blah blah blah

Identities are strange stuff. (Duh.) If it weren't, you know, impossible, I'd want to understand how people see themselves and their identities. Even just one other person. That would be some sort of life project. Not so that I could point out how diverse visions lead to New Feminist Possibilities or New Understandings of Agency or New Methods of Subversion that would somehow make them "okay" or "acceptable" or "suitably postmodernist" for someone from my background, but really just understand, you know? I guess that's a pretty tall order though. And I'm not entirely sure what the use would be.

If I don't end up coming back to Cairo and interning next spring, chances are I'll stay at IU and get myself a gender studies minor. But isn't it weird that that's a separate thing? That anything's a separate thing? There's fundamentally no such thing as religion without gender, no such thing as either without class, ethnicity/race, (dis)ability, nationality, age, and a whole host of other variables. But the second you acknowledge that, you find yourself looking at a web of identities so thick that it's incomprehensible. The Gordian knot of this day and age. I feel like academia (or the social sciences rather) keep getting progressively hairier—like, oh wait, we forgot to deconstruct this particular aspect of the situation at hand, let's do that too!—to the point where it almost loses all meaning and just makes my brain hurt. Or it could be that I'm just not smart enough. I don't get it.

I guess the thing that got me thinking about this is the fact that being here is the first time I've ever really not felt / been treated as white. In the states, I am an upper-middle-class midwesterner and all my friends are white and I think I'm usually considered to be the same—at the very least, I consider myself to be the same, and I don't notice others doing anything differently. White is the "default," the "non-identity" (though of course it isn't really) in the same way that upper-class is and female isn't and midwestern is and androgynous isn't—in the way that I feel my gender and my gender presentation but I don't feel my class or my region or my ethnicity.

Here it's different, of course, because white is now the "other," now a marker of something that isn't the default. And I keep expecting to be singled out for it, to feel acutely white like everyone else on the program does, and it keeps not happening, and then I realize with a jolt and a sense of unease that I'm not white, not here at least. And it's really, really weird and kind of frustrating because (as I now realize) I think I was implicitly identifying for most of my life with white as an ethnicity, and when people don't recognize/respect that identity it is as disconcerting and untrue as when they don't recognize I'm an adult or an American or a lefty or what have you. And when the others keep telling me that it's a blessing to not be singled out, I want to scream that it isn't, that the fact that I'm apparently not marginalized by this thing I now am (a brown person)  doesn't mean that I like it or identify with it, in the same way that straight privilege doesn't mean everyone wants to be straight or male privilege doesn't mean that everyone wants to be male.

I keep thinking that if it's possible to be transgender it should be equally possible to be transethnic or transage or transclass or transabled—and, is it? Are those communities/identities that people have belonged to / claimed? I should do some googling, I guess. But you get the point. I'll stop now.

ohgodonlyonemoreweekleft.

shifting seasons

It's mid-May, and when the cars and motorcycles whizz by as always there is now a palpable wave of sultry air that comes with them. At times the wind isn't caused by traffic, but even then you can feel it nearing you. It's like when you approach a lamp, or the stove, or a fire, but more all-encompassing—a rush of warmth that briefly, completely envelops you. In a weird way, it's comforting. At least until you realize it's a hundred degrees out. The policemen's uniforms have switched from navy or black to a blinding white that I guess keeps them cooler. I can't fathom the amount of bleach it must take to maintain their (lack of) color in a city like Cairo, and I'm not sure it's worth it, but either way they, too, are a sign of the fact that summer is indeed finally here, and here with a vengeance. The smell of heat, especially at night, reminds me more of India than I realized was possible.

A couple of weeks and it will be India. I'm trying hard not to resent that—trying hard to not be jealous of the people on the program who will be spending the summer here, or in Palestine—and I think I'm succeeding. I think enough things will stay the same that India, too, will be awesome: The smell of laundry drying on the balcony, for one. Also: the crowding, the noise, the heartbeat of the masses unencumbered by the sanitization that makes America so repulsive, so boring, so not something I ever want to go back to. Ha. I mean, I do, kind of. Dryers are nice. Clean air, open spaces, et cetera. But it just feels like it's lacking something. And when I'm there, so do I.

I should be devoting more time to talking-about-adventures and less to waxing-poetic-about-things but I'm sure I'll have plenty of time for that once I'm home. Right now I'm just relishing the last couple of weeks I have here, hoping I'll be back next spring, and pleading that I'll survive all the papers and projects and exams that are coming up. If I can make it to 9:00 Monday night, I'll be set. For now: good night. Summer is here and it is significantly different from not-summer. I'm sure I'll get over it soon, but for now, it is beautiful. That is all.

