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?

when jesus was in egypt-land

Today I finally went to see Coptic Cairo, the oldest part of modern Cairo that contains the Coptic Museum, a number of churches, and the Ben Ezra Synagogue (entrance pictured above), which is the oldest in Egypt. Coptic Christians make up about 10 percent of Egypt's population of 80 million, but most of the Copts live in Middle Egypt. Anyway, the Coptic language is like a combination of Greek and ancient Egyptian, I think, and they are famous for their textiles and the monasteries, several of which are still in use today in places like Fayoum and Wadi Natroun.

First I went to the Coptic Museum, where they have recreated parts of monasteries and things like that. They also have complete garments that priests used to wear, as well as religious books from the 13th and 14th centuries. The oldest that they have, which is also actually one of the oldest books in existence, is a 1,600 year old (as in, from the year 400-ish) Book of Psalms in the Coptic language. I went in some of the churches, including the St. Sergius Church, which is where Jesus and family was said to have hidden out when they were passing through Egypt, and is probably the best-known church in the country. I also went into the Ben Ezra Synagogue, which was really cool. When repairs were being done on the building in the 18th (or maybe it was early 19th?) century, that's when they found the Cairo Geniza, which helped show a lot about the life of the Jews in Cairo and Egypt, including when the community was led by Rambam, a scholar also known as Maimonides (Rabbi Moses Ben Maimon = RMBM = Rambam). There were not supposed to be any photos allowed, but I gave the guard a little baksheesh (bribe/"tip") and he let me take some photos, sans flash of course. The synagogue is not in use anymore, but given that so few monuments remain to Egypt's Jews, it's nice to know that this one at least is being taken care of.

Also interesting, is that this is the first time in Cairo I have seen so many signs in Spanish as opposed to just French. Most guards, when addressing me, spoke to me in Spanish instead of Arabic (what I usually get) or English. I think it must be because lots of groups come from Spain and Latin America to see all the churches.

A plaque outside one of the churches...you can see what the Coptic language looks like on top, above the Arabic.

The outside of the Church of St. George, which people can't enter (but is one of the oldest in Cairo).

The inside of the synagogue. If you look, you can see the ten commandments above the ark, as well as the Stars of David. There was also a place to donate money for cemetary upkeep, one Torah on display, and menorahs that said "Zion" in the middle.

The outside of the Hanging Church, so called because it was built suspended over water (though it has been rebuilt since then I think).

The Hanging Church from the inside.

in which i get a visitor!

Big news of the week: I have a visitor! Marcy, who has spent the year teaching English in Madrid (another city I love), is visiting me in Cairo for five days before returning to America. It has been a welcome chance for me to revisit some tourist sites in Cairo, like the pyramids and Egyptian Museum, as well as Cairo staples like a felluca ride on the Nile and some shopping at Khan el-Khalili. She has done some exploring on her own, like in Coptic Cairo and in Zamalek, so I have just posted some photos (below!) of the things we did together. Enjoy!

In other news, last week I went with N to see an installment of the Refugee Film Festival. They had been asking for volunteers for the festival, but with my work hours it didn't work out. However, on the day we went we managed to see two films (with dinner in between). I much preferred the second one, which was about mistreatment of Sudanese refugees in Cairo, a problem that many Egyptians don't know anything about. I have friends who teach and/or work with refugees so I have heard about the issue before, but I still found the documentary to be really interesting.

Illicit inside-the-pyramid shot! That's Marcy on the left, rando tourist on the right, and the sarcophagus in the back. This was inside the middle pyramid.

It looks like they are re-painting the Egyptian museum. It seems pink-er than usual...

Green area in the Khan at night

More green area in the Khan at night.

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.

more thoughts on the speech

I know I have written about Egypt's Jews before. Just the same, I saw this article today and thought it was interesting -- and sad.

"Mr. Obama had harsh things to say to the Arab world about its treatment of women. And he said much about America’s debt to Islam. But he failed to remind the Egyptians in his audience that until 50 years ago a strong and vibrant Jewish community thrived in their midst. Or that many of Egypt’s finest hospitals and other institutions were founded and financed by Jews. It is a shame that he did not remind the Egyptians in the audience of this, because, in most cases — and especially among those younger than 50 — their memory banks have been conveniently expunged of deadweight and guilt. They have no recollections of Jews."

