No One Sleeps in Alexandria

by Ibrahim Abdel Meguid

  “She is a beautiful girl with a magnificent neck who lets her hair drift languidly in the wine of her complexion. She walks like-kings and sits like sultans. Her eves invite humanity to explode, to dissolve in her open arms and her full breasts. The beauty of her flesh is a heavenly gift.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I was remembering some beautiful poetry. But unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like I’ll get to see France.”

  “I was making a lot of progress in French until you came along and slowed everything down.”

  “Were you going to continue?”

  “Yes. You’ve made me fall in love with France.”

  “But unfortunately we won’t see it.”

  “Don’t be such a pessimist. The war will surely end soon. We’ve got enough time.”

  He fell silent for a moment then asked, “You really think so?”

  She smiled and did not answer. In the distance, there were some sailboats coming toward them, filled with sacks and some southern sailors in their blue and gray gallabiyas.

  “They make a long voyage from south to north,” he said.

  She smiled more broadly.

  “Did you know I was from the south?” she asked him.

  “A white southerner! You must be a southerner from heaven. Do you know the song that says, ‘You’re a houri from heaven/You sneaked in and opened heaven’s gate’?”

  “I listen to it a lot and laugh. I also listen to Abd al-Wahhab and Sayyid Darwish. I love them. Last night they were playing Sayyid Darwish’s songs and I cried.”

  He looked at her for a while.

  “Was it when he sang, ‘You deserve it, my heart. Why did you ever fall in love?’“

  “How did you know?” “I heard it. Listen.”

  He began to sing to her, and she laughed at his husky voice. A sailboat had come alongside them, and one of the sailors was standing there watching them and smiling. When he heard Rushdí’s singing he sang to them:

  O Captain of the sea, take me with you

  To learn a trade before I shame myself,

  To leave my land and live far away.

  I send my greetings morn and night

  To one whose love has brought me woe.

  I looked up and saw the sail in the wind

  And I said, Maybe I’ll stay on land instead.

  Rushdi smiled and shouted to ask him if he wanted to hear him make up a mawwal, an Alexandrian rhyme song. The southern sailor said that would be great. So Rushdi thought for a moment, as Camilla smiled, not believing what was happening, feeling elated at her lover’s beautiful madness. Rushdi sang:

  My eyes saw a galleon adrift on the sea,

  Its captain valiant but his rudder, alas, lost

  His eyes could not see, the water swept him.

  Even his sail was broken, what was left was tossed.

  Camilla nudged him gently in the shoulder, impressed, then applauded in admiration. The sailor sang again:

  Two gazelles riding a came!

  Have smitten me.

  She, the sun; he, the moon

  The abode is the heart; the door, the eye.

  Rushdi laughed and began to row away as he said to the sailor, “But we’re riding a boat!”

  “And the abode is the boat,” the sailor sang back.

  Rushdi understood, and he began to explain to Camilla, who was surprised that the sailor could handle such concepts. The last thing the sailor said to them as he sailed away was, “Blame not the wounded one if he groans.”

  Suddenly her face turned ashen. She pointed to the water and stood up, screaming. The boat shook and almost capsized. Rushdi stood up quickly and held her arms as she screamed hysterically.

  “Don’t be afraid. Don’t be afraid. Close your eyes. Close your eyes.”

  She closed her eyes. He went closer to her, and took her in his arms as the boat shook. Then he sat on one side and made her sit on the side of the boat close to the bank of the canal. He grabbed the oars and began to row at a frenzied speed.

  “Don’t look at the water. Look at the bank.”

