7 things about living in the Middle East or Versatile Me

Tags

Are you married?, Cultural differences, Icebreakers, Living in the Middle East, Personal questions, Relationships, Shops, Taxi drivers, traffic, Versatile Award

Ladies and gentlemen,

Now for some breaking news! It appears that my ramblings have not gone unnoticed in Riga as its smartest, funniest expat (who lives at http://expateyeonlatvia.wordpress.com/) has nominated me for the Versatile Blogger Award! 

So I am to:

• Thank the person who gave you the award& Include a link to their blog

Thanks again, http://expateyeonlatvia.wordpress.com/:)!

• Next, select 15 blogs/bloggers that you’ve recently discovered or follow regularly& Nominate those 15 bloggers for the Versatile Blogger Award

I tried!

But versatile as I am, the process of cutting and pasting links& then letting people know they have been nominated had me labouring fruitlessly for about half an hour and then was duly abandoned.

So instead, could I nominate everybody who reads this post for the Versatile Blogger Award? I know it’s not quite how it’s done but I would love it if you could please take me up on this and spare me the misery of endless drafts going to the bin due to excessive pasting.

Living in the Middle East has taught me that rules are optional so instead of telling you 7 things about myself I thought I’d tell you 7 things about living here.

1. There is no such thing as bad coffee (unless you are having it in a hotel for breakfast which is a universal curse so it doesn’t really count)

2. Most men go to the barber weekly

3. The most usual icebreaker is ‘hello, are you married do you have kids how old are you?’  

4. If you think a shop is too small to have what you’re looking for you’re probably right. What you don’t know is that the owner knows somebody who knows somebody who will have it ready for you somewhere.

5. Traffic rules are entirely optional.

6. Nobody uses street addresses. Ever. A typical taxi journey involves the driver staring at you wordlessly as you mumble a street name, then stopping next to a man who’s crouching on the pavement eating pumpkin seeds. The driver asks for directions, the seed eater stares wordlessly. Then he shouts at somebody who’s making a falafel nearby. Who calls his cousin.   

7. ‘With my family” is the default answer to most questions the inquisitive traveller might ask about weekends, holidays or any other form of free time

Cairo is

Tags

Big city, Egypt, Hassle, Nile, Places to see in the Middle East, traffic, Travel to Cairo

I have been in Cairo for a full mad week now, which explains my absence from my favourite online playground.

Enter Cairo.

Noisy, alive, sprawling, fast, dusty, fragrant, colorful.

This city is a heavy-breathing, powerful beast. Old French villas, elegant slim mosques, brown tower blocks and the Nile flowing calmly through the restless, ever changing human landcape.

The music of Cairo is a never ending cacophony of car noise. The traffic is a murderous shambles. I spent my first two days here worrying I was to start and end my trip on the same side of the road.

It is practically impossible to cross the street. No car ever stops. They come at you in their thousands, at crushing speed, like one of those massive waves you see on TV at a particularly succesful surfing contest.  You basically jump into this sea of blasting, jumbled metal, close your eyes and pray.

Now I’m no traffic sissy. I’ve done my share of bad traffic in Amman, Istanbul, Mumbai and a few other brave places where people take their lives in their hands every day to get milk. Cairo makes them look like a village roundabout in Germany.

And the hassle, oh the hassle, please come here if you want the write the book of hassle.

You know that feeling of sailing a crowd on your own, you and your thoughts, unseen and untalked to? Forget it! You are never alone in Cairo.

Any tiny trip is a social occasion. People talk to you randomly, men follow you singing, boys shout as they fly past on scooters, kids run into your knees, old ladies approach you with tissues, mints and cigarettes.

Welcome to Egypt.

The funny thing is I love it. The energy of the city is splendid.

The trays that waiters carry in the morning to cater to bored, winking policemen, the sun playing with the iron cast balconies of crumbling houses, men rowing down the Nile, fruit and veg overflowing.

The dance of everyday life and the smart men and women of an ancient land talking about the frustrating chaos of the present. The twinkle in their eyes, the cloud of perfume, that beautiful, glowing skin.

Lamb testicles on restaurant menus.
Stumbling upon an island of fragrant jasmine on a side street, the moon over the understated beauty of an old mosque, cafes where people sit in rows smoking argyllas and watching the spectacle of the world.

Cairo is