Reflecting in the Station…

This is such a random post, and it’s funny because I don’t have much to say!

*gasp!*

Totally unlike me, but I’m currently in a metro (underground) station close to the famous Pyramids. I’m meeting a landlord to see a flat in the area and I’m just marvelling at the magnitude of people who’ve passed through the station in the 20 mins I’ve been here.

If I ever thought that there was a ‘typical’ Egyptian look, I couldn’t be further from the truth. I’ve seen towering Egyptians, small Egyptians, fair Egyptians and those who have a shade quite close to mine. I’ve seen a Coptic monk who could easily have been mistaken for a Muslim were it not for the huge glimmering crucifix that bounced on his chest as he walked; and I’ve seen women covered from head-to-toe in an elegant drape of black cloth.

The station is buzzing with a flurry of activity as people drag luggage on their way to spend Eid with loved ones. Some even have boxed gifts that are expertly balanced on their heads (hands-free) as they make their way through the ticket barriers.

It’s been quite nice being an observer, wondering where people are heading, what their lives are like, what happiness and joys they’d willfully share and how they’ll be spending the Eid holiday.

I’ve come to accept my station here during the festivities, and am wishing everyone a very ‘Happy Feast!’

– The Londoner

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About LaYinka Sanni

Editor & Writing Coach -- "... connecting dots, one sentence at a time..."

Posted on November 14, 2010, in Ramblings, Ruminations about Cairo and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.

  1. You too lady, you’re seriously missed here.

  2. People watching is my favourite thing to do here ever! I love taking the microbus to my office in Nasr City. I can take a cab everyday no problem but it would not get to people watch. I have to stop in Said Ayesha to transfer and that is like the microbus station. OMG the crowds. The fighting to get on. The swearing. The smoke. The fuul trolley. The clothes. The beggers. The stalls. Sometimes I swear I actually miss my bus just because I’m staring at some scene that I just can’t quite take in. I hope it never goes. I don’t want to get used to it. I enjoy it too much. It’s like free, live TV.

    • It must be a daily spectacle, and I’m guessing the thrill must come from the fact that it’s something different every time.

      I think I’m going to people-watch some more, although I’m not yet brave enough to microbus anywhere on my own yet. People-watching might just be the thing to get back into the swing of writing seriously.

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