Thursday, December 22, 2005

23 Sharia Sherif

You may have noticed a while back that there was an aborted mission to Sharia Sherif that resulted in Helen music heaven. Well, that saga did not end, and so begins one of my favorite purchases ever.

During our Eritrean cooking lessons we had asked the head woman, Fatima, where we could find this special Eritrean red pepper (shatta). At first she was rather vague, mentioning downtown, and then Sharia Sherif, and finally, acting as one who had begrudgingly been forced to reveal what she secretly wanted to reveal the whole time, she lowered her voice and said quickly, "23 Sharia Sherif." In conjunction with another downtown shopping trip Jayanthi and I made our way to Sharia Sherif and found ourselves finally in front of 23 Sharia Sherif. A stationary store. I walk in and ask, thinking that maybe they have an Eritrean working there informally, but the woman at the desk looks at me like I'm crazy when I ask for Eritrean shatta instead of a 24 pack of envelopes. Even I'm feeling a little bit shady, thinking that "Eritrean shatta" sounds like the best codeword for drugs I've ever heard, but when we ask a man on the corner selling doo dads and sweaters on a table, he immediately points us down an alley, tells us to turn left and to go to the first floor. Of course I don't expect anything bad to happen to me, but I am glad to have Jayanthi with me so that I don't think that I'm crazy. We enter the apartment building, go to the first floor, and walk to the end, wondering if we are meant to just knock on a certain door. At the end of the hall we can see to our left an open door revealing a room with a few men sitting, and luckily one of them notices our bewieldered expression and comes to our assistance. We ask him about the shatta, and he simply nods and leads us into the kitchen, asking us to sit down. He reaches into the cupboard and brings out a plastic bag with a KILO (2.2 pounds : ) ) of shatta. We ask if he has anything smaller, he says no, we say how much, he says 35 pounds, we pay, we leave, and the exchange has just been completed. No small talk, no questions about how we knew he was here, no questions about Eritrea, just a transaction.

So I now have a 1/2 kilo of Eritrean shatta and a story. You can't really ask for anything more, can you?

Jayanthi left last night and now it is just me and this, my last day in Cairo. Of course I woke up sick, having all of the extreme and rapid temperature changes finally catch up to me, but lots of tea, a hot shower, my American drugs, and the exhilaration of today will surely do the trick.

Wednesday, December 21, 2005

Well, he did just move to Bahrain

Masr lil Masreen! Egypt for the Egyptians!

Lots of happenings in the world of Helen! The past two blogs have been from Lise and Jayanthi, the former having left two nights ago and Jayanthi to leave tonight, and I tomorrow night/Friday early morning.

I was worried that Lise and Jayanthi leaving would leave me twiddling my thumbs and wishing the going away process was finished, but I've been using up every single minute! I think a quick run down of my day is in order, even if only for me to remember everything!

Today I went to the "Cities of the Dead" in the morning with my friend Brian. There is an area of Cairo where little buildings and tombs have been built for the dead for years and years, but housing crunches and poverty have led nearly 300,000 people to make the cemetaries their home, often without sewage, running water, or electricity, although many of the areas have been built up. It was eerie to walk through these quiet areas with only a few people out and about, surrounded by mostly empty small buildings. I have no pictures because that seemed really inappropriate, but there are probably some on the internet. Afterwards we went to Al-Azhar park, which was absolutely gorgeous and an equally strange Cairene experience because everything was green and flowery and super clean. Apparently a European NGO had a hand in developing the park a few years ago, making sure that all-local labor was and would be hired, and that the proceeds from the entry charge would go into development projects in the neighboring areas. We could see the new housing projects begun by the park's money, and it was an exciting thing to see a development project that was equally enjoyable in and of itself and for the things that it is doing. After hanging out at the park I headed back into the center of the city to meet up with a friend for lunch and to check on a library fine. Lunch was really nice, though I hate having to have days and days of goodbyes, and afterwards I went with Brian again to Sout El Cahira (Sound of Cairo) to buy more music. I am a bad girl.

This seems really late in the game, but I think I never explained this. Egyptians neither call themselves Egyptians, nor their country Egypt, nor their city Cairo.

Egypt = Masr/Misr
Egyptians= Masrieen
Cairo= El Qahira/Cahira (it's a q/c sound in the back of your throat)

Going back and forth between the cemetaries and the park (because we kept getting wrong directions) we had to cross a 10 lane divided highway, but our success proved just how accostumed we have become to Cairo. It might not need to be said that Cairenes do not believe in lanes (although with this many cars, if they did it would be a nightmare) and there are no 'crosswalks' and certainly no fines for jaywalking. People just cross the street gradually, yet quickly, darting in between the coming cars, buses, bicycles, etc. You could never do this in the US because the drivers wouldn't know how to respond, thinking that they are about to run over you, but in Cairo you could never make it to the other side if you didn't do as the Egyptians do. Considering myself a former "hand-holding" crosser of the street I thought Egyptian streets = quick and ugly death, but I'm proud of my ability to cross the streets.

