A Brief Personal Update

So mentally, the second week is tougher than the first. I got what I’ve been referring to as ‘traveler’s guilt’ because I haven’t been to the big sites yet. I have, however, been eating a lot of great food and trying to make connections here at the university. I’ve also experienced my first pangs of homesickness.

I finalized my schedule. I’m in Arabic for 11 hours a week, and my other classes are Economic History of the Middle East, Islam, and Islamic Philosophy. I was in Sufism, but I thought 3 classes specifically on Islam might drive me a tad batty. I thrive in diverse environments.

This weekend I’m going up to Alexandria and hopefully hit most of the sites there. I have an open invitation from my roommate to stay with her family there, so I’ll hopefully venture back before my time here is done, inshallah.

Last week there was a Fakhfakhina, which was basically a big party,  I got to employ my Middle Eastern dancing learned this past summer at Middlebury. I’ll probably join the Folkloric Dance Club to foster my interest and make some Egyptian friends. Also thinking about Scuba Diving, because they take you to Sharm al-Sheikh for your dives.

Other than that, I’ve been a bit tired and under the weather as I try to acclimate to the air quality. The smoke and pollution aren’t exactly agreeing with me.

If you didn’t know, the business week here is from Sunday through Thursday, so tomorrow is my last day of classes for the week. Hopefully I’ll do something fun in the afternoon, and I’ll be able to report back on new and exciting things.

Masr al-Qadima

At first, I thought I would see Humphrey Bogart walking out of one of the Hollywood-esque coffee shops, seedy souvenir traps, or sheesha bars. Boys toting wears and weathered old women peddling charms, trinkets and scarves ask for bakshiish. This looked like Casablanca. Before I had time to be disappointed, Coptic Cairo lived up to its Arabic name, Masr al-Qadima, or “Old Egypt”.

Here, all the branches of Cairo’s long and varied history visibly intermingle, with foundations constructed on top of foundations and religious buildings enjoy equal historical value, even though the adherents of such faiths battle out their differences daily. An amazing amount of history spanning not centuries but millenniums awaits pilgrims and tourists alike.

One thing that I had never heard in all my years of Sunday school and regular church attendance was the story of Mary, Joseph and Jesus high-tailing it out of Judea and their subsequent vacation in Egypt after the whole Herod debacle. Somewhere between making paper Advent wreaths and memorizing the Nicene Creed it got put on the back-burner. Who knew that’s what the Feast of the Holy Family was all about? Not I.  Maybe I’m just revealing my ignorance, so we’ll move on.

Anyway, back home we have places whose claim to fame is that George Washington slept there. Well, Egypt’s one of those countries who can put little plaques on their  landmarks that say JESUS slept here. In Old Cairo, a there is a small church named after St. Sergius. Built in the 4th century A.D., it’s Cairo’s oldest church, and marks the place where the Holy Family rested at the end of their flight from Judea (this is very briefly mentioned in the Book of Matthew, and more extensively cited in Apocrypha. I checked). Unfortunately, the 1992 earthquake (the only earthquake in Egypt since 1552) damaged much of the infrastructure and much of the building had to be re-constructed. But squeezing into a four-foot-tall enclave, I saw the original well where the Holy Family is thought to have drank, and even my skeptical self was made to pause in wonder.

This Church is located in the middle of a Greek Orthodox graveyard (after all, how sacredly awesome is it to be buried next to where Jesus slept!?). Also nearby is the Church of St. George. Built in the Byzantine style indicative of Greek Orthodox architecture, this was built in 684 and is still used for weddings. The iconography and ceiling detail was absolutely breath-taking. Every culture seems to adopt St. George as their own. Most of us in the West identify him as the patron saint of England, but he appears in national Christian myth in Spain, France, Germany, Turkey, and the Coptic Church maintains that he was Egyptian. In actuality, St. George is buried in Israel in a marked tomb that people can frequent today.

