10 observations about Cairo

My two-week visit to this city of scramble and survival began here. Blogwise, it ends on this page. Given that it was Ramadan, I'm not certain I got a representative look at Cairo, but I believe the following tips and observations can be of use to anyone planning a visit.

1. Ignoring any unsolicited suggestions that you do something is good policy anywhere, even in your hometown, but 100 times more important in Cairo. Seemingly helpful offers to see a hidden or old treasure invariably lead you to a feature that is neither hidden nor old, and is followed by a request for a "tipsy." If you're offered a cab, decline and find your own. For the most pleasant experience here, make sure all your decisions are self-directed. Can't stress this enough.

2. Green laser pointers, like fireworks, are a fairly new craze (post-2011). They used to scare me because I'd seen how they were used during violent confrontations to identify and blind one's opponents. But they're overwhelmingly wielded as a playful toy.

3. The air quality is the best of any big city I've visited. Better than Denver, Phoenix, Los Angeles, Seoul. It was a revelation to learn how much natural gas Egypt produces and uses in its vehicles. There is nothing particularly "green" about this country, but seeing the viability of CNG as everyday vehicle fuel, and not just on municipal buses and the like, is something the U.S. can learn from.

4. Walking in traffic is a necessary skill. Forget about the sidewalks: They're broken, have no cutouts (some of the curbs are so tall, you practically have to put your hand on the ground to descend from them), are blocked by vendors and are prime spots to be rained on by air conditioners. Virtually every vehicle approaching from behind will honk at you. Don't take it personally. The penalties for hitting a pedestrian are practically life-ending for motorists, so as aggressive as they seem, they are more afraid of you than you may be of them.

5. There are no traffic signals outside of downtown. No red or green lights, no yield or stop signs.

6. Crossing the street is an art form. If you wait for traffic to clear, you'll never get to the other side. Some newcomers have been known to hail a cab just to be able to traverse that scary 40 feet. My technique is to walk in the direction of oncoming traffic, which gives me the momentum I need to make a sharp 90-degree angle behind the rear bumper of the car that's just passed. Repeat as needed. Panic is not recommended; the more relaxed you are, the safer. Running is cheating. My landlord's mother, from Germany, became so addicted to this activity she'd spend 45 minutes at a time crossing and re-crossing the same street.

7. Drinking water in public during Ramadan is fine. I was concerned about this before arriving, but nobody seems to care. In fact, the observant believe this strengthens their faith. There's even an Arabic word for it. Outside of Cairo, which I've found to be quite liberal, the public response may not be so blase. Tap water is safe but heavily chlorinated. Nothing beats a cold bottle of Bakara (a Nestle product).

8. The cabs with the black-and-white checks on the side are the least cheaty. If you're a woman, think twice about sitting in the front seat. You can negotiate a price ahead of time, but I've never found the need, settling instead on a pound-per-minute system. So that 50-minute ride to the airport should cost no more than 50 pounds, or about seven U.S. dollars. If a cabbie doesn't seem satisfied, it's a game. Just pay and walk away.

9. Finding beer during Ramadan. I haven't bothered buying any because it's a pain in the ass, but it can be done. There's the corner store in Zamalek that I referenced here. The Massoud Supermarket, at the corner of Street 72 and Street 9 in Maadi carries it, but that's quite a hike from the city center. The souvenir shops in Coptic Cairo always have a few cans in their coolers. The Four Seasons, Mena House, Kempinski and other 5-star hotels will pour them, but during the holy month you'll need to bring your passport, because they won't serve Egyptians. In a 48-hour window after your arrival, the duty-free shop downstairs at Terminal 3 will sell a certain amount of beer and liquor, as will the duty-free shops on Talaat Harb (northeast of Tahrir Square), Gamiat Ed Duwal in Giza, and in Nasr City's City Stars mall.

10. Pat-downs are a way of life. Entering many historical sites, or any mall,  museum or fancy hotel, you'll have to go through a metal detector, followed by a wanding and/or full-on molest. Too bad some of this security zeal is not directed toward the lawless mess that is Pyramids Road.

Many thanks to Martin W., who modestly insists on a better life.

End

Islamic Cairo

One of the world's oldest apartment buildings, the Al-Ghuri wekala (909 A.D.) housed antiquity's traveling merchants. These spice-road caravansaries stretch from China to Europe.

Note the pointed arch inset and surrounding "stalactites." Sometimes I can't believe I'm here.

 

The animals of these spice-road truckers slept and rested at the Qaitbay Basin next door, also from the 10th century.

 

Also on el-Gammalayya Street is the back entrance to Al-Azhar. Found this by accident. Still sleepin'.

 

Spectacular entrance to al-Muizz Street, part of the Al-Ghouri complex, a relative youngster from 1505. This used to be a silk market.

