all things go, all things go

Well everyone, this is it: the farewell post. I wanted to take this time to write some things that I love -- and am going to miss -- about Egypt, and the Middle East in general. Here they are, in no particular order.

1. Street food. Many people complain about the food in Egypt, but I don't agree. True, it's far from gourmet; if that's what you wanted, you'd be better off in Morocco or Lebanon. But for cheap, delicious, and occasionally greasy local street food on the go, you can't beat Egypt. My favorites: tall glass of mango or guava juice, or banana with milk (sounds weird, but it is so good!), or as'hab, a juice made of sugar cane; fuul, aka stewed fava beans with tahina and salad and sometimes hot peppers, especially from Mah'roos, aka Biblical fuul, aka the fuul place in Garden City; koshari, the classic Egyptian vegetarian peasant dish made from rice, noodles, chick peas, fried onions, lentils, spicy red sauce and some of that garlicky/vinegary stuff on top; fiteer, a kind of fried dough eaten with honey as a dessert or with veggies and cheese or meat as a meal; and of course fatta, which is rice, fried pieces of bread, chicken schwarma, and taamayya (garlic sauce) on top. So good. All of it. Now I just have to find a decent Egyptian restaurant in New York.

2. The call to prayer. When it comes to speaking Arabic in Cairo, Egyptian Ameyya has been much more useful to me than the classic fus'ha I learned at Northwestern. But there is something so beautiful about classical Arabic: when it's written, I love the calligraphy, the flowing script, whether its the inticate designs on Islamic buildings or sprawled across a store front or on the cover of a book. And I love the sound of it, the allahu akbar echoing around me five times a day, marking time and filling the streets and alleys. Hear it at 4 am? Stayed out too late. Hear it at 9 am? Woke up too early. Hear it at 6 pm? Time to start wrapping up work and head home. Though I am not going to be joining anyone at a mosque to pray, I really like hearing the call to prayer sound around me; it reminds me that this city, my home, is filled with people coming together to share something special every day.

3. Chilling. I don't think I can emphasize the relaxed, chilled out nature of this country. Egyptians have a flexible concept of time, and are often late; I respond well to this. Everything is late: buses, scheduled performances, parties, people. I don't think I could live in a country where everyone places such a high premium on time. Everyone is very relaxed about everything; one of my favorite Egyptian words is malesh, meaning: it's OK, no worries. Bus is late? Malesh. Air conditioner broken? Malesh. I seem to be locked out of my house? Malesh! And one of the things I have learned to do here is stop worrying about time so much. I am not usually in a rush, and it's been pretty great. It makes some people anxious, and I will admit that I have moments of wishing things could run more efficiently. But it's worth it for the laid-back atmosphere all around the country. I have chilled all over Egypt: by the Red Sea, by the Mediterrean Sea, in Upper Egypt, on the Nile, in several types of desert, in Siwa, in tents, in Mosques, with Bedouins, and more. In Basata, I took off my watch for four days, and it was heaven. The most popular set-up I see in Egypt is incredibly conducive to chilling: mats and rugs and oversized pillows on the floor, a long, low table, some shishas and trays of tea, all shoes left by the entrance. You can lay out, you can lay back, you can nap or read a book or play a game of tawla/shataranj, you can forget that you were ever supposed to be doing anything else. And if you're late to whatever you were supposed to be doing next? Malesh.

4. Cairo, in all its faded glory. (Get ready, this is a long one!) In the days before Nasser took over, Cairo was a international city. There were gilded buildings and chic pastry shops, and a dignified sort of feeling to the city. Now, many of the streets have been renamed and the facades are cracked and all that grandeur has begun to crumble. Going to have a beer on the rooftop of the Odean, or passing by Groppi's in downtown, or sitting in of the Farouk-era, Victorian-style chairs in my apartment: these are reminders and relics of a more glamorous time. It's true that Cairo is not a beautiful city. But it's intriguing and interesting, and never boring.

I love the Nile, especially at night. During the day you can see the garbage washing up along the shore if you look too closely, but at night it whispers past, just a few buildings away from my Zamalek apartment. In Upper Egypt, down in Aswan, you can take a small boat back and forth across the Nile, where it's wide and quiet and sparkling blue. For three days on the Nile cruise, you can gaze off the side and see quiet fishing villages on either side, and animals, and it's beautiful. But my favorite thing of all is to get on a felluca with a group of friends, whether it's three people or twenty, and just sail and talk and chill. Some of the best conversations I've had in Egypt have been contemplative ones on the Nile. I love, whether sailing or walking along the corniche or on someone's balcony, to watch the Nile at night, gently reflecting the neon lights of the billboards and hotels, silently and eternally flowing north to the Mediterranean.

