Last weekend we went to St. Katherine’s Monastery (the oldest monastery in the world) and Sharm el-Sheikh, which boasts some of the most beautiful beaches and coral reefs in the world. It was very touristy, and to be honest I experienced culture shock while I was there—not from Egypt, but from the Europeans. Suffice it to say Europeans are definitely much more comfortable with showing their bodies than Americans are, not to mention Egyptians. The crown jewel of my experiences with naked Europeans on the beach was when a woman in a string bikini began breastfeeding her completely naked toddler in the hotel’s swimming pool. They were happy.
St. Katherine’s Monastery was built at the foot of Mount Sinai, which is supposedly the same mountain where Moses received the Ten Commandments. Naturally, we decided to climb the mountain to watch the sun set over the Sinai. Now to those of you who have never hiked up a mountain, let me tell you that it’s very tiring, sometimes dangerous, and definitely worth it. I was acutely aware of how OUT of shape I am the entire way (and yes, I rested frequently), but after about 3 hours of trudging up, we finally found ourselves at the top. The scene was breathtaking and serene. Someone had built a chapel at the top, and there were a few places to relax and enjoy the sunset, which was beautiful.
The downside to climbing a mountain to see the sunset is that you have to climb down in the dark, which is exactly what we did. At first it wasn’t too bad since the twilight guided our steps, but after a while night settled in. We found ourselves clinging to each other and using our cell phones as flashlights as we stumbled down the path. As we neared the bottom of the mountain we noticed there were many camels around us—just when we began to suspect what had happened, we heard a frantic Egyptian man calling to us; it was so dark that we had accidently stumbled into a camel pen!!! The man called to us to help guide us out of his barnyard. On the plus side, there was no light pollution, and I’ve never seen so many stars in the sky. Seeing the heavens completely opened like that was even more moving than watching the sunset on God’s mountain.
In Sharm, we spent an entire day on a yacht on the Red Sea, which was fabulous. They took us snorkeling to some of the most beautiful coral reefs in the world. It was my first time snorkeling, and I got to see hundreds of brightly-colored fish, coral, eels, a squid, and what looked like a blue stingray with yellow spots. We swam in three different locations, and they fed us delicious food on the boat. We also had fun jumping off of the boat into the crystal-clear water. Some people dived off of the top canopy, which was probably a three-story dive. I just jumped off of the top deck, which was around two-stories, and that was amazing. I remember thinking on the way down, oh, shit; this is much higher than I thought! *SPLASH!*
Otherwise, honestly, there’s not much more to say about Sharm. It’s the “Cancun of the Arab world,” so everything is touristy and built up as a resort. While of course I enjoyed it for especially the latter reason, there’s only so much you can say about a trip that was spent mostly drinking cocktails and laying on the beach. As I mentioned before, it did help me understand the Egyptian tourism industry and how the “West” interacts (or doesn’t interact) with the “East,” but otherwise I’m not sure I understand why my program took us there. I hardly spoke any Arabic, and I had only minimal interactions with Egyptians since our program had arranged and scheduled every minute of our trip. On the whole though, I enjoyed my time and if nothing else I would recommend snorkeling in the Red Sea—that definitely falls into the top-five coolest things I’ve done in my life. And as icing on the cake, I didn’t get sunburned!
27 July 2009
22 July 2009
I went back to Mahgda’s house on Wednesday after class with Spencer and a gal named Kira who had just arrived from San Francisco. As expected, we had a blast. Here are some highlights from our journey:
One of Mahgda’s grandchildren (Ali) is a six-and-one-half year old butterball of a child who loves attention and speaks both English and Arabic quite well. After a while he and the other children warmed up to us a bit and felt more comfortable speaking in front of us. So it came to pass that as the whole family was sitting around and drinking tea, young Ali looked over to me and demanded, “You have boyfriend?” Flabbergasted, I burst into laughter with everyone else and told him, no, I don’t in fact have a boyfriend. He wrinkled his brow at me and again demanded, “You have boyfriend?” and I again replied that I did not. At this point he shot Spencer a suspicious eye and asked, “Why not? I your boyfriend!” At this point we were all bursting with hearty laughter; I couldn’t even reply to the child. As we were all laughing, Ali said something in rapid Arabic that provoked an even stronger response from those who could understand. As I was not one of them, I had to wait until Ali’s grandfather could stop laughing long enough to inform me that Ali had asked if I wanted a kiss. Laughing, I decided to call his bluff and pointed at my cheek. The poor kid didn’t know what to do, so we laughed all the more and had a jolly afternoon.
