First two days in the Middle East

As our plane descended into Cairo, my face was glued to the window. It was unlike anything I’d seen before.

Miles of sand-colored skyscrapers sprawled out over the desert, all clustered in bunches around the massive Nile River.
 
I thought the plane glass was dirty because there was a haze surrounding the buildings. The person next to me said, “No, that’s the smog.”

I think the haze around Cairo is fitting, because that’s kind of how it feels to be here. Hazy. The jet lag doesn’t help.

The heat isn’t as bad as I thought it would be, but it’s definitely hot, especially considering the fact that women have to cover our skin.

The heat takes some getting used to, but the language even more so.

Many people here don’t speak English, and the ones who don’t are the people I’ve come into contact with so far. They work the restaurants, shops and taxis. They’re happy to try and work with my broken Arabic, but it’s challenging.

And, as us students have quickly realized, our lack of Arabic language fluency leaves us extremely vulnerable.

It’s not so bad for me because I have wavy, brown hair and Grecian skin. I’m still obviously American to Egyptians, but I’ve already noticed I’m less likely to be ripped off when paying for things than a blonde haired, blue-eyed girl on the trip.

Everywhere we’ve gone, the Egyptians point at us, but then smile and wave, especially the children. They’re eager to talk with us.

That’s a nice change, considering many other countries aren’t so fond of Americans. In a way, it’s strange we are so welcomed in Egypt, of all places.

I’ve found that the only place Egyptians aren’t respectful is on the road. Imagine driving in a big American city, like New York or Chicago. Now, triple the amount of traffic.

Then remove all stop signs and stoplights.

That’s Cairo.

Every time we have driven so far, some part of me has been convinced we are going to die. Or, at the very least, we will hit someone trying to cross the seven-lane street, Frogger-style.

We got a fair tour of the city because we went to Old Cairo, or Coptic Cairo as it’s sometimes called. Coptic is the form of Christianity here.

We saw the Ben Ezra Synagogue, the oldest synagogue in Cairo. According to legend, it’s located at the site of the burning bush.

In modern times, it’s simply a place where controversy echoes because it’s nestled between a church and a mosque. It is well guarded by police for fear of terrorism.
There is still much friction between Israelis and Egyptians.

We saw the church where the Holy Family is said to have lived during their several years in Egypt after fleeing King Herod. Then, we saw the mosque of Amr Ibn al-As, the oldest mosque in Cairo.

To enter, all women had to wear robes that covered our arms, legs and hair
completely. Both sexes had to remove their shoes.

Every day here is punctuated by religion, literally and metaphorically. Five times a day, the call to prayer, or adhan, rings through the city through loud speakers.

Most women walk about in niqabs, the black robes showing only a woman’s eyes, burqas, which show only the face or hijabs. Some men walk about in long tunics that go to their feet.

Then, there’s us: the Americans in our jeans, t-shirts and cardigans.
 
I’ve never been a minority before, but I think I’m starting to understand what that feels like, to live in a country where you go against every possible norm.

Despite the heat and the smog, I like it here already. And we’ve only been here for less than two days.

I can’t wait for this haze to clear so I can truly see what Cairo is all about.