I love the minarets of mosques piercing the skyline, I love walking in the streets because there are no sidewalks (or because the sidewalks are not passable), I love the way things are built on other things so that in the same city there can be a building from medieval times across the square from an Ottoman one, I love the noise and chaos and energy of the city. They say New York is the city that never sleeps; in Madrid, they said "Ellos que dicen que Nueva York es la ciudad que nunque duerma no conocen los madrilenos" (those who say New York is the city that never sleeps don't know people from Madrid), and now I can safely say that Cairo is truly a city that functions on its own inner clock and rhythm. Everything is open past midnight, everything delivers, it is not unusual to find traffic even when it's 3 am, and the streets are crowded no matter the hour. When I first got here I considered it is the most overwhelming place I have ever lived, and now that assault on the senses is both familiar and welcome; I would not have it any other way.

5. The people. I don't even know how to put into words exactly how awesomely amazing the people I have met here are. They are from all over the world, they speak a dozen different languages, they are fun and silly and fascinating. They shared their cultures and opened their homes; they have opened my mind, as I can only hope I have opened theirs. Some I saw every day, some only once a month, but I always felt welcomed and supported. They are my Cairo family, they are such a big part of what made my year so great, and I will miss them more than I can say.

Cairo is not a perfect place, and neither is Egypt. But I'd rather think about the things I love instead of dwelling on the negative. So with that, I will say goodbye to you. I hope you enjoyed reading about my life in Egypt this year as much as I enjoyed writing. Thanks!

orientalist architecture

My farewell post is coming soon, I promise. But first: some photos of one of my favorite neighborhoods in Cairo. Islamic Cairo has many beautiful mosques, which I find so innately peaceful. You take off your shoes, women make sure their hair is covered, find a spare bit of carpet and enjoy the quiet. I like the beautiful vaulted ceilings and striped arches and the minarets you can usually visit if you provide a little baksheesh (tip/bribe).

It's the way I had always pictured the Middle East.

At Al-Azhar Mosque, one of the most famous in the Middle East. It also has a school attached, Al-Azhar University, which is one of the oldest universities in the world.

A view of the Citadel and Mohammed Ali Mosque from an Al-Azhar minaret. Everything in the middle is part of Islamic Cairo.

The Al-Ghoury Mosque, school and tomb in Islamic Cairo. It's very centrally located near Khan al-Khalili, and is one of my favorites since it's really beautiful inside.

Stained glass windows in the Al-Ghoury Mosque.

Me in the mosque. Note the gorgeous arches...sigh.

Climbing a minaret! This is where the muezzin come to sound the call to prayer.

This is in the Mouayyid Mosque down by Bab Zuweila. To those who have never been in a mosque, the indented area on the left is called a mihrab, and it indicates the direction of Mecca (i.e., the direction in which one should pray). The stairs on the right is where the Imam will go on Fridays to deliver the sermon.

Bab Zuweila, one of the oldest gates that was an entrance to Old Cairo. These minarets you can climb normally with a legitimate ticket, but really, where's the fun in that?

moving day again

The contract on my apartment was up yesterday (July 1), so that means the last few days have been a blur of packing and moving. I am now relocated to a few floors below me, staying with some friends (actually, many friends: several other guests in addition to me mean that there are currently six people staying in three bedrooms and on a couch).

Leaving the apartment was a little bittersweet. I know my landlord (well, I suppose he is more like the manager, but he is the one who collects the rent and who I deal with), Mr. Adil, likes me because I speak Arabic and am nicer to him than other roommates who shall remain nameless (or, in this case, initial-less). He calls me "Miss Leeza" and said he was sad I was leaving (I said I was sad as well...even leaving the landlord is hard!). We kept the apartment in good shape (and with considerably more stuff than it came with), and he told me that he would keep the rent at the same level if we wanted to stay (we can't), or if we knew someone else who wanted the place (we don't). When he came to collect the keys, he was teasing us and joking. Initially he said to me "enti mushkila" (you're a problem), and when I got mock-offended he smiled and said, "la', ana araf. Naas kwayyesin, naas kwayyesin." ("No, I know. Good people, good people.") Saying someone is from good people is a very high compliment in Egypt, so that made me really happy. the building I live in is famous for having lots of foreigners and some people feel it is not an "authentic" Egyptian experience, but I have really enjoyed living there.

