I Lost.

After telling myself that I was not going to be starting a blog once I arrived, increased pressure from Amy led me to act otherwise. So here it is: some blog by an American who knows very little Arabic in the largest city in Africa and the Middle East.
My Egyptair flight to Cairo was eerily similar to the city itself: old, hot, unpredictable, and slightly uncomfortable. After a rough takeoff, a sleepless 11-hour flight, and an absolutely frightening landing through smog that puts Los Angeles to shame, I arrived at the Cairo airport. After meeting up with fellow study abroad students (finding a group of Americans was never so easy) we took a shuttle to our dorm. My first impression of the city was how tan it was, from the buildings to the people, mosques to the churches, the furniture to the thick layer of dirt on the streets. My room is, in a word, ginormous. Its a three-bedroom, 5th story room with a large balcony (which has elicited admiration and pure jealousy from those less fortunate, and has become the official smoking locale for those on my floor; and someone just walked in right as I typed that).
We were walking around after orientation in Tahrir square the other day (where the Egyptian museum is) looking for an ATM. This would mark my first experience with the wile of the Cairene merchants. He introduced himself as soon as we walked by him and asked what we were looking for. He lost half his teeth and wore an outfit with a thick layer of dirt. "I know where you can find one," he said, and he led us down twisting alleys. After making awkward small talk (where he was from, what he does, so on and so forth) he led us back to where we met him. "Come into my shop," he said. We were screwed. "No," we said, "we need to be going back." He insisted and offered us tea and coffee, after which we relented. We were led in through a large wooden door into a small, musty perfume shop, with a tobacco laden ash tray and crooked wooden shelves, on top of which sat small vials of perfume. Of course, the conversation steered towards his business. He wanted four, white, college students to buy perfume. We refused, and tried to change the subject while we waited for our drinks.
"So where are you from?"
"Cairo"
"Business is good?"
"So-so"

*Silence*

"Why you no buy perfume?"

We said our goodbyes promptly and left, giving him money for the coffee and tea that had not come yet. He said farewell, nonchalantly.

Another note is on the traffic. There are no words to do it justice, so Ill just leave you with a video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I-t6FZujJxM

Were about to go out to some bar somewhere. I'll update more soon.