Life on the Nile, Part 2

So, I'm walking home from AUC last week when I decide to take some time to stop and admire the rampant bougainvilla exploding over the sides of a fence. As I walk along entranced, I come upon a man peeing off the sidewalk into said profusion of flowers. Sigh, I thought, and continued on. A little further on up the road, soon after crossing the street myself, I hear "screech! Ah!" and the sound of an expensive cell phone clattering to the ground. A man has just been hit by a car (not fatally, no worries-it happens here), and, as the traffic cop walks over complacently to take care of business, he doesn't neglect to send a flirty little, "Hello," my way. What this story says about Egypt, or me for that matter, is unclear, but it somehow it all just seemed so appropriate, so...Egyptian.

They're not cherry blossoms, but they certainly offer some compensation

A week ago Sunday there was supposed to be a giant strike in Tahrir Square, one of the central foci of downtown Cairo, just outside the gates of AUC. Several classes were cancelled, and a general sense of impending storm descended on the student body Saturday evening and Sunday morning. As the day wore on uneasily, however, the only numbers increasing in Tahrir Square were the units of police and soliders in riot gear, armed with nightsticks and guns. Apparently, the strike leaving from Cairo University to march on the Square was broken before it could be started. Conveniently, Egyptian emergency law, which prohibits strikes or protests, has been more or less in continuous effect since Sadat's assassination, in, oh, 1981. Strikers were planning to protest against low wages across many industrial sectors in Egypt, as well as to demonstrate their anger with the rising food prices across the country. What's more, the non-storm of protest was accompanied by a sandstorm here in Cairo; the world literally turned yellow. It couldn't have been a more fitting air to the general sense of malaise. It was extremely disheartening.

Some articles that may be of interest to you readers (since this blog is pretty much just about Egypt right now), are the following links:

36 Hours in Cairo http://travel.nytimes.com/2008/02/03/travel/03hours.html

A City Where You Can't Hear Yourself Scream http://www.nytimes.com/2008/04/14/world/middleeast/14cairo.html?pagewanted=1&ei=5070&en=71ad24317c284758&ex=1208923200&emc=eta1

Egypt Braces for General Strike http://www.cnn.com/2008/WORLD/africa/04/05/egypt.strike.ap/index.html?eref=rss_latest
Egyptians Hit by Rising Food Prices http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/7288196.stm

Stifled, Egypt's Young Turn to Islamic Fervor http://www.nytimes.com/2008/02/17/world/middleeast/17youth.html?scp=1&sq=Egypt+and+Marriage&st=nyt

Pretty intense, right? Before you get nervous or worried for my sake, it's amazing and somewhat tragic what a different world I live in for my part of Egypt. Aside from the I-mostly-just-hang-out-with-other-American-study-abroad-kids bubble, AUC is also a world unto itself, catering to (generally) the richest 2% of the Egyptian population, the population that lives in villas on the outskirts of Cairo's congestion.

The American University in Cairo was founded in 1919 as an independent university (i.e., not related to the other "American Universities," in DC and elsewhere), and today has academic statistics and accreditations not unlike those of universities in the United States. 81% or so of the student body is Egyptian, and the rest of us are a motley group of Americans, Europeans, Asians, and non-Egyptian Middle Easterners. AUC's culture is a strong reflection of the socio-economic demographic. One of the three AUC campuses hosts what is known locally as "Gucchi Gulch," the hang-out spot for the cool Egyptian students--you can't join unless you are wearing not only the latest, but the most expensive, from top designers (this goes for men and women). I didn't, in fact, meet as many girls in the US wearing skinny jeans, leggings, and ballet flats as I have here (granted, I've been away from GW for awhile). The first time I saw an iPhone was here.

