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Venturing to the second-largest city in Egypt seemed like a logical thing to do at one point or another. Who from New York doesn’t want to see what LA or Chicago is like? So, five AUC students residing in a city of sixteen million decided this past weekend to travel to Alexandria, a city of 4 or 5 million, hugging the northern coast of Egypt on the Mediterranean Sea.
All week we contemplated purchasing advanced train tickets but we never quite got around to it… so Thursday AM, after a quick Metro ride to Ramses Train Station, we learned that not only the 12:00 and 13:10 trains were sold out, but the slightly more expensive – if you can call $8 one way expensive – French Bullet train at 14:00 was also sold out. The next train to leave was at 15:00 (3pm) so we reluctantly agreed to that (it was 10:30 in the morning), which also required us to sit second class. After walking around the neighborhood, grabbing a dirt cheap shwarma (3.50 LE, or about 65 cents), and sitting for a few hours in a coffee shop, we finally boarded Wagon Number 12 bound for El-Iskandreea (Alexandria, be’el Arabia). For second class (and paying less than 5 bucks one way), the Egyptian train was actually rather nice. I had a bigger seat, it reclined more, and I had about twice as much legroom as I did on my 8-hour Alitalia flight from the States, combined with the fact that I brought my pillow (I rarely leave Cairo without it) and the ride was a little over two hours, it was a nice way to travel. It was no TGV (the super-fast bullet trains in France), with its luxurious cabins and comfy chairs and tables, but it also didn’t come with the 80+ Euro price tag that some of those trains come with. Anyways…
So we left Cairo at 3pm, arriving in Alexandria a little after five. Meanwhile, the sun was setting and Iftar (the meal after sundown during Ramadan) was commencing upon our arrival. We immediately walked to the Corniche (walk along the Mediterranean) to catch a few quick pictures before finding accommodations. This is the second voyage here that we have gone without reservations, finding a very cute hotel called Hotel Crillon within walking distance of much of Alexandria. Squeezing five into a room wasn’t bad (Meghan in her sleeping bag, Carrie in her own bed, and the three guys, Dudestrong of course, pushed the other two beds together and slept horizontally across the beds for extra comfort). The hotel was very homey; very personal touches were added throughout making it feel like a B&B, with nice molding features and ultra-high ceilings. Oh and I forgot the best part (minus the orange cockroaches – we only saw one)… THE VIEW. We were directly across the street from the Mediterranean and had two French doors that opened overlooking the beautiful sea. 
So after checking into our hotel and setting in, it was time for dinner. With its close proximity to the Mediterranean (read: on the Mediterranean), clearly we needed to get seafood for dinner. After a bit of wondering, we stumbled upon the Fish Market on the Western Cove, I do believe. As we sat down, they brought several small side salad dishes for us to enjoy as appetizers (the best was clearly a garlic yogurt dip, with the close second: hummus, and a third: a mystery red dip). We then proceeded to walk up to the fish counter and select whichever fish we wanted. Carrie and I split a Silver Bream which was great grilled; yet again, our dinner was enjoyed along the water. After dinner, we bought sweets and pastries from a patisserie located within the same restaurant complex. And to conclude our evening, we sat in a cafe across the street from the Med, smoking shisha, and drinking tea and Turkish coffee, an all too typical, but still enjoyable ending to the day.
The one major issue involving getting a waterfront hotel with a balcony (sans a fan or air conditioning) is the noise. We had our French doors open for the Mediterranean breeze, which was helpful, but since the busy Corniche was right below us, the sounds of cars honking and the hoofs of the horse-drawn carriages never quite seemed to dissipate. I got quite a bit of sleep, despite my friends saying they didn’t. And the highlight of our night: prior to going to sleep, we saw one of our good friends, the orange cockroach. They’re a rather harmless little being (except when they are scrambling at you); we only saw one in the bathroom and none (hopefully) crawled across Meghan as she slept in her sleeping bag. (See a photo in album).
We awoke early to ensure maximum time to explore Alexandria. Since it is Ramadan, most touristy places close early. We first went to the Bibliotheca Alexandrina, which is the new Library of Alexandria. In the time of antiquity, the Royal Library of Alexandria was the largest library in the world and eventually the collection was lost, so they built a new, sleek, modern looking building to house a new collection, complete with ancient manuscripts and artifacts from centuries ago. 
Inside, we explored a few galleries and checked out the collection, but we only had two hours, since the library was only open from 10am until noon. Following a quick trip the Library, we went to the Catacombs of Kom El-Shuqafa, a burial city where the influences of the Greeks & Romans also blend with the Ancient Egyptians, but since they didn’t allow cameras in, were were unable to take photos of the beauty. Two primary levels of catacombs were located under Alexandria (the lowest one had flooded) and so we explored the underground burial site. After that, we walked to a ruins site of Pompey’s Pillar, located southwest of downtown. Here, certain aspects of many different cultures are evident with the Greek column, Roman baths, and Egyptian sphinxes.
Breezing through this site, we walked to the Roman Amphitheatre located near the train station, but the maps in our books were rather deceiving, so we took a cab the quite-short distance it was to the Roman Theatre. We performed a little, sang a little, played a little, learned a little, and got to experience the point in the amphitheatre where the speaker stands and the complexity of the architecture allows for the voice to echo and reflect back (kinda creepy the first time you do it). It reminds me of the place in the rotunda where you can whisper and hear someone else across the room whisper too. We decided upon an early dinner at a Greek restaurant, with yet another view of the Mediterranean from across the Corniche. After splurging – $11 divided by 5 people – on a bottle of white wine, we sat and relaxed and took the moment in. What a very long day of doing all the tourist things in Alexandria. We ended up taking an 8:00pm train back to Cairo where we sat first class (very very very chilly); I actually preferred second class and arrived home a little before 11:00pm. We came back and crashed and promised to return to Alexandria to see the library more in-depth and take the street-tram around the city… when it isn’t Ramadan and everything closes so early!
I finally figured out how to add photos to my blog… but all the photos (about 65 in all) have been uploaded to Picasa… have a great weekend!
