My friend, Sam, who live son a houseboat on the Nile writes:
As the protesters marched forward some policemen were left behind. About half a dozen or so jumped the fence onto the property next door. They were terrified. These were not the the boys with the riot gear. They were 40 something officers with stars on their shoulders. Rocks were being thrown at them as they hid on the side of the boat. They were between the protesters and the nile. As the crowd moved forward, they stayed on the ledge of the boat for hours. Asking me for water, and at one point, a change of clothes so that they could go home in civilian garb. “Please brother, can you throw us a used robe… an old dirty one is fine,” yelled a desperate man, who a few minutes before was commanding forces agaist civilians. My dilema was not whether to give it to them or not… I wanted them to leave. It was that the clothes that I brought to Cairo were my favorite ones. I wasn’t really ready to part with them. I asked them to hold on while I went through my closet and found “my cleanest dirty shirts.” I turned on my deck light, one floor above them, to throw the clothes over. This frightened them because they were no longer in the dark. They asked me to turn off the light while I threw, over a 10 foot gap in the Nile, some American Apparel t-shirts and thermals on to the 12 inch ledge that they we standing on. They changed and and asked for a shopping bag to place their uniforms. They stood on the ledge for another two hours before getting the courage to walk through the crowds and return home as the entire Cairo police force had just done.