"My seat is taken
and I can't find another one; you have to find a solution" said the young
guy nervously with an upper Egyptian sa3eedy accent
"Do you have a
ticket? Show me your ticket now" asked the train inspector in a low toned
condescending intimidating voice
The young fellow dipped
his hand into his pocket hesitantly, grabbed a small piece of wrinkled paper
and handed it over to the inspector who read it, stamped it and returned it
back. He looked a bit disappointed that the guy had one, now he'll have to
answer to the guys request for a seat
"Where shall I
sit?" asked the young fellow
"You are from
Menya, right?" inquired the inspector in a desperate attempt to distract
the young man "Do you know captain Mohamed Naguie?" he continued.
"No" The guy answered showing signs of intimidation that caused the
inspector to grin
"Will u get him a
seat if he said he did?" I asked mockingly
That's when the
inspector gave me a mind your own business look; he continued asking the guy
about the police officer and went as far as questioning if he's really from
Menya if he doesn't know him. That's when I commented sarcastically "Menya
has more than five people you know"
A laugh escaped the
waiter at the train’s cafeteria seeing the train inspector getting mocked in
what can only be attributed to previous unresolved issues between the two
"Sit on the
floor" said the inspector in a firm voice as he hastily left the
packed train cafeteria to another rail-car.
I was standing in an
incredibly packed train cafeteria heading from Cairo to Alexandria. The train
was delayed for about three hours as a result of a demonstration in Asuit
that paralyzed the rail traffic for half a day, an event that was enough
to disrupt the railway trips nationwide. As if this wasn't
enough, passengers from other trips to Alexandria had to board the same
train which resulted in an overbooked sardine pack on wheels. One of the other
trips has just arrived to Cairo from Aswan and was supposed to continue to
Alexandria when the passengers aboard were forced to vacate their seats and
move to the same train I was on, they were not guaranteed even a space to
stand. It was a cursing frenzy where people started by cursing the regime, the
revolution, the rail management then shifted their attention to the greatness
we could achieve if only we stick to our religious beliefs and practices. They
quickly - as is the case for any Egyptian - drifted each to his own business as
they started sipping tea and listen to the soothing tunes of Kalthoum's
"abl matshoofak 3enaya"
As I stood in the
cafeteria I started reminiscing about the whole evening. Earlier that
night I watched tiny tear droplets forming in the eyes of a clueless pretty
girl as her shaky voice betrayed her while trying to comfort someone on the
other end of a phone call. I was there to observe what seemed to be a seventy
years old Nubian lady with a couple of kids searching desperately for a seat to
complete her twenty seven hours trip to Alexandria, and I noticed as an
exhausted young fellow turned his head in the other direction to avoid the
guilt of not leaving his seat as her eyes was begging for one but her pride
held her from asking. The same guy who earlier that night screamed at a station
official over the three hours delayed train while that pretty girl tried in vain
to run in her high heels. I was there to feel the shame in a discussion between
two army men in a day that witnessed the release of kidnapped soldiers
following a scandalous deal with some terrorists. I was there to
grasp the peaceful sleep of an infant as her mother leaned against the wall for
support while holding her. I was there to see an engineering student trying to
grasp little pieces of information for his early morning exam as his dreams of
a good grade started to evaporate.
My train of thoughts was
interrupted by a heated debate that sprung when a twenty something years old
guy started to defend the revolution against the acquisitions of a senior
citizen before they both started blaming the current regime and the brotherhood
for whatever crappy life we are leading nowadays, that's when the train
inspector made a second appearance that put an end to the debate.
He caught two homeless kids that boarded the train in Tanta with no
money to pay for their tickets, he pushed them in a corner and gave each of
them a couple of slaps across the face when I involuntarily screamed at him
"berra7a ya 3am enta, malak?”. He gave me that mind your own freaking
business look again as he threatened them a delivery to the police authorities
upon the arrival in Alexandria. Not knowing he was bluffing, the two kids sat
silently in fear the rest of the trip.
The trip came to an end
as the train stopped in Sidi Gaber-Alexandria. I stood there
watching people reuniting with their longing loved ones who eagerly awaited
their arrival. I stood there as they went their separate ways without a single glance back!
I stood there alone with
an aching sweaty body that carried me through twenty one straight hours, a numb
mind, a pair of sleepy eyes and a hollow heart that's no good for my
soul. I stood there revelling in the beauty of the collective human
consciousness while being humbled by my inability to alleviate the agony
of those around me. It was just a delayed train, it was no surviving the
Titanic, but for me it was yet another opportunity to see people for who
they really are, their vulnerable selves unshielded with pride or
whatever they use as a defence mechanism. It was a rare opportunity to form a
connection with the inner selves of deep flawed humans glorified through their
agony. I returned in deep gratitude for the chance to peek into a human soul
and experience in three hours what would have taken me years to know as I
discovered that I really like...a train
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