Yousri

In chapter six, Cairo Nights, I learned the depressing story of Tony Horwitz friend, Yousri. Yousri’s story of growing up in Cairo as a Nubian is tragic to say the least. But, the most amazing part of this story is his pride. Horwitz says he is the proudest man he ever met, which is a bit ironic in the sense that in Yousri’s own eyes and his peers he did not have that much to be proud of. He was thirty years old living with his parents, or up until his parents passed away. In the United States, this is not only a rarity but an embarrassment. Yousri was also unmarried. He could not marry a middle class woman because he was the son of a Nubian booah, nor could he marry a woman of his own class until he had his own apartment with furnishings. This is surprising to me because in the United States although class distinctions are evident, it is not to the extent like in Cairo where a man could not marry a woman out of his own class. The only way for Yousri to be able to afford the house and furnishings would be to work in the Gulf like his brothers, but even then he would not be able to spend much time with his family. His brothers worked in the Gulf, and only spend one month out of the year with their families. I felt almost guilty when I read this knowing that I am able to see my parents virtually whenever I like. The fact that Yousri would have to chose to either live alone as a bachelor, or live alone as a married man is sad because neither of these are very appealing. It was touching to read how concerned Horwitz was for his friend, and of both he and his wife’s efforts to help him. They set him up with many women, and attempted many different ways to obtain a visa for him. But, nothing worked. The saddest thing was after Yousri paid for an illegal visa and was clearly scammed, he still believed it was going to arrive any day. Horwitz brings up an interesting point in this chapter, the only difference between himself and Yousri was the “lot’s they’d drawn at birth.” Although this statement is sad, it is true. In this book, Baghdad without a Map, it is the stories and lives like Yousri’s that truly make me thankful. I realize that the only difference between me and a woman in the Middle East is that we are from different places. Yet, this one difference offers me so many things she is denied. It is a depressing but true statement that actually makes me realize how lucky I am.


-MLD