So, it has been exactly one month since my arrival here in Cairo (not that I have been counting or anything). It has been one month since landing in the desert. One month since paying an exorbitant amount of Egyptian pounds for a Mercedes ride into the capital. One month since leaving home to explore this new place. One month since leaving my friends and family back home in search of some sort of direction in my life. So, one month later… what have I learned?
1. How to Cross the Street – no matter how fast cars appear to be going, they are always paying attention and will at least slow down and/or try and swerve to avoid hitting you. I have made it one month without being hit by a car (knock on wood). Walking into traffic without even turning my head makes me a true Cairene.
2. How to Bargain – okay this skill is slightly a spillover from previous travels and negotiating with purse dealers in Georgetown & Manhattan for my sister… but I have a slightly more advanced system now. The first price they give you is say 500-600% over what it should be. So aim low (I know, high ambition, right?). And then meet in the middle, more towards your side. Or, pretend like you don’t have any money. I once had a Rolex Watch guy offer me a Rolex for 350 LE. I said “I have no money, but I would pay no more than 150 LE for it.” He said 250, 200, then finally 150. Also, have a friend egg him on my saying, “you really don’t need that” or “that is too expensive.” Then I said “I have no money” and proceeded to walk away. 100, finally down to 50 Pounds to which I opened my wallet and showed him by 1.50 pounds I had to my name by that point. Start walking away; if you are actually giving insulting prices, he won’t follow you. 9 times outta 10, he will, though. He wants your business. Also for cab drivers – just walk away. They can shout all the insults at you, but at the end of the day, you are the one with the money and they are not (as long as you get out of the cab prior to handing the driver your money).
3. I am Still Cheap - despite the unfortunately weak Dollar abroad (me=sad for my European travels), stuff here is still wicked cheap. The first few days, 20 pounds was like toilet paper for most of us. “Eh, 20 LE, its not even 4 bucks.” But now I cringe to pay even 10 pounds for anything. Putting a Jew like me in Cairo is like putting a fat kid in a reality television show where he has to eat his way out of a candy castle, swim his way through a chocolate fudge moat, and run (read: walk cause clearly this fat kid can’t run) his way through fields of potato chips.
4. Tourists still Give a Bad Name Everywhere – I have met very few American tourists in Egypt, but I have met plenty others. Mainly at touristy spots, which is expected, but at certain locations (i.e. Zamalek, by AUC, and downtown), wearing spaghetti-straps, shorts, and generally provocative clothing does give tourists bad names because that simply isn’t the culture. I was talking with a Spaniard in a restaurant a couple of weeks ago; wearing very short shorts, and a tank top, while her husband adorned a safari outfit, I wanted to warn them to dress more apt for Egyptian life, but they were leaving that day, so the point was mute. Some walk in with the attitude “I do what I want” (that was our senior motto at Franklin Regional High School) but here, at least respect the culture (you most likely will be treated more like a local and will get better prices on things).
5. BBC News is Far Superior to CNN - briefs are better, breaking news is actually breaking news, there is a wider variety of international stories pertaining to what I actually care about, and finally, it is interesting to view what stories the world actually cares about in America. Nothing involving Rosie O’Donnell or Donald Trump is news, people. Now an MP assassinated in Beirut, or monks clashing with riot police in Burma, I would say these classify as applicable stories (all taken from this AM’s websites).
6. Traffic Laws Don’t Exist – we do have traffic lights, and signs, and road markings, and police directing traffic, but does that matter: of course not. If something is preventing you from getting to work or class on time, or you can’t get to your falafel place quick enough after sundown, why shouldn’t you break every law in order to do it. I mean… it’s not like the government actually enforces these laws (they only enforce laws infringing on important freedoms that ensure their regime stays in power for enough of the next 43928304980934 years).
7. Cairo is Polluted - a recent study (followed by a WSJ article) listed Cairo as the most polluted major city in the world, with the WSJ article so eloquently putting it “Athletes to the Beijing Olympics are being warned to arrive as late as possible to the games as to ensure they don’t get sick from world’s second worst air quality; the first, being of course, Cairo, Egypt.” This is this Third World; their sanitation workers aren’t unionized and clearly the top of their to-do-list is pick up garbage. Also, there are over 2 million cars registered in Cairo! Most of them older than ten years and have very little fuel efficiency, so I am actually glad to be here now because in ten years, it will be even harder to breathe. It smells a little, but you get used to it. Since it is Ramadan, many refrain from using their cars and for the first time in about two weeks, a massive smog cloud lingered over Downtown Cairo this morning as I trekked into campus. Normally, the smog centers around the Nile and today it was even worse than normal.
8. Keep in Contact with Friends & Family – I actually have faster broadband here in Cairo than I do in the U.S. (not counting my house). I am online all the time (probably more than when I am at AU) and I love hearing from y’all. Whether you shoot me an IM or send me an email, it brightens my day. I honestly have no regrets about this experience itself, but I do just wish that I could have picked up my life completely (friends, family, and things) and moved it here, partly because I miss you all dearly, but partly because I want you all to experience this with me. I take for granted crossing the Nile every morning and every evening coming to and from class. I take for granted the fact that probably 95% of you will never see the awe of the Pyramids, or get to climb Mount Sinai where Moses received the Ten Commandments. Most of you will probably never make it here and that saddens me, but makes me aware of how blessed I really am and how many opportunities I have been afforded. I have stepped foot on four continents, while I know that some people will never leave the United States (for one reason or another), and they are happy about that. I’m not content with the status quo. I love Cairo and I love this region, enough, that if I didn’t have commitments, and people that loved and cared about me, I probably would stay here. I do really miss all of you, if I didn’t I wouldn’t keep up with this blog so much. It’s my way of showing how much I care about you.
So like I always say: The only way to have a friend, is to be one.
My journeys take me this weekend to Alexandria, on the Mediterranean coast. Salaam Aleikum (Peace be with you).
