A Different Drummer

Isn't my new bedroom sweet? I can't help but brag....

Over the weekend we made the big move from Downtown to our new place in Zamalek. The Downtown house was great - aside from being my longest continuous place of residence during my 2+ years in Egypt, I will probably never again live closer to the centre of a city. I'll certainly never be closer to the Arab League headquarters.....

Anyhow, two key pieces of learning regarding living in Cairo for the semi-long-term resident:

1) There is a time in every person's Cairo life when they should live in the middle of Downtown, preferably within 500 metres of Tahrir Square.

2) There is a time in every persons life when they should move to Zamalek

3) Recognizing when each of these times has come is a skill that will bring you great rewards.

Downtown is an awesome place to live: I challenge any place in the world to be as alive, as throbbing with the pulses of millions of human experiences, to be as noisy, bizarre, fun, beautiful and decrepit. Nowhere else in the world is falling to pieces with as much style - and over such a long, dignified trajectory - as Downtown. It's called Wust El-Balad in Arabic, which translates literally to "Center of the Country" - it may very well be the center of the universe for all I know.

Drinking beers in Horreya (the greatest bar on Earth), watching the central security forces surround protesters 5 layers deep in Talaat Harb square, sitting in traffic jams at 2am, feeling the earth roar and rumble under your feet in Ramses square, chilling in the unexpectedly serene Borsa, standing like an ant before the colossal Mugamma - I will never learn as much about the myself and the world as I did in Downtown.

Things change though, and as we all know, sometimes just packing up and getting the fuck out is the best way to say goodbye. There comes a time when getting woken up each morning by 100-decibel traffic loses its novelty, when being permanently covered in a fine layer of exhaust residue and solidified smog gets tiring, when having to explain to someone, anyone, landlord, doorman, neighbour, why a female friend stayed the night or why you came home at 5 in the morning, gets a little frustrating.

This is the time when you move to Zamalek. A quiet, green, tres tres chic island in the Nile, smack in the geographical middle of Cairo but a thousand miles from its aesthetic center of gravity. Zamalek is NOT downtown, but it is only 5 minutes across the bridge...



The hardcore Downtown'er will recoil with shock at the above image, for the following reasons:

1) On a 200-metre stretch of road at least 2 lanes wide, there are only 14 cars, meaning that a car thief must have stolen the other 486.

2) That car thief must also be a dangerous psychopath, because on that same stretch of road, there are only 4 people on the street. The other 1246 must have ran away in fear.

3) A strange green leafy fungus, sprouting from large "trunks" of wood, appears to line the sides of the road. These "trees", as Zamalek residents call them, may have played a role in the exodus of people, who obviously cringe at such revolting visual pollution.

4) The atmosphere is all wrong - too clear and lightweight. The absence of a dense, nutritious soup of smog, exhaust and coal smoke will surely lead to breathing difficulties for children and the elderly.

5) The people there must be very poor, because they can't afford food, newspapers, packaged goods or live animals. This is evidenced by the complete absence of garbage and animal waste lining the streets. Pity these people, for they have nothing.