Tilde and I had a long conversation about what it takes to appreciate Cairo. We concluded that one 'simply' needs to have a passion for culture, an open/flexible mind and person, and an ability to see beauty in the smallest of things.
A Beauty In:
The glimpse of a leopard print shirt under the full covering of a niqab.
Piles of fruit for sale on the street; the greens of mangoes, oranges (ironic, I know), apples, peppers, and pears.
Call to prayer, 5 times a day when millions (billions around the world) take a pause in their day to drop everything and praise their God. I see it as the only consistent thing in Cairo (other than bad traffic), it comforts me.
Mostly, I see beauty in strength. In Khalda and her friends (along with the entire Sudanese community) who face daily racism, but continue on with smiling faces. In the elderly who shuffle their way around this chaotic city. In the sweat of people who work hard for minimal pay.
The women here, amaze me. I personally struggle daily with my lack of freedoms due to my sex. I get so angry about my inability to roam, dress, speak, and stare freely. Cat call after cat call, stares that burn, and a constant awareness that I'm female- by the end of the day I'm exhausted. Granted, I face a different kind of harassment than Egyptian women because I am foreign. I am young, American, and in the minds of young Egyptian males I am Angelina, Jennifer, Britney, and Beyonce combined. Yet, through all the oppression when I enter the women's cart on the metro I'm surrounded by smiles, laughter, respect, style, and love.
Today tutoring I got to meet three inspirational women. Ask me their names and I will not remember them. Ask me about their smile - and I'll do my best to describe it. All three of the women came in today, simply to talk. To practice their skills in English.
First there was the woman who works at the Cairo Opera House. She is an artist who finds happiness in the warmness of orange, yellow, and red. She lives with her mother and it is obvious she wants more, but doesn't complain. Instead she talks about her job and friends. She talks about her dreams to travel, because when she travels she feels alive.
Then there was the young Somali woman. She studies both Arabic and English to be a Social Worker. She is one of two Somali students in her class at Cairo University. Her daily 45 minute trip each way to school doesn't bother her, because here she feels safe. There is no one trying to hurt her in Cairo, no killing on the streets, a constant fear of violence does not exsist. So she complains about nothing.
I got to end my time with a middle aged single mother from Eritrea. I was able to sit beside a woman who would do anything for her children. She didn't understand a word I said in English, or a word in Arabic. She lives with only her children and a constant state confusion and fear. She knows though, that education is her key to survival. So she goes to English classes twice a week, and goes home to immediately teach her children. They teach her the Arabic that their young minds pick up so easily. She holds onto her native tounge also - her children are learning three languages.
These three women were all inspirations, to just keep - keeping on. They were all scared. Scared of being alone, of language, of homework, of the city, of the heat, of their past experiences, of what is still left. Yet, each talked about their mothers and Oprah. About their dreams and passions. Each of them had a smile on their face and in their eyes.
How can I not fall in love with a city when it holds so many surprises and so much beauty?
One just has to search for it a little harder here, but hey, welcome to the Middle East.
