There are many idiosyncratic little quirks that I have noticed about this country since I arrived, but by far my favorite little Egyptian eccentricity is their overwhelming terror of the Swine Flu. It permeates every level of society, sends shivers down the back of the lowliest beggar and the loftiest AUC'er, makes people slam their shutters, kill every pig in the country, and - - AND - - makes the government cancel University for two and a half weeks.
We went into class last Wednesday, and by the end of the day had learned that we would not be coming back tomorrow; we would not, in fact, be coming back til October 3rd!
But why? we asked. How could this possibly be prudent? Our schedules have already been all wacky because of Ramadan, and we've only had a week and a half of class so far! Why would you do this, AUC?
Swine Flu, they answered solemnly. Government orders. Go home, stay put, and for God's sake wash your hands.
So go home we did. But stay put we did not. When faced with such a wonderful opportunity for adventure, how can one NOT act upon it? And so, here it is: our Grand Jordanian Adventure.
God bless you, Swine Flu!
- - - - - - -
Our adventure started at 4 am on Thursday. 4 am is an ungodly time to get up. But you know what: I always feel like Grand Adventures need to start disgustingly early. There's something about getting out in the pre-dawn gloom that really reinforces the fact that you're GOING somewhere. I mean, why else would you EVER agree to get up so early? There must be something really good waiting on the other side.
Autumn and I would be traveling by bus to Nuweiba, a port town toward the south of the
The best part about this plan is, we put it together about six hours before we left. This is why I love traveling with Autumn. We had known for a while that we wanted to go to
I won't bore you with the details of the trip, but suffice it to say we set out expecting at least something to go wrong - and were shocked when the journey went as smooth as one could possibly imagine! We got on the bus, got off the bus, got on the ferry, got off the ferry, with a minimal amount of fuss or inconvenience. We even stopped and had a soda on the way. And then we were in
So we found a nearby taxi driver, only to discover:
No no, this was not part of the plan! By now it was getting on to 6:30, and what's more, the driver wanted 60 dinar (about $70) for the trip! But after trying unsuccessfully to find a public bus to take us there, and wasting another half hour to an hour, and worrying about poor Cory, who had arrived at the Sheraton around 6 and would undoubtedly start to worry soon, we finally agreed. We managed to talk to driver down to 50 dinar total, and we were on our way.
Thus ensued one of the most uncomfortable rides imaginable. We had been traveling for 14 hours already, were dead tired, were in a rush, were not feeling particularly sociable - and the driver was being ridiculous! He spent half an hour driving around Aqaba trying to convince one of this friends to keep him company on the ride; we finally told him, firmly, that we were in a bit of a rush and he needed to start driving now, at which point he tried to convince one of us to sit up front with him to keep him company! Autumn and I have heard a few too many horror stories to agree to that, especially considering he had told me I was beautiful not fifteen minutes before, so we - again, firmly - declined the invitation, and - again, firmly - asked him to start the damn trip. Then we promptly feigned sleep to avoid having to speak to him for the next four hours. He kept trying to wake us up - by stopping and buying us sodas, by flicking on the inside cab light - but we were determined! And, as I said, dead tired.
But finally we arrived! And it was beautiful! And that bed was the most heavenly bed I have ever slept on. And we awoke in the morning and had a huge, delicious breakfast, and were ready to start our adventure.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Part 1: Even Swine Flu has a Silver Lining: Carolyn's Jordanian Adventure Begins
The Past Two Weeks
Dear Blogosphere,
I have disappeared off the web for the past two weeks, but with good reason! Due to forces beyond our control, AUC canceled classes for two and a half weeks. And, rather than sit at home and mourn the missed educational opportunity, some friends and I decided to seek education in a more experience-based manner.
By which I mean: TRAVELING ADVENTURE! YEAH YEAH!
We spent our first week in Jordan: visiting Aqaba, on the coast; Amman, the capital; Petra, the beautiful rose-colored city; and the Dead Sea, among other things. Then we returned to Cairo for two days before heading out yet again, to Sharm el-Sheik, in the south of the Sinai. It's a lot to document so I'm doing it in increments, with pictures to go along. It's more manageable for reading and a lot less intimidating for writing.
So then: here we go!
I have disappeared off the web for the past two weeks, but with good reason! Due to forces beyond our control, AUC canceled classes for two and a half weeks. And, rather than sit at home and mourn the missed educational opportunity, some friends and I decided to seek education in a more experience-based manner.
By which I mean: TRAVELING ADVENTURE! YEAH YEAH!
We spent our first week in Jordan: visiting Aqaba, on the coast; Amman, the capital; Petra, the beautiful rose-colored city; and the Dead Sea, among other things. Then we returned to Cairo for two days before heading out yet again, to Sharm el-Sheik, in the south of the Sinai. It's a lot to document so I'm doing it in increments, with pictures to go along. It's more manageable for reading and a lot less intimidating for writing.
So then: here we go!
Monday, September 14, 2009
Hello, Blogosphere old friend!
I got a lovely email from my father today, in which he gently reminded me that I have been neglecting my poor blog for some time now. Too true, padre. So here I am, to update the world on all the going’s-on of the past week.
For the most part there hasn’t been too much to report. After much running around and groaning and planning and replanning my schedule finally ended up exactly how I wanted it, which is a miracle and a half. The final line-up (drumroll, please): that Islamist Movements class that I had been so excited about, in addition to Economics of Developing Nations, International Organizations, Comparative Politics, and a 3-credit Arabic class, as opposed to the 6-credit beast I had originally planned on taking. I sighed a little sigh to let it go, but it means that I can now take all the classes I need to take, and will even graduate on time when I return home.
And that was just a little too sweet to pass up.
My classes contain mostly Egyptians, which lends a very interesting perspective to the discussions. I’m always a little self-conscious about being from Big Bad America (we pretty much screwed the entire world with our irresponsible financial scheming), but everyone has been very nice about it so far. There was one girl who was convinced we live in a Communist-China-esque state of isolationism and censorship (“They just feed them information!” she proclaimed passionately in our International Organizations class), but we explained to her that we do actually have internet access, and that not everyone subscribes blindly to Fox News, so hopefully this rather unflattering idea has been duly corrected.
Everyone on campus has been very friendly and I’ve had a great time meeting new friends. I had hoped to make lots of Egyptian friends and expected to make many American ones, but a large number of my recent acquaintances are coming from somewhere entirely unexpected:
Norway!
There are a small number of Norwegians on campus – nine, I believe? or 11? something around there – and at this point I’ve met just about all of them. How did I get adopted into the Norwegian camp, you ask? Well it’s all because of my Islamist Movements class, really. The first day, I left class with this nice blond girl who had been sitting in the same row as me. I had noticed her because – actually – I thought that she might be Norwegian, and I love Norwegians! When I was in Tunisia one of my sisters was an exchange student from Norway, and this girl in class had that certain Norwegian look to her, just like Stine (my sister) had. So imagine my delight when I found out she actually WAS from Norway!