I think I must also exude a little bit more confidence in taxis, because I have not been accosted over the price nearly as much lately. (Knock on wood!) Taxis are quite an experience in Cairo. I didn't realize how wonderful I had it in Morocco, when the price was nicely displayed on the meter and then it was customary to add a dirham for tip. Here, like with many other things, you just have to "know." How you are supposed to "know" is another question. Some of the taxi rules I've picked up:

1) Girls- don't sit in the front unless all the seats in the back are taken. As part of the really (in my opinion) messed up logic regarding women in general, I've been told that some taxi drivers will take this as an indication that you 'want' to be, erm, touched. I've never gotten the impression from any of my cab drivers that they would take such liberties, but I guess it never hurts to just sit in the back.
2) Don't pay until you are out of the taxi
3) Don't ask how much, and if anyone asks you how much when you get into the cab, chances are you'll be asking to get out a few minutes later because the requested price is so ridiculous.
4) There will be plenty of ridiculous taxi cab experiences, such as:
* Taxi drivers driving off in protest of the amount you've offered, without even bargaining first, and leaving you confused on the side of the road, money in hand.
* Lots of fights- taxi drivers never ask for more money, they yell for it. Don't be surprised if policeman or other bystanders are brought in to negotiate between you and the cab driver.
* (A personal favorite story) I really enjoyed the voice of the reader of the Quran that my driver was listening to, and I asked for his name after I had gotten out of the car. In a beautiful gesture he lit up, took out the tape, and insisted that I take it.
5) The insides of taxis are also lots of fun. Seats covered in pink and black leopard prints, little Ramadan lamps, God's eyes, Qurans, Mickey mouses, stuffed animals, air refresheners, etc. hanging from the rearview mirror and attached to other parts of the car. The dashboard is also often covered in fabric or fake fur. Some taxis have their doors wired to play "It's a Small World After All" when opening, others have this wired to their breaks.
6) Taxi music is fantastic. A lot of drivers listen to the melodic Quranic recitation, others have old music playing, or the latest tape from Amr Diab. We've also heard Bob Marley and Cher. CDs have not really hit Cairo- everyone listens to tapes, which are certainly cheaper, but not as easily converted. Also, noone really buys originals of anything- it is all copies. Copyrights aren't too important in Cairo- you can take entire books to any copy shop and have them copied with no problem. This is particularly great considering books are so expensive, especially textbooks or other English books.


So how did I get from cemetaries to taxis to the 'copy culture' in Cairo? All in a day's work my friends. Time to return to attempting to cram all my stuff in my suitcases. This has not been a fruitful endeavor, let me tell you. Too much stuff! (Too many packets from my refugee class! )

Monday, December 19, 2005

A last Welcome

I will miss “Welcome, welcome to Egypt!” and “Where are you from?”
I will miss movie nights with my girls
I will miss feluccas on the Nile
I will miss melted marshmallows with melted chocolate in honey cookies
I will miss sitting in Al-Azhar-Mosque and enjoying being in that quiet place, where people go to pray or just to relax
I will miss Helen dancing around wearing 15 layers and still moving her hips so very sexy
I will miss our baoab talking to me although I can’t understand him
I will miss PEANUTBUTTER, in tons as we had in our cupboard
I will miss the Gilmore Girls
I will miss telling people that I am from Estland or Liechtenstein
I will miss our tea sessions, the morning- and the evening cup, mint tea, green tea with mint, shai, hibiscus and then again, morning- or evening-cup, choice between mint tea or green tea and as final the amazing hibiscus tea and if you really want to go over the top, just have another shai at 12 o’clock in the night!
I will miss our belling stag on the wall
I will miss Jayanthi bargaining for hours at Khan al Khalili, shop owners there got poor now
I will miss men singing to me on the street, I won’t miss when they said bad things to me
I will miss good food, as there are chick peas, lentil soup, green beans, koshari and lemon juice but as well pumpkin ice cream and tons of popcorn
I will miss the relaxing and constantly sound of toilet’s water running out
I will miss the muezzin’s calls for prayers but I won’t miss the aggressive Friday prayers from our mosque
I will miss ripping off the handles of washing machines

I won’t miss the smog
Maybe I will miss a little bit the pyramids – but not very much, just because they are so photogenic.

