If you don't get the title of this post, be thankful, because it means that you've never had to endure Lawrence University freshman studies. . .
Usually I don't comment on the political situation in Egypt, and I hesitate to elaborate on my opinions here because I am still in Egypt. Yet, the reason I bring up politics is relevant because the Egyptian parliamentary elections happened on Sunday, and as a result I noticed some interesting changes in scenery. Let's just say it became slightly more militarized. While I was on my way to and from the Bahariya Oasis during the past weekend, our bus passed dozens of police transport vehicles that were loaded with people who I can only imagine are political dissidents. The Egyptian government has a policy against Islamic fundamentalism and therefore bans political organizations like the Muslim Brotherhood. Over the last week, protests popped up in Cairo and Alexandria, and there may have been casualties. I say "may have", because I get my news from al-Jazeera, which reports from the Gulf, because no local newspapers in Egypt carry the story. Perhaps I am wrong, and those transport vehicles were carrying petty thieves, but my instinct tells me no.
Another thing I witnessed was the location of an event that I read about on al-Jazeera English.com. Recently there has been an increase in violence between the Coptic Christian community and their Muslim neighbors. Last week the Coptic community clashed with the Egyptian police over the building of a church in Giza. The government declared that they didn't have the correct permit and tried to put the kibosh on the project. In response, the Copts protested and rioted against the police. Al-Jazeera reported one death.
Last Thursday, I passed the half-built church which was peppered with scaffoldings and dust. Surrounding the church and lining the highway around it was a police unit of perhaps two to three dozen men in riot gear. If you've never seen government action like it before, the sight is quite imposing.
I will reserve my comments for State-side, but I thought it prudent to record these observations.
Another note for all of you: Don't be worried when my blogposts cease until this Saturday or Sunday. It doesn't mean that I've been taken away in a paddywagon. Rather, I will be going to Jordan for the weekend, and will most likely not be bringing my computer. As of now, I only have 17 days until I leave for New York. With my impending trip to Jordan, this brings the total number of days left in Egypt to 14. Hooray!
The musings of a wannabe Egyptian princess.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Oasis Holiday
Ari in Egypt
What's a girl to do when she has a Thanksgiving weekend, and no one to spend it with? The solution is to embark with a colorful cast of characters on a desert adventure.
The ex-pat community center (CSA) in Maadi offers an annual trip to the Bahariya Oasis, which straddles the Black and White Deserts about 300 km south of Cairo. Since the CSA caters to all ex-pats, on Thursday morning I found myself waiting at the Center to embark on a six hour bus trip with a spunky Australian woman, one quiet German, a Lithuanian couple, an Irish lawyer, a hybrid French-American family, four American teachers from Egyptian schools including a very loud-mouthed woman from the Chicago area, and last but not least a very normal family from the States. That made the total fourteen adults and four children.
Our bonding began as we watched in horror as the driver hurled our duffel bags onto the roof of our bus, and then we departed. Six arduous, boring hours of desert (the corn-field equivalent of Egypt), one disgusting pitstop in the middle of nowhere, and a few near collisions later and we and all of the bags arrived at our hotel at the Bahariya Oasis. Upon our arrival we were greeted by the owner, Peter, a very bubbly gallabiya-clad German man with a comical accent who made us eat our lunch before checking-in and freshening up in our rooms (mistake). Then barely an hour after our late lunch, we were subjected to a two hour hike up to ruins from WWII (not worth it) on the top of a mountain. The scenery was hardly breathtaking, but I got some good sunset pics, and the torturous walk enabled me to chat with my traveling companions who had been living the expat life for many years. One American woman had worked in eight foreign countries!
For our Thanksgiving dinner that night, we ate in the hotel's beduoin tent, a very contrived affair with local musicians and dancers. The food was superb, and yes, they did have turkey, but I didn't touch it. The fare included eggplant (yum), root vegetables, carrots, brown rice, lentil soup, and oranges for dessert. Not really Thanksgiving food, but it was the best I probably could get in Egypt.
That night I slept about ten hours, and was fresh in the morning for our all-day off-road excursion to the Black and White Deserts. I was lucky to be in jeep #1 with Abdul, the head man of Bahariya Oasis. He was very well spoken and seemed to have done everything from being superintendent of the local school district to graphic designer to bedouin musician (he even got to travel to the U.S. and France).
At our first stop in the Black Desert, named thus for the igneous rocks found there, we played in and around the sand dunes and explored the nearby rock formations.
The most amazing aspect I found about the desert is the glorious and haunting silence for miles. Truly amazing.
Our next stop was another semi-horrible pitstop at which the toilet facilities were so abominable that there was more dignity in going in the desert, and so the majority of us did just that. At least we had a good laugh, and it is liberating to think of the entire desert as a big litterbox. Thank goodness I packed toilet paper and hand sanitizer.
We also were supposed to get a lunch from our hotel, and because breakfast and dinner from the previous night were so delicious, we had high hopes that were immediately squashed when we found some icky looking meat kebabs, and a bag of chips packaged for each of us. After straggling far too long at the pitstop in waiting for our guides to finish praying at the mosque, and still very hungry, we headed out to the White Desert which is one of the strangest, most interesting places on planet Earth.
The white rock formations in the desert are made of chalk that was originally at the bottom of a huge sea bed, that eventually receded and that the wind whipped into strange shapes. The blocks almost look like icebergs, but since it hasn't rained in ten years, and the weather was in the 90's (F) this week, I can guarantee that it was not ice.
We arrived back from the desert at 7:30p.m., and had a nice leisurely dinner throughout which the travelers who were stuck in the jeep with loud-mouthed Chicago woman complained about their ears ringing from her incessant chatter. All of the single travelers (mostly teachers) on the trip seemed to take a liking to me, the youngest adult on the trip, and I found them all easy to talk to. Especially fascinating was learning about the ex-pat lifestyle, and the ease with which people can grow accustomed to different surroundings and form their own communities within the very foreign, alienating Egyptian culture.