  In the water was a swollen sack. From a small opening, a purplish human hand protruded, one finger bearing a ring that shone in the sun—a small, delicate hand of a girl or a woman. He also could not look at the floating sack and kept looking in front of him, rowing frantically to get as far away as possible. When he arrived at the docks in Nuzha, he thought she was conscious and only leaning on him and looking at the bank of the canal. He had not looked at her while he was rowing. As soon as he stood up at the dock, though, she fell to the side where he had been seated; she had been unconscious the whole way without his knowing ¡t. She needed several minutes to come to. Dozens of girls offered her bottles of cologne and cheap perfume. She needed a whole hour of rest before she could stand and return home with him. That day she was out too late for a girl like her. At home there was a firestorm waiting: the school had sent her father a letter informing him of her repeated absences. Yvonne could not lie any more to her parents. She told the whole story, crying and shaking the whole time.

  If they divulge the secret, their lives would he forfeited

  As would be the lives of lovers.

  Suhrawardi

  19

  The spring offensive started in Europe. The ice had begun to melt on the mountains, and the fog had dissipated over the land. Fires burned, and Berlin and Hamburg suffered devastating air raids by the British. English cities in turn were devastated by raids as Germany began to carry out a new offensive against ports. British ports were subjected to intensive raids, some of which lasted three consecutive nights, as happened in Portsmouth and Manchester, where casualties reached more than two thousand. At the same time, German submarines began to use the wolf-pack method: a group of submarines would simultaneously attack a single target and destroy it. Lieutenant Guenther Prien, one of the most famous German U-boat captains, and others followed this horrific method developed during the previous world war. But Prien and all the other men on U-47 were drowned when the British destroyer Wolverine sank their submarine. U-99 and U-l 00, whose captains, together with Prien, were the most influential leaders in the German navy, were also sunk in heavy fighting, thus handing German U-boats a serious blow. Focke-Wulfe 190 planes, better known as ‘Condors,’ were even deadlier than the U-boats, as they flew great distances over the ocean in search of British ships. The United States began to export military equipment to England, in accordance with the lend-lease program. The States sent Britain seventy-five destroyers and a fleet of boats together. Roosevelt addressed the American people, declaring that no race had the right to subjugate another and no nation to enslave another. There were heavy raids against Cairo and Giza; Alexandrians were no longer the only target. The trains carried large numbers of Indian soldiers coming by boat from their country to Suez. They were mostly under twenty, happy with their uniforms and equipment, unmindful of what it meant to die away from home. Cinema Metro in Cairo screened Mutiny on the Bounty, starring Clark Gable and Charles Laughton. Cinema Studio Misr in Cairo screened The Triumph of Youth, starring Farid al-Atrash and his beautiful sister Asmahan. People in Alexandria continued to complain about adulterated flour. The young men in Karmuz and other native quarters discovered that small military cars were roaming the streets at night during the raids and shooting their anti-aircraft guns at the raiding planes. They realized that those cars were the reason the native quarters were singled out for bombing. Their purpose was to divert the attention of the raiding planes away from the English camps in the suburbs and away from the harbor, where British destroyers and French boats, seized by the British without a fight before the surrender of the Vichy government, were anchored. Groups of patriotic young Egyptian men formed to chase those cars, first with Molotov cocktails, then with hand grenades—an action that limited their appearances during the raids, until they completely disappeared. After that, the raids on the center of Alexandria and Dikhayla and Maks in the west and Sidi Bish
r and Bacos in the east diminished. The defeat of Graziani, whose army completely collapsed, contributed to the diminishing scope of the raids. Graziani’s defeat was too big to hide. Il Duce gave a speech in which he admitted defeat: “We do not lie like the British. A whole army, the Fifth Army, with almost all of its units, has been overrun, and the Fifth Air Force has been almost totally obliterated, but we were able to offer strong, sometimes violent resistance.” Mogadishu, capital of Italian Somalia, fell into the hands of the British, then Berbera, winter capital of British Somahland, also fell. Graziani was ousted from all his posts, General Cavallero was likewise removed from his command of the Albanian front after the sweeping victories of the Greeks. General Italo Gariboldi was appointed to the command in Libya. Britain threatened Bulgaria not to give up its neutrality as the Germans amassed troops at its borders. British paratroopers landed in southern Italy, and Genoa was bombed from the sea. The English paratroopers were captured. King Idris al-Sanusi, in full Islamic regalia and round beard, visited the camp of the Libyan battalion made up of Libyan refugees in Egypt. In Libya, the new military governor’s warning was broadcast: “I, Henry Maitland Wilson, commander in chief of the British forces in Libya, hereby warn all inhabitants of the region formerly under Italian control to cease and desist from any action that disturbs public security.” Haille Selassie entered Ethiopia and spoke to his people, congratulating them on the victory. The Nile boat Puritan hosted a party for RAF pilots returning from the battlefields on a one-night furlough at its anchoring place in Gezira in Cairo. During the party Hikmat Fahmi, the number-one dancer in Egypt and all of the east, danced, and Abbas al-Bilaydi, Muhammad Amin, and Aqila Ratib sang. A charity gala party was held at Studio Misr Cinema to raise funds for the Egyptian Red Crescent and Red Cross. Her Royal Highness Queen Nazh and Her Royal Highness Princess Fayza attended, in the royal box seats. The name of the armored division commander who led the attack on Sidi Barraní the previous December, wreaking havoc on the Italian forces and defeating them, was disclosed. It was Lt. General Richard O’Connor. Yugoslavia joined the Axis, but demonstrations erupted, and a coup d’état ended the monarchy there. Yugoslavia declared its neutrality. In the month of February, Italy lost 364 planes. Yusuf Wahbi celebrated the nineteenth anniversary of the establishment of Ramses Theater by showing the play The Madman, in which the brilliant actress Rose al-Yusuf co-starred with him. The British foreign secretary Anthony Eden came to Egypt and met with Egyptian leaders as well as the Eighth Army.