Habibis, I will definitely miss you a lot! But wherever the flowers might have gone to...”when you leave I will follow anywhere that you tell me to, if you need, you need me to be with you, I will follow anywhere!!”

Yours Lise/a



Where have all the flowers gone?
by Marlene Dietrich

Where have all the flowers gone?Long time passingWhere have all the flowers gone?Long time agoWhere have all the flowers gone?Young girls have picked them, every oneOh, when will they ever learn?Oh, when will they ever learn?Where have all the young girls gone?Long time passingWhere have all the young girls gone?Long time agoWhere have all the young girls gone?Gone for husbands, every oneOh, when will they ever learn?Oh, when will they ever learn?Where have all the husbands gone?Long time passingWhere have all the husbands gone?Long time agoWhere have all the husbands gone?Gone for soldiers, every oneOh, when will they ever learn?Oh, when will they ever learn?Where have all the soldiers gone?Long time passingWhere have all the soldiers gone?Long time agoWhere have all the soldiers gone?Gone to graveyards, every oneOh, when will they ever learn?Oh, when will they ever learn?Where have all the graveyards gone?Long time passingWhere have all the graveyards gone?Long time agoWhere have all the graveyards gone?Gone to flowers, every oneOh, when will they ever learn?Oh, when will they ever learn?Where have all the flowers gone?Long time passingWhere have all the flowers gone?Long time agoWhere have all the flowers gone?Young girls have picked them, every oneOh, when will they ever learn?Oh, when will they ever learn?

Saturday, December 17, 2005

Under the (Red) Sea

(Guest posted by Jayanthi)

Getting scuba certified while I was in Egypt was one of the things I definitely wanted to do - it was probably number one on my list of things I HAD to do while I was here. However, the road to certification has been bumpy....I didn't have time all semester to get certified so by the time I got started it was past Thanksgiving. The first few days were all bookwork and the guys at the center were great - did their best to accomodate my schedule. However my pool practice session had to be cut short because my ears would not equalize to the change inpressure under the water(even though it was just a few feet down). I thought it was just a slight cold that would go away in a few days, but it turned into a nasty persistent ear infection that had to be treated with antibiotics.

My instructor suggested I go ahead and give the pool practice another try once I finished my antibiotics and if it didn't work that was that. However, it did work!! After taking heavy duty decongestant, nasal spray, and two other kinds of medicine I was able to spend an hour 12 feet underwater practicing skill like taking my mask off and replacing it or what to do if I lost my regulator (the device that supplies air to my mouth).

Even though the scuba center hadn't planned a trip that weekend, they decided they'd take me by myself since it was my last weekend in Egypt and thus my last weekend to finish my open water certification. We went to Hurghada which is on the Red Sea about 4 hours south of Cairo and spent Friday and Saturday diving.

Breathing underwater is really hard to get used to - there's a constant awareness that you aren't really free to inhale and exhale naturally. After awhile I stopped thinking about it, but it was always in the back of my head. But really there were so many other things to do and see underwater.

We did 4 dives, all of them around really amazing reef formations with TONS of marine life. Aside from tons of fish that I can't possible begin to identify I know I did spot a moray eel, lionfish, clownfish (Nemo!), angelfish, a spotted stingray, and an octopus. We actually played a bit of tug-of-war with the octopus with this diving rattle stick my instructor had. I pulled superhard, but the octopus and massive suction cup-covered tentacles definitely won.

When we weren't in the water, we were lying on deck napping under the sun. The winter weather was a bit cool when we first got out of the water, but the sun was strong and we warmed up quickly (with the help of some good Arabic tea of course). The Red Sea is the most amazing gorgeous shade of turquoise that I have ever seen, with the water changing to a deep azure depending on the depth and presence of coral.

Though I would have loved to spend my last weekend in Cairo with Helen and Lisa, I did have an amazing wonderful relaxing time. And though I was able to check getting scuba certified off my list, exploring the Red Sea really was an incredible first time diving experience that I'll definitely always remember.

Friday, December 16, 2005

Said the Gramophone : Helen, I love you!




The pictures aren't too hot because I was racing against terrible batteries that I bought (and lasted me 30 minutes, no joke) HOWEVER. Do you know what you are looking at???????

THERE ARE RECORDS IN CAIRO. THERE ARE GRAMOPHONES IN CAIRO. These are some of the things in Cairo that have made me think in capital letters and exclamation points for the past hour and a half. Lise periodically hits her face as if to wake up and says "Lise! Das Ist Kairo!" - "Lise, this is Cairo!" and right now I feel like doing the same thing.

