Have mentioned the cats yet? Because I believe they deserve to be mentioned. The proliferous population of cats here in Cairo are at the forefront of my mind this afternoon as I remember back to this morning when I was awakened by two of them going at it in the alley behind my flat. I can't figure out why people compare "girl fighting" to cat fights because from the sound of it one of those cats is dead or at the very least severely injured. Cleo wouldn't last five minutes in this place.
Speaking of survival Arabic class started yesterday and my head is spinning. I am in the process of learning the alphabet and I am a little worried that the other kids will laugh at me if I mess it up Sunday in class (yeah, the work week ends on Thursday and starts on Sunday here. I don't remember feeling this way since roughly 1st grade. I am excited to learn this language, but it is incredibly difficult. There are very few absolute rules and the entire language is sort of like a free for all as far as vowels go. I'll be sure to keep you updated.
Yesterday we visited the Citadel located in Cairo and toured five beautiful, historical mosques in the area. Upkeep of these places is very poor and the pollution in the city is obviously affecting the integrity of these structures. Similiar situation at the the Egyptian Museum. The building is drafty and very few of the artifacts are behind glass or roped off. There are some rather stern signs ordering vistors not to touch, but that made me want to touch things even more. I promise I only touched one or two ancient things and then I felt an immense amount of guilt about the oils on my hands that are now eroding those artifacts. Note to self: follow all rules concerning ancient things...
Last night we also saw sufi dancing aka whirling dervishes. This was clearly a show for tourists, but traditionally the sufis work themselves into a trance while they twirl and this is a form of mediation and worship to God. All I know is that there was this guy in a skirt that spun around for 30 minutes without stopping and that the cymbal man was moving his hips in ways that surely would have gotten him kicked out of Taylor.
Tonight we are going to the opera. Madame Buttefly. I am wearing fishnet tights and no one can stop me. Everyone thinks I'm being scandalous, but I keep telling them I'm not and that "fashion tights" are in style. Maybe I'll wear high heels and just push everyone right over the edge.
Tommorow we are headed to Alexandria for out first weekend adventure. Emily,our intern, gave us some rather ominous warnings that included: you probably won't want to shower at the hotel we're staying at, you shouldn't leave anything at the hotel while we're out, and you probably won't sleep well. Why are we doing this again? I'll tell you what I think upon my return.
This entry is officially dedicated to JTB2K4. Remember where we were a year ago? I was looking at the TJ and would like to announce that it was indeed 22 degrees below zero in Minnetonka. Could one weekend really have changed my life like that? Thanks for teaching me about community.
Thursday, January 27, 2005
Friday, January 21, 2005
I am the Horse and Camel Man
It's only been a few days since I last updated, but there is much to tell. I'll start with yesterday and move my way on back. Yesterday, 23 of 24 MESPers hopped in taxis and made our way to Giza. We were instructed to tell our cab driver to take us to the Aboul Houl (the Sphinix). When the Sphinix came into view we saw other members of our group and told the cab driver that "here is good," but apparently that wasn't good for him. We had made the fatal mistake of telling the cab driver we wanted to go horse back riding so he drove us directly to a set of stables down the road from our desired destination as I opened to the cab door there was literally a camel's face inches from mine. Meanwhile, I hear fifteeen different voices shouting: "I am the hourse and camel man." Everyone here is just so dang helpful...
Before I continue I must warn anyone that is even borderline PETA to cease and desist reading this entry; it might get messy from here. You are duly warned I will now continue. So when we finally arrived at the correct stables and we were all loaded onto our horses we headed to the sand dunes for a two hour ride around the pyramid area. Before we made it to the open desert (very much like Hidalgo) we made our way through what I can only surmise was a horse graveyard. Laying next to piles of trash along our path were countless horse caracasses at various stages of decay. Many our horses appeared to be overworked and underfed. The condition of some of the horses was somewhat disturbing and it was a reminder of the poverty that permeates the city and Cairo's inability to take care of much of its population let alone the horses. Nevertheless the ride was beautiful and now I am severly sore.
Friday: the highlight of my day was a visit to a service for girls in a poorer district of the city called Imababa. My Aunt Amani is a leader of this meeting so I went with her. The girls were fascinated with my nose ring, and at the same time slightly replused. I wear a ring on my right ring finger (in Egypt that is where you put your engagment ring) and in my very limited Arabic I was unable to convince the girls that I was not engaged. The meeting was incredible there were 150 girls meeting in this whole in the wall and a man leading worship on an accordian. The service ran over about an hour and a half. That's right count 'em 90 minutes...and nobody even blinked an eye. A wise woman once told me that time is not the comodity by which we live our lives...maybe she's part Egyptian.
