A Day in the Life and the Meaning of Success

Ever wondered what a day in the life of me looked like here in Egypt?  Well, me too.  I'll tell you a little something about it, since I actually paid attention today.

Class at 9am.  Talk about the Egyptian sitcom we watched for homework and some short film I hardly understood.  Try to go home and take a nap before I have hours of homework before me.  Run into my language partner (weren't partnered up with fellow Egyptians to meet like once a week for two hours) who tells me that she doesn't want me to go home but stick around at the center because there is something planned and she wants me to be there for it.  She's wasn't that good at keeping it a secret so it turns out there is a Christmas surprise planned.  Santa will be there and elfs too.  There was already a pot-luck lunch planned (cutely called a "dish party" in Egyptian), which I was trying half-heartedly to avoid (using the fact that I had not brought a dish to the party as an excuse to continue feeling not social at the time), so I thought I would stick around.

Turns out Santa did show up. He was a she, and Muslim.  Have you ever had an Arabic speaking Islamic believing Santa show up at your door?  Unfortunately Santa didn't know how to announce his (her?) arrival.  I enlightened her - Ho Ho Ho!  She looked confused when I did so and I didn't hear the cheery sound again.

After the food and festivities, there was homework.  And then there was a nap.  And then there was a tram ride.  I arrived right when the tram was leaving.  I breathed a heavy sigh.  Public transportation here is kind of like look shooting dice, you never quite know what you're going to get.  I sat down and looked at some Arabic I half understood from the homework assignment.  Another train came after five minutes or so.  I boarded the train, put up the Arabic I half understood, and took out some Arabic I hardly understand at all.

Reading the Quran in public places is commonplace here and one of the beauties of being here.  It is usually read out loud in private or in a quiet voice melodically to one's self.  Here, it is understood what you are doing.  In America people don't seem to know what to think.  The train is slow and has many stops and nothing else is going on in it - other than heads nodding off to sleep, families boarding, guys and girls flirting occasionally, the young boys playing the run-along-side-the-train-until-you-can't-run-any-faster-and-then-hop-on game, and the very occasional disagreement which almost escalates into a fight - so why not read some Quran in time that would otherwise be 'wasted'?

I reached my destination - the previous apartment I just moved out of.  I was there to return an internet router I had thought my previous roommate had bought for us.  It turns out the owner of the apartment had bought it for us.  Good thing he's a good guy.  His whole family is amazing actually.  I called his son before arriving and felt like I had arrived at the meaning of success when he thought I was a friend of his at the end of the short conversation.  Besides the fact that there was a slight misunderstanding between who was speaking to who, he still thought I was an Egyptian at the end of the conversation.  Score!

When I arrived tea was served.  We talked about stuff.  Ahmed, the eldest, is in the navy.  He has a year to go.  The elections and the Ikhwan and the Salafiyeen and Isreal and the Parliament.  A show came on the TV.  Children getting abducted for ransom.  True stories.  Apparently it's a problem here in some places.  Abu Ahmed, Ahmed's dad, opens up the subject of illiteracy.  It's rampant here in Egypt, about 40% of the population suffers from it.  The conversation melts into religious talk.  I'm served a piece of cake by Abu Ahmed.  It's really delicious.  The tea is still warm, slightly.

I walk down the old familiar street.  The neighbors wonder where the heck I've been.  Apparently news hadn't reached them yet that I had moved, or they just wanted to hear it straight from the horses mouth.  I spread the greeting of peace to Ahmed, an attendant at the parking garage.  I can keep the conversation to 10 minutes if it's only him there.  If Eid, or Ehab, were around I might as well kick off my shoes.  I was happy they weren't.

I went to a clothes store I had been intending to check out, "Brands for Less."  I shopped and laughed with the sales people and felt relaxed because the prices were written on the clothes and marveled at how far we've come with this language and how far we have to go.

Then I went home, and did some homework.  And the cool thing is, I did all the above in Arabic.

That elf on the right is my language partner.  She made a pretty good one if I may say so myself.

Fun fact: How to say elf in Arabic?  Midget.  Why?  Because the idea of the fictitious winter gift-bearer and his hard working employees just doesn't really exist here.  I suppose you need to have a concept of something before you start developing vocabulary around it?

أيام مبارك وليس أياما مباركة: Those weren't blessed days...

One of our teachers yesterday told us she was really excited and happy.  We had no idea why, so she continued on.  One of the individuals she had voted for in the recent Egyptian parliamentary elections had won!  This was the first time in her life that someone she had voted for had actually won and it's not because she didn't vote....Imagine...

Egypt vs. America - shweya Hagaat...

So, I've been living in Egypt now for about three months.  Here are some observations about things in absence or things in abundance here.

