Egyptian Hospitality

My first day off after the CELTA course and I was looking forward to a quiet day. Not to be! We were invited to my co-trainer's family home for lunch in the area of Nasr City. Off we went, looking forward to a relaxing afternoon, nice food and knowing that Doaa's parents would be opening their homes to us and offering us Egyptian hospitality. No sooner had we sat down at the table for lunch than we heard the explosion. None of us wanted to voice our thoughts, until Doaa said, 'That sounded like a bomb'. From the 2nd floor balcony there were only a few people around, so we decided that it was just tear gas canisters exploding and carried on with our lunch. Bb took a few pics with his big camera and I told him to put it away. Minutes later, their landline started ringing with family calling to see if they were ok as they'd seen news on the tv of a bomb going off opposite the mosque at the end of their street. It was strange seeing 'our' street on tv. We finished lunch, saw on the tv that there were no injuries and moved over to the sofas for coffee. Crowds had gathered in the street by now, tv crews and photographers had set themselves up down below and we then saw that a car's windows had been shattered with the explosion and there were policemen with sniffer dogs as there was a suspected second bomb. Doaa's mum (who doesn't speak English) had been sitting next to me and I'd been showing her some of our family pics on my ipad. The phone continued to ring with people calling to make sure they were ok. I went to the bathroom and missed the banging on the door, and when I came out thought for a second that the four guys coming standing in the living room were friends calling to check up on them. Very quickly though I felt the tension and changed my mind as one of them asked urgently, 'Where the camera?', as he scanned the room. Then I saw their double barrelled shotguns. Bb had been on the balcony taking pics while I'd been having coffee and someone had clocked him. 'ID', they demanded. Bb handed over his passport. I realized I wasn't carrying any and my British co-trainer, whose home is in Greece, handed over all he had - his Greek ID. The family had to hand over theirs too. One guy, who was pretty rough, took Bb's camera and asked for it to be switched on and went out to the balcony to study the shots he'd been taking. I was really worried by now and wondering if all the pics Bb had taken of posters of the presidential candidates from the day before were still in there. I really thought we'd be arrested, even though I knew we'd done nothing wrong. 'Why you taking photos?' he asked. 'Why?', he asked pointing to all the slanted shots of Sisi posters. I could see the sweat on Bb's brow. 'Delete', the plain clothes secret agent instructed and then grabbed the camera back to check they were all gone. In the meantime, the other guys had been through the house, in the wardrobes, cupboards and under the beds. Finally, the 'bad guy' handed back the camera and as they were walking out the door, one of them turned and said, 'Sorry, and welcome to Egypt'. We were brave enough to ask for our IDs back. We apologized profusely to Doaa's parents as we'd been the cause of the raid and the invasion on their family home, while they were apologizing to us as they were embarrassed by the whole thing and scared we were leaving with bad memories of our visit to their home. I was asking what Bb had been thinking of, using his big camera on the balcony and putting us all at risk. As we started to relax a bit, he joked to my colleague, 'Don't leave me on my own with her for at least three days!'

My blip was taken on the way back in the taxi, after having a cappuccino and wander round a modern shopping centre nearby.