Perhaps the one thing that intrigues/frightens us international students (and some Egyptian students) most about AUC is how similar it is to high school. Gucchi Gulch is a clique, as are the dozens of other groups that sit around campus on stairs, pathways, and other generally inconvenient places. We Americans tend to just be the awkward, neurotic kids that scurry along the fringes, actually going to our classes. (By the way, the only place that can top an American university in the number of smokers is a foreign university, Egyptian ones included.) Many of the Egyptian students still live at home, so the dorms, while hosting some locals, are mainly a mix of international kids. Though I spend very little time at the dorm (thanks to my apartment), it is a pretty interesting experience. The men's and women's sides of the dorms are sharply segregated. In order to enter the men's side of the building, you must be escorted with a guard, and, in order for a man to enter the women's side, for any reason, a female guard must shout "MAN THE FLOOR!" This is understandable, because many of the students wear hijab, the headscarf, and want warning or at least time to shut their doors before the man comes down the hall. The dorms have a very strict no-alcohol policy (which some 21 year-olds are chafing under), as well as communal bathrooms. Did I ever mention how glad I was to have an apartment?

Each morning, I wake up in my queen-size bed in my own bedroom, stretch, and grab the shower. I have the most strangely decorated bedroom, all cream and gold with mirrors on every single closet door and on the headboard, with another massive mirror on the wall. It’s like Louis XIV/Rococo gone awry. It’s comfortable, though, and it’s helpful to notice when my clothes are excessively wrinkled (though I don’t often do anything about it).

I catch the 7:30 shuttle down to campus to make Arabic at 8:00. The little walk from the apartment to the dorm is pleasant. There are a lot of private schools in Zamalek, including two art schools, the Pakistani International School, and a daycare on my route. So, I pass students in smocks holding canvases and little kids jumping off buses. I’ve made friends with several of the old men who keep watch along my route. One of them works for the Pakistani School, and always greets me with a huge smile and a “Hello!” “Good?” “Good?” before giving a small bow. The other sits literally all day long outside of a non-descript old mansion. “Sabah al-kheir,” I say (“Good morning”), to which I receive a pleasant “Sabah al-noor” (“Morning of enlightenment,” the traditional response to “Good morning”), accompanied by a tip of the hand to the head and then to the heart. It’s a great way to start the day, even if I’ve not finished any or all of my Arabic homework for the upcoming class. The past few weeks, with the weather change, were an especially fun walk, since the leaves were counter-intuitively falling from some of the trees. They were great for shuffling feet and crunching, but the street crews were sadly effective in picking up most of them.

Delightful crunchy leaves at 7:20 am, in the Spring! (Egyptians always double-park their cars, by the way)

In case you were curious, I decided to continue my omnivorous habits here in Cairo. It would have been much easier to be vegetarian here, with no homestay family, but I decided I had to try the highly recommended stuffed pigeon, as well as not be a pain on everyone else while travelling. Ironically, though, the best Egyptian food is vegetarian (on the surface at least), and the stuffed pigeon was really over-hyped. So, in case you are visiting Egypt yourselves, some of the street food to keep an eye out for and eat includes the following: Fool-fool, or fuul, is mashed fava or white beans, or lentils, mixed with some onions and spices and pureed (like extra-mushy refried beans). It is often eaten in conjunction with "tamayya" in pita pockets. Tamayya-falafel, they have to be difficult here in Egypt and call it by a different name, but, street food by any other name is just as tasty, right? 'Aish (beladi)-'aish is the Egyptian colloquial term for bread (symbolically, "'aish" means life), and "'aish beladi" is "national bread." Though this may be considered blasphemous by true Egyptian bread experts, I can't really tell the difference between it and plain old pita bread. It's a little bit chewier, and has a pretty standard size, but it all tastes similar. Actually, the differences in flat breads here are pretty similar to the differences between tortillas in different parts of Mexico: size (Iraqi flatbread is enormous), color, chewiness, etc. All I know is that the bread is nothing like that in Morocco, big, round chunky loaves of leavened bread, mmmmm. The rising bread prices that partially casued the failed strike are for 'Aish beladi, by the way. Koshari-along the theme of carbohydrates, koshari is really just about every carb you can boil placed into one big bowl and covered with spicy tomato sauce. It has rice, browned vermicelli noodles, chickpeas, lentils, more noodles, and is topped off with fried onions. I wasn't a big fan at first, surprisingly, but I just hadn't found the right koshari stand. Now I've become a disciple, especially when they splash the hot sauce on top, yum! Shawarma-no, not exactly of Egyptian origin, but it's certainly been adopted. Shawarma is either chicken or lamb marinated, skewered, topped with vegetables, and turned in front of a flame for hours. It is then shaved off into French loaf sandwiches, or sometimes into pita. You can get a million sides to go with it, tahina sauce, hummus, tzatziki, grilled eggplant, French fries... Fateer-Mmmm, my favorite street food, and, conveniently, the most unhealthy. Fateer is a buttery flaky fry bread almost exactly like the "rghif" fry bread in Morocco. It is made by taking a piece of pizza-like dough and stretching and stretching it until it is paper thin and then folding it back up (to make it flaky), and baking it. It can be filled first with anything from cheese and meat to bananas and sugar, or it can also be topped with pizza toppings or sugar or honey. There's a place just outside a campus gate that sells sugar-stuffed fateers for about 15 cents each...you'd be proud of my resolve.

