Cairo's Drug Culture: Part 2 - The Hashish Dilemma

Hashish is the compressed resin of the cannabis plant that a lot of Egyptians are very fond of. The subtle yet distinct smell of its smoke can reach ones nose in the most unexpected of places. From the narrow streets of Old Cairo to the lush offices of busy business districts, hashish is popular within all circles and social strata. It would not be strange to see a tok-tok driver holding a joint between his thumb and finger while whizzing through traffic in Imbaba, or even to be offered one at an acquaintance's home, if you have a relaxed and easygoing demeanor, typical of most young Egyptian males.

Hashish is usually sold in the form of fingers, with one being called a 'kersh' or 'coin' amongst other nicknames derived from historical usage when it was sold more openly using weights and scales.

Although the history of hashish use in Egypt dates as far back as 2000BC, it's first documented use as a spirituous and inebriating substance was in the 12th century, during the Ayyubid era, when the Sufi order has made it's way from Syria to Egypt, bringing along the use of hashish for spiritual purposes. Since then, hashish has been a part of the Egyptians' everyday life, with many failed attempts at eradicating it by the Turks (Ottoman Emir Soudoun Scheikhouni issued one of the first edicts against the eating of hashish in 1378), as well as the French (Napoleon Bonaparte prohibited the use of cannabis in 1798).

Many of those who lived under deceased president Anwar El-Sadat's rule during the 70s would readily claim it was the golden era for hashish. With hashish being sold by the kilogram, just as fruits and vegetables are being sold these days, and the president's alleged affection for it, the public perception then was very different than it is now. El-Batiniyah (a district in Cairo) was known to house the market for hashish during that time.

Granting the perception of hashish is different now than it was then, it is considered more of a 'naughty' thing to do, with a few winks fluttering either way. The criminality of possessing a small amount is only significant if you are caught with it, and you don't appeal too well to the police. This would mean that you're chances of getting out of it are better if you come from a respectable background, rather than, for example, one riddled with a history of crime. However, the authorities are hard to predict in Egypt.

The unpredictability of the authorities has been displayed many times before, with large crackdowns and drug busts over the past few years. But some claim it has never been as bad as it is now, in 2010. With the prices of hashish quadrupling virtually overnight, it was clear something has changed. Rather than reason with the fact that the police have basically done their job well over the past few months, many Egyptians theorize different stories to explain the drought in the hashish industry. Some have even claimed the police have gathered all the hashish so they can reintroduce it before the 2011 elections, ultimately intoxicating the electorate. 

Whether true or not, the history of hashish in Egypt is an interesting one, and as long time moves forward, more history will be made.

Pause Cairo: Play Suez (Part 2 - Le Centre Du Monde)

After coming back home from Suez, I was still intrigued by the abandoned Greek church and consulate. They seemed to have more prestigious days in the past, with wonderful architecture and masonry still on show, albeit the condition they are in now. After staring at the pictures I had taken for a while, I decided maybe a quick google search or a look at the map on google earth would give me information about their history. I started off with google earth, and mapped my way to where the church stood in the city of Suez. All I found there was a kind contribution of a photo labelled as 'Old Church' but not much else. So I went on google search and typed out several terms involving mainly the words 'Suez' 'Greek' 'Church' and 'Consulate'. As my investigative work started to fizzle out, I finally came across a personal website which provided some information.

On this website, Professor Philip M. Papaelias describes the Greek community he grew up in, back in the 50s and 60s. He also gives very interesting information on how the three cities that sat on the banks of the Suez Canal (Port Said, Ismalia, and Suez) all had large Greek communities, with schools, churches, cinemas, clubs, and other forms of entertainment catering to the needs of the communities.

The mysterious church was called Saint Catherine Church

I did not find what I was searching for though; the history of the buildings I saw. He did mention that there were three churches in Suez, so I guessed that was a lead I should go on. I decided to email Professor Philip M. Papaelias through the contact information he left on the website. I introduced myself and described what I was trying to find out. I was a little disappointed to receive an automatic notification that he was away, but it took no more than a few hours later to find a second email, this time directly from him. I was elated to discover that he was interested in discussing the topic of the Greek community in Suez. After seeing the pictures from my previous post, he provided me with the valuable information. This is an excerpt from an email sent by Prof. Philip M. Papaelias:

The abandoned Greek Consulate building on the photo was in fact the balcony of the classroom where I was studying for my final year of education in 1965.

