Jazzing Things Up

Last Thursday night Mohammad took us to the Cairo Jazz Club, which is more respectable than most of the other, somewhat sleazy clubs, such as the ever popular Latex (I could make several jokes here, but I’d prefer to pause and let the reader do so instead). I don’t go to bars or clubs back home so it’s sort of ironic that my first club experience occurred in Egypt, but I have to say I liked Cairo Jazz. Unlike most other joints here, they have live music most nights, and there are a fair number of tables to sit at and order food if patrons so desire. I did so desire, but it was a busy night and the tables were mostly full; also, the female contingent of our party was more inclined to dance. In the end we ended up staking out a spot along a wall near the bar.

The band playing that night was called Skin Deep, and they’re one of Mohammad’s favorites. They’re Egyptian, but all the songs they performed were all in English. I was surprised to hear them playing Santana when we arrived, which they followed with Stevie Wonder’s Superstition, a personal favorite of mine. I recognized most of the songs throughout the night, especially since they kept coming back to Santana over and over again, inexplicably playing at least five of his songs, including Oye Como Va twice. Impressively, these guys were on all night, playing from 10 to 3 with only 10 or 15 minute breaks.

The other people in Cairo Jazz were mostly Arabs, and it was kind of an older crowd, at least for the club scene. There wasn’t a lot of dancing going on, but a few people were at least swaying rhythmically. Close male-female contact in public is frowned upon in this country, and Mohammad said an American friend of his got kicked out of Cairo Jazz once for kissing his girlfriend. Our girls did the typical college girl thing: circled the wagons and started dancing with each other. I joined in briefly and had my lack of dancing prowess made fun of (as anticipated), but I had fun nonetheless. All said and done I would have preferred a table and some food, but I liked the music and the atmosphere, so Cairo Jazz wasn’t a bad experience overall.

That said, the best part of the night occurred back in the dorm. I got back late in the evening, but a roommate of mine came home even later than I did. He had been out all night at bars with the Georgetown crew, and was in a talkative mood. The conversation we had was at least as entertaining as anything I've seen in Cairo, but I’ve sworn never to discuss it, upon pain of death. Suffice it to say I have sufficient blackmail information for the near future.