Arriving in Cairo

I half expected that we would be landing amidst a guerilla skirmish. In my mind’s eye our nervous pilot would be sweating over his instrumentation, manhandling the aircraft through a narrow, heavily-patrolled air corridor; any deviation resulting in gunfire crackling from guerilla bands below. I expected to be rapidly ushered from the flight by helmeted soldiers. I expected to see barb-wire barricades and sneering German Shepherds; maybe a few wafting wisps of tear gas.

Instead, many of the Egyptians on the Frankfort-Cairo flight clapped as we touched down. Maybe they were expressing relief that they would soon be released from 3 ½ hour screaming session that one of the two-year-olds on the flight provided, but I rather think that they were genuinely happy to be home. My wife and I were greeted near the gate by a smiling, mustachioed Egyptian travel agent representing our new school; for once we were the people whose names were on the signs being held aloft by welcoming travel reps. Like VIPS, we were ushered through customs, immigration, and visa processing in less than ½ hour, a new personal record.  Our smiling agents then grabbed our bags from the conveyor and ushered us through the terminal where our school administrators waited along with school vans and drivers. So much for my tough-guy entry into Egypt.

Driving from Cairo International’s location in the northeast of the city to our ultimate destination in the southeast of the city, I scan the horizon for blackened columns of smoke, the tell-tale signs of current revolutionary activity. I see none. Businesses seem to be going about as usual along the highway, a crowded mixture of families in cars and trucks hauling everything from heavy construction equipment to refrigerated goods. What I do see is a lot of small, litter-strewn sand-dunes outlining much of the highway. I also see block after block of unfinished 10 to 15 story apartment buildings. These, as it turns out, are the tell-tale signs of Egypt’s Arab Spring. Started by contracting firms patronized by the Mubarak regime, the firms simply vanished two years ago, leaving behind hundreds and hundreds of half-finished, squared hulks, now quietly collecting dust and sand amidst the sprawling Egyptian suburbs.

45 minutes later and we are dropped off at our new 4-bedroom flat in one of Cairo’s affluent suburbs, Maadi. Many of Cairo’s 100,000+ expats live here. It is a labyrinthine enclave of low-slung executive apartment buildings, tree-lined streets, and small merchant shops. Maadi also plays host to our new school as well as a score of upper-end restaurants, many fine green-grocers and a western-style mall that sells many foreign foods. I noted with a strange mixture of delight and horror for example, a smashed box of Fruit Loops in the street not too far from our flat.

The entrance to our flat is green and welcoming. Our smiling building guard, Mohammed, shakes our
hands and introduces himself to us as we head up the broad, marble staircase, drivers toting our luggage in tow; they refused to let us help. We open our flat door to a gorgeous 10-room apartment complete with built-in kitchen and two balcony/sun-rooms. Our new school has even left us a bouquet of flowers on the dining room set and has stocked our kitchen and pantry with survival food and coffee; bless them.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know that Egypt is a nation experiencing an ongoing revolution and quite a bit of very recent political and economic turmoil. I know there will be difficult and dark days ahead. I know this intellectually. This evening however, as we unpack our belongings, showering up after 20+ hour day of travel, I feel a sense of comfort and ease here that I have seldom in my travels abroad experienced before. Living here, it will be difficult to avoid getting lulled into a sense of security and complaceny.