So true -- the people my age in Egypt have very little idea of what their country is missing. They know that their parents or grandparents used to have Jewish friends and spoke positively of them in many cases, but they have no idea about the cultural legacy they have lost.

the cairo speech

Obama was in Cairo Thursday to address the Muslim world from Cairo University, and though I was only able to watch the speech on CNN International just like everyone else, I wanted to share some thoughts anyway.

First, the atmosphere in the city all day (well, even all week leading up to this) was pretty interesting: there was a lot of anticipation for the speech, and Cairo got a pretty impressive sprucing up. Freshly painted bridges, redrawn traffic lanes on major roads, working street lights in the more bustling areas of the city, and an additional effort to get rid of the garbage normally clogging the city's few fractured sidewalks.

Every taxi I got in last week, when the driver figured out I was American (usually they assume Egyptian...until I start speaking Arabic with my very obvious accent), the first questions they would ask was whether I was excited about Obama, the speech, what did I think he would say, etc. Most Egyptians seemed to cautiously optimistic -- they felt that Obama was coming out on a limb by coming to Egypt and promising to address the Muslim world, and they hoped he would live up to their expectations. The fact that Obama was coming was all anyone could talk about -- and it was really refreshing for me to see how highly anticipated the leader of my country was in a place where, prior to November, invoking the name of the previous leader (Bush) led only to snide remarks and sneers of disapproval. (And yes, I am guilty of both snide remarks and sneers of disapproval when it comes to discussing Bush and his policies.)

Then there was the day of the speech itself. All schools were given the day off to curtail traffic and people in the streets, and many of my friends were given the day off from work. My gym was closed ("in honor of Obama's visit to Cairo" according to a sign), as were many other businesses. Mostly this was because everyone wanted to watch the speech (live at 1:15 pm), and also an attempt by the government to keep car and foot traffic to a minimum on the day of the speech. Cairo University, in Giza, was completely blocked off for blocks in all directions, making it completely impossible to come anywhere near the school. I had thought about going to see if there would be protesters or something, but it was pretty clear from photos I saw that there were nothing but hundreds of extra armed soldiers and a surprising dearth of cars.

Cairo has a huge traffic problem, going through all hours of the day and spread through most of the city (residential area at 11 pm? Traffic still sucks...), so there was something almost spooky about the quiet streets everywhere, kind of like that scene in Vanilla Sky where Tom Cruise runs through a completely empty Times Square. No honking, no exhaust, no traffic jams -- sorry, Obama, but that's not the real Cairo experience. Anyway, it turns out that this car-free effect was achieved by closing down entire roads for hours at a time, resulting in horrible traffic in other parts of the city. Most people stayed home or worked from home if possible (luckily, I was able to do that) to avoid the traffic and the excessive police (because really, why deal with that if you don't have to). But following the reactions people had to the speech, in person and online (I think I finally found the point of Twitter, people!) was very enjoyable and educational.

If you missed it, you can find the whole text of the speech here.

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...

obama is coming to egypt!

Obama has said he would deliver a speech from a Muslim capital in his first 100 days in office. It's a little after that by now, but I am extremely excited about his planned June 4 speech in Egypt. No confirmation on whether it will be in Cairo, but really -- where else would it be?

Anyway, I'm excited because I think having such a major speech in Egypt sends a positive message. Egypt is a moderate country in the Middle East (for whatever that's worth) and plays an important role in the region as a moderator (i.e. between Israel and the Palestinians). So I say well chosen, and not just because I live here. Now, how to get tickets?

UPDATE May 12: More thoughts on what Obama should speak on when he comes to Cairo.

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.

a modern muslim country?

Really interesting article about the "other side" of Dubai. Yes, I know a lot of this has been said and/or written about before, but one part in particular stood out to me. The writer is interviewing a young Emirati and asks about Dubai's ongoing downward slide, and the Emirati says (emphasis mine):

"The Middle East will be far more dangerous if Dubai fails. Our export isn't oil, it's hope. Poor Egyptians or Libyans or Iranians grow up saying – I want to go to Dubai. We're very important to the region. We are showing how to be a modern Muslim country. We don't have any fundamentalists here. Europeans shouldn't gloat at our demise. You should be very worried.... Do you know what will happen if this model fails? Dubai will go down the Iranian path, the Islamist path."

