Cairo, Egypt: a tale of love and Egyptian journalist Louis Greiss

Louis Greiss.  I had been charmed by him from the beginning.  It wasn't just because of his influence (which was considerable) or his journalistic prowess (which was yet more considerable) .  And it wasn't even his ability to so smoothly navigate Egyptian waters as part of the Christian minority (although, I admired that, too). 

But it was his character, his generosity, his kindness.  And perhaps most, his sense of balance and fairness. 

He had been married to one of Egypt's greatest film stars, Sanaa Gamil.  A love story that had lasted 41 years.  He told me that the secret to marrying a successful woman was to realize that you had married not just the woman but the talent, too.  That you had to fight against a desire to reduce her, to be jealous, to be demanding.   But rather to revel in her gift.  Because, after all,  you loved her for that, also.

 
Oh that Sanaa Gamil....She knew a good thing when she saw it........

Muqattam, Cairo: a tale of religion, or something like that

I was talking to him, a Muslim, about the 1940s and 50s in Cairo.  He told me that in those days he had a neighbor who was a Christian and another not too far away who was a Jew.  He said that they mingled with his family in the kitchen, picked him up at school when his  parents couldn't get there, vouched for him when he got into trouble. 

But then he shook his head and said that Nasser had done away with all of that.  That the Jews had mostly left after the war.  That those who stayed didn't know each other in the same way.  That everyone now stayed in their own camps.  Suspicious. 

I went with friends to Muqattam, an area in Cairo where Christians lived.  It was filled with garbage.  But they took the garbage and recycled it, making it into something beautiful.  Carpets, bags, stationary. 

 

 
 
 

 
  

 
I wish we could recycle our own tired old ideas about each other.  Muslim, Christian, Jew.  Recycle them.  And make them into something beautiful, too.

Muqattam, Cairo, Egypt: and a tale of the Christian tattoo artist

I was in Egypt, I was in Cairo, I was in Muqattam when I met him.  The tattoo artist. 

He wasn't like other tattoo artists.  Oh no.  You see, he didn't do dragons, or hearts, or fairies.  There were no Chinese symbols or fluttering butterflies, or barbed wire in his repertoire. 

His name was Gerges.  And he was on a Mission. For God.

Lined up in his stall were tidy rows of crosses of all sizes, stamps of the Coptic pope, of Saint George.  Oh you get the idea.

He had an unremitting commitment to his faith, which he expressed in.... well, the most indelible of ways.

The pigments brilliant........

Amir was 22.  He came into Gerges' booth located in front of the church.  I want a tattoo please.  A big tattoo, he said.  I want it right here, he said, tapping on his chest. 

Yes, of course, Gerges answered. And so he started.

 How much for a tattoo, Gerges? I asked.  10 Egyptian pounds, he said.  (About $2. ) For a small one?  I asked.  Small or big, it doesn't matter, he answered .  And if you don't have money, I'll do it for free, he added.

He looked at me then.  Straight in the eyes.  Maryam, would you like one, a tattoo? he said.

Maybe next time, I answered. Thanks Gerges.

Cairo, Egypt: and a tale of a return to the source

They looked at me, as I was explaining about myself.  About my mother of Iranian origins, about my father of French origins, about being American but living in Morocco.  And it was then that I told them that I was born in Cairo.  And they smiled. 

And they said that everyone knows that the Nile is the source.  And one always returns to the source. 

This week I'm on assignment back at the source.

Image by Denya7