Cairo with view of Al Azhar Mosque
Cairo, Egypt 1988
A heavy haze hung over the city when I shot this, but with Photoshop, I could make Cairo look as it should. On the tops of many buildings are shacks where the poor live. Once while I was gazing up, the whole side of a room opened up and a small boy peered out. The room was makeshift. A panel of plywood or maybe even cardboard constituted the wall. When the boy wanted to see what was happening on the street, he merely pushed the wall out as if it were an awning.
Artisans
When we had some free time, my husband and I explored the back streets of Cairo. We didn’t have to worry about being accosted in those days. Although I did get a scolding for photographing some fresh bread set out on the street to cool. A man wanted to know just why I was photographing their bread. He thought I was going to make fun of it.
Back to these men. They were quite charming, happy to let me photograph as they hammered out the design on the metal. They worked alongside some housewives who were taking a break. The women had a full-grown male turkey that they treated as a pet.
A Woman with Grit
A common sight was a curbside tea stand like this one hidden on what looked to be a deserted street. But the woman knew what she was doing, soon workmen from a nearby construction site were buying cups of tea.
She has her kettle boiling away on that square can which is filled with burning charcoal. She can pack up her entire teashop in that cabinet. Maybe she left it all out overnight or maybe someone helped her haul it to a safe place.
Tea Time on a Street in Cairo
Two workmen relax with tea and cigarettes. They wear the galabeya, the long full-sleeved gown with the skirt that swings as they walk. When they are working, they tuck the skirt up. The galabeyas, made of good Egyptian cotton, will last forever. I bought one and I know.
These photos are from my old slides or positives. Scanning them degrades the image, but for me the story is key. Often when I look at my old photos, I wonder what I was thinking. I made so many mistakes but didn’t see them. Now I do. But I take comfort in the Malcolm Gladwell theory about needing 10,000 hours of practice to be good at something. Those mistakes are part of my 10,000 hours.