Waiting in Lines...err, waiting?

It doesn't happen.  Well, Ok, I'm being a little facetious.  I have seen it happen before, when there was military presence to ensure it.  That was during the recent elections here.  Other than that though you're going to be hard pressed to find single-file lines forming.

I want us all to do a little activity.  You'll need a pen/pencil and a piece of paper for this.

Step 1:  Fold the paper in half width-wise and then open it back up.  You now have a crease dividing the paper into two halves.
Step 2: Position the paper so that the crease is angling directly at you, perpendicular to you, from where you're sitting, if you will.  In effect, the paper should be rotated 90 degrees from how we would normally write on it.
Step 3: Take your pen and draw, on the left side of the two halves, a semi-circle at the top of the half.  If this was to be a complete circle the other half would be found off the paper, presumably on your drawing surface.  Step 4: Now, draw a straight line from your semi-circle to the bottom of the page.  Good?

Good.

Step 5: On the other half of the paper repeat step 3 above.
Step 6: Now, around the new semi-circle draw a lion's mane, or pretend like your drawing the Sun's flames, or your young son's curly hair, or just draw consecutive, yet inter-weaving, concentric semi-circles.

Take a step back and look at your artistry.

Congratulations!  You've just represented the concept of waiting in lines in America and in Alexandria, Egypt.  The semi-circles at the top of the page stand for cashier stands and what extends out from them, or crowds around them, are the customers.  Can you decipher which line you're used to waiting in?

Point in case, it's just kind of the way things work here.  There seem to be some general guidelines: the American concept of waiting politely in lines will not benefit you here; take the initiative;  don't be offended when somebody just absolutely "cuts in line" ahead of you (you should probably be trying to do the same to somebody else!).

I can't tell how you many times I've been smack-dab in the middle of a transaction with a store clerk and somebody else comes in and just blerts out what he wants, or jumps in front of me and lays money down in front of the cashier.

Another common situation is when you enter the store and the clerk is just talking with somebody and it's obvious that the conversation is not work related, or a another transaction.  Don't wait until he turns to give attention to you!  Oh no.  Just go ahead, confidently and assertively, say a greeting (which in effect breaks the ice, draws attention to you, and is in general a polite thing to do, and as far as I can tell, considered rude if you don't) and ask for what you want.  Otherwise you'll be waiting for who knows how long.

I used to think that this way of interacting with others was pretty rude.  I can't say that I have completely accepted it or warmed up to it, but it is the way things, for the most part here work, and it's effective.  It is also not considered rude within this society's culture and context.

Translate this general attitude and ways of going about things into the context of driving cars and you get very interesting results...More to come on that soon God willing.

A Small Taste of the Wide World of Arabic

Here's an example of how Arabic can get a little confusing and/or complicated at times:

al-farsh: household furnishing, mats, linens, etc. (الفرش)

al-firaash: bed (الفراش)

al-faraash: wheel of a mill, or butterflies (الفَراش)

al-farraash: errand boy, office boy (الفرّاش)

The conjugations of the verb also give rise to meanings of painting, to spread out, and by extension either loosening your tongue or sleeping with a women, for example.

Today was test day.

We had a short reading and then were required to answer five questions.  Each question in turn requiring a 150 word answer, the last of which though was 200 words.  We had two hours to complete the exam.  Needless to say, none of us, as far as I know, finished it in its entirety.

Anyways, at the beginning of it, we're all looking it over and Tim, stating the obvious, says, "Oh man, it's in Arabic."

Haha!

There's a butcher shop at the end of our street.

It's on the corner with the side windows facing our small street and the front facing the main street ours dead ends into.  It's small, but they seem to do a generous amount of  business.  They hang large hooks - that are large enough they look like they could be used to fish for sharks - attached to chains from an overhead metal bar outside the door of the shop.

This is very convenient for them and very inconvenient for pedestrians.  This is because the front of their shop is also the sidewalk.  The walkway is often bloody right there and squeezing by another person makes for a fun game of avoid-the-hanging-carcasses.  In addition, turning the corner brings one face-to-face with one half of a skinned cow carcass, or a goat, or some other dangling body pieces.  It took a little bit of getting used to, but it's second nature now avoiding them at the end of the street.  I still tend to think of the potentials as being disastrous though.

