Residence upon Residence (Jan. 30, 2008)

Looking for a place to live in Cairo is always an adventure. Unaware of this, I spent way too much time trying to establish this before I came here. I emailed former Rotary scholars, spoke with other contacts in the country, looked on the internet; all to no avail. The prevailing comment was, "Just wait until you get there." This doesn't jive to well with my philosophy of being as keenly prepared as possible for every expected and unexpected occurrence. The best form of preparation I could hope for was to reserve a room at a hotel for a few nights until we (two other Rotary scholars and myself) could find an apartment.

With a very limited budget, I sought after the cheapest hotel I could find. Of course these types of hotels do not have websites, nor can you find ratings or comments about them. It’s just one of those “let’s see what happens” type of situations. I thrive on the excitement of these, yet I wriggle in how uncomfortable it is until the moment of exposure is at hand. I, unfortunately, did not get this moment of exposure. One of my roommates, Huma, did get that moment a few days before I was to arrive in Cairo, and she passed through that moment very quickly into a more reasonable hotel which cost us approximately three times as much as the hotel I had chose. After listening to stories of a heatless room (which heat is definitely a plus in Cairo in January), old, dilapidated sheets and blankets, a standing shower, uncarpeted floors, and a telephone without number buttons, I was quite sad to have stayed in the luxury of the Cosmopolitan Hotel and missed out on the adventure of Tulip Hotel.

In Cairo, the bowab is your best friend, unless you have the guts, language capability, or contacts to search for an apartment yourself. This man has several buildings or individual flats in various areas of the city that he finds tenants for and thus receives compensation from the tenant (and I believe from the building owner as well). I cannot stress to you how large Cairo is! Of course there are many buildings and properties for businesses, schools, organizations, hotels, etc., but the coinciding amount of space needed for housing is unbelievable. Everywhere you look there are buildings upon buildings of residences. The closer to downtown you are, the larger these buildings are. I often wonder about the extreme fitness of the families that live on the top floors of these buildings.

* Here I must insert something I observed in my own neighborhood. While sitting on the patio studying, I noticed a basket of food being lifted to the fifth floor of the building adjacent to my house. I stared in amazement realizing the frugality of this action. Seriously, who wants to carry bags of groceries five floors up? Why not just tie a rope to a basket and hale it up through the window? Such ingenuity! No more need for elevators. We can all use the exercise anyways.

Back to the apartment finding…Praise God, we had contacts to help point us in the right direction. We tried to look for something on our own, which simply led us to this random apartment in Garden City which was the residence and the office space for a woman who runs an organization which gives legal aid to refugees. It was a lovely encounter which led to some good friendships and an enlightened eye on the situation of refugees in Egypt, but I think the doorman directed us to that apartment simply because he knew they spoke English there. From this point forward, we solely used the aid of a dear friend of Huma’s by the name of Adel. He wasn’t in town but directed us to a bowab who had one flat in mind for us: the lower floor of a two story private residence in the area of Cairo known as Mohandeseen. After careful investigation of the house, area, and distance to the nearest market as well as the approval of our adopted father, Adel, we chose this flat.

It is slightly awkward looking down our side street (which is relatively quiet, surprisingly) and seeing many large ten story buildings and then this one two sided, two story house with lovely gardens stuck in between. I must admit, though, that we are living in luxury. Of course Cairo luxury is on a different level than any other type of luxury (at least on this side of town it is): second-hand dishes which lend to quite adventuresome dinner-making processes and food storage methods, a toaster that we are too afraid to use because of the fireworks restrictions in our house, the absolute resolve we attained in realizing we’ll never be able to regulate our water temperature in the bathroom, the daily task of trying to figure out the logic of which light switch turns on which lights.

This is our little heaven on earth in Mohandeseen. Our three bedroom flat with one and a half bathrooms, a large sitting area, living room, dining room, kitchen, patio, two porches, and two gardens is a haven of rest and a tremendous blessing for the price that we got it for. I don’t know how long this poor student will be able to afford this flat, but Insha’allah my language capabilities will improve enough to be able to speak with that lovely doorman in Garden City and actually look at an available room in that building. Until then, we will live in our little heaven listening to the man hitting the gas cans as he rides his bike down our road, waking to the sounds of the birds in our trees, occasionally hearing the heated discussions from one of the hundreds of households that towers above our own, and daily weaving through the maze of cars which have made our side street their own personal driveway.