Cairo is a city of two tales--and, perhaps, a foreword of what Los Angeles might become

I am applauded and criticized for describing Cairo as trashy, noisy and overcrowded, and calling it the Los Angeles of the future.

Betty Linse of San Diego fears that I “have fallen into the pitfall of writing about a place and its conditions using another author’s opinions and echoing what that author wrote as gospel.”

I have never been in Cairo. I took my vision of that city from David Lamb’s new book, “The Arabs: Journeys Beyond the Mirage.” For years I have admired and trusted Lamb’s work as a foreign correspondent for The Times; he spent 3 1/2 years in the Middle East, and I do indeed take his description of Cairo as gospel.

Most of us are obliged to draw our understanding of the world from historians and reporters. Even our own observations, as travelers, are no substitute for the reasoned summations of experienced on-the-scene correspondents. Some years ago I spent a few days in Moscow and Leningrad. A reader later wrote that, judging from my account of it, I must have seen a different Leningrad than he did. No doubt I did.

Mrs. Linse says she and a friend spent 12 days in Cairo, but did not see the conditions Lamb describes.

She concedes that the traffic is “almost gridlock,” but says it did move, and one eventually got where one wanted to go. “The amazing thing,” she adds, “is that there are no accidents!”

Lamb, on the contrary, reports that Cairo’s accident rate--80 fatalities and 600 injuries per 10,000 vehicles--is the highest in the world. “At that rate,the United States’ traffic toll would be 1.3 million dead and nearly 10 million injured every year.”

Mrs. Linse concedes that there is air pollution, and describes it graphically: “The ever blowing sands from the nearby desert, the traffic of 11 million people and growing at an alarming rate, the building and tearing down and the rebuilding everywhere, and a working limestone quarry right in the middle of Cairo!”

She also concedes that there are “ever more mud or raw concrete cellblock-like houses encroaching onto the desert, and one’s impression is drab . Soon they will have to fence off the Pyramids!”

But she saw many flowering trees, bushes, flowers, gardens, lawns and parks; she saw none of the accumulations of trash Lamb describes; and she found the natives invariably clean.

“We found kindness, courtesy, generosity, warmth and friendliness in Egypt. We had no fears at any time and we were two middle-aged women on the loose in a Third World country!”

I confess that in quoting Lamb on Cairo’s horrors I did not give equal weight to his eloquent description of its charms. My purpose was to show Cairo at its worst as a warning to Los Angeles of what we can become.

As for the sense of security Mrs. Linse and her friend felt, Lamb notes that after he had been in Cairo six months he made an inventory of his personal property, fully expecting the city “to erupt one hot summer day in a frenzy of violent protest over horrible living conditions, intolerable housing, poverty-level salaries and the immense gap between rich and poor.”

He adds: “This never happened. In fact, Cairo didn’t even have any crime to speak of. Muggings, house burglaries and car thefts were uncommon, even in the poorest sections of the city. Murder and rape and violence were rare. In a city of 14 million, you could walk any street without fear.”

The reason for this, Lamb concludes, was that “the Egyptians, unlike many Arabs, had an escape valve for their frustrations and anger--a sense of humor. They joked constantly, about themselves, their leaders, their lives, about everything except religion. . . . Their crowded existence reinforced their sense of community, and they laughed and argued and shouted with great gusto. Even in the worst of times, their optimism was unquenchable.”

In the end, Lamb found that “loving Cairo was difficult; hating it was impossible.”

Arnold Leland of Los Angeles was also impressed by the Cairene’s sense of humor. “Yes, the streets are a horror. Lots of garbage; traffic is terrifying. What is not mentioned is the beauty and warmth of the people. Their great charm and their incredible sense of humor. Travel the buses today in L.A. No smiles. No laughter. Then travel--if you dare--the buses in Cairo. . . .”

Gerry Lunderville, a Long Beach schoolteacher, echoes my fears that Los Angeles will soon be as trashy as Cairo.

“When I lived (in the East) I rarely saw people throw papers on the highways, kids drop empty pop cans on the edges of sidewalks, and people of all ages discard containers from fast-food outlets. Here, it is most prevalent. . . .

“Even in public schools, the attitude is, ‘What do we have janitors for?’ I taught for 17 years in public high schools and in college back East. I have never seen the volume of trash accumulated in one day that I see at my work at Wilson High School in Long Beach. . . .”

As for our increasing traffic congestion, Mrs. Linse recalls that during the 1984 Olympic Games people car-pooled and rode buses “and the whole world saw an L.A. without smog!”

It was indeed a remarkable achievement. Could we really do it again if we tried?

My optimism is not unquenchable. I fear that by the end of the century Los Angeles will be as bad as Lamb’s worst visions of Cairo.

But I’m trying to keep my sense of humor.