Arrival

Just arrived at my hostel in Cairo after the longest series of flights ever. The flight from NY was actually really pleasant. Watched Iron Man 2, had a decent airplane meal, and slept fairly well considering I was sitting upright. I'm tired, but that's to be expected. My flight from Charlotte to NY was hell, and continues to haunt me even though I'm a couple thousand miles away from it. So we get delayed by half an hour waiting for a clearing at JFK for when we will arrive. We board, taxi out, and then turn around because the AC apparently busted in the course of time it took to move a few feet. That took close to an hour. So my flight was delayed in total by two hours. I land in NYC, and lo and behold, the landing patch isn't open, so we have to wait for another plane to board and leave before we can connect. So I start freaking out. It's 5:30, boarding starts for my flight at 5:45, and I have no control over the situation. The flight attendants ask the passengers who do not have connecting flights or can afford to wait to do so. And of course, it's people going to NY, so absolutely no one did because God forbid you act with courtesy for someone else. And of course I get stuck behind a woman with a thick Long Island accent that I can only assume has no connecting flight who is on a respirator and not exactly making good time. Once I get past the mess of people, I make a dash for the airtrain to take me to my terminal and I am fortunate enough to have made my flight just in time. I sat next to Anwar Sadat's doppleganger and his family on the way to Egypt.

So I land in Cairo, and, of course, my luggage isn't there. I wasn't too surprised by that. The only thing that was weird is that some of the people who shared my difficulties on the Charlotte flight going to Cairo had some of their bags, but not all of them, which makes me wonder how they actually handle baggage at airports. How do you only get half of a family's bags into the plane? I assume they're all moved at once unless they got lost elsewhere. But even then, that would require taking a family's bags at some point in time and breaking them up or leaving some of them behind. It blew my mind.

But yeah, I got checked into the hostel alright. Driving here was awesome. It was like mixing North Korea with Grand Theft Auto. There was propaganda everywhere since the airport is located near a lot of military installations and some Saddam-esque portraites of Mubarak. Driving in Cairo is laughably nuts. People drive down the middle of a lane like the line is a recommendation. There aren't traffic lights anywhere. People just turn wherever and honk repeatedly at people who can't move, or people who can move, are moving, behaving totally normally, but you just feel like honking. My driver had the webbing of his thumb on the horn at all times so he could easily squeeze the horn, which he did gratuitously, though not more than any other driver. My favorite way in which I saw this trait manifest itself was when I drove past a three car fender bender in a tunnel leaving Nasr City. The guys got out of their cars, screamed at each other about whose fault it is, got back in, and drove off like it didn't happen. I'm told this is standard Cairo fare for car accidents. As I sit in my room writing this, there is at least one horn a second going off in front of my room, which faces a busy street. I actually love it. It gives the city some life and makes you feel like you aren't alone, which is a feeling I hate at night in my room. So if I were to describe Cairo on my first few impressions, it would say its old, has a GTA approach to driving, sandy, and a fleshpot.