If we decide against street food for the day, however, there are plenty of other options around. Within less than a block of campus we have the Costa's, Beano's, Pottery Cafe, and slightly-less-upscale Bon Appetit, all little coffee/lunch shops with wireless internet. Should we decide against those options, we also have the KFC, McDonald's, Hardee's and Pizza Hut directly across from the main entrance to AUC (so appropriate). We even had a Sbarro's, but it mysteriously disappeared, really, a couple of weeks ago. We also have two cafeterias and a revolving food stand with local businesses setting up shops for a week or two. Needless to say, we're all more than happily fed and I can complain of no real cravings (except good Mexican or Tex-Mex). Once you reach Zamalek, the options become even more outrageous. We have Thai, Chinese, and Barbecue within 4 blocks. We also have "Maison Thomas," the best pizza in Egypt (and one of the only places in Cairo where you can order non-Halal pork-even though my former vegetarian self revolts at the idea of eating pork)--they deliver for free. Life is sooo good, if not healthy...

Also, another fixure of Egypt is literally only a block away:

Yep, the Harley store. Only a block away from home...so very Egyptian.

Everything that I described above is going to change rapidly in just a few months for the next AUC students. The University is moving out to an enormous campus in the reclaimed desert suburb of Heliopolis. The campus will be state of the art and spacious and undoubtedly raise AUC's prestige, but at what cost? The loss of one of the most vibrant locations in Cairo. Oh, and this is all being done at American taxpayers expense (thanks, guys!). Everything here, from the library screeners, to the bathroom hand dryers to the builidngs themselves are stamped with USAID, a "Gift from the American People." Sweet of us, huh? Actually, in case you didn't know, Egypt is the second largest American aid recipient after Israel (and a lot of it probably goes here). Anyway, I am so happy to have this last semester here at the old campus, because it feels so much more a part of Cairo. I step outside and I'm Downtown. It's kinda like GW in that respect.

So, something that I've discovered in myself and in a lot of other AUC study abroad students is a sense of disaffection and disconnection to the study abroad experience right now. I've been told that there is a cyclical effect to culture shock if you stay in a place long enough; when you first arrive, then around 3 months or so, and then around 6 months, each time being only temporary, but completely normal. We more or less collectively seem to be "crashing" as one of my friends put it. It's difficult because right now my feelings and goals are neither here nor there. I don't feel the same zeal toward Egypt that I did in the beginning, but I'm not ready to return to St. Louis or Washington DC just yet, either. It's a dangerous sort of apathy that's led me for the last few weeks to see the world somewhat colorlessly. I think it will soon be remedied, however, because 1) if it's cyclical as they say, it's gotta cycle back around sometime, and 2) we're leaving in just a few days for Spring Break!

I hope to get one more post aside from this one written before Spring Break, but in case I don't, our itinerary, very, very briefly, is Jordan, Syria, and Turkey! I will be sure to update you thoroughly upon our return (hopefully with a lot of pictures). Hope you are all well, and thanks for reading!