....And a Happy New Year!

It's been another couple of chill days at the beach, even with the new year approaching. Dahab is a small town on the Red Sea Coast, penned in by the Sinai mountains on one side and the Red Sea and Saudi Arabia on the other. It is incredibly beautiful. The water is a deep, fast moving blue, and the mountains change from a golden brown to rich red depending on the time of day. At night it gets cold and dark, and you can feel alone in the world. Tonight the moon has painted the earth sliver, and the stars are sharp and startling clear above the shadows of the mountains. The water has the color and weight of liquid mercury as it washes up on the beach. There is a bit of song stuck in my head, and I sing it as I walk down the boardwalk. "It's been a long December, and there's reason to believe that maybe this year will be better then the last. I can't remember all the times I tried to tell myself to hold on to theses moments as they pass." There is no ball dropping, no large groups of people, no fancy dinner, no countdown to 2007. Instead we spend the last day of 2006 at what can be best described as a local's chicken joint. For about two bucks each, we got soup, salad and a half of a perfectly roasted chicken. We sat around a campfire on the beach and passed around a bottle of vodka, ate milkshakes with spoons, and talked the New Year in. I didn't make any resolutions. I don't think that anybody did.

Merry Christmas

My only clue to the change of season is that fresh strawberries and Christmas trees have come to Zamalek. It is an odd combination, but then, this is Cairo and most things are odd to me. I find it hard to believe that it is Christmas already (this gets said every year, I know. But this year it seems especially true). There has not been a three month advertising blitz; I'm not hearing Christmas songs in all of the stores. There are no lights and questionable lawn ornamentation (this I miss) and I have done no Christmas shopping, and have no plans to do so. I know that it is Christmas only because the calendar says so. So it seems only natural to have the anti-Christmas rather then try to dupilcate what we do back home. A group of friends and I decided to head up to the Sinai, and spend a week on the Red Sea. If we couldn't have family, friends and home, we would have warm weather, blue water and palm trees. We ended up in a town called Dahab, and are staying at the Hilton.Our room has a hammock, there is a buffet (no bacon, alas) American TV shows and if I squint hard, I can almost pretend that I'm not in Egypt.

Christmas Eve was very low key. Lesley (who is also from Seattle) and I had bought a plastic tree in Cairo, and we set it up. Then Steve and Laura came over and we watched "Aladin" which proved to be highly entertaining especially in light of where we were. I spent Christmas day stretched out on the beach, with a book in one hand and a drink in the other. We brought the tree with us to the beach, and I went snorkeling mid-day. Much to my surprise, I did in fact see Santa. He came by on his camel and wished us a Merry Christmas. It was lovely, and a bit strange.

I hope that your Christmas was a nice as mine. Merry Christmas everyone!

Deputy Steve Cox, 1960-2006

There are times when I want to write about something but find that words have all dried up. This has been one of those weeks. I've sat in front of my computer for most of the day, most of this week, trying to find the right words and have been falling miserably. This will have to be one of those times when it is the thought that counts rather then content.

You never know when the door you walk through will be your last. On December 2th, 2006, King County Sheriff's Office Deputy Steve Cox walked through a door in White Center, and did not walk back out. I had the pleasure of knowing and working with Deputy Cox for several years. His death is a huge loss for the department and the community as a whole. He was a good man and very good cop. But that's an overused statement, and Steve was so much more then that. I cannot convey his passion for law enforcement, or his drive to make his community a better place. I cannot adequately tell you about his sense of fairness or his sense of humor. I can only tell you that today we are burying a good man and hope you understand that we have been robbed of more then just a person.

He left behind a wife and son; parents, family, and many friends.

Deputy Steve Cox is gone, but not forgotten.

My First Video!

cairo traffic

I took this video my first night in Cairo from the balcony of my hotel room. The hotel was in the middle of downtown Cairo, and it was around ten PM, yet traffic was still crazy. Let me know by leaving comments if you can view the video or not. If you can, I'll be posting more

Trip Pics, Part 1

The first picture is of the vast nothingness on the Cairo to Alex Hiway going up to Marsa Matruh. The second picture is of the El Alamein Commonwealth Cemetery. The next two pictures are in Siwa, and the last is looking out my hotel window in Marsa Matruh.

Sand, pancakes & gin, marshmallows and the Sea; A Twenty day recap

I apologize to everyone out there for my lack of blogs over the last month. In the past twenty days, I've trekked to the desert (twice), completed my midterms (ilhamdulillah!), and celebrated my birthday by going on sail on the Nile (and boy am I getting close to my 25th b-day, which is close to... well, old age and death). I've also been having some computer issues that have hampered blogging and emailing, but hopefully they will fixed in the next couple of days.

My first trek was to a town called Marsa Matruh which is on north coast of the Mediterranean, and to the Siwa Oasis, which isn't far from the border of Libya. It was a school sponsored trip, and a little over fifty of us went. We all piled onto a huge tour bus and settled in for the four hour ride up to the coast. It was the first time out of the city for me, and I was really excited.

Our first stop was a rest stop/gas station/mall/restaurant/petting zoo combo straight out of Middle America. It was a visual feast, full of Egyptian tourist kitsch, screaming small children, electric palm trees, stretching drivers, and my personal favorite, the aforementioned petting zoo. It consisted of two large Jersey cows, and a bunch of ducks. I did not pet either. However, I did enjoy the sight of several women in high heels wading through the field to for a photo-op with the cows. All parts of Egyptian life collided in the several acre facility, and it had the atmosphere of a county fair. I could have happily spent several days there, just watching everything. Alas we had other things to see, so we hit the road again.

