The Nile at Night

Why do I only end up by the Nile at night?

Maybe because no one really does much in the heat of the day. And sometimes when I feel the most chaotic in this noisy desert city, I just need to see water. (That may mean running away to the beaches of the Red Sea soon--but I shouldn't forget that the Nile is right here.) Some days I hail a taxi on my way to Zamalek, the  island in the middle of the Nile, stressed and hoping not to get lost or ripped off by the taxi driver. But as I lean back I inevitably look out the window at the giant glittering signs of restaurant boats and feluccas lit up with strings of lights, brimming with Egyptians blasting Arabic pop and celebrating weddings, and I feel a little bit of relief. There's just something about water.

I most often have moments of feeling far away from home when I find myself looking at the sun or the moon over the Nile. It looks different here; I squint straight into the sun too often, an orange orb dulled by the dusty air of Cairo. I forget that it's the sun, perfectly round, looming large over the River.