Anyway, her name is Trude (pronounced Trrrrruda) and she’s absolutely lovely, and really very fascinating. She worked in Lebanon for a time as a Red Cross aid worker and is studying at AUC for (I believe) two and a half years, insha allah. She’s taught me all sorts of things about Norway – about the government, the economy, the history, the geography – and I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s just about the best little country in the whole wide world. I’ve fallen in love! I think I’ll be applying for my citizenship before the year’s up.
I’m terribly nervous now though, because tonight is the election for the new Prime Minister and parliament. We’re rooting for the incumbents, the Red party, which is the Socialist party and the current majority. Their opponents, the Blue party, have been putting up a fierce fight though. But we don’t like them. The Blue party wants to cut off immigration, do away with the government agency that distributed loans to college students, and – worse of all! – they want to take money from the National Fund!
[The National Fund is an account where the Norwegian government has deposited billions in profit from their oil sales. This way, when the oil runs out and Norway loses its main source of income, the economy won’t collapse. Future Norwegians will have this money saved up so that they can still survive even without oil. Ridiculously progressive, eh? I wish MY country thought a little more like that…]
The Blue Party also has a reputation for being homophobic, racist, and prejudice in general, so we REALLY don’t like them. Election results are supposed to come out at 1 am, and I can’t wait to see who wins! I’ve instructed Trude to call me or text me so I know what happens.
So yeah. That’s me becoming Norwegian.
Now, I unfortunately have something unpleasant to document. I don’t like to dwell on negatives but I feel like it needs to be included. Basically, the unpleasant thing is this: I had my first experience with sexual harassment today.
Like every other woman who ever travels to the Middle East, I of course heard all the horror stories and received all the warnings before I came. However, up until now I really haven’t had much of a problem. The fact of the matter is, though, that Cory arrived on his visit just a few days after I moved in, and stayed for over a week, and I think it’s truer than I realized that men won’t touch a woman if she’s with another man. Now that I’m by myself I guess I’m fair game.
Either way, I was walking to the bus, probably a ten minute walk along fairly busy roads. I do this walk every day, no big deal. It was around 9:30 in the morning. I was walking behind this kid who looked to be about 15 years old – tall and gangly and scrawny, a pretty unfortunate looking child. So I’m walking pretty fast, and as I’m getting closer to him I see him turn around and look at me and then sort of slow down and drop behind me as I pass him. And I’m walking by, when all of a sudden I feel his hand between my legs.
I’m not talking a friendly swat on the bum. I mean, between.
And when I look back, absolutely horrified, he’s already walking away – and he blows me a kiss.
I could have killed him. I swear to God, I could have. If I hadn’t been so shocked I honestly think I would have punched him then and there, in the middle of the road in Maadi. How dare some punk ass little 15-year-old do that to any woman?! And in the middle of the street, in broad daylight! It was absolutely disgusting.
The most frustrating part of this whole experience, though, is that there doesn’t seem to be anything we can do about it. The gender relations in this country are sickening. This is what you get when young men and women aren’t allowed to interact naturally with each other. The two sexes don’t understand each other at all, and thus the men behave like 10-year-olds.
Autumn and I were on the train the other night, and these two boys, probably around 16 or 17, were standing two feet away from us, openly staring and giggling like schoolgirls behind their hands. They would stare – whisper whisper – and giggle madly. It wasn’t funny though, is the thing – it’s not like it had some endearing, innocent quality to it. Their behavior and attitudes were blatantly inappropriate and sexually-charged. But it’s because of all the sexual repression that they behave like that!
It’s never good to generalize though. The majority of the young men I’ve met here have been wonderful, and in my three weeks this is the first problem I’ve had.
It’s just too bad there had to be a problem in the first place.
So that was undeniably unfortunate. Other than that everything has been going well though. It’s far too hot, which is another reason that I think I’ll have to move to Norway when I’m done with my stint here. I need to not sweat for a while.
An exciting thing: only three more days til our Eid break! We’ve got some five or six days off, and we’re determined to use them well, though we’re not quite sure of our plans yet. But it’ll be grand!
And insha allah, will not involve any groping.
I got a lovely email from my father today, in which he gently reminded me that I have been neglecting my poor blog for some time now. Too true, padre. So here I am, to update the world on all the going’s-on of the past week.
For the most part there hasn’t been too much to report. After much running around and groaning and planning and replanning my schedule finally ended up exactly how I wanted it, which is a miracle and a half. The final line-up (drumroll, please): that Islamist Movements class that I had been so excited about, in addition to Economics of Developing Nations, International Organizations, Comparative Politics, and a 3-credit Arabic class, as opposed to the 6-credit beast I had originally planned on taking. I sighed a little sigh to let it go, but it means that I can now take all the classes I need to take, and will even graduate on time when I return home.
And that was just a little too sweet to pass up.
My classes contain mostly Egyptians, which lends a very interesting perspective to the discussions. I’m always a little self-conscious about being from Big Bad America (we pretty much screwed the entire world with our irresponsible financial scheming), but everyone has been very nice about it so far. There was one girl who was convinced we live in a Communist-China-esque state of isolationism and censorship (“They just feed them information!” she proclaimed passionately in our International Organizations class), but we explained to her that we do actually have internet access, and that not everyone subscribes blindly to Fox News, so hopefully this rather unflattering idea has been duly corrected.
Everyone on campus has been very friendly and I’ve had a great time meeting new friends. I had hoped to make lots of Egyptian friends and expected to make many American ones, but a large number of my recent acquaintances are coming from somewhere entirely unexpected:
Norway!
There are a small number of Norwegians on campus – nine, I believe? or 11? something around there – and at this point I’ve met just about all of them. How did I get adopted into the Norwegian camp, you ask? Well it’s all because of my Islamist Movements class, really. The first day, I left class with this nice blond girl who had been sitting in the same row as me. I had noticed her because – actually – I thought that she might be Norwegian, and I love Norwegians! When I was in Tunisia one of my sisters was an exchange student from Norway, and this girl in class had that certain Norwegian look to her, just like Stine (my sister) had. So imagine my delight when I found out she actually WAS from Norway!
Anyway, her name is Trude (pronounced Trrrrruda) and she’s absolutely lovely, and really very fascinating. She worked in Lebanon for a time as a Red Cross aid worker and is studying at AUC for (I believe) two and a half years, insha allah. She’s taught me all sorts of things about Norway – about the government, the economy, the history, the geography – and I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s just about the best little country in the whole wide world. I’ve fallen in love! I think I’ll be applying for my citizenship before the year’s up.
