I’m writing this from my balcony.
This balcony is so different than the one that came with out first Cairo apartment ten months ago. This one sits close to the street two floors above the ground and has a big fancy railing offering privacy. It has painted roman pillars and terra cotta walls with white tile flooring. Very grandeur compared to the balcony on the eighth floor of our first building. The first balcony, and the last. Between them were three others, each offering very different views, each carrying different memories.
The first: Eighth floor overlooking Asim Abdul Hamid Street, Nasr City
By far, the best. At times all seven or six of us were out there at once. Since it was summer we’d sit there at night where the breeze was cooler than being inside. It was also a good WiFi spot. Qur’an was recited. Deep conversations were held on that balcony. Advice was given. Tea was sipped. Binoculars were put to use. Stories were told. Jokes were made. I remember one night in particular I believe it was in the first week of Ramadan, Sammer and I sat out there with flash cards testing each other on our Arabic vocab. We wanted to begin practicing our Arabic before our Fajr Center classes were scheduled to begin. We mastered all of those words that night together. We would stay up out there until the old man with the drum would walk down our street calling out to the sleeping buildings waking them up for tahajjud and suhoor. “O Servants of Allah!” There was a creepy lookout post on top of the building across from ours and it strangely resembled the one at Gitmo. We found that disturbing and would use the binoculars to look at it to see if anyone was looking back at us.
The second: Sixth floor overlooking Medan al-Arab, Maadi
We lived a few floors above Fajr Center’s Maadi branch. I’d get up in the morning and peep out the balcony past the big tree to see if my teacher had walked into the building yet. It was next to the train tracks so I’d see the train come and go. The masjid in the distance would attract a large crowd every jumu’ah. I tried to sit out there and listen to the khutbah when I could, although it was usually too faint to understand. I missed my family the most from this balcony and would distract my thoughts with my MP3 player while staring at the billboard for Close-Up toothpaste. I only remember one night I had company on this balcony, and that was only briefly. Such a contrast compared to the previous one.
The third: First floor overlooking Medan al-Arab, Maadi
The worst. This time we were facing the back of the building. Our view was hardly picturesque. It was the crazy, noisy, always busy intersection known as Medan al-Arab. The phantom ice-cream truck noises we heard turned out to be the signal sounds on motorcycles. Many a zuffa (wedding procession) we heard from there. Beeeeep Beeeeep BeepBeepBeep! The dogs and cats were always fighting and the cars always had somewhere to go. This balcony was enclosed so it offered nothing nice and the only thing that sat out there was my wet clothing.
The fourth: Sixth floor overlooking Masjid Bilal, Nasr City
Beautiful view of the minaret, the masjid, and the garden. The Somali restaurant on the ground floor could usually be heard. The best athan I’ve heard in Cairo is the one from Masjid Bilal, it came through clearly and loudly. I could sit and listen to the Jumu’ah Khutbahs without having to strain my ear one bit and I was able to record Shaykh Rida many times from that balcony. On Eid morning I saw the crowds coming towards the Masjid and video recorded it. Later that day I sat out there and watched cars drive through huge puddles of blood left over from the sacrifices. It was winter when we lived there though and usually too cold to sit out.
The fifth: Second floor overlooking Mohsin Rushdie Street, Nasr City
This is present tense but will soon be past because this is going to be the last balcony I will call my own in Cairo. It accumulates more dust than people and I’ve only seen one wedding from up here. I like seeing the moon reflect off the shiny white tile floor at night and right now the sun is rising on the building tops. When the Bawaab’s children come to visit they peer through the railing and wave hi to their parents from above. This is the only balcony I’ve had in Cairo without any chairs. Perhaps that’s why as beautiful as it is, it remains unwelcoming.
One of my original roommates, one who I enjoyed many nights with on balcony number one, will be returning on Saturday insha’Allah. I will have to make this one feel more homely in time for her arrival in hopes of rekindling those balcony memories from last summer. After all, I’ll be leaving soon and returning to flat Florida, where there are no balconies among other beloved things Cairo has to offer.
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