Just...interesting. I haven't been to the UAE (yet), though I often hear it described as being overwhelmingly fake. It would be weird, I think, to transition from Cairo, with its 4,000 year old pyramids, to Dubai, a city that sprang up from almost nothing in the last 30-odd years. I get that there are incentives, but it lacks the culture that makes the Middle East so appealing to me. Still, it's interesting to hear the country, now in a magnificent state of decline, described as the great hope for the Middle East. For everyone's sake, I hope that Egypt, and the rest of the region, can do better.

I'll end just by mentioning another quote from the article. While interviewing another Emirati, this one a political dissident who was blacklisted and had his passport revoked after speaking with Human Rights Watch, the man says something very telling in regards to both Islamism and freedom of the press in the Middle East:

"People who are told to shut up all the time can just explode."

freedom of the press

The Medill Alums listserv has been updating on this fairly recently, but I thought I'd throw in my two cents. Roxana Saberi, a Medill alum, is an Iranian-American journalist (born in America, has dual citizenship) who has spent the last six years working in Iran and was arrested recently. I'm pretty sure it was initially for working as a journalist without the proper credentials, but the charges have since been upgraded to spying for America. Espionage, as you might imagine, is a pretty serious charge, so people have been following the case pretty closely.

It's cases like this that make me grateful to have grown up in a country with a free press. And it really makes me appreciate journalists who go out on a limb, reporters who put themselves at risk because they believe the public has a right to know what's going on in their country and with their government.

I often wonder about the state of the press in the rest of the Middle East, especially here in Egypt. Egypt doesn't have the best track record when it comes to press freedoms, and many bloggers in particular have gotten into trouble for speaking out against the government. There have been arrests, or journalists have been "disappeared," and there's certainly some amount of censorship. Obviously it's not as bad as in Iran, but I have to wonder if things are bound to get worse here -- after all, they're certainly not getting any better.

Anyway, you can read the full article here.

there is so much matzah in my kitchen

I realized I had never posted about being in Israel for Passover, so I thought I would write a quick update. I took the buses there on Tuesday (crossed the border without getting my passport stamped on either side again, which means I am 3-for-3 on passport stamp-age, knock on wood), and arrived in Tel Aviv in time for a late dinner with Sara. On Wednesday I relaxed on the beach for a bit, then got driven to Elkana to see the rest of the family (Dov, Bruria and extended counsins) for the seder. Seder was very enjoyable -- good food, not too long, plus I was able to follow along fine in Hebrew. Sara then picked me up late Thursday night, and I spent Friday shopping in Tel Aviv -- Nachalat Binyamin and Shenkin St. mostly. Though I have spent far more time in Jerusalem, I do have a few favorite stores in Tel Aviv, including HaOzen HaShlishi (The Third Ear), an excellent record shop where I picked up a ton of music, including the new Idan Raichel (woo!). I returned to Cairo by plane on Saturday night, in time to go to work on Sunday.

But I think the best part about going to Israel for Passover was just the holiday atmosphere. All the restaurants that remained open and kosher for Passover -- I still got to have an iced Aroma, and there were pizza places doing that kosher for Passover pizza which was not so bad -- plus everyone wishing you a Chag Sameach. I mean, it's like that a lot in Florida too -- there's never a problem finding good food and everyone else at the hotel we go to is Jewish also. Still, there's something uniquely awesome about being in Israel for Passover, and I was happy to experience it this year. How was I to know that last year when I said "next year in Jerusalem" it would end up being true?

Anyway, since then I have had a good week back in Egypt. Many friends have sampled the matzah I brought back from Israel, though I am definitely looking forward to the holiday ending tomorrow night (I celebrated in Israel this year, so seven days it is!). This upcoming weekend is also a long one, in honor of Coptic Easter, so I pretty much got two vacations in a row. I will be traveling to Siwa, an oasis in the Western Desert. Check back next week for some awesome photos and more updates!

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.

this is the worst deja vu ever

Last night, a bomb went off in Cairo. Police have already arrested three suspects, although no one has claimed responsibility yet, as far as I know. I am OK, and no one I know was hurt. The place where the bomb went off, Khan el-Khaleili, is a bazaar in Old Cairo, a place where I have been a bunch of times. This one hit pretty close to home -- not literally, more in the figurative sense that I know the place and it's a part of my life here.

