Any of you who claim to have mastered the computer game "Frogger" should immediately pack your bags and come to Egypt to test out your skills in real life.
This game, in which players try to jump a frog across a highway without getting hit, remarkably resembles the conundrum I have encountered here in Cairo, Egypt this past week. Egyptian drivers literally do not have any conception of staying in lanes and stopping at stop signs, much less slowing down at crosswalks for pedestrians.
When I first arrived in Cairo on Jan. 26, the taxi ride from the airport to the international student residence, called Zamalek, was quite possibly the scariest car trip I have ever experienced.
Just a week into my semester-long stay at the American University in Cairo, where I will be studying political science and Arabic, I have noticed other conspicuous cultural differences between here and the states besides the vehicular madness.
Egyptians are extremely hospitable; my second night here, an Egyptian man walked up to my friends and I out of the blue, explained that he spoke some English, and subsequently gave us an impromptu tour of a section of Cairo. He later showed us a nice dinner place, where we ate and discussed soccer and American politics.
This man was one of the many locals we have met who have not hesitated to recommend places to eat, shop and sightsee, and who have even given us their phone numbers. Can you imagine a Bostonian or a New Yorker walking up to an Egyptian on the street in America, introducing himself, and showing him around a city? Neither can I.
The catch, of course, is where to draw the line between genuine hospitality and deceptive geniality. Whenever Americans walk down streets in Cairo, countless small business owners will introduce themselves, and then convince them to buy something in their stores.
Even when Americans make it clear that they don't want to buy anything, salesmen still insist that they come in and browse. Some may even put their hands on their shoulders to make them stay, which is what happened to me and a couple of friends when we visited a bazaar in Islamic Cairo. We eventually ended up giving him 15 pounds to stop bothering us.
This local entrepreneurship reveals a fundamental feature of Egyptian society, something not unique to their culture alone. Much debate has circulated in the post-9/11 world over whether Arab societies desire free markets similar to the Western-style capitalism evident in America.
In light of the constant barrage of hospitable, yet frequently manipulative, business owners, let it be known that Egyptians are as, if not more, passionate about earning money as Americans are. Capitalism does not thrive in Egypt, but this is not because local Egyptians do not desire it; rather, it is because government-imposed restrictions inhibit additional economic growth in the country.
Besides the driving and hospitality, there are plenty of other cultural differences. For instance, Egyptians don't like to sleep. The area around Zamalek, one of the more upscale residential places in Cairo, is hopping late into the night. This is great for college students who have nothing better to do than drink Stellas (a popular beer here) at 1 a.m., but it is a problem for adults who need a good night's rest and international students who actually need to study at times.
As a foreigner, I've also noticed that random noises occur at random times. Whether it is the incessant beeping of cars, public calls to prayer throughout the day, or the parties of Coptic Christian weddings, there are a multitude of different sounds you will hear daily, each which represents a unique feature of Egyptian culture.
The most pleasing characteristic of Egypt so far is that everything, from food to clothes to taxis, is incredibly cheap. The aforementioned Stellas cost less than $2 on the dollar, and falafel pitas are sold here literally for around 20 cents. Cab rides usually cost less than a dollar, while very fancy meals will tip the scales at approximately $10. These numbers are especially palatable when I hear study abroad students in Europe complain constantly about the expensive prices there.
And of course, there's the language barrier. At UMass, I studied modern standard Arabic for five semesters, a dialect that is used in the Quran, newspapers and official documents in the Arab world. However, Egypt, like many other Arabic-speaking countries, uses a simplified form of MSA.
Many students here, including myself, found this colloquial dialect to be completely foreign to us at first when we talked with the locals. They would laugh at us in a kindhearted manner when we tried to speak MSA to them, sort of like if an Egyptian spoke Shakespearean English to us in America.
For the past few days, I have attempted to speak the dialect to locals, with mixed results. In any event, it's time to put my life on the line. I need to take a taxi back to Zamalek.
Greg Collins is a Collegian columnist. He can be reached at gcollins@student.umass.edu.
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