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My class was level one, a wonderful group of nine, mostly from the former Soviet Union, which meant we spoke more Russian than Arabic after class. No need to keep fighting." Abu Bakir had lost everything since 1991, including many of his relatives, but I could tell he was a go-getter and would succeed wherever he was, secure in his faith, well educated, universal in outlook.

I marvelled that as I was being politely expelled from Uzbekistan (dictators steer clear of western passports) and preparing to go to Cairo, these eight fellows were scraping together funds and finagling visas from Russia, Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan (no Uzbeks made it), resulting in our meeting in this spartan, drafty classroom far from our far-flung homes, wearing our winter jackets and gloves in the chilly Cairo winter. That's when the trouble began, with crazy plans for independence. Yes, the killing is terrible, but it will stop and things will settle down. He had taken the best of Soviet life and was letting go of the bad of 'independence'."Welcome to Egypt!

It sounds great in retrospect, but over time, proved less and less a place to actually live.

My eccentric rooftop neighbour Anna Boughiguian, the Armenian Egyptian author of Anna's Egypt: an artist's journey (2003), herself spent months at a time visiting artist friends in Germany, following the trail of the Dalai Lama, whatever. The lock on the iron gate at the entrance was mostly broken or left unlocked, which made it convenient for visitors, both expected and unwanted.

The six-week course at Fajr taught very little grammar, and no conversational skills, but it was a start.

The textbooks were Saudi – big, shiny, very multicultural. When I go home, I will bring my children up to be good Muslims.

A good omen, I thought, and it became a kind of Bible for me, where I learned my Arabic watching the daily episodes, along with other musalsal (tv soap operas) over the few years, like a textbook, as I struggled with Arabic.

Despite its unremittingly devastating dissection of Cairo, its colourful characters make it a compelling, heart-warming read.

I visited the real Yacoubian Building on Talaat Harb Street (still referred to by its old name, Suleiman Pasha, Muhammad Ali's French-born general).

1/ Manial2/ My Arab godson 3/ Al-Ahram4/ Bringing down the Brotherhood5/ Sisi – Muhammad Ali redux1/ Manial I stumbled into Cairo after Tashkent, where I had stumbled across Islam, courtesy of dictator Islam Karimov, who – despite his name – persecuted brave Muslims mercilessly, and impelled me to recite the shuhada, at first, more as a sign of solidarity.

I was now determined to learn Arabic, read the Quran, experience Muslim culture first-hand and test my enthusiasm for Islam.

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