Thursday, February 28, 2008

you dig, cat??

I know I feel like I'm always promising posts. But for real, big stuff comin'. Had a long week complete with my first two classes teaching entry (and I mean entry) level English to African (from Sudan, Senegal, Ivory Coast, and Mali) refugees. More on that to come. Tomorrow is the SOS Music Festival on the other side of town. I'll have notes to report on that I'm sure.

But for now, let's get acquainted with one of my neighbors. This is Bellah:

She (I'm guessing) likes to eat my garbage. I gave her a name (which means "dates" on account of her color) because she is the most polite stray I've met so far. I have yet to be hissed at by her, and she meows at a reasonable volume, unlike other cats who we can hear screaming from the ground 5 stories up. Plus, she's actually cute. Most of the other cats are basically large feline rats.

Sunday, February 24, 2008

La la la, mafeesh!

Here’s my theory on the taxi situation in Cairo: the city owns all the taxis in the city and any citizen of Cairo is welcome to hop in an empty one and start charging people for rides. I can’t think of any other reason for so many taxi drivers to have no idea where anything is.

Yesterday, my roommates had a cabbie that had not heard of Virgin Mega Store, and then our friends got a cab that didn’t know where the Opera House was. But let’s take Friday as my example. I’d heard about a store with vinyl records somewhere in Mohandiseen, an area known for some good shopping districts for tourists and otherwise, especially along Mossadeq St. The only directions I found to this store, however, were, “Go to Mossadeq. Turn right at Hardee’s. Then take the first left and go until you find it.” As you might imagine, instructions like this are basically worthless in Cairo, but I was up for the adventure. Let’s see how it turned out…

(with cabbie in Arabic):
“Mohandiseen?”
“Sure. Where?”
“Mossadeq Street.”
“What?
“Mossadeq”
“No no, there is no Mossadeq in Mohandiseen.”
“Yes there is. Go to Doqi Street.”
“Then it’s in Doqi?”
“Sure.” (which is only a few blocks south of Mossadeq)
…
“This is Doqi Street.”
“Ok here is fine.”
“You want Doqi Square or Doqi Street?”
“Doqi street.”
“unintelligible muttering and pointing…”
“Is this Doqi Street??”
“Yes.”
“Then here is fine. ::getting out:: How much?”
(Unfortunately at this point he sees me pull a 10 from my pocket, and this ride should’ve cost around 5 or 6.)
“10 pounds.”
“No, I want change.”
“No, ten is good.”
“Fine. Whatever.”

After a half hour of walking up Doqi St. with which Mossadeq intersects, I noticed the street signs have changed and I’m no longer on Doqi St. Effectively giving up on finding the store, I figured I’d just keep exploring because I hadn’t been to that part of town yet. So I walk, and walk, and walk, and by some juice, and walk… eventually I miraculously find one of those big maps at a major intersection. Needless to say, I’d missed Mossadeq and walked about two miles in the wrong direction. After a good look at the map, however, I was back on my way. Found Mossadeq. Found Hardee’s. Took the first turn. Took the second. Walked two blocks and saw it, “Better Music” (in English).

Despite the name, the place turned out to be a little DVD rental shop, with one rack of CDs and a shelf of cassettes. The owner did not understand the words “vinyl” or “record”. As he was showing me some CDs of American rock bands I’d never heard of before, I noticed a clear plastic bag on the top shelf full of vinyl.

“Those!”
“ahhhh. Turntable?”
“Yes yes!”
“Oook, ::getting them out to show me one by one:: Joon Deenver?
“No.”
“Ehhh, Toom Joonz?”
“No.”
“Ahhh, Batsy Cline?”
“No.”
“ehhh, Neil Diomoond?”
“…Do you know where else I can buy turntable music in Cairo?”
“No. Virgin Mega Store? but no turntable there.”
“Nowhere else?”
“No.”
“Ok, you obviously have no idea what you’re talking about” “Thank you, good bye.”

Luckily my ride back home redeemed taxi drivers for the moment being.