… for a rant of sorts. Part of studying abroad is adjusting one’s life to the surroundings and being able to function normally far, far away from home. So – in typical Adam format – I am going to complain; not about Egypt (yes, I actually like it here), but about America. True to my personality that so many of you have longingly missed in my four-week absence, I have a problem: American television.
So brace yourself… brace yourself for a possible TV Writers Strike. Yes. Not metro workers or school teachers, or even sanitation workers, but the Writers Guild of America is threatening to take to the picket lines (can you actually picture them with signs) should they not agree to a new contract by October 31 with their respective studios. You know what that means, dontcha? Enjoy the new seasons of The Office, Law & Order and Desperate Housewives while you still can (don’t worry, Lost doesn’t premiere until February. I know, I was worried too). What would American television viewers do if their precious prime-time slots aren’t filled with their favorite shows on the tube?
Have no fear, America, should this improbable strike actually occur, your evenings will be filled with a wide assortment of reality television shows (Are You Smarter than a Fifth Grader? Probably not if you are mourning over the loss of primetime TV) as well as possible imports of British and Canadian television series (for once our imports will actually be cheaper… the free-falling Dollar, anyone?), because G-d forbid we don’t have several hundred television channels on DirecTV or digital cable. The article then goes on to ensure Americans that the mega-billion dollar entertainment industry is doing everything it possibly can to work out an arrangment with the writers.
To be fair, the writers do have a point. They do only receive half of their incomes from residuals (reruns and re-airing of episodes) and the fact that many series have now moved online [either on networks own websites or via iTunes (that's another story with NBC...) or Amazon's new Unbox] where viewers can either pay a modest fee or view episodes free online as long as they sit through a quick three or four advertisements per episode. Standards for residuals have not been updated since studios began releasing television seasons on DVD’s a few years back, so the whole residual system is simply outdated. Yes, outdated, and yes it needs-a-changin’ but why do you have to delay my season of Two and a Half Men???
Well instead of paying Charlie Sheen $350,000 per episode for Two and a Half Men, why doesn’t the network renegotiate with their writers, because clearly Charlie Sheen has to get his jokes from somewhere (we all know he isn’t that funny). I don’t pretend to know much about the entertainment industry. A friend from high school went on to record an album in Hollywood, so that is about all of the experience I have in that field, but I am pretty sure that these writers for primetime television aren’t starving, part-time waiters in Burbank who can’t afford their rent.
For all of you primetime television fans out there — I profess my love too, but not enough to freak out about not seeing CSI: Miami broadcast at 10pm on Tuesdays? Mondays? whatever day? — may I suggest reading a book? I mean I clearly understand that if you cannot see… I’m running out of television shows I can name… um… Crossing Jordan, oh wait that was canceled… (now I am looking on ABC’s website)… Grey’s Anatomy on Thursday nights at 9pm, your entire world may be over, but honestly, is it really that important? Yes, Meredith is going to end up with McSteamy, right? No, seriously, when did we become such a nation obsessed with television? I adore my Lost and any show on Bravo, but half the time I am involved in activities that either require me to record the show (thank you TiVo) or watch it online (thank you Broadband).
So I guess out of this jumbled mess I could call a blog post, I would like you to basically get out and do something. Be involved. How rewarding is watching Charlie Sheen and Holland Taylor argue over everything under the sun? Is it really going to improve your life? Don’t worry about the possible strike; the writers won’t do it and the networks won’t allow deep cuts into their pockets. Jews would never allow it!
By the way… here is the link to the article in the Pittsburgh Post Gazette: http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/07267/820141-237.stm
Okay… I didn’t really chill with all sixteen million of them, but I’d have to say that I chilled out with quite a few.
This past weekend I decided to spend a few days relaxing (well relaxing in the sense that the air is still barely breathable; Cairo has the worst air quality of any city in the world. Yes for being #1!) around Cairo after a month or so of settling in. Last weekend we journeyed to the Sinai and I returned quite fatigued and quite ecstatic to sleep in a comfortable bed (as comfortable as a bed with movable slabs and barely any padding can be), have prevalent access to cheap food, and be able to use restroom facilities without fear of exposure to TB, or being attacked by crazy cats, or even both (cats with TB, scary, right?).
Over the course of the weekend, I did a whole lot of nothing. Sleeping in, doing some homework, catching up on leisure reading, all in all, I returned to my normal, dismal life that I lead back in the U.S., with the added bonus of attending a party in Garden City (very reminsicent of AU) and hanging out with friends in local cafes. I was going to go to the zoo and bribe the zookeepers to play with lion cubs and monkeys, but I didn’t get out of bed until relatively late. And Saturday was Yom Kippur so a day of reflection was much needed (despite staying up until 6am “catching up” with a friend from home).
Despite not achieving much productivity this weekend, the R&R&R (rest, relaxation, reflection) was something I have been longing for not only for the past few weeks of busyness but also for the past few months as I have been slowly trying to piece my life together. The complicatedness I would call my life hasn’t gotten any easier; problems I thought I could avoid by leaving DC have only evidenced themselves through the internet and not via text messaging. But these weekends of basically doing nothing provide a time to think and that is basically all I am asking for right now.
Today, my life is busy yet again. Picked up my student visa (and passport), dealt with International Student Services Office, printed off review materials, began studying for an exam tomorrow, talked to my Dad, began thinking of where I should intern when I return in the spring, emailed my adviser regarding course approvals, and began planning my trip for Eid el-Fatr, or my Fall Break in early October. Man today is so stressful, and it is only five o’clock. How do you say “siesta” in Arabic?
I do have things to look forward to, however. My roommate and I are going to Alexandria this weekend (second largest city in Egypt, on the Mediterranean coast), followed by a personal trip (unless I can find a travel buddy) to Southern Israel (Eilat) and Petra in Jordan the following weekend, culminating in Fall Break with a journey (hopefully) to Turkey and Greece, with friends to Istanbul and alone to Athens. Hopefully all is well in the states (and elsewhere). Salaam.
