El Corniche

The following is the diary-introduction to a paper I'm currently writing on Alexandria's corniche and Mahraganat music's profound effect on the sonic construction of the space. It's been a long time since I posted a blog and I thought this could work. <3

What music will be the soundtrack to my routine jog along the Corniche today? I would ask myself this question nearly every day as I took the elevator from my apartment in central Alexandria and walked the two blocks out to the coast. Normally I’d switch back and forth between some hip art-rock band from Brooklyn and West Coast hip-hop, imposing my American sensibilities onto the landscape that I was still attempting to blend in with. When jogging, even Arab genes can’t prevent you from looking like a complete foreigner. Save for a couple of other expatriates and the occasional Malaysian university student, I’d most likely be the sole person on the Corniche running, sporting my short-shorts and white Apple headphones. It was never a problem, though. The vast majority of people understood that this is merely a thing that white kids do when they come to Alex to attend their study abroad programs. Every once in a while someone would try to race me or dance in front of me as I approached. A couple of times people would ask to join me and we’d have a short conversation before they dropped out and resumed their daily activities. At the end of my jog, around the neighborhood Sporting, I would descend on to the large cubic stones intended to prevent erosion and do some simple calisthenics. The salty waves crashed on my face as I support my body with my hands, the Mediterranean imposing itself on all of my senses.

After my short exercise, I would always walk back to my apartment. Partly because I’m not a super-star athlete and the idea of running all the way back seemed both terrible and impossible, but mostly because I enjoyed spending this part of my day just walking and taking in the magnificence of the city. Even if I didn’t quite look the part, this was the most Alexandrian I felt throughout the time I lived there. This is not to say that I perfectly assimilated into the culture or that my Arabic was at top-form (far from it), but it was in these moments that I felt most at peace and comfortable with my environment. The taxis honking, the tirmis vendors offering a snack, the provocative and enticing sounds emanating from the speakers of the motorcycles speeding past…

Photo by R.S. Fischer (Dickie's future pen-name)