friday noon anecdote

I realized it as soon as I stepped foot out of my apartment on the way to pick up some ta'mayya sandwiches. The prayer was going off and it was noon on friday.  Although prayers go off five times a day, the Friday prayer at noon, the Ju'muah is obligatory for all men to perform. It had slipped my mind, that absolutely everything is closed during this time. As an outsider, it is incredible to witness the sense of community that comes about from this; every male leaves his apartment, and prays together in the mosque, or in the street. Blocks upon blocks are filled with lines of people listening to the sermon. As a whole, the aSalaam alaykum's (peace be with you) have a wonderful purpose, and the prayer is an excellent bind to keep oneself on the right track. 

Sports Day

Today was Sports Day at the school and I have a sunburnt face. In all, it was a wonderful break from the classroom. Especially because my students have become completely unmanageable when they do not feel like being taught (most of the time), so this was a good chance to enjoy some good competitions with them. It was a bit like being a counselor back in camp, but then add the "Mr. that's not fair" attitude, which happened in about half of the games, and most definitely stems from a student's/this age group's constant need to push against authority. Nevertheless, the tears (after winning a relay and being told by the judge that we came in 2nd), the injuries (one boy badly sprained his wrist after the long jump), and the enthusiasm for having fun outdoors were all there, with the chance to view teachers as something other than menacing sources of supremacy. For the school, image is particularly important, hence why we missed almost 4 periods of class two days before just to "rehearse" for sports day, the location of the event in a lush club, practice time and stress on the cheers and "sports day song" (a version of "we are the champions") and a slew of emails and emphasis on sports day procedure. I guess it makes sense, this is the school's one big day with all of the grades. 

Each grade, 1 through 6, is divided into four houses, Red Indians, Blue Vikings, Green Pharoahs, and Yellow Aztecs. For primary six, we competed in a relay race, a balance race, an obstacle course, the long jump, soccer, baseball, a zig-zag race, and a sprint. I was the leader for the blue vikings. 

Mohamed, the last photo evidence of him in good condition before he landed on his wrist.. 

A surprise of everyone doing the warm-up exercise/also a sweet dance move (we do this every day for the morning lines, and I am usually the only one doing it for primary six, but in front of the parents the kids feel the need to perform..)

Teacher picture

Outside the club. If it weren't for technology it would be a harsh desert. This is exemplary of a trend of Cairo life, if you can afford to move out, you do. Up rise developments beyond developments, shopping malls, sports clubs (like this one), and the exclusion of Baladi (popular culture) life. 

Soon, more fun out of the classroom things are coming up. I will be going on a 4 night 5 day field trip to an ecolodge in the Sinai Peninsula with my class. I am excited/dreading it. 

My turf

It's always nice to have visitors, obviously for their company, but also because it throws a healthy splash of perspective on a city that one can view as their own. Drew flew in last week on Wednesday morning around quarter to three in the morning, and after picking him up and navigating my way from each of the three terminals. Two more hours of sleep, then off to school for me, and I sent him off with Hany to see the Egyptian museum, and then met up after school. Grabbed a quick beer at Horreya (my favorite cheap british expat bar), then headed off to the Islamic part of Cairo: Al-Azhar Mosque, al Azhar park, and a shisha in Khan Khalili (the place where there was the bombing - there is now a metal detector to go through to enter the area), and then went to this really cool sufi dancing concert. Great lively drumming and whirling dervishes. 

The next day, Drew came to school. It was hilarious. The children were all excited to see another American like myself, and they all called him Mr. Andrew. They were actually behaved for once. It was nice, and maybe they learned something.. 

The next day, we took off to the pyramids, rolling out of bed around 2 from a solid night before. Characteristic of Egyptian rules - or those that are in place to be broken such as "leave your camera at the door when you go inside pyramid," I brought my camera in the pyramid which lead to this epic shot.. 

Inside the coffin of the second pyramid.
The night then went on to see the dirtiest funk band probably to ever grace the Middle East, and definitely the best live music that I have seen yet in Cairo, at the Cairo Jazz club. 

