Category Archives: Two minute read

Jul 13 2011
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Anecdotes, Two minute read

Goodbye! Welcome!

As I was skype-chatting with my sister today (not Frank..the other one), talking about mundane things like my recent grocery shopping trip, I mentioned that I had a random “I love Egypt moment” when I was once again surprised by the friendliness of the employees at each place I stopped at, most of them telling me “Welcome” as I exited their places of commerce. The one exception was the nut store I went to, where the guy was only postal-worker friendly (that’s a nod to the comedy of Rick Steves, for all you fans out there).

Then not-Frank said something strange: “They said welcome as you were leaving?”  I paused to think. Why was this weird? How has my concept of normality changed in the miles between Cairo and the United States of America? I determined that the usual context for welcoming someone in America is upon entering a place of commerce or residence, the word signalling the beginning of a relationship that will last either as long as it takes to get ice cream or for socially unaware guests to leave. Regardless of the length, the welcome firmly belongs at the relationship’s initiation.

In Egypt, however, welcoming people who look foreign is an activity that knows no beginning nor end; some might say it is a way of life. Anytime is appropriate to welcome a foreigner, especially if they are simply passing on the street minding their own business, looking straight ahead, or appearing conscious. Indeed, it is common national knowledge that nothing says hospitality like one hundred weekly repetitions of “Welcome to Egypt” or simply “Welcome,” or even the rare “Welcome in Egypt,” “Welcome on Egypt,” or “Welcome Egypt” (anyone who has studied a foreign language knows that propositions are hard–no blame or shame being cast here). I’m convinced that even if the educational system were to fail them in every other way, each Egyptian child would leave primary school knowing how to make paper airplanes and say “Welcome (X) Egypt.”

Sometimes it can get annoying. Can’t they tell from my appearance that I’ve already been in the country for a whole 6 weeks and am almost completely Egyptian? What about my wrinkled linen pants and dress shirt, also wrinkled, doesn’t give that impression? On the other hand, the welcoming is just another reminder of the warmth of Egyptian society it is famous  for. People really are friendly–even let-you-borrow-money-friendly (most of the time). So in answer to not-Frank’s question: should there be any time whatsoever in which a person is not welcome? I don’t want to live in a world where that is true.

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Jul 12 2011
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Anecdotes, Best blog posts, The Cairo Metro, Two minute read

Concealed sandwiches prohibited

Main cause of Revolution failure: laxness with sandwich-carriers

The Tahrir sit-in continues as do my experiences with tafteesh, which are especially lovely in the morning. After I wake

up, it usually takes me about an hour to feel like I’m not underwater and appreciate that the things happening around me are, in fact, real. Since I woke up a mere 10 minutes before leaving for school this morning, I had the distinct feeling of being in an aquarium while walking out into the haze of the humid Cairo day. The sensation was intensified by the fact that the metro was unusually moist, the air within the women’s car as warm and embracing as kisses from grandma, though much less pleasant (love you, grandma).

Before surfacing in Tahrir square, I and the other CASA students I had swum into on the way to the metro made our way through the ladies-only tafteesh, conducted by a female trainee no older than fifteen who doubtless has a crush on Robert Redford or whoever the kids like nowadays. There are anywhere from one to two steps in the tafteesh process: 1) exhibit ID 2) submit bag to be searched. The steps occur sometimes in this order, sometimes without the bag search, and sometimes with additional mandatory small talk. The bag search process can be a hassle especially when the girl doing the searching has no idea what a weapon looks like but knows what people searching for weapons looks like, carefully examining everything with equal care, pens, pencils, pocket sized notebooks, ribbon wands, etc. It is also a hassle when one has an American-style, million pocket adventure backpack, each pocket of which must be searched.

One of the girls I was with had such a backpack, which was large and full of things a student uses: books, pencils, and sandwich in a sandwich box. Out of everything that could have aroused suspicion, Ms. Tafteesh was most captivated by the encased sandwich, which looked as American as an apple pie playing baseball, complete with wheat, not white bread, in the sliced loaf style that we so adore. In the amount of time tafteesh girl took to examine the sandwich, I could have clubbed her with my water bottle, grabbed the sandwich, run up the stairs, and been apprehended instantly by other security personnel, who I would have attacked by smearing the contents of the sandwich on their faces. All this to say I think her focus could have been better spent elsewhere.