We were all so exhausted that the majority of us went to bed directly after dinner and rose early for the half day excursion to the Bahariya antiquities sites. We went to a very poorly constructed museum filled with Zahi Hawass's loot from Bahariya, the golden mummies. After seeing the hall of mummies at the Egyptian museum, I was not too impressed by these Egypto-Roman mummies. However, the poverty stricken Bahariya people stake a lot on these archaeological finds to bring in tourism, so I gladly patronized the museum. The group also went into an underground Ancient Egyptian tomb. I say "the group" because after walking down the rickety steep stairs to get to the bottom of the pit and finding a two foot high opening, my claustrophobia got the better of me and I decided that one tomb (Saqqara) was enough for this trip. Instead I waited up top with Dorothy, the Australian, and Ingrid, the German and chatted with them. Dorothy's excuse was that she was tired of old stones and faded paint. My thoughts exactly. Boisterous Dorothy lived in Saudi Arabia for a year while working at a university there, an experience about which I was fascinated to hear. She told me that Saudi Arabia is not an easy place to live, and that the only thing she was able to do there was shop. After a while, she said, it got so boring that she applied for a transfer. Her life in Egypt has not been much easier, so she is leaving permenantly for Australia in the next month. I say, good for her.
When the group returned, we got on the bus only to find that at our driver's error, we were stuck in the sand. (A new experience for me, and now I can add sand to my repertoir of stuckage: mud, snow, and sleet). The tour guide Sherif would not under any circumstances let the women of the group help push the bus, so ten women including me stood around and watched four not-so burly guys and four little boys try to push a twenty-seater bus that was getting further stuck in the sand. Oh, Egyptian sexism. It took about forty minutes to get unstuck at which point we were already late for lunch, and thus for our 1:30pm departure time.
Not much else happened on the trip that is left to report, except that we got further delayed in a horrendous traffic jam getting into Cairo, and our bus driver who was about to take a traffic-laden route started swearing like a sailor on leave when we tried to direct him on a better road. We were right, but he was still livid at our impertinence.
The tour ended without ceremony. Each one of us stood around ready to quickly catch our duffel bags from the top of the bus in order to beat the others in the group to the taxis. Our goodbyes were rushed, which was hard. Even harder for me is that it's difficult to say goodbye to people that I feel close to even after a short time knowing them, with the knowledge that I will probably never see them again. That's how I feel about the ex-pats I met on this trip. They will always be in my memory for making my Thanksgiving 2010 one for the books.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
The Problem of Sexual Harassment
WARNING:
**This post is not going to be funny, and despite my nature I cannot find an inch of humor in these experiences. It may even be a trigger for people who have experienced sexual violence, so please don't read on if you have trauma associated with these issues.**
Defining harassment is difficult, because there are many forms that I can pinpoint. For the purposes of this post, I will define sexual harassment as the subtle and overt forms of negative sexual attention I receive on a daily basis. To make it easier for everyone to understand I will create a "level" system to lead up to the more severe forms of street harassment that I have personally encountered. These include Level One harassment which are by far the most frequent: intense oggling from men on the street, a probing kind of violation. If you haven't experience it before, it's as if every man passing you by is looking at you naked, which is extremely unnerving and creepy. Other Level One forms often occur in taxis: personal questions about being married, asking for phone numbers, and even their attempts to touch you. In American culture, having a man touch my hand is a non-issue, but understanding the cultural context here in Egypt is important. A man should not and will not touch a woman he respects. Therefore, if an Egyptian man is touching you in any way, (unless you know him well), he is disrespecting you. Level Two I would consider to be men spewing lewd and inappropriate comments at me (calling me a whore in Arabic or making kissing noises/sexual grunts). I've been yelled at out of car windows (things I don't understand thanks to my elementary knowledge of Egyptian colloquial) and often hear a cacophony of kissing noises from random men on street corners. Level Three is being followed by a man or packs of boys who are only encouraged by being ignored and/or shooed away. Within my first week of living in Maadi, I was approached by a man who I thought was going to ask me for directions (because he asked if I spoke English), and instead he asked me for sex. I had no idea what to do so I protested in English and started walking away very quickly, but noticed that he was trailing behind me for a block. That's when I broke into a run toward my apartment. The next incident was when I was with my mother in Alexandria, and approximately three teenage boys started following me and asking me questions in English and getting way too close for comfort. All I could do was hold my mom's hand and try not to cry. Level Four I would characterize as hostile and dangerous, and are rarer but still happen more than necessary. Level Four is what happened to me last night. My roommate and I were walking back from dinner at a restaurant down the road from our apartment when a car of Egyptian teenage boys started to follow us and flirtatiously call out to us. We ignored them, and they drove ahead of us. We thought they were gone, but a few blocks later they reappeared and started yelling more aggressively at us and started moaning and jeering in our direction. Mind you, this was on a busy street. I was so angry that I screamed "Imshi", which means "go away". They had a good laugh at my ability to say this in Arabic, but I thought they got the picture and drove away down the busy street. That's when my roommate and I turned into our dark side street to walk the two blocks to our apartment building. Because of shoddy construction and garbage, sidewalks are basically unusuable so we were walking on the edge of the street. We had no idea that they were still trailing us until a car revved up to probably 50 or 60 mph aimed directly at our backs, getting within inches of hitting us (on purpose) and then the boys sped away laughing. At this point we were shaken, but little did we know that they had more in store for us, because they were waiting towards the end of block, partially in an alley, like spiders waiting for their prey. We were already too far out of hearing range for the police at the beginning of the street to help us, and there was no one else on the street. Both of us were frozen on the spot as we saw one boy open the door to come toward us, and a million thoughts went through my head. I thought about how fast I could dash toward the police unit down the street, and if that would be fast enough to outrun about seven teenage boys who were bigger than me. I thought about my dentist's advice, that the best weapon I have is my set of strong teeth. I thought about the mace that I had left behind in New York, because the penalty for using it in Egypt is imprisonment. I thought about how the law is not on women's side here in Egyptian courts. They could twist any kind of assault on us into something that was our fault, that we brought this upon ourselves especially because we are American "sharmoutas", whores. I thought about the fact that these were privileged boys based on the type of luxury car they were driving, so they could probably do anything to us and get away with it. I was thinking about how loud I could scream. Now that I think of it, this is probably the most terrified I've been in Egypt, bar none. Within that second one action could have changed the course of occurrences. The second that that Egyptian boy opened the door, he seemed to rethink his plan of action, and shut the door almost as quickly as he opened it. Satisfied that they had scared the living daylights out of a pair of defenseless American girls, the group drove away.