The last day we checked out the 1973 war panorama. An enjoyable visit to a museum that was created by the North Koreans to show Egypt's might over Israel when they stormed across the Suez canal and decimated Israel. I love objective history.

Dahab

It was a pretty last minute decision really. I had enrolled in a six day night course, "the Art of Living" from the first to the sixth of March, which ended on a Friday night. The course itself was an out there hippy course centered around breathing, self-awareness, and meditation, and from it I gained much more relaxation, clarity of mind, and a much better appreciation for the "now" of things. So when Ceci told me she was going to Dahab until Monday, leaving Friday (an hour after the end of my course), I hopped on East Delta bus with her and her cousin and met up with three others. Thank you Prophet Mohamed for having a birthday going by the lunar schedule the surprises us with a four (rather than 3) day weekend. 

In the end, I only slept in Dahab one night, and stayed for two full days, (I left early with some others in our group, saving climbing Mount Sinai for another time) but I can full-heartedly say that Dahab is a place that I will absolutely come back to. The snorkeling yesterday at the blue hole was the coolest thing I have ever seen in the water, and scratching the tip of the iceberg of how much there is to see in these incredible reefs; 20 different types of colorful fish, the nooks and crannies of the reef, with fish darting around the holes, the precipice into the clear clear blue sea... 

I wrote a lot, here are some of my entries

"Dahab. The wind blowing from Saudi Arabia. Fog on the horizon. Yesterday we landed at 8 from a midnight bus ride. An immediate escape, backed by mountains, warm, strikingly clear waters. We biked South to a point, snorkeled at the blue lagoon. The teal blue rock with small bushes for darting striped fish, some sleeping by facing the strong current. A night of drunk promenades, snagged some ice cream on the way back after winning both games in pool (a surprise) before a pizza to end it. It's a place I know I will come back to. The chill vibes, the good people. A life of relaxation. For 30 pounds there is transport up to the blue hole, along with snorkeling gear. But I have to finish my coconut milkshake first." 

(The first thing I wrote)

"Written with a pen from Commerce bank

Kittens on my food, escape the Cairo stank

Saudi Arabia starin back at me

building broken glass from the Dahab Red Sea

Sinai in the future, moses in the past

Desert mountains part the sea, the present that will last

Whatever will? Let it be.

It's the music and the muses that will set us free.

Religion to confuse it,

Extremes to abuse it,

However you choose it,

There's always a way to lose it.

Positively, there's the heavy trodden path.

Good people and the life who are never looking back.

(at this point a dude who booked tours at our hotel came over, which prompted this..)

Ya momo, ente raggal kwayyis

Bil A3ribee, ente sau3bee mish rayyis.

Zahma kiteer fi'l Qahirah

Lakin fee Dahab, mafish mishkila

(hey Mohamed, you are a good man

in Arabic, you're my friend not the waiter

There's a lot of traffic in Cairo,

but in Dahab, there is no problem!)

Saudi Arabia on the Horizon

Taken from hotel Jasmine, the mountains behind us.