I’m terribly nervous now though, because tonight is the election for the new Prime Minister and parliament. We’re rooting for the incumbents, the Red party, which is the Socialist party and the current majority. Their opponents, the Blue party, have been putting up a fierce fight though. But we don’t like them. The Blue party wants to cut off immigration, do away with the government agency that distributed loans to college students, and – worse of all! – they want to take money from the National Fund!
[The National Fund is an account where the Norwegian government has deposited billions in profit from their oil sales. This way, when the oil runs out and Norway loses its main source of income, the economy won’t collapse. Future Norwegians will have this money saved up so that they can still survive even without oil. Ridiculously progressive, eh? I wish MY country thought a little more like that…]
The Blue Party also has a reputation for being homophobic, racist, and prejudice in general, so we REALLY don’t like them. Election results are supposed to come out at 1 am, and I can’t wait to see who wins! I’ve instructed Trude to call me or text me so I know what happens.
So yeah. That’s me becoming Norwegian.
Now, I unfortunately have something unpleasant to document. I don’t like to dwell on negatives but I feel like it needs to be included. Basically, the unpleasant thing is this: I had my first experience with sexual harassment today.
Like every other woman who ever travels to the Middle East, I of course heard all the horror stories and received all the warnings before I came. However, up until now I really haven’t had much of a problem. The fact of the matter is, though, that Cory arrived on his visit just a few days after I moved in, and stayed for over a week, and I think it’s truer than I realized that men won’t touch a woman if she’s with another man. Now that I’m by myself I guess I’m fair game.
Either way, I was walking to the bus, probably a ten minute walk along fairly busy roads. I do this walk every day, no big deal. It was around 9:30 in the morning. I was walking behind this kid who looked to be about 15 years old – tall and gangly and scrawny, a pretty unfortunate looking child. So I’m walking pretty fast, and as I’m getting closer to him I see him turn around and look at me and then sort of slow down and drop behind me as I pass him. And I’m walking by, when all of a sudden I feel his hand between my legs.
I’m not talking a friendly swat on the bum. I mean, between.
And when I look back, absolutely horrified, he’s already walking away – and he blows me a kiss.
I could have killed him. I swear to God, I could have. If I hadn’t been so shocked I honestly think I would have punched him then and there, in the middle of the road in Maadi. How dare some punk ass little 15-year-old do that to any woman?! And in the middle of the street, in broad daylight! It was absolutely disgusting.
The most frustrating part of this whole experience, though, is that there doesn’t seem to be anything we can do about it. The gender relations in this country are sickening. This is what you get when young men and women aren’t allowed to interact naturally with each other. The two sexes don’t understand each other at all, and thus the men behave like 10-year-olds.
Autumn and I were on the train the other night, and these two boys, probably around 16 or 17, were standing two feet away from us, openly staring and giggling like schoolgirls behind their hands. They would stare – whisper whisper – and giggle madly. It wasn’t funny though, is the thing – it’s not like it had some endearing, innocent quality to it. Their behavior and attitudes were blatantly inappropriate and sexually-charged. But it’s because of all the sexual repression that they behave like that!
It’s never good to generalize though. The majority of the young men I’ve met here have been wonderful, and in my three weeks this is the first problem I’ve had.
It’s just too bad there had to be a problem in the first place.
So that was undeniably unfortunate. Other than that everything has been going well though. It’s far too hot, which is another reason that I think I’ll have to move to Norway when I’m done with my stint here. I need to not sweat for a while.
An exciting thing: only three more days til our Eid break! We’ve got some five or six days off, and we’re determined to use them well, though we’re not quite sure of our plans yet. But it’ll be grand!
And insha allah, will not involve any groping.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Alexandria, as promised
Wracked with guilt about the fact that poor Cory had been in Egypt for five days and seen little more than the apartment and the grocery store, we decided we could use a good field trip.
Our first field trip ended in semi-disaster. Going on the advice of friends, fellow travelers, and a very emphatic Lonely Planet Guide, we decided that we just HAD to see the Egyptian Museum. The Egyptian Museum is apparently one of the best museums in the world, though it comes by the reputation dishonestly: you can't help but be one of the best museums in the world when you're located in one of the most richly historical places in the world. The museum wins by default.
I say this because the museum itself is apparently awful, speaking from a conservation point of view. It's packed to the brim with all kinds of artifacts, and yet it can't even hold everything that it should. It's notorious for having countless priceless pieces jammed into storage or in the basement, and the running joke is that the artifacts need to be excavated AGAIN, because they've been in the basement for so long that they've sunk into the soft floor and have practically been reburied.
[NOTE: I call this the running joke, but it's actually literally true.]
Plans have been made for a big new museum, with climate control (something the present museum lacks - which I'm sure is also pretty terrible for the museum pieces) and all kinds of fancy-pants museum designs - but they are sorely underfunded and only tenuously commited to a 2012 finish date.
[Funny story: The present museum didn't even have a security system until a few years/decades ago. When they closed for the night, the last employee would lock the door and go home. However, one night a clever crook decided to hide out after close, and made off with loads of priceless artifacts. This gave them the impetus they needed to finally install an alarm system.]
But enough ragging on the museum. It may not be perfect, but it is still incredible, and better than having NONE of these artifacts on display. So Autumn, Tim, Cory, Andrew and I decided that we should pay it a much-deserved visit.
We didn't necessarily go about it in the best way possible though. Committed to our Cairo schedule, we got up at noon, per usual, and planned to leave the apartment around 1 o'clock.
A note for anyone who might ever be in Cairo during the summer: NEVER GO ANYWHERE AT ONE O'CLOCK. Don't do it. It is bad news. When we told people this story later all they could do was look at us disdainfully and ask, "One o'clock? Really guys?" See, from one to four o'clock is the hottest part of the Caireen day, and this day in particlar was even hotter than it had been. In addition to that, it's Ramadan, and although none of us are Muslim (and thus do not personally observe the fast) it's pretty much a dick thing to drink water in public, no matter how hot or thirsty you are. No one is going to fault you for it, but would you want to eat or drink in front of someone when you know they haven't had anything all day? I know I can't bring myself to do it. And all teh restaurants are closed so it's really hard to find food during the daylight hours.
Autumn, Cory and I, in our light, breezy apartment, had been sleeping through the hottest part of the day and only going out during the cool, comfortable night. We were blissfully unaware of the joys of Cairo midday. Thus we set out at 1 o'clock to head downtown and meet up with Tim and Andrew. We successfully, though sweatily, walked the 10 minutes to the train station; got on a stuffy, breathless train packed to the eaves with sweaty, smelly men; and suddenly realized that maybe this wasn't the best idea we had ever had.
We made it five stops before I realized I was going to faint.
I grabbed Autumn and Cory's hands and stumbled out of the car, and sat on the ground for a few minutes until my vision cleared and my ears stopped ringing. I was so embarrassed; I had been so excited about the museum and there I was ruining the trip. And I refused to let Autumn buy me water because it was Ramadan and I felt too guilty.
