Out and About
(I took some pictures off Nadia's camera, so I'm back-posting a few things.)

Here I am doing my part for Egyptian tourism.


Out for dinner (I have an unusual number of pictures of people eating since coming here...).


Nick and me near Al-Azhar mosque.


















The souk decorated for the Prophet's Birthday.

Dahab

Yes, I am fine!

I spent the past four days or so in Dahab, but we left several hours before the bombs went off. I heard the news from the bus while somewhere in the middle of the desert. It is horrific.

Several place in Sinai (Sharm and Taba) have been hit by terrorist attacks in past years, but most still consider it "safe" to vacation there. Dahab is a fairly small town, visited more by backpackers than those wanting to go to a resort. Nearly everything is located along the boardwalk, including the sites of the explosions. I took this picture yesterday afternoon; to the left, just out of view, is a restaurant that no longer exists and behind where I am standing is a grocery store that no longer exists. All the news isn't in yet, but early accounts are suggesting 20-30 dead. Full story here.

It is strange to go through this experience again--the emotions are the same as when I was in Israel, but the perspective is different. You feel grateful to be alive, angry at the attackers, concerned for your friends, and devastated for those who lost their lives. But in Israel/Palestine, each side knows its opposition and it's pretty clear that each side perpetrates crimes against the other. [I am not condoning either--I was afraid for my life while living in Israel, but I recognize the helplessness and desperation felt by Palestinians at having their land occupied and their lives upturned.] In Dahab, it's neither clear who is carrying out the attacks, nor is their target precise. It is a more generalized form of terror, closer to 9/11 or the Madrid or London bombings. And there is nowhere to go to escape it.

Artistic Cairo

Lest you think Cairo is all dust and donkeys, I'm posting some pictures of Cairo's cultural side. Over the past few weeks, I've been to a hip hop show, a gallery opening, a concert of classical Arab music, and a Sufi dance performance. (And I tried to go film screening of shorts on life in Cairo, but stayed too long at the bar beforehand and missed all the movies...)

To my surprise, the hip hop artist was pretty good--although he performed entirely in Arabic, so I don't actually know what he was saying. Also, it was probably the only show I've been to in which the drink selection consisted of tea and coffee.

There's a neat art gallery downtown that changes out its work every few months. I went to see the opening of a photo exhibit on Ashoura (Shi'a holy day
commemorating the murder of Muhammad's grandson at Karbala). It is a day of mourning, parades and pilgrimages and, in some places, fairly violent self-flagellation (knives, chains, etc.)--which is what was depicted in the exhibit. The photos themselves were amazing, though not exactly the kind of art you'd want hanging in your living room.

The Sufi performance had wonderful drumming and, of course, a lot of whirling. Seeing as this is traditionally a spiritual exercise, I thought it might be a bit voyeuristic to watch such a performance, but (for better or worse) it didn't feel that way. The dancers were true to their art and it was breathtaking, albeit dizzying, to watch.

On Sunday, I also went to see a performance of classical Arabic music, which was quite a different experience than going to the symphony at home. The melodies are different and the instruments also include an oud (fat guitar), a qanun (something like a zither), and various bamboo flutes. [The picture above is entitled either "Not the NSO" or "Big Man, Small Instrument; Small Man, Big Instrument."]

D-Day and Daily Life...

Yesterday was Decision Day. The past couple weeks have been building up to this with much anxiety, flip-flopping, and emailing. To the surprise of many, myself included, I have chosen to attend Harvard Divinity School in the fall. From the outset of this process, I was set on Chicago, but as I began to consider myself in each of these two places, Harvard seemed like the right choice. This means turning down the most prestigious Div School in the country, as well as financial aid, the prospect of a relatively easy transition to a PhD program (Chicago keeps many of its MA students on for PhDs; Harvard does not), and a more intimate program size. On the other hand, Harvard's resources and faculty in my field are unmatched, and this is ultimately what won out. I'm also excited to live in Boston, as well as spend more time with the Mass. fam. (And not all together sad to be turning down the city of larger bus seats and smaller backpacks [Meg!].)

Making this decision from halfway around the world has been a surreal experience and I suspect that it won't feel real until I arrive back in the States. Nonetheless, I'm relieved to have it sorted out and looking forward to the future.

Despite my preoccupation with all of this, daily life in Cairo continues. Classes resumed at the beginning of the month and I am now studying both Egyptian Colloquial (amaya) and Modern Standard Arabic (fusha). The amaya is great; the fusha is difficult, but more important for me in the long run. I feel as though I'm learning a lot, but it's clear that it will take years of study to be competent. My flat has changed around this month and there is now a Brit, a Swiss, and an Italian joining my Swedish friend and me. They are all a lot of fun.

I went for my 1st run outside this week! There's a fancy sporting club nearby that draws the richest of the rich in Cairo for swimming, soccer, horseback-riding, etc.--but for about 25 cents, one can enter around the back and go for a run on the bridal path, which is about 2km around. My British flatmate runs there a lot and I joined him one morning around 7am (the early hour required because of the heat and the fact that I wanted to wear shorts and thus needed to avoid the crowds). I was heckled by some small boys, but it was otherwise a thoroughly enjoyable run.

Time for homework, but stay tuned for more on Cultural Cairo in the next post...

Haircut Pic

This isn't the best picture to show off the new do, but the harassment from mom/aunties has led me to post it anyway. (I can't figure out why it's so big; it wasn't this way on my camera. Oh well, it's life-size-Emily.)

