No One Sleeps in Alexandria

by Ibrahim Abdel Meguid

  They both fell silent for a long time. Magd al-Din started thinking about Hamza, whom he had mocked today, and how Hamza now seemed noble in his eyes. Then he remembered Lula and what had happened a few days earlier and he grew tense. It was not easy for Zahra to be acquainted with a woman who turned out to be an adulteress. It was not easy also to live in the house of good Dimitri, who since that day had felt ashamed every time he saw Magd al-Din because he had not carefully screened his tenants. What were people saying now about good Dimitri and his children? Could Dimitri have turned down a tenant paying sixty piasters a month? And Bahi, his brother, had he known about Lula? And if he did, how could he have chosen for him to live in the same house? He smiled sarcastically at this last question and heard Dimyan say, “Look, it’s Wahid the plainclothes policeman!”

  Wahid was walking toward them in a blue gallabiya with vertical white stripes and a khaki overcoat. He had a white skullcap on his head and a gray scarf around his neck. In his hand he held a long bamboo stick that he waved around from time to time. They knew him well and met him almost every day and shared some of the goodies that the soldiers had given them. He was used to that and did it to all the workers he came across. And even though he was well dressed in clean clothes, and despite his pleasant, placid face, when he spoke he sounded like an uncouth, brutal clod, as Sheikh Magd al-Din described him all the time. Wahid was notorious in the whole neighborhood for shaking down everyone and for having no scruples whatsoever when it came to framing someone. He saw them as he saw them every day, and shouted as if he had just noticed them, “What are you carrying?”

  “As you can see, some English canned stuff,” Dimyan answered, smiling, and Wahid said, “You mean from the English warehouses?”

  Neither of them knew where the English warehouses were, but they figured that today he wanted to get more than he usually got from them.

  “What warehouses! Here, just take a couple of packets of tea, Wahid,” Dimyan said, as his smile grew broader.

  But Wahid shouted, “I have to take you in—this is larceny!”

  He raised his stick, threatening them. Magd al-Din gave him a long savage look. He had looked around and saw the open space, as the sun was quietly setting, a cool breeze blowing and the dark gently beginning to cover the ground. He could hardly see the rails on top of the crossties, as everything was the color of dust.

  “You know, Wahid,” said Magd al-Din, “I could knock you to the ground and slit your throat on the track without anyone seeing you.”

  “What did you say, Sheikh Magd? Slit my throat?” Wahid asked in a more subdued voice, and he lowered his stick.

  “Yes,” Magd al-Din replied, “and the train will come, and in the morning people will see that it cut off your head.”

  Dimyan was genuinely frightened by what his friend was saying.

  “We have two cartons, as you can see,” Magd al-Din went on. “In each there is tea, cookies, corned beef, and cheese. We will give you a whole carton, and the two of us will share one, on condition that you never bother us again. Every time you think of doing it, remember that I can slit your throat without anyone seeing. Take the carton and leave in peace.”

  Wahid, as if in a daze, took the carton.

  Dimyan and Magd al-Din walked in silence, then Dimyan asked, “You were really going to slit his throat, Sheikh Magd?”

  “Yes. Today I can slit anyone’s throat.”

  They continued on their way home in silence.

  I did not hold myself back

  I gave in completely and went.

  I went to those pleasures

  That lie on the edge

  Between reality and imagination

  I walked in the brilliant night

  And drank the strong wine the valiant

  seekers of pleasure drink.

  Constantine Cavafy

  15

  Japan attacked Indochina, expanding its war along the western and southern coast of Asia, since it was already at war with China. The Japanese giant was restless, and it began to stretch and spew forth its fire. America saw Japan’s military power and ventures as a threat and began to stand on guard. People everywhere began to realize that the entire globe would soon be engulfed in the flames of war.

