My Luxor hotel is right in the middle of the souq, or market. There are lots of cafes and shops where men (no women that I saw) gathered in the evening to watch television. Tonight, there was a big crowd of men crowded around a cafe to watch the FIFA Confederations Cup match between Brazil and the United States.

I approached the crowd to see what was on television. The cafe owner saw me, smiled, and shouted something to the group of men in Arabic. All of a sudden, the crowd parted to reveal an empty chair in the back. I gestured that, no, I did not want to watch, I would go, but they insisted. "You, stay!" I sat.

All the men wanted to know where I was from. I said "America!" and they all said "ooooooh" in a look that suggested, "ouch, that must be painful for you!" Then they smiled and said "Brazil!" This was a big group of Brazil fans.

By this point, I had gathered that Brazil was winning the game. I also remembered that the United States had defeated Egypt a few days earlier. I concluded that it was in my best interest to join the crowd in cheering for Brazil.

Using a combination of exaggerated facial expressions and hand gestures, I indicated that I like America, but think Brazil is better at futbol. The men howled with delight.

For about an hour, I was one of the guys. I cheered along. I drank a Sprite. (No one was drinking alcohol.) I politely declined an offer to smoke a hookah. I made polite, superficial chitchat with the young gentlemen around me. I successfully resisted the urge to ask why no women were watching with them. I had a blast.