Since monday 17th, it’s been raining. We spent our time analyzing the notes by Bekir Bey and working on photography. Twice we endeavored to go with our high boots into the streets of Cairo, full of big lakes of mud - the poor Arabs wade mid-leg in there and shiver. Business is suspended; the bazaars are closed; everything looks sad and cold. Some houses collapse in the rain. Ashes and rubles are spread over the mud to dry it. And so gradually rises the level of the ground.