“Tahrir Square?”
“Yes.” ..."Where in Tahrir?"
"Kasr el-Ainy."
"That is one way. Where on Kasr el-Ainy?"
"Right up here's fine."
"No no, where are you going? I'll get you closer."
"Alright, Hussein Hegazy Street, by the Co-Op gas station."
"Ok, right here."
“How much?”
“Oh, whatever. No problem. Five or six.”
(I gave him six.)

Sunday, February 17, 2008

so this is what all the tissue salesmen are for

A friend sent me this NYTimes article about the religiosity of the youth in Egypt to ask about my observations here in this regard. Once again however, the NYTimes doesn't blink in presenting a piece of blatantly sensational and Islamophobic writing. I couldn't really get past that enough to make any sound comparisons. Plus, I don't mean to get personal, but with all the lazy generalizations in this article, I couldn't help but smirk at the author's name: Michael Slackman.

First of all, the point of the article is to explain that in an economically struggling country such as Egypt, the poor and disenfranchised seek out alternative populist ideologies that distance themselves from economic stratification: here, religion. In other words, when something isn't working out for people, they look to somewhere else. This is an incredibly basic concept of sociology, and it doesn't take a journalist or scholar to figure it out. What catches me here is the insistence of using the word "Islam" rather than "religion" over and over again, despite that there is nothing in this trend that is particular to Islam, but as far as many journalists (and unfortunately, many readers) are concerned, "Islam" makes for a more interesting, exotic, and immediate topic than "religion".

So after the provocative headline, "Dreams Stifled, Egypt’s Young Turn to Islamic Fervor," the article sets out to describe Cairo as a wasteland of opportunity, a failed economy that is bearing down on the social fabric of its millions of citizens. Hopeless graduates are plunged into a desperate Islam, clamoring for identity after the failure of "Arabism, socialism, and nationalism." In opposition to this, I'll discuss the current resurgence of Arabism in an upcoming post, and if you think that nationalism here is a failure, I advise you to watch the videos of the prior post. (If that isn't a nationalist expression, I'm terrified to know what is.) But moving on, ending every personal story the author describes the subject's increase in religious observation as the direct result of some psychological/emotional ailment, whether they are chronically "bored" or generally "hurt." The description of their changes in practice come between the stories of economic hardship and mental frustration, as if being religiously observant is a symptom and something to lay our pity on. Combining that with the Islamic fixation, we get the implication that Islam is less of a legitimate religion and more of a pitiful symptom of depression. (Prejudice? in the US media? Where??)

"
Back in Cairo, every Friday, the Muslim day of prayer, Mr. Sayyid’s mother cooks him something special, so that when he returns from the mosque he has something to look forward to." ...because, of course, congregational prayer and social gathering are incredibly depressing...

"
In Egypt, where the people have always been religious and conservative..."
... .... ...what?

After the story of an observant Muslim: "He could walk unnoticed in the West." ..!!!!!!!
Lock your doors! Lock your doors, Westerners! There are people in the street who might be Muslim, and you don't know it! It could be anybody!


"Mr. Sayyid, are you now or have you ever been a member of the Muslim faith?"
Give me a break.

So what happens when young Cairenes read this article and challenge the author's generalizations? Someone writes a follow-up piece noting their youthful, near-sighted ignorance.
"The fact that they would not associate the two points is meaningful. This was the heart of the article: alienation from the public sphere is driving people towards religion, toward something they see as a private gesture at a moment where the sense of collective action is losing its meaning."
...On the contrary, religion is seen as a quite public endeavor here. People can be seen praying from the side of the street, to the market, to our campus. The author mentions the 'zebibah' ("raisin") that a surprisingly large number of older men don on their foreheads in Egypt to announce their adherence to daily prayer. Hardly a simple "private gesture."

Yes, there are some heavy duty economic problems in Egypt and the government is impenetrably corrupt. Yes, religious observation is growing here, as it has been since 1980 and as it is too in the West. There's no need to sensationalize this; I would very much contend the use of "fervor" in the headline. Returning to the issue of catch-word dropping, if it is an issue of specification, then it is really quite redundant to keep using "Islam" when you're talking about religion in Egypt when it is at least 85% Muslim. On the other hand, the significant Coptic Christian population here is not mentioned at all. They must all be rich and emotionally sound.