Woo Cairo

The countdown on the Amideast program site is ticking ticking ticking. Forty days and counting, I'd better make the best of them.

This weekend was fun. Thursday after class we traveled en masse to the village of our Arabic teachers' boss. Met his family, helped (uh, questionably) them make fteer for all of us. Which was delicious. Saw lots of little kids running everywhere. Had them tell us the Arabic names of the animals that were wandering around, that I've now forgotten. Picked strawberries and mulberries and you know, rejoiced in a life of simplicity away from the noise and anger of Cairo proper. (That last statement was kind of tongue in cheek, dunno how well tone gets conveyed here—don't want to exoticize/simplify/excessively valorize/etc. rural life, but it was a nice change of pace.)

Friday we went to the Ahly–Zamalek football/soccer game. We were Ahly fans, and wore red and got our faces painted appropriately to show it. We sat in first class with like, a super clear view of everything. Right by the field. Also a super clear view of the helmeted-and-masked policemen surrounding it. And of the less intense policemen who protected us Amurricans as we entered and left the stadium.

I don't know anything about soccer but it was super intense, was tied 2-2 for a while, Zamalek scored again real close to the end, we left to beat traffic, as we were walking out we heard the cheers etc surrounding another Ahly goal. Woo. So it was tied. And I guess you're allowed to leave it tied, apparently. So yay, or something.

Saturday I went to Khan al-Khalili again. Probably the coolest place in Cairo haha. Bought a sweet looking dagger with the shahada inscribed in the scabbard. I'm kiiiiind of a Muslim terrorist. It happens. I also really want to buy an oud but I don't know how much that would cost / how feasible that is. Hm.

Anyway yeah weekend. Ho hum classes now. Islam and Politics midterm today. As usual I'm terrible at that. Wrote the long essay and time was up. Oops. Didn't get around to the short essay. So I guess uhhh we'll see how that goes.

Speaking of Islam and Politics, we have a term paper due coming up prettttty quickly. I want to write about the idea of fitna, I think. Something about the relation between women's bodies and political bodies it creates, between chaos and seduction, and the impact this has on the creation of a feminist Muslim imaginary.

Or at least, I thought it sounded like a good idea. I asked my professor if she could like, point me in the right direction and give me some resources to start out with, though, and she was just like ... uh, no, maybe try emailing this other person? So I did, but she hasn't responded yet. Rawr. I will be grumpy if I have to change my topic. This idea makes sense, darn it! ...Right? If you are reading this and can help me out PLEASE DO. I will be eternally grateful.

Ha. Okay that's it for now. Later!

oops i forgot to give this post a title. ramblings.

Oh wow. It's been a month since I last updated. Hm. Things in Cairo have settled, I guess. Life's more ordinary than extraordinary at the moment but I suppose that's how it's supposed to be. Apparently there's a protest in Tahrir Square today, though I haven't been downtown so I don't actually know. Something related to the April 6 Youth Movement, protesting to free the people who were arrested in their protest last week, to raise wages, to push for various constitutional amendments, to generally reform the country I guess. It's a pretty intense time here politically, I think. (Although I'm not sure it's ever not.) Parliamentary elections are this year and presidential elections are next year and that's gotten people talking and advocating for reform in the system like whoa. Of course it's possible (probable) that nothing'll really come of them, that the Watany party will continue to be the waaaay dominant one and that either Mubarak or his son'll be president come 2011 but still. Not everyone's as cynical as I am I guess.

The past couple of days the police seem to have been more ubiquitous than usual though, their little street corner booths supplanted by the large boxy green vans with barred windows they have lining the streets. It's strange though to look at their faces. We rode by in our little tourbus, staring as Americans tend to, them staring back equally though which in some ways made it okay. One man in particular stood out. As we passed by one of those dark green trucks, sitting there all ominous with its caged windows and armed guards, we noticed the individual behind one of those windows, a young policeman, a grin on his face, his hand waving at the group of harmless tourists (us) passing by. Like so many little kids before him have done. And in fact, he wasn't much more than a kid. His mustache was of the variety grown by people who can't really grow a mustache yet but are too proud or excited to shave it off, a hint of a mustache, a wisp of a mustache, the sort of mustache that can only dream of one day becoming as mustachey as those mustaches sported by the middle-aged Egyptians who wander the streets (and boy do they have some inspiring mustaches). Point being, who are these people? Pretty much all the police seem his age. Seem my age, or maybe younger even. Sometimes they look sleepy, sometimes they look excited, sometimes they do pull off threatening (because lord knows the police here have wrought carnage and brutality in the past and for sure they will again) ... but yet there's an inevitable incongruity in seeing these kids with guns in their hands and uniforms on their backs. Hm.

