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Egyptian Taxi Drivers

“Why do Americans hate Egyptians?” the taxi driver said, glancing at me in the rear view mirror. He wore a full bushy beard. A Koran sat conspicuously in front of him on the dash board.  To be honest, I was a little worried about getting in when he stopped for us on the street. But it was late, and it would have been very awkward since he had agreed to our price. It didn’t help that he decided to take an unusual route to our downtown Cairo hotel. I thought it would be best to ask. He assured me it was longer but quicker. When he found out that we’re from America, he became quite chatty.

It was his first question and it took me by surprise. “Who told you that?” I asked him. He said that he had lots of friends who had travelled to the United States.  They insisted that Americans hate Egyptians. “They’re liars,” I said oddly, offended by those “friends.” I translated for my husband and he joined the conversation.  We told him that Americans admire Egypt’s history and that in any case, if Americans have issues with a country, its with their government, not their people.

 Then he asked if my American husband was also a Muslim. “No,” I told him, “we’re Christians.” I held my breath wondering how he would react. “Some of my best friends are Christians,” he said. It was so cliche’ but he seemed sincere. Whenever someone is sick, he told me, they all go and visit him in the hospital, regardless of his religion. As Cairo, still alive and bustling at 11pm, passed by our window, our taxi driver put his index finger up.  Violence between Muslims and Christians were fomented by “outsiders,” he said. Extremism has never been part of Egypt’s culture. We emphatically agreed with him. I decided not to ask him who these “outsiders” might be.

 When we arrived at the hotel, my husband reached into his wallet and leaned over to my ear. “I’m going to practice some public diplomacy,” he said. I wondered how much money that was going to cost us. We wished the taxi driver a good night as my husband handed him double the fare.

The State Department can thank us later.

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