But really, I guess my first thought when I heard about the bomb was, "I can't believe this is happening again." During the summer of 2006 I was interning at a newspaper in Jerusalem when the fighting with Lebanon started in the north. At first, it seemed to disrupt daily life just a little -- people I knew stopped taking the bus and avoided Ben Yehudah St. for a few days, since those had been previous targets. But it soon became clear that Jerusalem was a safe place. As the north of the country got evacuated, more and more people flocked to Jerusalem; there was a consensus that even if Hezbollah's rockets could reach Jerusalem, they would not attack the city.

Eventually that summer, I had to leave Israel early because of the fighting. Obviously this incident is different; it's an isolated event and not a conflict situation. The worst part I think is that Cairo feels like such a safe city. I am comfortable walking around downtown Cairo at night in a way I was not in Evanston, where muggings were fairly frequent in the areas near campus. Yes, women get hollered or whistled at in Egypt. But no one tries to beat you and steal your purse. It's comforting, compared to other big cities in which I have lived. Something like attack makes you question that.

I have to believe that goal of this bombing, like any other terrorist action, is to disrupt people's daily lives, to make them afraid. The best thing to do is not to give them that satisfaction, to keep living your life as you normally would. And that's exactly what I'm going to do.

non-violent protest

As many of you might have read a few weeks ago, a German-Egyptian activist named Philip Rizk was taken by Egyptian state security after organizing a peaceful march in support of Gaza. Read about it here. In any event, Rizk, who is also a blogger, made a documentary about Gaza after living there for two years. That film, "Palestinian Life: Village Stories of Sumoud and Non-Violent Resistance," was screened last night at AUC's old campus in Tahrir Square. Rizk, who was returned home last week, was missing for a few days when lots of people were speculating about his disappearance. His story is pretty well known in Cairo, so it was also noteworthy that he showed up to introduce his film and take questions at the end. He didn't endear himself to the Egyptian government too much with all his activism about Gaza. He criticized Israel for the attacks, but also the Egyptian government for not doing enough to help.

Anyway, he's obviously no Michael Moore, but I thought the film was interesting. The screening was packed (people were sitting on the floor and on the stairs), and there was a Q&A portion after the 30-minute documentary. As Rizk noted during the Q&A, the images that most often make it into the mainstream media are violent ones: Palestinian men with guns and keffiyahs, Israeli soldiers with guns, bloody shooting victims, homes reduced to rubble, the aftermath of a suicide bomb. He said he wanted to highlight the lives of ordinary Palestinians -- these are farmers and goat herders who live in small villages (or caves, in one example) and whose lives have been touched by a violent conflict they have done their best to avoid. The Arabic word in the title, sumoud, refers to a kind of steadfastness. It's a way of saying that their resistance is to keep living, to keep doing what they have always done and not led themselves be goaded into fighting. It's classic non-violent resistance.

And I, hippie-camp-attending, peace-loving, bleeding heart liberal that I am, thought that was a great focus for the film. A lot of the West regards Palestinians as nothing but jihadists, and Gaza as nothing but a breeding ground for malcontented future terrorists. I don't think the film made any points that were particularly surprising (these people have hard lives, have been screwed over by multiple governments including their own, and there is no real end in sight, etc.), but that doesn't mean it was less powerful.

I was particularly intrigued by one part of the film where Rizk highlighted the actions of B'Tselem, an Israeli human rights organization. They have an initiative called "Shooting Back," where Israeli activists give video cameras (and lessons on how to use them) to Palestinians in the West Bank and then instruct them to film abuses by local Israeli settlers if they see any. One of those film clips is in the movie, and it shows a few settlers with sticks (or baseball bats or something) beating up an elderly Palestinian woman in her field for no reason at all. It's a little wobbly and grainy, but the images are pretty disturbing nonetheless.

Some parts of the film were a little funny, whether intentionally or not (one enterprising Palestinian family took leftover parts from bombs and turned them into festive flowerpots), but the real winners came during the Q&A. One questioner mentioned that he would be in Gaza for three days on business (what business trip takes place in Gaza these days, I have no idea), and asked what did Rizk recommend he see if he had only three days in Gaza? I don't know if he meant to be funny, but really...that's your question?

