Today turned out to be a lot lower-key than expected. Few protests actually took place, an AP article saying efforts fizzled "amid heavy security presence". It seems like the opposition is dispirited and increasingly cynical. Sarah Carr's blog has an account of what little did happen.
Speaking of security, Phil, Antoine, and I met up with Marise and her visiting entourage at the Khan al-Khalili to hang out at al-Fishawy Café, crossing through the area where the bomb went off in February. The entire souq "complex" is extremely porous. Security manning a single metal-detector on the northeast side of the area clearly don't process the majority of visitors to the neighborhood. Worse, there's a nearby gate to allow tour buses in where under less-than-vigilant attention, just about anyone can circumvent said metal detector which in fact always beeps anyway. Anyway, after hanging out at al-Fishawy, we went to a baladi joint where my friends had pigeon and kofta. A couple of the pigeons still had their wee necks attached, but thankfully were head free.
On the way to the Khan, our smiley cabdriver found it appropriate to pull off on a side road and head to a gas station where he made us wait in the car while he filled up. No consideration whatsoever and no concept of us needing to be somewhere in a timely fashion. The cabride back home was less eventful and much quicker.
Class went well, I got my draft thesis proposal back and it seems I'm on the right track. I need to further clarify some things, but should be good to go when it comes time to submit my final proposal.

News:
Obama declares US not at war with Islam
Egyptian president invites Israeli PM to Cairo
Israeli conductor's upcoming visit to Egypt causing a stir

Racist Cabbies & Peoria Pals

Today was another beautiful day in Cairo (from a meteorological point of view, anyway). I did more laundry, ate more koshary, and end up going to CityStars, the obscenely large mall in the suburbs of Cairo with my friends Erin and Brandy. Because I am a responsible adult, I bought a sensible black shirt at H&M that was on sale and then a host of cleaning supplies and kitchenware at Spinney's. No more college-esque bachelor pad living for me; I own a colander now, and sponges! Anyway, on the way to said mall, our trio encountered a taxi-driver who explicitly told us that America was only good for money--I presume he meant making it. We assured him that with this financial crisis the only redeeming quality he found in our homeland might not even hold. He went on to share his incredibly racist views with us at which point I politely reminded him that our new president had African roots. This of course threw him off. Egyptians don't feel much camaraderie with the rest of their continental brethren, so he recovered quickly and came back with some ignorant retort. Ma3lesh, we said as many polite but firm things as could be said and then went on our way. The cabdriver on the way back drove like a maniac, scaring the girls. I was more miffed about the price he charged us. In the end, though, I was glad to have this mini-reunion/consumerist adventure with two of my favorite people in Cairo.
Back at my apartment, I chatted with my flatmate and made dinner and in the process received a call from an undergraduate from my alma mater, Bradley University. We'd planned to get koshary earlier, but his class ran later than I'd expected so I invited him to come up and hang out, which he did. It was fun having someone else who knew Peoria and Bradley and many of my friends and acquaintances.
Tomorrow, insha'allah, shall be a day of cleaning and unpacking and maybe a bit of reading for my classes that start next week.
Oh! And my honeymoon with a mosquito-free apartment ended abruptly this evening when some stealthy little bugger got me right between the eyebrows, on the forehead, and on my cheekbone. Thanks, mosquitokind, for reminding me about our bitter feud. I'll have you in the end.

News:
Middle East hopeful about Obama
Darfur activists arrested in Cairo
Egypt hosting Gaza reconstruction forum