  In Egypt, British planes attacked the new Italian positions in Sidi Barraní, in raids that lasted four hours and extended into Benghazi to hit the Italians’ lines of communication. The ministry of supply decreased the amount of coal sold to ironers and pressers, since no coal was being imported from England and a large number of trains were being used for military transport. Ironers and pressers complained vociferously. Some brazen young men started going out at night, wearing frightening gas masks to take girls and women by surprise in the dark alleys. Groups of such masked youth appeared at times like herds of bulls going to their bullpens or leaving them for the faraway grazing pastures. The Italians started using a new kind of bomb that looked like a thermos bottle, which did not explode on impact but afterwards, when moved or touched. A campaign began to warn Alexandrians against such bombs, which had shiny surfaces that could not be seen clearly in bright sunlight. People were distressed because for the second year in a row, the month of Ramadan came and no lights or public celebrations were permitted. The price of many commodities went up, and kerosene was rationed. The price of potatoes rose from fifteen milliemes an English kilo to twenty-seven and from ten milliemes an Egyptian kilo to twenty. A large section of the wall of the corniche at Sidi Bishr collapsed as a result of water seepage. The royal banquets of Ramadan were no longer enough to keep the poor happy. In Alexandria there was only one banquet, held in front of the Mursi Abu al-Abbas mosque, whereas in Cairo, people said, they were held everywhere. In that banquet, taro root, meat, rice, fava beans, vegetables, and pastries were served for free. The deputy-governor himself inaugurated the banquet and ate with the poor, apologizing for the absence of the governor, who had gone to Cairo to congratulate His Majesty the King on the advent of the month of Ramadan. The ministry of social affairs formed a commission to study the increasing immodesty of women, as a result of the increase in the number of foreigners and their need for entertainment and the need for money among many segments of the population.

  For Magd al-Din, Ramadan was no different from the year before, only now the women stayed up without Lula. Zahra noticed that Camilla had once more become silent and oblivious to others. She spoke once and said it was no longer permitted to stay in the cinemas during raids, night or day. Maryam asked Zahra why she did not leave Alexandria when everyone was leaving, especially since she was now pregnant and it would be better for her to give birth in her village. Zahra said that was a long way away, but that she would surely do that. She was lying, for she could never leave Magd al-Din. But she had no choice, as she could not explain how her husband had been expelled from his village.

  As the feast celebrating the end of Ramadan approached, the world watched with bated breath as Italy started its predations of Greece. On October 28, which coincided with the feast in Alexandria, Italy invaded Greece from Albania. The Greek prime minister, Metaxas, displayed great courage in rejecting the Italian ultimatum, and Greece launched a counterattack. The Greeks in Alexandria rose up against the invasion. Young Greek men gathered in front of the Greek consulate, volunteering to fight in defense of the country of Achilles, Agamemnon, Hercules, Zeus, Hera, Aphrodite, Apollo, the Muses, Oedipus, Electra, and Pygmalion—the country that no one had ever disliked or could dislike now. The Egyptians admired the courage of the Greeks and began to greet their Greek neighbors with admiration and respect, The Greeks continued to be optimistic: “Il Duce is a miserable fellow,” they told their Egyptian neighbors. They held enthusiastic poetry readings and sang and danced fervently.

  Hitler had met with Franco a few days earlier at the French-Spanish border, but there was no indication that Spain would join in the war. New instructions were issued in France to exclude Jews from working in administrative and government p
osts, the press, cinema, or radio. Exceptions were made for those who had performed distinguished scientific services or who were decorated veterans of the previous world war.

  In Alexandria, a train arrived from Suez carrying troops from South Africa who were said to be young Jews escaping the Nazi inferno. Those who survived, it was said, would go to Palestine after the war. They were welcomed in Alexandria at Sidi Gabir Station by the notables of the Jewish community, Sidnawi, Cicurel, Salvago and others. Young Jewish women showered them with flowers and blew kisses from their windows, and many Egyptians in the station greeted and applauded them. The train left for the desert in the evening, made no stops, and did not come across any workers until it arrived at Marsa Matruh two days later, when it dropped off the soldiers and brought back a batch of Australian soldiers for rest and recreation. A car was set aside for Italian prisoners of war, including a number of Libyans who were released later in Alexandria after it was established that they had been forced to serve with the Italian forces, and after they said that they were looking forward to the Allies entering Libya to rid them of Graziani, representative of the crazy Duce.