 

Hard to believe Cairo was once an ordinary-size city. A David Roberts painting from the 1830s.

 

One of the tragedies about this part of town is the encroachment by casual retailers selling SpongeBob bath towels and other assorted junk. Al-Muizz is one of the world's great treasures, and much of it is obscured. It's the cost of business in an unregulated city.

Another gate, the Bab Zulaweya, from the 11th century, built to keep out Turkmen invaders. Photo taken from the steps of al-Muiayyad mosque, where somehow I was permitted to watch the noon prayer. The people here are exhausted and no longer attuned to seeing visitors.

 

The Muiayyad's courtyard. This is a really nice mosque, completed in 1422. Kinda regret not paying the baksheesh to be able to climb the minarets. Everything is for sale in Cairo.

 

The Bab Zulaweya marks the terminus of al-Muizz ...

 

... giving way to the Street of the Tentmakers.

 

What passes for engineering in Egypt. These timbers are supposed to keep two buildings from falling into each other.

 

The Sabil al-Wafaiyya (846 A.D.). I think this place might have something to do with Sufi mysticism, and I want to check it out, but there's a brawl going on and a sense of menace hangs in the air. Thirty-six hours before traveling home, it's not worth it.

 

Attaba street stalls

"That little dark guy was trying 
to touch you sexually."
-- Martin to Sluggh
Crowded train on the Metro Blue Line
Sunday, Aug. 4, 2013

A relaxing Sunday stroll east of downtown, on the way to Azhar.

Attaba Street Stalls from Sluggh McGee on Vimeo.

3 mosques

Visited three mosques on Friday. The first, built in 1318 in the Mamluk period, has features unique to all of Egypt. The second, in the Ottoman style, is Cairo's most visible religious building. The third, founded in 970, is arguably the most important institution in all of Islam. No, seriously.

All right, let's kick off our shoes and roll. No. 1 is the Kalawoun, a rectangular block with a marble-columned courtyard at the Citadel fortress overlooking Cairo. Looks kinda militaristic from the outside.

It has two minarets whose bases are below roof level, which is unheard of in these parts. Two views of the stately courtyard:

A fat minaret. I'm newish to Islamic architecture, but it seems that one way of dating mosques is by judging how much mass their towers have. As building techniques improved, they got skinnier. As always, corrections welcomed.

Not sure if the coloring on these voussoirs is a thousand years old, but in this climate, why not?

Detailing on the qibla side, orienting the faithful toward Mecca. 

Mosque No. 2, the Mohammad Ali, dominates Cairo's southeastern skyline. It's a baby, finished around the time of the American Civil War. With its half-domes, it's trying to recapture the imperial Ottoman style I became familiar with in Istanbul. Not all that significant in the scheme of things, but a good place to get out of the sun.

Mosque No. 3, and the most significant, is Al-Azhar, a few miles away in Islamic Cairo. It's not that people are "more" Islamic in this part of town, but there is a rhythm to life here that probably isn't that much different than it was hundreds of years ago. Yet there are plenty of cafes in this square, almost like a City Hall area you'd find in Europe.

Still, the area seems way conservative. I love how Cairo throws you these curveballs.

The approach to Al-Azhar. It's in the Fatimid style, from the 10th century.

Al-Qairah (Cairo) was new when this place was established. Before that, the population center was in Memphis, now long gone, to the west.

The courtyard. Note that the arches are keel-shaped, not semicircular. (This also may be a handy dating tool.) The more you look at Islamic architecture, the more there is to learn and admire. Same with anything, I guess.

I dive into the prayer hall and find about 150 prostrate men waiting out the daylight hours. It's an odd sensation. I want to take lots of pictures of the interior and never feel unwelcome, but I'm in my stocking feet, stepping around bodies, trying not to walk in front of anyone praying, etc. Very cool, but weird for a visitor with a bellyful of food and water in the waning hours of Ramadan.

The reason I say this may be the most important institution in all of Islam is that it established a university in 980 A.D. and remains the world's pre-eminent center of Sunni learning. Eight-and-a-half out of 10 Muslims are Sunni, and, well, I did the math.

Letter to Cairo

'Sup?:

We've only known each other for a couple of weeks, so please give this letter only as much weight as you think it deserves. If we're keeping a bravery scorecard, your brother is winning. Last Friday night he lost his front teeth in a bar fight and he's still holding his head high. Sure, he wrecked your car the first time he drove it, but after kicking him out of the house, now he's super-pissed, and it doesn't take much to contaminate his best intentions. For example, some of his friends are out egging houses, but they're just hangers-on. Like you've never rolled with a bad crowd, lol.

