I'm writing from New York, my last stop on this side of the Atlantic for the summer. My feelings about Egypt are a mix of eager anticipation and dread. I received an email last nights from one of my flatmates letting me know that, while I've been gone, somehow the internet, one of our AC units, our phone, and the washing machine have all gone out. The feeling in the pit of my stomach that forms when I think back on the anxiousness I had last May in part because of the landlord has done much to quell my looking forward to returning to old friends, jumping in and getting moving on my thesis work, starting my fellowship position on the new campus, and maybe traveling a bit.
What's more, AUC's website is currently down and I have no indication that my tuition has yet been waived. On top of that, I have no idea how to get my transportation arranged for. Ma3lesh! I'll have to wade through that mess when I arrive.
Thankfully this time, vis-à-vis the landlord, there's less at stake. I already have the contract signed. While I won't be there at the beginning of the month, I've suggested my flatmates refuse to pay rent since the landlord is violating the contract. Apparently he told Phil and Cyn that they somehow broke the already moribund AC and the ailing washing machine. Phil has been on the phone with the internet company ceaselessly and the landlord refuses to change carriers. Maddening!
Anyway, I'm soaking up my last bits of carefree enjoyment while in the Big Apple. I met up with a friend of my Egyptian CMRS colleague Reham's and am meant to grab lunch with the student who I sublet to this summer. If anyone has sage advice about Egyptian landlords, I'm all ears.

Meanwhile, check out how Cairenes are celebrating Ramadan, courtesy of Daily News Egypt.

In other news, the pirate-fighting fisherman have returned home to a hero's welcome in Egypt.

As the trial of alleged Hezbollah operatives got under way in Egypt with some of the accused alleging torture at the hands of the Egyptian government.

Hamas is accused of abusing prisoners in Gaza. See a clip from Al-Jazeera here.

As Egypt sets about restoring a historic Jewish temple, some speculate the move is a way to mitigate the controversy surrounding UNESCO head-hopeful, Faruq Hosni who infamously declared in parliament, "I'd burn Israeli books myself if I found any in libraries in Egypt".

The Seattle Times reviews Café Riche in downtown Cairo. In my humble opinion, much of the charm of the place waned when the Egyptian people suffered the loss of "the tolerant atmosphere of old Cairo". The service the single time I went there was, despite the utter warmth of the waiter, horrid. The food wasn't much better. The article touts it as a breakfast place and I'll have to admit I haven't tried it, but the offerings at places like Maison Thomas are comparable (scrambled eggs, bread, etc.) If you're looking for breakfast in Cairo, though, and you're hoping for something American-style, Lucille's in Ma'adi (find their breakfast menu here) is the way to go. For something more Egyptian (and much cheaper than any of the other choices), a humble bean cart or fuul and ta3mayya at to-go place are my preference.

Egypt Gets It Right

  I haven't slept much in the last twenty-four hours, but prior to my insomniac night and morning, I had planned to write this entry.  I was talking to Marise yesterday about her frustrations with so much of what's negative about the Middle East and Egypt being highlighted all the time and too little of the positive getting notice.  I think this is the trend in mainstream media in general, but it's all too often the way things work in everyday conversations.  Applying the adjective "Egyptian" to anything connotes inefficiency or a lack of sophistication or lateness far too often when in reality there is so much positive about the culture and the people.  The subtlest cultural insensitivity is often the worst.  A lot of expats feel entitled to speak so tersely about their temporary (or even long-term) home, and some times you have to uncork and complain to remain sane, but I think as I've mentioned before that it's important to disentangle one's frustrations from Egypt itself.  When we're in our own countries and something bad or vexing occurs, we're not as likely to attribute it to a nationwide phenomenon, but rather the particular people or phenomena involved.  Lately I've been trying to keep that in mind here.

