I met my neighbors. Despite being ten stories, my building is incredibly quiet. It's an old building, on a quiet street, with residents who have lived there a long time. I usually run up and down the stairs to my third floor apartment without running into anyone, except maybe Mohammad the doorman.
But one day on my way up, I ran into a couple going to the floor below me. We exchanged greetings, established ourselves as neighbors, and they invited me in for lunch. I politely declined, saying I had work to do. "But this is Egypt, it can wait," was their answer. I couldn't argue with that logic.
The apartment belongs to a sweet, elderly lady who has lived there for over fifty years. The couple I met on the stairs were her son and his French wife, who were visiting for the month. We chatted over tea, and then koshari, and then fruit, and then more tea, for a total of three hours in proper Egyptian visiting fashion. The koshari was so amazing, I don't think I want to buy it off the street anymore (which I still will, because that's what I can afford). Koshari is Egyptian pasta, that's made of different pastas, lentils, garbanzo beans, fried onions and tomato sauce. And this woman's homemade version was incredible. I'm actually getting hungry writing this.
The apartment had that comfortable feeling of it being someone's home for decades and decades. The combination of the furniture, and the rugs, and the light fixtures, and the paintings, and the homey smell, gave it a very established sense. It's the apartment directly below mine, so we naturally had to joke that I must be the one making all the noise above them. It has the rooftop patio above the garage that you can see from my balcony, with the plants and seating.
Over tea we chatted about many things. About how during the summer everyone leaves their doors open for ventilation and talks to each other across the halls. And about his experience growing up in Cairo, spending his career in the states, coming back, and then moving to France. And about French politics. And about culture in Cairo. About what I am doing here. And about how I was welcome anytime, Rory, the mother, would be happy to help me with anything I might need.
I'm glad I procrastinated my work and took the time to meet them. One more step towards feeling at home in this busy, busy city.
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The view from my balcony looking down at their rooftop patio. |
The apartment belongs to a sweet, elderly lady who has lived there for over fifty years. The couple I met on the stairs were her son and his French wife, who were visiting for the month. We chatted over tea, and then koshari, and then fruit, and then more tea, for a total of three hours in proper Egyptian visiting fashion. The koshari was so amazing, I don't think I want to buy it off the street anymore (which I still will, because that's what I can afford). Koshari is Egyptian pasta, that's made of different pastas, lentils, garbanzo beans, fried onions and tomato sauce. And this woman's homemade version was incredible. I'm actually getting hungry writing this.
The apartment had that comfortable feeling of it being someone's home for decades and decades. The combination of the furniture, and the rugs, and the light fixtures, and the paintings, and the homey smell, gave it a very established sense. It's the apartment directly below mine, so we naturally had to joke that I must be the one making all the noise above them. It has the rooftop patio above the garage that you can see from my balcony, with the plants and seating.
Over tea we chatted about many things. About how during the summer everyone leaves their doors open for ventilation and talks to each other across the halls. And about his experience growing up in Cairo, spending his career in the states, coming back, and then moving to France. And about French politics. And about culture in Cairo. About what I am doing here. And about how I was welcome anytime, Rory, the mother, would be happy to help me with anything I might need.
I'm glad I procrastinated my work and took the time to meet them. One more step towards feeling at home in this busy, busy city.
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