Turns out there’s actually quite a bit of homework involved in this “fellowship” thing. I feel like I’ve spend most of the last 2 days plowing through the Yacoubian Building and I still have more work for tomorrow. Will it never end? Answer: most certainly not. But I’m not complaining.
After being stifled in my apartment all day aside from a misadventure to the grocery store that was characterized by paranoia, confusion, and congestion, I road a boat on the Nile for a little bit and then ended up having a fairly pleasant but perhaps not that interesting of a night with other human beings. We ended up at the Cairo Jazz Club and a really neat band, Station, was playing so we enjoyed moving to the rhythm for a spell before peacing. The band was a fusion of all kinds of styles and I could definitely feel a Sufi inclination in it…the beat in some of the songs felt like trance music and I wanted to let my hair down and float away.
But the story that I want to tell involves vomit and is from a few weeks ago. When we were still newly arrived to Doqqi, roommate and I were walking along one of the main streets and all of the sudden we saw a man that was ralphing up a storm right outside of a pharmacy. It was in the middle of the day and we weren’t sure what exactly was wrong with him, but out of nowhere he just started hurling almost directly in front of us into a drain. It was very strange. No one took notice, or maybe everyone turned a blind eye. I wish I could have done so.