Slowly, the nasty traffic and pollution gave way to scrub brush and sand. After about an hour we were out of the urban sprawl that surrounds greater Cairo and I could feel my lung capacity expand with every breath. Then there was nothing. And more nothing. All I could see for miles was a flat rocky plain. Finally, signs of human living starting appearing (I saw trash, lots of trash), and we started to head west instead of north. We crested a hill, and suddenly there was the deep cerulean blue sea. In that moment I came home; I could taste the sea salt, and could feel the pulse of the waves echo in my bones. My face was quite literally smashed against the window in hopes of getting a better view.

We were in the coastal town of El-Alamein, the site of one the largest tank battles in WWII. We stopped off at the Commonwealth Cemetery, where over four thousand Allied troops were buried. It was a sobering and moving experience for me, and really made me think about the lingering price of violence and war. Most of the men buried were in their early to mid twenties. Several men were the same age as I am. One man even shared a family name with me (S. Sgt. B.W Beck, age 39, Died 26 October 1942, from the Australian Imperial Force). Like most things, we weren't able to spend much time there, so I'm hoping to head back during one of my breaks.

From El Alamein, it was about a forty minute drive down the coast to Marsa Matruh. We got there just as the sun was setting and hit the water until the cold chased us off the beach. I was really tempted to just stay in Marsa Matruh rather then head to Siwa the next day, but my common sense finally overruled my emotions and it was back on the bus for the two hour ride to Siwa.

Siwa is part of a large oasis in the Western Desert, and has some truly amazing scenery. There are large salt lakes, camels, amazing rock formations, thousands of fresh water springs, Roman, Pharonic, & Greek ruins, and palm trees galore. Siwa also has a language and culture that is quite distinct from the rest of Egypt because of the strong Berber and Bedouin influences.

Siwa can only be described as "chill". Donkeys are the major form of transportation (as well as pollution, but I'll take that over Cairo's kind any day), and the people were relaxed and super friendly. Best of all, it was quiet. There were no car horns, no sirens, nothing to mar the sounds of a country night. We watched the sun set over one of the huge salt lakes, and slowly the stars came out. There were so many that I couldn't pick out individual constellations. It was quite a treat considering that I hadn't seen a star since I had left Seattle two months earlier.

The next day we toured around the area, and saw lots of mummies, temples, and even the Oracle where Alexander the Great was crowned King of Egypt. Because it was the end of Ramadan, all the local children where dressed in their Eid best. The girls had long brightly colored dresses covered with gold thread and embroidery, and even the boys had bright galabayyias. They were a cheerful and raucous bunch, just as curious about us as we were in them.

We stopped by a small Bedouin Village in the afternoon and wandered through the small cement huts and corral areas. As soon as we piled off the huge, air condidtioned super lux tour bus (feeling very conspicuous) the women and children came out with all sorts of handmade goods. I ended up buying a three meter long woven camel hair rug for the ridiculous price of 50 pounds (almost ten dollars). We also got to see some real camels (rather then scary tourist kind by the Pyramids), one of which was a rather frisky semi-wild baby camel. A bunch of wandered over for a closer look, which just made him all the more excited. Suddenly, and without warning, the baby camel started danceing and kicking, and I found out that my safe distance wasn't quite far enough away. He shuffled up to me, and kicked me. It didn't hurt, and was really nothing more then a glancing blow, but still, I had just been kicked by a camel. It made me laught pretty hard, and one of the group got the whole "attack" on video which I will post as soon as I can.

That evening, we went into the Great Sea of Sand for a dinner and Bedouin folkloric show. The desert was just like I had imagined, huge great white dunes that were constantly shifting in the light and wind. We got to the dunes just as the sun was sinking below the horizon, and climbed up several dunes to a plateau of sorts. We had dinner under the stars on large carpets, and afterwards sat around a huge campfire listening to music and generally relaxing. The only downer was that we had a campfire, but no marshmallows. I vowed that the next time I would come prepared.

I was greeted early Friday morning in Siwa with the athan, or call to prayer, coming from what sounded like hundreds of mosques. It was a little after 5:30, and the morning air was damp and heavy as the first mosque broke the dark silence. Slowly, mosque after mosque joined in until I could no more tell apart the calls then I could understand the words of the prayers. One by one the calls finished, until there was again a lone muezzin's voice coloring the gray dawn air. Finally he too finished, and I slowly drifted back to sleep.

We spent the morning wandering around the town proper, and around lunch hopped back on the bus for Marsa Matruh. I was impatient, and couldn't wait to see the beach again. I spent several hours swimming around and goofing off, and felt truly clean and loose in the way only a long swim can make you. That night I wandered down the beach and found a spot to just sit and think. There was an offshore storm, and the waves had a deep roar behind them. Perhaps it's part of being a Seattleite, or perhaps it's just a part of my character, but I'm most at home when I'm by the ocean. It is one of the few places that I can feel God, and the only place that makes me happy regardless of reality. I thought about my home, and I thought about my family. I came to term with the negative aspects of my life in Cairo, and banished the lingering homesickness that had been dogging me for several weeks. Finally I just sat, silent in voice and thought. I went to bed that night with the balcony doors wide open, the pounding roar of the waves my only music.

The morning dawned cloudy and cool, but myself and several other women spent the morning and part of the afternoon in the water again. I couldn't have stayed away to save my life. Finally we had to pack up and head back to Cairo, tans and spirits much improved.

