During my trip to London and France I felt a kind of longing that I had never felt before. It wasn't homesickness, I was much too busy for that, and it wasn't solely missing Wahied either. It was a feeling that I'm sure a lion would feel if someone took him out of his natural habitat and set him loose in Hyde Park--not desperation, but rather a jarring sense that it wasn't where he belonged.
Even knowing that I wouldn't see Wahied for at least another day (he was in Sinai) the sense of relief (comfort? excitement?) I felt when I landed in Cairo was so overwhelming I nearly kissed the ground like the Pope and skipped through the terminal. (Thankfully, I managed to appear more composed than I felt and kept the kissing and skipping to a minimum)
Much to my own surprise (and Anita's horror) I realised that I love Cairo. And more than that, for the first time I realised that I belong here. I had missed everything around me.
I had actually missed the way the air smells, even though I know it's disgusting.
I missed the traffic and the bustle that was overwhelming, even at 1:00am
I missed how the outcome of any situation depends on how you want it to turn out (and how nice you are and how much you're willing to pay)
I missed the people and how warm, curious, and unconventional they are.
I missed the weather, which is warm but never too warm.
I missed the sand and the garbage in the street, just because I'm used to them.
I missed the children playing in the middle of the highway in the middle of the night, because neuroses and over protectiveness don't make better kids.
I missed seeing sedans full of sheep, bicycles carrying lawn mowers, children carrying gasoline, men carrying babies, and women carrying more babies.
I missed having to wait 45 minutes to park my car before eventually driving off and parking somewhere else, because my parking guy wouldn't interrupt his lunch for me.
I missed all of the chaos and disorder and dirt and incompetence as much as I missed everything wonderful here.
I'm home.
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1 comment:
Good for you. You now know how I feel about Florida, and how I used to feel about Hyde Park. I got the same feeling in Dahab, oddly, and in El Minya. Both felt very much like home, but for radically different reasons (obviously).
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