Imbaba

I went with Amani to Imbaba. It is a region near Mohandeseen (every place I’ve mentioned is a region of Greater Cairo, FYI, in case the different names was confusing). She leads a group for homeless and troubled girls there. She had a small group meeting (about 15; they also have big group meetings which she helps with, about 150). Anyways, I couldn’t join her, what with it being an all girl group and all, but she thought it might be interesting for me just walk around. And it was. I don’t know if I could talk about it without sensationalizing it. (BTW I'm not doing justice to Amani's work with these girls, it's great; maybe another time.)

So I’ll just do my best. It’s wild. I spent a bunch of time in the market, which is one street which goes on for many blocks, lined with shops, and coffee houses and food stands on either side. It’s covered with people, bikes, scooters, and occasionally cars and trucks. The wildest things food-wise are the hanging sides of beef, the live goats and cattle and chickens. Aside from this, it’s just everything you might think: busy, dirty, smelly, loud, crowded, road in total disrepair. I just think, “what is this life?” I spent a long time sitting on the side of the road and just thinking to find out how I might relate to anyone there. I mean aside from the language difference, given that no one would speak English there, and my Arabic isn’t at the “relating to you” level. I mean, on the surface, our lives seem as absolutely different as possible.

At the same time, we’re all just humans. So it must be possible, and there must be something, and in fact many fundamental things, that allow us to relate.

Furthermore, I don’t think that I (we) in the west are any different. We just have a different set of busyness, dirtiness, oddness, smelliness, etc. We’re running around after a different set of nothings. I have only the same set of questions for us westerners, as I watch us run around and do whatever it is we do, and I still ask that question, “what is this life?”

Beyond this, or rather in the context of this, I’d like to meet people so that I can make friends, practice my Arabic, and make good use of the 2.5 hours Amani has left me for. So I think it would be a good idea to talk to someone. But that’s of course the problem. For those of who follow sports, especially hockey, you’ve seen the interview with the foreign player who doesn’t speak the language well. In this case, it’s like a foreign player seeking out an interview in a language he doesn’t speak, unsure of which reporters would actually want to talk to him, given their focus on all the other things going on in the locker room, and in fact he can’t even talk about the things he knows best (i.e. his sport) because he doesn’t have the vocabulary. So it took a while. Finally I left the market, and hit up a more main street. I found a pharmacy that looked empty (and therefore the guy there will have time to talk) and I just walked in a started “chatting” with him. It went okay. The guy was very nice, and people came and went, both customers and friends of his and other workers of the store. Again, it was a pretty slow conversation, with lots of unknowns, hey, you gotta start somewhere.

Actually he was very nice, and took my number and I took his. He called later that night to make sure that I made it some safely. I think in our conversation, I had not made it clear that I was with my aunt, and would be meeting her shortly. So how about that? Egyptians are on the whole very friendly, and there is a good example.