Notes From Me

Friday, April 22, 2005

The Children and The Women in Scarves Are Quite Friendly

When I imagine Egypt I think of pre-Islamic Egypt, well before the 7th century Arab invasion, before hookah-smoking and Turkish coffee and the diminutive yet exaggurated respect of covered-up women.

Stationed at points along the sidewalk are men in baggy white uniforms with black berets and black belts. Toting rifles, they smile and nod and say, "Hello," when I pass. At every turn some man will fall into step with me and will not leave. "Hey, hey woman," they say, "you are so beautiful." Or, "Hi, I like your eyes/hair/shoes. Welcome to Egypt," with that same smile, and then they don't go away. Where I go, they go, no matter what I say. Others try to lead me to their shop, or to their brother's shop, and they insist we are friends and that their daughters won't marry unless I accept a cup of coffee from them.

The man at the bank said, "I am finished here at 8 o'clock if you need any help with anything." So it was no less than a miracle that my guide to the pyramids (the government requires guides for tourists) was entirely unflirtatious, calm, normal. Most men here seem to think that an unaccompanied Western woman is some kind of prey, or some kind of pet. They make calling-to-animals noises. I always wear long sleeves, long skirts, pants. If I walk with a Western guy--not a word from anyone--it's like a strange charm where I cease to exist.

So today I am off to "Old Egypt" to see the "hanging church" and some ruins and other stuff of the ilk that I love.

Booklist for this trip:

Autobiography of a Yogi

The Essence of Tibetan Buddhism

The Life of Pi

Dude Where's My Country?

The Killing Fields

Crime and Punishment

Oryx and Crake

posted by lux at 2:24 AM
link |

2 Comments:

JJJ commented at 4/22/2005~: I was just in Mexico a couple weeks ago, and we went up to this one storefront because the guy was selling ninja stars (The group of us had just been reminiscing about childhood, ninja star-related instances, and the guy we're walking past says suddenly, "Oh, you want ninja stars? Look here!"). We talked for a while and then he looked at me with such an odd expression. He began telling me about how his friend got sick when the pope died. Then, his friend came out from the back of the shop, looking somewhat sad and downtrodden (read: "sick") and proceeded to wear the very same expression and repeat the same tale over and over again. Soon, he had to repeatedly tell me that he knew many people who actually had a heart attack when the pope died.
They both seemed so excited and I couldn't tell whether they believed the story they were telling or they just really liked the thrill of initiating an urban legend.
salbaje commented at 4/23/2005~: i try not to visit your page too often.

bad for my heart. envy is. :-)

Want to Post a Comment?

back to main page