I just returned from dinner in Zamalek (a region of Cairo) with my friends. I saw a cross hanging in the rear-view mirror of the cab that was taking me to dinner and had assumed my driver was Coptic. On the way home, I assumed my cab driver was Muslim, as he was blasting Qur'anic recitation on the radio and had a Qur'an laid across his dashboard. Leaving my cab about a block from my apartment, I walked the rest of the way home. While walking I saw a man with a curious, almost scab-like discoloration on his forehead. I used to think such marks were birthmarks because I saw them so often. But a month ago when curiosity finally bested me and I questioned my Egyptian professor about the marks, he explained they were marks of piety, which some men develop after bowing their heads thousands of times in prayer.
As I arrived back at my apartment, I greeted the boabs (doormen) on the ground floor with the typical hello. “Salaam aleikum (Peace be upon you),” to which they replied, “Wa aleikum salaam wa rahmat Allah wa barakatu (And may peace and the blessings and mercy of God be upon you).” When I reached the door of my tenth floor apartment, the American University in Cairo guard sitting outside it had his head bowed over a Qur'an, and I could hear him reciting the verses to himself. I tried not to disturb him as I entered my apartment to find my roommates at the kitchen table doing homework. One of them inquired, “Hey are you coming to dinner tonight?” I responded, “Yes, insha’Allah (If God wills it).” My use of insha’Allah is a habit most foreigners, religious or not, have developed while in Egypt since the Egyptians use this expression whenever talking about anything in the future, from dinner plans to grad school.
Now as I sit here in my room writing this essay, the Muslim call to prayer echoes through my apartment, issued from the mosques that dot the Cairo landscape. Needless to say, signs of religion are ever present in Egypt.
In fact the prevalence of religious discourse in Egypt is striking. I have talked with a fair number of Egyptians and they truly believe in their own religion and agree that there are many genuine believers in Egyptian society. Yet, they also think religion has been distorted by this intense discourse. It creates pressures in society for people to feign piety, even when they do not feel it.
For example, my Egyptian friends say some wear the hijab out of devotion to their religion. Meanwhile, others use it as a tool to be able to stay out late and still be considered respectable. Thus some practices that are intended to be religious are used to subjugate cultural norms.
I wanted to mention this because in light of all the religious symbols in Egyptian society, I think it is easy for most of us to accept them at face value. Especially as foreigners visiting for a few months, we feel we have no right to point out anything other than the devotion that so many here, both Copts and Muslims, have to their religion, which we find both striking and admirable. Yet at the same time, I think it is important to recognize and acknowledge reality, both positive and negative. In doing so we will realize the people of Egypt are like the people of other nations—some are pious, others are not, but regardless, we are all struggling to live the life we see as good.
