The handy thing about imagining the worst is nothing is ever as bad as you think. Cairo is nowhere near as crowded as I remember–although I haven’t yet ventured downtown or into the medieval section in the middle of the day. The trees are actually green, rather than brown–which might be due to recent rain that washed them off a little, but I’m not complaining. No one has said or done anything sleazy to me. And when I say ‘No, thanks,’ people actually leave me alone.

This is all a little weird, frankly. And I’m sure I’ll wind up completely reversing these statements within the week, but in the meantime, I’m enjoying being pleasantly surprised.

Last night I had the good luck of seeing the Famous Ali in his natural habitat–if not his native Alexandria, then at least here in Cairo, schmoozing with the waiters, chatting up the shisha-coal kid, etc. Just like home, really, but in Arabic. One more thing to add to my list of pleasant surprises–when we were out at 1am on what’s basically Sunday night, I was not at all the only woman hanging out smoking shisha. I’d like to say times have changed, but it occurs to me that when I lived here, I never went downtown on a Sunday night, so how the hell would I know? l guess l shouldn’t be surprised that it’s much more fun to be a tourist here than a depressed grad student.