Hope things are going well at home. I thought, since my homework load is rather small this evening, that I type up another entry, just to, you know, tell you how things are going. Since I've written next to nothing about living here, I decided to tackle the topic this time around. Just a warning, this semester is so much more prosaic than last semester. With no homestay family, I can't really write that I do anything so differently here than I would otherwise do at home. I have a set routine, other than, oh, weekend trips to climb Mt. Sinai or see the pyramids, you know...boring stuff. Haha, anyway, my day-to-day is routine, but comfortable. I think I'll cover this in two parts, because I don't want to bore you/I should get some homework finished...
As I've mentioned a couple times in other blogs or e-mails, I live on an island in the Nile in the heart of downtown Cairo. Think of it, in fact, as somewhat like Manhattan. Though it is not the economic heart of the city, it is an upscale and well-known neighborhood. There are a lot of us AUC students living in Zamalek, most of them in the student dorms two blocks away from my apartment, but also lots of others scattered about in nearby buildings. It's an interesting, pretty charming place, distinct from the rest of Cairo, and yet distinctly Egyptian. When some of my non-Zamalek-living friends come to visit, they like to compare Zamalek to Egypt transplanted to Europe: tree-lined streets, relative lack of litter, but still plenty of crazy drivers and souvenir shops.
Zamalek was known as "Gezira," or "Island" until the end of WWII, and no one is really sure where the name "Zamalek" originated ("Gezira," by the way, is the Egyptian pronunciation of "Jazeera," as in the news channel "Al-Jazeera," which means "The Island"). Zamalek had a pretty undistinguished history until Egypt's ruler Khedive Ismail had a palace built on the island in 1869. It housed European guests visiting Egypt to celebrate the opening of the Suez Canal, and was the site of the first performance of Verdi's Aida (which was commissioned for the opening of the Canal, but was not ready in time). Perhaps indicative of a greater theme in Egyptian history, the Palace has now been turned into the Cairo Marriott, one of the most prestigious hotels in the city (my friend still has a room key from when her parents were in town...we're thinking of breaking into the pool sometime soon...).
Thanks to more predictable Nile flooding schedules (due to dams), and to modernization projects that reclaimed swampy area for the city (think Washington DC--the Lincoln Memorial is built on entirely reclaimed Potomac land), Zamalek became inhabitable and was quickly built up by many foreign residents, particularly the British during their Protectorate. Many gorgeous European-inspired buildings went up, and have become home to the majority of the city's foreign embassies today (which is the reason I do not have pictures--the embassies don't like to let us take pictures).
One of the more infamous events in the history of the island involves a British colonial official named Lord Moyne. He was returning home on a November day in 1944 when two Zionists working for the terrorist organization, "Stern Gang," assassinated him and murdered his driver. The Stern Gang at this time was under the control of Yitzhak Shamir, who went on to become the Prime Minister of Israel from 1986-1992. It's amazing once you start to look at the history of the Middle East, there is definitely no "right or wrong" side, and everything is incredibly, irrevocably interconnected.
Perhaps a more amusing anecdote of Zamalek that I just learned today regards the Cairo Tower, a useless piece of concrete sitting on the south end of the island, ostensibly serving the purpose of being the tallest building in Cairo, and the tallest solely-concrete structure in the world (there's a revolving restaurant, but it's closed for renovations for the semester). During the early part of the Cold War, intrigue and bribes dictated relations between the United States and the USSR and the countries they were seducing into their spheres. The story goes that Teddy Roosevelt's son, Kermit, was assigned the task of giving 5 million dollars in hush money to Egyptian President Gamal Abdel Nasser. Well, Nasser, incensed at the idea that he could be bought off, decided to waste the American money in a most blatant and symbolic way. He built the Cairo Tower, which, all the guide books say, represents a lotus flower...but, in reality, looks more like a big middle finger sticking up at America, or...well, use your imagination.
Nasser's crowning architectural acheivement...at the expense of American taxpayers...lovely, right?So within this island is my little home on the 13th floor. I live two blocks away from AUC's dorms and use their shuttle bus (which runs every half-hour) to reach classes downtown. Initially, because I am not a dorm resident, I was asked to pay $120 (yes, $, not Egyptian pounds) to access this service. Well, I thought that was pretty excessive, so with the help of a friend's extra ID card, a passport photo, and some contact paper, I have successfully evaded this charge. Ah, sometimes it's so nice to feel like you're beating the bureaucratic system...
I share my apartment with two flatmates--Kirsten and Katie. They have both been here for the past semester, and have been great help with questions and recommendations, etc. Kirsten is studying in the Arabic Language Institute at AUC (ALI), and Katie is a fellow sutdy abroad student majoring in History at UMass. Kirsten, or "Christeena" as our genial doorman/every delivery man calls her, is prime renter of the apartment and has been our treasurer, problem-fixer, Arabic-translator, internet-obtaining hero. She spent her first week and a half back in Cairo just trying to work out ridiculous details with switching our internet provider (which I certainly appreciate considering I'm writing you now...). Katie is our dirtbuster, who, without fail, fearlessly dons the yellow rubber gloves and tackles our bathroom each Thursday afternoon--which is no small feat some Thursdays...So, with finances and hygiene covered, what am I? Why, the cookie-baker, of course! It was inevitable since the apartment has an oven...I'll continue to justify/rationalize the importance of this role to the livelihood of the apartment...no one else seems to mind it too much (that is, if I do help out with that other stuff here and there).
Well, pretty great roomies ("flaties?"), but my first night here with Kirsten couldn't have given her the best impression of me. I arrived to Egypt on a Sunday afternoon on effectively no sleep in 48 hours. With the help of my friend Tim, I made it from the airport to Zamalek and found the apartment. I met Kirsten briefly (Katie was not in town yet), and then we both left and went our separate ways. I returned back to the apartment around 7, and, not thinking, locked and sliding-locked the door behind me. "I'll go read in bed a bit," I told myself, but within 10 minutes I had passed out in my bed cold with my lights on and my door open. Well, around 9:30, Kirsten returns home and, for some reason, can't open the door. She realizes that I must have locked the sliding lock (which obviously has no key), and I must be woken in order for the door to be opened. So she knocks...and knocks...and knocks...and an hour passes. Feeling tired and a little under the weather herself, she decides to enlist the doorman's help from downstairs. He repeatedly calls our apartment phone with no success, so he comes up and starts banging on the door himself. More time passes, and he decides to try the roof (yes, we're the penthouse). He takes some sort of heavy device and repeatedly crashes it into the ceiling directly above my bed--still absolutely nothing. Resigned, he tells Kirsten the only way she's getting into that room is if he breaks down the door. She watches with trepedation as he smashes through the side frame of the door. After she's finally successfully inside the apartment, he returns with a hammer and nails and proceeds to hammer the door frame back together after hours of struggle.
So, do I wake up to any of this? Nope, not a single thing; I have absolutely no recollection of it whatsoever and my only clue to it initially was a note from Kirsten asking me to never use the sliding lock again--trust me, I haven't even touched it. Thankfully, it's now become a joke, not a point of resentment (or at least, I think so).
Anyway, I really have to go. I've got some homework and chores before bed, so I'll be back with part 2 of this, insha'allah, soon! Thanks for reading. I wanted to include one last picture from my apartment window in Zamalek at sunset, my favorite time of day here in Cairo. Maybe it's just the pollution, but Cairo sure has some beautiful sunsets. Talk to you all again soon! (And those of you in DC, enjoy those cherry blossoms!)
No comments:
Post a Comment