Things not to be found:

1- Pull-up bars.  I'm  not talking about inside gyms, but rather in public spaces, like on running trails (which there aren't really any of those either) or public parks (ditto).  Trying to do pull-ups on door frames and the beams of hallway arches is either not a good idea or near impossible.

2- Outlets.  At least not in the capacity that were used to.  It seems, where I come from, that a lot of the time you can choose your favored seat and then plug in there - usually there's an outlet waiting to serve you within cable stretch length.  Here choosing your seat in relation to the outlet seems tantamount if you plan on using it. You might no longer be sitting in your favorite seat though.  In addition, the outlets are also positioned at odd heights, usually it seems much higher off the ground than is practical.  So that, if you wanted to charge your phone let's say it might be necessary, barring the presence of another piece of furniture already in place, to move a chair over to rest your charging phone on.  Otherwise it will be hanging in mid-air, dangling there, waiting to either become disconnected from the charger, or to pull it out of the socket.

3- Paper Towels and Toilet Paper.  Yeah, that's right.  Paper towels and toilet paper.  I'm speaking about in public places, like your coffee shop (if you're fortunate enough to be in a coffee shop that actually has a bathroom), or your mosque, or your college bathrooms at times.  Thank Goodness though, toilet paper seems to be a little more plentiful though than paper towels.

So, what is one to do in the absence of these very small, yet very valuable slips of paper?  Well, get used to using the bidet system.  You gotta do it, and there is a bidet installed on like every toilet here in Egypt.  Well, at least all the ones I've come across here.  And believe it or not, it works a lot better than only using paper - water cleans, paper kind of spreads.  Just think about it this way, your white underwear (and I still don't understand why one would wear white underwear) will stay whiter for longer.


4- Dryers, for drying your clothes.  There are usually strings attached to your balcony, in some fashion or another, for the purpose of hanging your clothes out to dry.  Otherwise there are collapsible wire frame hangers that resemble an ironing board, when unfolded, for sale for use in the house.  Thank Goodness there are washers, well at least for some of us.  Here is a picture of three of our classmates after finally purchasing a new washer.  You can imagine how the poor things must have been before the purchase if this is what they were driven to after it...no worries K, E, and E : )

Things in abundance:
1- Plastic bags. Oh my Goodness! Try being environmentally conscious in this town and you might go crazy.  If I forgot my re-usable bags in Austin, I would choose paper bags for the groceries or I would literally carry the individual items out to the car (or stuff them in my bike bag, as was more often the case) and nobody could really have given a hoot.  They either sympathized or didn't care.  Here, you can't convince somebody to not give you a plastic bag.  Buying one bunch of bananas?  It doesn't matter how far you're walking, they're going in a plastic bag.  Buying a jar of delicious nutella?  No worries, it's going in a bag.  The one time I did remember to bring a re-usable bag to the store, in the vain attempt at not having to contribute to plastic usage here, the cashier pulled a sly one on me and put all the sweet potatoes in one so he could weigh them.  One of these days...

2- Curiosity.  That's what's been getting on my nerves for the past three months.  Just last week it was brought to my attention when one of our teachers pointed out "That we [meaning the Egyptians] are very curious people."  They want to know a lot about you, like you are an interesting sample of American-ness.  It probably doesn't help that a lot of the questions are asked within a ten minute time span resulting in the same questions being asked over and over by different people.  Egyptians, also at times, seem to be surprisingly outright.  For example, my classmates and I have been sitting with some neighbors and one of them will remark, "Abdul-Latif, your friend is better than you at this language." But then they might add, "Your pronunciation is better, but he knows more words and understands better."  I can't argue with honesty.

Till next time...

My experience so far: the Egyptian school system

Studying in the Egyptian school system is as much a cultural learning experience as it is about the actual content of the course.  Actually, according to this foreigner, it's more about the former.  How have I arrived at this conclusion?  Great question.  The response: personal experience.

One, classes started a month late at the university.

Two, my first day of class started an hour late.  Why?  Because the professor arrived an hour late, strolling down the hall.  This was a main reason for me sitting in an office room impressing a couple of secretaries (I'm not certain their job title actually) about the fact that yes, I am American and yes, I am Muslim.  They are not mutually exclusive ideas contrary to popular sentiment.  The class also ended early.  A two hour class had been reduced to 45 minutes and nobody blinked an eye, except for me.

Three, the next week saw a new teacher.  Acceptable, but I have no idea as to why.

Four, the week after there was no class.  I should clarify.  There was no class at the scheduled time.  It had been rescheduled to the convenient timing of 8am on the same day.  Nobody seems to have taken into consideration that perhaps that schedule doesn't coincide with the schedule of the one study abroad student in the class.  I have a class at 9am the same day.  That's part of the reason I chose that class - it fit my schedule!  Additionally, how was I supposed to know that the class meeting had changed?  That is a question, that I still have not received an answer to and not because of a lack of asking.  Logistics.  Who needs 'em?