  After a post-dinner game of Risk, I found myself too tired to give such an entry the proper attention, so I planned to wait until morning.  Unfortunately, I lay awake all night anxious about a meeting I was to have with my landlord, about finishing off the semester, traveling home, getting my thesis research done, etc. etc.  By the time my landlord showed up forty-five minutes early just as he'd done last time, I was in no mood to deal with him.  He did, as I'd feared, trying to snake his way into more of our money and this time, I didn't have Marise and her family around to help me out.  He left a contract, but is going to return at a later date to pick it up, signed and for the deposit.  I won't explain the whole interaction, but I was so livid and felt so beat down that I wanted nothing other to be home in that moment.  In my mind, there were no weasely landlords in America, no shabby problem-ridden apartments, in fact, nothing at all but family, friends, and relief.  This, quite obviously, is not the case.  

  After he left, I was still unable to get to sleep, so I breakfasted, showered, and slumped into a living room chair feeling victimized and angry.  I continued to feel this way all the way until I met my friends Amanda and Katie at Tahrir Square whence we headed to lunch at the French cultural center in Mounira.  Seeing friends I'd not seen in along time and walking and chatting, it finally occurred to me that the weather was absolutely perfect.  Sunny and breezy and beautiful, Egypt seemed a little less like it was conspiring to impoverish me.  I'm not becoming some kind of categorical Egypt apologist and I stopped believing long ago that it was even worth trying not to resent the problems around because it's somehow culturally insensitive, but I can say that things that used to bother me terribly don't get to me as much anymore.  I never thought that I'd adapt to the degree I have, but I am ten times less stressed out than last semester save for the landlord-centered flare-ups.  And since adapting, I've been able to appreciate even more the things that I'd already begun to like and notice other things to enjoy:

  The cohesiveness of the extended family here is impressive.  I'm sure it can be stifling at times to have to try and live up to the expectations of scores of people, but knowing that you have just as many people to help you out when you're in a bind is something that doesn't exist the same way in a lot of other places.  And furthermore, families are always willing to take other people under their wings.  Even if it's not always the help you're looking for or the way you think you'd like to be helped, there's a wellspring of good intentions and a willingness to help solve problems. There's a warmth and openness that I haven't seen in the same way too many other places.

  The positive side to all the disorder and informality and lateness is an immense flexibility.  People are willing and able to step outside a given role to assist you and to find a way around formal barriers.  It's as if everyone is in cahoots.  I'm sure some of it is disingenuous, but the kind of finagling people have done for me personally to get things squared away with AUC for example are deeply appreciated.  If there's a will, there's a way.  Unless of course Allah doesn't will it, then ma3lesh.  

  There's a kind of vibrancy in the fabric of Cairo that is also rare.  You never feel alone.  I think this must be the value placed on the family writ large.  People are always together socializing at all hours of the day.  Unlike in Europe, things don't close early.  You can run to a juice stand at 11 at night if you feel so moved or go the corner store or for koshary or to the cell phone shop long after the sun's gone down.  It's easy to make friends with Egyptians if you're looking to meet them.  Again, quite the foil to Europe's reserved social processes, it's easy to find yourself swept up in a sea of invitations from new friends if you make the slightest effort.  Above all, they don't want you to be lonely or feel left out.

  The combination of people you meet here is like nowhere else.  Though New York and Paris are diverse, Egypt mixes people together in different proportions.  As a nexus between the Middle East and Africa it is unlike any other place in the world.

  I count myself lucky to live here; to benefit from the warmth of the Egyptian people; to be challenged by the things I find upsetting in such a way as to be forced to examine my own values in a way I wouldn't in the West.  Every infuriating interaction or gesture of goodwill is a unique opportunity for growth that I've never have had if I hadn't come to be a part of this crazy, beautiful city.

