A look out any window of my apartment produces a view of tangled concrete buildings and smog. The buildings here are quite ugly, as most structures built during periods of modernization in the 1950-70’s all over the world have the same drab, square, brown, lifeless look. I’ve seen the same buildings in Marrakech, Guatemala City, San Jose (Costa Rica), Caracas, Miami, Madrid, Baton Rouge, and San Salvador. What makes the buildings more human is the laundry billowing from the clotheslines outside the shuttered windows and the women who hang it. I love to watch these hard workingwomen who have no idea they’re being admired from afar.

Luckily for me and other inhabitants of the largest city in both Africa and the Middle East, Cairo has many trees. In an act of pure genius or just necessity, condensation from the millions of air conditioners is collected in little tubes running down the sides of buildings. The tubes lead either straight to the plants or into buckets that is used to water the plants. I live on the third floor and my only solace is that the tops of the trees block my view of the street and therefore the street’s view of me. I don’t feel as exposed as the people who reside on floors above my own when relaxing on the balcony. Outside my balcony, if your eyes don’t focus too much on the distance and your ears don’t listen to the noise, you can almost feel like you’re on a pleasant street in a quiet city. Headphones help, as well! I’m usually not electronically inclined (and have been labeled electronically retarded), however my newly purchased Ipod has saved me. Otherwise I might have died from the noise of incessantly honking horns, screaming children, cheering soccer fans, screeching brakes, blaring music, the call to prayer, and all the other sounds that create the city’s identity 24 hours a day. But for now, it’s my city and I’ll call it home.

Here are some pictures of/from my apartment.