A Blustery Day on the Bosphorous

I woke up to the faint sound of a light rain pattering on my window. Usually I would be disappointed by this type of weather, but its exoticism appealed to me. I don't even remember the last time I felt rain on my skin or temperatures lower than seventy degrees.
After a filling breakfast, I decided to enjoy this cool October day by walking back to the bustling part of the city to change money. The rain had stopped, and a quiet sunlight edged through the thick clouds. There was a damp wind gusting in from the sea, and I thought I was in heaven.
Then it started to rain again: it was a torrential downpour of epic proportions. I took refuge in a mall, but knew I had to get back to my hotel for a tour, so I bought a cheap umbrella and headed back, making it just in time for my tour guide to pick me up.
My excursion today was a guided cruise on the Bosphorous, the channel between the Black and Marmara Seas. It is also the point at which Asia meets Europe. Joining me on the tour was a forty-something American man who lives and works in Saudi Arabia, a British soft butch and her Indian girlfriend, and then our Turkish tour guide. I liked that our group was more cosmopolitan and international than the many large and sheeplike American tour groups that I had seen milling around the city- the suburban men wearing their short pants with socks and sandals (oh the humanity) and their wives who screeched across crowded marketplaces something along the lines of, "Hey Herald, they have goat cheese and sheep skins for sale here!". Face palm.
Even though the weather was not ideal for a cruise, we had a jolly time. The scenery was beautiful, making me want to stay here even longer. Most of the city beyond the center is forested, and many wealthy Turks build cottages and lodges along the Bosphorous. There were also mansions, the sultan's palace, mosques, churches, and a Byzantine fortress that was overtaken by the Ottomans in the 15th century.

The sultan's palace.
The fortress.

The group was so small, and the cruise so long that we were able to hold a decent conversation. The man told us that Saudi Arabia basically sucks, and that as soon as possible he would try and leave. Originally from Houston, he has been living in the Kingdom for two years as an accountant for Aramco and resides in an expat compound in a smaller city of Khafji. When I told him I was studying in Egypt, he remarked (without any prompts) that Cairo was horribly dirty, but that Saudi Arabia is not much better. The worst parts about it, he explained are the lack of natural beauty, dirtiness, and the extreme and unparalleled gender segregation. He remarked that his office building does not even have a womens' bathroom. And I thought Egypt was bad . . .
After the cruise was over, we went to two mosques that were built approximately five hundred years ago. The first one looked exactly like the mosque of Mohammed Ali in Cairo (who was an Ottoman), but the second one was charming and small with special Turkish tiles throughout. I neglected to bring a headscarf, so I had to borrow one. Thankfully, it was clean and pressed, and the loan scarves came in many colors so I got to choose one that best fit my outfit. Some people have asked if I am bothered by veiling, but in reality, I feel that (at least in religious spaces) it is a sign of cultural respect. Veils were mandatory in catholic churches until Vatican II, and most other Abrahamic religions require headcoverings for men and women. The veil has become so politicized (for good reason in many cases where it is forced upon women in some fundamentalist countries), but I feel that a woman should have the choice whether to veil or not. For many women, the choice to veil is empowering.
The first mosque.

The second mosque.
Me.

After the tour I planned to go and see a Sufi music concert and whirling dervish performance in the downtown Sultanahmet area. When I walked there, however, I learned that the show was sold out. I was disappointed, but I had a backup plan. When I visited the bazaar down the street from my hotel, there was a large open air cafe with billboards advertising live music and a dervish performance. I was skeptical about its quality, but decided to go, thinking that at the very least I would have a satisfying meal. When I got there, the place was packed with Turks, and the music had already started. Then the dirvish man appeared. His twirling was hypnotic, and his eyes were half-open in a trance-like gaze. He moved rhythmically to the drumbeats as he alternately raised and lowered his hands, experiencing the intoxication of God.

The music continued for two and half hours, during which I ordered a "pancake" that was really a spinach crepe, some tea, and an apple-flavored water pipe. (Yes, for you Austin Powers fans: I had a smoke and a pancake).
The experience was amazing. I smoked (something that will not become a habit) to stave away the bone-chilling cold, and read a book that I had brought from home. A few older American couples at the cafe were charmed by my smoking hookah and took pictures of me on their cameras (and mine) to tell their friends about the little girl who picked up the waterpipe for the first time just to have the experience.