This episode made me think about the fear that minorities of all kinds, women, dark-skinned people, transgender, and people across the queer spectrum feel when the majority subjects them to similar modes of violent or aggressive harassment. I was lucky in that I was not hurt in any physical way, but I did learn what it feels like to truly be defenseless.
Other Level Four harassment types have not occurred to me, but I have heard about them. One Canadian woman I talked to told me about a man who was watching her in a public street in Maadi and masturbating . This, apparently, is not an uncommon sight. There are also other kinds of harassment, the likes of which I have only heard about: men groping women on the Metro, the solution of which is a women's train car. My opinion on this is that it only puts a band-aid on the problem, and does not get down to the problem of men who cannot control themselves and who have no respect for women. Another example of a Level Four is an incident that occurred in downtown Cairo last year. A bunch of teenage girls and women were leaving a movie theater when about a hundred men and boys descended upon them and started ripping off their hijabs and grabbing at their bodies. For that reason, I do not go downtown. Level Five I would consider rape. Though, unlike the prevalence with which you find impersonal rape (rape by a stranger) in the United States, there is hardly any reports of this kind. Perhaps that is because few women are willing to report it, but there are no incidences of foreign women reporting impersonal rape. In the streets of Cairo, the abuse stops at groping. It's like trading one evil for another, but I would have to say I would rather endure any of Levels 1-4, instead of going through the hell of 5.
Sexual harassment in Egypt is not playful, flirtatious, or flattering. It's almost surreal, because it's so outrageous to hear about the frequency and kind of its occurrences that a person reading about it may think, "Could that really happen?" Yes, it could and it does. It has happened to me, and I am definitely not making it up. These are twisted, hostile, and intimidating acts that make even the strongest women fearful of walking outside. I hate that this happens to me so often, and I am glad that I will be leaving this country soon, because this is really more than I can handle. After a while, it starts to wear a person down. I'm at the point. I'm tired as hell, and I'm not going to take it anymore!
*** I promise my next post will be more pleasant.
**This post is not going to be funny, and despite my nature I cannot find an inch of humor in these experiences. It may even be a trigger for people who have experienced sexual violence, so please don't read on if you have trauma associated with these issues.**
Defining harassment is difficult, because there are many forms that I can pinpoint. For the purposes of this post, I will define sexual harassment as the subtle and overt forms of negative sexual attention I receive on a daily basis. To make it easier for everyone to understand I will create a "level" system to lead up to the more severe forms of street harassment that I have personally encountered. These include Level One harassment which are by far the most frequent: intense oggling from men on the street, a probing kind of violation. If you haven't experience it before, it's as if every man passing you by is looking at you naked, which is extremely unnerving and creepy. Other Level One forms often occur in taxis: personal questions about being married, asking for phone numbers, and even their attempts to touch you. In American culture, having a man touch my hand is a non-issue, but understanding the cultural context here in Egypt is important. A man should not and will not touch a woman he respects. Therefore, if an Egyptian man is touching you in any way, (unless you know him well), he is disrespecting you. Level Two I would consider to be men spewing lewd and inappropriate comments at me (calling me a whore in Arabic or making kissing noises/sexual grunts). I've been yelled at out of car windows (things I don't understand thanks to my elementary knowledge of Egyptian colloquial) and often hear a cacophony of kissing noises from random men on street corners. Level Three is being followed by a man or packs of boys who are only encouraged by being ignored and/or shooed away. Within my first week of living in Maadi, I was approached by a man who I thought was going to ask me for directions (because he asked if I spoke English), and instead he asked me for sex. I had no idea what to do so I protested in English and started walking away very quickly, but noticed that he was trailing behind me for a block. That's when I broke into a run toward my apartment. The next incident was when I was with my mother in Alexandria, and approximately three teenage boys started following me and asking me questions in English and getting way too close for comfort. All I could do was hold my mom's hand and try not to cry. Level Four I would characterize as hostile and dangerous, and are rarer but still happen more than necessary. Level Four is what happened to me last night. My roommate and I were walking back from dinner at a restaurant down the road from our apartment when a car of Egyptian teenage boys started to follow us and flirtatiously call out to us. We ignored them, and they drove ahead of us. We thought they were gone, but a few blocks later they reappeared and started yelling more aggressively at us and started moaning and jeering in our direction. Mind you, this was on a busy street. I was so angry that I screamed "Imshi", which means "go away". They had a good laugh at my ability to say this in Arabic, but I thought they got the picture and drove away down the busy street. That's when my roommate and I turned into our dark side street to walk the two blocks to our apartment building. Because of shoddy construction and garbage, sidewalks are basically unusuable so we were walking on the edge of the street. We had no idea that they were still trailing us until a car revved up to probably 50 or 60 mph aimed directly at our backs, getting within inches of hitting us (on purpose) and then the boys sped away laughing. At this point we were shaken, but little did we know that they had more in store for us, because they were waiting towards the end of block, partially in an alley, like spiders waiting for their prey. We were already too far out of hearing range for the police at the beginning of the street to help us, and there was no one else on the street. Both of us were frozen on the spot as we saw one boy open the door to come toward us, and a million thoughts went through my head. I thought about how fast I could dash toward the police unit down the street, and if that would be fast enough to outrun about seven teenage boys who were bigger than me. I thought about my dentist's advice, that the best weapon I have is my set of strong teeth. I thought about the mace that I had left behind in New York, because the penalty for using it in Egypt is imprisonment. I thought about how the law is not on women's side here in Egyptian courts. They could twist any kind of assault on us into something that was our fault, that we brought this upon ourselves especially because we are American "sharmoutas", whores. I thought about the fact that these were privileged boys based on the type of luxury car they were driving, so they could probably do anything to us and get away with it. I was thinking about how loud I could scream. Now that I think of it, this is probably the most terrified I've been in Egypt, bar none. Within that second one action could have changed the course of occurrences. The second that that Egyptian boy opened the door, he seemed to rethink his plan of action, and shut the door almost as quickly as he opened it. Satisfied that they had scared the living daylights out of a pair of defenseless American girls, the group drove away.