The last church I visited was the Coptic marvel Al-Muallaqa, or The Hanging Church, owing its appellation to its construction in the 7th century over a former Roman Fortress and a former 4th century church. They cut away a section of the floor so that you can still see the Roman foundations. Coptic symbolism in the architecture is quite fascinating. One unique characteristic found in most Coptic churches are the 12 pillars that surround the periphery of the sanctuary. All are white marble except for one black, representing Judas and his betrayal. Additionally, the pulpit is supported by 10 pillars to symbolize the 10 commandments. The Coptic Christians in Cairo today are a visible minority, and a maltreated one at that. They receive abuse in taxis in the form of verbal insults, higher rates, or refusal of services. A large group of Copts remains outside the city in Garbage City, where they pick through trash to find the most re-usable refuse. Essentially, the Copts were pocket of resistance when Egypt converted to Islam in 642, and haven’t been forgiven for it ever since.

Apparently Jesus wasn’t the only religious celebrity to lay claim to Old Cairo. Behind the Synagogue Ben Ezra, Egypt’s oldest synagogue (built 98 A.D.), is a well that Moses is supposed to have used. Not likely, in my historical opinion, but the synagogue itself was well worth the trip. There are about 200 Jewish families left in all of Egypt (200 that will report themselves to census-takers, anyway). Of the 22 mosques in Cairo, only one remains open, the Sha’ar Hashamayim synagogue downtown.

The final stop was the Amr Ibn al-As Mosque, the oldest mosque in all of Egypt and the African continent. Frankly, this was a big deal, because I had never been in a mosque before. Even after my copious study of Islamic culture, religion, and Arabic, I felt thoroughly unprepared to enter. This was a place that was erected in the year Islam came to Egypt (642 AD) by Egypt’s conqueror, Amr Ibn al-As and marks the edge of Fustat, the temporary city he founded. This was not only a center for prayer, but Islamic learning and jurisprudence.  The ornate splendor of the churches and synagogue I saw earlier could not compare to the simple geometric beauty of the mosque. If one were really intent on contemplating their God and nothing but the divine, I can see why people go here.

It felt stupid to take pictures, and I took umbrage at the people who trundled across the marble courtyard yelling to friends and snapping photos with each other.  I checked my expectations, assumption, and knowledge at the door with my shoes, and covered my head as required. I felt out of place, but not unwelcome. Listening to the tour guide, I detected a few inaccuracies when he, a Sunni Muslim, spoke about the differences between Shi’a and Sunni sects. When one girl spoke up argumentatively and tried to correct him, I became angrier than I have been in a long time.

Ignorance is not an acceptable excuse for making bad decisions or harboring prejudices, and I cannot condone the proliferation of inaccurate information. But this man was trying his best to educate a group of students who, ostensibly, came to learn about Cairo’s culture. Egypt has taken Sunni Islam and run with it. It’s the dominant religion, and a lot of people are astonishingly informed about their faith, a phenomenon I find to be untrue in the United States. But in that time and place, when this guy who knew less about Shiism than he probably should have was trying to promote peaceful understanding between religions, a mosque was not the proper place to break that peace in lieu of academic squabbling. However, I did get a little miffed when the dude said non-religious people are inherently bad people.

One last interesting note is about cultural proliferation. One of the best greetings I’ve received in my brief time here is “Aloha Yankee Doodle!” from a peddler outside St. George. Honestly! If you asked some Americans what Yankee Doodle was, they’d probably give you blank stare, or if you’re in New York, a “F*** You!” before they moved on with their day.  How did this Egyptian woman learn about that piece of American culture? And Aloha? I can’t believe I heard that in Egypt either. Regardless, this brief trip was illuminating, profound, and exasperating on many levels, and I definitely left understanding much less about Cairo than when I came.

Ma hiya al-Akhbar?

Tensions were high and tempers flared as angry looks spread around the room.

“Two weeks?” objected the girl to my left. “That’s ridiculous. How are we supposed to last that long?”

“You’d think they’d be able to do something about it faster,” came an indignant addendum from somewhere in back. Conspiracy theories and pleas for the US Embassy to get involved were tossed into the pool of conversation and fueled the already mounting distress.

For those of you who don’t know, Egypt and much of the Middle East are bereft of external internet connection due to a cut cable in the Mediterranean. I’ve heard more reasons and stories than I care to recount, though I, too, am inclined to gab because I haven’t been able to gain access to any major news site, even al-Jezeera, to ascertain exactly what happened.