Did I also mention, that I didn't know how to use it, which tickled the waiters immensely."You haven't smoked before?", they asked amused at my naivete.
When the music ended, and the embers were dying in my pipe, I decided to call it a night, saying a brief goodbye to a cafe that provided me with an unforgettable evening.

Turkish bath

Warning: This post contains slightly embarrassing situations. Proceed with caution.

A nagging curiosity got the better of me, so I decided to put aside all of my American modesty and went to a Turkish bath. Every guide book and internet site declared that in order to get a true Turkish experience, you have to go to a hamami. For the most part, I am all for cultural immersion, and thought, 'though it may be awkward, this place is not going to kill me, so why avoid it?'. Therefore, I summoned up the courage and went.
A little bit of background first: Turkish baths are centuries-old institutions, and the particular bath that I chose was built in the 1400's. They can be compared to American spas (which was the appeal for me), because you can get manicures, pedicures, massages, and haircuts for cheap prices. Plus, they provide a relaxing atmosphere because they are architectural marvels that exude Ottoman charm and beauty. For Ottoman women, baths were a hub of social activity, because the hamami was often the only place that they were allowed to go outside of the house. There they could sit around and bathe, and chat with other women as a break from their seclusion within the home.
As I stood at the entrance, thinking about which treatment to get, I decided to go all out and get everything. Meanwhile, I prepared for the AWKWARD. Why, you ask? I was afraid that I would have to go the full monty. I soon learned that traditionally people bathed in the nude, but the major hamamis now provide bathers with special bikinis to wear (though many women decide to go topless). The baths are also gender segregated, preventing further awkward situations.
So I changed, and entered into the main bathing room, which is a domed heated chamber lit by skylights with hot water spigots all around. In the middle of the room is a circular stone slab that fit two dozen women lying down, as if sunbathing. A burly Eastern European woman, let's call her Brunehilda, came out of an adjacent chamber and barked at me to stretch out on the slab. Afraid to cross her, I scrambled onto the stone.
Then she started hurling buckets of hot water at me. I was trying so hard not to laugh at the oddity of this situation. Then she started slathering me with bubble bath foam and let me sit and soak. After a few minutes she came back and manhandled me until I was sitting upright, and then she dumped a bucket of hot water on my head. She was so scary! When my treatment was finally over, she led me to a warm pool where I was able to relax with some German women who were all topless and saggy (not a pretty picture), and then I had an amazing massage (not from Brunehilda). Later I dried off in a common room, surrounded by other women drinking tea or coffee, and reading or chatting with friends.
The experience is not one that I would recommend for the self-conscious and/or modest. It's an unholy cross between a nude beach and a spa, and the only way I was able to do it was to put all of my cultural inhibitions aside, and just go with the flow. I left feeling refreshed and glad that I braved the hamami, that although strange, did not kill me.

I'm a traveler, not a tourist

An Ottoman cemetery

Today was a spontaneous adventures in which I planned nothing, and let situations materialize. The day began with a splendid breakfast on the terrace of a nearby hotel, with views of the Bosphorous Sea and the Blue Mosque. Then I decided to just explore. My feet took me down side streets past ancient houses, through Sultanahmet Park, beside Hagia Sophia and The Blue Mosque. Then I found my way into a bustling downtown area where I walked right into an Ottoman cemetery. I stopped along the busy tramway thoroughfare to pick up a homemade Turkish sweet from a street stand, and freshly squeezed (in front of me) pomegranate juice. Later, I wandered back to Sultanahmet, and stood on an elevated platform to take pictures of the Blue Mosque in all its glory, when a troop of little girl dancers in full Turkish costume hopped up on a nearby stage and started dancing to the beat of a drum. I couldn't believe my luck!