The wide spectrum

I was musing over sort of wide spectrum of social classes I have experienced in Cairo at the house of a high up official in the European Commission last night during a goodbye party for one of my friends who is an intern there. In a room in one of the gated villas in Maadi (a lush suburb of Cairo), filled with diplomats, European officials, butlers, interns and students, it was a casual gathering for dinner and drinks. It was speckled with conversations in English, French and Italian; the increasing rage of women in the arab world, what furniture to buy for a plush new apartment with a view over the Gezira club, a book I'm reading, Taxi, a collection of short stories heard in the Cairene taxi, (I've met the author, the host of the party piped in) which provided a once-removed discussion of the unruly Egyptian street. Just as much in my comfort zone is the conversation with the old man on the 5 cent tram ride, crammed with begging children, men selling items from candy to crazy glue, women in niqabs, situated in the squalor of mannerless Egyptians. It would be hypocritical to say that I have experienced true poverty, or even come close to it, though it is soon on my checklist to go through the city of the dead. Nevertheless the acceptance of every day Egyptians for foreigners is overwhelmingly high and welcoming. The 'ahwa (coffee shop) where David and I go frequently to enjoy shisha and a game of backgammon or domino is filled with men interested in talking to us, and in an endearing way we have become "their foreigners." Last time we went, for two shishas and two teas, Abdu wouldn't let us pay more than five pounds (almost a dollar). We'll go to crowded malls to play pool (where some of our Egyptian friends might refuse to join us because of the mall's reputation), eat at the sha3bee (folk) places for the fuul and ta'maya (Egyptian popular dish), and ride public busses to get downtown. Then again, this is the type of lifestyle that we both enjoy, and embrace for being able to get a taste of down to earth life so easily. Of course, there are still the classy malls with 7$ movies, fancy restaurants with 30$ meals (if you splurge), and horseback riding by the pyramids for 6$ an hour. Within all of this, as a foreigner in Egypt, I see a mixture between having no class boundaries and the "third culture kid" syndrome; or in other words, one can transcend classes and build relationships much more easily and truly be able to get away with it because of no core sense of belonging in this culture. 

A blast in Khan Khalili

First of all, my condolences to the family of the French teenager who died from the bombing in Cairo and all those injured. But here I sit, stalling in tomorrow's lesson plan to get something off my chest: May there be a special level in hell for the mindless terrorists. What does this accomplish? Making tourists think twice before they hit "book" on the flight to Cairo? Reducing Cairo itineraries to three days instead of four out of fear from going to one being blown to bits in one of the most fun markets to haggle for cheap goods? Leaking dollars away that are depended on for the biggest source of foreign money in Egypt, which directly keep a class of people from plummeting into poverty? Political analysts will be quick to assert that terrorism in Egypt is not uncommon,  and tourists are the frequent target from those who are upset with the government, yet these bombings are part of small groups who are unorganized in their demands. And for what? The government will crack down harder in this "emergency state," the tourist money will decrease, and the life for many in some form or another will get worse. No one cheers at this unbridled and inexplicable hate wrongfully taken out on the innocent. And worse off, nothing will be done to address the root of the grievances. Higher walls will be built, greater mistrust will ensue; from the outsiders towards Egyptians, from the Egyptians to their government which cannot provide safety, and from the people here, who will pay the price of someone else's Finally to all those who can look at an event like this and say how it fits in with the dogma "not all Muslims are terrorists, but all terrorists are Muslims," whoever did this, in fact betrayed their religion, and the ignorance and poverty in which they live is a horrible thing.



Inside al-Azhar mosque, the Mosque across the street from the bombing. A true place of peace...

 

Morocco

Ahh Morocco, le Maroc, Maghreb. It's been a week now since I've been back, so once again a blog entry is overdue.

The formula was perfect; meeting up with Michaela in Paris for two nights (enjoying good food, caught up with Mathias and Marius my norwegian friends from Cairo, six o clock mass in Notre Dame, Montmarte, la vie en rose...) before the ten day trip, with a round trip ticket on the same plane to Casablanca, and a car rental for the whole time. The total of driving was almost 2,000 kilometers, which combined with the best company, breathtaking views, fun roads, friendly animals on the side of the road, some solid Moroccan hiphop and groove music, and giving the occasional lift to a Moroccan, was more than tolerable. The travel log looked like this; landed in Casablanca, drove that night to Rabat, drove to Tangiers, drove to Chefchauen, drove to Fes (2 nights), drove to Marrakesch, drove to Essauoira (2 nights), drove back to Casablanca.