And most disturbingly for me, though this film was obviously made with the best intentions, for me it raises more questions than it answers. But those musings will be another post for another time.

roman ruins and the river jordan

This past week I spent traveling in Jordan with N for our Eid vacation. Jordan is a beautiful country; we covered most of the country, from Jerash and Ajloun in the north to Wadi Rum in the south, and we saw some amazing things. I won't bore you with all the details, but here are some highlights and impressions.

My first impression of Jordanians was that they are extremely classy. In Egypt people will often get dressed up to go out; many of the more exclusive bars and clubs require reservations, and I have certainly had nights when I would need to look “shiny,” to borrow a term from my friend H. But in Jordan, everyone we saw was very trendy and dressy all the time, even in the airport and walking around in the cheaper downtown area. I felt underdressed in my dirty desert jeans. Also, Jordan seemed more conservative. In Egypt my friends and I regularly walk around in T-shirts, or skirts that come to the knee. In Jordan all the women appeared much more covered up, usually to the wrists, and many more women seemed to be wearing hijabs (were veiled).

As far as I am concerned, besides the beautiful scenery, the best part about Jordan was the famous Middle Eastern hospitality. I have experienced it to some extent in Egypt, especially during Ramadan I think. I have been welcomed into people's homes, and invited for meals and iftars. But Jordanians take it to a whole new level, in an awesome way. Everyone was so willing to share what they had, no matter what it was. Our driver from Amman to Petra stopped on the way to pick up food for his dinner and after he picked up each component he offered us some -- bread, juice, radishes. It didn't matter that he couldn't afford much, he wanted us to have some. In Petra, we met this Bedouin girl who gave us directions on our hike, then when she saw us on the way out she invited us for tea and some fruit. On the bus from Wadi Rum to Amman, there weren't a ton of free seats so we all had to split up. I ended up in the back row with a family that had four small children. Every time one of them went to eat something (a bag of chips, some orange slices, etc.), they always offered me some also... and wouldn't stop offering until I had taken just a little. Each time, it was just really nice. What a friendly country.

N and I landed in Amman last Saturday, a city that reminded me a lot of Jerusalem. Actually, a lot of Jordan's scenery reminded me of Israel, which is not really surprising given the amount of time I have spent in Israel and the fact that two countries share a border and thus fairly similar geography. Anyway, I think the biggest shock about Amman was that it was so quiet. It's a lovely city, spread across multiple hilltops and without any huge skyscrapers (that's what I meant about it being like Jerusalem). But everything closes so early. I don't think I have ever spent a significant amount of time in a city where everything just shut down so completely at such a ridiculous hour. All the tourist sites closed by 4 p.m., then the restaurants at around 7 p.m. One day we left our hostel at 8:30 to get dinner and everything was already closed, except for a few street falafel stands. Another night we went for dinner at 6:30 and when we left, they were putting away all the food and getting ready to close the place down. Also, all the public transportation, namely buses and minibuses, completely stopped running by 5 p.m. at the latest (though often much earlier). This meant getting up really early many mornings in order to still be able to enjoy a full day at any one site.

Petra was absolutely amazing. Our hostel screened Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (the one where the end was filmed in Petra), which was fun. We made friends with some of the other people in the hostel and then walked around with them for a bit. If you only have one day it's possible to hit the highlights and see a lot of Petra, but it's better if you have two days. On our second day, N and I chose to go see a slightly out of the way site called the "High Place of Sacrifice," which on the map looked like a short hike up but ended up being a serious trek. By the time we got to the top we were a little exhausted, but we had an amazing view of all of Petra, so it was completely worth it.

More friends were made on the way to Wadi Rum. The way to get from Petra to Wadi Rum is a 6:30 a.m. bus, and N and I hoped that we would be able to meet other people on the bus to share a tour guide with us in Wadi Rum. First on the bus we met a Korean girl traveling alone, and then as we got off we met two more Australians (N is also Australian). All wanted to share a half-day tour in Wadi Rum, and all wanted to go back to Amman that night (including us). We ended up with a tour lasting 3 1/2 hours through the desert, which was awesome, and then we began the process of getting back to Amman.

