Last night was a big night for Egypt and Algeria. Last night, the two countries faced each other in the Cairo Staad, the football stadium in Cairo, to determine which of them would head to the 2010 World Cup in South Africa. While you'd imagine that two Arab states who constantly emphasize solidarity would cut each other some slack on the field, this is not the case. Apparently, Egypt and Algeria are mortal enemies when it comes to football, and the general atmosphere reflected that. It was not a good idea to be wearing green last night (I did, but covered it up with a blue sweater and a red scarf; I called myself an opportunist) and if reports are correct, a few Algerians died yesterday in Cairo. More evidence for this can be found in what the Egyptian team was saying to the Algerians during the match -- I'm not good enough at Arabic to read lips, but Kholy is and he happily whispered to me that "kos omak, kos omak wa kos om al-gazaa'ir" was freely tossed around.
We showed up at a cafe just as the game was starting. The place was packed with men wearing red, some of them obviously just off work, and the few odd women who expressed just as much enthusiasm for the match as the males. There was even a little girl, probably ten or so at most, with her face painted and holding a very loud horn, who succeeded in getting everyone worked up about the game and continuing the cheers. It being an ahwa, of course, there was plenty of sheesha.
The match itself was boring. The beginning was great, and so was the end, when Egypt scored with literally ten seconds left on the clock, but otherwise to be honest the teams played pretty poorly. You could feel the tension, though -- while everyone got pretty damn excited after the first goal in the first two minutes of the game, when chance after chance was lost, it was obvious the Egyptians were getting a little disappointed. You see, it was necessary for them to get two goals at least -- since points are tallied as a whole in the qualifiers, with one point, Algeria would have proceeded to the World Cup. With two, there would be a rematch. With three, Egypt would go on.
One goal was all they had, up until the very last seconds. I could see the frustration on the faces of my friends, especially Kholy and Sameh, the latter of which had already given up and was smoking a cigarette in an obvious pout. But when that last goal was made?
The room exploded.
Everyone, everyone, jumped out of their chairs, onto their chairs, screaming and dancing and waving their flags. You could not hear a thing -- it was literally a deafening roar. I've never seen such pure joy on people's faces. You'd think Jesus just came back to life, or maybe Muhammad, in this case. I mean, there's national pride and all that, but holy damn. This was beyond anything I've ever witnessed. I don't think Americans have something to unite them like Egyptians have football. It's simply amazing.
Outside in the streets folks were driving around like madmen in their cars, waving flags and their bodies out the windows, honking horns, flashing lights, playing the national anthem as loud as it could go. It wasn't gridlock -- there was a river of cars, one after another, pouring through the streets in celebration like a giant metal dragon. Little kids were out and about taking part in the festivities, one of whom came up and rather impertinently sprayed Sameh with foam on his stomach.
So on 18 November there will be a rematch. This time, any number of points determines the winner.
It was one of the best nights I've had in Egypt. To top it all off, the cranky night guard in front of the dorms didn't give us the stink eye when we came back in strange men's cars (not strange to us, strange to him) -- instead, he pumped his fists in the air and went "MASR!" And then we did too and had ourselves a nice bonding moment.
As a closing note, I'm also sad that Americans don't have cheers and chants like the Egyptians do. This was the first time I've heard a cheer that literally translates to, "Fuck you, Algeria!"
another truckstop on the way another game that I can play another word I learn to say
another blasted customs post another bloody foreign coast another set of scars to boast
WE ARE THE ROAD CREW
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