Today's mission:

* Pick up Lise's film at the Kodak in Zamalek
* While there try to go to 23 Sharia Shereef and see if there really is more special Eritrean shatta for sale.

What actually happened:

Today is Friday, so most everything was closed, including the film place, and apparently Sharia Shereef isn't anywhere near Zamalek, so our mission was completely unfulfilled. We decided to instead just wander around the wide and quiet streets of Zamalek, heavily populated by expatriates and subsequently not as crazy as the rest of Cairo and home to lots of more upscale retail, art galleries, embassies, supermarkets, etc. We passed by an art gallery and looked at the art of Hend Adnan, which was really neat, then we bought batteries and tape, and went into a Moroccan home furnishings store (!) It smelled like Morocco... it had all of the beautiful, beautiful things that I got so used to and bought very little of. Look Lise! I have a bowl with almost this exact design! These are the doors I want in my house! Oh, look at that lamp! Sigh. It was a fantastic trip down nostalgia lane and a reminder that I like the designs and pretty things in Morocco much better than here. We kept walking and went into the supermarket where we bought 20 boxes of Morning Cup tea, the best tea I've ever had and which I subsequently don't want to be without when I come back. While in Metro Lise remembered that one of the German rap groups that had come to Cairo to do things with the Goethe Institute had told her about a place with music upstairs from Metro. I didn't realize exactly what she was saying, and thought it was just a regular music store, but no! We went upstairs and found about three small rooms crammed with gramophones and old records and lamps and pictures and who knows what else. We went into the room with the records and were so overwhelmed. After finding that he charged 10 pounds ($1.80) for 45s and 20 pounds for full-length records we counted up our money and asked for 17 45s. For the next 45 minutes we just sat in chairs as record after record was placed onto the record player and our ears and hearts rejoiced. All of his music is from Cairo, so no Upper Egypt or Nubian music, but wow!!!! I stumbled upon one of the most amazing things in Cairo, yet. I think the trip to the Moroccan store is what did it, because in Morocco it always seemed like 'coincidence' after 'coincidence' was just falling on my head and we called them little "Al Hamdu Lilahs" (Thanks be to God) and today's trip was just a gigantic series of unplanned events that lead into a huge Al Hamdu Lilah. If it weren't for Lise needing to pick up pictures, me feeling too sick this morning to go to Church, her time spent with the German group, our decision not to find Sharia Shereef and to instead wander around, passing by the supermarket... etc. etc. etc.

I can't stop smiling. I told him I would definitely be back. Next semester's radio show just got a thousand times better. Weeeee!

George Bush! Number One!



Just a few pictures from the Khan El-Khalili. Jayanthi took more; I mostly concentrated on taking videos. Of course, in my attempts to be subtle about the videotaking on my camera I ended up with really jumpy and fast moving, dizzying footage. A bit like the Khan itself! Yesterday I was always greeted with "Hola." Well, I was also asked if I was from "Spain? Poland? Canada?" Yesterday also saw a rise in questions asking "How can I take your money?" This is a new development in my history at the Khan, and I would say one of the funnier ones. I also got "If you come into my store I will marry you," which was also a major incentive to stay away. I also got some fresh 1/2 Strawberry, 1/2 Orange juice that was delicious, and also resulted in some fun conversation in Arabic with the juiceman. He lit up when I said I was from America and said George Bush! milla milla! 100 % He's not the first person to tell me how great George Bush is, and I get America! Number One! all the time, and not mocking me, either. Of course I don't know how these men really feel, but I've never had anybody say anything negative to me about America, unless we were in a conversation.

A week from now I'll be on my way to Germany, or in Germany, or leaving Germany. Something related to Germany : )

Thursday, December 15, 2005

Disillusioned but done!

I just left my last class at the American University in Cairo. Other than an easy exam left on Saturday I have finished all of my work. 20 page paper on how UNHCR doesn't meet basic human needs according to A Theory of Human Need, 7 pages on why International and Regional 'support' has only hindered the Israeli-Palestinian conflicts from being resolved, presentation on Iraqi novelist Alia Mamdouth's novel Naphtalene, a summary of Midaq Alley by Naguib Mahfouz, (both, especially Mahfouz, HIGHLY recommended) and an Arabic final were just part of my work for this week.