Mahgda is an amazing chef, and she pulls all the stops when she has guests. We were treated to the best lunch I’ve had in Egypt. She made us eggplant, rice, potatoes, and various delicious meats. I ate much more than I needed and still craved another helping when I decided to stop eating for health’s sake. I think Egypt is much like Tunisia in that there aren’t many varieties of restaurants to choose from, and of the ones we tend to frequent, not much of the food is worth mentioning. Most people eat at home with their families, and it is a universal truth that home cooked food surpasses anything one can find in a restaurant. For that reason, our group gets a little restless when we know Mahgda is preparing a meal for us, which happens occasionally during the school week; early in the morning we start guessing what foods she’ll bring us, and these thoughts often dominate our conversation for the entire day. So it was once again wonderful to be at Mahgda’s house, eat her food, and enjoy the company of her family.
We talked and swam until late in the evening, and around 1:30 the three Americans decided to take a final walk on the beach before going to bed. We were given strict instructions to stay away from the water lest we be mistaken for smugglers and arrested, but otherwise we had free reign of the sand. The waves off the sea were still very high from a storm somewhere north, but aside from the water breaking against the shore, it was silent. No people remained on the beach, and the sky was full of stars. We had intended to walk around a bit, but instead we ended up lying on the sand silently observing the heavens and listening to the sea. After a while, we tacitly stood up one by one and made our way back to the house where our beds waited for us.
*****
In other stories from Alexandria, I was walking back to the hotel after classes last week with some friends when a couple Egyptians coming from the other direction began openly staring at me. My friend and I had just made our way around some scaffolding that protruded onto the sidewalk, when the two guys passed us—still staring—and one of them actually turned around to continue staring right before he walked straight into the scaffolding! My friend and I only knew what had happened because we heard the loud *thud* as the guy completely body slammed the wooden wall. Haha. Fail.
That’s one of the more interesting things I’ve noticed about Egypt so far—it’s a culture of looking at other people and staring unabashedly at whoever happens to catch your eye, and as a foreigner I attract many eyes as I make my way through the streets. Though I sometimes feel uncomfortable under this constant scrutiny, I will say it bothers me much less than the attention I received in Tunis last summer where I was occasionally pinched or grabbed. Egypt gets more credit since I’ve not experienced anything unpleasant beyond some stares and random comments as I pass. It made me think a little about women’s rights in the Middle East and at home. While Tunisia will boast of the most “progressive” women’s rights laws in the region, I still felt like a piece of meat walking in streets full of hungry dogs (at least in the touristy areas in the city; I should be clear to say that Tunisians are among my favorite people in the world and the people I’ve described definitely represent a small minority rather than the whole). Egypt, on the other hand, is a much more conservative country where nearly every woman in the street wears a hijab and a significant number are fully veiled, showing only their eyes. While men do stare at me (and other women), they still have a level of respect for their female counterparts. Men won’t touch women—even the security guy at the airport won’t frisk ladies passing through the gates; we’re allowed to simply walk through while the guards search and fondle the guys. While admittedly that creates its own problems, it’s still nice to be in a place where women are respected and cherished as something—someone—special; even if women have fewer legal rights than men.
