Hoping for weather

Morning came with a silent rustle of leaves and little raindrops painting dark dots on the concrete. The clouds were gray and heavy, and for a little while my inner child even hoped for thunder. Or some sort of weather in general. Cairo doesn't really do weather. Temperatures fall and rise, the sun is occasionally paused by the flickering of clouds. But that's it. And today didn't do much to chance that. A few hours after the little drops of water the city was clinging to my skin again. Cairo does that - it covers everything, everywhere. Dust and sweat mix and stick to your skin like a film of dirt. The few raindrops that fall feel soothing for a few seconds, until you start thinking of all the smog that they surely absorbed on their way down. Ah, Cairo weather. It got its own charm.

I'll miss this, I will

It's late. It's ridiculously late, if you think about the fact that I have to get up in a few hours. Read, read, write, write. The good girl-syndrome has claimed another victim, and I've got theories, papers and conjugations up to my ears. And yet, it's allright. It's actually better than that. It's great. Because as I'm lying here, cuddled up in the corner of my bed, I cannot stop thinking about how fascinating this city is. The smells, the sounds, the atmosphere.

By night, when I'm just silently observing the streets, Cairo is a wonderful city. Wait a few hours, let the sun rise, and you'll be stared at like you've got two heads, you'll be harassed like you'd be walking around naked with a sign saying "tell me something sexist!". But right now, at moments like these, I love this city. I love listening to the sounds, just being part of it all.

I've realized I'll miss Cairo.

Cairo diary: 16/17

I love Fridays in Cairo. There are no alarm clocks yelling at you to get up, and there is no need to rush to the university in the morning. The city's in a mode of its own on Fridays, with people rolling out mats in some of the streets, preparing for the prayer later in the day. As you wake up, you take a shower, make some tea and open the balcony doors to welcome the sun. Then, as you hang up your laundry outside, you catch the eye of the woman on the other side of the street, and for a little while you are the same, just doing your Friday thing. The street is like a little parade of colorful shirts, skirt and linens swaying in the wind, and for that little while before the Cairo dust settles into your things, it all smells so clean, so nice. 

The sun's shining, the people's talking and it's just another wonderful Friday.

Cairo diary: 14/17

Spring break is getting closer by the second. And so is the desperate need for a break. The books seems to get duller by the day, the articles more complicated. The library seems noisier and the classes longer. And, as a result of this, the approaches to learning tend to become stranger and stranger. Today we hit a new high, or low - depending if the one who's judging is myself or my professor. 

This is what we look like in a Oreo and chocolate-provoked learning frenzy. We're charming. And we are without a doubt building up a really good image among the Egyptian students. "Use your head", they told me when I was younger. Well, now I've got scientific proof: that stuff doesn't work a bit better than reading.

Cairo diary: 12/17

Our apartment has three balconies. Three little platforms where we can enjoy a daily dose of sun, without being stared at like we’ve got three heads or some other abnormity. When the sun is at its highest, we grab a pillow from the couch, make some sweet tea and migrate out into the light for a little while. You see, Egypt’s not as inhumanly hot as people tend to believe. From time to time, it’s actually downright chilly. In the nights, you lie there, like a little shivering ball under a pile of blankets, and that desert heat you've heard about seems like a story from another planet.

But then, then comes those little moments when you find your balcony bathed in sun, and you just sit there, squinting into the air, slowly sipping at your tea. After a while, a feeling of peace might find you, as you lean back onto the dusty wall and sigh. Peace. Until you stand up, and catch the eye of one of the men down at the street, that appear to just hang out down there, staring at your balcony. But hey, this Egypt. That's life.

Cairo diary: 11/17

Today I jumped out of bed at 5.45, as I had a dream where someone strictly told me that "real feminists get up early in the morning!". Why that had to be 15 minutes before my alarm usually goes off, I don't know. I do a lot of odd things when my dreams wake me. Once, my boyfriend entered the kitchen one early morning, only to find me angrily doing the dishes at 7 in the morning. To this date, I cannot explain why I was so angry at those plates. Must have been a real nightmare.

What I intended to say with this post however, was not that I do strange things them I am tired, a state I find myself in 70% of my semi-awake life. In fact, I just wanted to say that Cairo was beautiful today. I had a great day. My classes turned out to be really fun, and the week ahead looks like one of the particularly good ones. And it all started with a dream about feminists around 5.45 in the morning.