I'm not posting this to say "look at what I did" because I know others around me had much more taxing finals, but I just think that it is a good insight into the kinds of things that I've been thinking about all semester. Last night my Forced Migration teacher asked us if we had become completely disillusioned with the world of humanitarianism and refugee issues in general and the answer was a resounding YES. Congratulations to Barbara, Ray, James, and the most reading I've ever done for a class, for making me question my future and my beliefs in a way noone else has. They say you have to break down before you can build back up again, right? : ) The class ended in a really interesting discussion of Christian fundamentalism ( in part because of a lecture given by Karen Armstrong, scholar of religion that I missed out on because of class) . I'm starting to know that I'm about to go home... soon my work won't resemble at all what I've just done here, and instead lectures on "Islamic fundamentalism" will seem more foreign.

In celebration last night for having my brain completely destroyed by finals and my Refugee class in particular, I decided to try out some more of my Eritrean and Sudanese recipes. While the end result did not taste like what I had had at my cooking lesson, and didn't look the same either, it was still fantastic. I had to make some meat-substitutions which changed things around a little bit, but I thought were successful. It didn't hurt that on the last day of my English class one of my favorite women gave me two different kinds of special Eritrean shatta (red pepper) . Wow. So wonderful. I hope this week is full of more cooking experiments, now that I finally have an Egyptian cookbook. Too bad everything has meat in it!

P.S. Good luck to everyone at UGA finishing up exams and getting ready for graduation!

Saturday, December 10, 2005

Santa is an Arab!


Why Lise is awesome. Last week we had a visit from "Papa Noel"

More dancing

This is a link to a fellow-blogger's post about oriental dance/belly-dancing. Really neat.

http://juliacha.blogspot.com/2005/09/thoughts-on-social-perception-of-raqs.html

Friday, December 09, 2005

You are lonely! You are lonely!

It's 2:30 am and I don't feel like sleeping. I'm listening to random Christmas music and Norwegian violin Beatles covers and old country music and quiet winter music. As much as I love all of this Arabic music sometimes you need a retreat into the cozy world. I was thinking a lot about Arabic music today, though, sharing memories with Jayanthi of our first introductions to it. I really only have two little memories, but I like them.

1) Fayruz: "Habaitik bi Saif, Habaitik be Shitii" First semester Arabic with my Syrian professor and we're working through "Al-Kitaab" (The Book) and there is a section with the words of this song and a section of it on our cds. Fayruz is probably the most famous Lebanese singers ever and this song is one of her most famous. The way she says "Habibi" (My love.... and also ABSOLUTELY REQUIRED in every Arabic song ever) makes you know why it word exists. Oh man. I wish I had a recording of my class being forced to sing along... a group of embarrassed college kids singing about how "I love you in the summer and I love you in the winter."

2) The radio station that I talk about all the time (wuog.org) has maybe 4 or 5 cds in the Middle Eastern music section and they are all Turkish, I think, except for the Putumayo Groove Arabic disc (until someone stole the cd! jerks!). On said Putumayo Groove disc there is a song called "Intil Waheeda." My friend Jeremy and I played it on air and listened to it in the car on the way to teaching English several times and I was so, so, so excited because I thought I knew what it meant. I thought he was saying "You are lonely.... You are lonely" and so of course the rest had to be about how "Obviously habibi you need to be with me." Unfortunately "wahda" means "lonely" and "waheeda" means "the only one." I was foiled this time, but at least I have a great idea for the next big Arabic pop hit.

You are lonely! You are lonely!
Oh my habibiti
I see you from far away
and I know you want to be with me
So I can be your habibi
Oh my habibiti
You are lonely! You are lonely!
Do you want to be my habibiti?
Because, habibiti, I am your habibi

If you think this is bad you should read translated pop lyrics. My love for Arabic music is in no way related to the content of the songs : ) I just like to dance!

I think I'll go back to soul now....

"Baby don't you worry about your [woah]man... I'll be coming home as soon as I can"

Pharonic Photofun





A little bit of Pharonic Egypt from our trip to Luxor (Karnak Temple, Luxor Temple, and a group picture of me, Helen, Brian, and Waseem)
- guest posted by Jayanthi (who isn't about to let Helen have all the photofun)

Pretty things





A colorful mosque, spices for sale, a horse running loose through the streets, and hibiscus for sale in Luxor.

Thursday, December 08, 2005

And you thought I might give you recipes for Egyptian foods...

I've been to four different cooking classes set up by the Student Action for Refugee (STAR) club that I'm a part of, and on Tuesday night was the last one. I wrote down the recipes from all of the weeks, but there are some cultural barriers that make it a little difficult. I love how answers to questions on amounts make the African men and women struggle to describe things that they just "know", and how answers to how long it takes for a certain bread to rise will elicit answers that reference the climate and the season. I love it.

