Stu's visit to Egypt (year 2)
06/22/2003
I just finished reading my first email I sent from Egypt. It describes the process of using taxis and finding addresses. I am astonished to find how true it rings even after two years. I would have guessed at the time that I would become acclimated to the customs here and become more tolerant as I learned the reasons behind things. What I have discovered is... there are no reasons for things.
Egypt is a marvelous place. I marvel at everything here. Marvel is a marvelous word. It inspries awe and deep thought. That's Egypt. Whether you're contemplating the ancient civilization that built the pyramids or shaking your head at the chaotic traffic there are more things at which to marvel here than anywhere on earth. I will always remember how marvelous it is here. Maybe, someday, I will miss it and crave to be awed again, but I need a rest from it now. I am looking forward to a normalcy that I once knew in a former life. You might think I'm a bit odd to think that Beirut is more "normal" than Cairo, but trust me when I say that it is. (I'm not denying that I'm odd, I just think there are many other better reasons to think so.)
What I will miss are the people. In some ways leaving Cairo is more painful than leaving home. At least when I left Rochester two years ago I was certain I'd be back. I knew I would see people again. After all, it is home. And when I come home I'll see people. But this is different. Will I return to Cairo? Will I see some of these people when they are living in Venezuela? Ghana? China? I hope so, but I am less certain. It makes saying goodbye more difficult.
Before I go reaching for the Prozac bottle, let me tell you a funny story. I decided to use the Hertz Limousine service to take me to the airport. I usually use a driver I know named (I am not making this up) Mohamed Ali. But Hertz's cars are air conditioned and they charge the same price ($8.50) and Mohamed doesn't always like to pick you up at odd hours, so I went with the big name guys this time. I get Hertz on the phone and arrange for a pick up.
My half of the conversation consisted of "I'd like a ride to the airport at one AM. Yes, yes, thank you. Goodbye." In hindsight, the conversation was missing some critical elements, but at the time it seemed perfectly normal. For example, he called me by name before I introduced myself. Granted, it was the wrong name, but he said it with such conviction that I believed him and carried on. As he read me my telephone number it dawned on me that he was using the telephone's caller ID function and the name that appeared must be the name of my landlord whose account it is and as I was thinking all of this he continued to rattle off information that must be my address. All of the fast food delivery places here do the same thing so I agreed to all of it and hung up.
Of course, no one showed up at one AM. I phoned and the man I spoke to insisted that the driver would be there after five minutes. I phoned again. He said the driver was downstairs. I went downstairs. No one. I went back up stairs and phoned. He insisted that the the driver was there. He read me the address and I shook my head. After I gave him my correct address, and my correct name while I was at it, I told him I'd be downstairs waiting. Ten minutes later I was still waiting and I heard my phone ring three stories above me. I was damned if I was going to run up three flights and just as I was cursing Hertz, I noticed a man sitting in his car using his cell phone. He finished using his cell phone just as my phone stopped ringing. I took three steps to the curb and tapped on his window. He greeted me and loaded my luggage as if this was normal. Which, of course, it was.
I don't ask for reasons. I just marvel. And I laugh.