Just Another Day

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.

Displayed ID Only

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.