  In Alexandria the fame of the new dancer Lula spread like wildfire. She danced to the Greek tunes of her doting accordion-playing husband, who never took his eyes off her. A drummer, who also sang, mainly to point out how curvaceous she was, accompanied her. She now only danced for the pashas at their mansions. A war had been raging over her among the dancing and singing women. She had previously been working with Usta Naima al-Saghir in Bahari and Sayyala, but she had disappeared with her lover until she was found by her husband, who had left the troupe and joined that of Bata al-Salamuni, whose turf extended from Karmuz to Kom al-Shuqafa and Qabbari. Usta Suma al-Nagili from Farahda and Labban entered the fray, as did Usta Fawziya al-Massiri, Naima’s archrival in Bahari. But the impresarios, who were out of work because of the ban on public nighttime celebrations and whose only job was to organize parties for the pashas, arranged a meeting among the Ustas and stopped the war. “The world war is enough,” they said. Bata al-Salamuni paid twenty pounds in reparation to Naima al-Saghir and the rest of the troupes agreed that Lula would dance for them once a month at any place they chose. The same terms were made available to the men’s troupes: Hamama al-Attar from Bahari, Said al-Hadrawi from Hadra, Anwar Salama from Karmuz, and Sayyid al-Halawani from Bacos. Thus Lula became a boon to the dancing and singing troupes in Alexandria. The only thing left for her to do was to dance at the Atheneos or Windsor or other such corniche nightclubs, which were always full of soldiers and ATS women.

  The story of Lula reached Sitt Maryam and Zahra, who were surprised at the wiles of women and also of men, for Lula’s husband, who had seemed so jealous the day she was arrested, was now the very one accompanying her as she danced in the mansions. They had forgotten all about her, until the day they went out to the piazza in Karmuz. In the midst of the fishmongers and greengrocers and the stifling smells of the market, Sitt Maryam and Zahra saw a taxicab parked at the entrance of Sultan Husayn Street and a woman signaling to them from inside the taxi. They looked at each other in hesitation as they heard her voice, “Sitt Umm Camilla, Sitt Umm Yvonne.” It was unmistakably Lula’s voice. They went toward the taxi after looking around. What made them respond to her call in spite of their fear of being seen?

  “Come on in. Don’t be afraid.”

  She was sitting in the back seat and they sat next to her.

  “Drive on,” she said.

  “Where to?”

  “Home.”

  “The house is right there.”

  “Drive to the door, buster. These are respectable women—do you want them to be seen in public with me?”

  The driver fell silent, as did everyone. Zahra crept closer to Sitt Maryam and clung to her.

  Sitt Maryam regretted getting into the taxi. Zahra must have gotten in because of her. “Here we are,” said the driver, as he entered a side alley and stopped.

  They got out. Lula looked at him and laughed as Sitt Maryam smiled, but Zahra looked frightened. They heard the driver say, “Sitt Lula, are we not respectable folk, too?”

  “Get a move on, you son of a club-footed woman,” Lula shouted, and the driver drove away laughing.

  “Please pardon me, I would like to invite you to a cup of coffee at my place to see my apartment. Please, Sitt Maryam, Sitt Zahra. Sure, I may be bad, but I’m married. I’d even say I am good.”

  As if hypnotized, they went in with her through the dark entrance of the house. They went up the stairs to the first floor, hardly able to see in the dark. Lula placed the key into the keyhole of the wooden door and opened it, then went ahead to open the windows, through which a little light entered, just enough to see one another and talk. Sitt Maryam and Zahra sat on the first two chairs they came across in the living room. Lula came back after a little while with a small spirit stove, a coffeepot, three cups, and a pitcher of water and sat in front of them on the floor. Lula looked prettier than she had in Dimitri’s house. “It feels like I kidnapped you from the street, right?”

  Zahra did not answer, and Sitt Maryam told herself that silence was better.

  “How are Sheikh Magd al-Din and Khawaga Dimitri?” asked Lula. “I used to hear Sheikh Magd’s voice as he recited the Quran at night—his voice went through the walls and came to me, a beautiful and soothing voice. Two days before my husband found me, I had intended to repent and go back to him because of Sheikh Magd al-Din’s voice, even though I didn’t understand anything from the Quran, but every time he said, ‘Which of the favors of your Lord will you deny?’ I would cry—really cry.”

  Zahra said to herself, “I ask God Almighty for forgiveness.” She felt that it was not proper for the word of God ever to be uttered by that woman. They sat for a long time as Lula told them about the fight over her by the women’s troupes and how it was settled by the men: “The men can handle anything; you get nothing from women except lies and deceit.” She told them about the nights of the pashas, which rivaled those described in One Thousand and One Nights.

  “Like who, Lula? Of course Abbud Pasha was one of them,” asked Sitt Maryam.

  “All of them—Abbud, Farghali, Spahi, and Tawil. I once danced at Tawil Pasha’s mansion in the presence of Nahhas Pasha himself. Yes, he had just had an abscess removed and had come to Alexandria to recuperate. But, to tell you the truth, he was always looking at the floor. Maybe once or twice he raised his eyes to me. I felt he was afraid of me, not of the other political parties. How many parties are there in Egypt, anyway? At any rate, all pashas are generous, even Salvatorc Cicurel and Salvago, who own the streetcar lines. He bought me a streetcar.”

