My Neighborhood of Nazlet Samaan

Asalamu Alaykom,


After praying fajr, my husband and I both read until the sun shone brighter, and then he said to me, "Do you want to go for a walk?"

I do like to go for quiet walks in our neighborhood.  Here are pictures of another time we went.

El-Kid was still sleeping off a busy week at school, so I left him a note:  "We went out for a walk.  Be back soon!"

It only took two blocks before I saw this juxtaposition of barbed wire and flowers.  I wished that I'd brought my phone.  I don't even think of bringing my camera any more.  My husband handed me his phone and I snapped away as we ambled through our neighborhood next to the pyramids.

It was so early out on the streets that there were more animals than people.

This is my neighborhood.  Yes, I feel blessed to be here.  Yes, I sometimes forget to feel blessed.

The carriages were parked perfectly for a ready-made photo shoot.

My husband pointed out this door knocker.

I love all the old doors.

I love the colors and textures.

Someone spent time scratching out Morsi's face.

Doors open into possibilities and the symbolism is meaningful to me.

Morsi peering out from the faded past.

All of these doors will disappear some day.  I know that taking pictures of them today means that they will survive in this digital form tomorrow.

This is the wall separating our neighborhood and the historic Giza Plateau.  My husband, as a child, used to be able to clamber up the hill.  Now, there are cameras on the other side.

Love the unexpected patterns.

This is one of my favorite finds from today.  It looks like a fairy house.  

Doesn't this upside-down horseshoe mean that their "luck" is running out?

The colors on this street are reminiscent of an oil pastel.

I know you see the horse, but do you see the passenger?

My husband pointed out the camel that I hadn't seen at first.  Camels always seem to pose.

Gorgeous colors and art noveau make me happy.

  

It's the aged imperfections that grab me.

This was maybe my favorite door of the day.  It had so much going on with it.  I had my husband take a picture of me in front of it.  I looked too tired, so you won't be seeing that.

Glorious.  I only wish I'd taken a better picture of it---just cock your head to the right a little.

Do you see the cat?  It wondered what I was doing.

This is the end of the road.

Wait.  Maybe this was my favorite door.  Yes, it must have been because I took four photos of it.

To me, this is modern art.  If this was hanging up on a museum wall, you would see that as the truth.  Someone spent time perfecting this and those choices added up to an artifact of human expression

This is on the other side of the door.

Love this.  It is a locked door, but it has all these really unusual openings.

The last house next to the wall is slowly crumbling away.

This is not a great picture.  It's a memory that I wanted to share.  There are so many sights and sounds where I live.  There are constant surprises.  The morning had been so quiet--silent.  Everyone was asleep!  Then, I heard a bird-like squawking in the parking lot for the carriages.  As we got closer, I realized that it was a little puppy.  It was all alone---not a mama dog in sight.  I asked my husband if there was anything we should do for it.  There really wasn't.  You don't really help the wild animals and stay safe or sane.  I took this picture and we moved on.  Life has to be like that here.  This is coming from the same woman who was bitten in America by a stray dog she had tried to help across the busy street.

More animals!  The street named for pigeons was getting some chickens.

My husband started bartering.

Again, I am constantly surprised in Egypt.  I feel so alive and connected at times like this.

I thought this was a rooster because of the comb, but it was a hen.

There was a lot of swearing----to God, of course, that he was being offered the best price.

Our walk without any agenda ended up with purchasing dinner.

Look, I have thought about leaving Egypt.  I won't lie.  I have wondered if there is somewhere better for me...for us.  Even after I signed this year's contract, I applied for a job "back home".  The problem is that the U.S. isn't home any more.  

For one hour, I found so much to love in Egypt.  That's all I needed to find all of this---and it was right out my front door!  It isn't a perfect place but it's home...it's our home.

Egyptian Rug Shop

Asalamu Alaykom and Jummah Mabrook,

Come with me to the rug shop up the street.

I know that our street in the picture looks more like a beach than a section of asphalt.  It's yet another one of those "malish" moments.  "Malish" means "no problem".  Actually, if you look at the sandy street in positive light it's kind of cool to see all those tire tracks, footprints and pawprints.

This dog is mine.  His name is George.  I named him George because he looks like children's literature's Martha the Dog.  Get it?  George and Martha Washington?  Ya, well, when I am waiting for the schoolbus for 20 minutes it's a way to pass the time.

Sure, George is still a wild dog.  I don't bring him in off the streets; the streets are his home.  When I go out, I keep my eyes open for his return.  He has a slight limp, some sores show through his coat, yet he seems so happy.  Can animals really be happy living on the streets?  I think they can.

Let's keep going.

Jump in the microbus.  If you don't have the half pound, I'll pay for you.

This is one of those times I love Egypt.  No, the bus isn't loaded with a radio BUT it does have a duck puppet!

Here we are!  This is the rug shop.  The long building used to be all rugs but, since there are no tourists, a third of it is now devoted to tires.

The shop used to sell the kind of touristy rugs foreigners buy and bring home.  Now?  It mostly sells rugs that locals need to warm up their cold tile floors.

Look!  It just got a new shipment from the weavers.  The rug weavers are located in the countryside near Fayoum.  They work out there and then pile up a truck and head for the city.  There are still industrious people in Egypt and those willing to do business with them.  Those hard workers didn't give up; they just changed their strategy.

It's smart how they've added floor pillows to their stock.

I grew up walking on rag rugs.  There is something so homespun and beautiful about each line of color.

See what I mean?  Someone crafted that rug.  It is unique.  No where in the world is there another rug exactly like that and it's beautiful.

It would be nice if I were able to buy a rug like that at Target, but since we don't have Targets here, I'll buy from this shop.  Even if we did have one of the big chain stores, I'd rather buy from this shop.   The thing that charms me about a rugs here is that is a real person who lives an hour up the road from me made it and purchasing it very directly helps two families stay afloat financially.

There are other styles and colors.

I love this wall of fringe.

I want it but I worry how much of a dust collector it is.  Dust is a constant enemy in Egypt.  Ahhh...Look at those colors!  Gorgeous!

There are still some tourist rugs hoping to be bought.

I rather like that one.  Would I hang it in my home?  I don't know.

If you saw that rug in an art museum, would you believe it was valuable?  I bet you would.  Well, it hangs on a wall in a little shop in Giza without anyone to admire it.

Okay, this rug is a total tourist scene yet there's still artistry in it.

Just in case you weren't sure where you bought the rug, it's been spelled out for you.

"Did I buy that rug in Amsterdam? Hmmmmm....noooo."

"Milan?  I don't think it was Milan...."

"Wait!  Let me look at the rug!  It says EGYPT.  I must have bought it in Egypt!"

My mom would appreciate the simplicity of beige and cream lines.

For me, I love this patterned arrangement of colors.

I even love the blemishes.  I am soooo blemished and when I see it in life I feel like I've found a kindred spirit.

I really want this row of three hanging compartments.  If only I could figure of what to use it for....and then, of course, there's the dust issue again.  It's beautiful, though, isn't it?

There really is so much beauty in the world.  Going out in search of it means that you still have hope.  You still believe in a good world.  When you find it carefully crafted or artistically arranged, you are connected to someone else who cared and believed.

Let's keep on believing.