  Usta Ghibriyal announced that the railroad authority needed two workers to work at the al-Alamein railway station. He had been summoned to the administration office that morning and was charged with the task, to be completed within a month. “So, whoever wishes to go should come to me, and I will convey his name to the administration.” Then he added, “I know that you’re all married with children, and that you don’t like to stay away from home for a long time. But you have time to think. I hope to find someone who volunteers to go because if that doesn’t happen, I will make the choice myself and, I am told, my decision is final.” Magd al-Din and Dimyan felt they might end up being chosen for that. If no one stepped forward, Ghibriyal would choose them to minimize the problem as much as possible, for they had the least seniority.

  Ghaffara began to stay away from Ghayt al-Aynab and Karmuz after most houses there had become vacant. He started working in the neighborhoods of Ghurbal, Paulino, and Muharram Bey every day in the early morning, but would return in the middle of the night, desperate and tired since he had earned hardly enough to feed his donkey. One of the pieces of glass that he used as an eyepiece had fallen off his fez and he did not replace it.

  As for Zahra, she had grown big; her seventh month was almost ending, and sitting with Umm Hamidu was no longer a welcome distraction. How could a pregnant woman sit at the entrance of a house on the pavement? Therefore she was deprived of her stories at a time that she needed them most, for now Sitt Maryam’s door was only opened to let someone in or out. It seemed the whole family wished to avoid speaking to anyone. The priest’s visits increased— they became almost a daily occurrence. Zahra would always hear mumbling, muffled quarrels and groans, and sometimes silent weeping. She did not know what to do for the good family that suddenly seemed not to want to talk with anyone.

  Umm Hamidu also needed Zahra more those days since Hamidu, her only son, had been arrested and moved to Sinai together with criminals who threatened the security and safety of the country during wartime. The few inhabitants still left in the street were depressed. When a man or a woman would come to buy fruit or vegetables, they would come in silence and leave in silence, their eyes fixed on the ground, as if carrying a mountain of shame. It was feeling the emptiness surrounding everything and expecting death at any time during an air raid that made people so fragile. The only one left for Umm Hamidu to talk with was the vegetable wholesaler each dawn on his cart drawn by a strong horse. As for the Territorial Army soldier who sang and proposed to her, he had been transferred to Damanhur. Zahra told Magd al-Din, “The priest is coming everyday now. I don’t see either of the girls. I don’t know when they leave in the morning. Apparently they sneak out quietly so I won’t see them. Sitt Maryam doesn’t open her door during the day.”