Who knows what next week holds, and who knows when the heck the tests are, and will I actually show up to class considering I can only be there for about 50 minutes of it and for about 45 of those there's a really good chance the professor isn't even going to show up?  Great questions, but I think I'm going to adopt an Egyptian attitude and not worry about it right now.

Paradise of the Desert: the Siwa Oasis

So, listen to this.  Imagine your in a make shift tent, the only light is from candles, it's full capacity - probably about a 75 people or so and the musicians finally arrive.  Heads shrouded in kufiyyas, their bodies donned by galabiyyas.  The drink of choice upon arrival is a refreshing elixir of Stella beer  - we we're all surprised at this, considering they are Muslims - followed by cigarettes filled with an herb other than tobacco.  The music was great though, as you should have heard by now.

That was part of day one.  The rest of that day was consumed by an 8 hour bus ride from Alexandria to the oasis and a dinner at a restaurant.

Day two was a free day.  Do whatever you want with the obvious understanding that you would explore the city and it's surroundings.  Renting bicycles is the most popular way to accomplish this task, but one classmate found a motorcycle to rent for two hours for 90 EGP.  In the background are the typical birdhouses used in Egypt for pigeons from which their eggs and the birds themselves are sold as livelihoods for some people.

The rest of us settled on paying 30 EGP for a full day's use of bicycles.  Everything you're going to want to visit is easily within biking distance and you can visit most of the sites in one day pretty easily.  Biking also puts you in pretty close contact with the surrounding environment.  It was in this way, after taking a wrong turn down a dirt road, that we picked dates off of some date trees.  There was agreement amongst us that those were the most delicious dates we'd ever experienced.  Siwa is known for its dates and its olives and that, coupled with tourism, is the basis of their economy.  There are literally forests of date tree and olive tree plantations there and it is quite an awesome sight.  

Olive trees in the front, date trees behind.

So, Egypt is called the Mother of the World, if that's true then Siwa is one of its children.  You know all those hsitory books we've opened up and studied and saw pictures of and dreamed upon about this and that here and there?  Well, Siwa could basically be about half of the material in any of those history books.  Everywhere you look is essentially a relic from Pharaonic times or Roman times.  

The first place we visited, after paying the tourist price of 30 EGP for the bikes, was the Mountain of the Dead.  Here lies dead Romans.  Natural deaths and stuff, nothing too tragic as far as I know, but the whole mountain (really just a nice sized hill) is basically a graveyard.  Instead of digging graves below into the fertile ground of the oasis they interred their dead above the ground, imbedded in the sides of the mountain.  The mountain is speckled with graves, as if someone took a really large shotgun and fired four rounds, one at each  side, each pellet carving out a grave (obviously whoever fired these shots had to reload at least once seeing as how it's illegal to not have a plugged shotgun which allows more than three shells at a time.  Thanks to the Merrill-Castleberry-Conlan family for the upbringing which taught me that : )...)  Some rooms housed families so it seemed, as some of the tombs had multiple catacombs inside one carved out grave.  Others were single units, allowing for the resting of a single soul for eternity.  

The only thing is, now the tombs aren't really housing anybody, except for silly tourists during temporary stays, as seen directly above.  All remnants and remains have been plundered and who knows what has happened to them.  And thank goodness that this is the explanation for the human skull that we found while riding around and thank goodness that we had attached ourselves to a group of classmates that had hired a tour guide (and a pretty darn good one at that) that day.  Even with that though, his hesitation in answering the question and the final conclusion that if the teeth were still intact on the jaw, which they were, meant that that person had used an antiseptic mouthwash made of dates which was in use in that area in times past pointed to the fact that this skull was old and not current didn't really do much to appease our aroused suspicion and heightened sense of awareness...but on we rode.

After the Mountain of the Dead, we biked on over to the Temple of Aamoon.  This is the place where Alexander the Great traveled seeking a prophecy from an Egyptian god at that time, Aamoon, about his divinity and right to rule.  However, one small snag caught him along the way, he died while there.  So, this is the purported place where Alex, the eponym of Egypt is buried.  However, I don't know how definitive that is or not.   In fact, most of this paragraph is just hearsay that I'm assuming contains some elements of truth to it.  Check out the pictures below.

Bruce, trying his best. : )

After that came the Spring of Cleopatra.  A naturally fed spring of water at a perfect temperature.  Here we dined and had a dip and prayed the afternoon prayer in the most humble mosque I'd ever stepped foot in.  The walls and ceiling were made out of sticks and date tree branches and the cover was low enough, but slanted slightly upwards towards the front, that I was made to lead the prayer as there was no other possibility for me to stand anywhere else without adopting a bodily position as humble as that of the mosque itself.  