The dilemma started last night with a complete inability to access non-Egyptian websites. For example, Google and www.auceygpt.eduwithout delay. Other American favorites like Facebook, MySpace, and CNN were inaccessible. My roommate and I passed the time watching movies and getting to know one another. Frankly, despite the nervousness of being all but cut off from communication with the States, it undoubtedly better and more valuable than mindless web-surfing.

 How did we lose internet, and what does it mean? The way the internet works is that computers communicate with each other through a physical connection to an internet service provider (ISP). Various local connections flow into a pool of modems which then ascend upward in an ever increasing hierarchy of regional networks, Network Service Providers, and Network Access Points (NAPs)/Metropolitan Area Exchanges (MAEs). Packets of information are delivered from computer to computer by a router through this system.

The issue here, if my information is correct and not just one of Egypt’s many rumors, then the traffic normally routed by ISPs through these cables can no longer travel through these Internet Exchange Points, thus preventing Egypt, India, and much of the Middle East to experience either a crawl or all out stop, like here in Cairo. A similar situation was experienced in East Asia following earthquakes in Taiwan. Word on the street is that we’ll be fully functioning again in about 2 weeks.

Obviously it’s no longer that serious, as you’re reading this missive. I can happily report that AIM and Skype are functioning semi-normally (couldn’t log on yesterday), and my email is mostly reliable. I’m going slightly stir crazy without news, especially my daily dose of Arabic happenings, but Egyptians love to talk and always seem to know what’s going on, so I’ll be content to sift through gossip for now.

A follow up to my previous entry:

Taxi cabs are a reality and a necessity in Cairo. While a shuttle runs from my dorm to campus, and I can usually catch it to and from class, there are times when cabs are not only most convenient, they are the only option. Negotiating price is an art and the way things work. You haggle for basically everything here, unless you’re given a set price on a menu. If I name a price and the driver disagrees, I wave him on and wait for the next option. The price for a taxi ride to Zamalek from AUC should ostensibly cost anywhere from 5 to 10 LE, with the upper limit being acceptable only if the traffic is uncommonly dense. What happened in the cab was not dangerous, just awkward and it was a very sharp cultural disconnect. I never take a cab alone, and I asked an Egyptian friend how best to debate the price with a driver politely and adamantly. Lesson learned.

In short, cabs are fine if you’re savvy and let them know you’ve got their number.

Plus, when CNN.com fails, the cab’s my number one source for news.

Occupational Hazards

“Warden Message:

The situation in the Gaza border area in Northern Sinai remains unsettled.  Egyptian police are making efforts to control the border with Gaza, but it remains largely open.  The Embassy is currently restricting non-official travel of U.S. personnel to the Gaza border area, Rafah and Al Areesh, and recommends private U.S. citizens avoid travel to those areas as well.”

After a long Tuesday, staying up to greet Wednesday’s new morning did not sound appealing. AUC sponsored a student trip to a salsa club and rented out the top floor for our exclusive use. After a few hours of trying (and failing) to find a competent salsero to practice my Latin ballroom with, I employed the more fluid Middle Eastern dance moves I learned this summer at Arabic school.  Needless to say, by 1 o’clock, I was tired. Even though I was roped into going to the Nile Hilton, I soon hailed another taxi with 2 friends to return to Zamalek.

A rounder man slunk up to our group offering, “25 pounds to Zamalek.” An outrageous price, when the norm should be 4-6, extending the upper limit to 10 in case of heavy traffic. I authoritatively refused in Arabic, put took up the second offer for 10 pounds.

The ride was an experience. Taxis barrel down roads with little regard to other cars or pedestrians, almost as if the driver couldn’t care less about the state of his own vehicle. Maybe he doesn’t. Maybe it’s one way to release the frustration that comes with living in Cairo.

Our drive got lost several times, stopping to ask the corner guards where Maraashly Church was, getting several, conflicting directions from anyone standing near. When we finally arrived our destination, my companions made to exit the cab, while I stayed behind to pay. When he saw my 10 pound note, he refused, saying that he upped his price to 20.

