his dear bride absent. Worse, she had told nobody where she was going or when she would return. Not that Imam feared for her safety; Cairo was one of the safest cities in the world. Policemen were always in plain view with their heavy black boots hitting the asphalt hard with every step, announcing the presence and alertness of the law. I had my own experiences with them as a boy in Cairo. Occasionally they would declare their presence by an audible baritone cough, which we youngsters called the government cough. Sometimes when they felt uncertain about a pedestrian they would demand to know who was there, and one had to answer, giving his full name and address. If that satisfied the alert watchman he would say, Maa el Salama – Go in peace. Some of them we knew by their voice and cough and we would salute, saying, Izzayak Ya Shawish – How are you, Sergeant?”
No, what really bothered Imam that evening was that Bulbul had just walked out of the house without a word to anyone. This was un-Egyptian in the extreme and quite lacking in good taste – unacceptable from any member of the family. In the time they had spent together in London, Imam was well aware of her free, adventurous spirit and he had thought it charming. But now she was in Egypt. This would not do at all.
The eastern end of the cemetery is a large area of barren desert. There the Gypsies lit their fires at dusk and the fair began, with children excitedly watching first the jugglers, then the bareback horsemen with their wild, daring tricks. Bulbul found herself pushed into an area where a man was engaged in a comical performance with two monkeys. The female monkey did a double backward somersault and other acrobatics, but the male was rebellious. The Gypsy waved a stick at him and said some harsh words, then hit the monkey on his hindquarters. Losing patience, the man began striking him repeatedly about the face while the monkey cowered and whimpered. Bulbul couldn’t bear to watch such cruelty. She rushed up and put herself between the man and the pitiful creature, wrenching the stick from the man’s hand. A group of Gypsies pulled her away. “No good, Miss…no good!” one of them shouted to her. “Very bad luck for you…bad luck for family too!” Surrounded by the hostile mob she looked around frantically for a way out.
Miracles do sometimes happen. Tarek, perhaps feeling unchivalrous for leaving her earlier, was suddenly there again, and with the help of one of the gypsy men, waded into the mess and pulled her to safety. The man gave her a strange, intent stare as she left with Tarek.
When she was home again with her Egyptian family, explaining in utter truthfulness what had happened, she was not greeted with understanding but with extreme disapproval. There were no words to make her behavior acceptable. Imam was careful to keep his fury under control. It was unbecoming to make a row with his bride so soon after their wedding.
The next day his father went out before sunrise to perform his morning prayers in the nearby mosque, as was his lifelong practice. On his return his face had the serene expression that Bulbul found to be a source of comfort and happiness each morning when he greeted her. At the morning’s breakfast table he leaned towards her and said gently in a low whisper, “My dear daughter, do not ever do that foolishness you did last evening. We must know where you plan to go. You are new to this country and you have all the time to get to know Cairo well. But please do not choose such unwholesome places like the festival of those Gypsies. Besides, you must never forget that it is your husband’s right to know where you are going.” His voice became more firm. “In our class of people each married partner must know where the other is going and when he is supposed to be back home. This is indispensable to keeping the family structure in good order.” Heavy silence fell upon the family at the table. There was nothing more to say.
the obedient wife
Now, when Bulbul wanted to leave the house to go to the museum or to the area of Giza to watch the excavations of the famous archaeologists working there, she abided by the rules. She would ask permission from her father-in-law or mother-in-law, but not before asking for the consent of her husband.
Things went smoothly until one day, a few months later, when Imam informed her that they would be moving into their new apartment on the Cairo island of Manya el Roda by the end of the month. Imam’s declaration of independence came as a shock to his bride even though he had written his feelings about this in letters to her before they were married. His parents had dismissed his “too modern” idea of living apart from the family home so soon after the marriage and thought the matter settled. But apparently it wasn’t.
Bulbul didn’t want to leave the atmospheric beauty of Old Cairo. She wanted things to stay just the way they were. She always knew that sooner or later she would have to be mistress of her own house, but these pampered and spoiled honeymoon days in Imam’s father’s house were so pleasant! Here she never had to go into the kitchen; if she ever had, she would probably have been completely lost in it. So far, she had been saved the ordeal of having to actually cook for her husband, let alone manage a household. She could never be even a little like her beautiful mother-in-law whose every gesture spoke of nobility and the womanly virtues.
Imam’s will prevailed, and they moved into the apartment he had selected in a very pleasant, tree-lined area of Manya el Roda. Bulbul tried to be a good sport, but she knew right away that being a good Egyptian wife would be an effort, especially the matter of cooking for Imam.
Earlier, during one of her ramblings in Cairo’s business center she had visited the Anglo-Egyptian Bookstore where she found an English language book on French cooking. She thought she discovered a treasure, the solution to her culinary woes. Unfortunately, she was too optimistic about the powers of her “miracle book.”
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