All of that to say that I finally got a recipe that I can write down for you that should be easy enough to follow!

This is a Burundian bread called Chapati Zamaji - don't quote me on those spellings.

Ingredients:
1/2 kilo wheat flour
3 eggs
tsp salt
Vegetable oil

Mix the flour with the eggs and enough water for it to gain a Pancake-like consistency. Make sure there are no clumps.

Have a hot skillet ready and ladle the batter on (just like a pancake or crepe), smoothing out the excess batter and sprinking a little bit of oil on, also smoothing it out. Bumps will begin to form. Flip over when you think it is ready and put a little bit of oil on the just-cooked side, too. It is done when everything is cooked through- on some of the pieces of bread the bumps had begun browning so I guess that is a good sign too.

Repeat until done with the batter!

Yummy. I have a text document with more recipes that you are welcome to if you want- just drop me an email and forgive the often vague directions.

Also, last call for postcards. Send me your address and I would love to send you something with a cute little Egyptian stamp on it. I really do love to write postcards and letters; I just don't have too many addresses, particularly for people who are in new places. Even if I don't know you I would still love to add to your stamp collection, so bring those addresses on!

Shnoo Breighti? Aiz eeh? Matha Tureed? and they all mean What Do You Want?

I'm sitting at home listening to a mix cd my friend Max sent me!!! I was so afraid that the Egyptian post had eaten it, but I'm listening to lovely fall music as we speak.

There is something about the idea of starting a new language that is both exciting and extraordinarily depressing. Linguists are not the only ones who can recognize that language is one of the most amazing faculties we have, and one that changes in subtle ways depending on where we live, who we are talking to, and what we're trying to communicate. In Spanish class there was always the understanding that people in Spain said things with a bit of a lisp, and that there really was a Mexican way to speak Spanish that one could identify. The complexities are certainly far greater than that, and in Arabic I continually find more reasons to both love this language and dispair at even the promise of my ability.

Arabic is spoken from Morocco to Iraq, from Lebanon to Yemen, and in places far more flung than even these, like the US and French suburbs, to use a timely example. Yet if an average Moroccan (or Tunisian or Algerian for that matter) were to speak to an average Iraqi, they wouldn't understand each other if they were using their common day to day language.

Before I go more into this, I think I should back up a little bit. Arabic is a really unique language in part because it has such strong religious association. Though there are few Christians with the ability to read the Bible in Hebrew and Greek, Muslims can, with study, read and understand the Koran in its original form. The Arabic of the Koran is considered the highest form of Arabic, (called Classical or Fus-ha) and it is used as the standardbearer of grammar and usage. Clearly, however, languages evolve considerably over time, as has been the case with Arabic, with the unique position that the importance of the Koran has kept the grammar, vocabulary, and structure alive in a way that many other languages haven't.

There are many forces at work on Arabic, not least of them are competing ideas of Pan-Arabism and nationalism that were historically (and still) at work before, during, and after the fall of the Ottoman Empire and rise of nation-states and Nasser's and others' call for the Arab world to be united. This idea, along with the importance of the Koran and the media, has allowed for fusha to continue and provide a means through which ideally all Arabs can understand each other. The Arabic of the media is very close to the classical Arabic, but is called Modern Standard Arabic and has lost some of the rigidity of fusha and has developed new structures and terminology. The influence of former-occupier languages, like French and English, had a big impact in the evolution of colloquial languages, particularly in Morroco/Algeria/Tunisia and in Lebanon. In these countries a large percent of the population is fluent in both languages and has created a hybrid, often mixing them in within the same sentence. Linguists and scholars debate over the impact of these different influences, wondering if one day the different colloquials will be considered different languages, like Latin spawning French and Italian and Spanish, for example. Is it important for Arabs to understand each other across nation boundaries, and how does one do that? Should all schools teach their students in fusha or simplify the complicated grammar of the classical to make it easier to learn? Can one/ should one do anything? I find it really interesting. From an Arabic-student perspective I would clearly love it if everyone spoke the Arabic that I am learning, but even I wouldn't want the Moroccans to lose their "La Bas?" greeting, the Lebanese "Kifak?" the Egyptians "Izayyik?" etc.

It is difficult to learn this language, though, because there are so many different colloquials and so many levels within one country or city. My teacher says they have identified essentially 5 different levels of Arabic in Cairo alone, ranging from governmental almost-fusha to poorly-educated colloquial. I never thought that I would have to learn a completely new vocabulary and grammar in order to get around the city or any country that was different from what I was studying (but that is from my own ignorance). I do have to remember that even though the English situation is a lot easier (English-English, Australian-English, American English, etc. are all pretty much the same in terms of grammar/vocab and mutually intelligible) there are still lots of different dialects, accents and slang for every region and background.

