A Tricked Out Renault

Cairo is a city of contrasts. For a while I couldn't be sure if this was a pleasurable or undesirable thing. Traffic in Cairo is insane. The streets have lane lines, but they're optional. I've actually seen our driver clip two people in the last 24 hours. Anything that rolls is on the street, from ancient Ladas serving as taxi cabs cruising next to the newest Mercedes zipping silently by. I spent an hour standing still in this free-for-all on the freeway as we left the airport

Cars and traffic serve as a good metaphor for Cairo's contrasts. As I sat in the traffic, I had nothing to distract me from listening to the calming call to evening prayer from the minarets. I could admire the ancient, silent Pharaonic statuary in the median strip which looked like it was carved yesterday. I could watch the old men washing away the dirt on the highway banisters by hand, one pole at a time.

I could appreciate the tricked out Renault.

I wish I could have captured it on film. The car, checkered black and white, had to be 20 years old if a day. It glowed neon blue in the dark, with its interior and exterior add-on lights. Its aftermarket chrome hubcaps glinted from under the lifted fenders. Best of all it sported Loewenbraeu beer mudflaps on its rear wheels which swayed as it zigzagged through traffic, blasting away with its squeaky horn, while its passengers conversed in the dim blue light, oblivious.

For me, that Renault will always be Cairo. Old and new, jumbled together in a way that works, even if not in the most attractive manner. The city is the same way. New apartment buildings, intentionally unfinished on the topmost story to avoid taxation, creep their way from the Nile into Greater Cairo to threaten the foot of the Great Pyrimids. Pharaonic statues, unmarked by time, stand amidst buildings which look old and worn-out but were built yesterday in comparison. The city is scattered with billboards advertising familiar brands in Arabic, but held by European or American models.

The airport reminded me of the Luxor in Las Vegas, with stylized Egyptian building facades. The guards at the airport drive Jeep Liberty's and sport AK-47s, both built in Egypt. The office vehicles are Ford Explorers with cup holders, but the Egyptians fill them with plastic ash trays that look like little trash cans.

The riverboat casinos in the Nile cinched it for me. Some float. Most are buildings made to look like boats which will never move downriver. Many have neon paddle wheels flashing at the rear, none of which work. All glitz, no function. But they seem to attract people none-the-less, just like the Renault.

I'll give Cairo another chance tomorrow. After all, the hotel restaurant offers a hookah, called a "shisha" in Egypt, with your meal and belly dancing on Saturday nights....