The building was my school, and became consulate after it was closed down in 1967. My father was serving as teacher in both Greek schools, that one and the one in Port Tawfik. The consulate was three blocks further down, close to the Baladyiah square. On the side of this square there was the Greek Club. All these Greek buildings where in Saad Zaghloul street, the well known politician who said the famous words "Mafish faida" widely repeated since then by the Egyptians (and not only).

The mysterious church next to the school is Saint Catherine. Bank Misr str. is named so probably because of the Bank adjacent to the school in Saad Zaghloul street.

Please remember that French are naming Suez as Le Centre Du Monde (Center of the Earth).

The abandoned Greek Consulate was originally a Greek school before 1967. The second floor (R) housed the classroom in which Prof. Philip M. Papaelias studied for his last year of education (1965). 

I would like to thank Professor Philip M. Papaelias for the valuable information he provided. A lot more information can be found on his article 'The Greek Community Of Suez' as well as more articles, publications, books and contributions by the professor on his personal website centred around High Energy Astrophysics and Cosmology.

Pause Cairo: Play Suez (Part 1 - Exploration)

I left Cairo on Saturday morning to visit Suez to run a few errands. Since I have never visited the city before, I decided to explore it while I was there. The El-Suez road wasn't that long, being approximately 120 km from the fringes of Cairo. The road itself was relatively uneventful, with desert consuming the view from the car's windows on either side. The road is two lanes wide either way, and littered with large lorries transporting goods between Cairo and Suez. Suez is known for it's harbors (Port Tawfik and Port Ibrahim), and hardly much else; The harbors straddle the gulf of Suez, and therefore the city is of strategic importance in trade and politics, as well as a gateway into the Suez Canal from the Red Sea.

The city is quite small, with the governate boundaries coinciding with the city's limits. It was also seen as an important town in the past, with a branch of the Nile river reaching the town even before the canal was dug in the 19th century. It was used as a naval station by the Turks in the 16th century.

I was not there to marvel at the harbors or the constant flow of trucks carrying exports and imports going to and from the sea. I wanted to explore more of the city itself and the people that lived there. I knew it would be relatively easy since it wasn't that big. I found it even easier there when I talked to people and found them to be very friendly and helpful (That was a major plus considering I am Egyptian myself, as everyone in Egypt would be friendly to foreigners anyways.)

El-Corniche is one of the large, beautiful and, most of all, lonely boulevards of Suez

I drove around aimlessly at first, but eventually found myself on El-Corniche, which is the road between the sea and the city. It was large and well paved, and meticulously clean for an Egyptian city. It was also unusually empty with only the occasional car cruising past or person walking by. On one side of the road, a large statue of a soldier holding up a flag stared aimlessly into the distance with his mouth wide open. There was no plaque to provide information on the soldier, but I assumed it was to commemorate the soldiers who fought in third Arab Israeli war in 1967, where the city was abandoned for almost 6 years due to the fighting. This was not the only statue or mural in Suez with images of soldiers and war themes. Due to the strategic area Suez occupied, it featured in many wars, and the history was clearly etched in stone.

The statue of a soldier stares into the distance with a look of perpetual surprise and an arm out on El-Corniche

I moved on closer to Port Tawfik where I found turquise brine lakes and canals snaking through the city. I found a man and his two sons fishing with old fashioned bamboo rods that lacked reels, and just had a some line attached to one end, with a bobble and hook dipped in the water. I asked him what he was fishing for, and told me the brine waters were home to Shabar, a small tilapia fish similar to Nile water Bolti. I asked him where the fish market was here and he gave me directions leading deep into downtown Suez.

