When a man I met on Friday invited me to his family's home for Sunday dinner, it was an uncommon offer. When the invitation turned out to be in Dar el-Salam, one of Egypt's most poverty stricken areas, Easter afternoon turned into a once-in-lifetime affair.

The road to Dar el-Salam is dirt and a crest of smoldering refuse lines the middle of it, picked over by cats, dogs, burros, kids, and collectors trying to bring home any money they can.

It took four attempts to find a cab driver willing to take us. When we arrived, the man who invited me, Hani, sat with a group of 10 or so other men at an outdoor cafe. A small part of the local mafia family, he said he'd grown up beside them and they specialized in "whatever makes them money."

From what I could tell their enterprise includes drugs and theft, but whatever it is offers them neighborhood wide-respect. They took me to a place I couldn't have imagined and perhaps no one from the outside could have gone without a personal escort from them, definitely not an American with two big noisy cameras.

Back through the dusty, narrow alleys, past broken-down billiard tables shoved into mud brick rooms, haphazard grocery stores, and untold apartments, we came to a dead end.

A massive bed of gravel and rock led to a sheer cliff wall and the skeletal remains of apartments destroyed by the last rock slide.

The families whose homes they took me into were unlike anything I'd ever seen, and far hiding the situation they were in, the residents let me stomp into their home because they wanted to let the world know how they lived. They'd appreciate a bit of help from the new government, just picking up the trash would be a nice start, they said.

I've yet to meet someone happy with the results of the revolution and these people were no different. Their neighborhood started to slide about eight years ago, and has gotten dramatically worse in the past couple of years. Water bills have nearly doubled, rents have gone up and incomes way down.

One Muslim family of seven sleeping in a subterranean room invited us to stay for Easter dinner. An incredibly gracious offer we had to decline, as we made our way to Hani's father's apartment.

Dinner was on the table when we arrived. A big plate of French fries and a new bottle of Ketchup sat before the seat of honor, the middle of the couch where I was directed.

There's just enough to get by on now, barely. When people like this can no longer feed their kids, they'll have nothing to lose. Already they pine for the days of former president Mubarak.

Here are a few pictures from the visit. I'll post a longer feature on the experience next week.

They did not have much, but they were all smiles and offering to share. Robert Johnson/Business Insider

Washroom off the kitchen Robert Johnson/Business Insider

Stairs Robert Johnson/Business Insider

Without enough money, women are forced to share the same space as the men Robert Johnson/Business Insider Easter dinner, with French fries and Ketchup for the first American they've met Robert Johnson/Business Insider