I have not been able to stop thinking about the girl and the sandwich all day. Though I realize the shape must have been slightly strange for her, I wonder what kind of weapon she thought it could be. Did it signal the presence of a spy? Could it contain some sort of bomb or knife? Did it remind her of a family member? Could it be planted somewhere and cause a strange sensation for someone when stepping on it barefoot? Could it be planted somewhere and explode?

Maybe I’ll never know what was going through Ms. Tafteesh’s mind as she pondered the sandwich. But I did think of something strange later on: I have never actually seen said student eat her sandwich. I have, on the other hand, seen her lurking around campus and hiding her sandwiches under desks and in trash cans. Maybe that girl at the tafteesh station was onto something.

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Jul 12 2011
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Best blog posts, Humorous, The Cairo Metro, Two minute read

Leave your thug life at home

avoid looking like this guy

If you’re heading to the Sadat Metro stop and/or planning to enter Tahrir square at all, you best leave your guns at home. While you’re at it, forget about bringing along any knives, clubs, maces, and vegetable peelers you might traditionally carry with you. Now is not the time to practice transporting your archery set or collection of poisonous darts. If you happen to usually don a thug-like appearance, you should consider trying something else for a change, like wearing a floor length tiered jean skirt and a long sleeve turtleneck shirt emblazoned with either sparkly cartoon characters or nonsensical English words. Not sure if you have a thug-like appearance? If you look in the mirror and seem to be male, you are most probably a thug. If you seem to be male AND are over 5’8 and have darker skin, you are a thug and are a persona non grata in the environs of Tahrir square, which is in full blown sit-in mode.

Tahrir square has sprouted white tents, stages, signs, and new graffiti, heralding a new level of the revolution, despite the fact many Egyptians have grown weary of the continual instability. The square is occupied by groups of people demanding their demands be met. Yes, there are specifics for the people in the square but no, they do not actually help clarify the situation. One of the many consequences of the sit in is that the Mogamma, the center of Egyptian bureaucracy, was forcibly closed both yesterday and today, preventing the completion of much government business including the bribery of countless officials. Another consequence is the “tafteesh,” or security checks, now found at every entry point to the square.

The nature of the security check experience varies wildly from one entry point to another as there appears to be no standard procedure. It’s almost like these people didn’t get their tafteesh badge at Sit-In Camp for Budding Revolutionaries. Everyone from teenagers to dentists to adolescent girl helps out with the tafteesh. You could be asked for anything from giving your name, a passport, or an identity card to allowing them to examine your bag and ask you riddles. Sometimes they just let you through so long as your appearance is free of thug-like traces i.e. you are female (see above note).

Today I stupidly forgot to bring any form of ID with me to school, so I was lucky that both times I approached security, the “guards” let me pass through with nothing more than a smile. Other CASA students, however, had their bags checked and/or were prohibited from entering the square at all (one student). Tomorrow there is supposed to be a million man march to/in Tahrir but I haven’t heard anything about our classes being cancelled so apparently some people (our administration) were not entirely convinced it was going to happen. We shall see.

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Jul 10 2011
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Two minute read

Sit-in or sit down?

Politically minded people/ people who are mildly aware of their surroundings would note that there has been some

The Arabic actually read's "Emily's Jam"

activity going on in Tahrir square. The protests that began yesterday in earnest continue in the form of a sit-in, thus all traffic through the square is completely blocked off and identity cards are required to get through. The political future of Egypt is still very much in flux and it would do well for stakeholders as well as those concerned to pay close attention.

While a sit-in does have its benefits, there is also another option, a nobler option one might say: the sit down, as in sitting down at a café and drinking coffee/sheesha for hours on end (the verb in Arabic is the same). I choose this option, and undertook both activities this very night to the great surprise of no one. I and “the gang” headed to “our” favorite spot, a spot I would even call my “jam,” also known as Boursa since it is an outspreading of open air cafes in the closed off streets of the financial market and the word Boursa means stock exchange in Arabic (I think).