One of the brine canals of Suez

The wide boulevards near the sea started becoming progressively narrower and more crowded as I headed deeper inland, with older apartments covered in bright peeling paint. I drove into a small side street, with barely enough width for a car. As I slowly started to doubt the directions I received earlier, the buildings and roads stopped suddenly, and I found myself in a large sea of umbrellas, stalls, and people. I parked my car quickly and got out to the sounds of sellers yelling out small rhymes to attract customers to their stalls. I was in the middle of the city's vegetable market. I browsed the culture rather than the produce, and walked through the vast crowded market savoring the sounds and smells. I came across a woman selling fish amidst the vegetables, and knew that I was inching closer to the fish stands. I asked for a few more directions and found myself amidst piles and piles of fish of all sorts, ranging from sardines to sharks.

An assortment of fish, crabs and shrimp in one of the stalls of the traditional fish market

Mohammed, the son of a fish trader poses with the market serving as his backdrop

I was feeling a little hungry, so I left the market to explore Suez cuisine.  After asking around for a little while, it became clear that eating out wasn't a Suez thing to do, and most of the shops only provided breakfasts in the form of Fool We Ta'miya which are baked fava beans and fried fava bean paste. I decided that a light breakfast would do, so I asked a young man which breakfast place around here was one worth visiting. He gave me directions to Abu Rawash, which was located in a side street.

This narrow side street was called Bank Misr St., but I doubt it was called that throughout history. It contained Abu Rawash on one side and the mysterious church on the other.

I enjoyed the light breakfast, but was distracted. As I munched on a small sandwich, I stared up with curiousity at what seemed to be a large abandoned church on the other side of the narrow road. I walked around it and found another ancient building with Greek Consulate written on a small black sign hung on the door. There were two men sitting in front of the building with walkie-talkies, so I decided to ask them about it.

 The church's roof was adorned with stone crosses

 The stained glass windows were broken amidst other signs of obvious abandonment

Hassan was the name of one of the guards. He explained to me how the church and consulate were part of a Greek mission to Suez, and that they were hundreds of years old. He was assigned by the police to guard them as they were considered important pieces of architecture with historical value. Through my eyes, I did see the value, but I also saw a lot of neglect. Hassan said it might be open sometime in the future to tourists, after they finish building a museum celebrating Suez's history, near port Tawfik.

Part of the abandoned Greek Consulate building in Suez

Currently, Suez isn't really seen as a place to visit out of interest and curiosity. I believe however it does have the potential, and as much as I would hate to see it being over-run by tourists, it is in need of some restoration and perhaps an interest in visiting Suez could spark just that.

Cairo's Drug Culture: Part 1 - Hospital High

As much as a lot of people here would hate to admit it, Cairo has a thriving drug scene. From bungo (shwag) and hashish to heroin and cocaine, all are available. Some are so commonplace, such as the softer drugs, that it would actually be difficult not to come across it, whether it be through friends and family, or even over-friendly strangers in taxi cabs and hostels across Cairo.

As the scope on the subject of matter is vast, I've decided to separate it into different parts. In this part, I've decided to give a peek into the drug culture that stems from Cairo's hospitals. Many doctors and patients have had their first exposure to certain drugs in hospitals, especially sedatives. Many cases of drug overdoses, especially by Anesthesiologists have led to deaths in hospitals across Cairo, but often news of this is suppressed in the media. The stress from the working conditions and long hours in Cairo's government hospitals, as well as the shockingly low wages that young doctors earn in all hospitals in Cairo and the ease of access to drugs in the hospitals are all contributing factors to this problem.

Patients also have a certain amount of exposure to these drugs, especially in private hospitals, where everything you pretty much demand would be given to you, considering you will be paying for it. After being admitted following an accident, a good Cairene friend of mine describes below her experience with Morphine in one of the private hospitals in Cairo, which she believes has changed her life forever.

Every time I moved, a sharp pain would scream out like an orgasm from hell. Never have I dreamed such pain existed.

After screaming on the x-ray table, the doctors injected me with what I felt was the death sedative.It drained my head and aggressively pulled my brain from the sides. Not knowing or caring what I was given, I was happy to be quickly knocked out.