Around eight o'clock, we stopped off at another rest stop/gas station/mall/restaurant/petting zoo combo. I'm not sure why people here are so compelled to have a petting zoo in the middle of nowhere, but whatever, maybe it's an Egyptian thing. This rest stop was done in a very tasteful Islamic manor-house style, and had an awesome candy shop that had all those little goodies that I still haven't found in Cairo, like Japanese jellies. In the complex there was also a music store that was blaring obnoxious middle eastern pop music. It suddenly changed into obnoxious eighties pop music upon our arrival, and a familiar tune drove us out of the candy store and into the plaza. It was incredibility surreal; I was standing in the Egyptian desert, at a rest stop/gas station/mall/restaurant/petting zoo combo listening to "Eye of the Tiger" with a bunch of other American students. A few brave souls broke out some dance moves, and we finally piled back on the bus full of sugar and laughter.

The following week I had midterms. There were three exams over the space of the week. I had two written tests (one went well, one not so much) and a spoken test (it also went well). Looking over my piles of notes and flash cards, I was amazed at how much ground we had covered in such a short time. I was also a bit freaked out, because at this point, I know enough arabic to know just how much I don't know, and how much more work I'm going to have to put in before I'm even close to being fluent.

My birthday fell in the middle of my exam week, so I postponed my party until the weekend. Still, my birthday wasn't a total wash. My classmates surprised me with a card and a cute little stuffed dog (I'm guessing that I talk about Buddy, my border collie, way too much) and I even got flowers and chocolates. One of my teachers taught the class the arabic equivalent of the happy birthday song, and then made them sing it for me. I found it highly entertaining, although a bit painful. My classmates turned what could have been a bummer day into one of my better birthdays, and I hope that I can reciprocate in return.

For my birthday shindig, a bunch of classmates and I grabbed some dinner, and then headed down Nile, where we rented a felucca and went for sail. It was my first opportunity to go out on the Nile, and I quickly decided that it would become a more regular occurrence. Once you get about twenty feet off shore, the sounds of the city fade away. From that distance, the city takes on a glow and flare that is hard to see when you are in the middle of the whole mess. We got to the docks a little after sunset, and sailed for a hour. One of my classmates invited us back to her flat for an after party, and provided us with great spring rolls and even greater booze. Ahh, the joys of alcohol. We ended up doing a lot of B.S.ing, but later in the evening had a surprisingly thoughtful discussion on social welfare and prison reform.

Alcohol played another important role in the following week. Several of my classmates went abroad during the Eid break, which meant that they went through the duty free at the airport and were able to pick up plenty of the good stuff. Being good college students, we took every and any opportunity to imbibe.

For one of my classes, we went to a flat close to school and made banana-cinnamon-chocolate pancakes. We were learning the command form of conjugation (ie, add this, do this, ect.) and so I got to tell the class what to do in order to make the pancakes (big shocker, me telling people what to do). Despite my role, it went surprising well, and the pancakes were rather tasty. Then the outing took a strange turn. I'm still not sure how it happened, but at some point the I found myself flipping pancakes over a hot broiler with a gin and tonic in hand. It was a rather strong gin and tonic, and it was barely past noon. By the time I got a cab home, I was more then a little tipsy, and it felt really, really good. Sometimes, you need to be a bit subversive to make it through life abroad. I sure was that day.

Fast forward a week, and I heard from one of my fellow students that there was going to be an overnight trip to the desert. At the last minute, I decided to go, and remembering the lessons I had previously learned, stocked up on marshmallows, got a pointy long handled fork (for roasting) and rum (for warming purposes only).

The trip was a desert safari to the White and Black Deserts, which are in the same general location as Siwa. Twelve of us students from ALI ended up going, and we packed into a minibus early last Friday morning. It was definitely a step down from the "super lux" tour bus that I had gotten used to for the school trips. It was all kidney jarring fun as we hurtled down the desert highway in what amounted to a tin can with no seat belts. Ahhh, Egypt.

After the painfully long four hour trip, we made it to the jumping off point. After a quick lunch, we exchanged the micro bus for three Land Cruisers and headed off road. We drove through the Black Desert, which gets it's name from the black basalt that covers the ground. Some seventy million years ago, the black desert was the bottom of the ocean, and had many magma vents which deposited the basalt. Nowadays, the magma vents form small mountains, and the landscape looks like a cross between the surface of Mars and a burnt snicker doodle (Thanks Nicola!). After about two hours, we crossed into the White Desert, which is a bit younger at forty million years, The White Desert gets it's name from the large limestone, salt and chalk towers that rise out it's sands. It's possible to find fossilized seashells (I even found some small shark teeth) and other marine animal fossils among the monoliths. Truly, it's comparable to the Grand Canyon in awe factor, and I'm going to try to make a longer trip at some point.

The sand proved to be a hedonistic pleasure, and I ended up going barefoot for most of the weekend. We set up camp right before sunset, and our guides had a perfect marshmallow roasting fire started in no time. I whipped them out, and started talking orders (rare, medium brown, or well done) much to the amusement of the guides (but they enjoyed the marshmallows along with everyone else). Dinner followed, and we spent the evening talking around the campfire (and yes, there was drinking involved). We were visited by a really cute desert fox; I got to know some really great people in the upper levels of ALI. There were even two other girls from Seattle in the group. It was a really good mix of people, and I was thankful that I had decided to go.

By the time bedtime rolled around, it had gotten rather chilly, and as I result I had on all of the clothes that I had brought. We curled up in sleeping bags under the stars and drifted off to the lovely sound of the wind and silence.

The next morning we broke camp and did a bit more walking and driving through the desert. I took plenty of pictures, and I'll be posting them in the next couple of days. My pictures will do a far better job of showing the desert then I can.