This also made me think about women's rights at home. I do think I enjoy freedom equal to--or at least nearly equal to--that of men. At the same time though, I also experience harassment in the States very similar to that which I experience here in the Middle East. Cars full of young men frequently shout or honk at me when I'm walking on the sidewalks both in my hometown and at my school. While I don't think that behavior is appropriate anywhere I go, it helps me to put a broader perspective on harassment in the Middle East as something that occurs worldwide, not only in places with fewer women's rights.
One of Mahgda’s grandchildren (Ali) is a six-and-one-half year old butterball of a child who loves attention and speaks both English and Arabic quite well. After a while he and the other children warmed up to us a bit and felt more comfortable speaking in front of us. So it came to pass that as the whole family was sitting around and drinking tea, young Ali looked over to me and demanded, “You have boyfriend?” Flabbergasted, I burst into laughter with everyone else and told him, no, I don’t in fact have a boyfriend. He wrinkled his brow at me and again demanded, “You have boyfriend?” and I again replied that I did not. At this point he shot Spencer a suspicious eye and asked, “Why not? I your boyfriend!” At this point we were all bursting with hearty laughter; I couldn’t even reply to the child. As we were all laughing, Ali said something in rapid Arabic that provoked an even stronger response from those who could understand. As I was not one of them, I had to wait until Ali’s grandfather could stop laughing long enough to inform me that Ali had asked if I wanted a kiss. Laughing, I decided to call his bluff and pointed at my cheek. The poor kid didn’t know what to do, so we laughed all the more and had a jolly afternoon.
Mahgda is an amazing chef, and she pulls all the stops when she has guests. We were treated to the best lunch I’ve had in Egypt. She made us eggplant, rice, potatoes, and various delicious meats. I ate much more than I needed and still craved another helping when I decided to stop eating for health’s sake. I think Egypt is much like Tunisia in that there aren’t many varieties of restaurants to choose from, and of the ones we tend to frequent, not much of the food is worth mentioning. Most people eat at home with their families, and it is a universal truth that home cooked food surpasses anything one can find in a restaurant. For that reason, our group gets a little restless when we know Mahgda is preparing a meal for us, which happens occasionally during the school week; early in the morning we start guessing what foods she’ll bring us, and these thoughts often dominate our conversation for the entire day. So it was once again wonderful to be at Mahgda’s house, eat her food, and enjoy the company of her family.
We talked and swam until late in the evening, and around 1:30 the three Americans decided to take a final walk on the beach before going to bed. We were given strict instructions to stay away from the water lest we be mistaken for smugglers and arrested, but otherwise we had free reign of the sand. The waves off the sea were still very high from a storm somewhere north, but aside from the water breaking against the shore, it was silent. No people remained on the beach, and the sky was full of stars. We had intended to walk around a bit, but instead we ended up lying on the sand silently observing the heavens and listening to the sea. After a while, we tacitly stood up one by one and made our way back to the house where our beds waited for us.
*****
In other stories from Alexandria, I was walking back to the hotel after classes last week with some friends when a couple Egyptians coming from the other direction began openly staring at me. My friend and I had just made our way around some scaffolding that protruded onto the sidewalk, when the two guys passed us—still staring—and one of them actually turned around to continue staring right before he walked straight into the scaffolding! My friend and I only knew what had happened because we heard the loud *thud* as the guy completely body slammed the wooden wall. Haha. Fail.
That’s one of the more interesting things I’ve noticed about Egypt so far—it’s a culture of looking at other people and staring unabashedly at whoever happens to catch your eye, and as a foreigner I attract many eyes as I make my way through the streets. Though I sometimes feel uncomfortable under this constant scrutiny, I will say it bothers me much less than the attention I received in Tunis last summer where I was occasionally pinched or grabbed. Egypt gets more credit since I’ve not experienced anything unpleasant beyond some stares and random comments as I pass. It made me think a little about women’s rights in the Middle East and at home. While Tunisia will boast of the most “progressive” women’s rights laws in the region, I still felt like a piece of meat walking in streets full of hungry dogs (at least in the touristy areas in the city; I should be clear to say that Tunisians are among my favorite people in the world and the people I’ve described definitely represent a small minority rather than the whole). Egypt, on the other hand, is a much more conservative country where nearly every woman in the street wears a hijab and a significant number are fully veiled, showing only their eyes. While men do stare at me (and other women), they still have a level of respect for their female counterparts. Men won’t touch women—even the security guy at the airport won’t frisk ladies passing through the gates; we’re allowed to simply walk through while the guards search and fondle the guys. While admittedly that creates its own problems, it’s still nice to be in a place where women are respected and cherished as something—someone—special; even if women have fewer legal rights than men.
