You're Not In Canada Anymore!

After twenty hours of travelling, my plane is touching down in Egypt.

"Please stay in your seats until the plane comes to a complete stop"
the flight attendant calls out over the PA and repeats the request in
Arabic.

Tourists on the plane glance at each other and tug their seat belts to
reassure each other that she's not talking about us. The Locals ignore
the entreaties floating over the PA system and keep pulling out
carry-on bags and passing them back and forth across the aisles.
Travelling companions call out, identifying their suitcases, duty-free
bags, and coats, and wait for the standees to distribute the overhead
compartments holdings.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! Please remain in your seats until the plane
comes to a complete stop and the Captain has turned off the seat belt
sign." The attendant repeats this, but seems resigned to the fact that
very few passengers are going to comply with this request.

The plane stops and the rest of us passengers stand and join the
chaos. Tentative smiles, yawns, and anxious glances pass amongst the
new standees. None of us know what to expect outside the plane.

I get closer to the door. The heat surprises me. It's 11.30 at night
and it is warmer than a summer's day in Vancouver. Sweating at
midnight...

This is one of the stop on the tarmac and take a bus to the terminal
landings. Like a polite Canadian I line up and make my way towards the
door. By the time I reach sight of the night sky, I have been
separated from my family. Hesitancy comes with a cost here.

"توقف" (twqf) a gun toting man in a white uniform shouts at me as I am
about to head down the stairs.

A hand reaches out from behind me and tugs on my t-shirt. "He wants us
to stop and wait here" A posh british accent attached to the hand
tells me. I turn to thank the woman translating for me. She sat near
me on the flight from London to Cairo. She was wearing upscale jeans
and t-shirt, but is now covered from head to toe in a black headscarf
and dress.

"I'm here to visit family." She says. "I wear this to please my
grandmother. It is easier than arguing with her." She smiles.

I helped butcher chickens to please my grandmother. I understand
compromising to keep the peace.

"You're going to need to be a little pushier if you're going to
survive in Cairo." She laughs.