Finally we got back to the base camp, piled back on to yet another micro bus (this one a newer vintage, but still tin can-esk) and began the journey back to Cairo. It was just as painful as the first, but this time I was dusty and ready to get home which made the ride seem that much longer. As per normal, traffic was hideous from the burbs all the way into town, and we saw some serious characters in the cars around us.

So that's been the last month. I didn't mean this post to become quite so epically long, but I had quite a bit catching up to do. Thanks for sticking through it ;)

Being the American University in Cairo, we have Thanksgiving off this week. I'll be talking yet another trip, this time a Nile Cruise to Aswan, Luxor, The Valley of the Kings, and Abu Simbel. Hopefully I'll have a chance to post before I go, but if not, I hope that all of ya'll back home have a great Turkey day!

Happy Birthday to me!

If you've been reading this blog on a regular basis, you know that I had a touch of homesickness a couple of weeks ago. Thankfully I had a big break to get over all of that, and am now back to my normal (for me at least) self. That all being said, I still miss Seattle, and really miss the weather and change of seasons that Seattle is experiencing right now.
It may sound strange to say that I miss the rain, but I do. I miss the sounds of rain- the quiet tap on the window and roof, the hiss of water under tires. I miss the smell of damp earth and ozone, and I miss the feeling of being totally clean after rain. Imagine my surprise then when I woke up today and heard the rain on my window. Unlike other cruel mornings, this really was the tap rain of rain on the window and I was thrilled. For some people, rain on your birthday may seem like a bad thing, but to me, it was the perfect gift. It was rather funny to see the people of Cairo deal with the unexpected visitor. Streets were flooded (and believe me when I say that it didn't rain that much!) and there was scary black puddles to jump over everywhere. The picture above is of Midan Tahrir, which is the big square that my school is on. After the rain, the air was clean, and although it didn't last long, Cairo's buildings looked a bit brighter. So to all of you who wished a bit of Seattle my way, good job. If you can get some snow over here, I will be truly impressed!

And being my birthday, I can't forget to thank my Mom (and my Dad for his part) for going through 43 hours of labor and still taking me home. Bet you didn't know what you were gettting into huh? ;)

I'm not dead, just on vacation......

I just got back from a badly needed week-long vaction to the North Coast and the Siwa Oasis. I've got a rather large post going about the trip, but until then here are some pictures.

The first picture is of the shadows of the sun as it sank over the Sahara Desert, and the second is of a spring that we swam in outside of Siwa. The third picture is of some Bedouin men dancing around a campfire in the Sahara. The fourth picture is looking across Siwa from the Shali into the desert. The fifth is of me standing in the middle of the desert, the sixth is the beach town on the North Caost that we visited, and the last two pictures are of the Siwa Oasis.

What's my PMA again.......?

To honor my new PMA I'll share some more arabic mistakes from class.

"hammam" (bathroom) vs. "hamaam" (pigeon). I shudder to think how many times I've asked where the pigeon was rather then the bathroom. Thankfully, I've yet to be handed a pigeon. I have eaten it though, and it made me spend a lot of time in the hammam.

"ana ba'ara" (I am a cow) vs. "ana baqra" (I read). You normally drop the q in Egpytian arabic, so my teacher made sure to take the time to point this mistake out. But hey, now I can say "ana mish khwaga, ana amerikkiyya ba'ara" ( I am not a stupid foriegner, I am an American cow).

Loneliness

I got this in response to Wedensday's post. Thanks.... I think ;) 

I just signed away my life....

There's only one more week of Ramadan left, and that means that Eid (which is the iftar of all iftars, and one of the holiest days of the year) is coming up. For a non-Muslim, it means I get a week off school. I've chosen to take a university sponsored trip to the North Coast of Mediterranean (pictured above) and to the Siwa Oasis. Today I had to pay for the trip and sign a liability waver. Being a good and smart American, I made sure that I read the fine print. One line in particular caught my eye and made me laugh. It said, "...responsibility is not accepted for losses or expenses due to sickness, weather, strikes, hostilities, wars, terrorism, natural disasters, or other such causes." Talk about not being in Kansas anymore....

Sunny Day Blues

This morning I heard the sound of rain tapping on my window. In that moment between waking and dreaming, I forgot were I was. My bed was soft and warm, and I could smell my mom's blueberry muffins. Life was good.

Then real life intruded. Car horns jarred me into consciousness. The sound of rain was really my neighbor's AC dripping onto my window ledge. I was in Cairo, not Seattle, and I felt like I'd cut off a chunk of my soul.

I try not to think of home. I try not to think of my family, my friends, my dog. I know that I made the right choice to move here. However, if someone had offered me a plane ticket home this morning, I would have taken it.

By the time I got to school, I felt reasonably whole. Class went well, and I walked home along the Nile. But you should know that I dream of Seattle, of family dinners and days at the beach with friends. Know that I miss you. I will come home, but until then know that you come with me wherever I go. 

Arabic word of the week.... شبشب !!!!!

Occasionally I learn a new arabic word that is so mumtaz (excellent) that I must share it you. This week's word is shib-shib ( شبشب ) A shib-shib is a sandal with an open toe and back (like my Jesus sandals). I love this word because it's so fun to say... SHIB-SHIB!!

I've also made up a Sarabic dictionary (see below). I'll be updating it as I learn new words, and I've got a link to it on the right side of the page for ease of use.

One last administrative note- I've added some pictures to my webshots pages- pictures from the Pyramids at Saqqara, some from rural Giza and a new album called "Cairo from a Bus". They're not the best pictures, and often have glare from the windows, but they do show what the city looks like outside of the monuments and museums. You can find the pictures here http://community.webshots.com/user/1frmseattle , and there is also a permanent link on the right side of the page.

