls, cushions on couches and chairs patterned with orange and red zebra stripes that oscillate like they, or you, are on hallucinogens. My favorite feature is the lighting; Cairo Jazz Club is lit by colored glass lights on the ceiling and walls that evoke childhood memories of Mancala chips.

Travelers, ex-pats, and well-off Egyptians (read: burly men who just have to be hitting the gym hopped up on ‘roids’ more often than they should and women dressed quite differently than what you see on the street) literally rub shoulders while dancing or getting through the throng of people mobbed around the stage. Wednesday night is the night to go, but on a Tuesday the bar is crowded, as waiters pass out free shots of some kind of disgusting alcoholic orange fizz.

“Cheers,” I say to a group of Australian backpackers as we knock one back. “Gross,” we agree, “but free!” Everyone wins.

Cairo Jazz Club is not for a shoestring budget; in fact, it’s one of the more expensive places I’ve been, but the ambiance and chance to let loose is well worth the price. After enough free orange fizz is passed around, the night steadily progresses from people swaying in their seats to taking the floor and moving, uninhibited, to the beat.

Last call is at 3:30am and Cairo Jazz Club closes at 4am. Reservations are recommended and the more women you bring with you, the better chance you have of getting in. As we stagger out, we are greeted by a stuffed fox on top of a truck. Perhaps he too wanted to strut his stuff?

CAIRO JAZZ CLUB; 197, 26th of July St. Agouza; Cairo

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Let's dance #5: Dancing 'til dawn on the booze cruise
Let's dance #6: London's retro dance explosion

The Sweet Sound Of Silence

Sarah A. Topol — Sun, 03 May 2009 04:45:00 GMT

Photo: Seb_Belacqua

There is no such thing as quiet in Cairo. This is not a city relax in, the buzz, energy and boisterous culture demands all of your attention all the time. Noise is endemic to the metropolis. Turn signals are nonexistent, giving way to road communication in which each signal involves the blaring of a horn. As you walk down the streets of Downtown, men yell from stalls, demanding your attention, buy this, buy that. Bicycle bells ding as walking men with trays of pita balanced on their heads make kissing noises to warn others they are coming through

Noise Awareness Day should be mandatory in this city. To celebrate on my own, I escaped to my bastion of serenity: the American University in Cairo’s (AUC) Downtown campus bookstore. In the heart of Downtown, right off Midan Tahrir, the noisiest part of the city, behind a grimy beige gate, the red and white arches of AUC provide relief from the sun and cacophony of Cairo’s myriad of sounds.

Walking into the campus, you have to leave an ID at the gate. The guards will ask where you are going, “bookstore” will get you through. Follow the path and turn right, the first doorway into the building called the Hill House will get you into the bookstore.

The cool breeze of the air-conditioning in the medium sized room of books on most subjects under the sun is calming. Books in English line the walls, bright and crisp with un-cracked spines and provide refuge in a city of shouted Arabic. Meandering the aisles, you can find anything, books are priced for international sale (i.e. not cheap), but I never go to buy.

The beauty of the bookshop is I have frequently removed a book, sat down on the floor, and perused at length without ever being asked to leave. I have never seen anyone else do this, but perhaps my presumptive actions and its’ infrequency has prompted the salesmen to leave me to my solitary page flipping.

Otherwise, you can always purchase the book and walk out to read on one of the chairs outside on the campus’s lush green grounds or simply cross the street and sit in any of the air-conditioned cafes dotting the road.

Photo: Qujecit

Like a good power nap, after 20 minutes inside the shop, I stepped out into the street. Bracing my ears the obligatory horn honk, sure enough there it was.

“#%^$!!!!!!!!!!” I thought to myself, but if there’s one thing you can always rely on in Cairo, it's noise.

THE AMERICAN UNIVERSITY TAHRIR SQUARE CAMPUS; 113 Kasr El Aini St; Cairo.

Searching For Freezing: Finding The Mall

Sarah A. Topol — Wed, 29 Jul 2009 11:12:00 GMT

Photo: Razvan Marescu

Summer in Cairo is a sticky affair. The temperature rises with the sun, leaving a scorched city in its wake. I find it impossible to spend much time outside. Open taxi windows let in only the blistering 'breeze' rising off the Nile, and the only solace is found standing in front of your next destinations air conditioner. That’s when I know it’s time to escape.

Photo: Sarah Topol

Hopping a metered taxi (yellow cab – they are cheaper for long distances and air-conditioned!), floor it across the city to City Stars Mall, the largest mall in the region after Dubai’s monstrosities, a journey of about 45 minutes. The mega complex is everything that’s wrong and right in Egypt. The 5 floors boast a Starbucks, an H&M, a Virgin Megastore and hijabi (the Islamic women’s headscarf) shops, all in a gloriously freezing row. (And I’m not ashamed to say Starbucks has its appeal.)

Photo: Sarah Topol

Egypt is not unlike many developing countries, wrestling to absorb global culture while retaining its values. All over the city, McDonald’s serves up McFalafel, wrapped in the infamous golden arches. But City Stars is the most obvious meeting point of the two extremes: shops for veils next to Miss Sixty, no smoking signs hang above smoky ashtrays in the hallways, covered women with their families scarf down french fries at TGIFriday’s. If you squint your eyes, you could be anywhere in the world, even a mall in America, but the picture is slightly off.