Packing was interesting: I have been trying to avoid needing to ship a package home, and luckily I was able to ditch some stuff here. I am donating some things to a local refugee service in Cairo (serving mostly Sudanese, Somali, Ethiopian and Iraqi refugees, I believe), and threw away some other things. Let's just say that Cairo's dusty streets, a lack of paved sidewalks and many other things have conspired to kill all but 1 1/2 pairs of my jeans, and nearly all my shoes. I get a pedicure, and by the end of the week my feet are gross again. Suffice it to say that some things were not even worth donating. So I have one large suitcase containing winter clothing, sweatshirts and other items I will not be needing in the next three weeks, and I intend to leave it closed and ready to go. The other one I am living out of, in addition to a duffel bag that I can use for travel. Hopefully this foresight will also make it easier (and faster) to actually pack when it is time for me to leave in three weeks.

Today was my last day of work. I have been saying goodbye to people this week, and although I am looking forward to the traveling I am doing in the next few weeks, I am still sad to leave. I helped select my replacement and feel that I am leaving the magazine I edit in good hands, and I guess that helps, but not a lot. I have begun applying for jobs back in the US already, and am hoping to at least have a few interviews lined up for when I go back. In the meantime, I guess this means that, freelance work aside, I am temporarily unemployed as of 6 pm tonight. Uh-oh!

bahrain costs just 90 LE

Last night at my friend L's house, I played a game of Bank el-Haz, the Egyptian version of Monopoly (haz means luck). Instead of purchasing properties named after streets in Atlantic City, you can buy countries and cities in the Middle East -- Damascus, Cairo, Jerusalem, Casablanca, Beirut, Riyadh, Oman, Algeria, etc.

But the game is a Nasser-era relic from what we guess to be the early 1970s, which means that the UAE (including Abu Dhabi, Dubai, etc.) is non-existant, and other Gulfie states, like Bahrain, are the cheapie properties available at just 90 LE (in current prices that comes to a whopping total of about $18. Qatar was also a steal at around 150 LE). It also means that at the time the game was made, there were very close ties between Egypt and Syria, so all the most expensive properties were in those two countries -- Cairo, Damascus, Alexandria and Aleppo in the first tier, followed by other locales in Egypt like Aswan, Luxor and Port Said.

The principles of the game were similar to Monopoly: purchase or trade for a monopoly, then build on it, etc. Instead of houses and hotels there were rest houses and markets, but it's the same idea. There's a banker and a jail and GO, and even chance cards, etc. Everything is in Arabic, so it was slow going for me whenever I needed to translate one of the chance cards, but overall it was a lot of fun. It was definitely a simplified version of Monopoly, but for the novelty it was pretty great. I think next week we will go back to Scrabble.

adventures in baking

This weekend is the Jewish holiday of Shavuot, and one of the traditions of this particular holiday is the eating of dairy foods, especially cheese blintzes and cheesecake. Another Jewish friend of mine, SK (I can't even remember how many S friends I have written about on the blog or which numbers are which ones, so I am just going with initials at this point), is a good baker and asked if I wanted to help make a cheesecake for Shavuot, which I absolutely did.

Now, I will just say that with proper planning and foresight, we probably could have obtained most of the items we needed to make a proper cheesecake. But we did not do this. Instead, we decided at 3 pm yesterday (Wednesday) to make a cheesecake, both worked late, and finally met up around 10 pm in Maadi to start cooking. A supermarket chain called Alfa Market usually has imported foods, like cream cheese (the main ingredient in most cheesecakes, by the way), but there are none by SK's house and I didn't think to check the one by me on my way to Maadi. So instead we went to a local market by her house, where they had several varieties of Egyptian "cream" cheeses, none of which were actual cream cheese. Let's just say we improvised on many ingredients.

Soon enough we were in the kitchen of SK's neighbor -- which was, by the way, the nicest kitchen I have seen yet in Egypt. He had a microwave! It was so nice and shiny... But I digress. Anyway, we opted for an Oreo cheesecake, though we had to go with Egyptian generic brand Borio (once we mashed them up you couldn't even tell the difference), which we put in the crust and also crumbled into the filling. No graham crackers, so we made a crust out of crumbled Borios and McVities Hob-Nob biscuits, plus flour/eggs/sugar/butter/baking powder, etc. While that was baking, we improvised a filling out of...many things. Our independent taste-tests confirmed that it tastes mostly like cheesecake (and vaguely looks like it too) and smells really good, but the consistency is not quite right. It is sitting in my fridge right now, doing some thinking (and some hardening, inshallah), and we will eat it tonight.

