This is about the ‘prison’ in Sidi Bishr.
It was near a square (Mohummed Nageeb) facing the corniche. Potentially, it is a good area, except that the official refuse collection does not keep up with the amount of rubbish that accumulates.
I was sharing an apartment with my new Chinese friend who told me it was a clean, beautiful, fully furnished and working apartment. The main attraction of this flatmate was that he use to speak to me in Arabic, seemed passionate about his studies and tried to enjoy himself in Egypt (back in 2014). Sadly, this was no longer the case.
When I had been seriously ill in Alexandria (during my first stint), he took it upon himself to get me on a coach to Cairo to catch my flight. He had encouraged me to learn the Chinese language some day and work in China in the future. I was tired of all the perpetual wars that the UK and the USA were fighting. I was also tired of some of my former friends who had turned materialist and jealous. Whereas these people, seemed less interested in war and just got on with (economic) things. The idea that I should marry a Chinese girl and settle in China started to appeal to me.
I use to dream that I would study Chinese in his (historical) home town (Xian) one day and hang out with him in Hong Kong. Their language and culture use to fascinate me. Perhaps it was just a fantasy and nothing more.
To my horror, the apartment was the complete opposite of what the Chinese guy had led me to believe. The bathroom was broken, the lights were dim, there was rubbish in the corridors around the lift and it was infested with cockroaches.
Later I discovered that there were rodents in the building too. I guess that is expected. Back in London, where there is rubbish there are rats.
The Chinese guy was happy to share the apartment with cockroaches or perhaps with anybody (he would leave the front door unlocked during the night).
Things went from bad to worse. The water stopped running for a week and he accused me of betrayal because I was considering to return home (as I could not find a suitable centre to study). I made him apologize and reminded him that the information he had given me was false (regarding the apartment and the centres in Alexandria). He went on to say that his Syrian friend had found the place and blah, blah, blah.
When I found there were bedbugs, that was the last straw! By that time I knew there were two rooms available at the Sea Star hotel (one basic and the other expensive) and so I packed my bags. It was not a complete surprise to the Chinese guy as I had already hinted that either the cockroaches leave or I would. Also, in the absence of finding a suitable course I would leave Alexandria.
While I was in Jordan planning to return he had suggested that the education in the TAFL center was rubbish and this time round we had planned that I would study at a private centre by the name of Ahlan Misr (or Welcome Egypt, Alexandria branch), which we had both found (however, the courses took forever to organize) and he had convinced me that students had actually returned to Egypt at this time, which was not true. So my time was up and it seemed fair, especially as he had mis-led me, that I could leave him.
In addition to that, he hated the Arabic language (as well as hating living in Egypt) and wanted to learn English. He would listen to One Direction every morning and slowly I felt myself becoming his private tutor. He did not want me to go out except with him and it started too feel like slavery (there was only one key to the apartment).
He use to talk about how the only important thing to him was his own career and he cared not about politics and the poverty of others. He would also joke about the demonstrations and uprisings in China (e.g. Tibet, Xinjiang, etc).
As for my career, it did not seem to matter to him that I had made little progress since leaving Alexandria the first time and currently was doing nothing and was unable to enroll anyplace. Jordan had felt like a waste of time and Alexandria was starting to feel the same way.
There’s a saying that you don’t really know a person until you live with him, travel with him or do business with him. How true is that!
In the end, I left. He was unhappy and was rude to me, but still saw me to a taxi and asked if I would stay in touch.
Arabian Misadventures 