from August 30th

“I think I’m adjusting to this Cairo lifestyle a little too well,” said the girl with a yawn, when she finally got out of bed at 3 pm. “Time to run some errands and sit in a café until daybreak.”

Ah, it’s true! I can’t stop saying it: the Cairo schedule is like no other. I don’t think I’ve gone to sleep before dawn yet, and although I woke up at 6:30 my second day, I haven’t gotten up before noon since then.

Yesterday we stayed in bed til 5 pm.

The thing is, the city is most alive after Iftar, so you don’t really miss much sleeping til the late afternoon. All of the stores are open til morning; if restaurants are open for Ramadan they’re only going to be busy after evening; same for cafes and such. So we’re all turning into night owls, and the girl who used to be an old woman who loved to go to bed at 10 pm has suddenly become nocturnal.

To celebrate Cory’s arrival we went with Nicole and our friend Rami to an outdoor café called Harawi, in the Al-Azhar neighborhood. It’s a really interesting part of town. The Al-Azhar mosque is just a few streets away, and although we haven’t had a chance to see it up close yet it’s something I’ll have to experience soon. Al-Azhar is the oldest mosque in Cairo and the fourth oldest in Egypt, and it is beautiful. The neighborhood of Al-Azhar is surrounded by Old Cairo, or Islamic Cairo, meaning the taxi drive through was amazing; the streets are narrow and twisting, with ancient buildings and houses lining the roads like dusty ghosts. There’s so much history in this city; I can’t wait to learn it all!

Harawi was unbelievably crowded because of Ramadan, but the sheesha was good and the ahwa (coffee) was decent. We spent the time fighting for the waiter’s attention and swapping Arabic phrases; making comparisons between fas-ha (academic Arabic), Egyptian 3miya, and Syrian 3miya, which Cory has been learning a lot of in the past few months. We went home fairly early – 1 or 2, if I remember correctly – ordered a pizza, and went to sleep around 6 am.

As I said, the next day started around 5:30 pm. Which I realize it a little excessive. I’ve started setting an alarm now. Granted, it’s for 12:30 pm…but hey, it’s better than nothing.

When we finally got up we were told by Nicole that Rami had a surprise for us; he would be arriving around 8 or 9 and we would jet off to our mystery destination. In the interim we did some grocery shopping – which has become one of my favorite hobbies / social activities. Because there are so many shops conveniently close to our apartment, we generally do our shopping on a day-to-day or every-other-day basis; so we see the same employees a lot. It’s gotten to the point where the owner of the grocery store now recognizes us, and whenever we come in he greets us and treats us just like old friends! For such a huge city, it’s easy for Cairo to have a small-town feel. Especially in Maadi.

Now, as for the surprise. Rami showed up around 8:30, when we were still puttering around and putting away our groceries, and informed us that we were late. We didn’t know the surprise had a deadline! So we got ourselves together and piled into a taxi, and sped off for the unknown.

We drove for maybe 15 minutes, flying down dark dusty highway, with Nicole guessing all the while what was up Rami’s sleeve. His determination not to spill was impressive; he withstood all attempts at tricking it out of him and just smiled when we asked what he was planning.

Finally the taxi pulled over to the side of the highway, and we realized where we were: The Citadel. The Citadel is an ancient fortress, located high on a spur of limestone overlooking Cairo. Picked for its strategic placement it began as a pavilion created in 810 by Hatim Ibn Hartama, called “The Dome of the Wind” because of the fresh breezes that blew through the area. During the reign of Salah ad-Din (or Saladin, as he is known to most in the Western world) the area was fortified, and from then on was used as a military base.

History notwithstanding, the Citadel was incredible. Not only is it rife with history and incredible architecture, it was decorated to the teeth for Ramadan. There were lights and lanterns and music and shows; even when we pulled up we were greeted by a troup of whirling folkloric dancers, spinning great circular swathes of fabric above their heads.

We wandered the twisting streets within the citadel for a while, Rami hurrying us on the whole time and trying to figure out where we were supposed to be, til finally we reached the hige interior space. It was filled with people, and vendors, and various performances going on all over; we stopped for a moment to gape at a puppet show and watch puppies and princesses dancing to what sounded to me like Egyptian techno.

That part was strange.

But finally we found where we were meant to be, and with a victorious sigh Rami led us to some seats to the left of a raised stage; and finally informed us of the reason for our visit.

“Wust el-Balad is playing,” he said triumphantly. “For free.”

Wust el-Balad, translated as “Downtown,” is one of the most popular bands in Egypt at the moment. They also happen to be Rami’s was a folkloric performance scheduled beforehand, and it was fantastic. It featured favorite band, and one of Nicole’s favorites, and seeing them for free is practically unheard of. So I was excited too, of course!

Turns out we actually arrived a little early; there traditional music from Upper Egypt (which is actually Southern Egypt; they call it Upper because the Nile flows North, so it’s on the upper part of the Nile – kind of confusing) and a special kind of dance whose name I forgot – aren’t I awful? I’ll ask Rami what it was. The transition between the traditional and modern Egyptian music was really interesting though; you could see what they kept and what they changed and what they borrowed from other countries and continents, so that the modern music was a fusion of all kinds of cultures and time periods.

And it was great! Wust el-Balad is now one of my favorite bands as well. They had that distinctive Egyptian feel, but they mixed it with all kinds of different musical styles; most unexpected, and most enjoyable, Spanish Calipso music. At times they reminded me of one of my favorite Brazilian bands, Little Joy. And the excitement of the crowd was contagious; people were dancing and swaying to the music, calling out requests for favorite songs and singing along word for word.

For the trip home, we decided to indulge in one of the quintessential Egyptian experiences: the microbus. Microbuses are these teeny tiny utility vans (all the vehicles in Egypt are smaller than normal, I’ll have to take a picture – it’s like someone took all the cars and vans and smushed them UP, so they’re a little taller and a little skinnier) that the drivers pack to the teeth with sweaty passengers. Foreigners don’t usually take them, but they’re super cheap, much cheaper than a taxi, and if you know where they’re going they’re a great way to travel.

Of course, it’s still a mystery to me HOW to know where they’re going. We took a taxi to some seemingly random, entirely unmarked highway underpass and waited by this seemingly random, entirely unmarked concrete wall which Rami assured us was the waiting line for Maadi. And sure enough, a little microbus arrived and we piled on. I had Nicole in my lap and my elbow out the window as we careened down the road at breakneak speeds, and when the driver asked we all handed him 5 pounds (a little less than a dollar) and when we asked he pulled over to the side of the highway and slowed to a roll as Cory, Nicole and I scrambled out. Rami stayed on so he could head home, and we waved a hasty goodbye and called a hasty thank you, and hailed a taxi to take us the rest of the way home.

I’ve been humming Wust el-Balad ever since.