I am the only white woman in Cairo. And apparently I am very busy, or at least much busier than I actually am aware of.
Being a famous and fabulous writer pays off, you get invited to all the cool parties and your presence is highly sought after. And being the consummate social animal that I am, I never turn anything down. You plan to open an envelope, I will attend. A casual, last minute get together for the in-crowd of Cairo’s art scene, count me in. An elaborate event attended by the full A-list, I have my hairdressers appointment made before I RSVP. A social affair nowadays is not complete without my sparkling attendance, and I will make sure my presence is noted. I do seem to be camera shy, in a cunning bid to be elusive, yet highly visible, I never appear on any picture registration of any event. Yet, there is no doubt in anyone’s mind—I was there!
Mind you, not only am I the girl about town, I also manage to show up at work every day. No feeble excuses to sleep off the hang-over, I party hard but keep my commitments. I am indeed Superwoman!
By now you must be wondering if I have lost my mind. Well, I have not. But I do seem to have lost my identity. Somewhere along the line I have become the only foreign, tall, blond, older female in this city of millions.
If you peek down this page you see a picture of me, and this is where the trouble stems from it seems. The details of my nightly exploits are often volunteered when someone’s eyes fall on this very photo, ranging from ‘Oh, I know her’ to ‘Her again, God, you see her everywhere’. Funnily enough, the people that know me well never seem to recognise me from this picture. Not unexpected, in real life I rarely wear make-up, so I look very differently. Once I point out it is me in the photo they see the resemblance, but no one has ever made the connection spontaneously so far.
This discrepancy does not stop many sordid stories about me going around. I attend many parties, sometimes even more than one per night. I am spotted walking around my neighbourhood with another person well known in Cairo. I also like to end my evenings with a bang—I seldom leave parties alone, or so I have heard. Being a white woman and all, I am of course very liberal with my more intimate favours, which is a polite way of repeating what was actually said about me and my moral fibre.
So far most of this nonsense has filtered back to me through friends, but I can’t wait for the day that someone will gleefully tell me a less than flattering fabrication about myself without ever realising they are slandering the person they are talking to. Imagine the fun I will have succinctly putting that poor sod into place!
Maybe I should not be surprised, there are complete websites dedicated to local gossip, but I am. Not about the fact people fill their time with telling tales, we all enjoy a juicy story every now and again. I am stunned however, to find myself the subject of these stories. Contrary to apparent popular belief, I very rarely go out and not very many people know me. My preferred way of spending an evening is in the company of my partner in crime, watching the latest episode of Grey’s Anatomy. Years ago a good friend summed up the extent of my activities: ‘On a day off, you do laundry, bake cookies and have coffee with a good friend’. Not much has changed since then really.
I found being talked about amusing at first, but after the fourth time a friend made a slightly apprehensive inquiry about my whereabouts the previous night, I did get a bit concerned. The sheer number of stories going around made me feel there must be at least another four of me in existence to be able to keep up the pace. A brief bout of self examination made me wonder if maybe there is a Dr. Heid to my Mr. Adel. An intriguing notion that could have possibly led to a scandalous and successful tell-all book, if only it would have been true. Sadly, my life is much more mundane than that.
I finally have come to the conclusion that I have fallen victim to the age old belief that ‘all white people look alike’. So, any fair female above a certain age and height is undoubtedly and unequivocally me.
I have indeed become the only white woman in town.