Here’s where I froze. The protocol for taxis is that if they stay in the car to argue with you, then you have in fact paid enough, and they’re just trying to scam you. If they get out the car and follow you, yelling, then you have shorted them and need to pay up immediately. My late night quandary was that if I had gotten out of the car, would he follow? My friends started to refuse, saying that we were on Zamalek, and 10 pounds was the agreed price. I voiced my assent in Arabic, but after 3 minutes of fevered debate, we relented and forked over the twenty.

My first few days in Cairo have been characterized by a constant, unsettling undercurrent. I chalked it up to my inexperience with travel and inherent cultural differences of which I had been forewarned. My personal space or security has yet to be tried or threatened, and nor to I really expect it to be. I don’t know if I’ve made this clear, but I loved Egypt and Egyptians before my trip to AUC even became a possibility. But my experience in the taxi, and the quoted message from the US Department of State above enforced the fact that no matter how much I love this language, people, and country, I do not belong here. There are so many visceral things connect the society, associations as Egyptians, Arabs, Muslims, that I can’t begin to approach. But although I could appropriately be called “a stranger in a strange land,” my welcome is genuine and enthusiastic.

Now if only our internet worked.

Mashallah!

I have not had “Western” food since arriving. My new favorite Egyptian dish is called “Koshrii”, known in American girl terms as “Carb Heaven”. It consists of rice, pasta, lentils, chickpeas, fried onions, and tomato sauce. Beyond that, there is a yellow sauce (lemon) and a red sauce (kill-yourself spicy) that you can add on at your leisure. There’s a spot on Shariah al-Tahrir, about a minute’s walk from campus that serves Koshrii and only Koshrii.

That’s a trend I’ve noticed among restaurants here: they all have specialty. You go to one place for falafel, another for shwarma, and still another for mukhayara.

 Another inescapable observation is the abundance of felines. I challenge you to go anywhere in Cairo and not see at least 3 cats. Seriously. Cats are to Cairo what pigeons are to New York. This is probably not the best metaphor, as pigeons are edible here. I hope cats aren’t edible in New York.

 Cairo-lung is starting to catch up with me. I don’t understand how people can continuously smoke cigarettes and shishah and cope with the smog.

Another obstacle has been my Arabic. My study of the language has been by no means extensive, but I can hold a good conversation in what is known as fusha, or Modern Standard Arabic. This is the Arabic you hear on al-Jazeera or read in the Qur’an and newspapers. However, when you tell the falafel guy about yourself in fusha, you get some pretty astonished and confused looks. So I’m currently enrolled in a ‘Survival Arabic’ course that lasts until Saturday. It’s taught by all CASA professors. For those of you unfamiliar with that program, it’s the premier international Arabic Language program. Highly selective, the AUC CASA program admits only a few students a year. For those lucky enough to have been chosen, there is no tuition. Alhamdulilah! After a few hours of class today, I already feel much more comfortable with the dialect. The patterns are easy to pick up on, especially having studied so much fusha. At least the shwarma vendors seemed pleased with my progress.

Ahlan wa Sahlan bikum ilaa Misr

It would stand to reason that in a city that gets about 25 mm of rain annually, that it would rain the day I arrive in Cairo.

 I’m happy report that the rain did not damper my spirits in the least. In fact, as Cairo is notoriously polluted, the rainfall probably eliminated much of the characteristic smog.

I made myself stay awake as we crossed the Mediterranean, wanting to see the African continent as we approached our final destination. My first observation was that Egypt is a land of quadrilaterals. Urban blobs are dolloped amidst carefully planed, equal sized plots of land that grid across the landscape until hindered by either desert or cities. Houses stand solitary and abandoned, while others boast huge parks and swimming pools. Even from 25,000 feet, you can see the huge difference between rich and poor.

The ride to dorm from the airport was one of the most unique experiences of my life. Deciding to ignore the traffic and let the driver handle our fates, my biggest problem became which window to look out of: left or right. It’s too much to digest, certainly in one car trip. I’m not sure I’ll have digested much before my four months are up, either. Suffice it to say, I love this place.