Quiet in Bab al-Luq

Ross and I got koshary with Brian yesterday for lunch after another stop at the famed juice joint and then took him to Tahrir Square to get a yellow cab. Different from the haggle-heavy black and white taxi experience, riding in a yellow cab (in theory) means a metered ride free from smoke and loud music and, if you're lucky, the doors will even have functional handles. Since Brian's departure, things have been quiet. A lot of things were still closed for the Eid holiday. Ross and I spent most of the rest of the day in the apartment where I managed to write most of my second paper (that I finished earlier this afternoon). We went out for ful and ta3mayya sandwiches briefly, but that was about as exciting as it got until Ablavi came over and Phil dropped in for ludicrous conversation, mosquito-killing, and YouTube videos.
Today hasn't been a terribly exciting one, but finishing my paper was another huge weight off. I hope to make some headway with the third and final one yet this evening before and after I go out for Indian food with ten or so friends. At this point, it's humanly impossible to leisurely read over the sources and construct a well-thought out essay because of my professors continued changes to my topic. Nearly every other student in the class has had the same problems with her and we're breathing a collective sigh of relief that we won't have her as a professor next semester. Tomorrow is our last session of that class after which I hope to drag Phil and Ross back to the Khan to finish up my Christmas shopping. Sunday night, I'm going to the home of the French couple I met at Sequoia for a couscous dinner. I don't know if I have time for such things, but I couldn't refuse!

Maddening Mosquitoes and Other Frustrations

The acuteness of the pervasive and ever-present sense of struggle that is living in Egypt is returning, exacerbated by unforgiving mosquitoes who are smaller and faster than those in Minnesota. Just when I catch one in my sights, their tiny forms silhouetted against the dingy, uncleanable wall whose shade of paint is what only the sunniest of optimists could call cream, they sink down, blending in with the non-descript "neutral" tones of the haggardly area rug or the olivey fabric of our strange-smelling furniture. Sometimes, while typing, I suddenly notice a little hematophage feasting on my arm or foot or, as just now, I hear one buzzing past my ear. While I can take swipes at them while awake, the numerous red welts on my feets, legs, arms, and even face are evidence that they manage to let themselves into my bedroom (one of the windows in which, I have just discovered, cannot be properly shut and has a rather unconvincing mesh screen).
Like mosquitoes, the small aggravations that come with living in Egypt are most unnerving they're numerous, difficult to deal with, seemingly endlessly elusive, and pop up one right after another, just when you think you've vanquished them. I won't go through and complain about the particular problems with my apartment beyond the pesky flesh-nibbling one I've described and to say that after the fiasco with my landlord and my neighbors, I feel compelled to find other lodgings (Ahmed called Catherine all kinds of foul names I won't repeat her, told her he had the upper hand because he was a doctor and an Egyptian, reminded her that his "uncle" who lives upstairs works for the Ministry of the Interior, etc.) Beyond this, I keep wavering on whether or not to stick with the program I'm in and turn it into a Master's. I'll go for weeks at a time, convinced of the soundness of my plans, and then get discouraged and think I'm perhaps not on the right path. At school, my papers are seeming daunting and I should really meet with my professors to try and understand better what's expected (though I've been getting good grades thus far). Taxis, the service (or lack thereof) at restaurants and grocery stores, the stares, the things shouted, and the general lack of logic as I'm accustomed to it have again become wearing. Add to the stress emanating from my living conditions, school, and my interactions with Egypt an email reply I received from my scholarship coordinator at Rotary HQ in response to my first report in which I explained the difficulties that have prevented me (along with the three other scholars in Cairo) giving speeches yet, and I've just about had it. The email said that the scholarship coordinator would not accept my report without the "Required Presentations Form" with the "correct number of presentations listed and the appropriate signatures listed." Lest I offend, I am going to refrain for the time being from making further remarks about this, but will report on how it all ends up resolved.
Last evening, I met up with my friend Sheila who, in the nearly half-decade since I'd last seen her, had married an Egyptian investment banker and had traveled to the Middle East a dozen times, seems to be doing really well. We had dinner with the requisite reprehensibly rude service at Sangria. Some of the food was pretty good which, combined with the fun of catching up with an old friend, sort of made up for the rest of it. A taxi driver who drove like a maniac was my means of returning home and became disgruntled when I didn't give him the exorbitantly high fare he demanded.
This evening, I had Thai with classmates who were also quite good company. The service was spotty, as is obviously the theme here and so it was when I went to Metro Market afterward to try and get groceries. They were out of the bottled water I'd gone there to buy and I won't even delve into the antics of the cashiers in the check-out lanes. Thankfully, the taxi-ride home tonight was calmer and more peaceably concluded than the last. I mailed some postcards and greeting cards to friends and family, bought some bottles of water, and came back to seek solace in aish baladi and halawa only to receive the aforementioned email.
I'm reading through the news now and it seems some minor violence erupted downtown today, see the first article below. I heard some commotion earlier, but suspect it was just your run-of-the-mill brawl and not connected, though you never know. I'm not sure how close Ghad headquarters are to my part of Downtown.