At Boursa, over games of backgammon and dominoes, we discussed topics ranging from American politics to American movies, with varying degrees of success. When discussing the election of 2004, we hit a stumbling block when trying to explain the Electoral College, which remains somewhat of a mystery even in America. American films were a bit easier, though I and friend were proven to be ignorant of many films our country has birthed.

On the way home in a taxi, the driver explained to me that he had to go around Tahrir square and take a different bridge to Doqqi. Not understanding what he said except for the word “bridge” and “Tahrir” and thinking he was asking me which way I wanted to go I said “Whatever you like…whichever is easier,” and then he said, “No, Tahrir Square is closed off. No one can get through.” And again I replied, “I don’t care which way you go…at your ease.” By then we were passing a street that enters Tahrir and I could see it was completely blocked off by cars and there was a big white tent in the middle. As he turned away from the square towards the different bridge I finally realized what was going on as he said, “There is a sit in…the square is completely closed.” And I replied, “Oh….well I guess you can go this way.” And we both chuckled.

Though I told him to take me to the Ambassadors’ Hotel which is very close to where I live, we ended up making the entire trip to the door of my apartment building after a lot of “You can let me out here…well I guess a little further…here’s good…well maybe up ahead a little bit…yeah just turn here…” And we both chuckled again. He tried to refuse payment, but I showed him, and I gave him a 25 cent tip (of borrowed money). I meant it to be more but my skills in mathematics are very limited. This driver more than made up for the loser we had last night. There are good taxi drivers…may the entire world know!

Also, Che Guevara was at Boursa tonight, topping off a long day of post-death revolution making with smooth sheesha smoke.

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Jul 09 2011
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Two minute read

Do they have T.V. in the mornings?

This was the meter going too fast

As has been my Friday custom since I’ve been in Cairo, I did not leave my apartment until the ripe hour of 8:30 pm, at which point the sun was safely beyond the rim of the earth, scorching another people somewhere. I don’t know if I’m just complainy and/or high maintenance, but it sure does get hot here. I have no problem with the weather per say; I just have no desire to be out scampering around in a cauldron-like atmosphere–hence the clever avoidance strategies i.e. sleep. Since I realize the weather will get hotter and is already hotter some places in America, I will save my strongest complaints for later.

Apparently, however, I’ve been missing out on a different world. The streets, they say, are calm on Friday mornings and one might actually use the word “pleasant” to describe walking outdoors. They might as well say that unicorns pull the buggies and the nile is filled with iced tea, but so help me I will witness for myself the miracle of Friday morning next week. I might stay up all night just to wander the empty streets and eat the candy leaves of the acacia trees in the soft light of dawn, but I will do it.

On a different note, tonight we took a taxi back from our favorite hang out spot, Boursa, which is in Midtown and probably about 10-20 minutes in taxi from Doqqi, depending on the traffic. After we got into the taxi we commented, in English, that the meter was running faster than usual, much faster. It reminded me of cartoon characters’ eyes when they turn into slot machines out of extreme desire for something, the image flipping faster than you can say “hold on there one hot second, pal.” Mr. Taxi Driver noticed we were staring at the meter and talking about something in our foreign tongue, gestured to the meter and said “Expensive?” Great guess, bucko. To be fair, you had the advantage of remembering the time you took the meter to your cousin and asked him to rig it for you, so I’m not going to say you’re a genius. But we were grateful for what was, in essence, an admission of guilt, and got out as soon as we knew where the heck we were. On the bright side, we got to walk a little bit, which we hadn’t done all day. On the dark side, we had to walk in the presence of Cairo night dwellers, which aren’t always the most savory of folk. Except for us, of course.

There were protests today in Tahrir, but they were peaceful, so that’s good. I heard the number tens of thousands thrown out there, also the words “carnival atmosphere.” Tomorrow I plan on sitting at home, promptly followed by feasting on camel meat.

Also, the title to this blog post is a vague reference to 30 rock…let credit be given where credit is due.

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