Everyone has been asking me if things feel or look any different here in Cairo after the revolution.  When I left, there were tanks in my neighborhood, a curfew, lots of gunfire, there was no internet, and Mubarak was still president.  Now, Mubarak is gone, the police are back on the streets, the tanks have rolled out, and everywhere you look you will find evidence of national pride.  Egyptian flags hang from windows of villas and taxicab rearview mirrors. Tree trunks and lightposts along many streets are painted with the red, black, and white stripes of the Egyptian flag, and the graffiti has changed too.  A wall once scrawled with band names, soccer rivalries, and so-and-so + so-and-so, has been painted over with Egyptian flags, hearts, and statements like “We are Egyptian.”

But more importantly, everyone has a story to tell.  I have really enjoyed hearing the varied experiences from different people I have met.  Whether they were in Tahrir daily during the revolution, or at home in Maadi protecting their neighborhoods, or whether they returned to Cairo in time to celebrate Mubarak’s resignation in Tahrir, the stories I have heard have been amazing.

Earlier this week we went to dinner at Tabouleh, a really great restaurant located near the US embassy in Garden City.  After dinner we decided to walk around, and passed through Tahrir.  I’ve been to Tahrir many times in the past, but it seemed much busier than I recalled.  It seemed like there were a lot more families and groups of people sitting in the center of the midan, enjoying the beautiful Cairo evening while traffic noisily passed around the circle.  I also noticed several Egyptians stopping and taking photos posing in front of the square.  It was amazing to think that this was the iconic location of the revolution.  To think of the events that actually took place where we stood, the struggle for freedom, the violence, the sacrifice and loss of life, and the organization and hope that lead to the resignation of Mubarak — I couldn’t help but stop to appreciate for a moment what a significant place this has become.

To pass under the busy streets, we took the underground Metro tunnels.  When we first entered, the walls were lined with photos of Tahrir during the revolution. On other walls there were posters recognizing the revolution’s martyrs and artwork that captured the energy and hope of the crowds that filled the square.

As we walked around downtown, I also noticed a lot of graffiti.  I don’t recall there being very much graffiti in Cairo prior to the revolution, and certainly hadn’t seen anything so bold.  This reminded me how grateful I am for free speech.  It’s hard to imagine living somewhere where you cannot openly speak your mind, and it is pretty incredible to imagine the freedom whoever wrote this must have felt as they scrawled their hopes on the wall of Al Horreya, a local bar in downtown Cairo whose name, Al Horreya, means Freedom in Arabic.

There were also lots of stenciled machine guns on walls and kiosks on the streets surrounding Tahrir.  Most of them had Xs spraypainted over them.  This one however was a little odd…

It was all pretty fascinating.  I was glad to have a chance to see it, to take a minute and think about what actually took place here, and to hope for horreya for all.