Then we departed once again headed towards the Mountain of Dakrour.  Four mounts of considerable height, but fairly easy to scale in about 15 minutes or so, situated at its base a small town.  Used mainly for celebrations and an annual gathering, the units are constructed of rock only or a mud compound.  Some of the structures have roofs, some don't.  Forget about windows and doors. The posts and beams I saw in use were trunks of date trees.  If you're not an inhabitant of Siwa, there isn't much else there for you other than a special type of rock to see, once used in ancient decoration, and a great view of the surroundings from atop.

And that was about the end of the day.  Except for when we hiked down the mountain the town's kids had taken our bikes because they were good play toys which on our end translated into a little impatient waiting as the day was drawing to a close and rounding up children and our bikes wasn't exactly what we had planned on.  But, I should say, the children in Siwa and in Egypt in general are leagues more mature, comparatively speaking, than our children in America.  Those Siwi children were no exception and even though circumstances were less than desirable at that point they were a pleasure to work with - that is, after I convinced the one that had given me my bike back that I wasn't going to give it back to him so he could check to see where the other bikes were.

That's not the end of the story, but it's the end of this rendition of it.  The day after was a safari trip into the desert which included whipping through the sand dunes in Jeep wranglers at 50-70 mph with slightly deflated tires (i.e. Bedouin style roller coasters...have you ever considered how high sand dunes are, or at what angle they slope?!), two natural springs sitting opposite each other a sand dune, sand boarding, a large tent pitched in the desert for the night (you know how sand gets hot during the day? well it gets that cold at night too), and then our safari drivers as musical entertainment coupled again with beer, date wine, and hashish (much to their chagrin, none of us were willing to risk our scholarship being revoked by partaking of the home-made water bong they had constructed out of a plastic water bottle).

Additional pictures:

The Ruins of Shali:

 an abandoned town about 1,000 years old eroding away in the heart of the village of Siwa.

Final note: a special thanks to all my beloved colleague's and companions who took all these amazing photos, two of which actually include them in the picture.  Also, this blog post is not complete, nor has it been revised.  I am sure I am forgetting some great information and events, as I am also sure that the quality of writing suffers in it as well.  For that I apologize. For additional information and a much more complete blog, check out this.

Peace to all.

Honk, honk!: part 2: Microbuses

They're called microbuses.  They're a great way to cozy up with some of your fellow Egyptians while only paying a small fee and they are probably the second most effective way of travelling around town.  Second only to taxis, whose downsides are they're more expensive and you never quite know who you're going to get as a driver.  However, microbuses the fare is cheaper - basically a set price of about 1.5 EGP pounds - and your interaction with the driver is to a minimum.

The name microbus says it all, but the maximum occupancy limit reaches about 15 persons.  Some have taken showers and brushed their teeth more recently than others.  You might be able to discern this because the sitting quarters are pretty tight.  The latter entails two outcomes: keeping your hands in plain sight and the awkwardness of it becoming increasingly apparent that there is no other place for the boarding opposite sex to sit anywhere, except for next to you.  Of these two results, the first revolves around exhibiting your lack of interest in other people's pockets and what is in them of valuables.  The second involves a technical term called "micro-scooching" whose goal is to ensure as little of your thigh and remaining person, between you and your sitting com-patriot, are touching as possible.  This would be easier to do given a slight bit more leg room.

Although, the occasional hand-to-hand contact is allowed between the sexes as paying your fare involves handing your 1.5 EGP pounds to the person in front of you who hands it to the person in front of them who hands it to the person in front of them who hands it the driver who then decides whether or not the length of your transit deserves change, or not, as there are some distances only costing 1 EGP pound, and others still are only at .75 EGP pounds.  Perhaps, for example though, you paid with a 5 pound bill in which case change is then due.  If so, the driver hands your change to the person behind him who hands it to the person behind him who hands it to the person behind them who hands it to you.

Well now your settled in, snug, hopefully not thigh-to-thigh with your opposing gender transit companion as that would just be weird.  Settled in, snug, and...what's that other one I'm forgetting?  Oh yeah, safe!  Oh wait, no, I'm not forgetting that one.  Microbus drivers make ends meet by filling up their vehicle with occupants and making as many trips in as little time as possible.  Turns out this equation doesn't involve any respect for superfluous notions such as speed limits, traffic lanes, tailgating distances, or the use of blinkers.    Although, to be fair, microbus drivers share this love of theirs of using the road to its fullest with taxi drivers, motorcyclists, and car drivers alike.  In light of these circumstances, there are some helpful hints to deal with high speeds while travelling in an over-loaded, speeding vehicle on crowded roads:

-Prayer.  Perhaps the greatest gift a microbus has to offer.  You might never feel so directed towards God as you will when you ride a microbus praying for safe arrival.  You might be held safe in the hands of God during the whole ride, but whether or not you recognize that is another issue...
-Look out the side windows and avoid looking ahead.  You know like when you climb up high on a ladder and folks tell you not to look down?  Apply that same vertical logic to a horizontal scale.
-Practice turning involuntary actions, like raising your hands or straining your neck from fear of impending collision, into seemingly purposeful ones.  For example, consider smoothing your hair out a little, as if that's what you originally intended to do, after your hand lifts itself up to help prevent a game of bumper cars from actualizing.

