开罗是个见鬼的城市。太古老的文明像太多灰尘累积成壳,令这个总是炎热的城市有种无法擦拭的陈旧感。对于一个游客而言,开罗总有种持历史自傲,看着你出笑话的距离感。经历了几场粗暴的骗局之后,我把自己的钱包和心都看得很紧。晚上8点,吃过了晚饭,总算凉爽一点儿,开罗人三三两两地聚集在路边,干点儿什么或者什么都不干,只是这么扎着堆,吹点儿风。一个15岁左右的男孩子走近我,他瘦瘦的,个子不高,穿着一件很难形容的夹克,和所有人都一样的牛仔裤。“你好,你是游客吗?”不错的英语,但我没 Cairo is a hell of a city. Too old civilizations, like too much dust accumulating into shells, make this always hot city a kind of old-fashioned feeling that can not be wiped away. For a tourist, Cairo always has a history of pride, watching you feel a sense of distance jokes. After a few rough scams, I took my wallet and my heart very seriously. At 8 o’clock in the evening, after having had dinner, I finally got a little cooler. The people of Cairo gathered in twos and threes, did something dry or did nothing, just bolted and windy. A 15-year-old boy approached me. He was skinny, not tall, wearing a jacket that was hard to describe, and the same jeans as everyone else. “Hello, are you a tourist?” "Good English, but I did not