Sarabic 101- A Guide to my Colloquial Dialect

Sarabic 101- A Guide to my Colloquial Dialect

Since I am now officially a student of languages, I feel no shame about dropping in Arabic, Spanish or any bit random colloquial English into my writings. But to be fair to my readers, and because I don't want spend half of my time translating my verbosity, I've decided make a dictionary for ease of use. I will try to update it with any new words or phases as they pop up, and you are welcome to leave me a comment if you feel that something needs to be added. If the phase is in Arabic, I will do my best to transliterate for the best pronunciation.

Ahlan- hello

Ahlan wa sahlan- welcome

Ahwa- coffee, or coffee shop

ALI- Arabic Language Unit

Ana- I, my. "ana ismee sarah" = "my name is sarah"

As salaam alaykum- a formal way of greeting someone. It should be followed by "wa alaykum as salaam". Translated they mean "peace be upon you" and "upon you be peace".

AUC- the American University in Cairo

Aywa- yes, more formally na'am is used

ba'ara- cow

baqra- to read

Higab- headcovering.

Hamaam- Pigeon

Hammaam-Bathroom

Haram- Pyramid

Harem- Forbidden

Inshallah- if god wills it. Can also be used as polite maybe, as in "I'll meet you tomorrow, inshallah."

laa- no

Kushari- lentils, noodles and rice topped with a tomato onion sauce. Very, very tasty.

Ma'as salaama- goodbye, literally "with peace"

Marharbah- Hello

Masaa il khyer- good afternoon or evening. The proper response would be masaa il noor. Literally translated they mean "Evening of Goodness" and "Evening of Light".

Masr- Egypt, but can also mean the city of Cairo

Medina- city

PMA- Positive Mental Attitude

Sabah il khyer- good morning, and the proper response is "sabah il noor". Literally translated they mean "Morning of Goodness" and "Morning of Light".

Shukran- thanks. More formally use shukran gazeelan.

SOL- shit out of luck

Street Talk

One of my favorite things about living in Cairo is that I can walk just about anywhere I need to go. The more I walk around Cairo, the better I have an understanding of what the city is really like, and what the people are about. That being said, walking in Cairo is not for the faint of heart or weak kneed. For one thing, the sidewalks are not the clean & lovely pedestrian friendly kind that America is used to. The difference between the sidewalk and the street often makes you feel like you are on a stairmaster rather then a sidewalk. In addition to double and triple parking on the street, people park on the sidewalk which renders walking in a straight line impossible. Then there is what I refer to as the Cairo Shower. Everywhere you go, the air conditioners from above drip a constant flow onto the street, and you've got to be on the lookout or you'll get wet.

Walking in Cairo also requires a strong disregard for safety, personal or otherwise. It also helps to understand the pattern and cadence of horn blowing, to have your ear tuned to the difference between the "I'm passing you" honk and the "get the hell out of my way or I'll hit you!" honk. You must disregard any and all traffic laws, and most importantly, you must NEVER hesitate. To hesitate is to ask to get hit. One may stop in the middle of traffic, or run hell bent through it, but once the decision is made, you stick to it.

This may all sound like complaint, but the truth is I enjoy it. My walk to each morning wakes me up better then any cup of coffee. I get to meet all sorts of people, and get a good laugh most of the time. For example, I was walking home yesterday just as the primary schools were getting out and ran into a group of boys. They looked about eight or nine, and had on uniforms on that made them look positively angelic. But being little boys, they were up to no good and happened to be setting off small firecrackers in the street. They set one off right behind me, and rather then jumping and freaking out, I grinned and said "mumtaz!" (no shock if you know how much I like to blow things up). I asked if I could light one and got huge smiles all around. They proceeded to let me light off several, and showed off their rather impressive collection of small explosives. It was the highlight of my day, and one I would have missed it if I had taken a taxi.

I also get to hear some of the cheesiest lines know to womankind. I have been told that I am in the dreams and hearts of many men here; I get to hear things like this- "Hey pretty lady, you walk like an Egyptian!" Yeah, whatever... when I heard that, I thought of the picture above. That of course, made me laugh, and I almost got hit by a car as I crossed the street. I did however, keep walking like an Egyptian away. There's also been "Hello! You from America? Welcome to Alaska!" I've heard it several times, and there must be some kind of inside joke that I'm not getting.

But my all time favorite street conversation came the first week that I was here. As I was walking past an Ahwa (coffee shop) I heard "Hello, you American?" I half smile, because I pretty much had "Rich & Stupid American" tattooed to my forehead as far as the locals were concerned. The man continued, "Do you need a husband? I can be a good husband!" I'm sure that his idea and my idea of what construes a good husband was vastly different. The man was in his late sixties and had less teeth then my eighteen-year old sheltie did, but he seemed to be teasing me so I smiled at him and said, "Does that mean that you'll wear the skirt?" This made him laugh pretty hard, and he convinced me to sit and have coffee with him and his cronies. They taught a little backgammon and we had a lovely chat. When I left, he gave me his son's cell number so that I could call him and get a good Egyptian husband. No word about the skirt however.

So go for walk. Leave the cell phone and ipod at home, and become a tourist in your own town. You may be surprised at what you find out, or perhaps you'll want to move. Worse comes to worse, you can always move here! 

Ramadan Kareem!