I only read this article online, but I'm wishing I had a paper copy so I could have the satisfaction of throwing it in the garbage. (recycling bins are rare here.)



***EDIT: I just re-accessed the story and noticed the editors have changed the headline from "Dreams Stifled, Egypt’s Young Turn to Islamic Fervor" to "Stifled, Egypt's Young Turn to Islamic Fervor." They have apparently decided that Egyptians still maintain the capacity to dream.

Maybe I should go with the Sambas next time.

Apparently Pumas are outside the dress code of the Cairo Opera House. I was told last night that my footwear was inappropriate for main floor seating, and I would have to sit on the balcony despite a main floor ticket. That was, however, one usher's opinion, I figured. So after turning the corner I asked another to kindly show us our seats. No problem.
I could've been barefoot for all I cared when the strings released the opening anxious notes of Shostakovich's Fifth Symphony. I'd never heard it live before, and I'm just about convinced to go home and smash my recording of it. (I figured out why classical music fans are such vinyl audiophiles.)
They played Rimsky-Karsakov's Scheherezade Suite also, but Shosty definitely took the cake.

Friday, February 15, 2008

Real time

I finally got those videos up from Sunday's festivities (compliments my roommate Sharif).


This is very soon after the game ended. We went out into the street after it was over and people were just starting to assemble and stop traffic and such. Things started getting rowdier with every new cheer circle and finally someone (seen below ghostriding his whip) took off toward Tahrir Sq., the main square of Cairo. All the major streets had crowds the size of ours and when they converged in Tahrir this is what it was like. Take note of the Hardee's and Pizza Hut in the background. I suppose I am proud to say I ate my first Hardee's meal of my life that night... and most likely my last.



More in Tahrir Square a little later on. This was pretty typical of the night: a crowd of kids would spontaneously erupt into cheers, and then just as suddenly disband and mingle around until another cheer started (which was generally within the next 2 minutes). I learned a few cheers from some kids, but I've been told I probably shouldn't repeat them outside of a screaming football crowd. The end of the video, however, is what sticks out to me.
Despite all the chaos and relative recklessness, the fireballs, the stunningly dangerous methods of riding vehicles, the climbing and jumping and running mobs, the atmosphere remained very positive where I was and age did not play a segregating role in the crowd. If this happened outside your apartment in the States, I guarantee parents would be barricading their kids in the bathroom. Last Sunday, it was actually the kids that were the most active outside. It didn't matter if you were 6, 16, or 66, you were welcome to hang off the cars and cheer in circles (though most, not all, were male, by the way).
I figure this has a lot to with the lack of widespread alcohol culture here. Something like this in the States would carry with it the assumption that (lots of) boozing was going on, and therefore it would be primarily an "adult" gathering. Here, everything that was going on honestly felt safer because people were (generally) not intoxicated. Yes, there are seven people on that motorcycle, but I guess at least they're sober... Anyway, it was a real ecstatic feeling to have adrenaline as the major substance keeping everyone going. Plus, not once did I see any of the vomit or urine that typically accompany any celebration at MSU. So that was nice.
I'm not suggesting this was a care-free night for everybody (a few of my girl friends fell victim to being harassed and/or groped in the big crowds), nor that alcohol or drugs were totally absent, but the fact that the celebration was so big and so rowdy yet still a place for families was new to me.



A few hours after the end of the game, with everyone still going at it strong, we went back to the apartment to find this parader in his most steadfast noble stance.

Thursday, February 14, 2008

Love strikes in Cairo

I picked up a date for Valentine's Day!

















Her name is Delicious.

Sunday, February 10, 2008

MASR! MASR! MASR! MASR!


Egypt 1 - 0 Cameroon
2008 Africa Cup of Nations Champions.


No better time to be in Cairo.



And of course, no national celebration would be complete without...






GHOSTRIDING THE WHIP!

Thursday, February 7, 2008

Yalla yalla!