The chopping block is set up outside the shop at the end of our small street.  It is literally a tree stump nailed to three pieces of 2x4's forming a tri-pod structure about three feet in height.  Those vertical 2x4's (i.e. the legs) are in turn reinforced by three horizontal 2x4 pieces acting as spacing and stability.  The end result resembles a bar stool.   They chop up cow heads and feet on it with an axe, or a large knife.  I was struck the other day by cow feet shrapnel as I was walking by.  The butcher didn't even notice; he was talking with two others as he was chopping away.


  

Winter in Alexandria

It's not that cold, per se, perhaps only dipping down into the teens - celsius that is : ).  So the problem isn't actually the temperature itself, but rather the fact that you get used to 50 F being freezing.  There is also, at times, a howling wind from the ocean that will turn your umbrella inside out or cause you to lean forward while walking.  The temperature drops a little at that. There are also not really heaters inside the homes.  I don't think any student, out of any of the apartments we're in, has a heater in their place.  It's colder inside usually than it is out.

It also rains a lot.  I don't think I've seen yet a violent, pounding rain, but it does come down generously and it might last for some time.  One of the rain's more favored times seems to be early morning around 5:30-6:00a.  It also visits during the day though at intermittent intervals.  Rain is great.  I couldn't agree more.  Alexandria's drainage system is not though.

As the last post shows, some get high-tided by a lack of a working drainage system and poor street designs.  I've heard that the drainage holes have actually been installed somewhat elevated on the walls in a certain area of town.  I don't know the veracity of that report though.  While there are extreme cases usually the most one has to deal with are puddles accumulated around the sidewalks.  Usually these puddles gather at the end of the sidewalk, where you would like to be stepping off of it.  The situation is compounded by the fact that the puddle sometimes extends out from the curb  farther than you are able, or willing, to jump and the fact that the water has brought all sorts of debris with it making for a muddy, trashy landing spot.  Not only that but often the parked cars follow the curves of the sidewalk exactly, like a Christmas fringe decoration hugging a door frame, thus effectively blocking the end of the sidewalk in any case, but they are also parked so close to each other as to make walking between the front and rear bumper of the two automobiles a squeeze at least or impossible at most.  The only option open to you now is to take a minor detour of about two cars, until you find an opening and a somewhat clearer landing pad.

There yet remains another problem: gutters.  I took their use and utilitarian design in the good 'ol US of A as a granted.  The water hits your roof, rolls down over the shingles, slides into the gutter, single file line, and empties out neatly where the gutter mouth is positioned very near the ground.  At the most you might be mildly offended that you have to raise your footsteps ever so slightly higher as you cross over the run-off.  Let's look at the picture in Egyptian terms.

To begin, the roofs are not slanted.  They are flat.  I have no idea what happens up there with them.  Does a mini-lake form before finally reaching enough volume to begin pouring through the gutter spout?  Or maybe the roofs are slightly titled in the direction of the gutter.  Who knows?  In any case, I hesitate to call this drainage system a system, or at least a well thought out one at that.  The "gutters" here are, in reality, a pvc pipe, the total length of which being estimated at about 4-5 feet.  It is placed somewhere along the roof line and funnels the water build-up off the roof and onto the street.

Now, picture this, anywhere from a 3 to a 13 tall story building with a pvc pipe creating a free-fall water fall off the roof onto the street below.  How wide are the streets again?  Oh, about wide enough to park one car on the side and squeeze another by, barely.  During a downpour this makes for interesting walking conditions.  Even during light rains the water comes down somewhat heavily out the pipes.

Compounding the situation is the fact that is not just one pipe per building, or per side of the building, yet there seem to be multiple ones, randomly placed.  They might jut off at different angles and be facing different directions.  I've seen some of them pouring water out when the sky is clear also.  I've been slightly scared to think about what that water is and where it is coming from.

Who wants to take the kids swimming?

I'm back!  But not for long.

Apparently it rains a lot here in Alex in the winter and that's just what it's been doing, on and off, for about a week or more now.  It's an interesting discussion due to other considerations, but I thought I would post this picture as it shows something of an unfortunate reality in Egyptian day-to-day life: a lack of infrastructure.

Keep in mind, the whole city is not like this.

Making tea

I'm sitting in the dining room.  I've been sitting here for a good 3 hours.  I've cooked some food and had dinner; the call to prayer for both the sunset prayer and the evening prayer has been given and city has prayed them both; my American roommate has left to go to a cafe; I'm on my second cup of black tea with mint leaves.  The only time I saw our Egyptian roommate was when I first returned home three and half hours ago and that was only when he was crossing the hall to enter his room.