Thurday, Thursday was the Feast of Sacrifice (I called it the Ieedes in my last entry, but that is a horrendous transliteration so I'll stick with the English this time). The alarm went off at 4:45 in the morning and I sort of wanted to poke myself in the eye. We met at the Villa where we have class by 5:15 and headed for the sqaure in front of the nearby mosque. We were several hours early for the prayer that would take place, but I soon understood why we had arrived so prematurely. We situated ourselves a good distance from the mosque since we would not be participating in the prayer. As we watched, the square filled with thousands of Muslims carrying their prayer mats coming from every direction and filling in all around us. There was a carnival feeling to the whole event with large bouncy balls and cotton candy being sold by wandering vendors. The call to prayer was sung over a very, very loud speaker system and lasted for almost two hours. My ears were buzzing like I had been at a Billy Joel concert or something. The prayer began just after sunrise and the sight of about 50 thousands prostrate bodies as far as U could see is something that I will not soon forget. The prayer lasted about 10 minutes and then the crowd began to disperse and we began to walk to the streets of Agouza and take in the sights, sounds and smells of the feast of sacrifice.
It wasn't long before we came upon the first of many butcher shops that was absolutely buzzing with activity. That first shop was having some trouble with one particular sheep...note to self: sharpen knife before its time to slaughter something. The Muslims were celebrating God's provision of a ram and Abraham's obeidience in his willingness to sacrifice Issac. Each family that can afford it has a sheep or cow slaughtered, gives a portion to the poor, a portion to thier neighbors, and then they feast. The street stank of with that salty smell of blood and the gutters literally ran with the scarlet liquid. The slaughter of the sheep causes me to consider the meaning of the phrase "the lamb that was slain" now that I have a somewhat vivid mental imgae to go along with it.
On a lighter note I do think that I learn something new everyday. Did you know that cows can climb up stairs but can't go down? The morning of the feast the boys woke up to find a cow in the corridor outside thier seventh floor flat making quite the fuss. The neighbors apologized for the noise and with a finger across the neck indicated that it would no longer be a problem in just a few hours. The boys told us that they did a pretty good job cleaning it up but in some places you can still see remnants of the noisy cow may she rest in peace.
So in conclusion I suppose I'm not in Kansas anymore. Everything is new and different. Welcome to the far side of the sea. I heard that there was a bad storm in the States. It's been cold here too, the other day it got all the way down to 7 degrees Celcius. Instead of shouting "Welcome to Egypt" people on the street have also been exclaiming "Welcome to Alaska." Did I mention that Egyptians are also hilarious?
Before I continue I must warn anyone that is even borderline PETA to cease and desist reading this entry; it might get messy from here. You are duly warned I will now continue. So when we finally arrived at the correct stables and we were all loaded onto our horses we headed to the sand dunes for a two hour ride around the pyramid area. Before we made it to the open desert (very much like Hidalgo) we made our way through what I can only surmise was a horse graveyard. Laying next to piles of trash along our path were countless horse caracasses at various stages of decay. Many our horses appeared to be overworked and underfed. The condition of some of the horses was somewhat disturbing and it was a reminder of the poverty that permeates the city and Cairo's inability to take care of much of its population let alone the horses. Nevertheless the ride was beautiful and now I am severly sore.
Friday: the highlight of my day was a visit to a service for girls in a poorer district of the city called Imababa. My Aunt Amani is a leader of this meeting so I went with her. The girls were fascinated with my nose ring, and at the same time slightly replused. I wear a ring on my right ring finger (in Egypt that is where you put your engagment ring) and in my very limited Arabic I was unable to convince the girls that I was not engaged. The meeting was incredible there were 150 girls meeting in this whole in the wall and a man leading worship on an accordian. The service ran over about an hour and a half. That's right count 'em 90 minutes...and nobody even blinked an eye. A wise woman once told me that time is not the comodity by which we live our lives...maybe she's part Egyptian.
Thurday, Thursday was the Feast of Sacrifice (I called it the Ieedes in my last entry, but that is a horrendous transliteration so I'll stick with the English this time). The alarm went off at 4:45 in the morning and I sort of wanted to poke myself in the eye. We met at the Villa where we have class by 5:15 and headed for the sqaure in front of the nearby mosque. We were several hours early for the prayer that would take place, but I soon understood why we had arrived so prematurely. We situated ourselves a good distance from the mosque since we would not be participating in the prayer. As we watched, the square filled with thousands of Muslims carrying their prayer mats coming from every direction and filling in all around us. There was a carnival feeling to the whole event with large bouncy balls and cotton candy being sold by wandering vendors. The call to prayer was sung over a very, very loud speaker system and lasted for almost two hours. My ears were buzzing like I had been at a Billy Joel concert or something. The prayer began just after sunrise and the sight of about 50 thousands prostrate bodies as far as U could see is something that I will not soon forget. The prayer lasted about 10 minutes and then the crowd began to disperse and we began to walk to the streets of Agouza and take in the sights, sounds and smells of the feast of sacrifice.