Since we live around the government buildings and embassies, taking pictures is prohibited. Such is the nature of a paranoid dictatorship. Even loitering in front of the Shoura Council or anywhere else will get you hassled on by the guards.
I sympathize, however. We live across the street from the Egyptian Social Fund for Development. Any and all precautions are necessary to protect it from spies and activists; I can only imagine the serious hard work that goes on inside that building to make Cairo's social welfare a reality.

Wednesday, February 6, 2008

Econominicaliality

Across the street from Greek campus are the two trendy college coffee places, Beano's and Costa where coffee can reach almost E£10 and certainly more for espresso drinks. (Near the Radioshack with the large "FIXED PRICES" sign.) I opt for the joint across the street with the sawdust on the floor. E£1.50 for an 'ahwa mazboot (sweetened Turkish coffee). Plus I get the distorted shortwave radio broadcast from behind the counter, and the occasional acrobatic mouse performance, as Arastoo claims one fell from the ceiling while enjoying his 'ahwa and sheesha. ...hey, as long as it's not after my coffee.

Speaking of sheesha, enjoying one of these at a cafe or lounge in the States will now run you about $9-$15. Here? Around E£2 ($0.60).

However, what are not cheap are school supplies and textbooks. Ouch.

"Welcome to the Middle East. Sometimes things don't work the way you want them to, and other times they don't work at all."

Ilhamdu lillah the internet has regained partial speeds here in Egypt, so it's time to forge ahead with this. No more excuses. Updates will henceforth be on the regular.

Classes started on Sunday (Friday is the Muslim sabbath, so Friday and Saturday are the weekend) and here is my finalized schedule for the semester:

HST321: Social/Cultural History of the Medieval Middle East
ANTH320: Peasants, Nomads, and Rural Change
ARIC320: Intro to Sufism
ALNG109: Intro to Egyptian Colloquial Arabic

Needless to say, I'm looking forward to it.
The AUC International Student Handbook had alerted me that AUC had a more professional attitude among its students on campus, and that they typically dressed very well for school. Well, half of that turned out to be true. (Warning: major generalizations ahead!) Egyptians do dress very well on campus, certainly enough to make me feel like a bum in my Levi's, non-brand shirt and undone hair. But it's not a professional dress, it's a social dress. My first impression walking onto Greek Campus (the most socially buzzin' campus) was that of a high school kid in a new school. To the left of the entrance gate is a large rock (granite? i dunno) staircase that becomes a platform to the library entrance. Sitting on every tier all the way around the stairs are couples and cliques of students decked in Gucci, Armani, what have you, chatting and waving cigarettes peering down on the pedestrians no doubt for conversational purposes. Then once you make it around the stairs, there is the courtyard, absolutely packed with loitering and milling students. Then you get to the stairs of the social science building, which lead to an open hallway overlooking the courtyard. Now, the SSCI building stairs are a prime social domain. Especially if you can get enough people to stand and talk and smoke on them so that the only way to get to class is to awkwardly excuse yourself though. Then again, maybe I should just stop being such a nerd and getting to class five minutes early. The classrooms are nearly empty until it seems an imaginary 'minute-bell' (as we had in high school) rings and suddenly the cigarettes get one last drag and the hallways are bare.
To top it all off, after leaving my first class of the semester, I came out into the SSCI hallway to find two Egyptians in a bit of a tussle, a girl hanging onto the sleeve of one guy. Blood out the other guy's nose. Friends stepped in and soon the guards. Lovely. ...just some unfinished business from last semester, I presume.














An eerily empty Greek campus. The stairs wrap all the way around and the entrance is behind them. The hallway I'm talking about is to the right, behind the white columns.


I prefer to spend my time near the fountain in the more laid back Main campus:














To take a step back, the social attitude is very huge at AUC, but in a lot of cases, I've noticed Egyptian students already somewhat more participant in class than at MSU. The extreme cases otherwise are of many of the ultra rich that attend my school. These are sons/daughters of ambassadors, ministers, tycoons, whose lives are financially set and seem to be at university exclusively to socialize, and don't so much feel like answering to some middle-class professor.