I think, so as not to keep you any longer, we'll end here.  The next entry though will cover the all important question of, how does one actually know which microbus to catch?  There are Lord knows how many of them and choosing the right one is after all essential, as failing to do so might result in a blog entry like that found under the title of "Mish Masri! Mish Masri!"  Although the Holiday of Slaughter is coming up on Sunday...that might take precedence over an entry about hand signals!

Nutella...

It tastes so much better over here!

Honk, Honk!: part 2 is also coming to a blog post near you soon...!

!!يا ايمالي

فدالوقت انا باتبع مدون كوري ولورا ومش عارف مين كمان لكن انا ما سمعتش حاجة في اللي بتاعك انت إلا انه فيه مدون او حاجة.  فالسؤال بقى انه انا هكون قادر اقرأ المدون بتاعك؟ انا عايز الشارع ده, يعني شارع المدونات, يكون شارع بتاع حارتين مش حارة واحدة...وبس

: )

My apologies to the readers of this blog, as this post is obviously limited to a selected audience, but hopefully it's meaningful enough to make a post out of it!  Oh, and the post is coded in Egyptian dialect which Google Translate doesn't speak too well, so have fun copying and pasting!  The translation looked pretty disastrous when I tried it...

Honk, Honk!: part 1

Traffic and transpostation is probably the largest subject I could hope to tackle here on this media interface.  There are, depending on who you talk to, everyone seems to have a different number, anywhere from 8 million to 12 million people in Alexandria.  And everybody needs to go somewhere at just about any time of the day.  There aren't many times when the streets are not bustling with combustible-gasoline-fed energy.

Types of public transportation:

1) Taxi - On the roads of Cairo in 2008 there were 1 million taxis pummeling the streets.  I wouldn't doubt it if there were that many in Alexandria by this point.  Taxis are popular but more expensive.  You can expect to pay about a dollar for a ride to most places in the city.  You can also expect to ride often with more than one passenger as the driver will pick up other customers along the way.

Bargaining is an essential part of riding taxis.  If you're Egyptian expect to pay the proper price and not receive any flack from the driver about him being shorted.  If you're a foreigner, especially one that doesn't speak Arabic, expect to be generously overcharged.  I would estimate an average overcharge to be about double the actual price.

There are no meters either.  Well, there are no meters in actual use.   You can see the meter sitting on the dashboard, screen blank, probably having not been used in who knows how long.  If the meter were to actually work that would probably put a dent in exploiting foreigners...

The way in which you pay the taxi is also of importance.  You don't sit in the cab and fumble through your pockets looking for exact change.  No!  Alight from the taxi, close the door, and pay from outside.  If you know that the price you paid is correct, don't tarry waiting for his approval, rather turn and walk away.  Asking Egyptian friends before riding is a good way to estimate the appropriate prices for individual trips.

If the taxi driver knows you are a foreigner, and a clueless one at that, there is a possibility he's going to prolong the trip by taking a different route, or getting stuck in traffic, for the purpose of increasing the fare.  Knowing the route and knowing where to pick up the taxi is essential so as to shorten the route and lessen the fare.

2) Microbus - coming in the next edition
3) Tram - dido
4) Bus - don't have much experience with them.  They seem crowded, rowdy, and cheap though.

p.s. - i would say the above picture is no where near an exaggeration of how driving on the streets of Alexandria looks. 

Jeepers Creepers, why do you keep staring at me with those eyes?

Me: It's weird when I catch people staring at me and as soon as I look at them they avert their gaze [as if their eyes were just passing by me].

Corey: Yea. But, I'm more concerned about those that don't avert their eyes when I catch them, and they just continue staring at me. [As he bored his eyes into me, a lifeless expression displayed on his face in imitation of those people.]

That was probably one of the funnier things I'd heard as of recent.  To put it into context, I'm kind of tall and don't dress like a very good Egyptian for my age, but I do have black hair and a beard and might pass for something other than American, perhaps Arab.  Corey, however, has no escape route.  Blonde-haired, blue-eyed, with pretty white skin.  To picture him, think stereo typical German, or Swiss, or Austrian, or something similar.

You kind of get used to heads turning in your direction...