This episode made me think about the fear that minorities of all kinds, women, dark-skinned people, transgender, and people across the queer spectrum feel when the majority subjects them to similar modes of violent or aggressive harassment. I was lucky in that I was not hurt in any physical way, but I did learn what it feels like to truly be defenseless.
Other Level Four harassment types have not occurred to me, but I have heard about them. One Canadian woman I talked to told me about a man who was watching her in a public street in Maadi and masturbating . This, apparently, is not an uncommon sight. There are also other kinds of harassment, the likes of which I have only heard about: men groping women on the Metro, the solution of which is a women's train car. My opinion on this is that it only puts a band-aid on the problem, and does not get down to the problem of men who cannot control themselves and who have no respect for women. Another example of a Level Four is an incident that occurred in downtown Cairo last year. A bunch of teenage girls and women were leaving a movie theater when about a hundred men and boys descended upon them and started ripping off their hijabs and grabbing at their bodies. For that reason, I do not go downtown. Level Five I would consider rape. Though, unlike the prevalence with which you find impersonal rape (rape by a stranger) in the United States, there is hardly any reports of this kind. Perhaps that is because few women are willing to report it, but there are no incidences of foreign women reporting impersonal rape. In the streets of Cairo, the abuse stops at groping. It's like trading one evil for another, but I would have to say I would rather endure any of Levels 1-4, instead of going through the hell of 5.
Sexual harassment in Egypt is not playful, flirtatious, or flattering. It's almost surreal, because it's so outrageous to hear about the frequency and kind of its occurrences that a person reading about it may think, "Could that really happen?" Yes, it could and it does. It has happened to me, and I am definitely not making it up. These are twisted, hostile, and intimidating acts that make even the strongest women fearful of walking outside. I hate that this happens to me so often, and I am glad that I will be leaving this country soon, because this is really more than I can handle. After a while, it starts to wear a person down. I'm at the point. I'm tired as hell, and I'm not going to take it anymore!
*** I promise my next post will be more pleasant.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Kitsch on the Corniche
Last night I watched my mom drive away in a taxi, and by now she is probably back in New York. I was sad to see her go, but I know that in 24 days (!!!) I will be back in the United States of America with her and the rest of my family, so I'm doing okay.
Before she left, we did something ridiculously stupid. Really stupid. Really really stupid. Don't believe me? Here is the proof . . .
Now that I have published the first picture, it cannot be used for extortion. Copies are available upon request. :D
On Saturday we decided to forgo some of the more traditional tourist destinations in Cairo because frankly we've exhausted all of the important ones, and went instead to the cheesy "Pharoanic Village". We both hated it, but in a good way. The place is supposed to be a recreation of a village in Ancient Egypt, but in reality it's just a cheesy 1980's flea-bitten theme park. The other down-side is that our tour guide (who was forced upon us) acted as a jailor and watched out for any potential defections. We got a huge laugh over it, and the picture above as a souvenir, so it was worth a few hours of agony.
Later, to make up for the previous experience we ate at Barry's, the restaurant we went to in August to eat and gaze at the pyramids. They never get old, and the food was delicious.
Unfortunately, I got ill from drinking apple cider at another restaurant earlier in the day on Saturday, and I was unable to do anything except go to school with mom on Sunday. Then the next day, we went to a french patisserie in Maadi that was "very civilized", according to my mother. (See the picture on the right for me and my chocolate confection. Mmmmmmmm).
Now my mom is gone, and I'm counting down the days until my departure.
Before she left, we did something ridiculously stupid. Really stupid. Really really stupid. Don't believe me? Here is the proof . . .
On Saturday we decided to forgo some of the more traditional tourist destinations in Cairo because frankly we've exhausted all of the important ones, and went instead to the cheesy "Pharoanic Village". We both hated it, but in a good way. The place is supposed to be a recreation of a village in Ancient Egypt, but in reality it's just a cheesy 1980's flea-bitten theme park. The other down-side is that our tour guide (who was forced upon us) acted as a jailor and watched out for any potential defections. We got a huge laugh over it, and the picture above as a souvenir, so it was worth a few hours of agony.
Later, to make up for the previous experience we ate at Barry's, the restaurant we went to in August to eat and gaze at the pyramids. They never get old, and the food was delicious.
Unfortunately, I got ill from drinking apple cider at another restaurant earlier in the day on Saturday, and I was unable to do anything except go to school with mom on Sunday. Then the next day, we went to a french patisserie in Maadi that was "very civilized", according to my mother. (See the picture on the right for me and my chocolate confection. Mmmmmmmm).Now my mom is gone, and I'm counting down the days until my departure.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
The Ancient Egyptians are Dead
Most people travel to Egypt to find the Ancient Egyptians, only to return to their home countries somewhat disappointed. From my experience here, I have come to terms with the blatant and saddening reality that they are in fact, irretrievably dead. The four thousand year old crumbling stone monuments that remain are only an echo of them, and a decidedly weak echo at that. Perhaps the best example of this is the Great Pyramid complex, which is partially ruined by the pushy vendors selling cheap trinkets within the pyramid confines, and the never-ending urban sprawl that sits around it. This includes the nearby Kentucky Fried Chicken/Pizza Hut, the police sirens, pollution, and urban decay that disturbs what should be an atmosphere of reveree.