Despite my love/hate relationship (mainly hate) with the Egyptian government, I get excited when I do approve of their policies. Despite their harsh oppressiveness in the form of limited of basic rights, incessant elimination of opposition parties, and jailing of members of the press, observing copyright laws isn’t one of their government’s fortes, so as to benefit the citizens, especially poor college students scrapping by in order to pay for travel around the region (aka me).
Listed on AUC’s website, they estimate that students should budget approximately 1400-2000 LE (or about $250-350) per semester, assuming that you decide to actually buy your books and that you intend to pay the ridiculous prices at the AUC Bookstore. For my light 12 credits this semester, I am only required to purchase one book, which I did, at a meager 110 LE (or $21 or so). For my other three classes, we have a fantastic option for the reading called The Copy Centre. There are several near campus (including one on campus, which clearly overcharges), but the one preferred by most students and professors is the one by the Shisha place near Greek Campus. For my three courses that I needed “course packets” for, I paid – prepare yourself – 90 LE, or about $18. These course packets contain all the readings for the semester, both the articles and readings from the books that the professors have “recommended” we purchase. For those of you unaware, students at AU in Washington receive $25.00 in printing bucks, usually reserved for mass readings, printing papers, etc, but rarely could you actually buy three of your classes reading materials for under that amount. So, in the continual bragging about how great and cheap my semester is, there it is. $40 for books for the semester and I get to keep the resources, since I legitimately like the material I am studying.
Just about everywhere we go, we get noticed. I’d say it is by the color of our skin, or by our western clothing, but either way, the locals always tend to greet us. “Welcome to Egypt” is one of the most common sayings, or “Welcome to Cairo” but beyond those few words, they can’t really say much more. So usually, we just say “Hello” or “Thank you” or “Have a nice day” but sometimes, when we feel adventurous, we say “Shukran (thank you)” or “kaifa-el-hal” (how are you doing) and we always get a few random looks before they say something back, quite jumbled I may add, back in Arabic. Rarely they continue the conversation, but on the off-chance they do, we get into where I am from, what I am doing here, the fact that I live here and that I am not a tourist, amongst other things. The people here tend to be fascinated with us (and our money) so they are as friendly as possible when they think we are in the market for, say, a car transmission or metal fencing. Cairo is divided into many small neighborhoods which specialize in selling certain goods. So if I wanted to buy car parts, I would head across the river to Bulaq or if I wanted lanterns, I’d head near the Citadel. There are tons of fascinating neighborhoods which are worth getting to know, but much of the city looks the same, just different neighborhoods, selling different products. Certain areas are nicer than others and I am sure I will be returning there and when I do return, I am sure, regardless of how long I will have lived here, that I will receive the greeting “Welcome to Egypt!”
In Egypt, the Muslim day of rest is Friday, so here, weekends run Friday & Saturday, with classes meeting from Sunday thru Thursday. A bit confusing? I know. I still wake up with the “what’s the date, day, time, place I am in look” every single day generally, even though I have now been here for three weeks. Since I have modified my schedule enough to only have Monday/Wednesday classes, theoretically I have four day weekends, every single weekend. Well this past weekend we decided to go to Mount Sinai & Dahab for quite an adventure (and all the photos have now been uploaded online… see left).
A little background first, however; Mt. Sinai is on the Sinai peninsula (in Asia but still in Egypt), but was taken over by the Israelis during the Six-Day Way in 1967 until peace was signed in 1979, so the area is heavily fortified with tons of security checkpoints, still reflecting the past and anticipating the future since Sinai is seen as an easy point of entry into Egypt. The bus ride from Cairo to Sinai (via the Suez Canal) is about seven hours, with an additional 1.5 hour ride to Dahab on the eastern coast on the Red Sea.
Thursday AM, we (Carrie, Meghan and I) were off, with a backpack and bag a piece, and no reservations beyond the 11am bus ride to Mt. Sinai. We decided to leave a day ahead of everyone and go to Dahab for the day instead of taking a seven hour bus ride, spending about 18 hours at Mt. Sinai and immediately returning. The bus ride to Mt. Sinai was very interesting; an older model bus with tons of people just getting on and off at their own leisure. Our bus driver was slightly crazy (would yell at basically everyone, except tourists, saying either they didn’t pay enough or they hadn’t properly checked their bags) and he also had quite a lead-foot. On the bus, I had several good conversations with locals. One man, Ahmed, was from the area and had decent English. He was coming from Cairo; he taught math locally and was obsessed with calculus (differential equations) which is amazing because most Americans don’t understand calculus, let alone Egyptians. Anyways… I also met a gentlemen, never quite caught his name, who got on the bus randomly, and also left the bus randomly. He spoke decent English as well and decided the bus ride was a perfect place to roll up joints of Hashish. I was offered some; and declined, thankfully because despite his good natured-attitude, I couldn’t help wonder what his intentions were.
We arrived at Sinai at 6pm, the three of us and one more tourist. Upon arrival, since it was iftar or the feast dinner, the town was rather deserted. Deserted as in, no noise whatsoever, no shops open, no people around, rather creepy since we didn’t have hotel or bus reservations anywhere. We managed to find a minibus driver and hired him to take us to Dahab through the mountains of the Sinai desert. Several cigarettes and checkpoints later, we arrived in Dahab, an old Bedouin village turned backpackers paradise snuggled beautifully between the Sinai mountains and the Red Sea, across the Gulf of Aqaba from Saudi Arabia. After finding the little camp we wanted to stay at (affectionately called Alaska Camp in the desert) we walked along the water to get some dinner. The food was great at an Egyptian take on Italian food called Portofino, but the best part was sitting on the beach, with the waves crashing 2 meters from our feet on the sand. Following dinner, we sat in another restaurant on the water, smoking shisha and enjoying fantastic milkshakes, talking about issues in the Middle East and genuinely enjoying each other’s company. What a day, what a day.