Afterward, I was tired so I meandered back to my hotel where I took a nap, and then re-energized for some food. Just a few feet away from my hotel is a small cafe, and I sat down to have an eggplant and yogurt appetizer (tasty to the extreme) and a kebab plate (do you see a pattern here?) Nothing could really beat last night's meal, but it was, again, one of the best meals I've had in a long time. The waiter liked me so much that he gave me a vial of Turkish tea on the house.
And it didn't even cost me my honor. :)

Most Turkish men like me, which is rather bothersome, when I want to walk down the street in peace. I was reading on a website about women who were shocked at the street harassment in Istanbul, and I can only shake my head and wonder what they would think of Cairo. This is a much needed vacation from the leers and inappropriate comments I have endured from some Egyptian men.
Other than that, I have realized after numerous interaction with locals, that I pass for a Turk. In fact, most Turkish people think I am Turkish, and start speaking to me in their native tongue before noticing my confused express and switch to English. I like it.

The day isn't over, but I thought I would take advantage of a lull to write my blog entry. Now I'm planning on going to a Turkish bath, where hopefully I will have a not-too-traumatizing experience. I will write more later on that adventure.

A Turkish Delight on a Moonlit Night

Let me say up front, that Istanbul is one of the most amazing places that I have ever been in my entire life. I will qualify this statement later, but first I must relay the story of my journey. It is long, it is mostly unpleasant, but it provides great material.
Time- 5:30 am. I wake up to catch an early taxi to the airport. The ride is uneventful for a Cairo taxi (the cab has seatbelts and there are no "near" collisions). However the cab driver charges me not only for time he stopped to get gas, but also the gas itself. It was only $1 approx, but it's the principle of the thing.
Next, I get to the Cairo airport and experience great confusion over where to check-in, and am passed around from ticket booth to ticket booth until someone figures out that the check-in counter I want is not open. So much for getting to the airport early. In true Egyptian fashion, the ticket booth employees arrive only an hour before boarding time.
A side note: I spent about two hours waiting for the check-in counter to open, and was wowed by the cleverness of the flight announcements. Before announcing a flight to France, they would play Edith Piaf, for Italy, Andrea Boccelli, for Spain, matador music, and so on and so forth.

When I get to the gate, I sit down and wait some more and then the power goes out in the airport. Again, typically Egypt.
The seating area is filled with a group of Japanese who amusedly watch overdramatic Egyptian soap operas, and again I think about the strange situations that globalization creates.
When I finally get on the plane, I am seated next to a most temperamental Australian, who rudely yells at the woman behind him for pushing his seat when she is settling her bags underneath. For the rest of the flight, he continues to be unpleasant.
But it doesn't really matter, because I get to see amazing views of the Mediterranean and Turkey. After being deprived of natural beauty for so long, I almost cry when we pass over the blue sea sparkling with the reflection of the sun, and the Anatolian mountains reaching up into the clouds.

I also get to eat one of the most amazing meals (Turkish airplane food) that I have had in the last two months. That's not saying very much for Egyptian cuisine, by the way.
When I arrive in Turkey, I obtain my visa in thirty seconds flat, but have to wait for almost an hour to go through a passport check. Then when I leave customs, I see dozens of people waving signs for passenger pick-up, but I do not see my name. After half an hour I almost give up hope, and ask a tourist information desk worker about alternate routes to my hotel. He suggests the subway, and I politely decline, and decide to wait a little longer for my hotel shuttle. Fortunately, my persistance pays off.

(now I'm going to switch to past tense, because I'm tipsy, and I'm not sure I can handle present tense any longer . . . too confusing!)
Good thing I waited, because I was able to enjoy the company of a Swiss woman and her teenage son who are vacationing at my hotel and had just arrived from Zurich for their week long getaway.
The ride was a long one despite the fifteen kilometer distance, and I was able to see Istanbul in the way only a long car ride can give. The city is very modern, very European, and (with Egypt as my reference point) very very clean. As for the people, we passed school girls, men in business suits, Aeropostle-clad teenagers, light-skinned mothers wearing hijab hurrying their blond children down the street, and women wearing short skirts and tight shirts. At the risk of sounding like an Orientalist, it really seems like a place where East meets West. Fitting for a city that straddles two continents and was once the focal point of an empire that stretched across three.
How do I describe Istanbul? Or, specifically the area around my hotel, that encompasses the "old city?" I would have to say, for those of you who have been to Georgetown, or another quaint cobblestone colonial (i.e. 17th, 18th century) neighborhood or city on a body of water; just imagine it with some Islamic architecture, and you pretty much have the general picture. In other words, it is adorable.

