Egypt

Sami was lolling in the garden of the Nile’s island that lays in front of the Egyptian Opera House. He was surrounded by tall buildings and big boats that threw a blue glow on the calm waters of the river, lighting it up at night. In the background, he could hear the deafening music that was always blaring out of the speakers installed inside the boats, which took not only tourists but also locals for a brief trip along the Nile; they gave all those racked with pain a short break from their everyday lives. For almost half an hour, they could lose the crosses they had to bear onshore. Sami, however, was not paying heed to the music of the boats. He had his headphones on and was listening to music he had downloaded from the Internet, which acted as a magical world of sorts. It stood in stark contrast to the real world where one was forced to comply with the allotted default setting when listening to music, when entering the ...Read more →

My city earned a place in the history books when the first strike from a pickax was delivered to dig the Suez Canal. The city became famous not only among Egyptians, but also among foreigners, who started to arrive at it, wound up living in it, and eventually died in it. On the western side of the city, close to where the “beautiful” beach begins to stretch, one may bump into the fence of the old cemetery of Port Said. It is divided into different sections: one for the deceased who hailed from the Commonwealth, another for those who were Catholic, and yet another for those who were Orthodox Christians. Besides that, there are five sections for deceased Muslims. It has recently been expanded to include five new sections in the suburban slums of Abu Auf.

Upon accessing the foreigners section of the cemetery, I saw a heart-rending epitaph written on one of the tombstones. It read: “Dear son, rest in peace in this foreign land, which lies so far away from your loved ones who grieve for you.”

That ...Read more →

Roughly thirty years ago, on an otherwise seemingly ordinary afternoon, he looked different. His narrow chest, gruff voice, and steely eyes struck me that day as belonging to someone else, someone one would have expected to find at the Mansoura Corniche of the ’80s. Even as the schoolboy I was back then, I was able to tell he had quite suddenly become barely recognizable. I felt a sense of distance from him. As I sauntered alongside my father, I suddenly felt that he was no longer the man he used to be. From time to time, we stopped walking and our eyes drifted over to the opposite shore.

A foreign-sounding voice cut through the silence. “That is the al-Banna mosque.”

I looked to the place where his eyes were lingering. The mosque’s dome shimmered in the fading sunlight. It glowed green and majestic, standing in stark contrast to the darkness that had already descended over Talkha, the neighborhood where it was located. His voice was soft, much softer than what I knew it to be. But that was ...Read more →

Like any other employee at the buffet, I obey the orders of my plump boss, whose rotundity I am sure more than one or two people must have mistakenly ascribed at some point or another to some fatal disease. He shadows me relentlessly, watching my every move. He is probably more thorough at said task than an actual shadow would be, for even shadows, I am sure, must get tired of being gummmed to a person’s ass and wind up cutting their enslaved owners some slack. As soon as the diners lay down their cutlery, I clear all the empty plates from the tables in the hall and head toward the rudimentarily furnished kitchen, which nobody has bothered to equip with the implements needed to get the dishes properly scraped clean.

“Screw them!” I think to myself and then carry on heaping “praise” of that ilk on them, while fetching dish after dish with my work-roughened hands. For the life of me, I can’t say why I keep putting up with all this ...Read more →

“In our town everything is organized. Everything is where it should be: the river, the trees, the old rural houses . . . All the elements that assemble our reality complement one another and establish an ideal symbiosis that rounds out the ensemble. The goldfinches sing beautifully while jumping from branch to branch, the morning breeze caresses the basil fields and wafts their sweet fragrance all over the place, dewdrops shine on the leaves of the trees . . . I seriously doubt there has ever been an artist—or ever will be, for that matter—as dexterous as to be able to match the beauty of this scenery with a painting.