News:
Clashes erupts at Egyptian opposition party headquarters
Osama bin Laden's son, currently living in Egypt, was refused asylum in Spain
Optimism in Egypt in wake of Obama win

Can you get me a visa?

I realize I just published a post, but I thought I'd add a second one more geared toward people I've encountered. As an "ambassador of goodwill" as my Rotary mandate calls me to be, I often think about my comportment in the street and how I might be coming off to Egyptians. Even though I've only been here a few days, how I perceive the people here has shifted enormously. I'll admit that despite considering myself an open-minded, worldly type of guy, I had and continue to have my fair share of stubbornly ingrained prejudices. Tense, nervous, and worried about getting ripped off is an approach that I foresee melting away (though slowly) as I begin to reinterpret quirks and nuances of the Egyptian people that I haven't grasped right off. I've begun replying, smiling to children and teens who find great novelty in saying hello in English to a tow-headed, blue-eyed foreigner and, to my great relief, more often than not, they're not asking for money. Whether they're laughing at me or just nervously (or both) I don't know and don't really care.
Very often taxi drivers are pushy (many will slow down, but not stop, honk ceaselessly at you, and gesture wildly for you to get into their dilapidated, most likely only partially functional vehicle in hopes you'll desire their services). In light of this, I have taken to ignoring them (often the best course of action,) but today when asked if I wanted a taxi by drivers outside of their cars, I said "no, thank you" as politely as possible in my limited Arabic and found, to my amazement, that some took no for an answer. So they do have ears! This isn't an apologetic for all cabbies in Egypt, indeed many are rudely persistent, but it goes to show that one mustn't generalize. When you actually do hop in a taxi, it becomes about not getting taken advantage of. When leaving Al-Azhar, I told Ross we should try to get a cab for 5-6 LE (Egyptian Pounds; from the French Livres égyptiens) if possible. The first cabdriver we came across asked for 10 or 12 pounds and, when we declined, he drove off in disgust. The second asked for ten and I said "la" (no in Arabic) and began to walk off. We had told him we'd pay six and he said that ten was a good price. In a moment, the woman who'd just gotten out of the vehicle told us to come back, that the cab drive had agreed to our price. As we got in, he quoted us a new price of eight. Defeated, I rolled my eyes and hopped in the backseat anyway. "Good brice, good brice," laughed the driver, "Americans are rich!"
"LA, LA, LA," I retorted, "we're students." As the drive went on though, Ross, who's much more proficient in Arabic than I am, exchanged some words with what turned out to be a good-natured and kind-seeming man. He pointed out various landmarks to us, taught us some words in Arabic, and--the kicker--knew where the heck he was going (sometimes hard to find in a taxi-driver here). We were suckered, of course, by his charm and, without him even asking, we gave him 10 LE. That's about $1.86 for a five and a half mile cab ride...so we weren't too much worse for the wear.