Photo: Sarah Topol

The best part about City Stars (aside from the temperature) is the people watching. Cairenes wander the floors in groups or pairs. Teenage girls wearing short-shorts saunter past, batting their eyelashes at prepubescent boys, filled with the thrill of cross-gender communication. Haram (forbidden)! (But their parents are nowhere in sight...) Women whose faces are covered behind niqabs recline with friends over coffee, and Starbucks has a section for chain-smoking men, reclined with their families, exhaling next to baby strollers.

Photo: Sarah Topol

Wandering the shops, I quickly discover almost everything is out of my price range, but I’m not really there for the shopping. The mall is pristine, the fluorescent lights reflect the marble floors, (the mall is built to resemble a pyramid), and indeed it’s easy to get lost amongst the escalators, half floors, and 300+ shops.

Photo: Tark Siala

The crowd is different than the one you’ll find elsewhere in Cairo. This is the crème-de-crème of Cairo, or rather the ones with money to spend. The people you won’t see on the street because they spend their lives being ferried around by drivers from one 'exclusive' venture to another. Here you can observe them in their natural habitat, uncomfortably trying to balance Egyptian customs with Western fashion, and the tension is palpable.

Photo: Sarah Topol

The mall attracts a variety of shoppers, but since it’s not connected to the metro, most people are those with money to spend. The growing Egyptian middle-class and the spoiled rich children of the highest class can be seen loitering, taking their time to examine the maze of stores. Everyone held at least one shopping bag, and why wouldn’t you? No one is immune to gleaming consumerism, including yours truly, who eventually found meaning in the sale wrack of H&M.

CITY STARS MALL; Heliopolis, Cairo

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The Baladi Bar-hop: VAT And Stella Win The Race

Sarah A. Topol — Thu, 04 Mar 2010 09:50:00 GMT

Photo: Miriam.Mollerus

Alcohol consumption is forbidden by Islam, but like most things, just because it’s prohibited doesn’t mean it never happens. In fact, Cairo’s local drinking scene is alive and well and the 'baladi bar' is an Egyptian institution.

Small, crack in the wall, watering holes are plentiful, filled with middle aged Egyptian men drinking Stella beer and whiskey, shelling tirmis, white, watery beans. Often run by the Coptic Christian minority, the options for baladi bar hopping are abundant; the trick is knowing where to look.

Shady joints, up darkened stairs with belly dancers or inconspicuous doors off the street opening into small smoky rooms crammed with tables-- whatever kind of night you are in the mood for, moving between these bars in a small group is only complicated when someone in the party doesn’t feel like leaving one cheap joint for the next.

Stella came out with a map of all the Downtown bars. If you can get your hands on one, they are the best way to plan your night.

Tracking Change: Coffee In Cairo

Sarah A. Topol — Tue, 01 Sep 2009 12:53:00 GMT

Photo: Neebeday

According to coffee legend and lore, the bean we so cherish would be nothing without a series of events which unfolded long ago in the Middle East. The liquid now synonymous with mornings is thought to have been cultivated first in Ethiopia, where it caught the eye of mystics and then Arabian traders who exported it around the world. So it goes without saying that Egypt, one of the region’s main trade hubs through the centuries is coffee-central.

But times in the ‘Oriental’ city are changing and coffee in Cairo is not immune to the sweeping pressure of globalization. From local brew to the imported stuff, Cairo has something to offer everyone who wants to watch the evolution of a centuries old tradition.

The Townhouse Gallery: Something New In An Ancient City

Sarah A. Topol — Tue, 08 Dec 2009 10:02:00 GMT

Photo: P Medved

Sometimes Cairo can seem like a quixotic nightmare—a city feeding on nostalgia. Crumbling, remnants of colonial-European architecture, a centuries-old bazaar now touting tourist trinkets, 4000-year old pyramids and feluccas skimming the Nile, sails opened as if they were going all the way to Aswan instead of for an hour-long tourist ride.

Cairo tries to entice by presenting the ancient wonders of the world, but what about offering something new? Has Egypt been on the cutting-edge of anything these days?

Townhouse Gallery

If wandering the piles of stones under glass at the Egyptian museum is depressing enough and you’re itching to see something a little more modern from the ancient-capital make haste to the Townhouse Gallery, a contemporary art gallery of Egyptian and foreign artists often working together to create novel and interesting pieces.

The three-story building and adjoining converted factory space offer a breathe of innovative air. The gallery does more than just art—it incorporates the surrounding locals in its projects. I once saw an exhibit in which the artists made a model-sized replica of the surrounding city-blocks. They displayed it and asked members of the community contribute ideas for changes to the neighborhood. The suggestions were rebuilt into the model over a period of weeks. The result: a lot more fast-food restaurants ...

The exhibit on offer when I last went was called “Where Are You?,” a group exhibit in cooperation with the Swiss Arts Council of foreign and local artists-in-residence premised on intercultural exchange. At times puzzling, but always interesting, artists of different nationalities and mediums were shown side-by-side using a variety of mediums.

Ahwa time

After taking in the refreshing works, join the neighbors in the ahwa (coffee shop) right outside the gallery. Watch out for shoe-shiners and fire-eaters, as well as the artists relaxing after a long day’s creation.

TOWNHOUSE GALLERY; 10 Nabrawy Street; Downtown Cairo