Egyptian Hairdressers, Feluccas, and Time with Dad

As you can see from the subject, I have a lot of ground to cover... I'll start with the topic of greatest interest (at least to the maternal fam): I got my hair cut this week. It was a strange but pleasant experience. I went to a really fancy (Egyptian fancy) salon and spa, replete with a doorman, elevator man, and various floors for the different services. Despite the separate floors for women and men, all of the staff on the women's floor were men. The guy who cut my hair was very friendly, but spoke limited English. Unfortunately, my Arabic vocabulary does not yet include words like "trim," "layers," or "bangs." After finding someone to interpret, he got to work on what was maybe my longest haircut ever. In the end, it turned out pretty well (pic forthcoming).

This is one of several times I've had my hair cut in a foreign country without command of the language and, yes, it is nerve-wracking. Nonetheless, as long as one isn't too vain, I highly recommend it; it's one of those small ways to gain real cultural insight. [Right up there with visiting aquariums...]

TRAVEL W/DAD: My dad took a break from retirement to come visit me. We spent 10 days hanging out and touring Egypt. It was a blast. I booked him at the Marriott in Cairo, which was built originally as a palace for the celebrations around the opening of the Suez Canal in 1869. We did the usual Cairo sightseeing during out first few days--Giza pyramids and the Egyptian Museum.

The pyramids are an incredible, awe-inspiring sight... but that's about it. There's no real element of design or architecture, beyond their immense size. They were built during the Old Kingdom, approximately 2500 BCE. All of the treasure within was looted many years ago and what little remains has been spread out in museums across the world. The Egyptian Museum is similarly fantastic in terms of size; it's also extremely difficult to navigate. We went with a guide, which helped to put it in context, but we were still looking at about 5,000 years worth of artifacts. The mummies were really neat--they made the preservation of Mao's body look like nothing. The Ancient Egyptians were also into mummifying various animals and household pets, including everything from crocodiles to cats and dogs. Strange.

We also took a day trip to Alexandria. It's only 2.5 hours by train... and it's a bit shorter than that if you get off at the wrong station as we did. However, this was not immediately clear to us, so we spent some time staring cluelessly at a map and trying to dead-reckon our location. After concluding that the sun does in fact rise in the east, we hopped on a tram and made our way into town. The city itself is beautiful, much of it built in the style of its 19th century colonial rulers. We wandered along the corniche to the Citadel and back again; we walked through town and eventually to the Biblotheca Alexandrina. Unfortunately, it's not the original, but instead a modern resurrection and architecturally quite amazing.

The next night we took the overnight train south from Cairo to Upper Egypt... a seeming non sequitur, but the Nile flows north and the geography has been named accordingly. My father loves to travel by train, but I don't think either of us envisioned the experience quite this way; the train itself was reminiscent of something out of the Soviet Union, c. 1950. We woke up in Luxor and, after a brief stop at our cruise ship, had a full day of touring there, including the Valley of the Kings and Queens, Karnak Temple, and Luxor Temple. The pic above is of my dad (um, does he look like a tourist?) at Karnak Temple. We spent the following day cruising to along the Nile toward the locks at Esna. We joined about 30 other cruise ships there, each waiting for its turn to go through the locks. The process took the better part of the day and night, but the weather was beautiful and, fortunately, the shops came to us--since the cruise ships don't dock here anymore, the guys selling assorted souvenirs gotten into the entrepreneurial spirit and now row out to meet the ships. They do business by tossing up the t-shirts, fabrics, and other kitch to the passengers on deck; merchants and tourists then shout back and forth to establish a price, sometimes tossing the item in question back and forth. It's worth noting that the guys are throwing straight up about 30 ft. and are absolutely dead on. Quite entertaining. [Picture above shows this taking place on a neighboring boat.]

The rest of our cruise consisted of ruins and more ruins as we made our way down to Aswan. The temples/tombs are all beautiful, meaningful, etc., but after a while they begin to look the same... and we definitely hit saturation. There's an enormous dam Aswan that prevents the Nile from flooding, but submerged most of the surrounding community, including the homes of hundreds of thousands of Nubians. We also saw the Temple of Philae, which was moved and reconstructed on another site to accommodate the higher waters.

After a day wandering Aswan, we took another night train back to Cairo. We did some shopping, continued to eat well, and visited a few mosques in Islamic Cairo. The trip ended much too soon, but was a great success. Turns out we make pretty good travel companions.

FELUCCAS: (A felucca is a smallish sail boat, similar to a sloop or dhow.) It's a wonderful way to see the Nile, but for this pleasure one must endure the solicitations of dozens of touts along the corniche in Aswan determined to sell you on a ride. The conversations are invariably the same and go something like this--

Felucca guy: Hey mister, madame! You want felucca ride? Felucca very nice, I make you good price.
Dad and/or me: No, thank you. La, shukran.
Felucca guy: Where you from?
At this point, I continue walking while my dad, who turns out to be really pleasant in this sort of situation, continues the conversation.
Dad: We're from America.
Felucca guy: Ahhhh, Amreka! Amreka very good. I make for you special price felucca.
Dad: No, thank you. Have a good afternoon.
The felucca guy then usually repeats some combination of the above; my father continues to wish him well and eventually is able to extricate himself.

About the 34th time this happens, whatever small amount of patience I had for this charade has disappeared...
Felucca guy: Hey mister, madame! You want felucca ride?
Me (not pausing to slow down; probably wearing my don't-mess-with-me face): No, we don't.
Felucca guy: Mister, why she look so mean? Why she not happy? Felucca very good. She be happy on felucca.

Oh poor felucca guy...