My Traffic is Comfortable

"Gazmati morieha." My shoes are comfortable.

Well, that's what I meant to say. What I actually said was, "Zahmati morieha." My traffic is comfortable. 

I said this to the small gesticulating man who told me to relax and take off my shoes as we sat on the ground waiting for our flight to take off from JFK. Almost 24 hours later, in my new home in Cairo, I've now finally experienced this ubiquitous "zahma"-- one of my first Egyptian vocab words--first hand.

Traffic sets the soundtrack for this city of 18 million people. Because of the traffic, Cairo is arguably one of the noisiest cities in the world. In an article in the New York Times in April 2008, the author cites a study conducted by the National Research Center that concluded that the average noise in Cairo from 7 a.m. to 10 p.m. is 85 decibels, a bit louder than a freight train only 15 feet away. Today my friend and I were in that decibel range. We drove around the city and heard the cries of a funeral procession in the poorer quarters of the City of the Dead, the clanging bells of donkey carts teetering along the Nile, and the angry honking and heckling of bystanders when we, accidentally, drove backwards down a one-way street. For an aspiring radio journalist like me, it's a great place to be.

Now I am spending my first night here in one of Cairo's quieter neighborhoods, Ma'adi. Full of low-hanging Eucalyptus trees and middle class homes, I am looking forward to returning here soon for a "low key" yoga class with my friend's Mom.

From my present perch, I'd say the traffic is still comfortable--even welcome. But after a day of traveling, my shoes are a different story.