To my friends in Egypt: come have some! To friends and family reading at home: chag sameach!

life on hold

Last week, Mohamed Alaa, the 12-year-old grandson of Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak, passed away. While the death of a child is undoubtedly tragic, I have to see that I have never seen anything like the mandatory nation-wide mourning that ensued. Popular radio station Nile FM banished its stacks of pop tracks and played only Islamic tracts or somber music for about 24 hours. On Thursday night I showed up at Harry's Pub with a group of friends, only to be told that all karaoke had been suspended "out of respect" for the Mubarak family. It seemed excessive to me, but apparently it's a national tradition here for life to literally be put on hold.

This month I've been enjoying the EU Film Club, which has been screening movies from different countries at European cultural centers around the city since the beginning of May. They screen a different movie from a different country each night, with that host country providing some (free, occasionally alcoholic) refreshments before the (free) film, which is why I believe they are so popular. So far I have seen movies from Ireland (Once -- I love that movie!) and Austria, with plans to see Italy's entry today and Greece's later this week.

Anyway, as I guess you can tell, there aren't a lot of particularly exciting things happening around here. I mean, life continues as usual: work is going well, I feel like I am making good progress with my Arabic classes (my tutor says my reading is improving, which I believe is thanks to those children's books I bought), and friends are also good. As for the apartment, well...the Internet we finally arranged for never quite worked the way it was supposed to, and after three months of fighting with Mobinil, our provider, we are finally calling it a day and returning the modem. I am able to access other apartments' networks just fine, and though the connection isn't stellar it's better than no Internet at all. I can't believe what a struggle it has been to find reliable and consistent Internet in such a major city -- seriously, this is Cairo, not the middle of nowhere. Actually...

the problems with pigs

This weekend I went to an Egyptian hospital for the first time. Don't worry, nothing happened to me, but my friend H got sick so I went to visit him with some friends. As someone who has been fortunate enough to grow up with first-rate doctors and medical care, getting sick while abroad was definitely something I worried about. I got traveler's health insurance from STA travel before I left, but my line of thinking went something along the lines of...I hope I never EVER have to use this, because health care in the developing world is scary.

Turns out, not so much. Al-Salam Hospital in Mohandiseen is a very nice facility; obviously it's no Columbia-Presbyterian (where I spent some time both pre- and post-back surgery back in 2005) or anything, but it's clean and the rooms are pretty spacious. I have legitimate health care courtesy of my job (EgyCare, and it comes with a photo ID card and everything!), and although I still hope to never need to use it, the idea of being sick in Egypt is no longer as horrifying as it once was. I think a lot of people used to doctors and medicine in the US (or the West in general) worry about the standard of care in other countries, but I think that in such a major city like Cairo, there isn't really anything to worry about.

And on the topic of falling ill, swine flu panic has come to Egypt. The government is responding by deciding to slaughter all the pigs in Egypt -- about 350,000 of them. This is problematic for several reasons. The first is that it is now pretty well acknowledged that swine flu is spread by people, not actual swine, so killing them won't really accomplish anything. Of course, it's not like anyone here has actually caught swine flu (nor will they, because the percentage of the population who have enough money to travel somewhere they might catch it, like Mexico, is so miniscule), so it's not like there's even anything to spread. But no, the real problem is that the group most likely to be raising pigs is Egypt's Coptic Christian minority (about 8-10 percent of Egypt's total population of 80 million, depending on which statistics you're using), an already marginalized group who are the targets of a lot of hatred and discrimination.

A lot of people are saying that the decision to kill the pigs is not because the government is worried about the spread of swine flu, but because they want to make things even more difficult for the Copts. It's almost like the government is saying, this flu is a sign from god that eating pigs is wrong, and having them in our country is wrong, so we will get rid of them all. Farmers rely on the sale of those pigs for a big portion of their income, which now they won't get. Obviously there was already only a small market for pork products here (Muslims don't eat pork, same as Jews), and with the swine flu panic no one is really eating it at all now. There is already something of a Christian-Muslim divide in this country, and I would hate to see this make the whole situation worse.

sketchy bowling

I love bowling. I'm not very good at it, but I love the inherent tackiness and sketchiness of a bowling alley, everything from the questionable rental shoes to the pitchers of cheap beer. But the thing is, I often forget how much I like bowling until someone brings it up, and then I realize I really want to go. So I haven't been bowling in a really long time -- definitely not since I came to Cairo, and before then I can't even remember the last I went in Chicago.