But he did happen to come out a second time about thirty or so minutes ago when I was in the process of making my first cup of tea.  The first thing he says is, "You didn't even ask me if I wanted any!  You Americans aren't social at all.  Your recluse lifestyle is wrong."  He was hiding his smile, but you have to understand that he was genuinely, even if only slightly, offended.  Egyptians are social people.  Very social.  You can make a new best friend in minutes. You can expect to get invited over for tea the first time you meet somebody.  You'll hold hands with the person you just met while walking down the street.  And, you can also expect them to get offended slightly when you don't return the same level of hospitality.

Egyptians aren't product oriented.  They're relationship oriented.  I didn't actually believe that when I came over here - I'd never really experienced it - but it's true, absolutely true.  Three hours of talk is a lot more meaningful than meeting deadlines.

They have also preserved their community neighborhood feel too.  Everybody knows each other and their daily schedules.  In America we call our kids in at dark.  In Egypt it seems like they push them out the doors.  You can hear kids playing in the streets well into the night, past midnight.  Giving kids a candy wouldn't be considered weird at all.  I don't think anybody would even think to check if the wrapper had been opened or not already (that might be because half the stuff you buy here has seems like it has already been opened, dented, or re-used in some way in any case).

I'd love to write more, but I've got another paper to write.  It's about how sectarian strife and social problems in Syria originated with the French and the foreign policies of their selfish mandate after the First World War.  I'm almost done.

Paying the bawwab

So, I've received a request for the story of under paying the bawwab.  Well, you see, the story is much more than just a simple transaction carried out between two parties.  Oh no, we'll have to start somewhere nearer the beginning of this one to really cover it well.

Transactions here aren't like in the US.  Or, perhaps I should say, transactions in the US aren't like here.  That's because buying and selling here is probably much like the rest of the world.  What I mean is, when was the last time you had to haggle with someone? or barter?  When was the last time you didn't feel like you had enough money to just pay whatever the man was asking for? When was the last time you doubted that the clerk was selling you the object at the listed sales price?

Generally speaking, in Egypt, if there isn't a price tag attached to it that's because the price is flexible.  Which means the guy selling you the stuff wants to milk the transaction for all it's worth, which means you're going to want to do some haggling.  Working off of the assumption that you the reader, whoever you are, are not Egyptian nor do you resemble one by looks nor habits, nor do you speak Arabic, nor do you look like you know what you're doing, here are some general guidelines for you when buying things in Egypt:

One, take whatever price you've been given and divide it by half.  That's probably something close to what an Egyptian would be paying.  Now you can reasonably shoot for paying something close to the middle of those two extremes.  Some beautiful advice I heard in this regard was if you don't know how much the item costs, know how much you're willing to pay for it.

Two, don't buy at touristy locations - you're just asking to get ripped off.

Three, take an Egyptian friend with you - they act like a shield protecting you from those long fingers of the seller.

Four, ask about prices before you go shopping.

Five, just shop where they have price tags.  You won't have to worry about any of the above, theoretically.

What does all of this mean for our new apartment here?  Well, when we came to check out the apartment we sat down with the landlord to discuss prices.  Thank Goodness that the director of the program was there to do the bargaining for us.  So the landlord put forth the price of 3,000 EGP.  We apparently weren't going to accept anything but 2,500 EGP as the price.  So Robert just immediately dropped the price down to 2,500 and kept persistent at it until the landlord conceded, the latter probably knowing all along that was bound to happen in any case.

In any case, throughout the conversation we agreed to pay the bawwab a one time initial sum of 100 EGP.  That's a sweeping reward for any bawwab!  This was our first experience with this though and we were at the lead of Robert, so we agreed as he had.  The important thing though is that the landlord mentioned during the course of these negotiations that after we pay that first month we would just be obliged to pay "something symbolic" each following month, mentioning about 10 or 20 EGP as being appropriate.

All of the above took place at the beginning of December.

Now it's January and only our second month here.  So the bawwab's due came at the first and that's when he wished me a "kulla shahr wa anta tayyib" and that's when we paid him 20 EGP.  The upper limit of the suggestion of our landlord and it wasn't done without forethought either.  We consulted our Egyptian roommate, Hatim, who brushed off anything over 20 EGP as superfluous and I knew that another group of students pays 50 EGP for their bawwab.  Whenever the topic is brought up their Egyptian roommate nearly shakes his head in disgust at having to pay that much.  So 20 EGP seemed like a sure bet.