To end my day, I decided to treat myself to a celebratory dinner at a ethnic fusion restaurant right down the street from my hotel. The place was as nice as one of the trendiest restaurants in Manhattan, and the decor was very contemporary.

I ordered myself a nice glass of white wine, and a kebab platter with rice which was amazing, making it the second meal today that ranks on the top four meals I have eaten in the last two months.
For those of you interested, here's the list:
1) Marriot Hotel-Zamalek, Cairo
2) Mrs. Keshk's house- Maadi, Cairo
3) Dubb ethnic cuisine- Istanbul
4) Turkish airlines food- 40,000 feet above sea level.

Afterward, emboldened by a little bit of alcohol, I decided to walk the area around my hotel and found a Turkish bazaar. It was just what I would expect from a bazaar: oriental rugs, lanterns, scarves, statuettes, and plates. Though, it wasn't tacky . . .
It was truly enjoyable despite the fact that I got catcalls from Turkish men, who are not quite as hostile or aggressive in their pursuit of women ( a generalization, I know) as Egyptian men seem to be, but still a bit annoying. I got calls of "sweetheart, are you lost?" or just men calling from cafes saying "hello, hello, salud" or any other greeting in as many languages as they knew in order to get my attention. This, I find, is the unavoidable experience of being a single woman traveler.
Anyway, I can sum up my day as "exhausting", and my brief time in Istanbul as "amazing".

Turkey: It's not just a bird

Does anyone object to my writing about Turkey in a blog called "Ari in Egypt"? If you don't mind, that's exactly what I will be doing in less than a week. :)

After finding out that I actually have a five day weekend for Egyptian armed forces day, I spontaneously planned an entire trip to Istanbul (not Constantinople) by myself. YES, by myself. Everyone should calm down, though, because my hotel has arranged for my airport pickup, and I will be touring the old city and going on a four-hour cruise on the Black Sea with a tour group. I will also be going to a Turkish bath (sounds sketchy, I know) to sit in a hot tub the day after I arrive. Getting away from Egypt and experiencing another culture will improve my morale and bolster my ability to get by for the next two and a half months in Egypt. Hopefully I will get there and back with no problems (worries which plague my restless mind).

Planning this escape was the highlight of my week, and now the complaining will commence:

The reason that I have not written a blog entry for a few days is that there have been rolling blackouts across the city. Somehow, the outages screwed up the server so that I was not able to get online until a few hours after the power went back on. Even the entire AUC campus was blacked out for two hours, which made it very difficult for me to retrieve an essay that I sent to myself by e-mail. Thus, I barely made the deadline. (The teacher for that class is a psycho, and she most likely would not have considered the blackouts an excuse.)

Lack of sleep has also been a problem for me, because I barely got to rest last weekend, and I have been subsisting on five to six hours of sleep a night for the last two weeks. I literally felt like I was going to pass out in class on Wednesday. Therefore, I made the decision to opt out of an excursion to Mt. Sinai and St. Catherine's monastery. I learned that we would be leaving Thursday night on an overnight bus trip that would then drop us off at St. Catherine's, and later at 2:00 am we would start the two to three hour hike up the mountain to see the sunrise. I was really looking forward to this trip. However, my health is most important to me, and I thought about the sleep that I have already lost, plus the two nights I probably would not sleep on that trip, plus the two days of school that would follow, and then add on the four days in Istanbul. Also, for those of you who know me, I am not a hiker and I was not ready to re-enact my own private version of Troop Beverly Hills in the middle of the night in the Egyptian desert. All of these factors were part of my decision, and I don't regret it. The timing was just not right, though it is disappointing that I couldn't go.

Other complaints that I will keep brief:

1) No hot water for the last week and half. Though this problem is undermined by the fact that the temperature continues to be in the upper 90's.

2) I ordered a lunch that I thought would be a platter of falafel, ful (refried beans), eggs, and french fries only to discover that the meal was all of those items squished into a pita. It was truly revolting.

3) My bus driver didn't feel like running the 2:00p.m. route from school, so I had to wait another hour to go home.