But a friend told me about a bowling alley in Giza called Nile Bowling, and after going this weekend with four friends I am delighted to say that it was spectacularly sketchy. First, no bowling shoes necessary: you bowl in whatever footwear you have on, which in my case was a pair of flip-flops. Second was that in our lane, the bowling pins seemed to have some slight wobbling issues. Sometimes they just fell down of their own volition, even if a bowling ball was nowhere in sight, or the ball would roll into the gutter halfway down the lane and then the machine would give you credit for two pins down anyway (this actually happened to me on several occasions). Other times when you would go to bowl, the machine would just decline to acknowledge that roll, automatically reset, and randomly give the bowler extra frames. Ultimately, I bowled a 56, which might be a lifetime high for me without bumpers.

The whole point of this, though, is that after having been here so long, I expect things in Egypt to run inefficiently. That's part of the charm of Cairo, in my opinion. If we had gotten to the bowling alley and everything had worked properly, I think I actually would have been disappointed. Yes, people, it's come to that: my expectations are so low that I don't even need something to function to make me happy, I just need it to exist.

what should i do with my extra hour?

The great Cairo Museum Exploration continued this weekend when I went to the Museum of Islamic Ceramics on Saturday. Like most of the other museums I have been to here (besides the Egyptian Museum), it was empty. A2 and I were the only people there, and while you might think it would be creepy, I find it pretty cool to have a museum full of priceless antiquities all to yourself. There was no ticket booth or anything, but when we walked in the attendant came over and asked if we were tourists. We said we live in Cairo (fingers were crossed for the Egyptian ticket price instead of the foreigner one!), and were asked for proof. I used my EgyCare health insurance card, and we were ultimately given foreign student price (it's usually good for a 50 percent discount, and is second cheapest after actually being Egyptian). Great success!

Anyway, the museum is housed in a former mosque, and the mihrab is still in front and there are cool arches and stuff, plus some really beautiful stained glass windows and great Arabic calligraphy on the walls. My inner Orientalist was pleased. The museum mostly has dishes, tiles, pots, jugs, etc. from all over the Middle East and surrounding area -- Egypt, Syria, Turkey, Persia, Andalusia (Spain in pre-Ottoman times was called Al-Andaluz, though Andalusia now refers to the southern region of Spain). Some went as far back as the 9th and 10th centuries. There were also some more modern ones that were modeled on those artifacts, and those were nice also. It's amazing how many are in such great condition, and really beautiful with vibrant colors and intricate details. I really like a lot of the Islamic pottery because I think they don't look ancient; a lot of those jugs were more than 500 years old, but they look you could just pick one up and pour yourself a glass of water right right here in 2009. Cool stuff.

Also, I recently realized that we're still not back on Daylight Savings Time, when the rest of the world appears to be. I know America already switched "sprang forward," like a month ago, and figured we in Egypt were just biding our time. But apparently not. I have heard they might not have it this year, something to do with when Ramadan falls. Can they do this? Can an entire country just opt out of Daylight Savings Time? And if so, isn't there some weird cosmic imbalance because I get an extra hour this year (from when we "fell back" in September) that I apparently don't have to give back? And if that's true, I feel like I should be grateful, and should come up with something really amazing and awe-inspiring to do with that extra hour. Thoughts?

me: 1, airlines: 0

After lengthy fights with half a dozen airlines this week, I have emerged victorious. Things I had to do included:

1. re-booking my return flight to America while attempting to avoid re-paying for the flight (I win);
2.fighting with Orbitz for a refund on my trip to Israel after they rebooked me on a flight that would have caused to miss half the Seder (I win); and
3. re-booking myself on the return flights from Israel back to Cairo (win again).

I will now be going to Israel via seven-hour bus ride to Taba, but on the bright side at least it's all over and I am done fighting with various airlines and travel sites.

the future freaks me out

Firstly, a special blog shout-out to my amazing roommate Adrienne (previously referred to as A1) for getting into grad school. SAIS (school for international affairs at Johns Hopkins) is lucky to have her -- congrats!