Links:

Wall Street Journal photo journal, "In Egypt, Muslim Brotherhood plays defense"; over a dozen Brotherhood members arrested

Israeli strengthening border barriers in an effort to curb irregular migration

Egyptian-American groups urger Obama to bring up reform with Mubarak

  

Two Battles

Yesterday was quite a productive (and successful) day in a number of ways. I started off by heading to the main downtown campus to complete the process for obtaining my student visa. Leaving my passport with foreign nationals has never felt like such a relief. Ha! My next stop was the campus bookstore, where I picked up some cards and postcards in order to send correspondence to people I've neglected. After this, I hopped over to the Greek campus where a letter from my grandma was waiting for me. Getting mail is always nice, especially when it arrives in one piece and unopened; my mom is sending me a package and I'm not holding my breath for its final integrity upon arrival. Back at home, I polished up my midterm and began a reflection paper before classtime rolled around.
After three hours of nervous fidgeting in class, wondering how the election was going, my classmates Phil, Erin, Brandy, Mary-Anne, and I headed to Zamalek, first for Cairo's best pizza at Maison Thomas, then to a professor's apartment to watch the battle for the presidency unfold. Meanwhile, back in my apartment building, something equally dramatic was taking place. The attempted eviction of my Danish neighbor, which had raised the hackles of her American flatmate, Catherine, turned into a full-blown and mildly violent event involving lawyers and police. In fact, after some physical altercations, the inhabitants of apartment 8, my landlord, and the rest of those present ended up at the nearest police station. My histrionic landlord apparently was shrieking wild threats at the girls across the hall, reminding them that his uncle who lives upstairs worked for the Interior Ministry (think intelligence, national security, immigration), that he was an auspicious doctor and Catherine just a lowly novice lawyer who, because she was American, did not have the advantage legally. His upperhand proved non-existant as Catherine managed to get a restraining order on him, a promise he would return her deposit, and final month in the apartment before she has to move out. Craziness.
Compared to this, the other battle going on between Senators Obama and McCain seemed far more tame. I was glad to have been in Zamalek watching CNN International with other Obama-supporters (as I've said, McCain supporters are few and far between here), a Palestianian-Australian, a Brit, an Iraqi refugee (who, incidentally is a McCain fan), aFrenchmen, etc. I returned home around 4:30 AM, staying up a while longer in hopes of seeing the results. I caved, however, and went to bed, waking up to find out that the candidate I supported was now the president-elect. Realizing the implications of this for our foreign policy (a main issue in my decision to vote for Obama) and a whole slew of other arenas was so invigorating. I did not feel the same way four years ago when I helped re-elect our current president.
Well, I could babble on a lot about all of this, but I'm meeting an old friend that I knew from Dunlap High School who happens to be in Cairo and I've just spent too much time watching the Obama victory speech and the McCain concession speech. McCain was exceptionally gracious, even if some of his supporters were not.

English lessons and a Danish evictee

I've just gotten back from a few hours of teaching English to south Sudanese students in Ain Shams–my first official class session. Ok, the just part is was only true before I was dragged across the hall to be told some shocking news and after I had three squares of dark chocolate.
Despite the reports I've heard that certain NGOs won't work with the students I'm teaching because they belong to "gangs" and are incorrigible, all of them were exceedingly polite. I'm called "teacher" rather than by my first name. This sign of respect is afforded me even though the students are essentially my peers, ranging in age from 18-30 with most in their late teens and early 20s. We covered negation in the singular and plural–including some versus any, and how to read a map and discuss where certain things are located. Someone brought up Obama, so I also briefly explained the legislative branch of American government and what senators were. Though I was nervous I'd not be able to properly convey the concepts in my lesson plans and be effective in my teaching, things went very well. One student, Tito, asked me after class if in the future I would mind giving him French lessons on the side. After all the upheaval in his life, I'm amazed at his drive and determination.
On the way there, my best efforts to look calm, collected, and disinterested with my iPod playing and my distant stare not inviting "welcome to Egypt"esque remarks were all thwarted when I got my fore-arm stuck in the closing metro doors which, for some reason, had not opened all the way in the first place. It wasn't particularly painful, and my fellow passengers were quick to help me extricate my limb from the door. I shook it off wedged myself into the sardine-can tightness of the train. The way back was much less congested; I even had a seat to sit in.
Upon returning, I found that I had been copied in an email from my landlord (who now seems certifiably nuts) informing everyone in both the flats on our floor that the Danish girl who lives with Catherine is being evicted tomorrow because of a contary email she sent. Up in arms, Catherine contacted an attorney at the American embassy and also looked up relevant laws in the Egyptian Civil Code, replying to Ahmed's various threats with a barrage of counter-threats and demands. The evening turned from astonishment over the events to normal conversation, affording me the opportunity to chat in French again with the Dane, her French boyfriend, and a Togolese-French girl who's just moved in. So apparently both Camilla and Catherine are moving out tomorrow. I myself wish I could find a reasonably-priced place that was a bit nicer than this with a landlord who didn't fall into the categories of flake or crook–Ahmed definitely being the former, though thankfully not much of the latter. It will be interesting to see how all this drama unfolds. It was nice to get to know my new neighbor a bit and to be told again that I had presque pas d'accent (nearly no accent) in French. Just when I get worried I'm losing my language skills from having been out of French for a year and a couple of months, something like that comes my way, and it's great.

