Week 1: The City of Cairo

I heard the other day that architects have the highest suicide rate in Egypt. I’m not sure if that’s true or just a colorful rumor, but it certainly makes sense. Navigating Cairo is hard – the buildings here tend to run together into a brown blur. There’s been a trend in recent years where the wealthy move outside the city, escaping the noise and squalor of downtown in favor of mini-cities that spring up in the desert. Yet while the dirty, decaying facades of downtown have character, these new cities seem soulless and utilitarian. The rows of identical block housing and the Lada taxis filling the streets call to mind the ghosts of Egypt’s socialist past.

I’m not sure if Arabic has a word for “urban planner”, but I’m sure they must share in architects’ frustration. Cairo has virtually no public spaces. The sidewalks are littered with construction debris and the streets are cluttered with cars. Double parking is the norm, and I’ve even seen triple parking in some places. At night, people congregate on the Nile bridges, enjoying the breeze as well as some of Cairo’s only decent sidewalks.

The population is growing, but I’m not sure how Cairo will cope. Professor Lo told me he thought that in twenty years the government is going to have to start tearing down buildings. If I had to guess, though, I’d predict that affairs will continue in the unpredictable, laissez-faire fashion they do now. Many things about the city of Cairo don’t make sense, but Egyptians are resilient. They find ways to rejoice in the Kafka-like absurdities of Cairo. I love Cairo and I love the Egyptian people, but this is an extremely difficult city to live in. For those who relish constant challenge, Cairo is an amazing adventure. For those who want things to just make sense, this is not the country for you.

This post started because I wanted to write about running. Running is never something I’ve liked doing, and I’ve always nursed a secret jealousy for the motivated few who have the persistence to go running every day. I had wanted to join a gym, but after Gold’s Gym told me a two-month membership would be about $300 US, I was forced to change my allegiance. I’ve become one of them, getting up at 6:15 AM four or five days a week to go running. I love it.

Cairo is beautiful in the early morning, before it gets hot and the traffic becomes so thick you can’t walk between the idling cars. Crossing the Nile every morning is simply awe-inspiring. Yes, the pollution is bad and the heat is deadly, but in the early morning neither is insurmountable. From the apartment, I cross the bridge unto Zamalek Island and run to the Gezira Club, which has a giant running track. The dirt track is narrow, uneven, and covered with horse crap, but it’s better than the sidewalks. I’d guess the track is maybe a mile and half around, but I really have no idea. I’m not sure exactly if you need a membership or not to use the track, but I just do what Professor Lo showed me and give £E 5 ($0.90 US) to the guard at the side gate. I’m not sure whether I’m just paying the cost of admittance or bribing the guy, but it works without fail. Interestingly though, £E 5 seems to work regardless of how many people I have running with me…

Running in Cairo is also amusing because of the reactions you get. The bored policemen with AK-47s hanging loosely off their backs stare at you as your run by. Sometimes I get honks and thumbs-ups from taxi drivers. When I finally make it back to the apartment, the bawwab (custodian) sitting in the lobby gives me a standing ovation while I drag my sweaty body to the elevator. They think my mediocre jogging means I’m some sort of amazing sportsman – no one runs here. Greater Cairo has a population of perhaps 15 million people, but I’ve only seen about 3 other people running.