Air Raid in Maadi

My mom was going shopping. Not that this is anything special mind you, but this time I HAD to go with her.

We walked along Port Said Street. I was watching the overfilled buses fly by while my mother hummed as she walked.
Watching the buses was actually a fun activity. There were so many people hanging out of the buses…..out of the windows and about 3 layers of people hanging out of the door. Some of the hangers on were holding on by their fingertips. The bus never actually stops at a bus stop, it just slows down. If anyone wants on or off, they have to work it. The running mount is not as awesome as the flying dismount. In the running mount, the pedestrian starts running in the same direction as the bus. He starts running before the bus even gets there and as the bus pulls along side he grabs hold of the bus, or a person that’s hanging onto the bus, and swings on. Once on he holds on for dear life. The flying dismount is awesome because the person hanging on has to start running in the air before he hits the ground, and then he runs like crazy to keep from falling flat on his face. I could watch them all day. I have seen old men, young men, fat men and even a one legged man do this. They must be extremely agile!

We arrive at Maadi center. Mom entered the “Greek Store” , if it had an actual name no one every used it. It was just called the greek store as it was owned and run by greeks. I wandered over to the photo store to see what they had. The proprietor quickly covered the German porn magazines up with a towel as I entered.
I looked around at all the stuff on the shelves. After a time I left to look for my mother. She was not at the Greek store. She may have gone over to the Gumayya (government store) or the Benzion department store. I began to head in that direction when the Air raid sirens sounded.

AAAAAAHHHHHunnnnnnnnnAAAAAAAAhhhhhhh! AAAAAAHHHHHunnnnnnnnnAAAAAAAAhhhhhhh!
It blasted its Ah-un-ah noise. I covered my ears. People began running all over. I looked for my mother and could not see her. I ran out into the middle of the street. Where was she?
I knew I had to find shelter, but where was I to go?
The streets were almost empty now. There were a few stragglers running to shops. I just stood there in the street yelling for my mother. A man came running toward me. His galabiyya was flapping around his legs. He had one child in is arms and one hanging on his back. With one fluid moment he bent down, shifted the weight of his child, and picked me up. He continued running to the store across the road. The store was dark, the man continued to the back of the store. There were a lot of people back there. He set me down. “Fein Umek?” (Where’s your mother?) I looked at him and shrugged “mish arfa” (I do not know). An old woman sat cross legged on the floor said Ma‘alish and she patted the floor beside her. I sat down beside her and she hugged me and held my hand while we waited. Everyone was talking in low voices and the old lady half hummed and half sang a song that I hear Omm Nadia sing all the time. The planes flew by and seemed to be headed to the desert behind our school. We waited for what seemed to be an eternity until finally, we heard the All Clear. Everyone began talking loudly again. People started leaving the store. I followed everyone out into the sun. I had to squint while coming out of the darkness into the brightness of the day. The man who carried me to the shelter stooped down, pointed and said quietly to me “is that your mother”
I saw my mother coming out of the shop across from me. “Shukran” (thank you) I said to him while waving farewell. I ran across the street and hugged her.
“We have had quite an adventure today” she said gently. “Let’s go get an ice-cream” and so we walked over to Gomaa’s store to get a Groppi ice-cream.