This past week was the first week of Ramadan. Ramadan is considered the holiest month of the year by Muslims, and it celebrates the time in which the Qu 'ran was reveled to the Prophet Mohammad. Although it's compared to the Christian Christmas in importance and scope, it's focus is much more personal, and much less commercial. To me, it feels much more like Lent and Easter. During Ramadan, there is an increased importance placed on the of praying and reading of the Qu 'ran, and all able Muslims fast from sunrise to sunset.

Unlike Lent, it's not just the giving up of certain things; nothing is allowed to pass through the lips until the sun goes down. In practical terms, this means that Ramadan is month in which nothing gets done. Business open late and close early, if they even open up at all. People are justifiably cranky over the lack of coffee, cigarettes and food (in that order, I've learned), and several hours before the sun goes down, traffic becomes absolutely horrendous as everyone tries to get home. The city takes on a carnival flare; colored lights are strung from every available surface, and everyone hangs up Ramadan Lamps (see the picture above).

The one redeeming feature of Ramadan (at least from a non-Muslim standpoint) is iftar. Iftar literally means "to break fast" and is normally the morning meal. During Ramadan however, it means the meal right after the sun goes down. Unsurprisingly the meal is huge, and there's a abundance of sweets and desserts. Iftar is like Thanksgiving every night for a month- lots of food, laughter, friends and family. Looking through the windows of my flat each night I can see large gatherings of family crowed around tables heaping with food, and the city is positively dead as soon as Iftar starts. There are also Iftar tables in the street, were anyone who can't make it home in time can eat and for the poor to have a good meal. Typically, people eat a ton of food at Iftar, and then stay up until two or three in the morning, eat again, and then go to bed.

I decided to give the fasting a shot for the first week of Ramadan. Let me tell you, it sucks. But I love Iftar, and the amount of food you consume would seem absurd if you ate anything during the day. I got pretty whacked out the first day (we joked that we were several minutes away from seeing smurfs climb the walls by the time iftar rolled around), so I decided that I would still drink water during the day and it's now become tolerable. I also decided to wear a higaab the first three days of Ramadan out of respect, and a touch of curiosity. Oddly enough I felt that I gathered more attention wearing one then I did normally not wearing one. However, I got lots of complements about how nice I looked (my higaab was a lovely shade of green, chosen to match my eyes and because green is the color for peace) so maybe it had something to do with my stunning good looks rather then the oddity of a westerner in a higaab. I'm sure that I won't wear a higaab on a regular basis, but it's an easy way to show respect, and to feel girly.

Iftar has also introduced me to lots of really good middle eastern food that I might not have been able to try otherwise. I've had lots of different kind of meats- spicy grilled kebabs, tender fried chicken, pigeon (very tasty dark meat morsels of goodness), stuffed vegetables and grape leaves of all kinds, soups galore (my favorite was a tomato orzo soup flavored with garlic, lemon and mint) and every kind of bread imaginable. The number one ingredient of desserts seems to be honey, and it's put everything from wheat cakes to ice cream. It's quite a punch in the gut after not eating all day, and I've developed quite a fondness for it.

Ramadan can also a humbling experience. I stayed late at school one evening, and ended up walking home because I couldn't find a cab. Just as I got off the bridge, I was grabbed by an older women, and pushed down into a chair in front of a row of tables. A sea of foreign faces greeted me; I was the only westerner in a group of about a hundred. I was sitting a mawa’id Al-Rahman, or a public Iftar table. There were whole families sitting at the tables, taxi cab drivers, poor people, African refugees and me. We were all waiting for that magical moment when the sun slipped far enough down the horizon so we could eat. The tables were tense, and did not feel partially welcoming. We sat in silence, the Nile breeze playing with the tablecloths and napkins for what seemed like hours. Then suddenly iftar was upon us, and the call to prayer echoed from every part of the city inviting us to eat. In no time I had a heaping plate of food, and was alternately chowing down and answering questions as best as I could. Belts and tongues loosened with the addition of food, and my arabic mistakes seemed to relax the people around me. It was a beautiful sunset, and I was sitting on the banks of the Nile eating a wonderful meal. But I couldn't help but be aware of the differences between myself and the people around me. I had come ten thousand miles to be there; At my feet was my backpack with my laptop and ipod. Both were worth more then what many there would make in several months. Looking at the worn faces around me, I was uncomfortable, happy and grateful all at the same time. It certainly made some food for thought that night. 

I wrote this!

I knew going into this that arabic wasn't going to be easy. It was partly because of the challenge that I chose to major in it. I liked the idea of having to work hard at something; I didn't want to be able to slide through arabic like I have so many other school subjects. I certainly got what I wished for. Although Egyptian (spoken) Arabic hasn't been a breeze, I feel that like I am at least holding my own in the class. Modern Standard Arabic is another story- it's been kicking my nether regions since day one. I am finally at the point in which I can- albeit pathetically- read and write. Or at least that is what my teachers say. I suppose if you call the painful sounding out of syllables "reading" and the slapping together of letters "writing" then I am literate.

Tonight I had to write a small paragraph introducing myself for my Modern Standard class. It took me over an hour to write six simple sentences. It was frustrating as hell. First I wrote the sentences in transliterated Arabic (Arabic in the Latin script), and then I had to re-write them into real Arabic. But now that I'm done, I feel a sense of real accomplishment. I've never written so much Arabic before, and I can actually read the page with some ease. There are certainly mistakes in it, my handwriting is frankly terrible, and it's dry as dust, but the fact remains that I wrote it.