Waking up late in our nice air conditioned hotel for about $6 was nice the next morning. Even better was sneaking onto the private resort beach down-shore. Dahab in Arabic means “Golden” so the sand at Dahab was golden. After walking along the beach for a little, we stumbled upon one of the best beaches I have ever seen. The water was the bluest I have ever witnessed and with the backdrop of sand and mountains, it was also the prettiest. We laid around for a bit, going in the water, and generally being in awe of windsurfers who were taking advantage of the strong winds to play around in the cove. Carrie, Meghan and I walked over to inquire about the windsurfing, only to learn that: A) You can’t just do it for one hour; B) Courses were taught in 5 days with students not even getting into the water until day 3; and C) It was over 100 Euro just for a one-day package. Scrap that. We decided to walk back up to town and find a cool place to eat and just relax.
We did just that and found a fantastic Persian restaurant, another “on the beach” restaurant but this one, you just sat on the ground, relaxing with pillows, enjoying the breeze and the views. Following our meal, we relaxed; we smoked some shisha and I learned how to play Backgammon. Three hours later, we decided to go for a camel ride, but since the camels weren’t there we were swayed into horseback riding to get the camels. After bargaining, we got the price to an acceptable level and took it. But we never got the camels. One hour later, and slightly upset, we only paid the guy half of what we originally proposed and called it a day by ordering margaritas at a rooftop bar overlooking the Red Sea. All of our meals were enjoyed at restaurants hugging the water. What a beautiful day… only to be trumped by the hike up Mt. Sinai.
After taking a “personal taxi” with an Egyptian and his Swedish wife back to Mt. Sinai, we met an unfortunate roadblock (literally). At the base of the mountain is a security checkpoint where the tourist police basically force a guide (for 50 LE) upon you. Despite our other group of friends managing to slip past the barrier without a guide, we argued for fifteen minutes with the police before finally giving in and accepting our guide. Upon arrival at St. Katherine’s Monastery five minutes past the checkpoint, we realized that we didn’t need a guide…. or so we thought. Once settled in (with our bags in storage since we weren’t shelling out $55 American dollars for a room), we decided to get an early start on the hike up one of the most important religious mountains in the world. Oh wait – we can’t get past another checkpoint without a guide – so we had to find another guide who was willing to take us up the mountain. (We eventually realized the only reason we needed a guide and a security guard was because we were American. Yes! I love being a tourist!)
We hiked. And we hiked. And we hiked some more. Six kilometers up the camel path until we reached the final 750 steps up to the summit. By steps, I don’t mean steps by American standards. I mean rock steps; saying they were uneven was an understatement. The hike, until that point, wasn’t awful. We stopped a few times, but when we reached the steps, it became grueling. By that point, you are almost at the summit, but camels cannot go any further, so to reach the top you must climb the steps. They were quite intense and by seeing the fortitude and determination of the elders (including monks, nuns and other clergymen), I began to realize how important this journey really was.
After passing say ten stands selling everything from Coca and water, to renting blankets and mattresses, we made it! The summit was a lot smaller than I imagined. In my hiking glory days (aka my travels in Israel in January), when we reached the top, there was always tons of space to roam around and take in the natural beauty, but at the top of Mt. Sinai, there is a tiny Greek Orthodox church, a few rock-carved terraces, and that is about it. I’d say enough room maybe to hold one-hundred people comfortably, but instead there were a few hundred more. We arrived at about 3:30am and got maybe one hour of sleep under the most beautiful sky I have ever seen.
Hundreds upon hundreds of stars (I can’t even describe the beauty), tons of shooting stars and a few AUC students lying on the ground on the top of Mt. Sinai enjoying one of the important sites in religious history (for those of you unaware, Mt. Sinai is where G-d spoke to Moses and he received the 10 Commandments) sure was a sight to be seen. Since there was no light pollution, you could see so many stars and other stars in distant galaxies, which just added to the awe of the experience. At about 5am, when dawn starting showing itself, we all huddled together under a few blankets on a rock, hanging over the edge of the mountain and we finally began to see the beauty of the surrounding mountains. We were perched high above the rest of Sinai, able to see the horizon over Saudi Arabia as we eagerly awaited the pending sunrise. For me, it was even more intense, seeing the sunrise at Mt. Sinai on Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year. Quite possibly the most incredible thing I have ever done. I said a few blessings in Hebrew (as I took photos) of the sun rising behind the mountains and finally showing itself to the hundreds of people making the pilgrimage. The feeling was so inspirational; seeing the sunrise from Mt. Sinai, the same point that Moses did when he received the commandments from G-d, was second only to touching the Western Wall in Jerusalem.
Being in Egypt and not being able to go to Israel for the High Holidays isn’t fun. No seriously, it’s like the distance from Boston to Washington and I am unable to be in the most important city in Judaism for the high holidays because my visa is currently is in processing. Enough whining, right?
So in lieu of going to Israel, I had to settle for the next best thing: trying to find a syngagogue in Cairo. There are only two (possibly three) functioning synagogues in all of Egypt. And when I mean functioning, I don’t mean “hey let’s go to synagogue on a Friday night and worship.” By functioning I mean that a few times a year (Rosh Hashanah -today, Yom Kippur, Sukkot, Simchat Torah, Hanukkah, Passover, and maybe four other times a year) they open the gate to worshipers. The Jewish population is Egypt is less than 100, with a man in the Israeli Embassy telling me they estimate it more at about fifty; mainly old women who have either hid their religious beliefs or have recently re-found their faith.
So anyways… today, before one of my classes I stopped into the International Student Services Office to ask directions to Adly Street (Shariah Adly) and found out it was rather close to campus (only a ten minute walk). So during my break I walked over to inquire about Rosh Hashanah services this evening. Finding the synagogue was easy (massive building with Stars of David everywhere), but actually finding any information about a time for worship was the real problem. After putzing around with a guard in Arabew (Arabic & Hebrew) for a little, he finally let me in so I could talk a member of the Israeli Embassy. I was told to return at 6:30 for shul and a feast.