Cairo diary: 10/17

It strange how fast you can get used to living in a completely new environment. A new country, a new city; new smells and new sounds. Suddenly the alien is comfortingly familiar, and one day, you feel at home. The picture above shows my room here in Cairo - a room that's become my safe zone when the streets are too noisy and the books to academic. The walls are painted in a various selection of mint-inspired colors, and my bed looks like someone cut out the bedroom-section from a magazine in the 90s. A cheap 90s-magazine. Out on the streets I always hear the kids on the block laugh or sing, and every two hours there's someone shouting for a guy named Amr. Apparently, Amr is always lost. And always very, very popular.

This is where I live. And right now, this is home. It feels like home. 

Cairo diary: 8/17

Sunshine's been hugging Cairo like it's been reunited for the first in a long time. And that's sort of how it is. Lately the city's been changing between sunlight bursting out of the sky, to days that made Norway appear tempting again. (Don't take me too seriously on that point, I've been running away from the Norwegian winter for several years now.) But today, today the sky was blue, the trees seemed greener and life in general seemed.. great.

After jumping around in my classroom, repeating "professor, professor, I love the sun, please!", I managed to persuade my wonderful, wonderful Arabic teacher to move the class out of the building and into the sun. And let me tell you this - I think I'm a better learner when I'm outside of the constricting walls of the university. Might be the vitamin Ds, might be the temperature. Or it just might be the fact that I came directly from a mid-term where I just breezed through the pillars of Islam and the collection of the Qur'an. You know what's even better? Tomorrow's Friday - time for the Egyptian weekend!

Cairo diary: 7/17

You take the bus across the city - traffic jam, like every day in Cairo. Your head is pounding, stomach rumbling and at one point you could swear there was something odd with your heartbeat. As you walk towards your apartment, some guys mutter obscenities your way, eyeing you from your shoes and up a few times. Your backpack hits the floor like a bag of rubble when you get home - two seconds after you realize that your computer was in that bag. Grunting, you go to make some tea. And then, then a voice calls from the living room. "There's something for you in the fridge!"

And you know what? It was cake! On the most cake-deprived, sugar-needy day in Egypt. This is why people never should live alone. They don't get carrot cake.

Cairo diary: 6/17

Mid-terms tomorrow. Not one, that would've been too easy. But two. And a little Arabic dictation sprinkled on top. At least I have the technology on my side - digital flashcards! I'm brilliant! (If the animation makes you dizzy, keep in mind that I've been glaring at these words all day. All. Day.)

I'll go back to my verbs now. And conjugate them like a boss.

Cairo diary: 4/17

Cairo's like a teenager when it comes to going to bed and waking up. It's noisy when everyone else tries to sleep, but awfully silent in the early mornings. Which is a rather comfortable trait for those of us who have to walk a bit in the early mornings. The birds are chirping, the cats are tearing up the trash, and the few men who are awake are usually just sitting on a chair, squinting and the sun while nipping at their sweet tea. Silent, calm and allright.

Cairo diary: 3/17

Sitting in a cafe in Cairo, the melody of an oud is on the speakers in the background and the walls covered in black and white photos of the earlier days of Egypt. A couple of women behind me are ordering food in Arabic, asking for two cups of coffee, some water and il-cupcake, please. The guy next to me is one the phone, talking in Arabic as well. The conversation ends with I love you. Later alligator, insha'allah. Hey there globalization, I think to myself and return to my readings.

Cairo diary 2/17

Drinking Egyptian red wine from our old tea cups, talking about school, the world and life in general. Chinese take-out on the table and laughter out in the street. And it's all good.

Cairo diary 1/17

I've decided to give myself a little challenge, in order to not forget blogging as I'm running around in Cairo. I don't want to overdo it though. Therefore, I've decided to try to post one picture each of the remaining days this month, using whatever camera I find. Like a little photo dairy that'll be nice to look back on when I'm back in the lush woods of Scandinavia. So, what am I up to today, in this dynamic country of revolution and change, this land of ancient history and pharaohs? Homework. Good thing I know how to say "I live in the library" in Arabic.