Seeing my friends plan for their futures makes me think a lot about what's going to happen when I leave Egypt this summer. It's a challenge for sure, because I know that if I were to stay in Cairo with my journalism background I could have my pick of jobs, even in this rotten economy. In fact, I kind of already have received two informal offers, or at least had people express interest if I chose to stick around. But the problem is that if I accepted either of those jobs I would have to plan to commit to Cairo for another year or so, and I am pretty sure that's something I am not willing to do right now.

I have, as some of you know, been thinking a lot about law school. It's always been something I considered, though I pretty much put it on the back-burner in college to concentrate on journalism. Well, the journalism industry now...makes me really sad. That will be another post for another time. But suffice it to say that law school is looking better and better. Anyway, I have been thinking a lot recently about life post-Cairo (right now it's a pretty scary thought), and so that's kind of what those thoughts are looking like right now. But it's months away, so who knows!

Anyway, I realized I never really posted anything about last week either - sorry about that! I had a good weekend here. On Thursday night we went to a party at the American Embassy thrown by the U.S. Marines who work at/guard the embassy, this one a belated St. Patrick's Day party. We've gone to several of these parties before, and they're always a good time. Still no green beer, but at least we got to celebrate St. Patrick's Day a little. Otherwise, earlier in the week we went to a bar called After 8, where a man sang Irish folk songs for an hour before an Egyptian band called Wust el Balad took over. Although there was a huge bar fight at the end of the evening that night, and that felt very Irish. Overall, though, compared to festivities I have seen in Chicago, where the Chicago River is dyed green, Cairo seems pretty underrepresented when it comes to authentic Irish culture. And also actual Irish people.

Instead of a museum on Saturday, I went to the Ezbekiyya Gardens in Ataba, which contain a well-known book market. Though I currently have a good deal of reading material, I went just to browse. The offerings, though disorganized, are so much more diverse than what you would find at a regular used book store in America. In addition to your standard worn copies of American paperbacks (old copies of Stephen King, Jonathan Kellerman and other types of typical airport bookstore finds), there are Mickey Mouse comics in Arabic, ancient copies of travel guides to countries all over the world, stacks of back issues of some truly random magazines (hello, scary fashion trends in Cosmo circa 1991), and, obviously, many copies of the Qu'ran. These are all on display in about 100 stalls, so it's best to just go wander. I quite enjoyed it; as someone who has been a lifelong book lover, sometimes it's nice just to wander and browse.

leaving on a jet plane...or am i?

On this blog, I have previously complained about forms of transportation, like the microbus from Taba or the taxis in Cairo. But I still felt pretty good about planes, until this week. Last night (well, I suppose it was early morning, actually) I was attempting to book airfare to Israel for Passover. What a struggle.

I should note that figuring all of this out (below) took a few days, as I waited to hear back from various people and rearranged the days I was going to travel. I originally wanted to go on Tuesday night or Wednesday morning, but that didn't work out at all so I settled on Tuesday during the day (which means I need to take an extra day off work). Better to be there early than to miss the seder. Throughout this whole thing, I was speaking with my family in Israel to make sure someone was available to pick me up at the airport and that I will have a place to stay if I arrive a night early. I was also coordinating with two different travel agents, since some Web sites don't list flights to Israel, and others don't exist at all (Air Sinai, I'm looking at you). I was also e-mailing with my dad to keep my parents updated on the situation. So I was juggling many options at the same time. But of course, there were several problems.

First, no one flies from Cairo to Israel in the middle of the week, apparently. There is Air Sinai, Egypt Air's "secret" offshoot which has no Web site; there are flights to Israel but you need to book them through a travel agent or in person, and they only operates a few flights a week and none of them are when I wanted to go. There's El Al, which, in addition to only having a few flights each week, mostly on weekends, is also much more expensive than you'd think (though I suppose Passover is one of their busiest times, so maybe that's fair). I finally resorted to Royal Jordanian, where I could connect via Amman. It just seems to silly to need a connection for a flight that is under two hours. Comparison-wise, this is like having a flight from New York to Boston with a layover in Westchester. But RJ does fly to Israel every day, so that's fine, and I have flown the airline before and it's all good.

But of course, it can't be that easy. The RJ Web site makes it possible for a customer to book a flight from Tel Aviv to Cairo, but not from Cairo to Tel Aviv. Why? You've obviously got flights to Israel. Why not make it possible to book these flights? So I turned to Orbitz, where they are currently acknowledging the Cairo-Tel Aviv flights, but not at the proper times. It looked like my options were: pay about $1300 for a flight that connects through Germany or France (completely ridiculous), or have an overnight layover that would give me a sleepover in the Amman airport. I eventually chose the second option, but will try and go standby on an earlier flight. If that doesn't work, I will stay overnight in an airport hotel and be in Israel really freaking early on Wednesday morning.

