Free Egypt
It was my first full day in Cairo, but I still didn't feel quite present. On a long walk through this sprawling city of 12 million, I could hear the resonant beat of change coming from Tahrir Square. As I got closer to the source, all movement began to slow and I noticed this painted English message to me and the rest of the western world. I took several pictures here but it was not until the last one that these women and children walked through my frame. I'll never forget this woman's guarded stare.
Freedom of Speech
Four weeks into the revolution and I was no longer watching on CNN. I was working with an Egyptian media agency at the epicenter of it all and conducting dozens of interviews about the prospects of new government elections. Though people were generally accepting and inviting my camera, there were many intimidating men turning me back. They were highly suspicious of any outside influence or biased scrutiny. I set out with Badr, one of the young guys in our crew, and explored the chaotic demonstrations across this vast square. He had my back, as I did my best to capture the energy of that day.
Painted Face
At times, the intense energy of Tahrir Square felt more like a carnival. I returned here on my first Friday, the national day of prayer that brought hundreds of thousands to the Square. It was a sea of red, white and black. In so many ways, this revolution had the face of youth. Amidst all furor and celebration, there was an older woman with three children, grandchildren perhaps. She proudly held the two youngest up high, so I would be sure to take their picture. The eldest girl stood confidently on her own.
Prayers
While spending a day exploring the back alleys and mosques of Cairo, it was difficult for me to fully comprehend all its religious history and significance. The prayers coming over loudspeaker were quite beautiful in a way, and left little doubt that I was no longer driving around America. While seated at an outdoor cafe and absorbing the scenes around me, the call to prayer beckoned all the men to mosque. Even for those that didn't go, they would pause their busy day to pray where ever they happened to be. I would often take notice of all the shoes left neatly by the door or beside their small mats.
Boy's Tomb
Just one month ago it would have been so much different at the Great Pyramids of Giza. Though sparsely present in body only, the notorious police, dressed in black, seldom bothered to lift their head from a book or private slumber. As I came to learn, they were no longer accountable to anyone. No regime to fear, and no loyalty to the citizens. I was seemingly alone and free to follow my curiosity—discovering the Pyramids as if maybe the fifth or sixth person ever to do so. After ascending a small dark tunnel out of Cheops tomb and back into light, I noticed this young boy. He played lookout to three men that were in some way restoring a chamber of limestone carvings. The boy seemed as curious as I was.
Lobby
It was a very long night in search of a man named Amro Moussa – quite possibly the next president of Egypt. Our small Egyptian news team were patiently, and rather blindly following Sami, the leader of our oddly assembled outfit, from one dark and dusty old government building to another. I was anxiously anticipating a sudden meeting with a future president, one where I would have only minutes to take the candid portraits I was brought along for. As I didn't understand anything that was said that night, it was often difficult to know what was really happening. While passing through this building's lobby, we began discussing some concerns this Italian woman and myself had about the integrity, and safety, of these men we were going to meet.
Deputy
In a nondescript government building, disrepaired and dirty from the streets outside, there was a labyrinth of old offices connected to each other by very tall wood doors. We had come here to interview Sameh Ashoor, an attorney of very high status, perhaps the next Minister of Law. We were shuffled between several offices with brown leather furniture, thick with smoke and an awkward quiet in the air. Serious old men with jobs that were a mystery to me, seemed to form checkpoints along the way, gradually allowing us to move closer to our goal. When we went into the office of Ashoor's deputy, seated here, I immediately noticed a black hand gun on the desk and the prayer beads he always moved between his fingers. We waited with him for about a half hour, admiring all his boss's portraits and pictures with heads of state. That's my tea cup on the chair, beneath the security camera.
Moped Family
Riding in a taxi on a frantic Cairo highway, we passed this precarious family riding on a moped. It was very alarming to the norms I was used to, and at first I couldn't quite figure out what was wrong with this picture. I came to know Egyptians as a proud, warm-hearted people surrounded by tremendous riches. But ironically, there also seemed to be a distinct lack of common sense, from the highest order of government to the most basic civic functionality. When combined with the tragic, undeserved poverty in which so many citizens lived, it makes scenes like this a little more understandable. I took only one picture, worried that I may distract this mother's balance.
Produce Stand
Having taken the train north to Alexandria, I soon set out on a late night walk and lost myself not all together accidentally. I was now amid a strange maze of back alley vendors. Despite the hour, there were lots of people and rodents who seemed to be right at home here. This neighborhood was desperately poor, and the conditions I walked through were some of the worst I have ever seen. My feet and senses were growing quite tired and I was starting to wonder how I would find my way back to my hotel overlooking the Mediterranean. As I turned a dark corner, the street opened up a bit, framing the soft glow of this old woman's produce stand.
Friends
The first thing I usually do when visiting any new town on game days, is to find a pub or TV somewhere to watch my beloved Manchester United. Despite the surreal chaos of the airport and taxi ride in that remains a blur, my first night in Cairo would be no different. Within a half hour of arriving my humble little hotel in the center of the city, I found an open air café with an Arabic broadcast of an important Champions League match. I went back to this café several more times during my stay, each time greated warmly by these four guys with the only English phrase they knew. They called me 'Wayne Rooney'.
Exhibition Schedule:
Irwin's Bakery & Cafe, Greenlake
Seattle, WA / February 2012 - March 2012
Glazer's Camera gallery
Seattle, WA / March 2012 - May 2012
More shows TBD
Prints for Sale:
Large, 20x30" photographic prints (as shown in this exhibit), and smaller, 12x18" inkjet prints can be purchased for $225 and $100 respectively. All proceeds will go towards a return trip to Egypt to follow up on some of these people and stories. Contact me regarding sales or if you would like to host a free exhibition of these prints at your school or public space.