Due to my condition, a hidden whining ability and the fact that I was in Egypt, I managed to get myself injected everyday for the remainder of my one week hospital stay.It always took care of me, putting me into my place instantly with every injection.

It was either the 3rd or 4th day when I started experiencing abnormal things. One evening, during a routine visit from my doctor, the first sign of hallucination began. The doctor was standing in front of my bed, talking to me, I closed my eyes and opened them up again straight away. In that brief second I closed them I had a dream. A long dream, it felt like hours had passed, when only a second passed and the doctor was still talking away at the end of my bed.

The few following nights after were sheer insanity. A mixture of strong pain, long, dreadful waits between injections, no sleep, constipation, constant dehydration and vivid hallucinations passed my time.

From unrecalled conversations to seeing strange figures in the room to flying on a magic carpet of green neon lights with raindrop people, my powerful death sedative ensured me non-stop entertainment.

The raindrop people visited me every night. They'd wait until my mother was in deep sleep, then they'd dance into the room in an enormous whirlpool of orange, yellow and red neon lights. They never talked or looked at me, but they always stole all ideas of sleep and kept me company.

The last time I was injected was the morning before I checked out of the hospital. I was most terrified of the strong pain returning when I got home and not having any powerful death sedative to inject. The doctors were sure it wouldn't happen.

And it didn't, the pain ended there. It was like I went through the whole experience just to meet the powerful death sedative. I felt blessed. It was fate.

I had later discovered the true nature of the powerful death sedative I had been on for the entire previous week. I learned it was Morphine, one of the most dangerous and deadly drugs out there. Shortly after my discovery, I was introduced to Morphine withdrawal.

The three weeks after my last injection took me on a trip to hell and back. There were rarely nights I slept, the raindrop people would regularly visit & the nights they didn't, I was ensured others would.They would talk loudly and walk around all night, ignoring me, but showing clearly that the purpose of their presence was to irritate me. I would cry and scream for no reason during the day and spend the nights terrified of what was going to visit me that night.

I thought I was going insane.

Eventually the raindrop people & all the other night time visitors stopped coming. I guess they just got bored. And besides being immobile for the following three months, things had finally started getting back to normal.

Since then I have read a lot about this magic medicine I was given in the hospital. The fact that I was to stay in bed for three months didn't matter, it was Morphine I wanted. Never in my life has anything fascinated me to this extent. The power & effect of Morphine are extraordinary. Nothing consumes you the way Morphine does.

Recalling the experience in details now reminds me that it wasn't all like the glowing impression of neon lights I had chosen to remember it by.

Morphine is like a Taking Back Sunday song. Bittersweet. Orgasmic pulling in the head sending you complete euphoria and a nightmare withdraw. There is also the space in between. A sense of feeling like your wandering in space, not aware of the happenings which surround you. That's when the figures start to appear. No control.

Since then, I lost my fear of needles and being injected. I had discovered something magical, which is stronger, better and more fascinating than fast car rides, good concerts & other drugs. The rush of Morphine cannot be measured on a scale.

Regardless of the nightmare withdrawal, Morphine has taken my inspiration elsewhere. I'm now afraid nothing will ever top it.

Morphine is an opiate drug with potent effects and addictive properties, and a severe withdrawal reaction. All of these were demonstrated in the previous account, with details that immerse you into the situation. It would be hard for anyone who has not experienced it to describe it so vividly.

Cairo's Communities

Cairo is filled with people. With a constantly rising influx of people from rural areas, the significant birth rate that has government hospitals stretched to the limits as well as the relatively young population, Cairo is literally brimming with life. However, Cairo is home not only to native Egyptians, but small communities of foreigners have also established themselves in different parts of Cairo. I'm not talking about the western expats that have set a foothold in the affluent areas of Cairo manning skyward positions in the petroleum industry or the small and dwindling Greek community which have had a noticeable impact on how Cairo has evolved through times. I'm talking about the relatively young communities.