This also made me think about women's rights at home. I do think I enjoy freedom equal to--or at least nearly equal to--that of men. At the same time though, I also experience harassment in the States very similar to that which I experience here in the Middle East. Cars full of young men frequently shout or honk at me when I'm walking on the sidewalks both in my hometown and at my school. While I don't think that behavior is appropriate anywhere I go, it helps me to put a broader perspective on harassment in the Middle East as something that occurs worldwide, not only in places with fewer women's rights.
11 July 2009
A Day at the Director's Beach House
Yesterday was possibly one of the best days I’ve had in Egypt. Our school week is Sunday to Thursday, so on Thursday nights we’ve developed the tradition of going as a group to the Greek Club to eat a fabulous dinner and enjoy some drinks. Last Thursday night was no exception, but we did have a larger group going than usual, and since we couldn’t get through on the telephone to make a reservation, my friend and I decided to go earlier than everyone else and give them a warning and time to prepare a space for us. We decided to take a microbus down, so we crossed the Cornish and hailed one of the white 15-passenger vans that roll around town. We hopped in the front seat, but soon realized the traffic in the street was going to slow us down. Then the van turned much sooner than we had expected, so we jumped out, paid our 20 cents and began searching for a new microbus to take us the rest of the way. The new bus we found was nearly full, so we squeezed in the back. He and I were trying to speak in Arabic, and I think the other passengers appreciated it. In any case they laughed at us, and we went along our merry way. Again we got about half-way to our destination when the van stopped and emptied its passengers. At that point we gave up and decided to walk the remaining half-mile to the club. When we got there, the rest of the group had beaten us and had already gotten a table. After a while we ordered, some more people joined us, and we had a really great time. I especially enjoyed the evening since I was able to talk to a few people I normally don’t see very often.
At the end of the night I was left with three friends, and we decided it would be fun to throw a small party in the hotel, so on the way home we picked up some drinks then had a fun time with many CLSers in the larger corner room of the hotel. It really was a very fun evening, and again I was able to spend time with some people I normally don’t see very often. Plus, it was just nice to relax and not think about Arabic or school.
So I woke up yesterday already in a good mood from the previous evening when the hotel maid came to clean our room. We had been slowly becoming more comfortable trying to talk to each other for a few weeks, but yesterday we truly bonded. We chatted for about 20 minutes, all in Arabic, hand gestures, and giggles. She told me her name is Sahr, and she is married with three children, aged 9-14. She was also really nice to me and washed some of my clothes and frequently told me how pretty I am, once even comparing me to the moon, which I think must be an Arabic phrase along the lines of “your face is like the moon.” Needless to say, the interaction put me in an even more cheerful mood, so after I had showered and gotten ready for the day, I spent some time chit-chatting with friends in the lobby of the hotel and in general having fun until about 2:00 when the group piled on a bus to spend the afternoon at Mahgda’s house (Mahgda is the director of the language center here and is a really wonderful person all around).
The bus ride took about an hour, and we were able to see the outskirts of Alexandria, some of which were nicer than others. I had fun talking with my friends and learning how to tie cherry stems with my tongue (I was successful twice!). Even so, the real fun began when we arrived at Mahgda’s glorious summer home. Her home is large with a pool and a garden and plenty of space to entertain. I think all of our jaws dropped when we walked in. We immediately felt at home, and after a few minutes of settling in, we made our way to the beach. There were some great waves, the sand wasn’t too crowded, and the weather was perfect. The water was a perfect temperature for swimming, so I was fully immersed within minutes. Two of my friends were body surfing, so, interested, I asked them to teach me. I spent the next hour trying to “catch some waves” with my friends, and in general having a blast. I think I was successful two or three times in body surfing, but I definitely need some more practice.
