Last night was the easiest and most pleasant of my arrivals at Cairo International Airport. The combination of knowing the system, arriving at the most modern terminal, having my bags be among the first to roll out onto the carousel, and having two great friends waiting on the other side of customs to pick me up made returning a whole lot easier and more fun.
I flew EgyptAir which, while not the most glamorous airline, managed to accomodate me with a vegetarian meal. Their in-flight magazine, Horus, was distinctly Egyptian, obsessively providing titles with every name mentioned-CEO Pilot such and such, etc. And then, there was the laughably bombastic article by Zahi Hawass, general secretary of the Supreme Council of Antiquities who spent pages name-dropping, talking about palling around with Obama, and then reliving in detail his personal battle against an Exxon-Mobil exec. So the literature wasn't inspiration, the cabin wasn't especially luxurious nor was the service exceptionally attentive, but the view out my window as we made our final descent was magical. The green lights of the mosques and minarets twinkled brightly within the otherwise orangey-yellow glow of the city whose contours were shaped by the complete darkness of the desert.
From the airport, Marise and Phil spirited me off to the Trianon on the Nile Dragon riverboat where the French music and tasty food at our Nileside table eased even more my transition from Europe back to Egypt. It being Ramadan and me being a glutton, I ordered an entire konafa, having a piece there and bringing the rest of it back home.
Speaking of home, my apartment has a new shine. During my absence, my friend, classmate, and travel companion, Phil moved in with Cynthia and has been conscientious about getting our friend Erin's cleaning lady over. The internet, the water, and the electricity are all functioning as well as the washing machine. Most of these, at some time or another, had gone out over the summer. My AC worked last night but seems only moments ago to have broken again. At least it's not August, I suppose.
I woke up relatively early this morning after spending the early morning hours catching up with Cynthia and Phil. The reality of my being back is upon me--I already got a call from the human rights law department confirming my enrollment in one of their classes and had a little rudimentary Arabic conversation with the gas man whom I had the pleasure of paying. I have class tonight out on the new campus...from 8 - 10:30 PM. The Ramadan schedule is en rigueur for the next couple of weeks and I'm not especially keen on it. Ma3lesh. I'm sure Palestinian Refugee Issues will be a great course. It's with the same professor I had for International Refugee Law and Comparative Migration Law, both of which I thoroughly enjoyed. I don't start my fellowship duties for a while yet, so I'm not sure of my hours or the details on that.
In less egocentric news:
As the US condemns continued Israeli settlement in Palestine, the Palestinians are calling for other Arab nations to stand in solidarity with them against the illegal move. The next steps Israeli PM Netanyahu will have to be careful ones as he balances pressure from the right-wing with internal and international pushes for peace.
Meanwhile, the Egyptian government's renovations of Jewish historical sites have caused some Egyptians to reconsider the role Jews have played in Egyptian history.
Showing posts with label Konafa. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Konafa. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Monday, October 13, 2008
Lebanese Food and Looking for Zs
Refugee Law yesterday involved a discussion on American military deserters from the war in Iraq and whether or not they could could be considered refugees (a timely topic in Canada at the moment). For dinner, I persuaded classmates Cynthia, Mitchell, and Mallory to join me at Taboula, a Lebanese restaurant about a hundred yards from the Cairo Capital Club where we have class. It proved to be an excellent decision. Cynthia and I split tasty falafel (of the true Lebanese variety, none of this Egyptian ta3mayya business) with taboula and tahina enjoyed inside warm, delicious pita and spinach sambusaks.
After dinner, I met up with a friend at a café who used to work for the Red Cross but is here studying Arabic for the year. He told me about an opportunity to study Arabic next summer that I plan on looking further into.
Feel particularly exhausted, I dragged myself home and was in bed around 1:30. This, of course, is quite early for me. I was hoping to convince my body that it was ok to catch zome Zs at the time of the night, but the ol' body wasn't having any of it. Instead of hopping on the insomnia machine (my laptop), I finished Brothers Karamazov. As is the case with finishing any truly good piece of literature, it's bittersweet. It's like having to say goodbye to a traveling companion. I fell asleep sometime after the pre-dawn call to prayer, only to be awoken by the dastardly rooster. Two things kept me sane--remembering I had earplugs left over from my Lufthansa flight and making the firm decision to wake up at 10:45 the following day (now today) no matter how little sleep I'd gotten so that I might more effectively fall asleep from pure exhaustion, hopefully resetting my circadian rhythm in the process.
