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Her name is Nagat

Travels in Egypt

Annette
2005-08-29 18:53:02

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chat with her. This scene repeats itself over and over again. I get the sense that she invites goodwill from the people she meets and on this sentiment; we literally "roll" through Cairo on a positive wave. The manner with which men react to her has another aspect very much to my own advantage: Not a soul pays attention to me. I have become invisible. This allows me to be an unobtrusive observer - rather novel in a country where tourism is the bread and butter of many. I am spared the offers of souvenirs; the hawkers of merchandise find her story a lot more interesting than another tourist haggling over price.

Nagat is proud and self-sufficient. One day, as I find her waiting outside a museum, she is just taking a spare tire out of the trunk of the taxi. One of the bald tires had finally gone flat, and she was going to change it herself. Several curious spectators gather around her and she receives offers of help - but no, she wants no part of that. In her efficient, deliberate manner, she changes the tire, and having done so, rinses her hands with bottled water, gets in the taxi and asks "Where to now?"

Regardless of destination, I know I have to mentally brace for the mad traffic everywhere. Theoretically, there are a number of lanes on streets, with traffic moving in a particular direction. That theory gives way to practicality rather quickly: two lanes turn into four as needed, with the odd car swerving in and out of tight spaces around the other moving vehicles. One way street and I decide to see something a little way back? No need to worry, Nagat will go into reverse and back down the street against traffic. She is not the only one doing this; and besides, it is much faster than going around the block one more time. Strangely enough, this kamikaze driving doesn't seem to result in accidents - I never even saw a fender-bender, let alone the head-on crashes one would expect.
Fridays are special for Nagat. She wears a red Jellaba and new shoes, and her flowery scarf is more cheery that the one she wears the rest of the week. It is Sabbath and she takes a few hours off to go to pray and to get together with her family. In the afternoon, she takes me to her neighborhood mosque and shows me the relic it is famous for. I'm stared at quite a bit here, looking foreign and non-Moslem.

I can't help but think that Nagat has a more far-reaching impact upon the people she encounters in her world than meets the eye. Even though her work is dictated by economic necessity, she is a symbol of change. She arouses curiosity, invites surprised comments, beckons acceptance. Her travels around town allow her to touch many dozens of people each day. And I wonder: how many of the men she talks with repeat her story and because of it, think about the future of their own wives and daughters?

Should you find yourself at Cairo's airport, look for Nagat outside the international arrival hall. If you are lucky, you will have a chance to see Cairo through the eyes of a woman taxi driver. (February 1996)

Photos, Text & Painting "Guardian" by Annette Solyst

copyright Annette Solyst