One of the simplest pleasures for someone who lives in Cairo is being able to walk around town undisturbed by honking cars, swerving delivery boys or leering groups of men. That’s why every time I find myself strolling through the streets of Zamalek; I take advantage of the handful of routes which boast proper sidewalks. The kind with minimal obstructions and somewhat level surfaces where I don’t feel like getting to the end of the street is comparable to finishing an obstacle course from some 90s game show.
Last week a friend and I were running errands in Zamalek and I suggested we just park the car and accomplish everything by foot. So, there I was walking on my favorite sidewalk in Cairo, explaining to my friend how much I love that particular sidewalk and how sometimes I imagine I’m in a more civilized city in Europe as I glide over the bricked pathway gazing at the diners in the Italian eatery and admiring the hand-carved furniture in the shop windows. Then, it was as if I was being punished for my traitorous thoughts, because just as I blinked my eyes in a moment of imagination of far away places… WOOOAAAAAH! I tripped on an uneven brick and fell face first over the curb and into a driveway ramp, landing on my right elbow.
The most intense pain I have ever experienced went shooting through my arm as my friend tried to scrape me off the pavement while trying to contain her uncontrollable laughter. After we concluded that my arm was not ok (given the backwards right angle it was stuck in), my friend and I scrambled back to the car and headed to the hospital. While she drove as steadily as possible (again the streets of Cairo are just as unpredictable as the sidewalks) and I whimpered over every bump trying to keep my arm still, she asked me, “Do you have insurance? Should we go to a specific hospital?” I replied that I probably wouldn’t ever want to see the inside of a hospital that is covered on my insurance so we’d better go the nicest private one in the area. She then asked, “Do you have a credit card with you?” Thankfully, some minor relief came as I explained how I do not leave the house without my Visa card.
My friend was asking because, as anyone who’s ever had to make a trip to an Egyptian hospital knows, you have to pay – in full – at the registration desk before you leave and then settle your compensation with whatever insurance company you use later. So, we walked in and she fished out my Visa card to deal with the receptionist while I hobbled over to the nearest chair in the waiting room.
After some time in the waiting room, an exam and an X-ray by the doctor, my arm was twisted back around and ready to be set in a cast I’d be wearing for the next two months! The lesson to be taken away from my very unfortunate incident on the streets of Cairo is this … Be careful what you say, the universe is always watching and may just make you pay for it.
No, just kidding – the lesson is, always carry your Visa card because you never know where the day may lead and what type of situations you might get stuck in!