Cairo (what little I’ve seen of it) is everything I expected it to be. It’s crowded, traffic regards no lanes, the houses are all at once grimy and decrepit, glamorous and dignified (depending on what neighborhood you’re in). I’m hoping to meet some more Egyptians, though I’ve heard the AUC students are less likely to make friends with study abroad kids, as they’re just going to leave in a few months anyway. Part of the furniture. Though, if the man who processed my passport is any indication, I think I’ll get along fine. (After saying massah al-kheer, and chatting with him about being a student of Islamic Studies and Arabic (wa lakin lasti muslima, ya Allison!), he said that he hoped to see me again soon. Oh Egyptian men.) That, and the AUC representative said he liked my Arabic. “I have confidence in me.”

 I’m living in Zamalek, a delta in the middle of the Nile where the embassies and foreign neighborhoods are located. It’s peppered with small hole-in-the-wall shops and restaurants, though I was taken slightly aback to see a sign for Siemen’s furniture as we turned off the highway.

(Zamalek)

I can now say that I am indeed a traveller. I had a crawling feeling in my stomach over the past day as I bumbled my way awkwardly and uncertainly through airports (trying to look completely certain and certainly not awkward). After rolling my two unwieldly bags over a business man’s expertly polished shoe at JFK (again), exasperating flight attendants with my indecision between coffee or tea, and planting myself in the wrong seat on the airplane, I decided that I was just going to have to accept the fact that I was out of place, if only just for now.

So as I settled down on the plane, unable to sleep, I read Wuthering Heights while mentally noting how much of the Egypt Air announcements I could glean. After chastising an unnamed Egyptian boy for trying to steal my complimentary cookie (3ib, ya walad!) and chatting to his mother in careful (but steady) Arabic, I have confidence that I’ll orient myself just fine.

After I get some sleep.

Of decisions

Categorically speaking, I’m good at decisions. I make them all the time. For example, I decide to catch an extra half-hour of sleep that could be spent on hair and make-up every morning. Without fail. Good decision.

 My decision to go to Cairo for 4 months, in my opinion, is also a good one. From February to June, I will be studying Islamic Studies and Arabic at the American University in Cairo. Choosing to go on a trip to study language and culture was as easy as rolling over and ignoring my alarm clock, because sleep and language are two things that make me unequivocally happy.

 Unlike forgoing make-up or sporting bed-head, however, the travel-decision was a lot more work-intensive than I gave it credit for. Never having left the USA, my unassailable notion that I would study abroad my junior year of college had several gaping holes that render me a very un-savvy traveller. Concerning inoculations, visas, packing, and most of all, finances, I was a proverbial sitting duck. Yet somehow I’ve muddled through my vaccinations (even though they might not be 100% effective), procured my visa (thanks to a haphazard D.C. trip), and signed my name 45 times to become the proud owner of traveller’s checks.

 Packed and set to leave on Friday, January 25th, I will transverse the Atlantic and breath in Mediterranean air (through the plane’s filtration system), taking my first motion toward my goal of global citizenship.

I suppose my only decision left now is whether to brush my hair before I go.

Good travel tips from a novice:

-Make sure you get all your active immunizations either at the same time OR leave a 30 day grace period between shots so that they are fully operational. For example, my yellow fever vaccination has a decreased potency because the physicians some how never communicated to me that I needed to take my typhoid pills at the same time. Maa’lesh.

-Extended travel in the Middle East often requires that you procure visas for each destination before you leave. Because I didn’t hear from my program until December, I only had time to get the Egyptian visa, even though I had wanted to get Jordanian and Syrian visas, as well. Make sure each visa is multiple-entry, just to be on the safe side.

-If you’re going to any foreign country that has dubious water systems, or even if you’re pretty sure you’ll catch a bug due to foreign pathogens, bring straws and use bottled water to brush your teeth. That way you can try and cut down on the amount of tap-water consumed.

-If you’re going to pack heavy for an extended stay, make sure you leave room in your suitcase for purchases made in the country.

 Expect more jitters and news from your intrepid traveller as her departure looms near. Here’s a clip from YouTube that I think captures the unique nature of the city: Traffic jam with the Call to Prayer in the background:

 Maa’ alife salaama,

Allison