Day 27. Islamic Cairo

Decided to give it a go, alone on foot today. This is bigger than it sounds- Cairo is pretty overstimulating, and I actually feel a little dazed. I struck out on foot yesterday for a couple of hours, in search of food and general orientation; ino two hours I found nothing that I was sure was a restaurant, and certainly nowhere to sit and have coffee. I found water, and grocery stores with canned food, but not much to eat. As I had missed breakfast at my hotel due to the Giza tour, and skipped lunch while touring, this was getting to be problematic. (At this point, a big thank-you to Mom for the Whole Foods snacks!)

I did make one friend, at a juice stand. He gave me the only real smile I have seen in my 4 days in Cairo. He was ecstatic when I went in for water. "Thank you!! Hellooo!! Welcome!!" So I also asked for an orange. He looked crestfallen, so I said, "...and also juice?" So he clapped his hands and said, "For you try this." And he poured a small splash of something white into a glass from a milk bottle he fished out of a giant freezer. Sweet slushy ice-cold coconut mikk. Fabulous. He gave me something else to taste, which he said was from India; tamarind juice, I think. I thought too late, "Hmm- I wonder if that was crushed ice, or just frozen coconut milk? Was there water mixed in that drink? Do I have a bout of water-bourne illness coming on?" Oh well, if so, I have Cipro. If that didn't do it, the handsful of salty roasted pumpkin seeds my cab driver kept plying on me today will. But they were really good, too, and it's so hard to refuse people who are trying to be nice. (Which is how I got giardia in Costa Rica, but that's a separate story.)
And, frankly, not so many people I've met this week are particularly nice.

Today's desination, on foot, is Islamic Cairo. My guidebook points out that it's no more or less Islamic than the rest of the city, just so-named for the number of medieval mosques in the neighborhood. This walk is by turns beautiful and chaotic. Cairo is one of the dirtiest places I've ever seen, but there are spots that are swept clean and are bright and open. Winding through the main pedestrian street in the medieval quarter, I discover all the hassling and unwanted attention I had mistakenly expeceted in Istanbul. This time it was aggressive and not at all charming. You'd accept a handshake, only to find that that person wouldn't let go. You'd walk down a lane only to have someone fully block your path to deliver a sales pitch. I went down one street and was proposed to, in a vulgar way, six times. The entrepreneurial optimism in places like this is actually kind of endearing. People seem to have a belief that, for the right price, they can sell you anything. Bicycle tire. Tacky t-shirt. Water pipe. (I can't pass one of those without laughing about the "smug hookah" in those "Unhappy Hipsters" photos.) But I was at the end of my patience when, trying to buy a gift in one stall, the guy said, "What, why not sit down, I'm not going to kill you." Which did not, in fact, feel all that welcoming.

I fought my way pack out of that particular nest of the old city, and came back through a produce market, the nicest part of the walk. Favorite scene: a small baby, sitting happily in a pile of lettuce on top of a vegetable cart. People here were a little friendlier. The loveliest part, through here, was a quiet alley with shafts of light coming down through a wooden roof, lined on both sides with Bedouin tent makers. Beautiful.

At the end of this walk, I see the Citadel, my destination, in sight. A kid, about 17 years old, stops me and says hello. He asks where I'm from, and I say USA. "You need help? What are you looking for?" And I say, "That's the Citadel, right?" And he says yes, and I'm thinking, how nice. "One more question," he says. "Do you want to kiss me?"

"No," I enunciate. "No, I do not."

Still fuming half a block later at a cultural milieu which makes this kind of behavior seem rational to young men, I am waylaid at the back side of the Citadel by a helpful man who apologizes and says it's closed until 3 for a visiting dignitary. He says he's not a guide, doesn't want mone, maybe I want to go visit the Cairo Blue Mosque and then come back? He'll show me the way. He leads me down a side street which is packed with people so it's not scary, but his story is fishy. He talks about the 40 pound entrance fee to the mosque, and I say, "Oh, that's fine, then I'll just take some pictures outside," and he is so dismayed that I realize he is working for the mosque. When he realizes I am not a cash customer he kindly points me the rest of the way and turns back. I double back as well and go to the front of the Citadel- which of course is open. And it was worth the trip, ancient and quiet.

So. I am not proud of this fact, but I am writing this from a cafe- in the mall. After a few hours of full-on hassling, I need a break. I saw this mall in Lonely Planet and scoffed, "what kind of a desperate lame Westerner would come all the way to Cairo and end up in a MALL?" And now I know, exactly, what it takes to drive someone in search of new vistas, to a coffee shop in a mall downtown. I just drank two cappucinos, with dark chocolate on top. And I ate chicken . Clearly I am in mild culture shock. But I am sufficiently fortified- I think I can head back out.

(note from a day later, things actually deteriorated after that. The incident with my obnoxious and amorous 21 year old cab driver, who bought himself a ticket on my Nile dinner cruise and tried to be my date for the evening, probably deserves a full post. But it's too awkward and I am still mad. Another day of Cairo travel under my belt and I can say, with confidence, I am so glad I came. I am so glad I saw the pyramids. I am so glad I rode a camel. I am so glad I saw the Egyptian Museum. And I am so glad I am leaving, in exactly half an hour.)