  They all laughed for the first time. Caution and regret were now gone.

  “The only one left is His Majesty the King,” Lula went on. “I danced for the princes. He’s the only one left. If I danced for him I’d work in films with Abd al-Wahhab and go to Cairo, and leave behind Alexandria and all these air raids. There’s hope next summer I’ll dance at Muntaza. The war would surely be over by then—it must! I’ve asked Sitt Didi, who lives here on Sultan Street. She’s the best designer of dance outfits. I told her to cut an outfit for me, open on all sides, from behind, front, and at the waist and along with the spangles and the beads and the rhinestones, to add some genuine diamonds. You know, Sitt Maryam, sometimes I miss you all very much.”

  They drank the coffee. Zahra noticed that the living room was clean and the seats comfortable, not new but shiny. She also noticed some musical instruments—a lute, a tabla, a tambourine, cymbals, an accordion—scattered all over, some shiny, some old and dusty, but on the whole it was a comfortable place and appealing to the eye.

  After they drank the coffee, Sitt Lula got up to bring some dance outfits to show them. Zahra looked at Sitt Maryam in dismay, but the latter calmly said, “Let’s see the outfits and leave without looking at anything else. We’ll never come to the piazza again.”

  As they were
hurrying down the stairs, Lula shouted, “Please send my greetings to Khawaga Dimitri and Sheikh Magd al-Din and to Camilla and Yvonne. I promise you I’ll dance at their weddings—I surely will!”

  She had also told them about the foreign impresario who had promised her a trip to Europe, adding that there she would make good ubbayyig, and when she saw that they were puzzled, she said it meant she would make good money.

  “The women who run the dance troupes have their own lingo,” she explained, laughing. “You say, for instance, today it is megamema, which means you’re out of work, and abriz means going to the bathroom, arkbi means food, and ayma means a big profit. There are many harder words that no one except these women can understand, because it’s all inspired by hashish.”

  That strange meeting remained engraved in Zahra’s mind for several days. She looked at Sitt Maryam in confusion and fear; she had committed a sin against Magd al-Din.

  One day Sitt Maryam surprised her by telling her in front of her daughters, “Why are you tormenting yourself, Zahra? You can go ahead and tell Sheikh Magd about our meeting with Lula. There’s no problem. I told Dimitri about it, and he laughed. But he said we shouldn’t go to the piazza, exactly as I had told you, and to buy our things here from Sidi Karim or from far away, from Bahari.”

  So, it was not very serious; she could tell Magd al-Din. But she never did, Magd al-Din appeared to be in a state of constant silence. She wondered what he was so preoccupied with.

  In that regard, he was not any different from Camilla, who returned to silence and despondency. She only spoke a very few words to Zahra—”How are you,” “Good morning,” “Good evening,” and nothing else. Zahra now saw her eyes always welling up with tears. The truth was that Camilla had become certain that she had taken a road of no return. She had advanced in her study of French in the Berlitz school in the summer, and when her regular school started she had not stopped her French lessons, changing her schedule from a morning to an afternoon one, as evening classes had been banned since the beginning of the war. There were two days on which she left Nabawiya Musa school, went to Berlitz, and returned home at about four o’clock. Yvonne had stopped taking French, deciding to resume it the following summer. Camilla asked herself many times why she was persevering in her study of the French language and longing to read the great poets—Baudelaire, Verlaine, Rimbaud, Éluard, André Breton, and Aragon—but she had no answer. She once found herself during a lesson repeating to herself the sentence that she had uttered unintentionally during the first lesson, “Je l’aime,” and discovered that she repeated it to herself frequently. Then she added, also without much thinking, “et il m’aime aussi.” Her eyes opened like two flowers and her small, rounded breasts quivered as fire swept through her tender body and she felt her nose catch on fire. Two days later, after she got out of school and had reached Fuad Street and was walking in the cold shadow of the big buildings on that wonderful Alexandrian autumn day, she felt that someone was walking along with her on the other side of the street, neither going ahead nor falling behind her. She felt rays coming from his direction, hitting her right check, waking up her blood. She turned and saw him. Fainting was not a sufficient solution. Her feet almost let her down, and she would have collapsed had she not leaned on a wall for a few moments. Then she saw him in front of her, smiling and happy.