Though Cairo's black cloud usually makes it look like we're on the verge of a storm here, today it actually rained. If memory serves, this is the fourth time I've been rained on in Cairo. I didn't mind the light sprinkles so much so long as I was able to keep myself from thinking about what kind of polluted tidbits were inside.
Beyond just the rain, precipitation was the order of the day, apparently: After spending the afternoon at the CMRS office, Erin and I planned to go to dinner in Zamalek. We marveled at the raindrops and crossed Mohammad Mahmoud and I flagged down one of the new white cabs. These cabs are part of "cash for clunkers"-esque push to get decades-old death traps off the road. Anyway, tell the driver our destination, he agrees, and we hop in. It took a couple of minutes for me to realize that we were in a "fake" white cab. There was no modern meter. This guy painted his old car white, put a new checkered strip around the side and was ready to rip off whomever he could. Ma3lesh, we thought, we'll just pay him the 7ish LE we usually give to black & white cabdrivers when they take us from downtown to Zamalek or vice versa (with a white cab, it's been beteen 5.25 and 6 lately). So, we're riding along, our driver is swerving and nearly slamming into people, something to which we have become accustomed and he gets to the general area Erin had mentioned. She told him in Arabic "right [the direction] here, please" and he misunderstood her to mean she wanted him to pull over on the right-hand side. We politely correct him and he yammered on belligerently for a few seconds as he arrived at our destination. Erin task me, as the man, with handing him the money. I went to do so and he yelled "no, ten pound". I shook my head and held out the money to him. When he didn't take it, I set it on the passenger set and turned to walk away. Every other time this has happened, it has elicited a dejected head shake and a quick departure from the driver. Tonight the man actually spat at me and yelled. Startled, I let out a few choice words. Delightful.
Erin and I got some fiteer and laughed off the man's untoward behavior. Uplifted by being able to meet with my advisor to alleviate my thesis frustrations and squaring away my post-grad school travel plans, I was pretty feeling pretty unskinable.
Apparently though, I wasn't done offending Egyptians for the day. I posted a comment on my flatmate Phil's Facebook wall that was, I assure you, completely benign, but had a passing reference to Mohammad. My Muslim Egyptian friend felt I was "taking her Prophet lightly" and told me that she could forgive me if I wronged her, but "not Him". Given the gravity of her response, you'd think I'd said something decidedly blasphemous. I wish I could reproduce the utterly inoffensive comment here to prove my point, but I don't want to risk inflaming the situation. Exceedingly respectful of other religions, I never thought I'd accidentally find myself up against this kind of reaction. Ma3lesh. I apologized only that she took offense and not for my words. It was my own little taste of a broader tension than I'd hoped to avoid.
The combination of spitting cab drivers and spats with friends weren't enough to overcome the premature nostalgia I was experience for Cairo. I'm really in deep, I guess.

News & Issues

Egypt

• Mubarak meets with Carter over stalled Israeli-Palestinian peace process
• Mubarak Jr. engages Egyptian youth via the internet
  
• PM Nazif urges South Sudanese not to vote for independence in 2011 referendum
• Listen to or read NPR's story on Egypt and Israel's "cold peace"
• Student arrested over creating Facebook group accusing mogul of plagiarism
• With the upcoming Liberal International to be held in Cairo, many are asking why Egypt's liberals are so anti-Semitic
• Guardian article on Egyptians' "fear of authority" and "culture of stern obedience"

Elsewhere in the MENA

• Exiled Hamas leader lashes out over Al-Aqsa mosque tensions
• Tunisia's president unsurprisingly wins his fifth election by a landslide

Cairene Rain

Today it's raining out. This is only the second or third time such a thing has happened since I've been here. Apparently, people were even pulling over to the sides of the road to let the light shower subside.

I haven't ventured out much today, preferring to work on fellowship applications and reaction papers from the comfort of my own apartment. It wasn't the violence that happened yesterday that kept me inside in and of itself, but when I did go out, I felt warier than usual. It's so tragic that the murderous ignorance of a single person or a group of people can result in the arbitrary death of another human being. No ideology or personal grievance is worth more than than the life of any individual.

I mentioned a documentary in my last entry. Please check out the clip below if you have time. Maquilapolis is about the women who work in maquiladoras just inside the Mexican border, the exploitation they face, and how they go about seeking justice.

News:
Al-Jazeera report on market bomb (video clip)
Sudan's Bashir leaves Cairo today after talks with Mubarak; arrest warrant still in question
Cairo University students protest Interior Ministry security presence on campuses
Egypt takes small step in direction of religious freedom

Note: The whereabouts of imprisoned Palestine activist and blogger Diaa Gad are still unknown. For more information check out Amnesty International's article and the appeal for action at Prisoners for Gaza blog.

Brunch, a Bagel Store, and a Brezel

Seeking respite from the noise and stares of Cairo, Amanda and I again found ourselves at Lucille's, this time with Erin. Among the three of us, we had pancakes and waffles with maple syrup, hash browns, fried potatoes, toast, and omelets. Miraculously, we were able to order the omelets with egg whites only. Try that anywhere in Egypt and see what you end up with, I dare you! Basking in the Americanness of the restaurant, and the relative quite outside, we ended up shopping a bit after our meal. We wandered from one grocery store and fruit stand to the next, and eventually to a German-style bakery where I scored a free "brezel" (pretzel in German). Finding a bagel store was another pleasant surprise as was the courtesy of the man behind the counter. Amanda and I invested in some carrot cake for tomorrow which we plan to eat after dinner (hopefully Ethiopian food). The weather was sublime, probably in the upper 60s. A light rain fell, the first time I'd felt precipitation in Cairo that wasn't a leaky air conditioner. As if unsure how to descend because of their rarity, the raindrops weaved about in the air crazily rather than falling straight to the earth which, despite being in an upmarket neighborhood was covered in litter and stalked by mangy cats and dogs. The whole experience was refreshing, but we were reminded all too soon as we wandered north and found ourselves back in an even more trash-dense neighborhood replete with gawking, whistling men harassing my friends, and with obnoxious drivers honking the more negative aspects of living here. Collecting the money for tickets, I went up to the counter to buy one for each of us and had the man taking the money refused one of the 50 piastre notes that Amanda had given me. It was darkened as if burned, but not to any significant degree. I peered at him and slid the bill back under the window and he shook his head and said "change." Not giving in, I raised my voice and asked, "ay da!?" (What's this!?/What do you mean!?) He kept saying change and I told him that I had none and that it was legal currency and that, therefore, he was obliged to accept it. The volume of my voice increasing proportionally with the increasing length of time I was made to stand there and he tried to hush me at one point, put his fingers to his lips. Determined not to back down, I ended up screaming to the point where I was attracting attention, had a very kind Egyptian man trade me a 50 piastre coin for the haggardly note, and purchased the ticket. This is but one example of the bizarre obsession with the appearance of banknotes in Egypt. It's as though the cleaner and more pristine they are, the more valuable. Rather than blaming Egypt again, I reminded myself that the man who delivered me from my predicament was just as Egyptian as the man behind the counter and furthermore, recalled the time when, at a train station in Rennes, a snooty French ticketseller refused a bill. Ma'alish.
I am now back at home, reading a bit more for class and catching up on the news. Below are some links, as usual, to the goings-on of Egypt and the Middle East.

American student arrested and detained in Iran
Smuggling tunnels between Egypt and Gaza mean booming black market business
More on the man convicted for molesting a woman in the street, an exception to the rule of unchecked sexual harassment in Egypt