So I did just that. After my Survey in Arab History course, I hopped in a cab (for 2 LE, $0.40) and took it to Shariah Adly. After illegally (haha, nothing here is really illegal) making a turn down a one-way street, we were shooed away from the front of the synagogue by none other than my friends, the IDF, or the Israeli Defense Forces. Yes, Israel sends a light brigade of thirty soldiers to “defend” the Rosh Hashanah service, should anything happen. Let me tell you, having security guards at shul at home is nice; having the Israeli Army defending your right to pray is another thing – great feeling, but you still can’t help feeling a little uneasy. After reassuring the first soldier I was Jewish, I went to security checkpoint number 2. There I was inquired about what is Rosh Hashanah, what is Yom Kippur, how many days is Passover, who is the Israeli Prime Minister, what is my Hebrew name, etc, finally culminating in me saying thank you in three languages (Hebrew, Arabic and English). Oh yeah – security checkpoint number three was next. This high-fashioned gentlemen (who easily could have fit in the Gucci Corner) was a member of Mossad. Yes, they also sent members of the Israeli intelligence service to protect us as well. I got through that one in a breeze when he saw my Chai around my neck, quarried from Eilat in southern Israel, and I was finally free to enter the courtyard of the synagogue. Along with about fifteen other worshipers, we headed into the sanctuary.
Since the synagogue doesn’t function year around, they have to bring in a rabbi to do the selected services. And the local community here in Cairo chooses a Rabbi from Paris. Growing up in Morocco, he speaks fluent Arabic and Moroccan French (a little different) and eventually moved to Paris to become a Rabbi. So this slick Morocco-Parisian walks in, dressed in white; no, not like a robe white, but a bright white suit (Versace, of course) with nice white tuxedo shoes and he introduces himself properly. By that point about ten other AUC students had found the place and we had migrated together (as we usually do) and did the “hey, where are you from, where do you go to school, etc” deal before sitting down. Upon sitting we realized we had no siddurim (prayer books). Well it turned out that no one else did, either. About fifty people were at shul (15 AUC students, 5 members of the Israeli Embassy) so the actual community consisted of maybe thirty individuals, of which maybe five had prayer books. I followed to the best of my ability with the book I was sharing and kinda, sorta knew what was going on. Meanwhile, when I got lost, I would just stare up at the gorgeous architecture of the synagogue. Built over a century ago, it has withstood the multiple sackings as nearly all of the Jews of Cairo and Egypt left.
Following services, a very nice “feast” was provided for in an adjacent room. Lots of food (including gefilte fish, a Jewish staple) was served and we just enjoyed one another’s company. A very great way of celebrating the new year; new friends, new experiences, in a completely new world.
L’shana Tova (Happy New Year) to everyone.
And a Ramadan Mubarek (Ramadan Blessings) for it is also the beginning of Ramadan tonight.
I will be at Mount Sinai (and the beach) for the weekend. I hope everyone has a great week!
Just another day. I’m not unpatriotic, but I completely forgot the date, until say two minutes ago, when I saw the post date on my “Displayed ID Only” post. This post is clearly an afterthought; just the fact that we have FINALLY (although Decision 2008 is just around the corner) returned to normalcy and we have not replayed the images of six years ago, is evidence that we are able to move on and not let that date be the defining moment in our generation. Props, Millennials. I may admit, being halfway around the world may have something to with the coverage (or lack thereof), but I still feel we were able to overcome. Hopefully everyone had a great day; I know I sure did.
Much to the satisfaction of thousands of American parents (and family members and friends) biting their nails, pondering over the safety of their children, Cairo is a very safe place. Yes, this is the Middle East, and yes “just like the unicorn, the status quo [here] is a figment of fertile imaginations” (Prof. Montasser), I have yet to feel like my life is in jeopardy (although crossing the street, you rarely have time to think of anything but “I hope that car stops” or the “Man, that car isn’t stopping. I hope I fit between these two cars”).
So yes, back to the safety. Their are police everywhere. We even get our own police force, affectionately labeled the “Tourist Police” (yes, Egyptians are not only inguinitive, they are also creative), whose sole responsibility is to ensure the thousands of short-sporting, spaghetti-strap wearing tourists are able to get from Point A to Point B, should their overly flamboyant tour guide abandon them. Combined with the actual police (who rarely move from their little stalls), I feel safe. Everything at the American University in Cairo is secure; I illustrate this by the five security guards, “diligently” manning the metal detectors or “meticulously” checking through everyone’s bags as they fervently wait to enter the oasis in the middle of Cairo, so they can get to their classrooms and “learn.”
Sarcasm isn’t easily portrayed via the internet, so the lovely technique I have chosen to use is the quotation marks. Yes, in that last sentence, three words were quoted ever-so-carefully to ensure that my point is emphasized. Security is great here, yes, but security for everyone else. Repeatedly I remark how well we are treated in this country, but at the security checkpoints into the campus, I almost feel as if they treat me too well. Mondays usually begin like this: I get off the shuttle at Greek Campus (after fighting in traffic for 40 minutes to go, say, 2 kilometers). After a quick pancake with sugar (for about $0.08) I briskly enter the gate, sporting my usual aviators and iPod (listening to This Week with George Stephanopoulos is the highlight of my morning), I reach for my wallet ready to grab my AUC ID Card, so I can go through “Displayed ID Only” line, whatever that means. Meanwhile, this is all in one fluid motion; I rarely break my “get me out of the filth that is Downtown Cairo” pace as I enter campus. The security guard usually pushes me through the metal detector without even seeing my ID or searching through my bag, let alone seeing if the detector actually goes off (it has yet to for anyone and I have been here two weeks. The light flashes, but no noise comes out).
I must admit, however, that the security is a bit much at our residences, as evidenced by the twenty-or-so security staff manning the Zamalek residence. Two weeks in, they basically know who lives there and who doesn’t. Fine. But after extensive bag searches every single time, signing in and out after ten PM, and paying four guards to make sure that some rogue, American girl doesn’t try to jump the ropes and sprint up to the guy’s tower, I wonder about the disparity between the two security procedures. It is the law, yes, but I think one guard is suffice. We are all consulting adults; this isn’t boarding school or Jewish day camp, we can figure things out for ourselves. It almost (ALMOST, but not completely) makes me appreciate the AU-way of doing things.
