Internet Cafe Adventure

We leave Luxor very early in the morning and are checked into our Cairo Hotel by noon. The Zoser Hotel is another lovely 5 star bubble, but it is in the outskirts of Cairo, with 6 lanes of traffic separating us from the local neighborhood. We have two hours to eat lunch and settle in but I am determined to explore the vicinity and I need to send e-mail home. It is not the $10 per hour charge at the hotels' business center that deters me, but a longing to immerse myself in the back streets of the neighborhood, that propels me out of the hotel in search of an internet cafe. An armed security guard stands sentry outside the hotel and I ask him where I might find an internet cafe? He in turn ask a waiting taxi driver and I learn that there is one just two blocks away. I start to jog happily down the stairs but my freedom is abruptly halted by the guard who firmly takes my arm and descends the stairway with me. I am taken aback when he holds up his hand to halt the onrush of traffic and escorts me across the 6 lanes of traffic. The guard steers me by one arm, his machine gun hanging loosely off his other shoulder. Cars rush past us, swerving and braking as necessary in the afternoon rush of Cairo traffic. After successfully crossing the 6 lanes of traffic, I thank him, expecting him to return to his position in front of the hotel. His response is curt and he informs me that he will escort me to my destination. We walk the two blocks together in an awkward silence and I am relieved when we round the corner and see the internet cafe. His intent is to wait for me, but I tell him that I will be a long time and I hand him 10 Egyptian pounds, approximately $2.00. Satisfied, he leaves me in the dimly lit cafe. There are no more than 10 ancient computers positioned against the walls and several young men sit at dusty computers, playing games and surfing the internet. I log onto hotmail and miraculously I am online in seconds. I am delighted to have mail from home and my fingers fly across the keyboard in response. I feel comfortable here, more so than if I were in the sterile business center at the hotel. I may be in the middle east, but this internet cafe feels no different from the ones in the Galapagos, Costa Rica or Mexico. The man, working at the computer beside me, is writing an e-mail in English. He politely asks me how to spell several words and I hope that I give him the correct spelling. An hour passes quickly and I must go because our bus is to leave shortly. I rise, pay my 80 cents and begin to leave but the clerk stops me, indicating that he will call for an escort to take me back to the hotel. I wave him off, telling him that I don't need an escort and sprint out of the door and down the street. It is a delightful street, aligned with the small shops consistent with a real neighborhood. I know that I stand out, American tourist that I am, but people smile and I smile back and I throughly enjoy my two blocks of freedom. My great concern is how to cross back over the 6 lanes of traffic to our hotel. There are no crosswalks within sight, but two women, dressed in black abayas and burkas are positioned at the curb, about to make their treacherous journey across to the other side. I sidle up beside them and step off the curb when they do. I surmise that they are mother and daughter; the younger of the two women in her late 20's. She turns to me, smiles and tells me not to be afraid. I feel as if I am playing "Frogger." We somehow avoid collision with the oncoming traffic and are safely half way across, standing on the medium. Three more lanes to go! I am surprised and delighted when the young woman takes my hand and guides me across the remaining three lanes of traffic. It is encounters such as this, that reinforce my determination to break away from the pack.