4) The travel office at AUC could not even help me figure out how to arrange transport from my apartment to the Cairo airport for Tuesday.

Highlights that are worth mentioning (to counterbalance the complaints):

1) At the CSA (expat community center) I enjoyed a pasta dinner with WINE on Wednesday. The wine was truly delicious, but then I remembered that I had to walk all the way back to my apartment in the heat. Perhaps it was not the best idea, but it was a little slice of heaven.

2) I am about to sign up for a Thanksgiving trip with the CSA to the Bahariya oasis (a resort area) and the White desert. According to the brochure, the trip includes a bedouin night, swimming, a Thanksgiving party, a safari in the desert, and watching the sunset on a mountain that I don't have to climb. The price is reasonable for a three day trip, so I think that I will sign up.

3) I'm a rockstar in my Arabic class. This is probably because I am one of the only people who does homework, but I feel good about outshining people from better ranked institutions. It just goes to show that it doesn't matter where you go to school, it's what you make of it. Also, it shows that Lawrence is a first class institution of higher education, even if it does not have a widespread reputation.

4) Egypt turns the clocks back for "fall back" on October 1st, so I gained an hour of sleep this weekend.

That's about it for now. I have assuaged my guilt about not keeping up my blog, and now I will go to sleep. Goodnight.

Pyramids to piles of rubble

This post is dedicated to the sad sight of a rock heap that once was one of the first Ancient Egyptian pyramids. Rest in peace.
Yesterday I ventured to Saqqara, which is an Ancient Egyptian necropolis from the Old Kingdom (about 2500 B.C.E). The step pyramid at Saqqara was, in a way, a rough draft for the pyramids at Giza. Yet it is spectacular in its own right, and the overall experience of being there was more enjoyable than Giza, because it was less crowded, and the vendors were not as annoying. There will be pictures soon, but my internet is being temperamental. Check facebook for my album in the meantime.

Surrounding the pyramid are nobles' tombs, which stole the show. These tombs are hidden gems filled with intact carvings of daily life scenes including fishing, court dancing, and farming. Some carvings still had their color, but unfortunately the guards forbade me from taking pictures of them.
The best part of my tour (and also the scariest) was the tomb of King Titi (laugh now to get it out of your system . . . there you go). This tomb was not for the faint of heart, and about three people in my group couldn't go in because of their claustrophobia. Imagine trying to climb down a steep ramp into a four foot by four foot shaft going about thirty feet into the ground. Now imagine doing it in in a skirt. :D Then when you get to the very bottom of the shaft, the walkway is like a crawlspace that you have to bend over for about one hundred feet to get to a tomb. The whole experience creeped me out, and I kept thinking of those trapped Chilean miners, and how I didn't want to die in the tomb of a ridiculous king named Titi. In the end, the experience was worth the anxiety, because inside there were magnificent hieroglyphs carved all over the walls. Standing forebodingly in the midst of these carvings was the black granite sarcophogus of the king. Amazing.
I can laugh about it now, but on the way out of the tomb, I hit my head quite hard on the low ceiling of the walkway. I was fine, but as I said on facebook, it would have been the coolest concussion ever, and it would have made a great story. It already has.

Later in the day, I went to dinner at the home of a lovely Egyptian woman named Mrs. Keshk with whom I was put in contact by a cousin of mine (thanks Naomi!)
I arrived in style in the car that she ordered to pick me up (she, like many upper class Egyptians has a driver). Her two-story apartment was beautifully decorated with French antique furniture in the living room, and a Chinese table inlaid with irradescent mosaic pieces in the shape of fish in the dining room. Did I mention the apartment has a view of the Nile? The place was exquisite, which reflected the character of the woman herself. She was so sweet to me, and like a grandmother, urged me to eat more food than I could possibly eat in two or three days. After dinner, I was treated to chocolates from Saudi Arabic, tea, and cookies. Then she, her maid, and I watched Turkish soap operas dubbed in Arabic for the rest of the evening. We were all shocked when an unfortunate bride-to-be found her fiancee in bed with another woman on their wedding day. It was among the most fun visits I've had in Egypt, and I will definitely be going back.

Stay Tuned

Tomorrow there will be an in-depth blogpost. Now I need to go to bed after an epic day!