It wasn't long before we came upon the first of many butcher shops that was absolutely buzzing with activity. That first shop was having some trouble with one particular sheep...note to self: sharpen knife before its time to slaughter something. The Muslims were celebrating God's provision of a ram and Abraham's obeidience in his willingness to sacrifice Issac. Each family that can afford it has a sheep or cow slaughtered, gives a portion to the poor, a portion to thier neighbors, and then they feast. The street stank of with that salty smell of blood and the gutters literally ran with the scarlet liquid. The slaughter of the sheep causes me to consider the meaning of the phrase "the lamb that was slain" now that I have a somewhat vivid mental imgae to go along with it.
On a lighter note I do think that I learn something new everyday. Did you know that cows can climb up stairs but can't go down? The morning of the feast the boys woke up to find a cow in the corridor outside thier seventh floor flat making quite the fuss. The neighbors apologized for the noise and with a finger across the neck indicated that it would no longer be a problem in just a few hours. The boys told us that they did a pretty good job cleaning it up but in some places you can still see remnants of the noisy cow may she rest in peace.
So in conclusion I suppose I'm not in Kansas anymore. Everything is new and different. Welcome to the far side of the sea. I heard that there was a bad storm in the States. It's been cold here too, the other day it got all the way down to 7 degrees Celcius. Instead of shouting "Welcome to Egypt" people on the street have also been exclaiming "Welcome to Alaska." Did I mention that Egyptians are also hilarious?
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
Yellow Paint and Gasoline
So every Tuesday all 24 of the students involved in MESP go to different service project sites around Cairo. Yesterday my first day at the Good Samiritan in Moquttum hills. Moquttum is a district of Cairo were the government placed impoverished victims of the earthquake that hit Cairo in '93. The Good Samaritan serves as a conference center, orphange, and preschool...its a very well run place. We began our day with some cleaning and the Egyptians were practically rollng on the floor laughing at the way we were cleaning. They were also bewildered by the fact that I don't speak Arabic. "Khalas?" (or nothing) they ask. "Khalas" I reply. Its frustrating that I blend in so well until I open my mouth, but I am begining to remember a few things. Of course my accent is heinous to an Egyptian ear. After our cleaning exploits we were sent to paint some doors yellow. I have never experienced paint quite like this (definetly not TU ETC quality) It was all thick an sticky and my hands were soon covered in flourescent goop. When I was finished with my door the director of the project, Nabil, walked in with a can of gasoline that he proceeded to pour over my hands to clean them. I don't recall ever being quite that flammable before. So cross it off the list of things I've never done. Washing hands in gasoline--check. The kids in the preschool are on vacation, but when they come back I thing we'll be doing some teaching English which I'm looking forward to.
Tomorrow is the Ieedes. Comprable to Christmas in Islam...apparently the streets will run with blood as an animal sacrifice is invovled...we'll see how that goes for me.
Tomorrow is the Ieedes. Comprable to Christmas in Islam...apparently the streets will run with blood as an animal sacrifice is invovled...we'll see how that goes for me.
Saturday, January 15, 2005
from the Jockey Internet Cafe
So the past few days since my arrival in Cairo have been jammed packed. Maybe the longest and shortest 48 hours of my life. I live in a flat in Agouza (a district of Cairo) with 6 other girls. The are three of us in my room--Liz is from Michgan and got engaged four days ago so she's in for quite the emotional adventure. My second roommate Claire, who fully embraces being a child of the 80's, is from Georgia, but goes to school at Northwestern in MN. I think we're going to have a wonderful semster. The program emphasizes the community here and I anticipate enjoying this environment greatly. Classes start next week, but for now we are getting the hang of living and functioning in the city.
Yesterday we visited a mosque for Friday prayers and had endless meetings filled with information that very few of our jet-lagged memories will be able to recall. Last night, after some confusion, I managed to communicate to my Aunt Amani where my flat is and she picked me up for a short visit with my grandparents. It was fabulous to see them and in case anyone was wondering their Christmas tree really is a sight to behold.
Tonight is dinner at Khan el Kahlili and whirling derivishes...I'll keep you posted.
Yesterday we visited a mosque for Friday prayers and had endless meetings filled with information that very few of our jet-lagged memories will be able to recall. Last night, after some confusion, I managed to communicate to my Aunt Amani where my flat is and she picked me up for a short visit with my grandparents. It was fabulous to see them and in case anyone was wondering their Christmas tree really is a sight to behold.
Tonight is dinner at Khan el Kahlili and whirling derivishes...I'll keep you posted.
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
Next Stop Cairo
I left Des Moines on Sunday and I am in the great state of Indiana spending my last few days this side of the Atlantic with my roommate, Bonnie Green. Today, we drove up to Taylor through torrential rains; this is the last time I'll be in this place for a long time. Tying up loose ends, seeing familiar faces, saying goodye, and sharing a bed with my roommates one last time. It's good to be here and I am begining to feel a sense of finality with every moment. Yesterday, Bonnie and I had an extremely successful Wal-Mart run, then a naked burrito at Qdoba, Dance Dance Revolution, and a special guest appearance by B. Hanson in Fishers. I can't think of a better use of my time. B. Harty left for Costa Rica today--I was thinking of you today. Be watching for my next post from some exotic internet cafe in Cairo, Egypt...
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