Midan al Tahrir-Tahrir Square

Midan al Tahrir-Formally known to most as Tahrir Square. I’ve been wanting to write about it for some time now. The multiple times I’ve been there, the energy is hard to explain. It’s a mixed feeling of excitement, uncertainty, sadness, chaos, and tension. I could feel the tension everywhere, streets dirty and filled with trash, Egyptian flags colors red, black, and white. Downtown Cairo feels very different itself than every other part of Cairo. There are sections of side streets, little clusters and pockets that provide services to specific needs like automotive repair, light fixtures, metal workers, tailors, etc. It is probably what the US looked like before we had Target, Wal-Mart, and Home Depot. Many of the shops are filled with used items, out of the box, sitting randomly in a store window filled with dust and dirt. It’s hard to believe that they can actually sale anything in them. When it rains in Cairo, the streets flood and no one knows what to do. Business usually stops, people trying to figure out where to walk as the water has no place to drain. In the very center of Tahrir, vendors have set up their carts full of hot sweet potatoes, nuts, and roasted corn for those hanging out or passing by. People sit on the streets, selling their mementos of the Revolution, old photos of the military men. Graffiti has made its way all over the walls, mostly words like “SCAF must go,” “F*ck SCAF,” and there are paintings of the deceased on many buildings. You can see the huge visa immigration office building in the background that was on fire during the Revolution, a common photo seen in many photos in the news.

There is a well-known open air group of ahawas, or cafes, called “Borsa” Café, downtown, where most people go to hang out, smoke sweet smelling sheesha (hookah), and drink teas and coffee. You can never get away from the poor people selling their peanuts or tissues as they walk through the crowd begging for money, forcing their food on you on your table until you have to forcefully say you are uninterested. I guess the hardest part for me is seeing the little children, I’ve seen as little as 3 yrs old, wrapped in a little hijab, faces dirty, walking around for money, as their mothers stand in the distance waiting for them to return. Emad and I have this little trick where we tell them first, “God will take care of you.” Many of them walk away but some have on their straight business face, acting like strong men, so grown up, and once we start asking them “Esmak ey?” “What is your name?” And continue to speak to them, the barrier and the façade starts to fade away slowly and they become children again. Many I find have lost their childhood in this way as their parents are jobless, sometimes homeless, and they must go out to work for the family. And the money they collect does not even go to them to keep. Most recently, we were in the café and noticed a man with two young children by his side, a little boy maybe 5yrs old, and a little girl maybe 7 or 8. He was carrying a coke bottle full of gas and a rod and cushion to show the crowds his tricks of eating fire. I could not believe what I was witnessing, these children, standing by his side as he proceeded to yell into the crowd, his children mimicking his act that he taught them and proceeding to pour this gas in his mouth and spitting it out in a roaring fire as his children were off in their own worlds. People around hardly say anything and after his performance, his children walk around to pick up money, hardly anyone gives. I was in shock the first time seeing this at the abuse I felt this man was putting his children through. This country does not have the kinds of child laws we have in the United States that are enforced. Even if they do have the very good law, the laws aren’t always enforced because of the economic situation for most, the poverty level quite high. They are forced into this work, many living on 1-200 L.E (Egyptian pounds) a month. This is equivalent to $33.00 per month. Even if they were to live on “foul” beans and Egyptian bread everyday for a month, which is quite cheap, would not suffice. It is more than just a problem here. I couldn’t believe no one was saying or doing anything. One night though, when we were in the café, we saw a group of younger guys and women go up to a little one and asked her to sit down to tell them her story of why she was forced to do this. I was talking away with a friend while Emad watched the scene. They continued to hear her story and then had her call her father and have him come to the café to join them. They collected their change and amongst them, gave it to the little girl. The happened to be an NGO in Egypt that helps other people get jobs. So they proceeded to tell the father that they would try to find him work if he would be willing so he could stop forcing his child to work in this way. Emad got up from his seat and walked over to the leader of the group letting him know that he works for a youth educational/consultancy institute that could help in some way in providing assistance. I was completely blown away by the amazing way this all unfolded right before our eyes, just as I was feeling disenchanted. I have started to become more inspired to be working within the developing aspect of countries…more along the lines of education. I had never known the issues before nor how underdeveloped it is, underfunded if at all, and the infrastructure sometimes not even built, enforced, nothing. It makes me inspired to see that there is work to do, for people to become more involved in making this country and others a better place to live in.