I am really lucky, though, that despite the differences, I can go from Morocco to Oman and be basically understood. How amazing is that? Of the hundreds of languages (thousands? ) in the world, I can only think of a handful that can do the same thing.

Wednesday, December 07, 2005

Things are heating up.... lots of papers and exams and presentations next week. The Cairo International Film Festival has been distracting me a lot because I want to see everything. So far I'm seen an Estonian film (I came in late so I don't know the name) a Syrian film called "Under the Ceiling" and a French film called "Lila Says." I now want to travel in Estonia, eat in Damascus, and work with Arab immigrants to France. After reading articles for my refugee class last night I also decided to go to Tanzania to work on refugee-governmental relations and then an article later to head over to Latin America. Oh, Helen.

One thing is sure, though, that I am excited about. I applied at WUOG (UGA radio station) to create a specialty show on Middle-Eastern music and got accepted! I don't know what time yet or what day, but it will be streaming on the internet so if you are interested you'll be able to listen. I've been trying to come up with a good title for it; I don't want anything that sounds Orientalist- no references to women in harems, etc.- Jayanthi's proposal of Aladdin-themed "A Whole New World" does make me laugh a lot, though. The best I can come up with is A Thousand and One Nights. Suggestions are always welcome. The Arabic translation of the book is "Alf Layla wa Layla" and I love how that sounds, but I don't think an Arabic title would be good.

Sunday, December 04, 2005

Hot Skillet Mama





Never too many "hot-stuff mom" shots. These are from Lebanon- on ruins, in the midst of Hezbollah, and under Cedars.

Punkins and Elections

Last night Jayanthi and I had some friends over to eat copious amounts of food and exchange the Arabic music we've accumulated so far. I had an excuse to wear the new skirt I had made here (fabric market plus neighborhood tailor = very cool) and we both had excuses to break out a lot of the American food our mommies brought us.

The menu:

"Burritos" with Egyptian flat bread, gouda cheese, lettuce, fool (the smashed fava beans flavored with cumin and other things), and my salsa mix (cilantro, lemon, tomatoes, red pepper, corn, and black beans with a splash of olive oil)

Stew with lots of veggies and way too much red pepper and cumin. When I was making the soup I had the snifflies and didn't realize how much of the pepper I was putting in.

Ginger Snaps with a Pumpkin Ice Cream filling. (Amazing Jayanthi idea) Do try at home.

I think I definitely have Southern "hosting" genes and I have learned a lot from Moroccan and Egyptian hospitality- they really have this thing down. The secret is basically familiar to Southerners- lots of food and don't let them stop eating.

Between dancing to Arabic music and discussing how the Boab (doorman) probably thought the guys who came over were in a 'relationship' with Jayanthi and I, we talked a lot about the impending return home. One of the girls, Amale, was concerned about people expecting her to sugar-coat her experience, especially the Arab-Americans she knows. Brian, from North Texas, anticipates that the people he knows already have a firm idea of Egypt and the Middle East and will not really be receptive to his experiences. Waseem, a Palestinian-Egyptian-American, didn't really say too much about going back, only that he would probably be even angrier with President Bush. News of the US paying Iraqi newspapers to include stories, secret torture centers (some allegedly in Cairo) and routes taking suspected terrorists through Europe, and all of the other Iraq business is enough to make the night really depressing. Part of being in a place where people can be arrested for nothing, tortured for anything, and don't have fair legal ways to protect against such wrongdoing makes me believe even more that the U.S. must have higher standards and must live up to its opportunities. Of course I can't validate the above news, but I expect more from the United States, perhaps more than I ever have before.
I don't really know what to anticipate when I come back, though a friend told me to expect a lot of "Did you feel safe?" and "Are the women opressed?"- related questions. Who knows. I do know that unlike my friends' fears, I am blessed to have relatives and friends who are already open and don't expect (I don't think! : ) ) sugar-coating or reinforcement of stereotypes or easy answers. Right now it is all so overwhelming I only feel capable of answering questions like "What was your favorite tea discovery in Cairo?" or "How often did you wear a seat belt?" or "What was your favorite Mubarak poster... Do you prefer the ones with him in aviators or the ones with hearts around his head?