Since no buses run in the evenings (or even after noon in some cases), we figured our best shot was to try and flag down a bus or minibus on its way to Amman from Aqaba and get on from the main highway. Our Lonely Planet guide advised hitchhiking, which we considered, but there were five of us with large backpacks or duffel bags, so we eventually decided against it. The first few minibuses were a bit expensive, and several cars kept pulling over to ask us where we were going and why (this was a time when we obviously stood out as tourists, just standing on the side of Jordan's main highway looking like dirty backpackers).

Eventually a minibus came along and said they were going to Ma'an, a town in the center of Jordan on the way north where we would be able to catch a connecting bus to Amman. There weren't necessarily enough seats on the minibus, but some people shifted around and squished in so we could all have seats. In Ma'an we transferred to another bus to Amman, where we once again had to split up and squeeze in where we could (this is where I sat with the travelling family), and then finally arrived in Amman in time to go back to the hostel we had stayed in the first night. We brought the Australians with us, and all went together to have a nice dinner in the classy part of town, as opposed to the cheap local fare we had been enjoying (though the Bedouin food was really fantastic). Anyway, we really enjoyed this hostel, and met lots of cool people there over the time we were there -- some Polish art students, an Australian grandmother traveling around the world, two Spanish brothers on vacation in Jordan and Israel, and some others. It was a lot of fun to feel a part of the Jordan backpacking culture.

We also hit all the major tourist sites; we were able to cover almost the entire country in one week. We went to Petra for two days (one of the most amazing things I have seen), Wadi Rum (this desert protected area with lots of cool formations and great scenery, and you need a Bedouin tour guide to go around), Madaba (centuries-old mosaic map of the holy sites of the ancient world), Mt. Nebo (mountain from which Moses viewed Israel before dying), the castles of Karak and Shobak, Dead Sea (have now been from both Israel and Jordan), Bethany Beyond the Jordan (the site on the River Jordan where they think Jesus was baptized), Jerash (a city in the north with fantastic Roman ruins), Aljoun (another ancient castle), and Amman. We didn't make it to Aqaba or the Eastern Desert, but I guess that's just another reason to go back.

So overall it was a pretty excellent trip, as I hope you can tell by my stories. Check out the post below for some photos, and more will soon be up on Facebook.

photos from jordan

Here are some selected photos from my trip to Jordan. Check back for more details and fun travel stories in a later post. More photos will eventually be on facebook (seriously, I have like more than 300 from just this one week).

The view from Mt. Nebo, where Moses supposedly looked across as Israel (but was not allowed in) before dying. Those hazy mountains in the distance are Israel.

Al-Khazneh, or the Treasury, at Petra. You might recognize this building from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (and if not, you should go watch it!). But seriously, Petra is one of the most amazing things I have ever seen.

Nabatean tombs caves in Petra.

More tombs and ruins in Petra.

On our second day in Petra, N and I opted for what we thought we would be a short hike to a place called the "High Place of Sacrifice." Well, it was indeed high, but after the trek we got amazing views and this stone altar. Here I contemplate stepping out into the mountains.

Our Bedouin tour guide with his 4x4 in the Wadi Rum protected area.

Wadi Rum desert. A wadi is a kind of valley, and is sometimes translated as like a dry riverbed.

Sitting on a rock bridge in Wadi Rum. They don't have these in the desert in Egypt!

Roman ruins in Jerash, in northern Jordan. This city supposedly has the best-preserved Roman ruins outside of Italy, and they were indeed pretty amazing.

Temple of Zeus in Jerash.

Here I am attempting to step on and/or kick over the ruins below, which are part of the oval forum in Jerash.

And here is N and I at the Dead Sea, which I have now visited and swum in from both sides.

elsewhere in the middle east...

Egypt feels like the Middle East. Sometimes it's easy to forget when I live in Zamalek, across the street from Cinnabon and Pizza Hut, but most of the time it's pretty noticeable. Still, I thought this article, about expats in Dubai, was pretty interesting.

For good measure, here's one specifically about Egypt and how the country's ancient history coincides with the modern realities of being part of the developing world. Interesting!

By the way -- I throw around the term "expat" often but realized that I never really explained. The word "expat" is short for expatriate, the name for anyone living outside their native country for extended periods of time.