One of these communities for example is the Chinese door-to-door traders that have set up shop in Nasr City. Usually in couples, it would not be strange to see them move from building to building marketing their wares to housewives in the evening, or even to coffee shop patrons on the sidewalks of the Sixth District. Some have even managed to set up stalls in small markets, such as those found in sporting clubs. The Indonesian and Malaysian community have also taken up Nasr City as their home, ranging from students studying in Al-Azhar University to full-fledged families running small restaurants catering to their community's social and nutritional needs. The Sudanese community in Kilo Arba' We Nos are also another example, but with a far sadder story, having come here to escape persecution in Sudan only to find an unwelcoming environment in the poorest districts of Cairo. Wherever you look, you are bound to find people from different parts of the world living in Cairo, some managing well, others not so much so.

Maadi is notorious for its western expat community, with Americans, and Europeans littering the narrow streets, shops and restaurants of this old district. This has also managed to step up security in the area, but I am not sure whether the methods they employ is really that effective or not. With barricades forcing one to take turns they really didn't want to take, or menacing looks from officers if you fit a certain profile, it has certainly made Maadi a not-so-comfortable area to be in if you're not from around there, or at least familiar with it. However, one of the reasons I frequent Maadi a lot, is because of the wonderful dining that could be obtained there, and the different communities they represent. One of my favorite places to dine is Seoul BBQ on Street 263. With simple decor, this family-run restaurant could give you a small window to peek through at the Korean community in Maadi. With mainly Korean patrons frequenting the place, it is quite a sight. With their children running around the place, along with noisy chatter and laughter filling the restaurant, you'd be in for quite an experience, especially when the food arrives. A charcoal grill in the middle of the table is where the meat is grilled; thus allowing you to enjoy the aroma before you even set your chopsticks into it.

A large range of well-seasoned side dishes (banchan)  are always served with the meal at Seoul BBQ (shown here), often with a few surprises if you are not already familiar with Korean cuisine.

Cairo has never really had a native community per se. Situated at the crossroads of the Old World, it has been home to numerous communities, all throughout history. From the Greeks during the Ptolemaic dynasty to the Arabs of the Fatimid Caliphate, as well as the numerous occupations of more recent history such as that of the French and British; all of which have shaped Cairo and it's communities though the ages. Cairo's communities today are not necessarily as a result of its history; but rather a result of its nature.

Egypt Today, Party Yesterday.

Egypt Today is one of the few Egyptian English language magazines worth reading. Every month, it provides a myriad of articles covering Egyptian culture, controversies, and important but overlooked issues. Some of my favorites include 'Fishing for life' which explores the culture and living conditions of the river people, and another was the issue of methanol laced alcohol which is rife in Cairo's poor districts. Unfortunately there is something about the magazine which occasionally makes me cringe.

It's the ads and advertorials. 

It's not the fact they have ads that bother me; it's the ads' contents that have me feeling annoyed. Littered in the glossy pages of the magazine are dreamy and out-of-reach ads of new private compounds in the rich suburbs of the city where I will find peace and happiness, or flashy cars claiming to be the source of joy and comfort I am looking for. The jewelry I must decorate my presence with from high brow stores, or the luxury hotels and resorts that would provide me with my dream vacation. The gas guzzling SUVs that make me more of a man, or the spas that would bring out my femininity. The banks, cell phones, furniture and fashion... All a sum up of what to do with your supposed millions. What I don't understand is the expectation these corporate behemoths have... Do they suppose someone reading a popular Egyptian English magazine automatically has millions to spend on these items?

It's very rare for me to find an ad that I'm interested in. Last month's issue provided me with precisely one item I found interesting, and another two that were affordable but not really interesting. The interesting item was a solar water heater from Olympic Electric, and the other two items were Timberland sneakers that somehow make you faster than usual, and Lipton tea 'Taste of London'. The solar water heater didn't mention any hints about the price, but it seems like a good investment considering the environment and impending oil doom. The Timberlands are, ehh, kind of weird looking with a green glow that for some reason reminds me of nuclear waste. The Lipton tea promised the finest black tea you'll taste. Funny they call it the taste of London considering they don't grow any tea there, but I guess they consume a lot of it.

