Arriving in Egypt and at Zamalek

Posted September 2, 2006

Eric and I got up early on August 21, 2006, to catch a train from Rome’s Termini station to Fuimicino airport. We showered, grabbed our bags, and walked to the train station. Forty minutes later, about 8:20 a.m., we pulled into Fuimicino and gazed at the astoundingly long security line, where a lone guard inspected passports and travel documents. Eric’s plane was to leave at 10:30, so we queued up and tried to ignore our hungry stomachs.

After the security line, Eric got to wait in the check-in line for his airline. His plane was only a half-hour from taking off when he made it through. We said good-bye, and he left to fly back to the States. I spent the next four hours bumming around the airport, and at 2:30 I boarded the flight that would take me to my home for the next year.

Flying over the Mediterranean was gorgeous. Our pilot took us over Italy, the Adriatic Sea, Greece’s mainland and several Grecian islands, Crete, and of course the Mediterranean on its approach to Egypt.

From my window seat, I watched the landscape turn from blue to sandy yellow as we crossed Egypt’s northern coast. The Nile delta spread out in tones of green and brown, and our plane flew upstream, right over the river. I thought to myself, “Wow, I’m flying over

Egypt

.”

As we approached Cairo, the air developed a distinct orange consistency, a result of the incredible air pollution that blankets the metropolitan area. When the plane’s wheels touched the ground, the pilot decided to make a hard right turn, and everyone in the plane was jerked to the left. This was apparently standard operating procedure, because the entire cabin began applauding.

(In reality, the EgyptAir flight is the best I’ve flown in my memory. Excellent service.)

Stepping off the plane caused my lungs to pine for Santa Cruz’s sweet-smelling air. It felt like being a smoker, without the hassle of buying cigarettes and bumming a light off someone. This would take some getting used to.

I left the airport, hailed a cab, negotiated a fare, and had the scariest ride of my life, which I’ll write about another time. It was dark when we pulled up to the dorm. Guards with very large machine guns stood sentry around the building. A German Shepherd lay at the feet of one guard, a muzzle strapped around its neck but not actually attached. I walked inside with my two bags.

The man at Reception, a large, round, and friendly guy named Rafit, welcomed me to the Zamalek neighborhood AUC dormitory. He signed me in, gave me my key, and directed me to the elevator. As the elevator doors closed to take me to the sixth floor, I jumped and flailed with excitement. My room, 606, turned out to be large and with a well-functioning air conditioner, a luxury in the States but nearly a requirement for life in Cairo.

I settled in.

I did not bring a whole lot on my nearly year-long trip. Here’s a complete list of the clothes I brought:

One pair of jeans
One pair of cargo pants
One pair of slacks
Two light jackets
One dress shirt
Seven t-shirts
Four undershirts
Seven pairs of underwear
One pair of shoes
One pair of sandals
Three pairs of socks
One pair of swim trunks

That needs to last me from August until next June. As for non-clothes items, they include my notebook computer, my digital camera, toiletries, a few books for translational purposes, and a few small odds and ends, such as sunglasses and plastic baggies. (You never know when they’ll come in useful!) It’s not exactly traveling light, because my bag weighed 12 kilos or about 26.5 pounds, but it certainly counts as traveling compactly. Once I’d unpacked, the room still looked barren.

The arrival of my roommate, Colin, changed that a bit, but not much. Neither of us have a lot of stuff, so our room is, well, roomy. We keep the air conditioner on as high as it goes as often as we can, because it’s just that hot here. Our Arabic Language Institute (ALI) classes don’t begin until September 6, so we have been given free reign of Cairo until then. What does this mean?

Adventure.