stories from Cairo

So I recently went to Cairo and it was amazing. Because I have what I generally refer to as "a 35mm camera" (a description of which some have questioned the aptness of, but nevermind), and I don't know of any scanners I can use, sadly I can't post any photos right now, maybe in future. But I have some stories...

Cairo Story 1:

I was in a taxi with three other women, on the way to an American diplomat's house, to attend a reception in the evening after a day of conferences at the American University. The taxi driver didn't speak English, but due to my very little grasp of Arabic, I was nominated speaker of the car. I gave him the address, he nodded, and we set off. We learned that a taxi ride in Cairo really takes the word "ride" seriously- as the man in charge of the Scrambler at the travelling fair says: "Hold on tight!" Cars weave in and out of traffic; lanes are fluid and seem to play with the gaps, fissures, and problematic attempts at boundaries which characterize the text that is the road. Horns are used liberally and with great fervor.

At some point, the driver seemed to ask for the address again. I told him the address; someone else showed him the paper, which was written in English and therefore of no use to him. He pulled off to the side of the road and, without a word, got out of the car.

We looked at each other, and occasionally surveyed the shops and little alleys which fanned out in the direction our driver had gone walking.

After about five minutes, a man came up to our car and peered in the window.

"The driver?" he asked. I guess he could tell we weren't locals.

"We don't know," we said. The man looked at us, looked at the car, then opened the driver's side door, reached in and put the car in neutral. Then he proceeded to move the car forward, steering the wheel to the right. "Uh..." we all said to each other. "What's he doing?" "I don't know!" "Wait, wait!" I said to the man. "No problem! Thank you!" The man shrugged, put the car back in park and walked off.

After a few more minutes, our driver returned with three men. One of them eyed us through the crack in the window and said "Hello, where you going?" We carefully explained the address, and named a landmark.

"Oh!" he said loudly, with a big smile. "I know. Big house for Americans?"

"Yes," we whispered.

So we went on our way, and had a pleasant evening eating American food, which is shipped all over the world to those in the foreign service. I mean everything, including lettuce. The diplomat's apartment was furnished with Middle-eastern carpets, wall-hangings, cushions, etc. And yet the life of the diplomat and family, in the middle of the Egyptian megalopolis was so... American. Interesting window into a strange world, but I much preferred the taxi ride.