After swimming we ate lunch, which ranks as the best meal I’ve had in this country, hands down. We had baked rice, eggplant, kabobs, and all other kinds of delicious Egyptian food. I ate way more than I should have, and loved every bite. After lunch we hung around, occasionally laughing when someone walked too close to the pool and was pushed in. I wandered around from group to group and eventually ended up holding the baby (Khamsa) and playing with the kids in the grass. After a while I gave the kid back to his mother and I began playing Frisbee with some friends and some of the Egyptians. A bunch of the kids wanted to play with us, which worked out really well since every time one of us threw a fly-away disc there were 6 or so children chasing after it for us. As we were playing we heard drums and music begin in the garden, so we ended our game and returned to find 6 Nubians playing traditional music and dancing. I danced with my friends and the Nubians for a few hours, and we were all exhausted after the show was over.
The evening was settling in by this time, so we all sat down and socialized for a while. When the sun had set and the stars were out, one of Mahgda’s relatives began playing the Oudh (I have no idea how to spell that one, but it’s a stringed instrument like a banjo or guitar). We listened to music and relaxed until very late in the night. I was sitting in the grass and watching the Egyptians sing along with the Oudh player, who was himself an amazing vocalist, when I felt completely happy and at peace with where I am and what I’m doing. I just sat in the grass and fully experienced how lucky and happy I am with how things have turned out and are turning out. I only hope I remember times like these when I face my next challenge in life.
At the end of the night I was left with three friends, and we decided it would be fun to throw a small party in the hotel, so on the way home we picked up some drinks then had a fun time with many CLSers in the larger corner room of the hotel. It really was a very fun evening, and again I was able to spend time with some people I normally don’t see very often. Plus, it was just nice to relax and not think about Arabic or school.
So I woke up yesterday already in a good mood from the previous evening when the hotel maid came to clean our room. We had been slowly becoming more comfortable trying to talk to each other for a few weeks, but yesterday we truly bonded. We chatted for about 20 minutes, all in Arabic, hand gestures, and giggles. She told me her name is Sahr, and she is married with three children, aged 9-14. She was also really nice to me and washed some of my clothes and frequently told me how pretty I am, once even comparing me to the moon, which I think must be an Arabic phrase along the lines of “your face is like the moon.” Needless to say, the interaction put me in an even more cheerful mood, so after I had showered and gotten ready for the day, I spent some time chit-chatting with friends in the lobby of the hotel and in general having fun until about 2:00 when the group piled on a bus to spend the afternoon at Mahgda’s house (Mahgda is the director of the language center here and is a really wonderful person all around).
The bus ride took about an hour, and we were able to see the outskirts of Alexandria, some of which were nicer than others. I had fun talking with my friends and learning how to tie cherry stems with my tongue (I was successful twice!). Even so, the real fun began when we arrived at Mahgda’s glorious summer home. Her home is large with a pool and a garden and plenty of space to entertain. I think all of our jaws dropped when we walked in. We immediately felt at home, and after a few minutes of settling in, we made our way to the beach. There were some great waves, the sand wasn’t too crowded, and the weather was perfect. The water was a perfect temperature for swimming, so I was fully immersed within minutes. Two of my friends were body surfing, so, interested, I asked them to teach me. I spent the next hour trying to “catch some waves” with my friends, and in general having a blast. I think I was successful two or three times in body surfing, but I definitely need some more practice.