  She was surprised when Magd al-Din told her, “And I’ve met Dimitri more than once on the stairs, and he hasn’t stopped to speak to me—he just says hello and goes on. Today he politely asked me if I could move down to Bahi’s room. But I felt he wanted to tell me to move out of the house altogether.”

  Right away Zahra said, “There are so many vacant houses, and thousands who want to rent rooms.”

  “No. We won’t leave the house. We’ll go downstairs. Dirmtri’s in a tight spot. Today he doesn’t want us to know anything, but tomorrow he might need us.”

  Dimyan helped him move the few articles of furniture to Bahi’s room. As soon as Zahra walked in and opened the window looking out on the street and saw Umm Hamidu in the entrance of the opposite house, she felt relief. Here she was not going to suffer the silence that seemed to have taken root on the second floor. She would hear people and children coming and going and talking. After they moved the furniture, Dimyan took Magd al-Din to the café far away on the Mahmudiya canal near the lupino bean vendors. They had not been here in a very long time.

  “Why did you bring me here, Dimyan?” Magd al-Din asked him. “We’d almost forgotten this place.”

  “Well, first, I’ve made great progress in reading and writing. In a few days, I’ll be able to read the newspaper.”

  “Praise the Lord!”

  “Second, I wanted to tell you that Khawaga Dimitri is going through a big crisis.”

  “I know that, but I don’t know what kind of crisis, and he doesn’t talk to me.”

  “I think it’s a crisis that one doesn’t talk about,” said Dimyan after a pause. “It’s also preoccupying the priest at the church. I’ve heard a few things in church about the subject, but I’m not sure whether they were talking about Dimitri or somebody else.” They both fell silent for a long time. Magd al-Din was not the inquisitive kind and never made an effort to know what people were doing. Even secrets that came his way, he did not divulge. He hated scandal-mongering and gossip of all kinds.

  “There’s talk about a Christian girl’s love for a Muslim boy,” Dimyan finally said.

  Magd al-Din’s eyes opened wide in surprise. That was the first time he had heard about that.

  “This is something that happens rarely, Sheikh Magd,” Dimyan continued, “and it always fails, but only after causing crises at home and in the church. Eor you in Islam, there’s no problem. In our case, there is.”

  Magd al-Din made no reply. “Of course, I don’t know whether this has anything to do with Dimitri’s family or not. But in any case, Dimitri has a problem that only time will reveal.”

  Magd al-Din returned home dejected. Zahra asked him why he was down, and he could find no excuse but Hamza to get him
out of the sticky situation. He said Hamza had not vet returned— and that was true. She said he had already told her that. He told her there was much talk about his possibly being a prisoner of war, held by the Germans. She could not imagine how he knew that. He also did not know how and why he said that. Hamza’s disappearance a few days before had caused him and his colleagues a great deal of worry. Usta Ghibriyal notified the railroad administration, which notified the Alexandria police department, which informed them that it in turn had notified the military command of the Eighth Army in Marsa Matruh and was waiting for news. Hamza’s wife and his three young daughters never stopped crying at their home in the railroad housing compound. Hamza’s relatives came from Rosetta. They turned out to be well-off and quite respectable. It also turned out that one of his cousins was a notable who held an important position in the Wafd party and that he was pulling all the strings he could to get news about poor Hamza.

  Ordinarily when Hamza’s colleagues spoke in disapproval and surprise about what had happened to him, a silent sadness would fall over them. But the matter was not without its humorous aspects. One of them would say that Hamza would suffer most from silence because he would not understand English or Indian, and the few words that he knew would not really help him. He would not get a chance to say that he had seen what the soldiers said they had seen or that it had happened to him before it happened to them. Neither Bayram’s poetry, nor anyone else’s, would do him any good. But in the end they would express total disbelief. Who would have thought that this had been preordained for Hamza?