The Accident

It was only a matter of time before I witnessed a car accident on the streets of Cairo. After all, I think I mention the horrors of Egyptian driving in every other post. However, I never expected to be part of said accident. As I was riding with the rest of the group on a microbus to work at Ana Al-Misri, which is out in the suburbs and an hour long drive, the streets were packed as usual. There were about six lanes of traffic going on a road marked for four (standard), and as we inched along past the pyramids into the desert, I started thinking how claustrophobic driving in Cairo can make you since the other cars are so close. All of the sudden, we felt a lurch, and all seven of us looked at each other; we had obviously been hit from behind and were all unsure of the protocol for crashes in Cairo. Would the cops be called? Would insurance information be exchanged? Does auto insurance even exist in Egypt? We got our answer about half a second later, as yelling erupted from behind the van; apparently this would be solved the Egyptian way – via heated argument. I think a small car tried to squeeze in behind us and in front of a large truck, and the car ended up scrunched between the two larger vehicles. As the truck driver and car owner screamed at each other on the middle of the highway, our bus driver calmly got out, assessed the damage to his van (basically none), then got back in the bus and drove us away, leaving the other two to sort it out.

When we got to Ana Al-Misri, our main contact was late due to a traffic accident (probably the one we were involved in). As usual, our two hours there were semi-organized chaos. What distinguished today was the outpouring of love I received from all of the kids I’ve gotten to know. One of the staff told me that a fifteen-year-old girl named Khulud hadn’t left her room all day until I arrived (at least I think that’s what he said… he doesn’t speak any English), and as I was leaving, one three- or four-year-old boy named Imam, who I just met today, sobbed uncontrollably as I was leaving (my attempts at telling him that I would be back on Monday were fruitless). I spent most of my time there today playing “Miss Mary Mac,” which makes every child from 15-year-old Khulud to the youngest boys amazingly happy. Although before I left, Khulud did mention that the song she really wants to learn is “What Money,” which is not a song I know – unless she means “Got Money?” Seriously what is it with these Egyptians and Lil Wayne?