Very Welcome

Someone is tapping my shoulder.   The Greek woman with massive hair beside me puts her massive hand by my face; she points out the window. I look. I gasp. An aerial view of the three (massive) pyramids. Our plane tilts away from the (massive) desert toward the airport. The buildings below are tightly compacted, unfinished and...brown. In fact, the brown spans for miles without a trace of color. Dust is painted from houses to roads to stores to streets.

My driver is an older man that has a tan mop sewn into the top of his head. I pray that mop head takes me to the correct place. I have no guidebook and Arabic trumps English here.

Mop head says that I am "Very Welcome" to Egypt seconds before he slams on the breaks and my whole body heaves forward. A car sweeps past our front fender unscathed.

Mop head merges onto the highway, which contains no lines nor do any of the drivers attempt to stay in one place. Honking replaces blinkers. Men are hanging out in the middle isle and jogging over to the side when cars approach less than 50 meters away.

There are dirt and sand piles everywhere, even downtown. A man in a leather coat with a huge buckle labeled "FBI" is in front of the taxi when mop head confirms we are at my hostel. FBI gives me furrowed eyebrows as if to imitate me and then adds a slick smile. He's trying to be cute. Uck. He introduces himself as Mido and he arranges tours at the Nubian Hostel.

Mido keeps dropping cheesy pick-up lines and subtle hints. I'm lifeless and I can't imagine what else I can do to discourage him, short of saying, "NOT INTERESTED." He is helpful though-he warns me about street hustles, instructs me to always haggle (except with him of course!) and suggests a restaurant on the corner with cheap Egyptian food.  I feel at ease once I'm in my room and the door is locked.

I search the hostelworld website (where I book my sleeping arrangements) because I forgot the amenities at the Nubian hostel. A review catches my eye:

"Do NOT stay here if you are a woman traveling alone! On my first night, the owner Mohamed came in my room and tried to give me a massage. For the next 2 nights he would come to my room with some excuse to come in. He DID listen to me when I told him no or told him to leave, but it didn't stop him from trying again and again. He told me I was thinking too much and I should just go with it. He also didn't like when other men spoke to me. Men here think Western women are easy targets. Be careful!"


1.) How did I not catch that before and 2.) Didn't mop head and the receptionist call Mido....Mohamed?