Pause Cairo: Play El-Sahel (Part 2 - Taposiris Magna Revisited)

I did not get much sleep the night before last, with Taposiris Magna on my mind, and myself in it's vicinity. I decided to see it again, this time with more eye for detail and the surrounding areas. I packed my camera and wore my heavy-duty clothes (perhaps heavily-worn clothes would be a more accurate term) and set for the ancient ruins again.

The main enterance to the temple enclosure.

The sun was up in the sky, the glare was a little less than last time, with a little cloud cover. I knew I had about two to three hours til sunset, and hoped I could make the most out of them. I was greeted a lot more warmly this time, with a few more members of the family living in the shadows of the ancient city coming out to see me. We sat out in the yard, on a straw mat, with a sheesha-pipe being passed around and sweet tea being served. We chatted about everyday matters and how the North Coast used to be before the city-dwellers' invasion. A little while later, Mardy (who guided me through the ruins previously) told me would could head out now, because there was a lot more he wanted to show me.

The eastern face of the temple enclosure, including the main enterance. The rugged landscape around it contain an abundance of ancient pottery shards and stone blocks, weathered with time and history.

We drove up to the temple enclosure again, but this time I decided I have seen enough of what was inside and wanted to explore the area around it. As we walked through the rocky desert landscape, I began to realise strange things. On the ground I was stepping on, there were large stones that seemed to have been placed in rows next to each other. I stepped back a little and realized they were buried walls, possibly of courtyards or buildings. I asked Mardy about it, and he said that it probably is ancient, but no one really had explored it yet.  He mentioned that some of the walls had an ancient form of cement on them, but that it was probably placed there in more recent history, by the Bedouins that roamed the area a few hundred years ago.

Part of a wall made out of ancient blocks of stone peek out of the rocky sands. The dark material holding the stonework together indicate that a primitive form of cement was used, possibly by Bedouins of the coast a few centuries ago.

Even stranger was an abundance of pottery shards on the ground. I picked up one of them, and realised from the wear that was apparant on them, that they must be ancient. They were strewn across the landscape, being much more abundant than natural debris - In fact when I asked Mardy about it, he told me that to them, it has become a part of their natural environment, with possibly millions of ancient pottery shards from the Ptolemaic dynasty littering the landscape.

The handle of a jar made out of clay is evident on the wall of a dug up site, near the salt beds. The site has been excavated in the past by a French expedition.

We got back into my car and drove deeper in land. We passed through a small village, with fig trees growing out of the sand around the small brick homes. The track was narrow and uneven, with desert scrub scraping the bottom of the car as we moved through it. We finally reached what I had believed was part of Lake Mariut, with it's waters gleaming in the sunlight. We got out and walked over a little hill. That's when I realised it wasn't a lake in the traditional sense - it was more of a wet salt bed. What I thought were lake waters turned out to be a gleaming sea of white salt. I was stunned by it's beauty.

This lake played tricks on my eyes. As I closed in on it, it turned out to be a shimmering salt bed, without a drop of water in sight.

After pinching some of the salt crystals and tasting it, I explored the area around it. There were stones set up in the mud around the salt bed - this time they seemed to be a bit more explored, with some obvious digging having been done around them. Mardy told me this was an ancient Ptolemaic sea port. There had been a lot of agriculture in the area during the Ptolemaic times, with barley and grapes being grown in the area. The port served to move these goods to different cities in the region and abroad. There were even pottery shards in the area that were a little different from near the temple. They consisted of long arms and large brims, indicating that they were possibly large amphorae that were used to carry the wine produced here.

A part of the ancient sea port with a an entrance still standing. The port has been used to to transport agricultural goods to other cities in the region.

A closer look at the stonework found on the ground of the port at the salt bed.

In the last leg of the journey, I decided to get a closer look at the Pharos lighthouse. When we reached it, I realised it was a lot larger than it seemed from afar. It's condition was magnificent for something that has been built between 285 and 246 BC, with an imposing presence from up close. I was astounded. We walked around it and I was surprised to find a small entrance. While I pondered  whether it would be safe to go inside there, Mardy took off, running into the dark tower. I heard his fast steps climb through the tower, and went in after him, deciding perhaps acting first and thinking later would be a good ideology, at least in certain situations.

This tower is the assumed alexandrine pharos lighthouse replica. It has been built around the same time the original has been built, between 285 and 246 BC.

It was dark inside, with narrow steps going up. It started off with stone steps, but then turned into wooden ones that creaked eerily under my feet as I ascended. After a few dark and dangerous flights, I finally found Mardy, standing on top of the lighthouse, with a cheeky smile on his face. As soon as I came up and looked around, my jaw dropped open. I could see everything. The salt beds, the sea, the villages, the resorts, the roads, and the temple. The view was humbling.

The first few steps in the lighthouse were strong and reliable, and part of the original stonework. The more recently placed wooden stairs that climb up to the top had a more perilous feel to them, being narrow and flimsy.

The temple enclosure was a magnificent sight to behold from the top of the lighthouse.

We sat on the ancient stonework, and looked all around us. The sun was setting in the distance behind the clouds. It was the same sun that I have seen set thousands of times, over many years and many landscapes. The sunset this time though was different. With all that I have seen in just a few hours, I felt a touch of disappointment knowing I wouldn't be seeing it again, at least not very soon. It would be hard for me to explain the feeling that washed over me throughout the experience, but I suppose that the state I was in, was a state of awe.

