My Apologies to the Country

Sakina's husband was a frequent flier. He and George Clooney's character in "Up in the Air" were the only two people Sakina had heard of who owned million mile status. But Sakina herself was usually left behind to parent teenagers and make flight and hotel reservations.  She did not mind this. While her husband was in town, life was lived in the fast lane. When he travelled, it was her me-time. Mealtimes were more lax, she found heretofore hidden pockets of time in which to write, read, unwind and watch Downton Abbey marathons.

But now and again, her husband would take her on business trips. He announced one day that while their children were at summer camp in Scotland, they two of them would be spending a few days in Cairo. Sakina was thrilled. It was definitely on the top ten list of places on her travel bucket list.

On the plane, the British Airways flight magazine contained a seven page article about this civilisation-its unrivalled ancient art and architecture, its burial customs and fascinating history.

When they arrived in the hotel, Sakina was excited to get some first-hand knowledge of this country. She was already overwhemingly infatuated by the scenery and the warmth of the people. The first thing she wanted to do was purchase tickets to that evening's oud concert.  She had read about it in the Times the previous week. It was in a nearby auditoriium featuring the internationally acclaimed Nasser Al Deen.

After checking in, they entered the elevator leading to their floor and a bellboy held their bags. A song was blasting loudly all around the hotel. " Evvverybody have fun tonight. Everybody wang chung tonight." The bellboy was tapping his foot in time to each wang chung. Sakina wondered if he understood that there was such a thing as Billboard's worst songs ever released and that this was probably high up on the list.  Indeed, the real mystery was who had given this group a record contract.

Sakina and her husband freshened up and were ready for dinner. They thought they would eat in the hotel that night and explore the next day. They wandered around looking for the restaurant and then Sakina saw a sign.
Casino.
Were they really in a Muslim country? Sakina was curious and convinced her husband to let her see what an Egyptian gambling den could possibly look like. They went down a few steps into a cavernous room where a couple of middle aged men were pushing coins into slot machines. A mustachioed man in brown trousers and a beige shirt sat behind a bar.  He had a roulette in front of him and was gazing at it as thought it were a crystal ball and held the secrets of his future. He stood up straight when he saw the couple and started yelling.

Sakina was able to pick up that they were not welcome. Was it because she was female? Were they trying to protect her morality? Then the croupier solved the mystery for her."British okay." he said, turning to Sakina's husband who had fair skin and blue eyes but was actually the most culturally Indian man on the face of the earth.  Naturally, his pupils and pigmentation often threw people off.

"Laa, laa missreey!" Sakina understood she was being shooed out because they thought she was Egyptian. Despite the chaos of the moment, Sakina took a moment out to feel flattered. National pride is not an Indian's strong point. Sakina was ready to leave anyway but was interested to know that the casino owners cared about the depravity of their own kind but were happy to take piastres from Western gamblers.

Next door was a room that said Night Klub. 
"Please let me see what this looks like, " she urged her husband who acquiesced, giving in to the wonder in his wife's eyes. He realised he had become used to traveling alone and being soundly in bed by 9pm.

There were seventies disco balls and three revelers in the purple colored room. Dizzying lights flashed all around and a bar-tender was preparing a concoction for a woman with a scarf tightly fastened behind her head. She took a swig and then began gyrating and laughing. The song playing was "Talking in Your Sleep".
Sakina recalled listening to these tunes when she was in secondary school in North London. They had sounded awful then, why on earth would they be playing them now?   They were staying at a Marriott hotel yet she had this feeling of being in a sleazy time warp. She had ended up in a 1980s den-of-mediocrity fest.

The Egyptians could boast dynasties that went back centuries. Maybe it was unfair to expect to see vestiges of it in the Marriott. But even the magazine that had been delivered to their room contained pictures of Britney Spears with her latest love interest surrounded by paragraphs with exclamations in large Arabic text.

Sakina had lived in England since she was a year old. She had experienced mild forms of racism but knew had profited from what her adopted country had to offer. Her heart ached for India, its people and its vibrancy. She had not chosen to emigrate from it but was not one to cry about the partition or the return of the Koh-i-noor.  There were Indians in the House of Lords and Mohammed was now the most popular name in Britain.  Let the Queen keep the wretched diamond.

Sakina and her husband finally sat down to dinner and ordered keshori and baba ghannoug from a bowing waiter in a red suit with shiny gold buttons who knew little English. He set down a silver tray and reached deep inside his pocket.

"MadoNNa?" he enquired, pulling out a photo of Ms Ciconne in her Like A Virgin phase.
"Na' am" Sakina responded. "She's a famous singer."
British colonisation had lasted hundreds of years. She did wonder how long its effects would remain.
Sakina looked at her watch. They might miss the beginning of the oud recital. She suddenly had this desire to apologise to the waiter, to the concierge, to the morally conscious croupier- in fact to all Egyptians. She wanted to shake their hand and say," I'm so sorry, exceedingly sorry."

Sakina's husband was signing the credit card slip and asked if she was ready to go to the concert.
"Not quite, " said Sakina. I have some things to take care of first.