It says, "Ismee Sarah Leonard (My name is Sarah Leonard). Ana amrikiyya min madina Seattle (I am American, from the city of Seattle). Ana taaliba fee gamea al amrikayyia fil qahera (I am a student at the American University in Cairo). Ommree eisreen wa ithnayn sana wa mish mutazawwiga (I am 22 years old and not married). Ana mish akh aw ukht (I don't have a brother or a sister). Aby muhasib wa ummi sikirteera (My father is an accountant and my mother is a secretary). Ana bahibb korat il qadam il amrikiyya wa kora il qadam (I like American football and soccer). 

Language Misadventures

The past couple of days have been brutal- tests galore (my crazy weekend is coming back to bite me...) and everyday I have something to go to after class. Last night I went to a really good talk on mummification by Dr. Salima Ikram (she's on the History Channel quite a bit, and is one of the best in her field) that was great. The day before I did an art expression thing, and the day before that went to a photography show. All of this is rather distracting to the real reason I am here- to learn Arabic. But all distractions aside, I have managed to learn more then I thought possible. To honor what I have learned (and to postpone my homework a bit longer...) I will share some of my favorite words, sentences, and mistakes.

Mumtaz- excellent! I use this word more then any other, much to my chagrin.

Inshallah- My second favorite word. It means "if god wills it" and is used like "I will be in class on time, inshallah" or "I will see you tomorrow, inshallah". It's a great way to say yes when you really want to say no.

Ana mish khawaga!- "I am not a stupid foreigner!" This one came in handy at the pyramids, or when men decide to be pigs and make stupid comments.

Getting to school is also quite an adventure. Most of us have to take a taxi, and this can lead to some rather funny misadventures. For example-

Egyptians call the pyramids "haram". One of my classmates got in a taxi and asked the driver to take her to the "harem" which means forbidden. She thought she was going to the pyramids, he thought he was getting some- it took awhile to sort that one out, let me tell you....

Another female student thought that she was saying "stop here" (bass hina) but mistakenly was saying "buss hina" which means "kiss me here". This driver was kind enough to explain it to her rather then go for it.

I've had some serious issues getting to school. First, I was saying "midan tahrir" (the square my school is on) all wrong, and then I started saying the name of the school wrong. You can't just say "American University" you have to say "Gaa'ma Amerikiyya". I kept saying "Ga'mi Amerikiyya" which means "American Mosque". I ended up in the strangest places, none of which were school. On the plus side, I have seen a lot of mosques.

Sheesha and Giza

This has been a magnuun (crazy) week. I had my first full week of school, and then did way too much over the weekend. The weekend started Thursday night (which is my Friday) when my favorite Arabic teacher Abeer invited us to a movie and dinner after school. Abeer told us that we were going to do as the Egyptians do, and go to a midnight movie. In Cairo, it's perfectly normal to meet someone this late- the city doesn't start waking up until the sun goes down. We met in front of the school gates at midnight, and then piled into several cabs for the short ride to the theater. The group was fairly mixed; Abeer and her husband Amr were there, along with their three kids and a friend. Most of the class was also there, and so the nations of England, Norway, Canada, Japan and America were all represented. The movie was called "Zaza" and was completely in Arabic. I didn't understand much, but it was interesting to see the differences in American crowds vs Egyptian ones. Despite the time, there were several babies in the audience. There were far more teenage boys there then anyone else, and the only women there were clearly with families. It was also much louder then an American theater- phones rang, people talked, babies cried- and this was clearly normal.

After the movie got out we went to a part of Cairo that is well known for it's outdoor restaurants, and had a very late dinner at three AM. I had fuul and tamminyya, which is fava beans and falafel. It was the perfect late night food- salty, warm and filling. We ordered tea and juice, and a little later ordered sheesha pipes. Soon the warm food smells of the street mixed with the scent of apple tobacco, and we spent several hours chatting and joking around. The sun was just starting to come up over the Nile by the time I got back to my flat, and I could hear the first of the mosques issuing the morning call to prayer. I slept in until 11, and then spent the rest of the day studying.

The next day was the long awaited trip to the Giza plateau to see the pyramids. It took about a half an hour by bus to get there from downtown. The city of Giza comes right up to the base of the pyramids; it was like having a Macdonald's on the top of Mt. Rushmore. Despite the commercialism, I still got goose bumps. The constantly shifting light made it impossible for me to put my camera down, and I hope my pictures can do them justice. About an hour into the tour, we got to go into Chepren's pyramid. It was a highly claustrophobic and humid hike through several tunnels to the burial chamber, and as soon as I got there, I wanted out. The chamber was bare and empty except some graffiti left by french explorers, and all I could think was that I was under a hell of a lot of rock. I wasn't the only one having freaked out thoughts, and we quickly made our way back through the base to the welcome sunshine. We wondered around for awhile, and then made our way down to the Sphinx. The imposing grandeur of the pyramids makes the Sphinx seem friendly and welcoming, and I wish that we could have spent more time wandering around. There are traces of red paint still left on the face, and the temple at it's feet has the remains of an alabaster floor that must have been stunning when new.

We finally headed back to the city, and a group of us decided to have lunch at a Chinese restaurant about ten minutes from my flat. The food was excellent, and we sat in a cafe for about an hour afterward goofing off. Finally the shout of homework could not be ignored, and I spent the rest of the evening in. I was more tired on Sunday then I had been on Thursday, and I'm sure most weekends will be this crazy. 

Five years later

Five years ago, the world changed for a lot of people.

No man is ordinary. No loss of life should be treated as such. It is not our complexity, our level of consciousness, or our conquests that make us special. Simply by being, we are unique. We are reminded of this when tragedy occurs, but it should be something that we reflect on everyday. One cannot simply dismiss death as a by-product; the ends certainly do not justify the means. You cannot replace a human soul, or negate human suffering.

What is the worth of a life?

