Category Archives: Two minute read

Jun 28 2011
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Anecdotes, Two minute read

There is a good man who keeps the pergola

this is the only picture I have of the pergola: it’s the thing above us. 

I do not know his name. He is the pergola keeper.

Right as one enters the metal detectors of the American University in Cairo: Tahrir Campus, there is a lush garden bisected by a 25 yard long pergola lined with wicker chairs and tables. A flower producing plant grows up and over the wooden structure, so the area is shaded and quite lovely to sit in and drink coffee and eat cookie during a break between classes.

All happenings in the pergola occur under the keeper’s careful eye. Every minute or so, a small red or purple flower falls from above only to be picked up seconds later as the keeper whisks by, having espied its descent immediately as it began. He walks with a slight limp and a gentle but determined manner. Should a student appear to need a table, he is at the ready carrying one over before being asked. As soon as the students leave, he rearranges the chairs and tables back to their original shape and waits for the next leaf or flower to fall.

I have never seen anyone so dedicated to the regulation of an outdoor area. I’m sure though he may have been interested in what was going on outside the university walls during the revolution, he wouldn’t dare leave his post for fear of a thick carpet of flowers or other plant debris covering the beloved walkway.

Not much is certain in life; at least we have the pergola keeper. Hell might be raised and the sky might fall, but he will guard his domain forever.

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Jun 27 2011
2 Comments
Two minute read

Appearance first, substance later

I want something like this

Every morning when I board the metro, I impulsively begin analyzing the components of the outfits surrounding me. This research is part of a long term “going native” “project” in which I construct an Egyptian wardrobe (or at least a few articles of clothing) that will ideally allow me to further blend in; sometimes business pants and collared shirts just enhance the foreignness of my features. I have always wanted a native wardrobe, but inevitably I get used to wearing the same clothes/run out of money/stop caring about blending in. Not so this time! I would rather starve than wear my t-shirts for the next 11 months.

The variety of clothing is endless. Every girl wears her hijab in a different way (about 9 out of ten or 12 out of 13 women cover their hair), and the rest of the outfit is always color coordinated. Imagine every combination of tier skirts, tight jeans, long shirts, tight long sleeve shirts with tank tops over them, bangles, colors, sequins, cartoon characters, gibberish English, gaucho pants, layers, cardigans, t shirts, bows, buttons, heels, flats, bejeweled sandals, abayas, niqabs, and almost everything else except for tie dye shirts, cargo pants, and whatever the Americans are wearing in general.

As we stand humidly on the metro and my eyes wander from ensemble to ensemble, I’m almost overcome with despair. I want it all! -especially a shirt with cartoon characters and or/teddy bears with sequins on them and a tier skirt . My goal is to go so native that the only clue I’m not Egyptian will be my predilection for peanut butter and the fact I prefer to eat meals in front of my computer instead of with humans. Here in Egypt I will be able to fully indulge my love of gaudy color combinations and obnoxious patterns: color goes with color, as I always say.

Today I finally embarked on my nativ-ication project and had great success. I purchased a blue long sleeve spandex shirt to go underneath other clothes…when I later tried this on in my home (there was only one size) I realized it breathes only slightly better than a trash bag. Part of my going native outfit might have to be the tissues everyone carries around to dab the sweat beading on their faces. I also purchased a long shirt-like thing that has stripes on it. I could have gone tackier—no sequins, bows, obnoxious patterns, or animals today—but there will be chance in the future, I believe.

Both my roommates saw the bottom of my feet today and were disgusted/charmed by how dirty they are. What does this mean?

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Jun 26 2011
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Anecdotes, Two minute read

What are songs we all know?

Al-Azhar park: I took this photo myself.

Today was full of music, more specifically, songs I myself was singing. It all began in the “Singing Club,” my attendance in which is regulated by the stipulations of the fellowship. In the club we listen to Arabic songs and look at the lyrics and try to understand them.

I think most of the people in the “club” didn’t know what they were getting themselves into and thus failed to realize that we ourselves are required to sing most of the songs after we listen to them. Since some of the students are shy/self-censored/or have quiet voices, our half-hearted attempts to sing along with the Arabic songs looks comedic/pathetic. There is some real talent, however, and one of the students brought his guitar along today and could play the songs after just listening to them once or twice. It only took me months of practicing a single piano piece before I could play it with ease….we’re equally gifted, right?

This same student brought his guitar to Al-Azhar Park today, a park on the outskirts of Cairo (I think) near Moqqattam where the trash collectors live and there are cave churches and exorcisms on Thursday nights. The park was beautiful….marble pathways, palm and other kinds of trees, fountains, grass, all of Cairo at our feet in a dusty, sweltering maze and us above breathing “fresh” air and being rejuvenated by green things.