Going back in time to our visit to Al-Azhar: Ross and I stopped a couple of times to buy maya (water in Arabic) from guys at Nestlé (nest-luh, as it's pronounced here according to my venerable roommate) carts selling ice cream, soda, and water. The second guy was jovial and chatty and tried to get me to give him a US dollar "for to remember" and, after I refused, he then surprised us by producing an American dollar from a wad of money and tried to sell it to me! We joked and laugh and then he inquired, "Can I ask you a question? Is it true visa on internet or is it liar?" Ross and I assured him that there were countless e-scams out there pretending to be able to procure legal passage to the States for non-Americans. He asked "Then how can I visit America? Can you help me visit America?" We laughed and told him he'd have to visit the embassy. It occurred to me though that he'll probably never get to experience my country as I am his. The restrictions on his entry into the States, for one, are prohibitive. Secondly, the financial gap between the average American and the average Egyptian is such that even middle class Americans can romp all around the globe if they wish (though it may take some planning and wise financial decisions) whereas only the wealthiest Egyptians could ever hope to get to the US. It saddened me to think that my newfound chum, Hassan, would be "stuck" in Egypt, while I was allowed to come and go as I pleased.

Carl in Cairo

After what was perhaps the most glorious and satisfying shower of my life, I got dressed and plopped down on an overstuffed armchair in my new (to me, otherwise, quite old) rather kitschy living room to write up this entry.
Arriving yesterday into Cairo International from New York via Frankfurt, I enjoyed a very easy entry into Egypt: no delays at passport or customs and no lost luggage. My ride, the grandson of the cousin of the father of a friend of friends (al-hamdulillah for obscure connections), arrived in typical Egyptian fashion: late but full of hospitality and goodwill. In Egypt, the concept of time is vastly different than our efficiency-driven American paradigm. The wave of Cairene heat hit me as I left the building and headed for the the black SUV that was to convey me through the treacherous streets of Cairo and to my apartment (eventually). "Not as hot as I remember," I thought optimistically myself, reflecting on my last visit to the country in late July, 2005.
Though infinitely thankful not to be taking a taxi, I had to laugh (nervously) to myself as my friend's driver stopped half a dozen times to try and ascertain where exactly we were going. He deftly dodged other cars, cyclists, and fearless pedestrians as we made our way into downtown Cairo, which we promptly left, ending up driving through Zamalek (a neighborhood/island in the Nile) and to the wrong side of the river into a quarter called al-Doqqi. Amazingly, I remembered the layout of the city from last time, and was able to explain that I was pretty sure we were going the wrong way. Of course, the driver didn't listen to me at first, but later relented and ended up bringing me to my new home on Tahrir Street, not too far from AUC's old campus.
My roommate, Ross, a Rotary ambassadorial scholar from District #5810 in Texas has turned out to be a godsend--he lined up the apartment before arriving and has been here for a while already, enabling him to show me the ropes and work out kinks with the landlord. Though fading fast from lack of sleep and the time change, I managed to have lively conversation with Maged, the young man who'd come to meet me at the airport, Ross, and our neighbor Karyn until it was time for us to get some grub. We wandered through the crowded, dirty streets to, of all things, a Swiss restaurant. Now, when something is "Swiss" or "Italian" or anything else exotic in Cairo, it's not quite authentic. In fact, I was able to enjoy moussaka, a Mediterranean dish, though the Egyptian take on röschti might've been interesting.
Though I'll readily admit that Egypt is overwhelming and quite intimidating, as pre-dinner and dinner conversation turned to the Arab-Israeli conflict, the idiosyncrasies of Egypt, Islam on the very first night, I knew that I'd made the right decision and that this year, though hugely challenging, will be fantastic. As one might expect, Ross and I have a lot in common in terms of interest. In fact, we found out that we both interned in the same section (Diplomatic Security) in our respective embassies (Lima, Peru for him, Paris for me). Ross has already made connections with a Young Diplomats club and I have friends in the area from a Global Young Leaders Conference I did in high school as well as other connections that should be a good start to our meeting friends and serving as ambassadors of goodwill and understanding. Hopefully we'll soon hear from our scholarship coordinator at Rotary HQ about being assigned clubs, but no word on that yet.
Though I got a relatively good night's sleep, jet leg is keeping me a bit groggy, so I'll leave off blogging for now!