“Everything is as peaceful as peace itself. I dare say even the notion of peace has more noise to it than the one reigning over this Paradise on earth. Even the trees observe the peace, for their sake and for the sake of the villagers. It is only the children who break the overall peace, snapping off twigs from the trees to ...Read more →

The crackle of gunfire blares like a storm. The blistering heat is suffocating. The wind churns up the sand in this sour drama staged at the Sinai Peninsula by an army checkpoint south of Sheikh Zuweid. The small building is shored up with sand bags as if it were a fort. Muffled pants and groans can be heard coming from inside. As one approaches the scene, one sees an ailing soldier scrunched down on the floor with his hand pressed against his stomach. His blood is gushing out, soaking his vest and caking the dusty pavement. Another comrade in arms lies next to him in the same position, but he has already lost his life. Half his brains rest at the bottom of an eerie dark red pool. The wounded soldier gazes in fear and bewilderment at the young general who lies stretched out on the ground in front of him. You can see he is scared stiff by the way he clasps his machine gun, as if he could wring some sort of ...Read more →

I was just taking my usual stroll along the sea, but the sea itself was behaving in a rather peculiar fashion. I stopped walking in an effort to better identify what exactly was weirding me out. Bingo! The stormy weather did not seem to be affecting the sea, which was looking as beautiful as ever, as if it were posing for a painting in which the navy blue was to be blanketed in a layer of sky blue and sedulously sprinkled with the white that was to depict both clouds and waves while lending the outcome a harmonic, magical air. I looked at the sea and a sensation of peace took hold of me. Suddenly, even though I tried to block them out, memories I believed I had rid myself of a long time ago came flooding back.

“Sea, what a mysterious creature you are! For thousands of years you have been by our side, listening to our stories and witnessing how our lives go by. All the same, you still somehow manage to strike us as both enticing ...Read more →

A beautiful smile allows inner beauty to shine through one’s shell. ’Cause, believe me, eyes are the window to the soul. A steely gaze is all it may take to win another person’s heart over. Attend the meeting: an itch to laugh, cry, and hold one’s breath.

Now that I have polished up my infamous seduction skills and sharpened my wit, I am ready to buckle down to my task. I glance at my watch. It is still early. My reflection on the window of the car parked on the side of the road stares back at me. A current of air has disheveled my coif. I therefore fish a small comb out of my pocket and rake it through my hair to make myself look smart again. I examine my shoes. The outside has already started to strike out at my spotless veneer of self-maintenance with its filthy tentacles. I get a napkin, bend down, and wipe them clean with a few graceful strokes.

First, we will walk for a while along the Nile side by side. While she slides her gaze over the sunset, ...Read more →

This time I am resolved on changing dramatically. At the end of the day, garden-variety incidents such as these shift people’s perspectives on life, right? Without a doubt, it is now or never. I tell myself, “This time it is happening for real.” And here I am, already tampering with my perfectly functional routine. Instead of going from my workplace directly home, I am heading to the beach.

For years now I have dreamt of slotting this evening promenade into my daily schedule. See, it just so happens that I am a huge fan of the sea but not in the same way as everybody else. Nowadays it is hard to find individuals who don’t go around preening themselves on how profoundly they love the sea—my profession of love is the real deal. I delight in sitting at the shore, going for a swim . . . I have my heart set on one day owning a big apartment on an upper floor with panoramic views of the sea. My passion for it has made me develop a taste ...Read more →

In one of the coastal provinces there once lived a thirtyish-year-old man who loved sports and who, for several years, tried to find a job to make his dreams come true. Relentless in his pursuit, he traveled to numerous cities, including Hurghada, Sharm el-Sheikh, and Alexandria, among others. He followed the way he had been told to proceed to the letter: took exams, attended job interviews . . . However, he always received the same reply, the one known to belong to Mr. Computer’s phrasal repository: “We’ll keep in touch.” Although he held a degree in law—with honors at that—he was unable to find a suitable niche for himself, an opportunity to lead the life he was meant for. Nevertheless, a few years later, his prayers were finally answered: he was offered a job.

I looked at the clock and smiled. I was wearing my best suit. In one hour I would at last get to start my first day of work at my new job as a very well-paid chauffeur to one of today’s modern ...Read more →