Well, I ended up waking up at 11:40, which is actually quite something given that my habit has become to rise at 1:30 or even 2. I fought the urge to remain in bed for the rest of eternity and set about being productive--washing dishes, writing a reflection paper on Arab and Asian migration to the Gulf states, etc.
Ross arrived home not too long ago and invited me to get koshary with him. Because koshary is impossible to refuse, I joined him in getting dinner at the koshary place two doors down where we are greeted by the same overzealous server everytime. At least this time he didn't guffaw while trying to spoonfeed Ross his first bite. Afterwards, I mentioned the pastry shop across the street looking as though it might have some appetizing treats. Wandering in, we were greeted by a friendly old man with a few teeth missing (too many honey-drenched pieces of baklava, no doubt). I was able to understand a lot of his Arabic, but Ross handled the order we placed. For the equivalent of a $1.75 each, we came away with an entire tray of different sorts of baklava and konafa-like pastries with cherries in the middle. We returned home with our delicious loot via the juice shop where I practiced reading the Arabic on the menu while Ross availed himself of the fresh fruit juice. For the edification of all, I will include a photo of the treats that are now half-gone.
News of Egypt and the Middle East:
Cairo-Alexandria Stock Exchange rises in wake of government interventions in banks
Egyptian law discriminates against Christians, causes criminal prosecution and custody issues
Lebanon versus Israeli...in a food fight
After dinner, I met up with a friend at a café who used to work for the Red Cross but is here studying Arabic for the year. He told me about an opportunity to study Arabic next summer that I plan on looking further into.
Feel particularly exhausted, I dragged myself home and was in bed around 1:30. This, of course, is quite early for me. I was hoping to convince my body that it was ok to catch zome Zs at the time of the night, but the ol' body wasn't having any of it. Instead of hopping on the insomnia machine (my laptop), I finished Brothers Karamazov. As is the case with finishing any truly good piece of literature, it's bittersweet. It's like having to say goodbye to a traveling companion. I fell asleep sometime after the pre-dawn call to prayer, only to be awoken by the dastardly rooster. Two things kept me sane--remembering I had earplugs left over from my Lufthansa flight and making the firm decision to wake up at 10:45 the following day (now today) no matter how little sleep I'd gotten so that I might more effectively fall asleep from pure exhaustion, hopefully resetting my circadian rhythm in the process.
Well, I ended up waking up at 11:40, which is actually quite something given that my habit has become to rise at 1:30 or even 2. I fought the urge to remain in bed for the rest of eternity and set about being productive--washing dishes, writing a reflection paper on Arab and Asian migration to the Gulf states, etc.
Ross arrived home not too long ago and invited me to get koshary with him. Because koshary is impossible to refuse, I joined him in getting dinner at the koshary place two doors down where we are greeted by the same overzealous server everytime. At least this time he didn't guffaw while trying to spoonfeed Ross his first bite. Afterwards, I mentioned the pastry shop across the street looking as though it might have some appetizing treats. Wandering in, we were greeted by a friendly old man with a few teeth missing (too many honey-drenched pieces of baklava, no doubt). I was able to understand a lot of his Arabic, but Ross handled the order we placed. For the equivalent of a $1.75 each, we came away with an entire tray of different sorts of baklava and konafa-like pastries with cherries in the middle. We returned home with our delicious loot via the juice shop where I practiced reading the Arabic on the menu while Ross availed himself of the fresh fruit juice. For the edification of all, I will include a photo of the treats that are now half-gone.
News of Egypt and the Middle East:
Cairo-Alexandria Stock Exchange rises in wake of government interventions in banks
Egyptian law discriminates against Christians, causes criminal prosecution and custody issues
Lebanon versus Israeli...in a food fight
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