A motivating Arabic plague

I start every day with Arabic class; each and every morning is saluted at 8.30 with Arabic stuttering and a cup of coffee black as a Norwegian winter. I'm not good at it, it's not going fast, but it's okay. In addition to the morning class, which focuses on Egyptian spoken dialect (which I'm awful at), I also take a class in modern standard Arabic. The formal stuff. Which I love! I have the most amazing, supporting and motivating professor, and her enthusiasm is contagious like a plague. A happy, motivated, Arabic plague of conjugations and pronouns, plurals and shaky handwriting.

The week that disappeared

Spices for sale, close to The al-Azhar Mosque. I didn't buy anything, but stood there for a while, mesmerized by the colors and the smells.

The streets in the older parts of Cairo are absolutely beautiful, with old buildings and mosques at your left and right. Feels like you've traveled back in time.

One of the few fruits I know how to talk about in Arabic - bananas and oranges! ("Maoz" and "borto'an".)

These young girls approached me, and wondered if I could take a picture of them. I agreed, and as I told them they looked beautiful in Arabic, they giggled as they walked away.

The previous week has gone by without me even noticing. Arabic homework, a fantastic birthday party, a trip to Alexandria (greeted by all the wind and waves the Mediterranean Sea could conjure in honor of our visit.) And poof - the week was over. "Busy" doesn't quite sum up my day, but it's a good start. As a result of this, I'll just treat you with a bunch of pictures from the last week. Fantastic!

Recovery, strawberries and little bit of wine

Last weekend, I recall  coming home to my own apartment as Cairo was waking up to a new day. Long nights with wine, discussions and music are downright wonderful, but they do take their toll on you. So, this weekend I'm all about recuperating my tired and sick body, giving it patience, love and a lot of good food. As a result of this decision, this night has been awfully relaxed - and awfully good.

After a good dinner at our usual place (one month in Cairo, and we have "a usual place", that's kind of cute), we bought some wine, some cheesecake and went home. To our apartment. We lit candles, slouched on the couch, put on some good music and read all the books and articles that might be appealing. And ah, if there ever was a thing my body needed, it was this. Cheap Egyptian wine, a chapter about the pillars of Islam and a little basket of strawberries. The usual recipe for relaxation, you know.

Hectic tick tock

Compared to my previous university, student life in Cairo offers quite a different beat and rhythm. The readings are longer, the classes more frequent and the days more hectic. The grasp of the Egyptian winter is still squeezing on Cairo as well, so in the end it's not a surprise that my body decided that a little break would be very much welcome. And when my body wants a break, it simply takes one.

So, after a night of fever and shivers, there was just not a single cell in my body that was eager to attend the Arabic morning class that I start most days with. Somewhat dizzy in my haze of paracetamol and coughing, I decided to check out the medical center of AUC. And man, welcome to the services of a private university. Within an hour, I'd been examined, handed a bag of medications in all kinds of bottles and pills, and found myself on a bus back to my part of Cairo. The security guards at the entrance did not support my plan to take a taxi across the Egyptian capital - "oh, not safe madam, please not" - so after a few minutes of jogging around, they found me a bus. Yes, I got my own bus, just me and my smiling driver.

And now, now I'm just sitting here, as a ball of blankets, pills and tea. Got my fingers crossed for a calm weekend, insha'allah.

Freedom

One of the words in my Arabic class today, was حرية  - freedom. My professor laughed, and tried to explain the word:

-"Horreya"! Freedom! We tried one year ago, but alas, nothing. Suppression, suppression!

And then she laughed some more, shaking her head, and continuing the class. Outbursts like these tend to pop into conversations every now and then, and I never quite know how to react - do you laugh or do you shake your head and say "better luck next time"?

It's allright to be tired

It's allright to be tired. It's okay to spend some time alone. And it's perfectly fine to light some candles, listen to some music and just let your heartbeat come down to a steady rythm. Egypt follows a Friday-Saturday weekend, which means my actual school week is over for now. Reading will continue though, that's how life goes. But for now, I'll just stay here in my bed, with wonderful music in the room and scented candles on the nightstand. Feminism and development in the post-colonized Middle-East can wait, the same goes for arabic adjectives and nouns. For now, I'll just crawl up into some blankets and listen to a good song. And it'll be just perfect.

Explosions in the Sky - First Breath After Coma