Who knew I was Pakistani? : Part 2

When being asked where I hail from, I've taken to turning the question back around on the person asking.  Partly because I want to know their thoughts, partly because I get asked the question so often it's nice to switch up the conversation, and thirdly it extends the conversation.  Here is a list of all the places I have been asked or assumed I was from.

Pakistan - by far tops the list.  

India - a close second.

Morocco - apparently my accent has some elements of Moroccan dialect in it.  I got asked this even from some of our teachers back in America.

Kuwait - or some Gulf Emirate in general, for the same reason as above.

a Levantine country - I don't remember which one and I don't remember why either.

Libya - it was a shot in the dark attempt by a taxi driver.

Oman - There is a mosque nearby the apartment that I've prayed in a few times.  The farthest any conversation between myself and another congregant has ever gone is the formulaic greeting of peace.  The neighborhood is small and everybody is on a first name basis with each other; my presence as a newcomer is certainly perceived. Apparently word spread somehow that I was from Oman.  

Bosnia - Let's not forget this anomaly.  It's also the newest of the bunch.

So that basically covers about half of the Arabic speaking world.  If Libya, Tunis, Yemen, Iraq, Saudi Arabia, and hopefully Egypt, come into play I'll be sure to update.

The confusing story of me to Egyptians continues, and other events

"Oh, you speak Arabic well...[are you] Bosnian?"

That's what my taxi driver this morning told me.  So add Bosnia to the list of my possible origins!

That was right before the car ahead of us rear ended the car turning in front of him because there is no organization to the streets here other than un-organization.  Then he, my taxi driver, proceeded to yell out the passenger window, pinning me between the seat and his outstretched right arm, pointing finger and all, in defense of the one who was rear-ended.  And that's because there is no officially followed or obeyed system for driver's insurance here.  Instead the two parties just work it out on the spot deciding who pays what and how much.

Literally, if you can imagine braiding hair with cars, that's what the streets of Alexandria look like.  Occasionally the hair gets a knot in it.

It's fall,...

...and the trees of Alexandria are blooming.  And as far as I know, this city doesn't know frost.

Talk like an Egyptian

So, here's the thing, Egyptians are sweet talkers.  Real sweet.  There are about thousand expressions to learn, but the one for right now is, "Just five minutes."

Before the actual flight over here, we had a day-and-a-half pre-departure orientation/culture-adaptation workshop in D.C.  One major point I picked up on and thought might come in handy later then, was "reading between the lines" of people's speech and expressions.  Right now, it's 3:45 in the AM.  I walked over to my neighbors front door 6 hours ago.  Guess what phrase the conversation started with?

This is kind of like when the taxi driver tells you, "It's on me."  He was impressed with your Arabic (the Arabs know their language is hard and are proud of it.  They respect it when others take the effort to learn it) and doesn't extend his hand to accept the payment immediately.  He doesn't mean don't pay me.

I was caught off guard by the first taxi who pulled this one.  I nearly believed him.  I almost just thanked him and climbed out, but figured paying at least half would be appropriate.  So I offered him the 5 Egyptian pounds out of the 10 total.  He smiled.  And then said, still smiling, "The other five too."

Point in case here, any estimate of time (for a casual event, that is) valued at less than about two hours holds no water and is not worth its salt.  Also reading "between the lines" requires cultural understanding and experience.

Other examples of smooth talk from Egyptians:

Myself, Joey, and Ryan were eating outside of Tibawy restaurant.  Three young Egyptians students, probably about 20 years old each, keep stealing glances our way.  One was practically staring.  I suppose it's not every day you see three white dudes talking Arabic in a funny accent on the streets of Alexandria.  I turned towards them, smiling, and said, "We pretty much look exactly like Egyptians, huh?" kind of playing with the obvious.  "No. There are no Egyptians with that beauty," he responded!

It doesn't seem to matter where your from, when you say your from such-and-such place, the response is "[those people are] the best of people."

There is another one that I am not remembering at the moment...I'll write it down here when I remember it, God willing.

The Stone of Rashid, er, I mean the Rosetta Stone

Oh, and yesterday we visited the place where the Rosetta stone was discovered: the city of Rashid, to the East of Alexandria.  In French Rashid is pronounced Rosetta...

Pretty cool stuff.  More on it all to come soon though, God willing.

Boo! I've risen from the dead!

Define "really cool".

You might go to the dictionary.  That might work.   Most likely though you won't actually find a definition for "really cool," and even if you did it will probably lack experience and be a little dry.

Try looking a little further down the road.  Yeah, over there. About one tram ride, a little walking, and then a microbus ride, and then some more walking through dirt streets strewn with litter, shops of all sorts, the only people of which sitting out front are men with hookahs and moustaches, children dodging cars, sheep, chickens, peoples eyes following you because you just can't hide your foreign-ness and your in a group, which always draws more attention (albeit this one was only a total of six, two of which were Egyptians), being led by a 10 year old not in his school uniform.  And then your there.