This place does not hold them, this culture does not resemble them, the people alive here are not them. My mother wisely observed that the Ancient Egyptians seem to live more in our imagination of them, and in the artifacts that conquering nations stole from this fertile land over many centuries than in the geographical region that is modern Egypt. Although I still recommend seeing the pyramids, it is not necessary to see them to connect with this mysterious and beautiful ancient civilization. Ancient Egypt is in all of us, is everywhere, and belongs to everyone. It just took a journey 6,000 miles, three months, and two trips to the Pyramids for me to figure that out.
This place does not hold them, this culture does not resemble them, the people alive here are not them. My mother wisely observed that the Ancient Egyptians seem to live more in our imagination of them, and in the artifacts that conquering nations stole from this fertile land over many centuries than in the geographical region that is modern Egypt. Although I still recommend seeing the pyramids, it is not necessary to see them to connect with this mysterious and beautiful ancient civilization. Ancient Egypt is in all of us, is everywhere, and belongs to everyone. It just took a journey 6,000 miles, three months, and two trips to the Pyramids for me to figure that out.
Friday, November 19, 2010
Hypatia Returns
In choosing a username for this blog back in May, I settled upon Hypatia for her significance as an important, learned Egyptian woman. Hypatia (350-415 AD) was a librarian of the great library of Alexandria, and a distinguished scholar in philosophy, mathematics, and astronomy. She opposed Christian influence in this Greco-Egyptian city, and abhorred that the Christians destroyed most scientific scrolls (some say as many as 500,000) in the library for their anti-Christian content. In tandem with the library, she was also attacked by a Christian mob and brutally killed for being pagan. Historians praise her scholarship above the men of her time, and her death was parallel with the end of the Classical era.
Because of my connection with Hypatia, I felt that it was appropriate that I, the modern Hypatia, travel to Alexandria to see the library and to experience the city that was the seat of Greco-Roman culture in Egypt.
I brought my mother along for the ride, and we embarked on our journey by train, which turned out to be a terrible experience. I'm not sure how to pinpoint the worst part of our train trip, whether it was the choking fumes in the train station, the unfriendly eyes of hundreds of Upper Egyptians staring at us, the only non-Egyptians in the station, the decay of the train itself, the bag attendant who held our suitcase hostage for 40 LE, the blasting air conditioning, the unusable bathroom, or the fact that my window was so caked in dirt that I could not see the landscape outside. Let me conclude by saying that we were in first class. Yes, that's right, FIRST CLASS. This makes me shudder to think of the situation for regular Egyptians.
About three miserable hours later we arrived at our destination, chose a taxi driver at the station, and headed to our hotel. We zipped past the Roman monuments (and later the new library of Alexandria), which were few and far between, and found ourselves on the Corniche, a street running parallel to the Mediterranean Sea. I am pleased to announce that the Mediterranean is as beautiful a deep blue in Egypt as it is elsewhere. The city itself is not very impressive, because the buildings are weathered to a negligible level. However, the saving grace of Alexandria is that it has greenery, very little garbage, and fresh air. Most of the Alexandrians we talked to despise Cairo, and I can understand why. Who would want to live in the sprawling polluted mess of Cairo when you can live in the comfortable, beautiful, and clean Alexandria?
When we arrived at our hotel, the Sheraton Montazah Gardens, which is situated about 25 km from the city center, we were even more pleased with our choice of vacation destination. The view from our hotel room balcony was spectacular! We could see the gardens of King Farouk across the street and the edge of the Mediterranean.
After a rest from our tiring journey, we braved the traffic (as in we had to run across four lanes of fast-moving cars) to visit the gardens. It was already night time, so we couldn't see or experience the flora and fauna of the place. Instead we experienced the joys of street harassment yet again. I'm not one to blame the girl for what she is wearing, but I did knowingly walk out at night with a skirt that was shorter than knee length in Egypt. I anticipated some trouble, but I am not taking responsibility for their lewd behavior. We shooed away the adolescent perpetrators, and hurried to an American restaurant which was filled with wealthy Alexandrians. For the rest of the evening, we sat, ate, and watched the cars go by from our terrace seating. The highlight of our 'people watching' was a car driving at 25 miles per hour with a seven-year-old child sitting precariously on the hood. Welcome to Egypt.
After our dinner, we decided not to visit our hotel's discoteque for a drink, which was probably a good idea because it was most likely crawling with muscle shirt-wearing creepy Egyptian guys looking to prey upon drunk American women. This is what I'm making up, but it's more than plausible.
This morning we decided to order continental breakfast in bed while watching cheesy Egyptian soap operas. At around 10 am, we toured the gardens again, and found them to be absolutely breathtaking. We also wandered over to King Farouk's palace which is a symbol of a bygone era of colonialism. Then we gathered our things and sat for three hours at our hotel's private beach under a cabana. I fell asleep to the sound of the waves, and was revived an hour later by the feel of the sea breeze on my face.
To top this lovely experience, Mom and I sat on the water's edge at our hotel's cafe, and enjoyed a nice lunch before leaving Alexandria for Cairo by private car. We, the princesses that we are, decided that the private car was a good deal because the train sucks, and the chauffer service was about 1/5 of the price of an American car transport. The drive took about four hours (which is an hour longer than the train), but our driver was very attentive and sweet, and delivered us safely back to our apartment. The overall experience of Alexandria was very refreshing, and if our hotel room had been available for another night, we would have stayed. Sadly, this was not the case, because it was Eid weekend and the hotel was completely booked. Hypatia returned to the beauty of her native city, but had to leave it again too soon.
Because of my connection with Hypatia, I felt that it was appropriate that I, the modern Hypatia, travel to Alexandria to see the library and to experience the city that was the seat of Greco-Roman culture in Egypt.
I brought my mother along for the ride, and we embarked on our journey by train, which turned out to be a terrible experience. I'm not sure how to pinpoint the worst part of our train trip, whether it was the choking fumes in the train station, the unfriendly eyes of hundreds of Upper Egyptians staring at us, the only non-Egyptians in the station, the decay of the train itself, the bag attendant who held our suitcase hostage for 40 LE, the blasting air conditioning, the unusable bathroom, or the fact that my window was so caked in dirt that I could not see the landscape outside. Let me conclude by saying that we were in first class. Yes, that's right, FIRST CLASS. This makes me shudder to think of the situation for regular Egyptians.
