Lethargicize

Cairo is hot and the Cairo metro hotter even in spite of the jet-force speed of ceiling fans and open windows. Which is why the ladies only car is such a relief. From the pink velvet chairs to the attendants offering pedicures to the constant trill of happy gossip and soft hisses of a needlepoint in progress, it's a respite from the demanding city streets. The men really don't know what they're missing!

Whatermelon

This watermelon cart in Cairo's Boulaq neighborhood is one of identical hundreds throughout the city. Without any evidence, I was long-convinced that the alluring display slices were dyed red, which put me off. But maybe the watermelons really are that good, and I should learn to be more trusting.

Feels Like Sand

The khamseen season is supposed to end in April, but this week was unseasonably sandy and hot and my colleagues spent a good deal of "water cooler" time complaining about it. It's the usual office chatter about the weather, sort of like what other people might have about extended rainstorms or cold snaps, until they realize how lucky they are.

To the uninitiated, talk of giant clouds of sand besieging the city, blocking the sun, and trapping the heat, seem part of an orientalist fantasy, a more suitable script for Rudolph Valentino in a turban than the unveiled Director of Human Resources. But sandstorms are very real, something every Egyptian realizes the moment they are forced to navigate their feluca down the Nile in one (pictured above).

Its Trustful Foot

For weeks now, spheres of white fuzz--like the head of a dandelion--have been blowing over the fence of my community garden and amassing on the curb. Once, I caught a white cat lounging in the downfall. "What are you hiding from, little cat?" I wondered.

It is hard not to get carried away when reminded of childhood, but I wish I had been able to warn the man who lost his sandal mid-frolic. He might not want to be barefoot in the surrounding area.

Trucks Allowed

This hand-stenciled street sign welcomes trucks onto a quiet, residential street in Maadi.

I've Been Feeling Guilty About...

On a recent Egypt Air flight, I accepted the vegetarian meal mistakenly offered to me, depriving a more organized vegetarian of the surprisingly delicious chickpeas and spinach. In my hunger, I admit that I considered the theft fortuitous. As penance, I will plant a chickpea bush so enormous you can see it from an ordinary passenger jet and, one day, from space.

Art Review: Egyptian Surrealism

The message in this piece from Townhouse Gallery's exhibit of Egyptian Surrealists is fairly progressive for its day, unless it is a command.