Roman tombs.  1800 years old in the heart of a backwater neighborhood in Alexandria, Egypt.

A place which was discovered by accident [is there really such a thing?] and was once 20 meters buried underneath the surface of the earth. The underground tombs are probably another good 30 meters underneath the current soil surface.  You can't really take pictures there so I'm kind of at a loss to be able to explain it fully.  But the artwork and the carvings on the walls and the depictions of their gods and the tombs themselves and the process by which they transported the corpses down...

And then you emerge back to the top and think, "I'm standing in the midst of history.  What a different [and at the same time, the same] world it was back then."

One thing is for sure though, if we had those same Roman architects and masons and carpenters working to build our housing structures and buildings these days, the quality of construction would be much higher.  The process might be slower, but the end product would be amazing and last at least 1800 years.  Think about that the next time you have to tape and float your sheet rock!

p.s. - click here if you want to read up a little more on the catacombs.  

It's not the Blob

One striking facet of life here in Alexandria is the relationship between stray animals and humans.  And there is no shortage of either!

What I've noticed though is that the animals have no fear of humans. They do not perceive us as a threat.  I don't know if I've ever met stray animals that haven't been scared of us. These cats and dogs hardly even glance over their shoulder to acknowledge your presence.  Nor are they interested in being petted, and nor does there seem to be anybody interested in petting them.

Just remember though if you ever think you see the piles of trash on the streets moving, it's not the Blob come to get you.  It's just meal time for your furry neighbors.

Mish MaSri! Mish Masri!

To date, so far, I think I've only angered two Egyptians.  I'd say that's doing pretty good.

The first of the two I thought was over-charging me and I showed my dis-satisfaction and then he reacted.  He knew I was a foreigner.  

The second of the two was a shared-cab bus driver (i.e. - microbus, or mashru'a).  I got on and then realized I was on the wrong bus and immediately asked him to pull over.  He got a little upset and raised his voice and I apologized as he was kind of ranting on.  The other passengers recognized my accent straight away as non-Egyptian and they called out to the driver, "Mish MaSri, mish MaSri!!" "He's not Egyptian, he's not Egyptian!!"  Two things probably important to know about this are, if I was Egyptian I would have known the bus and not gotten on it in the first place, and you also pay during the ride in the micro-buses (not at the beginning like CapMetro buses).  So by assuming that I was Egyptian he was assuming that I was taking advantage of him.

Live and learn, slowly but surely.

Mom, if I smell like smoke...

...chances are it wasn't me who was smoking!  It's only that about 99% of the population here smokes non-stop.  Although I did try about two or three puffs from the hookah of one of our classmates, Nicholas, yesterday...but that was it! I promise!

Oh, and a couple more things...

The beginning of the week doesn't start on Monday.  It starts on Sunday.  Friday and Saturday are the weekend, which is pretty nice for Muslim folk and I assume that's probably the reason why it is that way.

There is no maximum occupancy to moving vehicles.  Well, there is, it just doesn't match up with the more American perception of the number of available seats equals the number of seat belts.  Just squeeze in.  It's all good.

Out of the small number of showers and sinks I have experienced here, I have not yet felt hot water come out from one of them.  They all seem to reach a maximum heat of pleasantly cool.

Clothes hooks are also nearly non-existent.  I've seen maybe 6 my whole time here.

Oh, and waiting in lines.  You can just about forget about that here.  Just kind of push your way up to the front with your money held out and don't worry if you cut somebody else in line.  You'll literally never order if you're worried about who was there first, or it's his turn not mine.  And don't be afraid to interrupt the transaction just before you by ordering before they're done talking.  It's all about timing.  Like, they're just about to be done and then you say, "I want this or that."  'Please' seems to be an after-thought.

Alexandria, Through Foreign Eyes

The horn is the most important part of the car.  You’ll you know what I’m talking about if you’ve ever been in a big city I suppose.  More on this in a post, hopefully soon to come, on the traffic here.

2)      Just about everything, so it seems, is broken in one way or another but somehow it still works, as it probably always has.

3)      It’s really dirty here.   The streets are littered with trash.  The sea is foaming at the mouth with it.  Anything resembling a receptacle able to contain liquids or solids becomes a trash can.  Basically you just throw your trash on the street and keep on walking.  The environmentally conscious of us seem to hold onto their plastic bags or bottles until the pretty rare phenomenon of a trash can is sighted. 

4)      There is no recycling.  At least not that I have seen.  My roommate and I have collected so far 8 empty plastic bottles (most of them 1.5 litres large) on the dining-room table because we just don’t know what else to do with them.  Additionally, just about the only water safe for drinking for non-Egyptians is bottled.  Catch 22?  And even then one needs to be careful that the bottle hasn’t just been refilled from tap water or the such.

