In the club lookin' so conspicuous
I know I've said it a million times, and most of my posts focus solely on this theme: Egypt is a random and endearing place.
Things happen here that would never happen in the United States. Even if they only happen because I am foreign, there is a lot to be said for a culture that is so willing to share their most meaningful moments with strangers. Especially when most Western strangers rarely try to learn anything about customs or tradition before they begin their tourist safari.
Last night I went on a typical evening event for me, yet another "lame adventure." We try our best to get lost, then unlost, then have tea and shisha in a back alley.
The adventure started around 10 p.m. and in our typical lazy fashion, we took a left randomly off the main road and walked. Eventually we passed what looked like a cozy restaurant or bar. I knew it was something else; no restaurant would play such loud Egyptian music on such a shitty speaker system. They would lose all their tips after the customer's eardrums burst. And let's be honest, there are about five bars in the city. I would know if one was this close to home.
We started peering in the windows from the sidewalk, and my friend accidentally catches the eye of a 14-year-old Egyptian kid. The kid comes out of what is shaping up to look like a dance hall, grabs my friends hand and pulls him inside. I follow them without being invited. I'd rather be somewhere I wasn't invited with a hulky looking white guy than standing alone on the sidewalk late at night in a place I don’t know.
Weddings are very extravagant events in Egypt. I've been told by an Egyptian friend that many people remain unmarried simply because they can’t afford the wedding ceremony part of the process. Some poorer people get around the lack of money by having street weddings, others become legally married with a document, but it isn't recognized by society until there is a ceremony. This leads many couples to marry in secret and continue living in separate houses, never telling their parents that they are married.
It took us a while to figure out what exactly is going on- it was a wedding celebration. There were only around 30 people in the room, mostly dressed in street clothes. The kid that brought us in sat us down in the corner next to the speakers making our sad attempts at broken Arabic conversation even more impossible.
There was a circle of men dancing in the middle of the room, and women in the back part of the dance floor simply watching. The young Egyptian friend pulled my companion onto the dance floor and gestured for him to watch and repeat an intricate dance focusing on a lot of wrist flopping, hip jutting and leg spazzing.
My friend's reaction- the most embarrassing display of white middle-class man dancing I've ever seen in my life.
You know that guy at the club, feet glued to the floor, a little movement of the shoulders and a facial expression of complete defeat. That was him, in the middle of a bunch of rocking Arabs. Awesome!
Our young host eventually ran back to the chairs to retrieve me. He pulls me onto the dance floor and gestures for everyone to circle up. I knew what he wanted. It's what all men want when they get a chance to see Megan Detrie on the dance floor. I was being challenged to a dance off!
I was all set to go, and all of a sudden the music switched. No longer was I listening to what I affectionately call "Habibbie Rock," no, suddenly it was something far more familiar and terrifying.
Usher featuring Little John and LudaKris.
Those of you that know me know I have a secret love for dance club music. Those of you who've seen me at a dance party know I dance best when I'm shaking it like an overweight Mexican is shoving a five dollar bill down my top.
(Last weekend I playfully hit a male companion in the side while we were walking down the street in a ritzy part of town. The action worked up a group of five or six Egyptian men into such a frenzy they immediately broke into cheers and "Hello! Whoo!, Whoo!" Which almost made me fall down laughing.)
I knew my club-ho dancing was out of the question, and I was at a loss of how to move. Luckily I was pushed aside within seconds to clear room for my dance-off opponent, a teenager who could breakdance like he was grandmaster flash.
The boy laid out some head-spins, a couple flares, a "Thomas" or two. His skills were mad fresh.
Dance competition over, music returned to the Arabic variety and eventually we snuck out.
All in all you're typical night.
Things happen here that would never happen in the United States. Even if they only happen because I am foreign, there is a lot to be said for a culture that is so willing to share their most meaningful moments with strangers. Especially when most Western strangers rarely try to learn anything about customs or tradition before they begin their tourist safari.
Last night I went on a typical evening event for me, yet another "lame adventure." We try our best to get lost, then unlost, then have tea and shisha in a back alley.
The adventure started around 10 p.m. and in our typical lazy fashion, we took a left randomly off the main road and walked. Eventually we passed what looked like a cozy restaurant or bar. I knew it was something else; no restaurant would play such loud Egyptian music on such a shitty speaker system. They would lose all their tips after the customer's eardrums burst. And let's be honest, there are about five bars in the city. I would know if one was this close to home.
We started peering in the windows from the sidewalk, and my friend accidentally catches the eye of a 14-year-old Egyptian kid. The kid comes out of what is shaping up to look like a dance hall, grabs my friends hand and pulls him inside. I follow them without being invited. I'd rather be somewhere I wasn't invited with a hulky looking white guy than standing alone on the sidewalk late at night in a place I don’t know.
Weddings are very extravagant events in Egypt. I've been told by an Egyptian friend that many people remain unmarried simply because they can’t afford the wedding ceremony part of the process. Some poorer people get around the lack of money by having street weddings, others become legally married with a document, but it isn't recognized by society until there is a ceremony. This leads many couples to marry in secret and continue living in separate houses, never telling their parents that they are married.
It took us a while to figure out what exactly is going on- it was a wedding celebration. There were only around 30 people in the room, mostly dressed in street clothes. The kid that brought us in sat us down in the corner next to the speakers making our sad attempts at broken Arabic conversation even more impossible.
There was a circle of men dancing in the middle of the room, and women in the back part of the dance floor simply watching. The young Egyptian friend pulled my companion onto the dance floor and gestured for him to watch and repeat an intricate dance focusing on a lot of wrist flopping, hip jutting and leg spazzing.
My friend's reaction- the most embarrassing display of white middle-class man dancing I've ever seen in my life.
You know that guy at the club, feet glued to the floor, a little movement of the shoulders and a facial expression of complete defeat. That was him, in the middle of a bunch of rocking Arabs. Awesome!
Our young host eventually ran back to the chairs to retrieve me. He pulls me onto the dance floor and gestures for everyone to circle up. I knew what he wanted. It's what all men want when they get a chance to see Megan Detrie on the dance floor. I was being challenged to a dance off!
I was all set to go, and all of a sudden the music switched. No longer was I listening to what I affectionately call "Habibbie Rock," no, suddenly it was something far more familiar and terrifying.
Usher featuring Little John and LudaKris.
Those of you that know me know I have a secret love for dance club music. Those of you who've seen me at a dance party know I dance best when I'm shaking it like an overweight Mexican is shoving a five dollar bill down my top.
(Last weekend I playfully hit a male companion in the side while we were walking down the street in a ritzy part of town. The action worked up a group of five or six Egyptian men into such a frenzy they immediately broke into cheers and "Hello! Whoo!, Whoo!" Which almost made me fall down laughing.)
I knew my club-ho dancing was out of the question, and I was at a loss of how to move. Luckily I was pushed aside within seconds to clear room for my dance-off opponent, a teenager who could breakdance like he was grandmaster flash.
The boy laid out some head-spins, a couple flares, a "Thomas" or two. His skills were mad fresh.
Dance competition over, music returned to the Arabic variety and eventually we snuck out.
All in all you're typical night.
1 Comments:
Hahaha...do you do walk-offs as well?
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