The beautiful view from my window
About three miserable hours later we arrived at our destination, chose a taxi driver at the station, and headed to our hotel. We zipped past the Roman monuments (and later the new library of Alexandria), which were few and far between, and found ourselves on the Corniche, a street running parallel to the Mediterranean Sea. I am pleased to announce that the Mediterranean is as beautiful a deep blue in Egypt as it is elsewhere. The city itself is not very impressive, because the buildings are weathered to a negligible level. However, the saving grace of Alexandria is that it has greenery, very little garbage, and fresh air. Most of the Alexandrians we talked to despise Cairo, and I can understand why. Who would want to live in the sprawling polluted mess of Cairo when you can live in the comfortable, beautiful, and clean Alexandria?
When we arrived at our hotel, the Sheraton Montazah Gardens, which is situated about 25 km from the city center, we were even more pleased with our choice of vacation destination. The view from our hotel room balcony was spectacular! We could see the gardens of King Farouk across the street and the edge of the Mediterranean.
The Montazah Gardens
After a rest from our tiring journey, we braved the traffic (as in we had to run across four lanes of fast-moving cars) to visit the gardens. It was already night time, so we couldn't see or experience the flora and fauna of the place. Instead we experienced the joys of street harassment yet again. I'm not one to blame the girl for what she is wearing, but I did knowingly walk out at night with a skirt that was shorter than knee length in Egypt. I anticipated some trouble, but I am not taking responsibility for their lewd behavior. We shooed away the adolescent perpetrators, and hurried to an American restaurant which was filled with wealthy Alexandrians. For the rest of the evening, we sat, ate, and watched the cars go by from our terrace seating. The highlight of our 'people watching' was a car driving at 25 miles per hour with a seven-year-old child sitting precariously on the hood. Welcome to Egypt.
After our dinner, we decided not to visit our hotel's discoteque for a drink, which was probably a good idea because it was most likely crawling with muscle shirt-wearing creepy Egyptian guys looking to prey upon drunk American women. This is what I'm making up, but it's more than plausible.
This morning we decided to order continental breakfast in bed while watching cheesy Egyptian soap operas. At around 10 am, we toured the gardens again, and found them to be absolutely breathtaking. We also wandered over to King Farouk's palace which is a symbol of a bygone era of colonialism. Then we gathered our things and sat for three hours at our hotel's private beach under a cabana. I fell asleep to the sound of the waves, and was revived an hour later by the feel of the sea breeze on my face.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Coptic Cairo
After a lovely four-course luncheon and stimulating table conversation with my Lawrence professors, Mom and I headed by taxi to the Christian area of Cairo. Unfortunately, our taxi driver dropped us off at a major intersection without any indication of the direction of the Coptic city, so we walked randomly and found ourselves at a very large mosque where we witnessed a baby without pants pooping on the grass, fully veiled women glaring at us from their eyeholes, and from which we were ultimately shooed away by large policemen with guns.
Realizing our mistake, that we had actually walked in the opposite direction of the walled/heavily secured Christian area, we traipsed back to our starting point and found the correct entrance.
Coptic Cairo appeared, as my Mom observed it, like a Disneyworld attraction. The streets were fairly clean for Cairo and besides the Coptic locals, most of the people milling about where Japanese and American tourists. The buildings were all whitewashed and medieval looking, and the rest of the town was comprised of either medieval church buildings or souvenir shops, just like Epcot.
We wound our way through the narrow alleyways, peeking into small chapels, reliqueries, and churches. The last stop on this short visit was the Hanging Church, which looked like something out of Mexico with a cactus in front of it (see picture below). It's called the "Hanging Church" because it is suspended over an old Roman fort.
The architecture inside was not very impressive, though the churches' importance lies in its role as the seat of the Coptic patriarchate. We even witnessed a priest with a chest-length beard and kind smile blessing children. The experience was an interesting one for its human factor- from the old Christian women kissing the relics of saints, to the nuns walking about, and the intermingling of Christians and Muslims, co-habiting, at least in this moment in space and time.
Realizing our mistake, that we had actually walked in the opposite direction of the walled/heavily secured Christian area, we traipsed back to our starting point and found the correct entrance.
Coptic Cairo appeared, as my Mom observed it, like a Disneyworld attraction. The streets were fairly clean for Cairo and besides the Coptic locals, most of the people milling about where Japanese and American tourists. The buildings were all whitewashed and medieval looking, and the rest of the town was comprised of either medieval church buildings or souvenir shops, just like Epcot.
We wound our way through the narrow alleyways, peeking into small chapels, reliqueries, and churches. The last stop on this short visit was the Hanging Church, which looked like something out of Mexico with a cactus in front of it (see picture below). It's called the "Hanging Church" because it is suspended over an old Roman fort.
The architecture inside was not very impressive, though the churches' importance lies in its role as the seat of the Coptic patriarchate. We even witnessed a priest with a chest-length beard and kind smile blessing children. The experience was an interesting one for its human factor- from the old Christian women kissing the relics of saints, to the nuns walking about, and the intermingling of Christians and Muslims, co-habiting, at least in this moment in space and time.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Modern Plagues of Egypt
Today I got my wish. On the way to airport to collect my mother, I was greeted by the sight of animal carcasses being hauled on top of cars, and skins draped over truck beds. I also spied a few men in white shirts soaked with blood, carrying bloody stumps and pillowcases filled with what I assumed were innards.
It was amazingly grotesque, and I'm glad I could tell you all about it.