Anyway, it's all settled now and I have airfare, and I am really looking forward to going to Israel for Passover. I am not sure if it's for the joke potential (it's Exodus, people! Leaving Egypt for Israel on Passover? Too perfect!), or because it's just been a while since I was last there (Jerusalem in November). In any event, Passover is pretty much my favorite Jewish holiday (yes, more than Hanukkah), and I am excited. To be on the lookout for plagues and attempt to part the Red Sea. Just kidding. I really am excited!

Still, Egypt and Israel are neighbors. I've crossed the land border and it's open and fine. There is peace now. So why is still so freaking hard to get from one country to the other?! I know, I know, you all want to give me world's littlest violin right now. If finding airfare is my biggest worry, I should count myself lucky. But you know what, it's still insanely frustrating. OK, I feel better now. Rant over.

at least they had bats

One of my New Year's resolutions this year was to get out and explore Cairo more. Every time I live abroad, I always get close to leaving wherever I am and realize there is still so much I want to do. So to avoid having that happen here, I decided to be more proactive about seeing Cairo. I have been doing something each weekend for the past few weeks, and this week decided to go to the Fish Gardens, located nearby in Zamalek. Despite the confusing title, the Fish Gardens is supposed to be a nice park near the Corniche on the Nile, as well as Cairo's aquarium.

It was the worst aquarium I have been to, ever. First, there were almost no fish. OK, there were two that were alive. The rest were dead and preserved in oversized test tubes. Not kidding. Basically, the park has a series of man-made caves that have aquariums set into the rock. Almost all of the aquariums were empty -- some had water but no fish, others had no water or fish. Some just had garbage at the bottom, leading N to remark that one particular tank must contain the "crumpled-up chip bag species" of fish. In fact, we found one tank with two large, ugly fish, and another with four turtles. That was it. Then at the end, we found that a number of the tanks contained oversized plastic test tubes with the perfectly preserved remains of the rest of the fish in the "aquarium." Some tanks had like 7-8 kinds of dead fish in them. It was really depressing.

The only bright spot here was that N heard the caves also had bats. Sure enough, standing in the middle of one of the larger, fish-less caves, we did hear the squeaking of many bats up above. Some of them swooped occasionally. We didn't stay too long because none of us wanted to get pooped on.

Luckily, the gardens part of the Fish Gardens was lovely. We brought along some books/magazines/newspapers and spent a nice afternoon sitting in the grass reading, napping, chatting, etc. It was an unusually warm winter weekend here (even in the midst of what everyone is calling the mildest winter in Cairo ever, thanks Global Warming!), so it was great to go out in t-shirts and sit in the sun for a bit.

There is a zoo in Giza that I would like to go to eventually (it's on my list of things to do), but after the disappointment of the Fish Gardens I think I should wait a while before attempting more animals.

what's in a name?

In America, my name is often mis-pronounced, but people eventually get it right. Elsewhere, I sometimes have to engage in preemptive name correction. In Spain, I knew the "z" in Aliza would be pronounced like a "th" thanks to the Spanish lisp. In Latin America (the accent I was used to at the time), it would be more of an "s" sound. In Spanish classes at Northwestern, I was usually called "Elisa" or "Alisa." So when I got to Madrid I just started introducing myself as Alisa to avoid being called Alitha. It was a good decision.

Since Arabic is not too far off from Hebrew, I thought getting my name right wouldn't be a problem, especially given that Aziza is a fairly popular name and it's only one letter off from mine. Well apparently, that letter makes a difference. For a while I would introduce myself and the other person would repeat back "Leeza?" But after months of correcting people, I give up. Now when Egyptians ask my name, I just say Leeza (like the talk show hostess). It makes my life easier.

And on the bright side, I have not been called Eliza since I got here, so I suppose it could always be worse.

and now for a weather report

I am in love with my space heater. It keeps my room warm and toasty and makes comforting noises and everyone is jealous. Winter in Cairo is not really so bad, especially compared to Chicago. On a good day I can still wear flip-flops, and on a windy day a fleece and scarf are a good idea. But no extra-puffy down jackets, no snow (not even any rain, so far), and definitely no below-zero temperatures (even in Celsius!).