News:
Former Sudanese president dies in Egypt
"Paradox of Power" in Egypt
Egypt to build nuclear power plant, likely with aid of US firm
Freedom of speech still not so free in Egypt says BBC
Another migrant murdered by guards at Israeli-Egyptian border

Lessors, Lessees, and Lots of Livres égyptiennes

Most of today was dedicated to signing the lease for the apartment across the hall, which Ross and I are moving into next week, insha'Allah. This has been the plan from the beginning, as both bedrooms are back away from the street in that apartment, unlike our current abode in which I sleep (when the honking subsides) streetside.
How does signing a lease take all day you ask? Well, it began when we went to an ATM to withdraw funds. I needed to get out 4-5000 LE (Livres égyptiennes, French for Egyptian pounds) and, upon trying to do so at the first location, found out that the limit was 2000 LE (about $373). It was 1500 LE at the next, 2000 LE at the following one, then two ATMs simply didn't work. Finally, we found ourselves at a hotel on the Nile that had a BNP Paribas ATM that graciously permitted me to take out 4000. Initially worried that we'd miss our landlord who said he'd come at noon, we immediately remembered that this is Egypt and that time is a much more flexible concept. Indeed our hunch was correct and he showed up two or three hours later. Once Ahmed did arrive, he had armfuls of kitchen supplies to be moved into the neighboring apartment along with us. This was a relief as the utensils and dishes are quite sparse. The landlord's a very strange, brusk, and somewhat scatterbrained man, but he doesn't seem as if he's out to get anyone. Nevertheless, I questioned him as to why my joining Ross in the apartment caused a 300 LE/month increase in rent as none of the associated rises in utilties usage could have merited this. He blustered, rambling on about something in the UK and then taxes. I politely and firmly reminded him we weren't in the UK and moved on to the question of price. He said that Ross had already agreed to pay the same price for the neighboring apartment as we were paying for this one and when we pointed out that the other didn't have a half-bath, he tried to shrug it off. In the end, negotiations were mildly fruitful. He tried to play hardball and tell us we could just stay in the apartment where we are, but I persisted and we ended up getting 100LE/month off the total. After I scrutinized the lease, crossing and editing it in duplicate, we (Ross, Ahmed, and I) all signed it. Then, he pulled out another one in Arabic, assuring us that it was merely a formality and that the one we'd just completed in English was binding. Nevertheless, Ross checked it over after we discovered half of it was in English, made some editions, and then we signed that too. He wasn't even going to give us a copy, but I requested one, so I think all is well. Though he'd been rather conversational (complaining about inflation and rising costs and how things were done in the UK), as soon as we'd signed the Arabic leases, he said goodbye and left abruptly.
Other than that, little of note happened. We dined at Felfela again and only after I came home to consult the Internet did I discover that we should be tipping people at restaurants a couple-few pounds on top of the tax and included gratuity. Who knew? I hope they don't hate us now. I also realized I've been eating fried things quite often. This should be shocking to anyone back at home who knows me. Felafel (ta'ammiyya) is so plentiful though, that it's become something of a staple in my diet. It's a task to try to figure out how to eat healthily here, but hopefully I'll strike a balance soon.
An encouraging note from my father last night and an email confirming that I could register for classes tomorrow and meet with my advisor brightened my inbox yesterday and today. All in all, things are going very well and I'm satisfied with my little Egyptian life.