Heartbeats of History

It wasn’t my first time. I’ve been there a lot. I’ve walked endless times in its narrow alleys, wearing humble clothes, face covered by the shades of the small artistic houses, handcrafted by anonymous creators. I knew the place by heart, although it’s my first time to be actually there. I read a lot about it in Egyptian classical novels and about the soul of its dervishes. The actual place isn’t so different than how my imagination perfectly pictured it. Even the people carried the same ancient identity of the book characters. It’s strange how time fails or perhaps preserves some cultures over history, and keeps them unchanged no matter what happens to the rest of the world! I was in El-Hussein neighborhood in Cairo. I left Alexandria for a few days to attend a cultural project by the British Council.

The sunlight glittered on the handmade crafts sold on the square’s floor. I dropped my bag in a motel, took off towards Cairo’s center where the program took place. I was very excited about the event, yet more excited about getting back to start my discovery adventures.

When I arrived, the night was celebrating all over El-Hussein, crowded with men, women, children, lovers, sellers… all in harmony. I contemplated oriental necklaces that were made of old coins being sold. Amazing how women can wear the history of a nation on their chests, this way history is safe. I walked farther, through the dark narrow alleys that were completely safe and semi-empty. The passersby appeared like ghosts, and the beauty of the hewed houses dominated my inspiration. I was literary part of this museum.

I kept walking until the streets and emptiness intersected. Hence, a far voice of a Sufi Sheikh chanted unfathomable prayers. I perused it till the gates of Hussein mosque. The mosque embraced homeless people, cats, insects… together in harmony, unlike the city mosques. I felt I was in the House of God. I watched how Sufis circled musingly repeating verses of the Holy Quran in the same breath. Shiites were kissing the golden door of the mosque. I remembered how Christians glorify Jesus to reach The Father, and smiled at the philosophical similarity. I came back to my room that I was uncomfortable to touch when I first checked in. In the middle of my sleep a cockroach walked beside me. I smiled at it and closed my eyes again.

It is amazing how a huge city like Cairo embraces such detached beating culture inside its heart! Earth still puzzles me with its wise illogical facts.