I would not give up! We would not go home! We had promised poor Cory that we would show him the sights, and yet we hadn't done anything worth mentioning in the four days or so he had been there. And I LOVE museums. I was so excited! And we only had three more stops to go! I took a deep breath and made them get back on the train with me.
It took one more sweaty, stifling stop before I called it quits.
Even if I got to the museum, I don't know that I would be able to enjoy it if I was unconscious.
At least I tried, right?
We decided to catch a taxi home, rather than try to get back the way we came, and the silver lining of this sad sad tale is that we bought a big juicy watermelon while wandering the streets searching for a ride. I was too miserable to necessarily appreciate it right away, but after I got back, drank a gallon of water, and lay down for two hours I was much more receptive.
In order to make up for this failed first outing, we decided to come up with a grander scheme, involving earlier hours and cooler temperatures.
Alexandria would be perfect.
Alexandria, or Scandria as it's called in Arabic, is a little city right on the edge of the Mediterranean, about a two and a half hour journey from the capital. It has an amazing history, far too complicated to recount here, but do yourselves a favor and Wiki it. Its recent history is similarly interesting: it was a den of sin in the 40's and 50's, filled with foreigners and brothels and drugs and French pleasure gardens, til Nasser kicked them all out and it slowly filled up with conservative Egyptians migrating in from the South. The result is a city that is far more conservative that Cairo, with a deliciously salacious past that it seems quite keen to forget.
History notwithstanding, the beaches are lovely and the air much cleaner than it is back home in Maadi.
Autumn has a friend whose boyfriend, Michael, is living in Alexandria, and she had been told that if she ever wanted to see the city she should call him and ask for a tour. So Wednesday night she called him, told him we wanted to come Friday morning, and he generously invited us to spend the night in his flat and head back to Cairo on Saturday.
Smart little Caireens that we now are, we got up at 8, left the house at 9, headed downtown and found a microbus headed for Scandria. It was surpsinigly easy - we popped around from driver to driver til we found the right van, and it only cost 22 pounds - about 4 dollars. Can you imagine taking a two and a half hour ride with Greyhound for that price? I think not!
Leaving the city was wonderful. We drove through some wonderful landscapes; rocky beige tracks of land that extended out and out to the sky, with every now and then a pinkish concrete building sprouting out like a dusty spacepod. Everything looks out of place in a world so flat. My favorite, though, was driving along an unassuming highway, nonchalantly observing the skyline, and suddenly realizing that you are seeing the pyramids shimmering in the distance through the dust.
You know. Just sittin there.
[We never got to the pyramids during this visit. Wandering Cairo in the summer heat was bad enough. Wandering out to the desert in August was just asking for it.]
Alexandria was beautiful and full of breezes. We attracted a lot more attention there than in Cairo; we got off the microbus a ways before our destination, and spent some time just wandering the streets. I think the people aren't so used to seeing foreigners off of the beach, just looking around. There was a lot to look at, though! The streets were decorated with lanterns and streamers in honor of Ramadan, and the buildings were beautiful; old and towering, a lot of them painted in pinks and creams, with bright peeling blue, yellow, green shutters. Check it out:
The streets were lined with the usual venders selling food and wares, and at one point we passed by a table literally teeming with bunnies.
"Bunnies!" Autumn exclaimed, and took a picture delightedly. "Let's buy a bunny! We should get a pet for the apartment!"
"Of course, Autumn," I said warily. "Pets..." Realizing she hadn't noticed the steaming grill set into the alcove behind said adorable bunnies, Cory and I, who didn't have the heart to crush her little vegetarian dreams, hurried her on. Unfortunately she figured it out later. Ah, loss of innocence.
We met up with Michael about an hour later, and found in him a kindred spirit and a remarkable tour guide. He knows the city of Alexandria like the back of his hand, and after making us a delicious Egyptian lunch in his beautiful flat he took us out to see the town.
Our first stop was at the catacombs, which were discovered in, I believe, the 1920's. An unfortunate donkey fell through the street, five stories to his unexpected and understandably unpleasant death - too bad for him, but how great for us history lovers! The twisting system of carved tunnels is filled with artwork that shows both Greek and ancient Egyptian influences, creating an interesting fusion of cultures. The stone panels depicting the gods are the best: they've got the bodies of Greek gods with Egyptian animal heads smushed on top.
After the catacombs we walked for a half hour or so, maybe more, til we came to the Corniche, on the Mediterranean. We got a good feel for the city on the way - saw some of the architecture, a lot of the people, some ancient Roman ruins, some imposing buildings left over from the hayday of colonialism. We even stopped at the intersection under which Alexander the Great is supposedly buried. Michael really was an incredible tour guide; I'm still amazed at his knowledge of Alexandria, and we soaked it up like appreciative sponges.
For dinner we stopped at one of his favorite fish places, down a dark little street lit primarily by strings of electric ramadan lights. They had the most amazing hommus I have ever had, along with baba ganouj and cucumber salad, and for our main course they sliced open a big old fish and cooked him with garlic and onion and pepper. It was SO good.
The fish actually reminds me of something. My radical weight-loss plan - i.e. Carolyn gets terrible traveler's sickness and cannot eat for weeks at a time - still has yet to come into play. I avoided questionable food for my first week or so, but I've been much more daring lately and I still feel just fine. I'm not complaining, I'm just amazed, because I got so sick in Tunisia I was sure it would happen here too! And of course, there's a chance that the sickness is still looming in the distance...but Egyptian food has treated me well so far, and for that I am thankful.
Except that I tried to bulk up a little before I left so that I would have some weight to lose, and it turns out it was all in vain. I guess I can't afford to gorge myself afterall. And I brought at least 10 boxes of pepto bismol with me, and I've only taken 4 tablets so far. What a waste!
So the fish was delicious, and did NOT make me sick, and we had some really good conversation over dinner. I decided that at some point before I leave I want to go out dressed in hijab, and see if people treat me differently. I told Michael about my plan to see what he thought, since he has lived in Egypt for two years and has a lot of knowledge about the culture here, and he thought it was an excellent idea. There are light-skinned Egyptians, and we both think that it would be an incredibly interesting social experiment. Being a foreigner unavoidably brings about different treatment, and carries with it certain streotypes, and makes people treat you a certain way. But what would it be like being Egyptian, and blending in with the crowds? How would men treat me, once the idea of Pamela Anderson and Paris Hilton was out of their heads? Especially if I was wearing the head scarf, I am sure it would be an entirely different experience. I think I would like to try it in Alexandria more than Cairo too, since Alexandria is more conservative. So I'm planning on giving it a try sometime in the next few weeks, and of course I will blog about it if I do.