As a related note to earlier- I would feel remiss if I didn't mention the continuation of the elections.
The three of Parliamentary elections in Egypt have been pretty violent;I'm not sure if you've read about this in the news, but I've seen it on NYTimes and BBC. The Muslim Brotherhood has benefited the most from the slightly less-stringent requirements to run for Parliament this time around, and though they are banned as a party, their members run as independents. They have gotten close to 1/3 of the seats in the Parliament, which is a landslide victory for them and unexpected to all. Unfortunately, the government and the army has done a lot to try to stop this, preventing people from voting, changing vote counts, arresting and trying to slander some of the candidates, and overall intimidation. I haven't seen any of the election violence because it is mostly in the outskirts of town or in other areas in Egypt, but it has gotten international coverage.
Here is a short article because everyone loves the short.
http://www.cbc.ca/storyview/MSN/world/national/2005/11/26/egypt051126.html

P.S. Congrats to Gregory! 3rd in Southern Region and World Qualifier in Irish Dancing?!??!!?!? Wow!!!!!

Friday, December 02, 2005

Tea-milk and other newfangled mashrubat

Because of finals and papers and other sorts of end of the semester nastiness, Helen, Lise and I decided to make this weekend one last quiet weekend in Cairo. Those papers (more precisely avoiding writing them) is also the reason I'm guestblogging for the first time. But of course bringing myself to talk about something in depth would be akin to doing work - thus the subject of the day is something quite mundane - beverages (mashrubat in Arabic). I'm a fan of liquids in general so I figured it would be a good place to start my internet-literary career.

When I first came to Cairo this summer, I was taking classes at a small Arabic school called Al-Diwan Center in Nasr City, one of the outer areas of Cairo. The school had two buildings on parallel streets and in each building was a man named Mohammed who did odd jobs and made tea. The Mohammed in the first center was skinny, young, quiet, and kind - and he made a mean Nescafe. I had class in the 2nd center and our Mohammed was grinning, joking, bald so it looked like he was always shining because his teeth and head would reflect the institutional florescent lights. He wasn't a champ at beverage brewing, but he was ours.

The first week I was religious about only drinking bottled water to spare my poor delicate American stomach from the horrors of African parasites. Summer in Cairo means either tons of water or dehydration. Sometimes I veered towards the latter, but I tried to make myself drink one big 1.5 liter bottle of water every day. At Diwan I was shy the first few days about asking for something to drink, but one cotton-tongued day, I asked for water and drank a 1.5 liter bottle in about 20 minutes.

(Now don't complain, I warned that this entry would be a bit.... *yawn*)

About a week after drinking a liter bottle of water every day at school I realized that it wasn't really bottled water, it was just water in a bottle - Cairo tapwater in a bottle. I should have realized earlier because tapwater here is disgusting. It's perfectly safe, as I then realized, but it tastes absolutely awful - worse than even Florida water.

Because the water is so gross, it's usually much better when you put things in it, which Caireans have down. Tea (Shaay in Arabic) here is a way of life, a social nicety, something to occupy your hands. Loose tea dust and lots of sugar are poured into the bottom of the glass and covered with hot water. You have to be careful with the last few sips so you don't end chewing your tea instead of drinking it. Walking down some of the busiest streets downtown near AUC you'll see men leaning up against the glass windows of their shoe store or clothing shops, nursing tea and watching people pass. Their tea glasses are small enough to envelop in one hand - handles are for wimps.

On every single street in Cairo you'll find little hole-in-the-wall 'ahwas where middle aged men sit drinking tea and coffee ('ahwa in Egyptian Arabic), smoking sheesha, playing backgammon, and just watching the world go by. Arabic coffee is thick, ususally sweet, and sometimes flavored with cardamom. As with the tea, the sediment settles on the bottom so impatient people (i.e. me) end up eating their coffee as well as drinking it. 'Ahwas are institutions really and are found everywhere from across AUC to our quiet neighborhood next to the grain and spice store two doors down from the apartment. They are male-only which is more understood than enforced really. If I sat down in an 'ahwa I might be served (especially since I'm foreign) but more likely would just get weird looks and maybe a comment or two.

Even though Cairo is a huge city, 'ahwas are just an example of how life is a bit slower, taken a bit easier here. Patience is definitely a virtue, whether it's running to twenty different offices to get one visa application filed or whether it's just waiting for your tea to settle before taking your first sip.

The tea-milk of the title was a great comment Helen made one tea-drinking day about the possibilities of the tea leaf and/or bag. We talked about tea infused desserts, peppermint tea-flavored hot chocolate, but the best suggestion was definitely tea-milk (Wouldn't it be really cool if we flavored milk with different kinds of tea!.....Oh, yeah that would just be making tea- with milk) :)

My tea is probably cool enough to drink by now, so I'll leave this as Part I and finish the other drinkables at a later date.