The advertorials. Oh the advertorials. Possibly the most obnoxious segment in the magazine. I swear to you, one of the headings was like this 'Four Seasons at The First Residence celebrates a decade of decadence'. I mean, I applaud the fact that they so blatantly honest, but come on. Look up decadence in any dictionary and you'd find scathing definitions encompassing terms like moral decay or self-indulgence. Most of the advertorials are like that; telling the world how much fun they had at last night's event or party. I mean what's the point of paying a magazine to print that out. How does it help you? You've already invited everyone you wanted to invite ages ago, and you've already had you're party. Now why do you need a loudspeaker in the form of an advertorial to tell everyone how you made everyone come in the same color outfits, or had Haifa Wehbe pose in a photo with you and your buddies.

Oh whatever.

River Fish

If there is one part of Cairo I am not familiar with as much as the others, it would have to be West-El-Balad, or Downtown. Perhaps Garden City as well. To me, they are both included in that same blob of Cairo stuffed with government buildings, nations' embassies, hotels, hostels, tourism offices, airline offices, countless restaurants, lots of bars, cinemas, cafes, mirror to mirror traffic, and, of course, tourists. As busy, exciting and important as it sounds, it's actually not that big a part of Cairo, but definitely one of the most crowded parts. In order for me to drive through the limitless traffic lights and one way twisted roads, and find legal parking spaces, I usually enlist a friend to guide me through it all. Last night, it was a surprising choice, as it was an Austrian friend, who, I am afraid to admit, knows more about Downtown than the three Egyptians that accompanied her that evening. As she barked out instant directions in the chaotic traffic, I complied with embarrassment, twisting and turning the steering wheel, heading for a boat ride which I never bothered to try before, believing it to be more of a trivial tourist attraction than a worthy outing, and that is the Felluca.

We parked in a side street near the Indonesian embassy, and walked our way to a small dock teaming with tourists and locals alike. On the waters, small wooden boats came and went, with sails made out of rags, dropping off and picking up people. We booked a boat to use, and waited for a small while. Soon we were swaying with the felluca, seated on cushions, chatting away and laughing in the Cairo evening. A friend remarked how peaceful it was to be so far away from Cairo, yet right in the middle of it. With the massive width of the Nile River sheltering us from the hustle and bustle of the city streets, we savored the summer breeze which is so hard to catch amidst the high buildings of Cairo. We pulled out drinks and snacks that we had brought along, and enjoyed a small meal on the boat.

After the pleasantly peaceful felluca ride, we decided to head out for sushi, and feeling adventurous, we agreed to have some at a place we haven't eaten at, or even heard of before, in Zamalek's Om Kalthoum Hotel, based on a cryptic recommendation. We parked close to the hotel, and asked about their sushi restaurant. After a few confused looks from the security man, the receptionist aided us in locating the place, which happened to be on the roof of the hotel. We headed up in the elevator to the 17th floor. As we exited the elevator, we were met by a surprising scene. One of my friend's claimed it reminded her of The Shining, with the blood red patterned wallpaper covering the walls, emitting a time-honored and vintage feel under the eerie glow of the old lamps. The atmosphere of the hotel definitely sparked my interest.

The 17th floor of the Om Kalthoum Hotel

The restaurant was directly on the roof, with small chairs and tables that looked quite worn. We were surprised to find it completely empty with not a single customer in sight, and only two waiters watching a small TV on the wall. We asked if this is where the restaurant is, and they confirmed it. We took a seat, and were given small menus with a small selection of rolls, nigri sushi, and other Japanese cuisine elements printed on it. I was surprised at how moderate the prices were compared to other sushi places in Cairo. The chef came to us to take our order personally. He was a young man, probably in his mid to late 20s with a relaxed demeanor about him. He was dressed in a white t-shirt, dark long shorts and sandals. I think he would pass more as a tourist than a chef at the hotel.

The order took a little while to arrive, but was definitely worth the wait. The selection was fabulous, and definitely felt fresh, with sparks of unexpected flavors, probably due to the chef's creativity in preparing the rolls and sushi. I personally felt like we have discovered a gold mine. There was no one else there yet the place was fabulous!


It all ended in a classic Cairo traffic jam on the way home. Such a bipolar city.