Looking Into The Heart of Cairo

I entered the world of Cairo business today in twin towers which could have been transplanted from London or New York. The European Union, the Central Bank, and the Brazilian Embassy are all headquartered there. The shopping mall beneath is straight out of Tokyo or Miami. The elevators are full of besuited and grease-haired business men and swish up to the 33rd floor as if it was an express lift to heaven.

The terrible scene from the weekend of the young mother collapsing and dying on a pavement near Tahrir Square, her lungs and heart lacerated and haemorrhageing by the bird shot the security forces fired into her back seems a million miles away.

I ask my driver what he thought about the political scene. 'Good,' he says. As we approach Tahrir Square, he volunteers, 'Yesterday this was closed but now it's open. There were no incidents.'

We discovered last night that we were three degrees of connection from Shaimaa Al-Sabbagh, the woman who died. She was a friend of a friend of a friend of ours, which somehow brings it closer. As did the barrels of the rifles sticking out the back of the police pick up truck that swung out from a side street in front of me as I walked home through Zamalek. All the security agents had their fingers on their triggers. For one second I looked right down the open end of one barrel from a distance of two feet and prayed in that instant that the rear wheel didn't hit a pothole.

PS
I think this will reward clicking the small arrows symbol to enlarge to look into these small streets of humble abodes.