So today, while waiting for a friend to pass through (he pleasantly shows the contents of his bag to the guard, who clearly doesn’t care, but still puts on a smile. I later teach him the proper way of entering AUC), I take a quick glance at those entering campus who, how can I put this PC, clearly are not of Western origin. A sixty year-old professional woman, clearly an AUC professor as evidenced by her designer outfit, forgot her ID card. Security wouldn’t let her through until they got clearance of her intentions at AUC. I’m all for security – there is no profile for a suicide bomber (as I have been told by close to 100 people, experts and not) – but clearly this sixty year old Egyptian woman was probably going to go teach her class to students who really didn’t care. Maybe keeping her away from her class was actually doing some local students a favor, since they could have more valuable time in the Gucci Corner.
I hate to say it (and these aren’t my words), but the color of my skin is my admission ticket, not just at AUC but all over the city. While the locals get criticized for their appearance of their ID’s or get their bags scrutinized for five minutes, I waltz right onto campus without batting an eye at the security procedures present, which are meant to ease my parent’s qualms about me being here. The extra security AUC has in place is just another measure taken to ensure that the reputation of the American University in Cairo is kept in high standing. Too bad it is the bureaucratic nonsense that really needs a-changing.
Gucci. Versace. Burberry. Lacoste. Georgio Armani. Chanel. Cartier. Louis Vuitton. Prada. Dolce & Gabbana. Rock and Republic. Chanel. Fendi. The first thought that pops into your mind when you think these names is Rodeo Drive, Fifth & Madison Avenues, or even Friendship Heights (a stretch, I know, but it proves a point). Here in Cairo, these names don’t describe mannequins facing Mohammad Mahmoud Street, but rather it describes the outfits of four individual students standing in the self-proclaimed “Gucci Corner” at the American University in Cairo. I was immediately warned of where “hangouts” are for all students: nerdy international students hang out in between the tennis & basketball courts on Main Campus and cool international students congregate in the fountain courtyard on Main, while nerdy local students sit on the library steps on Greek Campus, and the cool locals hang out in the Gucci Corner, or courtyard on Greek campus. (Upon hearing this, I was glad that I typically sit in the fountain area, if solely not for the reason that there is a man serving juicy lemonade there, my friends usually end up talking there while waiting for classes).
To test out this theory of where all the cliques hang out, on the first day of classes, I was dressed in my best (as most students usually are their first day back) and waltzed onto Greek campus. Already on day one, the Gucci corner was stuffed with designer bags, huge sunglasses, and wardrobe insurance policies more valuable than my home. Defeated, while wearing my linen pants (Armani Exchange) and a slim-fit polo (Banana Republic) I retreated to the fountain area where I felt more at home, away from the snobs and hanging out with my international friends who could stomach my less-than designer choice of outfits.
Snob is a bit harsh, as I look back, so I’m going to affectionately call these prideful members of the Gucci Corner “Guccis,” so as to distinguish between the people with money and the people with money and those who raise their noses upon seeing you, as some snobs here tend to do. So back to the Guccis… as I have been on campus more, I tend to see exactly what differentiates them from American Guccis. Money. Not that anyone in the U.S., or for that matter, at American University (where much of my bias lies because it is the only university I have experienced), isn’t rich, but here when I say rich, I mean RICH. Like Warren Buffett or Bill Gates or even Oprah (haha) rich. The inhabitants of the Gucci Corner primarily come from rich families, and rich usually means old money here. Yes, their fathers are doctors, lawyers and bankers, like in the U.S., but their grandfathers, uncles, or even fathers, own oil wells, run countries and have towns (or Metro stations) named after them. This is a new breed of wealth that I have never been exposed to, although it does exist in the U.S., the sheer concentration in the form of the Gucci Corner simply blows my mind away.
The quotation of this post comes from a very friendly, but airhead-ish Egyptian girl (a Gucci) in one of my classes. While discussing peace in the Middle East with a few other international students, the topic of Jimmy Carter’s book on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict arose and the girl leaned over to me and said (as her diamond draped neck leaned ever-so-close), “Wasn’t Cartier an American President? Now, I know he designed great jewelry, but wasn’t he also elected as President?” After almost removing my non-designer flip flop and hitting her over the head with it, I replied “Well Jimmy Carter was a President. I assume Cartier did some great work with jewelry but they are two separate people.” Man can I only wait to hear her comments this upcoming week.
Without trying to bring in intellect, the income disparity between the rich and the poor is relatively apparent in the form of the American University in Cairo. In Egypt, dressing Western is a symbol of social status. As a Westerner, I am seen as wealthy, despite my J. Crew, Banana Republic and Ralph Lauren wardrobe not being good enough to hang out in the Gucci Corner. Outside the gates, a woman is always selling tissues on the street or a young boy is selling delicious pancakes with sugar for 50 piasters (about $0.08) to scratch on by, while inside the gates, the wealth is flourishing in the form of designer belts, messenger bags, and shoes, by students who probably don’t even know what a piaster is (it’s what we call cents – 100 piasters to every Egyptian Pound), let alone the value of it.
And you thought that Iran didn’t like the Jews…
A common misconception worldwide (especially in America) is that everyone in the Middle East doesn’t like anyone else, especially Jews, Christians, Americans and Israelis (they may not like the last group too much). But as I have learned in just two short weeks, most people here are accepting of other people, they just don’t really care for the governments. Give this article a quick read:
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB118912609718220156.html
My professor for my Issues in Middle East Politics course is named Mufasa, like the lion king.
That’s all. I just thought it was worthy of a post because how many times in America do you have the leader who runs pride rock teach your class? Clearly if I had both Simba & Mufasa as professors my life would be umpteen times better, but I’ll take one with the name Mufasa over a professor named Cindy, Michael or Richard any day.
