Friday, October 24, 2008

"Cairo Rain" Usually Means Air Conditioner Runoff

I just saw one of the coolest things I’ve seen since I came to Cairo- It’s Friday morning, which is the Muslim equivalent of the Sabbath. For me that means weekend.

I’m walking around the neighborhood looking for a cup of coffee and a place to work (which, in this case means read the book my mom just sent me, out of which I can’t get my nose.) And, as it turns out, Cinnabon, my planned destination is closing for Friday prayer. So I decide to be brave and try a new coffee shop. As I make tracks for Costa’s Coffee, I start noticing that it’s particularly overcast for Cairo. Mind you, Cairo is usually subject to absolutely unforgiving sunshine, so a little bit of cloud cover is always welcome. But then it actually started sprinkling. At first I thought I was getting hit by dribbles from an overly exuberant air conditioner, until I realized that the whole street was showing droplets. It was just that- a few droplets for about three minutes, but nonetheless I saw it rain in Egypt.

All the mosques have loudspeakers so anyone outside can hear the sermon. I’m stumbling along, short by one cup of coffee, absolutely mystified with wonder at the rain, half listening to the imams give their sermons. And as I head towards Costa, I start noticing the sermons are growing louder. In my morning stupor, using all my remaining brainpower to make an attempt at decoding what was being said, I turn a corner and am confronted with the backs of rows upon rows of men in the streets, all facing Costa Coffee, which apparently lies between me and Mekka. They form neat, silent, barefoot ranks, all with heads bowed in prayer.

The imam speaks, and the congregation, for I suppose that’s the closest Western word for what it was, echoes back- a hundred solemn voices quietly professing their faith on an Astroturf carpet in the middle of an intersection, with cars lined up, engines off, patiently waiting for the end of prayer. Somehow the serenity and wonder of the scene fit with the last sprinkles of the inexplicable rain.

The imam and his congregation were all precisely facing the door of the shop. I went to EuroDeli instead. 

Friday, October 17, 2008