I Went to Sixth Grade With a Girl Named Alexandria Williams

...and she wasn't nothing like her namesake. She was actually kind of mean.

With a romantically crumbling 19th-century air, the famous Egyptian port city of Alexandria (dubbed Alex by locals and Cairenes) basks in the Mediterranean sun along a narrow strip of land between the sea and the marshy Nile Delta. The wondrous lighthouse may no longer exist, but the renowned library of old lives on in the form of a brand-new structure opened in 2002. Sixties-era Ladas and Fiats zip past couples and friends strolling arm-in-arm along the palm-lined Corniche. If it weren't for all the robes and head coverings, I could have been in Havana. The bustling, dusty train station is total Bond meets Death on the Nile, and the friendliness of the people has been unmatched by any nationality I've encountered thus far in my travels. I've never been "Welcome[d] home!" before so much in my life. It's especially nice to be back in a place where the people identify with me and my "Egyptian face." Alex, do your thang, gul.



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