The landlord came by to collect rent at the first of the month too.  He made sure to drop us the line though that the bawwab complained to him that we had only paid 20 EGP...!!!  Hatim emphasized the fact that the only thing he does is carry the trash to the dumpster and that we could do that if necessary, no problem.  I reminded the landlord of his telling us about 10 or 20 EGP a month.  He didn't seem too accepting of these ideas, which was pretty frustrating.  Turns out, this was one of those circumstances where the theme of the last blog entry is incredibly pertinent as well: reading between the lines.  The only problem is sometimes it's hard to read like that until you skip over a line or two and then step on somebodies toes and then go back and review your lesson and see what subtleties were impossible for you  to notice the first time around.

In closing, after about three or four days of what we saw as a noticeably dis-heartened bawwab, I snuck off and paid him an extra 30 EGP so as to lighten the situation.  The only question remaining really is, what the heck are we going to do for the coming month?!

This entry dedicated to TC : )

p.s. - a note from the previous entry - gamid giddan = really awesome. 

Beloved of my heart...

"How are you, my beloved?"  We had just finished praying at the mosque next door to our place and an older man sat down behind me and started putting on his socks.  He said the above.  I think he half expected me to be Egyptian.  I wasn't though, but I responded appropriately and I don't think I sounded too foreign so he didn't push the envelope.  "My beloved" or "Habibi" is a phrase in common use amongst just about everybody here - between friends, between parent and child, between teacher and student is even possible.  Another common wording is "Beloved of my heart" or "Habib 'albi".  I've started using both more as of late, they're very endearing words.

Another phrase which is going to require some background was said to me by our bawwab, who is kind of like a guard of sorts at your apartments.  He usually lives at the apartments, might be married and have kids or not, and is responsible for collecting your trash bags (which you place outside your door) and is otherwise available for running small errands for you if you so desire.  A key to be made, some bread to eat, some medicine from the pharmacy, etc.  His wages come from the tenants of the apartments who pay anywhere from about 20 EGP to 50 EGP.  Bawwabs are usually stereotyped into having come from the south of Egypt and as being of a lower education level than others.  Having a troublesome bawwab can make for uncomfortable living situations as some of the experiences of our classmates attest to.

Joey, Tim, and Ahmad found their bawwab stealing from them while they were sleeping in their rooms.  It wasn't the first time he had been in.  It turns out all that money they thought had just been misplaced actually had another story attached to it.  The icing on the cake is that the bawwab gets to stay at the apartment building and they have to find another place to live.

Another apartment of girls had to actually get the director of our program, Robert (who is gamid giddan!), here involved with the situation with their bawwab.  Robert ended up breaking the bawwab's cigarette in front of his face and calling him a liar.  Apparently that was the most appropriate way to handle their issue with him and as far I know things settled down after that.

The Egyptian-American house (affectionately named for being two apartments basically attached together and for being a hub-hub of student activity outside of the university) hasn't mentioned one positive quality to me yet about their bawwab.

Our bawwab, Usama, however seems to be nothing of the above.  I have only found positive qualities in him. He doesn't smoke cigarettes.  His kids are gorgeous and love him and he seems to always have the front door to the apartments covered in one way or another and does his job well.  Which is basically why we pay him monthly.  So...

The beginning of this month was a new year.  In Egypt they say, "Kulla sana wa anta tayyib" meaning something like I wish the best for you all year.  It's a common phrase in holiday seasons and it's in use constantly.  So when Usama and I crossed paths in front of the apartment and said to me, "Kulla shahr wa anta tayyib" the same phrase except the word "year" was replaced with the word "month", I was thoroughly confused.  I couldn't place the significance of the word "month" in this context.  I responded, somewhat awkwardly, with the same phrase but one upped it by saying "two-months" instead of one.  That would be akin to doubling whatever kindness and well-wishing is found within the phrase and it is nearly expected of one to do so.

For example, if someone says to you, "You brightened the place" upon your arrival, you would say in return, "That's your light!"  Or if someone were to say to you, "God bless you" you can say "The blessing is in you!"  I sometimes feel that half of any conversation is composed of formulated greetings and blessings passed around amongst the conversants.

In any case, it took me about 10 seconds or more to realize the intent of Usama's words and that was after him actually asking me if I understood or not.  He was asking and reminding me, rather politely, of his due for the new month.  Phrases like this and Egyptian speech in general are coded in niceties and indirect ways of expressing one thing while saying another.  Reading between the lines and gathering cultural experience  is crucial here.

Let's not go into the fact that we under-paid our bawwab, that's a whole other story.

Hey neighbor, wanna get married?

Well, that was a first...My neighbor just proposed marrying me off to her younger sister.  The most unbelievable part is that it took about four months for that to actually happen!