It is hard to put into words how incredible of a country it is. We drove past vast expanses of green, through rocky mountains, along the Mediterranean and Atlantic Coast, and even through snow! It's funny how we saw more of Morocco that the majority of Moroccans will see in their lifetime, but still barely scratched the surface of what Morocco is truly like. Maybe we found a taste of it when in a CD store at one point when the inquiry about hiphop music opened up a floodgate of information and pride about the fusion of traditional Berber culture (the tribe living in Morocco before the arrival of Islam), mixed with the hiphop in French, Arabic, and Berber. On the other side of it, we met Moroccans who jokingly would say "you shouldn't trust him, he's a Berber." Many of the men wear Jallibayas, which from American eyes look strikingly similar to KKK robes; long, with a point hood, except these ones come in all sorts of colors, from brown, grey, black, dark green, to the less common striped and crimson colors. Coming from Egypt, the people there are far less obtrusive and pushy to try to get you to buy things, and in every city there still exists the old quarters "Medinas" with windy streets wafting with all sorts of smells, donkeys, cats, and every item (touristy or vital to daily life) is available for a certain price. Although it isn't directly fueled by tourism, and we were surprisingly some of the few tourists in most of the areas we went, it's clear that the trickle down effect keeps things going. My favorite people to support were the little boys who would lead you through the impossibly navigable Medinas to the hotel or a touristic spot, extra tip if they carry along an umbrella or a ball to play soccer with. Of course, it was equally fun just wandering around and getting lost on our own, finding back alleys filled with beautiful jewelry or rugs, and at one point in Tangiers we stumbled upon the tomb of Ibn Batutta a famous Arab traveller of the 14th century and one of the founding fathers of Shisha. 

Although I thought that pretty much everyone spoke French, in the North it was more rare, and you need Spanish to get by, but it was a blast holding conversations in four languages; zigzagging my American footprint as much as possible.. Compared to Egypt where there is a cafe serving it on every street, finding Shisha was much more rare, and in fact it was made illegal, though we did find a sha3bee (folk/non touristy) place in Essauoira. I'm pretty sure I saw one of the waiters pay off the police as they drove by too. Hashish on the other hand is omnipresent, and these are the worst hustlers because if you respond to them they wont be able to comprehend why you actually aren't interested in buying anything from them. All that really worked in the end was saying that I had plenty and that usually kept the dealers at bey. The roads were actually very well kept, the routes were easy to follow, many lined with trees on each side or mileage markers, and the traffic laws were actually obeyed, almost annoyingly so, as most cars on the highway went under the speed limit. On the last day I got a speeding ticket for doing 74 km in a 60. In my defense there was no marking, and I had just come off driving up the Atlantic coast where it was 100 km, and was pulling it tight to return the car on time, but 400 Dhirams (50$) later and there were no worries... oops maybe that explains why everyone was going so slow. 

A couple more highlights:

Driving up from Rabat, we decided to get a peek at the Atlantic. There was a potholey paved road that took us to the Atlantic, but nothing more than a muddy road with lots of holes in it that took us North along the coast. Either way, off-roading was in the cards so we headed up a little bit with the attitude of not driving over the same route twice. There was an old fortress on a bluff over the Atlantic that looked like a mosque, with a gardien sitting out at the front of it and another parked car. We pushed open the door and in the windy drizzle found a circus school! 

Below is a street in Chefchaouen, a beautiful mountain town painted in light blue to keep away the flies.

Below is the courtyard of our Riad in Fes. As it was low season we could actually afford it... and living like kings for two days in this place was perfect to escape the windy rainy weather and bustling streets to relax. It also had one of the highest points in the Medina, and during prayer time I could hear the clear dissonance of prayers unobstructed from the noise below. They actually travelled from East to West in their starting times, and I was able to count about 12 mosques within a 1 km radius.

Fes was also cool because at night in the large square within the gates of the Medina there were several steps that were wide enough to hold a soccer match and basically on each step from the glow of the gates there was one going on. 

The drive from Fes to Marrakesch was also pretty epic. We started with trying to drive over the Middle Atlas mountains, and should have listened to a lady to whom we gave a ride (because we had asked her for directions and the route we wanted was on the way to her home...), but we made it all the way up to Ifrane, which is a mountain town where the King's palace is located, and then had to turn around because the snow had blocked the path. It felt like driving through Canada. So basically it turned the already long drive into a 9 hour day on the road and bombing back through the coast. 

Being in Essaouira was cool too. A sea town fortress with a hippy vibe and some amazing fish. Slow breaking waves a little bit North for some righteous surfing. 

In the end, I know I'm going to come back to Morocco one day inshallah.