After the fish place we went on a fun run of bars and cafes - to a hole-in-the-wall expat pub called the Spitfire run by three Egyptian Brothers who love to joke around with customers - to a fancy cafe right on the water that serves great sheesha while playing Whitney Houston and Celine Dion from speakers attached to palm trees - and finally back to Michael's flat, where we went to bed happy and exhausted.
We had to leave very early the next morning, to get Cory on his flight back to Syria. But we were proud that we had finally gone on an adventure, and it had been a wonderful one! Autumn and I are determined to go back to Alexandria as soon as we can, and to hopefully swim in that big beautiful ocean when we do.
Our first field trip ended in semi-disaster. Going on the advice of friends, fellow travelers, and a very emphatic Lonely Planet Guide, we decided that we just HAD to see the Egyptian Museum. The Egyptian Museum is apparently one of the best museums in the world, though it comes by the reputation dishonestly: you can't help but be one of the best museums in the world when you're located in one of the most richly historical places in the world. The museum wins by default.
I say this because the museum itself is apparently awful, speaking from a conservation point of view. It's packed to the brim with all kinds of artifacts, and yet it can't even hold everything that it should. It's notorious for having countless priceless pieces jammed into storage or in the basement, and the running joke is that the artifacts need to be excavated AGAIN, because they've been in the basement for so long that they've sunk into the soft floor and have practically been reburied.
[NOTE: I call this the running joke, but it's actually literally true.]
Plans have been made for a big new museum, with climate control (something the present museum lacks - which I'm sure is also pretty terrible for the museum pieces) and all kinds of fancy-pants museum designs - but they are sorely underfunded and only tenuously commited to a 2012 finish date.
[Funny story: The present museum didn't even have a security system until a few years/decades ago. When they closed for the night, the last employee would lock the door and go home. However, one night a clever crook decided to hide out after close, and made off with loads of priceless artifacts. This gave them the impetus they needed to finally install an alarm system.]
But enough ragging on the museum. It may not be perfect, but it is still incredible, and better than having NONE of these artifacts on display. So Autumn, Tim, Cory, Andrew and I decided that we should pay it a much-deserved visit.
We didn't necessarily go about it in the best way possible though. Committed to our Cairo schedule, we got up at noon, per usual, and planned to leave the apartment around 1 o'clock.
A note for anyone who might ever be in Cairo during the summer: NEVER GO ANYWHERE AT ONE O'CLOCK. Don't do it. It is bad news. When we told people this story later all they could do was look at us disdainfully and ask, "One o'clock? Really guys?" See, from one to four o'clock is the hottest part of the Caireen day, and this day in particlar was even hotter than it had been. In addition to that, it's Ramadan, and although none of us are Muslim (and thus do not personally observe the fast) it's pretty much a dick thing to drink water in public, no matter how hot or thirsty you are. No one is going to fault you for it, but would you want to eat or drink in front of someone when you know they haven't had anything all day? I know I can't bring myself to do it. And all teh restaurants are closed so it's really hard to find food during the daylight hours.
Autumn, Cory and I, in our light, breezy apartment, had been sleeping through the hottest part of the day and only going out during the cool, comfortable night. We were blissfully unaware of the joys of Cairo midday. Thus we set out at 1 o'clock to head downtown and meet up with Tim and Andrew. We successfully, though sweatily, walked the 10 minutes to the train station; got on a stuffy, breathless train packed to the eaves with sweaty, smelly men; and suddenly realized that maybe this wasn't the best idea we had ever had.
We made it five stops before I realized I was going to faint.
I grabbed Autumn and Cory's hands and stumbled out of the car, and sat on the ground for a few minutes until my vision cleared and my ears stopped ringing. I was so embarrassed; I had been so excited about the museum and there I was ruining the trip. And I refused to let Autumn buy me water because it was Ramadan and I felt too guilty.
I would not give up! We would not go home! We had promised poor Cory that we would show him the sights, and yet we hadn't done anything worth mentioning in the four days or so he had been there. And I LOVE museums. I was so excited! And we only had three more stops to go! I took a deep breath and made them get back on the train with me.
It took one more sweaty, stifling stop before I called it quits.
Even if I got to the museum, I don't know that I would be able to enjoy it if I was unconscious.
At least I tried, right?
We decided to catch a taxi home, rather than try to get back the way we came, and the silver lining of this sad sad tale is that we bought a big juicy watermelon while wandering the streets searching for a ride. I was too miserable to necessarily appreciate it right away, but after I got back, drank a gallon of water, and lay down for two hours I was much more receptive.
In order to make up for this failed first outing, we decided to come up with a grander scheme, involving earlier hours and cooler temperatures.
Alexandria would be perfect.
Alexandria, or Scandria as it's called in Arabic, is a little city right on the edge of the Mediterranean, about a two and a half hour journey from the capital. It has an amazing history, far too complicated to recount here, but do yourselves a favor and Wiki it. Its recent history is similarly interesting: it was a den of sin in the 40's and 50's, filled with foreigners and brothels and drugs and French pleasure gardens, til Nasser kicked them all out and it slowly filled up with conservative Egyptians migrating in from the South. The result is a city that is far more conservative that Cairo, with a deliciously salacious past that it seems quite keen to forget.
History notwithstanding, the beaches are lovely and the air much cleaner than it is back home in Maadi.
Autumn has a friend whose boyfriend, Michael, is living in Alexandria, and she had been told that if she ever wanted to see the city she should call him and ask for a tour. So Wednesday night she called him, told him we wanted to come Friday morning, and he generously invited us to spend the night in his flat and head back to Cairo on Saturday.
Smart little Caireens that we now are, we got up at 8, left the house at 9, headed downtown and found a microbus headed for Scandria. It was surpsinigly easy - we popped around from driver to driver til we found the right van, and it only cost 22 pounds - about 4 dollars. Can you imagine taking a two and a half hour ride with Greyhound for that price? I think not!
Leaving the city was wonderful. We drove through some wonderful landscapes; rocky beige tracks of land that extended out and out to the sky, with every now and then a pinkish concrete building sprouting out like a dusty spacepod. Everything looks out of place in a world so flat. My favorite, though, was driving along an unassuming highway, nonchalantly observing the skyline, and suddenly realizing that you are seeing the pyramids shimmering in the distance through the dust.
You know. Just sittin there.
[We never got to the pyramids during this visit. Wandering Cairo in the summer heat was bad enough. Wandering out to the desert in August was just asking for it.]
Alexandria was beautiful and full of breezes. We attracted a lot more attention there than in Cairo; we got off the microbus a ways before our destination, and spent some time just wandering the streets. I think the people aren't so used to seeing foreigners off of the beach, just looking around. There was a lot to look at, though! The streets were decorated with lanterns and streamers in honor of Ramadan, and the buildings were beautiful; old and towering, a lot of them painted in pinks and creams, with bright peeling blue, yellow, green shutters. Check it out:
The streets were lined with the usual venders selling food and wares, and at one point we passed by a table literally teeming with bunnies.