5)      Taxis are a dime a dozen.  As are the microbuses which are cheaper, but more crowded, and not as exact about your destination.

6)      If you’re a foreigner, suck it up, you’re going to get ripped off.  An Egyptian friend is probably the best asset you can have in this city.

7)      The city comes alive at night.  Going to be bed at 1 or 2am might be considered a little early.  So far, I’ve been going to bed way early.

8)      Asking for directions is always a bit fun.  Alexandrians are very friendly and want to help.  They’ll give you directions even when they’re not sure of the exact location.  Asking more than one person is a good idea.  Though, often times, the directions are right on.

Who knew I was Pakistani?

I've got about a hundred things I could write about right now, but I think I'll start with the following.  Apparently I look really Pakistani, or Indian, depending on the person I'm talking to.  I've had at least four people ask me if i am from Pakistan, or comment on how Pakistani I look. It's the beard and the hat apparently.  I've also had people ask me if I'm from Russia, Syria, and Morocco.

There is one thing for certain though: I do not look Egyptian.  Peoples eyes on the other side of the city can see my foreign-ness.  I was amazed early on at how well tuned Arabs ears are hearing the different dialects spoken and differentiating between them.  Now I am amazed at how well Egyptian eyes can spot a foreigner.  

Some Things to Miss, Some Things to Anticipate

The fact that Egypt is not going to be like what I'm used to is not making the slow realization currently dawning upon me, that some of my favorite things just won't be available over there, any easier to cope with.  Here is a small list of items, some edible and some not, that I am conflicted about whether to wean myself off of, or indulge as much as possible in, before not having any in either case.  The month of Ramadan is obviously presently inhibiting the latter option. The second list is an effort to balance this realization with a more positive side: things to look forward to.

Things I'm already crying over not having while I still have them:

1) Really good coffee! I work as a barista at a specialty coffee shop.  If you haven't ever experienced the beauty of correctly poured espresso and all that comes along with it, then I'm afraid you have no idea what I'm talking about.  I don't think I can expect to find perfectly extracted espresso, with a full body of crema, delicately served with milk frothed and textured according to micro-foam demands and located somewhere between the temperatures of 132F - 145F.  I imagine I'll be settling for black tea brewed strong and hot, and some Turkish coffee sweetened until a pen can stand up straight in the cup.

2) Breakfast Tacos!  Is there really anything else to eat for breakfast?

3) My Masi Speciale CX.  My main form of exercise and transportation.  I ride it more than I drive my Honda: the bike gets about 5 or 6 days a week of usage and the car about one. I outfitted it with large sparrow-style handlebars, Ergon grips, Paul thumbies, and SPD clip pedals.  As far as I know, bike riding is next to non-existent in the Arab World.  Not only is exercise not on the top of the list, but you'd be akin to a mad-man to attempt sharing space with the traffic in Alexandria.  That video gives a whole new meaning to walking like an Egyptian, huh?


4) Gardening.  I probably won't be able to do much to help make the Earth a little greener, or therapeutically connect with my origins, or endeavor to gain religious/spiritual reward by helping to provide food sources for our winged, feathered, and furry friends.


As for some things to look forward to:


1) Kanafe and Egyptian food in general.


2) The Mediterranean Sea and Alexandrian coast line.


3) Haggling with cab drivers and shop keepers, let's not forget about that!


4) Visits to mosques, churches, Cairo, Sharm ash-Shaikh, gatherings of the remembrance of God


5) and of course, the Egyptian people!


The links are essential to this post.  There are also probably way too many of them.  Patti, just be sure to click on all the orange words : )  Thank you for being my grandmother.  I love you.

Destination: Umm ad-Dunya

Literally translated, Umm ad-Dunya means Mother of the World, and this is the name affectionately cast onto Egypt by her children, all current 80 million of them and those who came before them.  Right now I live in the greatest country in the United States, that is to say, Texas, and at that I reside in the oasis of Texas, that is to say, Austin.  Soon though, t-minus 17 days (Sept. 7) God willing, will see myself and a number of classmates return to the bosom of Mother Earth to further our studies in the Arabic language.


Alexandria is our destination.  Coastal, temperate, and dripping with history.  If you think Nacogdoches is old, try about 2300 years for the coastal city as compared to about 230 years for the East Texas town.  Yep, that's right, 2000 extra years of war, civilization progressing and regressing, the changing tides of religion, and the transferring of empires from one to another.  Hopefully, what that means for us, are some cool pictures, exposure to people, experiences, and cultures not our own, and the all important knowledge which is of benefit.


Welcome, or as the Arabs say, Ahlan wa sahlan!