For the beauty of Egypt's cities to shine through, urban planners should prioritise people not cars, writes Ahmed Dorghamy* So amusing, it established itself as a tourist attraction: the adventurous Egyptian street. Welcome to the loud pulse of Cairo. Painfully, however, heavy pollution, harassment and 9000 traffic casualties a year slowly strip away the comedy and reveal the underlying tragic reality. Some 20 million people are spending their days and nights asking the same question: When will the day come when Cairo's streets are clean, the ambulance gets through the gridlock, the girl enjoys her walk, and the child survives the street? Certainly not when the noise in the street pushes us over the edge, and when parking lots evolve into games of ultimate Tetris. Meanwhile, people continue to silently accept the chaos and violation of their rights. Is it not possible to see change? After all, dream streets are a reality in many other large cities around the world, from Ottowa and Davis in North America, to Basel, Amsterdam and Barcelona in Europe, to Melbourne in Australia and Singapore in Asia. Why should Cairenes accept any less than the dream streets their city deserves? But looking further ahead, dream streets in Egypt wouldn't only mean hope for refreshing strolls down a peaceful road and a happy life for you in your car. It would also unravel something one would only find in Cairo. We are surrounded by traces of thousands of years of amazing stories and heritage that one might only notice in rare moments of tranquility when everyone else is at home, be it the early Friday morning jog, the trip to the airport at dawn, or that urgent errand that you had to make during the last quarter of the FIFA World Cup final. But emptier streets are only one item on a disturbingly long checklist that if fulfilled would qualify our streets as humane; or, if you still remember, to qualify our city to potentially host the next FIFA championship. Take air pollution, for instance. More than a third of the fuel burnt in Egypt goes to the transportation sector alone -- to aging fleets of poorly tuned vehicles coughing soot as they wobble by, wasting energy and money. Not only is it poor tuning and maintenance, but some car parts installed for emissions reduction are deliberately torn out by the first uncertified mechanic that sets hands on the vehicle in an attempt to reduce "unnecessary" pressure on the exhaust system. Even when tuned, vehicles emit a mix of invisible harmful pollutants such as nitrogen oxides, sulfur oxides and particulate matter of different compositions and size so small that they can enter the bloodstream through the lungs. We need another look at the simple ideas of promoting non-motorised transport (typically walking and cycling) and collective public transport -- what environmental planners call "green mobility" and multimodal transport, an optimal mix of options. And don't forget the Nile. Why is Cairo's friendly tramway dying out for instance? We should seek inspiration from foresighted planners, maybe the Belgian engineer and entrepreneur Baron Empain who established the Société des Tramways du Caire (Cairo Tramway Company) in 1894 to build and operate the Cairo tramways system. It soon accommodated some 53 million passengers a year. There is no need to reinvent the wheel. His footprints remain to this day, not only in the surviving trams, but also in what remains of the carefully planned Heliopolis city and the well- preserved Korba district we enjoy today, its infrastructure, streets, and its buildings. Features of the dream streets we long for are simple: cleanliness, safety, tranquillity, friendly planning, spacious sidewalks, smooth cycling lanes, courteous drivers, vivid greenery, good taste and fresh air. These are also features of a powerful country with caring proactive citizens that don't give up. Whatever happened to the Korba experiment? In an attempt to draw attention to the importance of healthy lifestyles, green transportation and a healthy urban environment, Cairo Cycler's Club (CCC) advocacy group lobbied in the media to entirely close Baghdad Street in Korba district of Heliopolis for pedestrians -- quite ambitious it seemed. Aiming for the stars, they landed on a once-a-week experiment: Baghdad Street for pedestrians on Fridays. Good enough for celebration. For CCC members, this meant weekly morning visits to the street for a peaceful sunny gathering to remember what birds sound like in an urban environment, and how fresh air energises the body for the coming week. But for the masses of youth from all classes that it attracted after sunset, this experiment meant an outlet for so much energy and excitement, but celebrated in chaos, vandalism, and most lately, harassment. Shop owners and local residents could no longer tolerate the graffiti on their walls, the littering at their doorsteps, the fire crackers set off around their children, noise in all senses, and dog fights in the crowds. On the other hand, this disturbing phenomenon triggered sympathy and reflection among some observers. It is quite astonishing how a simple empty and clean street got our kids -- and many adults -- on the verge of mass hysteria. Several weeks later, after a few trials of traditionally enforcing order, the authorities gave up: the experiment is over. For CCC however, it is only one battle lost. This tells a bit about why today the trend is to live in isolation, in a bubble, for those who can afford to. TVs and computers are isolating us in a virtual world of our choice, with cars isolating us from the noise and air pollution or numerous other horrors of the Egyptian street. We travel around in shuttles from one bubble to the other. No wonder why much of our youth has become so detached from Cairo and blinded to its splendour -- they have abandoned it beneath the rubble. But not everyone has. In more than a glimpse of hope, a large movement of trendsetters has lately been talking people back into challenging the streets and air of Cairo for change. Featured on popular TV channels, international radio, in magazines and newspapers, approaching 2000 members and spinning off clubs in other cities, governorates, and even abroad, CCC uses the bike in their logo to symbolise so much that we miss in our urban society. In all of its diverse events, the symbol has already done a lot: telling the shy to go out, reminding the narrow minded that girls can enjoy the streets, challenging the uptight to loosen up, the sluggish to exercise, the car owner to listen to a better social statement, the selfish to remember those who can't afford the bubble, pushing the careless to go green, and the passive to act and be visible, and telling the world we won't give up on Cairo. If we cannot create one "dream street" -- if not the street celebrated annually under the auspices of the First Lady, neighbouring the presidential palace, boasting such a harmony of Islamic and European architecture, and already closed off in response to public demand -- then how will any other beauty in Egypt see the light? Rather than resorting to traditional enforcement of order, this challenge is a call for any sociologist, politician, psychologist, environmentalist, and activists of all disciplines to brainstorm for intelligent solutions. A second try, this time with creative planning and ingenuity, is an excellent learning opportunity for those devoted to see change happen at large. Next time you're roaming around Cairo, Alexandria, Hurghada, or any of the cities of CCC and its spin-offs, when you drive by a cyclist, look beyond the bicycle, and make way for change. * The writer is an Environmental Management Consultant, JICA/REMIP