"Bunnies!" Autumn exclaimed, and took a picture delightedly. "Let's buy a bunny! We should get a pet for the apartment!"
"Of course, Autumn," I said warily. "Pets..." Realizing she hadn't noticed the steaming grill set into the alcove behind said adorable bunnies, Cory and I, who didn't have the heart to crush her little vegetarian dreams, hurried her on. Unfortunately she figured it out later. Ah, loss of innocence.
We met up with Michael about an hour later, and found in him a kindred spirit and a remarkable tour guide. He knows the city of Alexandria like the back of his hand, and after making us a delicious Egyptian lunch in his beautiful flat he took us out to see the town.
Our first stop was at the catacombs, which were discovered in, I believe, the 1920's. An unfortunate donkey fell through the street, five stories to his unexpected and understandably unpleasant death - too bad for him, but how great for us history lovers! The twisting system of carved tunnels is filled with artwork that shows both Greek and ancient Egyptian influences, creating an interesting fusion of cultures. The stone panels depicting the gods are the best: they've got the bodies of Greek gods with Egyptian animal heads smushed on top.After the catacombs we walked for a half hour or so, maybe more, til we came to the Corniche, on the Mediterranean. We got a good feel for the city on the way - saw some of the architecture, a lot of the people, some ancient Roman ruins, some imposing buildings left over from the hayday of colonialism. We even stopped at the intersection under which Alexander the Great is supposedly buried. Michael really was an incredible tour guide; I'm still amazed at his knowledge of Alexandria, and we soaked it up like appreciative sponges.
For dinner we stopped at one of his favorite fish places, down a dark little street lit primarily by strings of electric ramadan lights. They had the most amazing hommus I have ever had, along with baba ganouj and cucumber salad, and for our main course they sliced open a big old fish and cooked him with garlic and onion and pepper. It was SO good.
The fish actually reminds me of something. My radical weight-loss plan - i.e. Carolyn gets terrible traveler's sickness and cannot eat for weeks at a time - still has yet to come into play. I avoided questionable food for my first week or so, but I've been much more daring lately and I still feel just fine. I'm not complaining, I'm just amazed, because I got so sick in Tunisia I was sure it would happen here too! And of course, there's a chance that the sickness is still looming in the distance...but Egyptian food has treated me well so far, and for that I am thankful.
Except that I tried to bulk up a little before I left so that I would have some weight to lose, and it turns out it was all in vain. I guess I can't afford to gorge myself afterall. And I brought at least 10 boxes of pepto bismol with me, and I've only taken 4 tablets so far. What a waste!
So the fish was delicious, and did NOT make me sick, and we had some really good conversation over dinner. I decided that at some point before I leave I want to go out dressed in hijab, and see if people treat me differently. I told Michael about my plan to see what he thought, since he has lived in Egypt for two years and has a lot of knowledge about the culture here, and he thought it was an excellent idea. There are light-skinned Egyptians, and we both think that it would be an incredibly interesting social experiment. Being a foreigner unavoidably brings about different treatment, and carries with it certain streotypes, and makes people treat you a certain way. But what would it be like being Egyptian, and blending in with the crowds? How would men treat me, once the idea of Pamela Anderson and Paris Hilton was out of their heads? Especially if I was wearing the head scarf, I am sure it would be an entirely different experience. I think I would like to try it in Alexandria more than Cairo too, since Alexandria is more conservative. So I'm planning on giving it a try sometime in the next few weeks, and of course I will blog about it if I do.
After the fish place we went on a fun run of bars and cafes - to a hole-in-the-wall expat pub called the Spitfire run by three Egyptian Brothers who love to joke around with customers - to a fancy cafe right on the water that serves great sheesha while playing Whitney Houston and Celine Dion from speakers attached to palm trees - and finally back to Michael's flat, where we went to bed happy and exhausted.
We had to leave very early the next morning, to get Cory on his flight back to Syria. But we were proud that we had finally gone on an adventure, and it had been a wonderful one! Autumn and I are determined to go back to Alexandria as soon as we can, and to hopefully swim in that big beautiful ocean when we do.
So that was Alexandria.
An American (University) Girl
Well well. Here I am, sitting in the library of AUC, with a 6-hour break between my second class (Arabic 201) which ended at 2 pm, and my third class (Islamist Movements from Militancy to Power Sharing), which starts at 8 pm. Faced with such a daunting gap, but unwilling to make the 30 - 40 minute commute back to the apartment, only to return later, I visited some departments to see about drop/add issues, tried to momorize the layout of this very large and very confusing campus, and have now holed myself up in the library, to document the events of the very busy past few days.
To begin with, though, a word about AUC.
American University in Cairo recently finished the construction of its new campus.
It is not in Cairo.
It is in the middle of the desert.
In order to get to this new location - in the middle of the desert - the University runs several buses at theoretically convenient hours from a multitude of theoretically convenient locations. I say theoretically because it is convenient assuming that the bus shows up on time and shows up at the right place.
For example. Last night I checked the new Ramadan schedule for the buses, and saw that there would be a bus leaving from Sakinaat al Maadi, the local train station, at 9:10 am. I had a class at 11, so I thought this would be perfect - get to campus by quarter to ten, have some time to walk around, check out the buildings, visit the bookstore, etc. However, from experience I already knew that the bus would not be coming to Sakinaat al Maadi at all. The bus would be stopping at a round-about some two minutes down the road from Sakinaat al-Maadi. The only way I knew this was because last week I waited for an hour and a half for the bus to arrive at Sakinaat al-Maadi, only to give up in despair and take a taxi with four other confused and desperate students who also just wanted to get to orientation. We later learned that the bus was just a few yards down the road - though, of course, around the corner and thus out of sight.
Having gotten over this speed bump I felt fairly confident about catching the bus this morning. Of course I was late - I tend to always run 10 to 15 minutes behind - but Egyptians usually run 15 - 60 minutes behind so I figured I would be fine as long as I walked briskly. I arrived slightly out of breath and knocked on the door of a big coach bus parked by the side of the clearing, and found that it was indeed the AUC bus. So I climbed on, and told the driver about how worried I had been that I would miss the bus - at which point he looked at me confusedly and said, "But why? The bus does not leave until 9:55."
That's when I realized I was only the second person aboard.
It could have been worse though! Turns out that other passenger was one of the students I had split the taxi with after the disastrous bus attempt last week! And unlike me, he had arrived at the stop a full hour and a half early. We were both glad for the company and spent the waiting period and subsequent ride in pleasant conversation.