After swimming we ate lunch, which ranks as the best meal I’ve had in this country, hands down. We had baked rice, eggplant, kabobs, and all other kinds of delicious Egyptian food. I ate way more than I should have, and loved every bite. After lunch we hung around, occasionally laughing when someone walked too close to the pool and was pushed in. I wandered around from group to group and eventually ended up holding the baby (Khamsa) and playing with the kids in the grass. After a while I gave the kid back to his mother and I began playing Frisbee with some friends and some of the Egyptians. A bunch of the kids wanted to play with us, which worked out really well since every time one of us threw a fly-away disc there were 6 or so children chasing after it for us. As we were playing we heard drums and music begin in the garden, so we ended our game and returned to find 6 Nubians playing traditional music and dancing. I danced with my friends and the Nubians for a few hours, and we were all exhausted after the show was over.
The evening was settling in by this time, so we all sat down and socialized for a while. When the sun had set and the stars were out, one of Mahgda’s relatives began playing the Oudh (I have no idea how to spell that one, but it’s a stringed instrument like a banjo or guitar). We listened to music and relaxed until very late in the night. I was sitting in the grass and watching the Egyptians sing along with the Oudh player, who was himself an amazing vocalist, when I felt completely happy and at peace with where I am and what I’m doing. I just sat in the grass and fully experienced how lucky and happy I am with how things have turned out and are turning out. I only hope I remember times like these when I face my next challenge in life.
A Day at the Director's Beach House
Yesterday was possibly one of the best days I’ve had in Egypt. Our school week is Sunday to Thursday, so on Thursday nights we’ve developed the tradition of going as a group to the Greek Club to eat a fabulous dinner and enjoy some drinks. Last Thursday night was no exception, but we did have a larger group going than usual, and since we couldn’t get through on the telephone to make a reservation, my friend and I decided to go earlier than everyone else and give them a warning and time to prepare a space for us. We decided to take a microbus down, so we crossed the Cornish and hailed one of the white 15-passenger vans that roll around town. We hopped in the front seat, but soon realized the traffic in the street was going to slow us down. Then the van turned much sooner than we had expected, so we jumped out, paid our 20 cents and began searching for a new microbus to take us the rest of the way. The new bus we found was nearly full, so we squeezed in the back. He and I were trying to speak in Arabic, and I think the other passengers appreciated it. In any case they laughed at us, and we went along our merry way. Again we got about half-way to our destination when the van stopped and emptied its passengers. At that point we gave up and decided to walk the remaining half-mile to the club. When we got there, the rest of the group had beaten us and had already gotten a table. After a while we ordered, some more people joined us, and we had a really great time. I especially enjoyed the evening since I was able to talk to a few people I normally don’t see very often.
At the end of the night I was left with three friends, and we decided it would be fun to throw a small party in the hotel, so on the way home we picked up some drinks then had a fun time with many CLSers in the larger corner room of the hotel. It really was a very fun evening, and again I was able to spend time with some people I normally don’t see very often. Plus, it was just nice to relax and not think about Arabic or school.
So I woke up yesterday already in a good mood from the previous evening when the hotel maid came to clean our room. We had been slowly becoming more comfortable trying to talk to each other for a few weeks, but yesterday we truly bonded. We chatted for about 20 minutes, all in Arabic, hand gestures, and giggles. She told me her name is Sahr, and she is married with three children, aged 9-14. She was also really nice to me and washed some of my clothes and frequently told me how pretty I am, once even comparing me to the moon, which I think must be an Arabic phrase along the lines of “your face is like the moon.” Needless to say, the interaction put me in an even more cheerful mood, so after I had showered and gotten ready for the day, I spent some time chit-chatting with friends in the lobby of the hotel and in general having fun until about 2:00 when the group piled on a bus to spend the afternoon at Mahgda’s house (Mahgda is the director of the language center here and is a really wonderful person all around).