*I don’t know from experience, so don’t worry*
Since sending orientation on Sunday, we have been on our own again, able to explore the unexplored. After sleeping in on Monday a few of us decided to head to the Citadel, a massive mosque in eastern Cairo, perched high atop a hill overlooking the entire city. The views are (apparently) never-ending (despite the Cairo pollution), as is the history of one of the most historic sites in the city. But after our cab broke down on the hill, we decided to walk the rest of the way; much to our chagrin, however, we would never quite make it to the Citadel on Monday. Along the way we met a nice Egyptian man just asking us where we were from and where we were going, all sorts of interesting topics (you tend to have those with locals here) and he told us that the Mosque was closed for afternoon prayers and that there was another mosque closeby that offered panoramic views of all of Cairo, including of the Citadel. We reluctantly agreed because he was very nice and told us that he and his wife had just had their second son and he was returning from the hospital to get some sleep. He led us to a gorgeous mosque about 10 minutes away, but without prior notification, told us there was an admission fee. After scrapping together the large sum and feeling a bit conned, we ascended to the top of one of the towers, where we took in the beauty of the “Real Cairo.”
After deciding we had spent much of our funds on that mosque, we chose to explore the neighborhood and get lost. We ventured through a souk (market) and eventually came upon Khan el Khalili, one of the most famous souks in the entire world. Since I was with two girls, I continually got the “oh man, you are so lucky, with two wives” shpiel until we sat down at a famous cafe on a tiny little alley (the name escapes me) but it has been around for a couple of centuries and caters to both tourists and locals. We stayed for a couple of hours before retreating back to the souk and exploring some more; we returned to campus later that night after stumbling on some areas of the city I probably will never be able to find again, even if I tried.
Tuesday, after hanging around campus for a bit, we went on a felucca (long boat) ride on the River Nile, the longest river in the world. Despite it’s historical significance to the Egyptians, from the ancient period to modern times, the Nile is quite a filthy and disgusting river. We have been advised not to swim in it, or touch it for that matter, because we will get sick and we will die (Mean Girls, anyone?). So our group split into two and toured along the east side of the Nile, heading by some of the ritzy hotels (Four Seasons, Intercontinental, and Hyatt) and we experienced a sunset that truly reflects the beauty of the city, both old and new.
Today, I actually began the “study” portion of my experience. Classes for me began promptly at 9:30am on the Greek Campus, but in true AUC fashion, my first professor neglected to show up on the first day. My first class, Introduction to Political Economy, is comprised mainly of Egyptian students who were quite welcoming and helped me figure out where all of my classes were the rest of the day. My second class, Comparative Politics of the Middle East, was equally as exciting, despite the professor actually showing up. A former Yugoslav national, he could barely understand his English (not atypical for professors at American Universities… think AU, anyone?) but a nice man overall. Following class, I ran and got passport photos locally; the dark alley leading to the business seemed sketchy but after choosing to take the risk, I entered a gorgeous old Persian building with wall tapestries, incredibly woven rugs, and old , ornate mirrors reflecting its previous importance decades prior.
Lunch was boring.
My next two classes, Issues in Middle Eastern Politics and a Survey of Arab History were similar topics with similarly eccentric professors and we actually got into a debate in the Issues class on the first day disputing a claim by a student that Israel wasn’t part of the Arab world. So despite misgivings about the administration at AUC, I genuinely like the topics that I have selected and hope that this semester will be one to remember both academically and culturally.
For updated photos from these journeys, click on the left.
Up bright and early again today for a quick taxi ride into Midan Tahrir. As usual we wait an hour until everyone is ready to leave and we head to the Great Pyramids of Giza. A little background, first however, thanks to our lovely tourguide lady, Emin (I believe). The Great Pyramids were built on the Giza Plateau by the Ancient Egyptians, outside of their major city, Memphis, but now Cairo (the present capital of 20 million people, city proper) has expanded immensely that the urban sprawl has reached the desert of the Giza Plateau.
So we are driving along and all of a sudden, there they are, rising above the ever-present smog. We drive around them and eventually come to a lookout point from the west where all we can see is the three pyramids. Looking from the west (which most of photos are), the Great Pyramid of Giza was the pyramid for the tomb of Pharaoh Khufu, who first perfected this style of pyramid (over 2 million blocks of limestone, covered by a casing). His was the largest, and was known simply as the Great Pyramid of Giza and for 4,000 years, was the tallest man-made structure on Earth until 1300. Law forbid building larger than Khufu’s, but his son tried. Next to it (to the south) was the second largest pyramid, built by his son Khafre, who wanted to outshine his father, so he built his on an elevated platform (which is why it looks bigger when compared to the others). Khafre’s Pyramid still has a bit of limestone casing at the top, which distinguishes itself from the other two. Finally, Khafre’s son, Menkaure built his pyramid to the south of that and those are the three great Pyramids that comprise the Great Pyramids of Giza.
Following a quick glance from the observation point, we drove around to the Great Sphinx, which is a half-man, half-lion and acts as a guardian to the Giza Plateau and the pyramids in which the tombs are housed. We hung out there for a little, took some photos before heading off to lunch. The Great Sphinx is one of the largest and oldest statues and when it was originally discovered, it was covered in sand and has since been restored to some degree (minus the iconic nose, of course). Following Giza, we went to lunch and eventually went to Saqqara, about 20km south of Giza to another area of pyramids. There we went into a burial temple and saw hieroglyphics and wall paintings and went into a small pyramid where we saw the burial chamber. After that, we went to the Stepped Pyramid of Zoser, the first successful pyramid and toured around that tomb area. We ended up climbing a rock feature that had an AMAZING panoramic view, stretching from the Great Pyramids of Giza all the way to Cairo and everything in between including the fertile Nile River valley.
Despite it being 99 degrees all day, today was one of the most inspirational experiences I have ever had. Actually seeing the Pyramids is completely different than reading about them online or viewing them in books; seeing the strength of man, nearly 5,000 years ago and the monuments they were able to leave for thousands of years is a true testament to what we can do. I hope they stand for another 5,000 years so that people like me (and hopefully you) can enjoy them and appreciate them.
**I updated all of my photos from the weekend. You can find the link on the left-side of the blog. I changed it around a little, so if you bookmarked it, you can re-bookmark it because this is the definite site**
