Inshallah bukra

“Egypt,” said my neighbor, a slender Chinese man, leaning across the row of chairs towards me, “is a timeless country.” It’s hard to dispute that. As one of the oldest (and the longest continuous history of a state) and culturally richest civilizations on earth, the Egyptians left their legacy in the form of opulent artifacts and an astounding cultural heritage, from the ancient pharaohs to the Roman, Arab, Ottoman, and modern leaders entrusted with these people and their past. It’s inconceivable how many centuries of habitation have shaped this place, how much time and history have flown down the Nile, made their marks and continued on (at least before the Aswan High Dam). Being here gives the sense of history, of a place progressively built long ago, of mosques and walls and fortresses—and also the sense of culture. Modern Egypt is juxtaposed atop the ancient ruins of former civilizations and more modern constructions, and most buildings in the older part of Cairo have been around three times as long as my country.

But what my neighbor meant was not the history but rather the punctuality, as the conference was running significantly late and our stomachs had informed us that lunch was long overdue. As the joke goes, the concept of punctuality can vary widly: German punctuality means five minutes early, Americans have five to ten minutes before it’s ‘late’ (although the cable guy is a law unto himself with his whole “Tuesday or Thursday between 8 AM and 12:30”), the French clock in about a quarter to a half hour or so after the meeting time (panne de réveil or embouteillage sur le trottoir). Don’t expect the Spaniards within forty-five minutes of when they’re supposed to be somewhere (and if you’re lucky, it’s not mañana)—and for the Arabs, it’s inshallah bukra: tomorrow, God willing.