Later, I greeted my mom at the Cairo International Airport where we re-enacted the airplane arrivals montage from Love Actually to a crowd of approving Egyptians. Then we finagled a town car for our ride back to the apartment, which was perhaps the best part of her re-introduction to Cairo, because later we experienced loads of let's just call them "interesting situations". On our way to the amazing Lucille's (American) restaurant in Maadi, we were honked at, leered at, and even howled at (actually it was more of an obscene groan) from a passing car. Maybe it was just the sight of two lovely ladies walking uncovered on the street that sent them over the edge, but for obvious reasons I wasn't really flattered. At Lucille's the waiter addressed my mother as "my queen", which pleased her a lot, and made up somewhat for the scumbags from earlier in the evening. My point is that for every creep, there is at least one very charming and hospitable Egyptian man.
Then after our dinner, we headed home on foot and were followed for about five blocks by a stray dog who got close enough to lick my mom's hand. We escaped from the dog by crossing the street, but soon noticed bats swooping above us in the treetops. That being said, neither of us contracted rabies, or were permanently scarred in any way, but we were a bit shaken by the amalgamation of the modern plagues of Egypt into one unlucky evening.
It was amazingly grotesque, and I'm glad I could tell you all about it.
Later, I greeted my mom at the Cairo International Airport where we re-enacted the airplane arrivals montage from Love Actually to a crowd of approving Egyptians. Then we finagled a town car for our ride back to the apartment, which was perhaps the best part of her re-introduction to Cairo, because later we experienced loads of let's just call them "interesting situations". On our way to the amazing Lucille's (American) restaurant in Maadi, we were honked at, leered at, and even howled at (actually it was more of an obscene groan) from a passing car. Maybe it was just the sight of two lovely ladies walking uncovered on the street that sent them over the edge, but for obvious reasons I wasn't really flattered. At Lucille's the waiter addressed my mother as "my queen", which pleased her a lot, and made up somewhat for the scumbags from earlier in the evening. My point is that for every creep, there is at least one very charming and hospitable Egyptian man.
Then after our dinner, we headed home on foot and were followed for about five blocks by a stray dog who got close enough to lick my mom's hand. We escaped from the dog by crossing the street, but soon noticed bats swooping above us in the treetops. That being said, neither of us contracted rabies, or were permanently scarred in any way, but we were a bit shaken by the amalgamation of the modern plagues of Egypt into one unlucky evening.
Monday, November 15, 2010
The Silence of the Lambs
The beginning of the end for these four-legged friends
In celebration of Eid, a holiday from which I should not have the benefit of a week's vacation, I have done absolutely nothing. Yesterday, I got to hang out and eat McDonald's (very unlike me) and watch South Park (her idea not mine) with my new friend who I shall refer to as S, a devout Muslim girl who has an obsession over American television. That was perhaps one of the most fun and unusual interactions I've had with people in Egypt.
Other recent memorable meetings include sitting next to an Egyptian girl on the bus who spontaneously leaned over from her physics readings to help me with my Arabic homework. She then offered me food, which I accepted, and told me she was glad to help me anytime.
A taxi driver I had recently was also surprisingly cordial. Note that I am usually weary of taxi drivers and their attempts to make passes on female passengers. However, this guy was genuine, and engaged in a conversation with me predominantly in Arabic. He offered me a cigarette (which was the polite thing to do) and proceeded to light it for himself after my refusal.We chatted about Cairo, and his girlfriend, and our families until he delivered me safely to my destination.
That's all to report today. Tomorrow my mommy arrives to visit me. More blog posts will follow.
Monday, November 08, 2010
Something funny happened on the way to The American University in Cairo
I can't even begin to describe what I see without including pictures of my daily commute.
A mosque in the middle of nowhere
Notice the contrasts of sand and grass between the first pictures . . . This is a land of contrasts.
Children playing a circle game
I'm sad to report that some of the more interesting human elements of Egyptian traffic are difficult and elusive to capture by camera, though they are not isolated events.
Notice the contrasts of sand and grass between the first pictures . . . This is a land of contrasts.
Poor
Rich
Children playing a circle game
I'm sad to report that some of the more interesting human elements of Egyptian traffic are difficult and elusive to capture by camera, though they are not isolated events.
Even today I saw five guys sleeping on the open bed of a semi-truck. They had no harnesses to keep them from rolling off onto the pavement below. More shocking is the frequent sight of laborers standing around or sitting on the back of trucks that are going about 50-60 mph.
A visual demonstration . . . look closely at the truck on the left.
There seems to be no concept of safety restraints here, and I always see toddlers climbing around the back seat of a car, or standing up in the front seat. I also see small children (as young as three years old) clinging onto their fathers for dear life on the backs of motorcycles. Mind you, they aren't wearing any kind of helmet.
I've also witnessed a whole truck bed filled with freshly sheered sheep, all neck deep in their own tresses. This wasn't nearly as startling as the van transporting cows on their way to slaughter, or the paddywagon filled with at least a dozen prisoners hanging pathetically onto barred windows and staring longingly at the outside world.
And another day in this strange country goes by . . .
Saturday, November 06, 2010
Untitled, but not Un-opinionated
My tenth week in Egypt has involved such a jumble of events, that I don't have a unifying theme, and so it will remain title-less.
Topic One:
Judith Butler (!!!) --- Queer theory in a conservative Islamic country.
As a gender studies enthusiast, I geeked out majorly on this one.
In a shocking turn of events, Judith Butler, a leader in the field of gender theory (as well as a myriad of other theoretical fields) gave two lectures at The American University in Cairo. What deeply impressed me about her lecture on Gender and Performativity, was the diversity of those in attendance. Along with American liberals and Egyptian queer radicals, there were many women in hijab. I sat next to one such woman, who by all outward appearance, is a devout Muslim. Every time Dr. Butler said something potentially shocking about transgender or LGBT issues, or the fluidity of gender, I peered out the corner of my eye to catch her reaction. Yet she, like the perhaps thirty or more "hijabed" women in the room listened intently and open-mindedly to what this Jewish, lesbian, queer theorist had to say about the realm of gender theory. I thought about a scenario in which a group of evangelical Christians would be listening as reverently to Judith Butler, and I could not conceive of any place in space or time where that event would occur. The world does not give enough credit to the majority of Muslims.