The bus ride took about an hour, and we were able to see the outskirts of Alexandria, some of which were nicer than others. I had fun talking with my friends and learning how to tie cherry stems with my tongue (I was successful twice!). Even so, the real fun began when we arrived at Mahgda’s glorious summer home. Her home is large with a pool and a garden and plenty of space to entertain. I think all of our jaws dropped when we walked in. We immediately felt at home, and after a few minutes of settling in, we made our way to the beach. There were some great waves, the sand wasn’t too crowded, and the weather was perfect. The water was a perfect temperature for swimming, so I was fully immersed within minutes. Two of my friends were body surfing, so, interested, I asked them to teach me. I spent the next hour trying to “catch some waves” with my friends, and in general having a blast. I think I was successful two or three times in body surfing, but I definitely need some more practice.
After swimming we ate lunch, which ranks as the best meal I’ve had in this country, hands down. We had baked rice, eggplant, kabobs, and all other kinds of delicious Egyptian food. I ate way more than I should have, and loved every bite. After lunch we hung around, occasionally laughing when someone walked too close to the pool and was pushed in. I wandered around from group to group and eventually ended up holding the baby (Khamsa) and playing with the kids in the grass. After a while I gave the kid back to his mother and I began playing Frisbee with some friends and some of the Egyptians. A bunch of the kids wanted to play with us, which worked out really well since every time one of us threw a fly-away disc there were 6 or so children chasing after it for us. As we were playing we heard drums and music begin in the garden, so we ended our game and returned to find 6 Nubians playing traditional music and dancing. I danced with my friends and the Nubians for a few hours, and we were all exhausted after the show was over.
The evening was settling in by this time, so we all sat down and socialized for a while. When the sun had set and the stars were out, one of Mahgda’s relatives began playing the Oudh (I have no idea how to spell that one, but it’s a stringed instrument like a banjo or guitar). We listened to music and relaxed until very late in the night. I was sitting in the grass and watching the Egyptians sing along with the Oudh player, who was himself an amazing vocalist, when I felt completely happy and at peace with where I am and what I’m doing. I just sat in the grass and fully experienced how lucky and happy I am with how things have turned out and are turning out. I only hope I remember times like these when I face my next challenge in life.
At the end of the night I was left with three friends, and we decided it would be fun to throw a small party in the hotel, so on the way home we picked up some drinks then had a fun time with many CLSers in the larger corner room of the hotel. It really was a very fun evening, and again I was able to spend time with some people I normally don’t see very often. Plus, it was just nice to relax and not think about Arabic or school.
So I woke up yesterday already in a good mood from the previous evening when the hotel maid came to clean our room. We had been slowly becoming more comfortable trying to talk to each other for a few weeks, but yesterday we truly bonded. We chatted for about 20 minutes, all in Arabic, hand gestures, and giggles. She told me her name is Sahr, and she is married with three children, aged 9-14. She was also really nice to me and washed some of my clothes and frequently told me how pretty I am, once even comparing me to the moon, which I think must be an Arabic phrase along the lines of “your face is like the moon.” Needless to say, the interaction put me in an even more cheerful mood, so after I had showered and gotten ready for the day, I spent some time chit-chatting with friends in the lobby of the hotel and in general having fun until about 2:00 when the group piled on a bus to spend the afternoon at Mahgda’s house (Mahgda is the director of the language center here and is a really wonderful person all around).
The bus ride took about an hour, and we were able to see the outskirts of Alexandria, some of which were nicer than others. I had fun talking with my friends and learning how to tie cherry stems with my tongue (I was successful twice!). Even so, the real fun began when we arrived at Mahgda’s glorious summer home. Her home is large with a pool and a garden and plenty of space to entertain. I think all of our jaws dropped when we walked in. We immediately felt at home, and after a few minutes of settling in, we made our way to the beach. There were some great waves, the sand wasn’t too crowded, and the weather was perfect. The water was a perfect temperature for swimming, so I was fully immersed within minutes. Two of my friends were body surfing, so, interested, I asked them to teach me. I spent the next hour trying to “catch some waves” with my friends, and in general having a blast. I think I was successful two or three times in body surfing, but I definitely need some more practice.