New Campus may be in the middle of nowhere, but it is absolutely gorgeous. And imposing. The buildings are all in stripes of pink and tan and beige sandstone, and there are more fountains than you could shake a stick at. Lots of palm trees, too. Egypt also has this interesting way of making everything in it look ancient - there's so much dust that even this brand spankin new campus looks like it's been snuggled among the dunes for centuries. The layout is not so conducive to hot weather, though. A walk across campus involves crossing multiple large, open, stone places while the Egyptian sun beats mercilessly upon your poor skin. And although campus is scattered with little sitting areas - inviting little spots with palm trees and stone benches and more fountains and symetrical streams babbling by them - it's too beastly hot to enjoy them just yet.
Give it a month or two though, and this place will be heaven.
The best part, though: My sexy, sexy classes. My schedule is bursting with all sorts of juicy polisci courses - Islamist Movements from Militancy to Power Sharing, Economic Development, Modern Human Rights in Egypt - oh god, it's so good! My brain is drooling already (Wow, what a gross image...) But seriously, I don't even mind being here until 10:30, because the Islamist Movements class is going to be incredible insha allah.
Only four more hours to goooo...
Haha, but for now, I'll post this entry and then start a new one for my trip to Alexandria, which we returned from last night. At least this break means my blog will be getting the attention it deserves!
Prepare yourselves, dear readers.
To begin with, though, a word about AUC.
American University in Cairo recently finished the construction of its new campus.
It is not in Cairo.
It is in the middle of the desert.
In order to get to this new location - in the middle of the desert - the University runs several buses at theoretically convenient hours from a multitude of theoretically convenient locations. I say theoretically because it is convenient assuming that the bus shows up on time and shows up at the right place.
For example. Last night I checked the new Ramadan schedule for the buses, and saw that there would be a bus leaving from Sakinaat al Maadi, the local train station, at 9:10 am. I had a class at 11, so I thought this would be perfect - get to campus by quarter to ten, have some time to walk around, check out the buildings, visit the bookstore, etc. However, from experience I already knew that the bus would not be coming to Sakinaat al Maadi at all. The bus would be stopping at a round-about some two minutes down the road from Sakinaat al-Maadi. The only way I knew this was because last week I waited for an hour and a half for the bus to arrive at Sakinaat al-Maadi, only to give up in despair and take a taxi with four other confused and desperate students who also just wanted to get to orientation. We later learned that the bus was just a few yards down the road - though, of course, around the corner and thus out of sight.
Having gotten over this speed bump I felt fairly confident about catching the bus this morning. Of course I was late - I tend to always run 10 to 15 minutes behind - but Egyptians usually run 15 - 60 minutes behind so I figured I would be fine as long as I walked briskly. I arrived slightly out of breath and knocked on the door of a big coach bus parked by the side of the clearing, and found that it was indeed the AUC bus. So I climbed on, and told the driver about how worried I had been that I would miss the bus - at which point he looked at me confusedly and said, "But why? The bus does not leave until 9:55."
That's when I realized I was only the second person aboard.
It could have been worse though! Turns out that other passenger was one of the students I had split the taxi with after the disastrous bus attempt last week! And unlike me, he had arrived at the stop a full hour and a half early. We were both glad for the company and spent the waiting period and subsequent ride in pleasant conversation.
New Campus may be in the middle of nowhere, but it is absolutely gorgeous. And imposing. The buildings are all in stripes of pink and tan and beige sandstone, and there are more fountains than you could shake a stick at. Lots of palm trees, too. Egypt also has this interesting way of making everything in it look ancient - there's so much dust that even this brand spankin new campus looks like it's been snuggled among the dunes for centuries. The layout is not so conducive to hot weather, though. A walk across campus involves crossing multiple large, open, stone places while the Egyptian sun beats mercilessly upon your poor skin. And although campus is scattered with little sitting areas - inviting little spots with palm trees and stone benches and more fountains and symetrical streams babbling by them - it's too beastly hot to enjoy them just yet.
Give it a month or two though, and this place will be heaven.
The best part, though: My sexy, sexy classes. My schedule is bursting with all sorts of juicy polisci courses - Islamist Movements from Militancy to Power Sharing, Economic Development, Modern Human Rights in Egypt - oh god, it's so good! My brain is drooling already (Wow, what a gross image...) But seriously, I don't even mind being here until 10:30, because the Islamist Movements class is going to be incredible insha allah.
Only four more hours to goooo...
Haha, but for now, I'll post this entry and then start a new one for my trip to Alexandria, which we returned from last night. At least this break means my blog will be getting the attention it deserves!
Prepare yourselves, dear readers.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
from September 1st
I do believe there are cats in my hallway.
And angry cats at that! I had been warned not to leave trash bags containing food outside the door, because the cats get into them. Which means, I guess, that the cats are free to roam the building as they see fit.
Just as the rats are free to roam our kitchen as they see fit. I woke up at 3:30 this morning and went to the kitchen for a glass of water. And when I turned on the light, what do I see but I HUMONGOUS rat scampering from one corner of the kitchen to another! Who knew there were ROUS’s in Egypt? Now, I don’t generally mind things that are that much smaller and furrier than myself, but city rats are MEAN, and I’m sure Cairo rats have attained a murderous bravado that would put even New York rodents to shame. It’s a tough life here. So I figure my best bet is this: name the rat, accept that this is now his flat, too, and try not to put my toes too far under the counter when cooking.
Or have the doormen kill him. That might be better.
Either way, all I can do is shrug my shoulders and laugh a little. It’s a crazy life but I’m growing to love it.
Besides, I was getting too prissy back home. Early morning cat fights and rats the size of corgis might be just what I need to shake me out of my complacency.
p.s. It’s September 1st! Can you even believe it?
And angry cats at that! I had been warned not to leave trash bags containing food outside the door, because the cats get into them. Which means, I guess, that the cats are free to roam the building as they see fit.
Just as the rats are free to roam our kitchen as they see fit. I woke up at 3:30 this morning and went to the kitchen for a glass of water. And when I turned on the light, what do I see but I HUMONGOUS rat scampering from one corner of the kitchen to another! Who knew there were ROUS’s in Egypt? Now, I don’t generally mind things that are that much smaller and furrier than myself, but city rats are MEAN, and I’m sure Cairo rats have attained a murderous bravado that would put even New York rodents to shame. It’s a tough life here. So I figure my best bet is this: name the rat, accept that this is now his flat, too, and try not to put my toes too far under the counter when cooking.
Or have the doormen kill him. That might be better.
Either way, all I can do is shrug my shoulders and laugh a little. It’s a crazy life but I’m growing to love it.
Besides, I was getting too prissy back home. Early morning cat fights and rats the size of corgis might be just what I need to shake me out of my complacency.
p.s. It’s September 1st! Can you even believe it?
from August 30th
“I think I’m adjusting to this
Ah, it’s true! I can’t stop saying it: the
Yesterday we stayed in bed til 5 pm.