The lecture itself was fascinating, and brought me into a realm of thinking that was elevated far beyond my normal level of contemplation. I have to admit that I agree with a lot of critiques on her work. She seems to relish being inaccessible to the common people, and she dives directly into the comparison of concepts (in this case, performativity and precarity) without first defining or providing examples to illustrate these terms.
I won't even begin to try and summarize her lecture for you, though I was better able to cling on to her argument for most of the two-hour long ride than the majority of the audience.
Perhaps of interest to you would be that she touched on some interesting debates and offered insights into current world issues. These included the banning of the niqab, face veil, in France. On this topic, she mused on the utter paradox of feminists in favor of armed police suppressing the public movement of a female minority. (Niqab-wearing women can be arrested and deported if they appear in public). Isn't this just as oppressive as the situation (a woman being forced to veil)that they wish to prevent?
Another issue was a recent rally in which a group of Mexican immigrant laborers demonstrated in California by singing the American national anthem in Spanish. She pondered on the interesting situation in which a group of people who have no rights under American law assembled, thereby asserting and creating a right they do not have, and sang an almost sacred nationalistic creed in a prohibited language. She revered this as radical and good.
All in all, the night was a success, and re-affirmed my love of gender theory.
Topic 2: A lamentation on the deplorable decline of children's television programming in the 21st century
This weekend I babysat for my Lawrence professors' children, who are bright, creative six-year-olds. That is why I was deeply saddened to have to watch the crap that television has to offer them. I remember the days when I was their age, in the early to mid-1990's when I was lucky enough to enjoy a renaissance in youth programming. The herald of this silver screen flourishing was none other than my beloved Nickelodeon. I admit that when I was a kid, I was quite a television junky. My little face would be pressed up against my dad's big screen t.v. for many afternoon and evening hours to watch "Clarissa Explains it All", "Rocko's Modern Life", "The Adventures of Pete & Pete", "Are You Afraid of the Dark?", "The Secret World of Alex Mac", "Shelby Woo", "All That", "Ren and Stimpy", "Angry Beavers", "Hey Arnold!", "Salute Your Shorts" and many other shows that have since slipped into obscurity over the last decade and half. In their place are mind numbing, poorly computer-generated (or Disney over-marketed) crapfests that make Spongebob look like Masterpiece Theater. What happened to the shows that children as well as adults can enjoy? Where are the programs that incite some brainwaves in children, and provide humorous insight into society? The world of television seems to have lost its sophistication, and we are left to witness the sad outcome.
Topic One:
Judith Butler (!!!) --- Queer theory in a conservative Islamic country.
As a gender studies enthusiast, I geeked out majorly on this one.
In a shocking turn of events, Judith Butler, a leader in the field of gender theory (as well as a myriad of other theoretical fields) gave two lectures at The American University in Cairo. What deeply impressed me about her lecture on Gender and Performativity, was the diversity of those in attendance. Along with American liberals and Egyptian queer radicals, there were many women in hijab. I sat next to one such woman, who by all outward appearance, is a devout Muslim. Every time Dr. Butler said something potentially shocking about transgender or LGBT issues, or the fluidity of gender, I peered out the corner of my eye to catch her reaction. Yet she, like the perhaps thirty or more "hijabed" women in the room listened intently and open-mindedly to what this Jewish, lesbian, queer theorist had to say about the realm of gender theory. I thought about a scenario in which a group of evangelical Christians would be listening as reverently to Judith Butler, and I could not conceive of any place in space or time where that event would occur. The world does not give enough credit to the majority of Muslims.
The lecture itself was fascinating, and brought me into a realm of thinking that was elevated far beyond my normal level of contemplation. I have to admit that I agree with a lot of critiques on her work. She seems to relish being inaccessible to the common people, and she dives directly into the comparison of concepts (in this case, performativity and precarity) without first defining or providing examples to illustrate these terms.
I won't even begin to try and summarize her lecture for you, though I was better able to cling on to her argument for most of the two-hour long ride than the majority of the audience.
Perhaps of interest to you would be that she touched on some interesting debates and offered insights into current world issues. These included the banning of the niqab, face veil, in France. On this topic, she mused on the utter paradox of feminists in favor of armed police suppressing the public movement of a female minority. (Niqab-wearing women can be arrested and deported if they appear in public). Isn't this just as oppressive as the situation (a woman being forced to veil)that they wish to prevent?
Another issue was a recent rally in which a group of Mexican immigrant laborers demonstrated in California by singing the American national anthem in Spanish. She pondered on the interesting situation in which a group of people who have no rights under American law assembled, thereby asserting and creating a right they do not have, and sang an almost sacred nationalistic creed in a prohibited language. She revered this as radical and good.
All in all, the night was a success, and re-affirmed my love of gender theory.
The crowd eagerly awaiting Dr. Butler's lecture
Topic 2: A lamentation on the deplorable decline of children's television programming in the 21st century
This weekend I babysat for my Lawrence professors' children, who are bright, creative six-year-olds. That is why I was deeply saddened to have to watch the crap that television has to offer them. I remember the days when I was their age, in the early to mid-1990's when I was lucky enough to enjoy a renaissance in youth programming. The herald of this silver screen flourishing was none other than my beloved Nickelodeon. I admit that when I was a kid, I was quite a television junky. My little face would be pressed up against my dad's big screen t.v. for many afternoon and evening hours to watch "Clarissa Explains it All", "Rocko's Modern Life", "The Adventures of Pete & Pete", "Are You Afraid of the Dark?", "The Secret World of Alex Mac", "Shelby Woo", "All That", "Ren and Stimpy", "Angry Beavers", "Hey Arnold!", "Salute Your Shorts" and many other shows that have since slipped into obscurity over the last decade and half. In their place are mind numbing, poorly computer-generated (or Disney over-marketed) crapfests that make Spongebob look like Masterpiece Theater. What happened to the shows that children as well as adults can enjoy? Where are the programs that incite some brainwaves in children, and provide humorous insight into society? The world of television seems to have lost its sophistication, and we are left to witness the sad outcome.
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