friend from Dahab

We left Cairo near half past nine, quite early considering my 5am return from the Omar Sharif film cast party on the Nile the night before. Following a brief shisha and tea with my Egyptian friend Tarik and Swedish friend Stefan, the three of us caught a microbus to Giza, but before delving into the minutiae of my pyramidal adventure I'd first like to share a few words about Tarik, a truly unique character. A former man of the street the face of the fifty-something Egyptian was that of leather, worn, marked by creases stretching the length of his forehead and far more defined and deep than his age would suggest. Fifteen years ago the street beggar cleaned up his act, quit drugs and drinking, the impetus for said drastic changes I suspect was a European woman he met and maybe loved. He has spoken about a Western woman who gave him the advice to extricate the 'Egyptian” sense of time from his mind. When dealing with Western tourists, always be punctual and on time, if not early. To best illustrate the concept of Egyptian time I refer to my recent lesson in Arabic noting there are no words in commonly used Ammaya or Egyptian Arabic to specify a time increment of less than five minutes. That is, there are only words for five after, ten after, one-quarter past, one-third past, ten till half past, five till half past, and so on. In addition, a time, say 5:31, is commonly referred to in Arabic either by five till half past, half past, or five after half past; there is a ten minute window of time that is, by Egyptian standards, is completely equivalent. None of these is more correct of a response than the other. With this understanding of the Egyptian notion of time one can begin to understand the magnitude of change in behavior required for an Egyptian to become punctual in the Western sense. And now Tarik is truly the most punctual Egyptian I have met in my two and a half weeks here in Cairo. To say his life has been hard would be the understatement of the decade; one look at his face and you see years of accumulated worry and struggle that many in America and elsewhere in the West could not begin to fathom. Despite his relatively small stature, the man stands tall and proud, having spent the last fifteen years off the streets, working two jobs in Dahab to pay for private lessons for his two daughters. He is still a man of meager means and even so, he refused to let Stefan and I reimburse him for the numerous coffees, teas, and shishas he has purchased for us. To accept something like this would be an act of charity in his eyes, and it is this pride in being honest, he would contend, that sets him apart from the everyday impoverished beggar. I would say in addition it is his firm belief in moral absolutism, his notion of right and wrong, that distinguishes him from people in many cultures. Albeit, he is a bit rough and sometimes crude, these are simply byproducts of having spent the majority of his life fighting for each meal. His soul is kind and his magnanimous actions reflect his truly genuine character. He treats us as friends. He treats us as Egyptians. And he makes us feel at home...
Unfortunately it is past my bedtime. Tomorrow, insha'allah (God willing), I will write about the horse ride in the desert, riding frantically from the cops, and tell of more fascinating people I have met along the way.