That reminds me. Love your foul, especially the kind with the fried egg on top. Sometimes before the sun goes up, I'll go out for a bowl. I like the way you smile at me when I build up my courage to stammer an order.

You won't let the kid behind the wheel for another 50 years, I get that. But I hope you don't disown him completely. A couple of years ago his nose was buried in the Ukrainian driver's manual, studying the Orange way of handling a vehicle. I hope for his sake he rededicates himself to it. We all could use a little peace in the neighborhood.

Those polka-dot kerchiefs you wear, what are they called again? Let's go for that felucca ride tonight. You smell like sweat and cigarettes, but you're hot.

Affectionately,
Sluggh

Muqattam Hill

This limestone cliff in eastern Cairo has been quarried for 5,000 years (the pyramids are about 20 miles from here), and quarrymen to this day continue to chisel at its face. At upper right is the mini-mosque of Masjid al-Juyushi (1085 A.D.) To me the mosque is one of the most mysterious places in Cairo, but I'm not sure how to get up there.

Cairo's minibuses

They're privately operated and appear to be unregulated. Please try one if you have the chance. State your destination in the form of a question. If the driver nods, get in. If someone is sitting in the passenger seat next to the driver, it's OK to share that seat with him. Don't worry -- he'll scooch over. If forced to sit in the back, tap the shoulder of the person in front of you and hand him or her a 1-pound coin (14 U.S. cents). They'll pass it forward to the driver. You may even get change back!

Knowing when you've reached your destination, especially if you've never been there before, is a little more tricky. The word for "here?" is henna?, so just keep asking every few blocks. The average Egyptian will be thrilled to speak with you, particularly if you look European or North American.

On Fridays, thunder

The streets are nearly deserted Friday mornings for prayers, but the sermons can be ear-splitting. Every couple of blocks you encounter something like this. The khatibs yell about a variety of subjects -- how you shouldn't mistreat animals (thanks; I was wondering about that), how on the day of reckoning, atheists' faces will turn black, etc. It seems odd to an outsider like me that the whole neighborhood should be subject to this bellowing, but public preaching is a fundamental feature of Islam. It's inescapable, even 150 feet below ground in the metro, where the city allows the teachings to be broadcast on the public-address system.

Friday.sermons from Sluggh McGee on Vimeo.

Pyramids: Nothing new under the sun

Small talk on the Giza Plateau.


   

small.talk.on.the.giza.plateau from Sluggh McGee on Vimeo.

Criminality on Pyramids Road (with video)

"Now persuade your vassals to fall back."
--Mark Twain in 1876, having paid 4 francs
 for the privilege of being left alone at the Great Pyramids

Tourists and local bloggers here have been complaining about this for awhile. Allow me to add to the documentation.

A few hundred yards before the camera is turned on, camel and horse-carriage touts step into traffic, wagging their fingers as if to say you cannot pass. Our driver veers around them.

At 0:14 and 0:18 seconds, you can hear them banging on the side of our taxi in frustration. I laugh nervously.

on.way.to.pyramids from Sluggh McGee on Vimeo.

At 0:22 or so, a layabout walks into the frame from the right to block our progress. His cohorts rush in from the left. We are now effectively blocked. My taxi driver cannot advance without causing injury. These are not police or officials of any kind. Just thugs preventing us from free passage on a public road.

At 0:38, one of them opens the cab door and tries get in. I wrestle it shut and engage the lock.

Now, you may find this to be only a nuisance or offer by way of explanation that this is to be expected at a "tourist trap," or even concoct a socioeconomic explanation for why it occurs. Fine. But in a country that pretends to depend so heavily on tourism, it is beyond unacceptable, beyond belief.

The second "event" occurs shortly after our entry, when the louse in a ballcap demands our tickets and tells us what "we" are about to do together. I am more attuned to this than Martin for some reason.

I have loved the people here, but frankly, a little shame needs to be rained down on Egypt, and its police need to get off their ass and do more than doze on stools and direct traffic.

The dripping squeegee lives!

The ding-ding of a service-station bell brings out a small army of uniformed workers to check your tire pressure and fluid levels, clean the windshields and apply sunscreen to your nose. Well, most of those. Many of the cars here, and nearly all the taxis, run on compressed natural gas. A typical fill-up of CNG costs about $1 USD and will keep you on the road for a couple of days. Gasoline itself is about 90 cents a gallon, a price that is artificially depressed by government fuel subsidies this country can scarcely afford.

Four weeks ago, there were monumental gas lines and daily power outages. They have since mysteriously ended, giving rise to a variety of conspiracy theories. Speaking of which, it is widely and firmly believed here that 9/11 was an inside job and that the Sphinx's nose was blown off by the Israeli army. When you hear outrageous fantasies like these, I find it is always best to smile and nod, remind yourself that life is short and order another aseer asab.