We had quite the sing along in the park. The idea was to switch back and forth from English songs by the Americans to Arabic songs by the Egyptians….I’m not sure what happened but the vast majority of the songs ended up being American pop music. Among the songs we played: Since U Been Gone by Kelly Clarkson. I have a tendency to be overcome by the music sometimes when a song has particularly poingant lyrics, so I may or may not have raised my voice to a shouting/screeching level at the line “You had your chance you blew it; out of sight out of mind. Shut your mouth I just can’t take it…again and again and again and again” while pointing directly at the nice student playing guitar. There always has to be a target or it doesn’t seem believable. I’m just glad we didn’t play Total Eclipse of the Heart or that would have been a real disaster. And by that I mean it’s going to happen probably soon and I’m not going to be sorry for the spectacle I make of myself.

One interesting thing about Al-Azhar park: it used to be a trash heap and some guy saw it and said “I will make this a park one day where it will cost each patron 5 pounds to enter” and so it was. I think there’s more to the story but I can’t remember all of it.

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Jun 22 2011
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Anecdotes, Egypt, Humorous, Two minute read

Excuse me, do I have something in my teeth?

One of my favorite aspects of Cairo life is the fact no one knows where anything is, and thus at any point in time at any given place, someone is asking for directions. Every .25 seconds, another innocent bystander is accosted by a woefully lost human. Fully one million people are probably asking for directions at this very moment in the city.

Of course asking for directions is nothing special or specific to “overseas,” but I especially love observing the process in moving vehicles. For example, our taxi driver has no idea where he should take us as he’s going down the highway, thus he rolls down his window and shouts to the driver parallel to him “Pizza Hut??”. Without fail and without hesitation, the driver will answer back to the best of his knowledge, which usually is not sufficient. The process is repeated a few times over, often encompassing shouting to people we’re passing on the street or traffic police as we’re going around a traffic circle and so on and so forth until we finally reach our destination.

Cairo’s a big place and of course it’s not logical or possible to memorize every street, so until robots replace humans (soon hopefully!), this seems an appropriate strategy.

I don’t think other questions are as welcome in the midst of the daily commutes…but one day, in addition to the game involving making the fastest car stop, I want to ask something like the above title.

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Jun 21 2011
2 Comments
Anecdotes, Egypt, Two minute read

From the desert to the desert

Libyan rebel flag

In contrast to our normal weekday routine of returning to our hovels immediately after class and studying the punishing Arabic language until the 12 am call to prayer, 2/3rd of my apartment attended a Libyan cultural event at a cultural center in a posh part of Cairo, Zamalek. Since I knew my dirty t-shirt and wrinkled linen pants would make me stand out even more, I put on the closest thing I have to an appropriate nice outfit: a business shirt, jeans, and sperries. One day I’ll fit in somewhere.

After only minor difficulties finding the place, which is literally built into the underparts of an overpass, we found the oddly shaped but surprisingly nice venue bedecked with Libyan art, much of it pertaining to the current events going on there and the ever hated Qaddafi. The Bengazian band playing on the stage in front had just announced a brief intermission for the purpose of food and liquid consumption. Never had I seen such a hoard of people crowded around a buffet table….one would think there were a famine in Egypt and this was the first sighting of sugar and butter in months. I realize food prices are high nowadays but these people are from the upper class of society and attend “cultural events” surely they’ve eaten in the last week, right?

I managed to shove my way through the swarm and grab the most delicious cupcake I’ve ever eaten in my entire life…it was especially fulfilling as I’ve been craving western sweets ever since watching that dumb Australian cooking show centered on a child’s birthday party and ergo… cupcakes.

The band’s performance was by far the best part of the night, not for the quality of its music, which was so so and tended to be pretty cliché, but for the overall experience. Imagine, if you will, a small seated crowd emitting hubbub amidst the glare of bright lights and waving Libyan rebel flags in front of a band rocking out to pop ballads revolving around martyrs and revolution and blood and sacrifice to tunes on the same emotional level as a deeper N’Sync song. The most important component, however, were the kids that got on stage and were waving Libyan flags the entire time, sometimes blocking band members from sight for entire songs and/or threatening to injure them with the enthusiasm of their movements. At one point in the night, the rapper MC SWAT was forced to switch sides of the stage in the middle of breaking it down because of the peril he faced from one little girl with braids and ribbons in her hair.

The songs revolved around love of Libya and its unity and/or revolution. One of my favorite lines from the entire night was part of a description of Libya: “From the desert to the desert.” I guess it was hard to find another distinguishing geographical feature and from the border to the border wouldn’t work.

Another highlight of the night was actually hearing formal Arabic being used in the poetry reading. My heart delighted in hearing the sound of vowelled texts and my soul was nourished with sweet teshkeel. I love the importance of poetry in Arab culture…it’s great for revolutions, resistance, politics, love, insults, competition….everything.

I hope to see more cultural events and eat more free treats from this center under the bridge.

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