Pause Cairo: Play El-Sahel (Part 1 - Taposiris Magna)

Visiting El-Sahel El-Shamaly (The North Coast) has been a relatively new tradition that Cairenes have adopted. Over the last 30 years, the Mediterranean Coast near Alexandria has seen one pilgrimage after another of families from Cairo hitting the resort towns and beaches during the summer. Leaving behind the cramped apartments and stuffy streets, and opting for sandy beaches and summer breezes, they find it to be quite relaxing. Personally though, I was never really fond of being part of the city hoards that eat up the North Coast every summer. I feel a certain type of guilt watching Al-Arab or the Bedouin people of the coast taking up jobs like gardening or sanitation and giving up their previous way of living.

The turquoise waters and sandy beaches are the main reasons Cairenes flock to the North Coast in the summer.

Nevertheless, here I am, enjoying the breeze (albeit, with a hint of reluctance) and typing away, ready to share some of the experience.

There are many things to do here; you can hit the beach or swimming pools and share the waters with the old paunched men in colourful trunks, or relax on the sands, perhaps try to get a tan, and share the sun with their bikini-clad jailbait daughters. Personally, I prefer going for a swim in the most remote part of the beach available, and at an early hour while everyone else is asleep (sleeping hours are from 5am to 5pm on the North Coast, so an early hour could be noon if you wish).

Wild grass growing in an untended garden in a resort - The greenery on the North Coast is mostly grown rather than wild, but is a delight to Cairenes who have been surrounded most of the year by concrete and asphalt.

This morning, I decided to visit an archaeological site close to the resort I am staying in.  In Abusir, a small village near Alexandria, bordering on Lake Mariut, the remains of an ancient town are strewn on the landscape. Taposiris Magna was built during the Ptolemy era, with not much left of it except for a temple dedicated to Osiris, as well as an ancient replica of the Alexandrine Pharos lighthouse, built by Ptolemy II Philadelphus. There isn't much of the temple itself standing, with only the walls of it's enclosure towering high around it. However, the site has been used for centuries after it has been built, with evidence of a Byzantine Church, as well as ladders leading to the top of the walls that Romans have used as a fort.

A view of the Alexandrine Pharos lighthouse replica from within the enclosure of the temple. The high walls have been restored to some degree by the expedition working on the site. The low walls in the foreground are the remains of the Byzantine era Church.

I parked my car at the foot of the hill on which the enclosure was located. I walked out into the glaring sun and looked around. There wasn't anyone around, but a faint rustling from a small makeshift building caught my attention. A small girl with frizzy brown hair peaked out at me from behind the door before running back inside. 

Two men came out, one large and burly, sporting a short beard, and the other younger and skinny. I asked them if it was possible to take a look inside and snap a few photos. The larger one asked me suspiciously who I was working for, and I jokingly said I worked for the government. They didn't seem to find it funny. Judging from the accents and demeanor, it was clear they were settled Bedouins. Soon enough though, they found my intention to be pure, and the younger one accompanied me up the hill to guide me. He told me I wasn't allowed to take photos from the inside, but could take a few from outside, and at certain points inside. I asked him why, and he told me that the archaeologists (led by our own Zahi (Not-Again) Hawass and Kathleen Martinez from the Dominican Republic) wouldn't want people taking photos of their 'discoveries' without their permission*.

This section of the wall enclosure shows the various stages of change it has gone through. At the very top is some of the original stone wall as it has been discovered. On the left, the darker stones are some of the early restoration efforts, using local materials. On the right are patches of the lighter stones imported from Giza during recent restoration efforts.

We walked  through the temple, and instead of finding squared off archaeology tape, I was surprised to find cigarette butts and soft drink cans lying around the edges. It was a bit better deeper inside though, with piles of ancient pottery shards waiting for examination and classification on display, as well as the well preserved remnants of pylons and columns strewn about. Faint outlines showed different chambers, with my personal guide describing their presumed history. We came onto a deep shaft, where Zahi Hawass got stuck earlier while descending in a faulty device that looked more like a big red birdcage. The device was actually still there. I smiled mischievously as I played out the incident in my head. Apparently they did find something in the shaft; two skeletons and a few gold items.

There are rumors going about that Queen Cleopatra and her lover Mark Anthony may be buried at Taposiris Magna. It is speculated that they were likely to be buried in a deep shaft like the one Zahi got stuck in. Although their tomb hasn't been found, a bust of Cleopatra as well as a few gold coins with her face on it were found. Looking back at the place, it seems like there's a lot of ground still to be uncovered, even though they have been working at it since 2005. Just two months ago, a man-sized headless statue of Ptolemy IV was discovered there - It made me wonder why it took five years to discover it. Every layer that they dig up however contains a new set of discoveries, and judging by the ground I trod on, as well as the large holes that have been excavated, I know there's still a lot more work to be done. Perhaps some day they will find Cleopatra and her lover.

*Without wanting to seem rude, I'm not a really big fan of Zahi Hawass, the Egyptian 'Master' Archaeologist. I believe he's got too much of his nose dug into Egypt's ancient past, with his face plastered across every new discovery. There's also his tendency to explain how he does all that he does for 'Egypt', but somehow most Egyptians are extremely uninformed of Egypt's history, let alone daily discoveries, with most expeditions representing experts from outside of Egypt, and a general lack of education and skill in the field locally. I'm not saying he's incapable - I'm just saying I'd rather see more faces describing Egypt's discoveries, with a more communal rather than monopolizing approach to our history.

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.