After swimming we ate lunch, which ranks as the best meal I’ve had in this country, hands down. We had baked rice, eggplant, kabobs, and all other kinds of delicious Egyptian food. I ate way more than I should have, and loved every bite. After lunch we hung around, occasionally laughing when someone walked too close to the pool and was pushed in. I wandered around from group to group and eventually ended up holding the baby (Khamsa) and playing with the kids in the grass. After a while I gave the kid back to his mother and I began playing Frisbee with some friends and some of the Egyptians. A bunch of the kids wanted to play with us, which worked out really well since every time one of us threw a fly-away disc there were 6 or so children chasing after it for us. As we were playing we heard drums and music begin in the garden, so we ended our game and returned to find 6 Nubians playing traditional music and dancing. I danced with my friends and the Nubians for a few hours, and we were all exhausted after the show was over.
The evening was settling in by this time, so we all sat down and socialized for a while. When the sun had set and the stars were out, one of Mahgda’s relatives began playing the Oudh (I have no idea how to spell that one, but it’s a stringed instrument like a banjo or guitar). We listened to music and relaxed until very late in the night. I was sitting in the grass and watching the Egyptians sing along with the Oudh player, who was himself an amazing vocalist, when I felt completely happy and at peace with where I am and what I’m doing. I just sat in the grass and fully experienced how lucky and happy I am with how things have turned out and are turning out. I only hope I remember times like these when I face my next challenge in life.
10 July 2009
08 July 2009
Typical Day in Alex
Alexandria has two weather conditions: perfect and slightly warmer than perfect. Both are characterized by a film of humidity and a cheerful breeze off the Mediterranean Sea. Most days I wake up with the sun pouring into my room. I open the French doors to my balcony that overlooks the Sea and the Cornish (the main road along the Sea); few people are out in the early hours, so the scene is more tranquil than most other times in Alexandria. I can usually see some fishermen in small boats bobbing around in the harbor and maybe a few businessmen casually catching a taxi or microbus. As the day warms up, people begin moving about the city trying to wrap up their daily errands before the real warmth of the afternoon sets in. Car horns honk and beep, and there is a constant growl of traffic from the streets below my window. As the afternoon settles in, people duck for cover and bask in any shade available. As I go about the city I have the impression that Egyptians take the afternoon to nap and relax, perhaps preparing for a long night of activities, while the foreigners seem to take the time to enjoy the many cafes along the Cornish. Evening is nearly as magical as the early hours of the morning: a strong, cool breeze fills the city and all the heat is blown away. It rushes through my hotel and removes the need for air conditioning.
This is when the city really comes alive. The streets crawl with people, the cafes are full, and children fly kites along the Sea. I enjoy walking around the streets in the evening, watching the Egyptians with their families taking a stroll along the Cornish, the teenagers goofing around before their curfew, and the various touts insisting they will “Make good price for you.” There are frequently weddings along the sea, and it’s always thrilling to see a bright-faced bride and groom surrounded with family and friends dancing in the street and blowing their car horns. The minarets pick up their call to prayer around sunset, and the city is full of their echoes. Then the mosques dotting the city fill with the observant. These areas seem to stay full of activity until after the final evening prayer. The streets stay full with women, men, and children until well after midnight, gradually emptying until the wee hours of the morning finally convince the last stragglers to return home.
This is when the city really comes alive. The streets crawl with people, the cafes are full, and children fly kites along the Sea. I enjoy walking around the streets in the evening, watching the Egyptians with their families taking a stroll along the Cornish, the teenagers goofing around before their curfew, and the various touts insisting they will “Make good price for you.” There are frequently weddings along the sea, and it’s always thrilling to see a bright-faced bride and groom surrounded with family and friends dancing in the street and blowing their car horns. The minarets pick up their call to prayer around sunset, and the city is full of their echoes. Then the mosques dotting the city fill with the observant. These areas seem to stay full of activity until after the final evening prayer. The streets stay full with women, men, and children until well after midnight, gradually emptying until the wee hours of the morning finally convince the last stragglers to return home.
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