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 17/17

Today, I brought my friends to see one of my favorite places in Cairo: the part of the city referred to as "Islamic Cairo". And it was just great. Walking in the dusty and narrow streets, between crammed markets and the more relaxed ahwas (like informal cafes) where old men smoke shisha and drink tea, Cairo showed itself from its best side.

There's something timeless about Islamic Cairo; walking between the old stone walls seems to take you out of the year of 2012 and release you into a whole different atmosphere in a vastly different time. 

Students from the nearby Al-Azhar walk past you with the Qu'ran under their arm or some books tossed into a bag, and while you're munching on your falafel, some old women point at you and grin, laughing at the out-of-place girls wandering around the hidden streets of the old Cairo.The call for prayer vibrates in the air and the sun makes the colors vibrant and golden. And it's just so.. great. 

 Hey Cairo, I like you, you know that?

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: 13/17

One of the classes I'm taking at AUC is a development class.  It deals with economies. It talks about the big overarching theories of change and growth, decline and war. And it is as far away as possible from the sociology I usually study, to put it mildly. And yet, it's one of my favorite classes. I'm confused, my English tends to wither up and die during class and I'm always frowning and frantically trying to scribble down what my professor is attempting to teach me. Great, huh?

Well, today it got even better. Why? Well, we went on a field trip so visit a feminist NGO working with micro-financing and women's empowerment, in addition to visiting the offices of USAID. Due to security restrictions, were not allowed to visit the slums we had intended to, which was one of the things I'd been looking forward to, seeing as I also visited some micro-finance clients in Kenya and Sri Lanka when I was there. I was really eager to see how people in Egypt had approached that kind of assistance, but that'll just have to wait for now.

Visiting both the organizations in one day allowed us to see a lot of the contrasts that can be found within such institutions dealing with development. One invited us for tea and a chat with its micro-loan clients, while the other talked about American tax payers desire to see their money show visible results. One was located within a semi-worn concrete building in the middle of a noisy Cairo neighborhood, while the other rested like a fortress  outside of the core of the city itself. And while one dealt with development from the perspective of one woman here and one family there, the other talked about millions in financing of grand projects and visions.

Evaluating everything we talked about and learned during the day would be enough for an essay or two, so I think I'll let that rest for now, unless there's someone dying to know more. But I had a really educative day, I'll tell you that. I've seen the grass root level and I've seen the offices where the money's at. And the fact that they in theory both deal with the same thing - development - is strange, and awfully, awfully interesting.

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: 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: 9/17

Once, there was a time where I'd spend my weekends sleeping until the sun reached its highest point on the sky. And then I'd sleep some more. But alas, that was then! This morning we jumped into a taxi around eight in the morning, and headed south to the Souq El-Gomma - the Friday Market - located between old Islamic Cairo and the City of the Dead. At the crossroad of life and death in one way, but definitely alive in another. The Souq El-Gomma is hectic, to put it mildly.

If you've got a soft heart when it comes to animals, the souq might not be the place for you. There were puppies held up in the air, crates of turtles and cages with ducks and quails. They had fish, they had kittens. They had pigeons and they had snakes. And they had a lot of them. It's still an interesting walk though, just looking at the color and pulse of the crowd as you see everything from boxer shorts to computer parts. The only thing that might've killed the mood a bit, is the way we stood out in the streets, having young boys tail us around while trying to call us names in various languages. It was still great though. Great, and awfully hot.

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: 5/17

Most parts of Cairo are grey. Brown, dusty and pale. And then you have the murals at Muhammed Mahmoud St., close to Tahrir Square. Portraits honoring those who've lost their lives, utterances of hope and slogans of defiance - it's all there.  The street has seen the conflicts go down with noise and violence the previous year, and now it's like beacon of color in Downtown Cairo. Tahrir is almost empty, but the street is refusing to let it go.

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.

Birthday time!

 

I'm old! Or, well. I'm older. Yesterday was my birthday, a day filled with pyramids, red wine, the former prime minister of Norway and a speeding taxi on the highway in Cairo. Quite the combination, huh? Other than that, I'm preparing for a busy time ahead. Mid-terms are coming up, and I'm lost in a sea of development theories and Arabic, feminism and studies of Islam. 

The whole concept of mid-terms is not something I've encountered on my home university back in Norway, so I'm somewhat confused about what I'm expected to know, to do and to understand by now. But as I realized the other day, my goal this semester has sort of changed from "I'm going to do this, and I'll do it well!" to "I'm just going to do this!". Do I mind? Nah. I'm in Egypt for God's sake. Living in Cairo. That's enough for me.

The best of weekends - a little preview

At the moment I'm sitting in the library of my university in Cairo, buried under a pile of Arabic words I don't understand, and messy notes on my underdeveloped vocabulary. This exhausting mess of books and papers is not even closely related to how I spent my weekend though. Not. At. All. I'll elaborate some more in a while, but for now, I'll just share one picture as a little preview:

Not too shabby, right?

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!

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"?

A quiet voice in my ear

Last night, eager to get home from a long day amongst the library walls, I took the bus home to Zamalek. The clock was around eight, so the sun had set and nighttime embraced Cairo. Then, as I huddled up in my scarf and headed towards my apartment, a young man snuck up behind me, mumbled to my right shoulder and took off. “Fuck you”, a quiet voice sounded next to my ear. “Fuck you”.

Before I had the time to come up with a sharp answer in Arabic, I was alone again. And it’s not uncommon to have things like this happen to you; no matter how conservative my outfit may be, no matter how much I focus my eyes into the distance or onto the dusty ground. A part of me whispers "accept the culture, accept the rules, relax, resign" - ethnocentrism isn't all that appealing after all. And then there is the part of me that shouts "culture is not something permanent, something cut in stone; it's something dynamic, a part of the world that includes and excludes new signs, habits and norms as the time floats by".

Episodes like this doesn't make me want to pack my stuff and go home though. It makes me want to put my chin out and walk some more. These streets are just as much property of the women, as they are for the men. Having old men purr at you when you walk by can be demotivating in exploring a new city. Me? I just grow more defiant.

The pyramids of Sakkara

After almost a month in Egypt, I finally took the time to see a pyramid. It is simply one of those things I feel is mandatory when living in this country, and at least if one is located in the chaotic capital of Cairo. As the strike and all the commotion around the weekend suddenly left us with empty schedules and a few extra days on our hands, we headed south from Cairo, and to the old burial grounds of Sakkara (Saqqara/سقارة)‎.

It is not at all at grand as I imagine the pyramids of Giza will be, but then again, extravaganza and awe isn't always what we're aiming for, is it? The step pyramid of the old pharaoh Djoser is one of the oldest buildings in the world, and even predates the pyramids of Giza. In its glory days of ancient Egypt, the pyramid reached about 62 meters above the ground, but I believe that the teeth of time and sandstorms have done some to those numbers.

"They don't look like much", you might say. It's not all about what your eyes perceive though. These grounds have seen humans come and go for more than 4600 years. Think about all the different kinds of people that have walked in this sand, all the life and death that these stones has witnessed. Imagine that there was a civilization here, that had the means and imagination to build constructions that still would stand, after several millennia. And then try to tell me its not impressive.