The main problem I guess is that because the winters are mild, almost no buildings are heated. That might not seem like such a big deal, but it essentially means that the temperatures outside stays the same inside. So if it's a cold day (or more likely, a cold night), there isn't really anywhere to go and warm up. In Chicago it was freezing outside, but when you came inside it would be nice and warm and you could start shedding layers. But in Cairo, if it's cold outside then it's cold inside also. My apartment's large living room/dining room/reception area gets particularly chilly -- we have been wrapping ourselves in blankets while watching TV. And so that is why I love my space heater -- just when I think I can't escape the cold, I just crawl into bed directly in front of the heater. Glorious.

In other appliance news, A1 brought a George Foreman grill for us back from the US. Extremely exciting. I have made grilled cheese several times already. We still don't have a microwave, but small steps. We've survived without one until now, but who knows -- it could still happen.

the joys of egyptian bureaucracy, part 2

About five months ago, I braved the bureaucratic mess that is the Mugamma to secure myself a new visa to stay in Egypt. Well that visa expires this week, so I had to go back and renew it before leaving for Rome with my family. The first time I went, I had only been in Egypt a month. The visa excursion was a little intimidating and really overwhelming, with lots of shuffling between many windows and lots of forms. But this time I came armed with all the things I was supposed to (photos of myself, copies of passport, etc.), I knew which windows to go to and what to ask for, and the whole thing was pretty...painless. I brought my laptop and did some work from an internet cafe while I waited for my paperwork to be processed, and it was all very uneventful. Part of it is that I knew what to expect this time, so I wasn't really worried. Or maybe I am just that much more jaded now.

The only irony is that the first time I went, I requested a one-year visa, but they gave me one for six months and told me I would have to come back. This time I requested another six month one (since I am here until the end of June), but they gave me a one year one. Thanks, guys.

more freelance

Another freelance article I wrote is online. This one is for the same magazine, ICT Business, and it's about microfinance NGOs in Egypt. You can read it here.

By the way, the family has arrived. They have met some of my friends around Zamalek, and we lit Hanukkah candles last night with some other Jewish friends. All in all, a good Hanukkah so far.

it's beginning to look a lot like fake christmas

Holiday season is here, and we have already started celebrating here in Cairo. Last week before I left for Jordan, we celebrated Fake Christmas. A friend, M2 (M1 is my former flatmate), used to live in Cairo but now works in Abu Dhabi, and came back to Cairo to see people. To mark the occasion, she and another friend, I, decided to co-host an early Christmas party with holiday poppers, Secret Santa gifts, Christmas songs, champagne purchased at Duty Free, and a nice little tree. All hosted on a I's houseboat on the Nile, which was a great view. Hanukkah party will be this weekend, and I'm also excited for that.

View of the Nile on a cloudy day at twilight. Well, let's be realistic -- it's part dusk, part smog I would guess.

For those interested in what it's like to live as an expat abroad, here's an article written in a magazine for TCKs. A TCK, or third culture kid, is one who grows up in a culture outside their own or that of their parents, sometimes meaning in multiple countries. This article talks a bit about expat communities and culture, and Egypt is mentioned at the end. My life here is a bit different because I hang out with a younger crowd, not families, but it's still pretty interesting I think.

My other exciting news is that my roommate A2 was in an Egyptian commercial! Some of you may remember that back in August I accidentally auditioned for a commercial. Well, A2 went on another audition and booked the part. The commercial is for Etisalat, an Egyptian phone company. The ad, which is in Arabic, is below. You can catch A2 at the 15 second mark.

take that, winter

December 1st. I am wearing a t-shirt and flip-flops.

That is all.

ahli vs. zamalek

I work in the content room (like a newsroom) in my office, where there is a large TV. It is usually on to something quiet, like the news or a popular TV program.

But right now we are watching a football match, Ahli vs. Zamalek. Yes, I live in Zamalek. But no one really roots for them (they are the White Sox of Cairo football). Everyone is Cairo is an Ahli fan. EVERYONE. I was interested in going to a game, but apparently it is very...unpleasant for women and I have since reconsidered. So Ahli just scored a goal, 20 people are screaming right next to me, and I am probably not going to get any more work done today.

Considering going home early to read all the excellent Entertainment Weekly magazines I have just receieved in a package from my parents today. By the way: the package delivery man thinks it is hilarious that I get a package a month from America. We are on a first name basis now and he is totally my BFF. So send me mail! He will make sure it gets to me!