Letter to Egypt [Vol. 2]

[So this is not actually Volume 2, as I have not written a letter to Egypt yet. But you get the idea.]

Dear Egypt,

Please clean up your act. There are thirty million inhabitants in Cairo but you will not pay anybody to sweep the sidewalks or collect household trash, leaving your citizens no choice but to toss their trash in the seemingly endless irrigation ditches stemming from the Nile--the same channels in which people catch fish to feed their families. Your children bathe in this same water, full of garbage and human waste.

Have you noticed that of the many tourists who come here to visit, very few return for a second trip? This is because you hassle them, hustle them, rip them off, harangue them, and then lie that it ever happened like that. If I had been here on a two week vacation, I would have left after one week. You beg for things you don't necessarily need.

Have you no pride (or shame) in the food you grow, sell, or serve? Vegetables and fruit are served in a condition just short of rotten. A five dollar lemonade, listed as "fresh" on your menus, is nothing but powdered Country Time. Nescafe is your coffee beverage of choice. My friend ordered a milkshake the other day at lunch, and we will never understand how you could have possibly intended to serve it hot.

Where are you hiding the women? They don't wait or bus tables in your restaurants, or work in your hotels, or drive your buses and taxis. They aren't smoking shisha in your cafes or working in your shops. They don't pilot your river boats or sell wares on the street. What are they doing and where are they doing it?

What's with all the yelling? Can you not learn to communicate in softer tones? Every interaction need not be an argument or a chance to display your bravado.

Your infinite archaeological and historical attractions in and around Cairo, Luxor, and elsewhere are spectacular and well worth a trip here--something to be proud of indeed. Yet graft and mismanagement of these sites leaves visitors with more than just the taste of sand in their mouths.

I do not want a camel ride. I do not want a book of postcards. Thank you, I like my shirt too. I like Obama too, thank you. Really, thanks a lot. No, I do not want to buy a hat, sunglasses, or a scarf. No, I just told you I do not want a camel ride. No, not a donkey ride either. Or a horse, thank you. I refuse to be mocked for not riding your camel.

Keep honking your car horns, but please realize that nobody's listening. Sure, we all hear it, but the other drivers simply are not paying attention. May I suggest an alternative? Traffic lanes. (You know me, always thinking outside the box.) I have another suggestion: turn on your headlights after dark. Not only will it help you see the road, but it will help others see you as well.

I will be leaving Egypt in a few weeks. I hope you and I can learn to see eye to eye before then. If not, after I have gone, please keep me posted as to how things improve.

Best,

Kit