This is my life, part two

Here are a couple more shots of my room. My room is wonderfully big, and has a small alcove with a window that I'm using as an office. The third and fourth pictures are of my building. In the third picture, my bedroom window is the one right below the pink balcony. In last picture, the entryway into the building is the first set of glass doors. There is a small mosque next to the doors to my building.

 

This is my life....

This is the main street outside of my apartment in Zamalek. As you can see, there isn't much traffic (really, for Cairo this tame!) and there are lots of trees. The second picture is of my friend Christal showing off my living room. The door on the left is Hebah's room, and the door on the right is mine. The third picture is another shot of the living room looking into the hall that leads into the bathroom and kitchen. The last shot is off my bedroom (Laura, notice the placement of the flamingo!)

 

I live on an island on the Nile!

The last week and half has been at times scary, amazing, hot, overwhelming, exciting, and last but not least frustrating. If you know about the all of the drama involved in getting me to this county, then you will understand when I say that everything was by no means all taken care of by the time I got here. I've spent the last couple of days trying to get finical aid stuff sorted out (STILL!!!! and half the school has the same problem!), trying to register for classes, and finally finding a flat. I was unable to get the first two sorted out, and because of that, could not even bring myself to start a flat-hunt. Over the last three days my stress level has increased to my pre-Cairo highs, which has rendered me unable to sleep more then a couple of hours a night and capable of a whole lot of nothing.

Sunday I was finally able to get my butt in gear, and started calling around to find a room to rent. I must have called ten places with no luck and I was getting a little discouraged. So I did what all good Seattleites do when stuck with a problem that can't be solved- I hopped on the Internet. In this case, I decided to check craigslist, and there waiting for me was a new post from person who was looking for a roommate in Zamalek. Zamalek is one of the most expensive, nicest, greenest, most western areas of Cairo. It also happens to be an island in the middle of the Nile, which made it impossibly cool in my eyes.

The post simply said that there was female grad student looking for a roommate with a two bedroom flat in Zamalek, and that she had a cat. The rent was 2400 pounds (about $418 a month) split between two people. I immediately emailed her back saying that I was interested, and hoped for the best. For once luck was on my side, and she called me later that night. We made a date for me to meet her and see the place for the following day.

After I got done with some school stuff, Christal and I got in a cab a headed across the Nile. The taxi driver didn't know the street that the flat was on, and had to stop several times to get directions, all which seemed to lead us in different directions. It gave me a chance to see Zamalek, and boy did I like what I saw. There was a Thai restaurant (this sold me the place without even looking at it), lots of little shops, a grocery store, and best of all, lots and lots of trees. Finally we found the place and I got to meet Hebah, the women from the ad.

Hebah is from California, and is Egyptian-American. She's doing her grad work at AUC, and seems to be really nice. She also has an eight month old kitten named Luna, and the idea of living with a kitty was wonderful. The apartment was small but really nice. There was a living room with satellite TV, and brand new bathroom & kitchen and two bedrooms. The second room was huge, and had a little alcove with a window & desk that would make a perfect little office. It also had a great big bed, and a tall cabinet to store all of my clothes. I immediately said yes to the apartment, and Christal and I went back to downtown Cairo to get my things.

We lugged my two humongous and heavy bags out of the hostel and on to the street. It took about ten minutes to get a taxi, but we finally were able to head back over the Nile. When we got to the apartment, the lift (which is on the shady side) wasn't working so we had to haul my bags up to the forth floor (thank you Christal!!!). Finally I was home, and I promptly started to unpack.

Later that night we went for dinner at a restaurant on the banks of the Nile, and was by far the best meal I've had while I've been here (for those who are interested, it was a chicken and vegetable mixture with a great sauce over rice). It was also the most expensive meal I've had at nine dollars including the tip (I love Cairo!). I got to see the sun set over the Nile, and my stress level went down with the sun.

As soon as I get unpacked, I'll take a ton of pictures and post them to the blog. In the mean time, I hope that all of you back home are doing well, and enjoying Seattle for me!

Is there a doctor in the house?

I woke up this morning with a peculiar taste in my mouth. More specifically, my mouth tasted like the inside of the wet vac that we use to suck up dog hair and other nastiness at Petsmart. It wasn't a good way to wake up, let me assure you. I stumbled over to the bathroom sink, grabbed my toothbrush and started scrubbing. Five minutes later, my mouth tasted like the inside of the wet vac and extreme herbal mint Crest. So I turned on the light, and stuck my tongue out. Much to horror my tongue was no longer pink and non-threatening, but covered in a thin black carpet of grossness. I started scrubbing my tongue in earnest, and about twenty seconds later, found that my toothbrush was now also back. It took about ten minutes, a half bottle of toothpaste and much gagging to get my tongue to a semi-normal color and taste. I am left wondering what exactly festered and possibly died on my tongue overnight, and if any of you at home have an answer, please let me know.

Other then the scary tongue and some serious blisters, I have been amazingly healthy. I have been able to eat all manner of street food with no problems; I credit it all to the daily shot of pepto bismal I've been downing (thanks for that tip Johnny!) and my morning glass of mango juice. I'm still chugging bottled water by the liter, but I figure I will slowly start drinking the local water once I have my own place (and therefore my own bathroom). With any luck, my cast iron stomach will hold up, and I will escape King Tut's curse, inshallah.

Home Sweet Home

I've taken these pictures in the last couple of days all around Cairo, and I hope that they show the beauty that I found. The city isn't as green as Seattle, but once you get out of Downtown, it's very nice.

Apartments by the Nile with the hills in the background 

Downtown Cairo from the Nile