Yalla Gaballeya - Egypt
The founder/director of Yalla Gaballeya and the CMA’s only foreign mountaineering instructor walk into a bar. They last met 5 years ago, respectively, as a high school physics teacher and a frustrating student.
Gordon and I picked the Meramees hostel for our 3-day stay in Cairo. Its proximity to the El Horreya Cafe and other points of interest downtown allowed for an ease of exploration on foot.
We understood the importance of walking through a city - even when our objectives were elsewhere and far.
We are joined by Gordon’s friends, Michelle and Julio, for 2 days. Minarets in the distance act as waypoints - their unique tips make them well suited to the task, and double as friendly flags to their respective religions.
In some areas, the environment brims with a natural and childish enjoyment - but only whilst our presence is unregistered; The current state of Egyptian tourism segregates the tourist - and their money - from the people. The resulting starvation manifests in acts of “casual begging” from children - greeting and asking for tips in a single swoop.
Feeling a fatigue from the gaze of locals, high and low, we remove our shoes and duck into a mosque.
Each mosque was a haven from the streets - for rest, studies, or prayers - and each entrance hall as soothing as hypnosis.
Mihrab - The wall that indicates the direction of the Kaaba in Mecca.
On the bottom left, taps to ablute onself before prayer. Some mosques retain a fountain in its square, but fewer still are functional - washrooms are preferred.
Mosques host students of the Quran as well, many of whom have travelled from Indonesia or the Philippines. On these grounds, at these times, agnostics and muslims alike share an appreciation for the serenity.
Rifqi, an Indonesian student of the Quran.
As the sun sets, and at Gordon’s insistence that we navigate, instead of … using a map, we are: lost.
Learning the local dialect beforehand has been an invaluable task in my past travels. I did not do that this time, but nothing would change if I did.
Gordon approaches a group of young adults gathered around a tuk tuk and asks for directions. A conversation ensues in Arabic, and Gordon nods.
Photo submitted to a machine learning database for the emotions [panic] [anxiety] [fear] [regret] [regret] [regret] [regret].
“Hop on”, Gordon says.
With a sudden jolt, the tuk tuk springs to life. Our driver threads the bustling maze of a downtown after dark - each turn sudden, each junction disorientating, and each obstacle cleared by only centimeters.
We arrive at dinner just fine. I thought it was pretty mild.
(It was not mild. It was like a carnival pirate ship blew its bearings and threaded 300 disney castles in succession. The ride was a looney-toons rendition of the phrase “high velocity - low drag”. There’s Dominic Toretto, then there’s a bigger fish - our tuk tuk driver. We went through the streets so fast even collision wasn’t rendered on the NPCs we must’ve hit. The experience could just have easily been a teachable moment, but now what it teaches is questionable. )
Never seen a beauty like you before.
And never seen a beauty like you since.
Photos and Writing by: Feilian Du