My Secret Place in Cairo
0 Comments Published by Tom Gara on Sunday, January 30 at Sunday, January 30, 2005.
I have discovered a place in Cairo that is all mine, and no-one else will know about it unless I choose to show it to them. It is an incredibly poor district in the middle of an otherwise middle class chunk of Cairo, and it makes you realise that sometimes the phrase "the other side of the tracks" has a literal as well as figurative meaning. Cross a set of train tracks and its like you are in another world.
This place has no infrastructure and the worst living standards I have seen anywhere in Cairo - yet is has more energy, more bustle and more vibrant street life than anywhere I have been so far in this entire country. I spent an hour walking around the place, and saw, in no particular order, a live band playing music with empty jars and saucepans, an unofficial arm wrestling tournament where the men were competing for a prize which appeared to be a basket of tomatoes and chillis, about 100 different animated verbal arguments, a street soccer match that involved about 60 people from ages 6 to 80 (with one legless participant protecting the goals) and plenty of other street entertainment.
I found this place completely by accident - I went for a walk from my new house and started exploring around the suburbs. I crossed the railway tracks and then all of a sudden, here I was, in the middle of a Lonely Planet article. I walked through the markets, where they were selling some things that I have not seen anywhere else in Cairo - a person chargrilling Eggplants over a fire and scooping out the smoky, cooked flesh into a big wooden basin, and mixing it up with spices and tehina to make fresh Baba Ghanoug, right there on the street. Now Baba Ghanoug is one of my favourite Egyptian foods and my stomach was urging me to buy some, but my digestive system and anti-Hepatitis urges told me to give it a miss.
I did buy a kilogram of beautiful fresh strawberries, deep red and slightly imperfect in that reassuring way that tells you that you are eating real fruit growing in the sun rather than some indifferent greenhouse creation. That set me back all of 2 Egyptian Pounds, less than 50 cents. I also sat down for shisha and a cup of tea at a coffee house, but before I could order, my phone rang.
It was Uli, one of my housemates, "just calling to make sure you were OK". You see, I had left the house 2 hours ago, on a mission to buy milk and bread, from the store which is about 5 metres away from our front door. I had been lost in a hypnotic trance of this awesome little suburb ever since, and forgot about anything to do with my normal life - I am not a peasant, I do not live here, I do look incredibly foreign and out of place, I do live on the other side of the tracks. I had forgotten about all of these things temporarily while walking around this place and feeding off its distinct energy - but after being reminded of them I had the urge to get out, and come back at another time, armed with my camera and a few gifts for the kids playing soccer.
This place has no infrastructure and the worst living standards I have seen anywhere in Cairo - yet is has more energy, more bustle and more vibrant street life than anywhere I have been so far in this entire country. I spent an hour walking around the place, and saw, in no particular order, a live band playing music with empty jars and saucepans, an unofficial arm wrestling tournament where the men were competing for a prize which appeared to be a basket of tomatoes and chillis, about 100 different animated verbal arguments, a street soccer match that involved about 60 people from ages 6 to 80 (with one legless participant protecting the goals) and plenty of other street entertainment.
I found this place completely by accident - I went for a walk from my new house and started exploring around the suburbs. I crossed the railway tracks and then all of a sudden, here I was, in the middle of a Lonely Planet article. I walked through the markets, where they were selling some things that I have not seen anywhere else in Cairo - a person chargrilling Eggplants over a fire and scooping out the smoky, cooked flesh into a big wooden basin, and mixing it up with spices and tehina to make fresh Baba Ghanoug, right there on the street. Now Baba Ghanoug is one of my favourite Egyptian foods and my stomach was urging me to buy some, but my digestive system and anti-Hepatitis urges told me to give it a miss.
I did buy a kilogram of beautiful fresh strawberries, deep red and slightly imperfect in that reassuring way that tells you that you are eating real fruit growing in the sun rather than some indifferent greenhouse creation. That set me back all of 2 Egyptian Pounds, less than 50 cents. I also sat down for shisha and a cup of tea at a coffee house, but before I could order, my phone rang.
It was Uli, one of my housemates, "just calling to make sure you were OK". You see, I had left the house 2 hours ago, on a mission to buy milk and bread, from the store which is about 5 metres away from our front door. I had been lost in a hypnotic trance of this awesome little suburb ever since, and forgot about anything to do with my normal life - I am not a peasant, I do not live here, I do look incredibly foreign and out of place, I do live on the other side of the tracks. I had forgotten about all of these things temporarily while walking around this place and feeding off its distinct energy - but after being reminded of them I had the urge to get out, and come back at another time, armed with my camera and a few gifts for the kids playing soccer.
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