I was exhausted and hesitant. I wasn’t sure if I really
wanted to go, and if it was the right time to do it. I did it anyway. I was on
the metro anyway. At some point, I realized I had a stalker. I wasn’t sure how
to handle it. Should I tell him to come with me? Should I ignore him? I got off
the metro and I saw him trying to figure out which direction I was going to. I
kept walking and then looked back. I couldn’t see him. He lost me and I felt
bad about it. He followed me all the way there, only to be lost in the
diverging crowd.
I kept going on towards my mission. I arrived there quite
easily. Once I walked in, I realized I was arriving later than should be. I
shrugged it off and got inside. It wasn’t very promising or diverse inside. I
thought the prospects of making something out of this night were meager. I
think an hour passed doing basically nothing until he showed up. He looked
twinky and terribly cute, which can be an intimidating thing. The exchange of
stares was promising though. I caught him alone a few minutes later and started
a conversation. A few sentences into the conversation, we were making out. We
walked into a private room. We started having sex; good passionate sex. It was
over a while later and then came the awkward moment. We didn’t know each other
and it was time to have a conversation!
We walked out of the place together as he asked me to spend
the rest of the evening with him. I didn’t mind, maybe there lays the
adventure, I thought. His personality started to unravel slowly. He mentioned
working at an Islamic library. I asked if he was a Salafi. “We’re all Salafis”,
he answered. That answer was enough confirmation. He told me he was in Tahrir
often as we started to have a political discussion. He talked eloquently (but
not convincingly) about his views on democracy and how a state should be. I let
my prejudices aside and just listened. He used religious references to stress
how God should be the ruler of Egypt and God’s words should be the
constitution. Then, he mentioned state security and detention. I was even more
curious.
He told me of his ordeal of being arrested by state security
before the revolution, for his affiliation with Salafi groups. He was
interrogated by the police and was asked if he thought Mubarak was an infidel!
He wasn’t afraid of revealing his real views and expressed him vehemently. He
was immediately sent to detention and was tortured mainly by electrocution all
over his body. He was released a few days later but he was given a certificate
that he was unfit to serve in the army. This means that he would continue to
face a lot of problems accessing employment and losing all chances of accessing
government employment. After hearing
this story, I knew well that I won’t be doing any confrontation to his views.
Not that I didn’t have the energy, but I wanted to let him keep talking and
talking.
I couldn’t help but wonder about what made him soften his
views or lead this lifestyle; especially because he told me that being tortured
by the police didn’t make him any less determined. He then told me of why he “regressed”. It
wasn’t police torture that made him question the ideology, but it came from
within the Salafis themselves. It was being lied to be a well-known Salafi
sheikh that was a shock to him. He
couldn’t believe that the sheikh who was followed by thousands, even millions
was such a deceitful person. It wasn’t until then that he started to further
explore his sexuality and meet other guys.
I won’t hide it. I was really taken back by this guy. He was
salafi in his core but no longer dressing like one. He was only 21 and came
from a provincial background in Mansoura. It’s obvious that he has been
struggling with education as he holds a middle degree and struggling to get a
decent income. It’s not hard to relate to this guy. He’s like any of us;
wanting to believe in something, wanting to change his surroundings, and frustrated
with the limited opportunities life has given him. Despite all the stereotypes
about Salafis, he was a sweet, sincere kid. He kept trying to hold my hand
while walking down the street and I was the one reluctant to do it.
We may meet again. I don’t know how it would go then. I
don’t know if I’d reveal more of myself. I know that I hope that he reveals
more of himself.