Cozenage Part 2

Martin and I had just gotten back from the pyramids, and I invited him up to the apartment for a cold water when he was approached by a prating mountebank of about 14 holding a green drink in a twist-top bottle. He asked Martin to open it for him, and my friend complied.

With Martin's hands thusly occupied, the young thief tried to reach into his pockets but was quickly rebuffed. Undeterred, and in a remarkable display of dependency and parasitism, he began to follow us up the stairs, grabbing Martin's arm, upon which my friend threatened to whip this creature with his lanyarded keys.

We were targeted for speaking English on the street. I relate this story in the interest of full disclosure, not wanting this blog to be a whitewashed account of my two weeks here. My question to Egypt is a simple one: There is a reason there were only 12 visitors on the Giza Plateau this morning (where we were briefly kidnapped by the camel and carriage touts), and I have done my part -- exchanging my hard currency, and visiting the shops, restaurants and historical sites with good cheer and an open heart. What do you have to say for yourself?

Coptic Cairo

Jesus, Mary and Joseph supposedly lived here and drank from the well around which Saints Sergius and Bacchus Church would be built. The jagged edges of Cairo are smoothed away in this pre-Islamic cluster of parishes. Dipping my toe into the history of this place reminds me of the sea of wonders that lie in Al-Sayyida Zeinab and Islamic Cairo to the northeast. The entire city is an outdoor museum, and 336 hours is time enough only to skim the surface.

Sometimes I feel I am the only tourist here. Nobody notices as I climb the bell ringer's stairs to the roof of the Hanging Church, built around 300 A.D. Muhammad would not be born for another 300 years. The view from the top:

The Copts are a distinct religious minority, making up about 1 out of every 10 Egyptians. They're Christian, obviously, but speak Arabic and have a complicated history I can't pretend to understand. Some views from inside the Hanging Church.

These pictures, painted on wood, are iconic, in the original sense of the term. They're considered to be not just representations of saints and angels, but to be sacred in and of themselves. Almost an otherworldly concept. People from the neighborhood come in to touch them, one by one, then leave. The picture frames say 18 A.D., but that can't be right. They look newish, maybe 300 years old.

St. Nofer the Hermit:

A crowned Virgin Mary with her baby riding shotgun. She's stabbin' a snake.

These appear to be the oldest icons in the building, painted directly on the apse. I think they're from around 700 A.D. The arrangement and age remind me of the mosaics uncovered at the Haghia Sophia in Istanbul, so I'm guessing Mary is involved, possibly the Archangel Gabriel and somebody else.

The Coptic Museum is just around the corner. The lighting, presentation and signage is superb. Truly one of the great museums I've ever visited. Lots of portrait fragments from the fifth century, incunabula from the 1100s, and tons of icons.

Some highlights: 1) Part of an 18th-century triptych featuring Saints Ahraqas and Augani. They have the bodies of men and the faces of dogs -- an attenuated link to Egypt's pharaonic past. 2) St. Victor on horseback, trampling a dragon. 1700s, by Yuhanna Armani. 3) The many tediously produced, vividly colored pre-Gutenberg books.

Sadly, no photos are allowed in the Coptic Museum, nor are they in the Egyptian Museum. And in general, Egyptians don't seem crazy about having their pictures taken, so it can be a challenging place for a photographer. Outside the museum are the ruins of the Babylon Fortress (below), built around 500 A.D. The Nile used to flow nearby, but it's since changed its course several hundred yards away. Jesus' dad, er, stepdad ... whatever, is believed to have worked nearby.

A cool doorway in Coptic Cairo.

Saints Sergius and Bacchus Church, on the site where the holy family drank their fill.

In a mini-Deesis, Jesus touches his thumb to his ring finger (the original gang sign?).

At St. Barbara Church, there is some chanting going on, but in what language? Sumerian! (Allow me a moment to Google it.) Sumerian is the oldest written language in the world and was spoken here 3,000 years ago, when the pyramids were still encased in a gleaming limestone veneer.


st.barbara.church from Sluggh McGee on Vimeo.




These guys are tearing down an old building at the El Gawhary Tomb. Yeah, I don't know what's going on either.

I sense a startling psychological aspect emanating from this spot. Behind the skillful devotional art is a rippling agony. Jesus' death created a thunderclap along the Nile that echoes to this day. Hungry to learn more, I return the following afternoon with Martin. My Arabic is so-so, but he's a native speaker and better actor, and I need him to open some doors that are closed to me. He delivers, surprising even himself. More on that later.

After a hot, crowded metro ride, I'm getting closer to home.

Getting groceries at home is a production, but everything is so damned convenient here. Whatever you need is just steps away.