The thing is, the city is most alive after Iftar, so you don’t really miss much sleeping til the late afternoon. All of the stores are open til morning; if restaurants are open for Ramadan they’re only going to be busy after evening; same for cafes and such. So we’re all turning into night owls, and the girl who used to be an old woman who loved to go to bed at 10 pm has suddenly become nocturnal.
To celebrate Cory’s arrival we went with Nicole and our friend Rami to an outdoor café called Harawi, in the Al-Azhar neighborhood. It’s a really interesting part of town. The Al-Azhar mosque is just a few streets away, and although we haven’t had a chance to see it up close yet it’s something I’ll have to experience soon. Al-Azhar is the oldest mosque in
Harawi was unbelievably crowded because of Ramadan, but the sheesha was good and the ahwa (coffee) was decent. We spent the time fighting for the waiter’s attention and swapping Arabic phrases; making comparisons between fas-ha (academic Arabic), Egyptian 3miya, and Syrian 3miya, which Cory has been learning a lot of in the past few months. We went home fairly early – 1 or 2, if I remember correctly – ordered a pizza, and went to sleep around 6 am.
As I said, the next day started around 5:30 pm. Which I realize it a little excessive. I’ve started setting an alarm now. Granted, it’s for 12:30 pm…but hey, it’s better than nothing.
When we finally got up we were told by Nicole that Rami had a surprise for us; he would be arriving around 8 or 9 and we would jet off to our mystery destination. In the interim we did some grocery shopping – which has become one of my favorite hobbies / social activities. Because there are so many shops conveniently close to our apartment, we generally do our shopping on a day-to-day or every-other-day basis; so we see the same employees a lot. It’s gotten to the point where the owner of the grocery store now recognizes us, and whenever we come in he greets us and treats us just like old friends! For such a huge city, it’s easy for
Now, as for the surprise. Rami showed up around 8:30, when we were still puttering around and putting away our groceries, and informed us that we were late. We didn’t know the surprise had a deadline! So we got ourselves together and piled into a taxi, and sped off for the unknown.
We drove for maybe 15 minutes, flying down dark dusty highway, with Nicole guessing all the while what was up Rami’s sleeve. His determination not to spill was impressive; he withstood all attempts at tricking it out of him and just smiled when we asked what he was planning.
Finally the taxi pulled over to the side of the highway, and we realized where we were: The Citadel. The Citadel is an ancient fortress, located high on a spur of limestone overlooking
History notwithstanding, the Citadel was incredible. Not only is it rife with history and incredible architecture, it was decorated to the teeth for Ramadan. There were lights and lanterns and music and shows; even when we pulled up we were greeted by a troup of whirling folkloric dancers, spinning great circular swathes of fabric above their heads.
We wandered the twisting streets within the citadel for a while, Rami hurrying us on the whole time and trying to figure out where we were supposed to be, til finally we reached the hige interior space. It was filled with people, and vendors, and various performances going on all over; we stopped for a moment to gape at a puppet show and watch puppies and princesses dancing to what sounded to me like Egyptian techno.
That part was strange.
But finally we found where we were meant to be, and with a victorious sigh Rami led us to some seats to the left of a raised stage; and finally informed us of the reason for our visit.
“Wust el-Balad is playing,” he said triumphantly. “For free.”
Wust el-Balad, translated as “Downtown,” is one of the most popular bands in
Turns out we actually arrived a little early; there traditional music from Upper Egypt (which is actually Southern Egypt; they call it Upper because the Nile flows North, so it’s on the upper part of the
And it was great! Wust el-Balad is now one of my favorite bands as well. They had that distinctive Egyptian feel, but they mixed it with all kinds of different musical styles; most unexpected, and most enjoyable, Spanish Calipso music. At times they reminded me of one of my favorite Brazilian bands, Little Joy. And the excitement of the crowd was contagious; people were dancing and swaying to the music, calling out requests for favorite songs and singing along word for word.
For the trip home, we decided to indulge in one of the quintessential Egyptian experiences: the microbus. Microbuses are these teeny tiny utility vans (all the vehicles in
Of course, it’s still a mystery to me HOW to know where they’re going. We took a taxi to some seemingly random, entirely unmarked highway underpass and waited by this seemingly random, entirely unmarked concrete wall which Rami assured us was the waiting line for Maadi. And sure enough, a little microbus arrived and we piled on. I had Nicole in my lap and my elbow out the window as we careened down the road at breakneak speeds, and when the driver asked we all handed him 5 pounds (a little less than a dollar) and when we asked he pulled over to the side of the highway and slowed to a roll as Cory, Nicole and I scrambled out. Rami stayed on so he could head home, and we waved a hasty goodbye and called a hasty thank you, and hailed a taxi to take us the rest of the way home.
I’ve been humming Wust el-Balad ever since.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Oh dear!
It hasn't even been a week, and I'm already slacking on my posting. I have a slew of half-finished entries that I just need to paste into here, so I'm going to try and do it this morning, before we head out for the Egyptian Museum; which, according to Lonely Planet and everyone and their mother, is incredible. More on that later.
For now, I'll just post what I've been meaning to post, and put the appropriate date in the title heading.
Also, by popular demand I feel I should clear something up: when you see a "3" in a word, such as "3miya," it stands for this weird, throaty "a" that exists in the Arabic language. It's sort of a gargly, throat-constricting noise, very strange when you first hear it, very beautiful once you become accustomed to it, and unbelievably satisfying once you learn how to pronounce it yourself. One of the proudest moments of my life was a year and a half ago in Tunisia, when I was talking with my Arabic professor, Khalil, and said some word with an "3" in it. He looked at me admiringly, and exclaimed, "ya Carolyn...you have a beautiful 3!"
It was one of the proudest moments of my Arabic life.
For the sake of convenience, "3miya" can be pronounced "amiya." But for the sake of accuracy, and out of my deep-abiding love for the "3," I figured I would write it properly :)
For now, I'll just post what I've been meaning to post, and put the appropriate date in the title heading.
Also, by popular demand I feel I should clear something up: when you see a "3" in a word, such as "3miya," it stands for this weird, throaty "a" that exists in the Arabic language. It's sort of a gargly, throat-constricting noise, very strange when you first hear it, very beautiful once you become accustomed to it, and unbelievably satisfying once you learn how to pronounce it yourself. One of the proudest moments of my life was a year and a half ago in Tunisia, when I was talking with my Arabic professor, Khalil, and said some word with an "3" in it. He looked at me admiringly, and exclaimed, "ya Carolyn...you have a beautiful 3!"
It was one of the proudest moments of my Arabic life.
For the sake of convenience, "3miya" can be pronounced "amiya." But for the sake of accuracy, and out of my deep-abiding love for the "3," I figured I would write it properly :)
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