Speaking of kids, sometimes (like today), if I walk back from school at a certain time, I pass by hordes of them also headed home for the day. They are dressed in the identical uniforms that make me sometimes wish I had gone to a private school, all navy pants and striped button-downs and the poorly tied ties that characterize elementary-schoolers allowed to dress themselves. A soccer ball deflated and ripped in half suffices nevertheless as a soccer ball for the youngest kids as they gleefully charge after it down the street. The older ones amble in groups. Either way, there exists a nice sense of community and solidarity and general happiness (the universal feeling of yay! school's over! that I guess everyone experiences) that makes me long slightly for an earlier time, and also wish I'd grown up somewhere where I could walk places instead of having to take the bus or have my parents pick me up and drop me off alllll the time.

Walking back from school, I also pass this sign:

بتحب مصر ... بتعمل ايه لمصر؟؟

Which translates to, "You love Egypt ... What do you do for Egypt??"

These billboards are everywhere, prodding, interrogating, asking why exactly it is I love Egypt and what purpose that love serves. They're good questions, and the fact that they're advertisements for the Bank of Alexandria doesn't change that. Why do I love Egypt? Or, I love Egypt, but what do I do for it?

I come here, I study, I party, I leave. I fall in love with Egypt as an outsider, as someone for whom the grass is and will always be greener on the other side. I love it because of the dirt, the za7ma, the noise, the feeling of being alive that these things produce. The feeling of being swallowed. The feeling that you are part of something larger than yourself, the feeling that's not really to be found in midwestern college towns no matter how hard you try. But what of the people who were born here, who live here, who can't get out of here? For them Cairo is as stifling—more so, no doubt—than America, that land of blue skies and endless opportunities. It's ironic how the American dream has produced a generation of youth who want nothing more than to leave the country, and has given them (us) the sense of entitlement that allows them (us) to do so and market it as something "courageous" or "enriching" and not just a luxury that they (we) inevitably take for granted. By mere virtue of travel, of being here, you are in some way proclaiming your superiority. And the fact that you're not really doing anything other than selfishly falling in love only heightens that. At the same time, trying to "help" Egypt in any way would also reinforce your status as an outsider who thinks they have more status/power than native Egyptians. It's a Catch-22 I guess. Blah.

Hm. In other news, I guess in the past month I've traveled to the Black and White Desert (which was beautiful), and to Alex, which was also cool I guess. We had a week of spring break, but I just stayed here and tried to catch up (at least somewhat) on work for my research mentor back home. We had field trips for my IR class to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the Egyptian Council for Foreign Affairs, which were fascinating. Basically listened to important people talk about Israel/Palestine. And of course claaaaaasses. For MSA today we read this really great poem by Mahmoud Darwish, a Palestinian poet. Here's the first stanza:

على هذه الارض ما يستحق الحياة:
تردد ابريل
رائحة الخبز في الفجر
آراء امراة في الرجال
كتابات اسخيليوس
اول الحب
عشب على حجر
امهات تقفن على خيط ناي
وخوف الغزاة من الذكريات

Which translates (I think) as:

On this earth what makes life worth living:

The coming of April

The smell of bread at dawn

Women's opinions of men

The writings of Aeschylus

First love

Moss on a stone

[uhh something i don't know what it means]

And the occupier's fear of memories

Ummmmm it sounds better in Arabic. But you get the drift. Cool cool.

Annnnnnyway I should really be doing homework. So, peace. Just figured I should (finally) update this...

Gender Sucks.

I'm sorry, but it had to be said. My personal experiences and aversion to categorization aside. Seriously. Gender sucks.

I can't speak to the Egyptian perspective. I'm not sure how harassment is different for Egyptian women than it is for American women. But all I can say is this: The strength of character required to be a woman here, maybe to be a foreign woman here in particular, is astounding. I applaud and respect those who have that, but I am also so so SO horrified and outraged that it's a necessity. I love Egypt. I love the streets of Egypt. However, I do not love—and I hate that I am forced to tolerate—the day in day out comments and worse my female classmates receive.

My experiences here are not theirs, do not hold a candle to theirs in terms of difficulty or frustration. I am a boy here, maybe even an Egyptian boy at first glance (though eventually the exclamations of "India!" and "Amitabh Bachchan!" win out). Parents? Sorry, but that's the way it is. People don't "mistake" me for a guy, they interpret me as a guy, and I am fine with that, and it's not a problem or cause for worry.

What is a cause for worry is the never-ending harassment the girls get. From the ceaseless "Oh my god!" "Fantastic!" "My future wife!"-type exclamations, to the being-followed-home-by-random-men, to the actual grabbing and being pulled into a doorway (that eventually ended with going to the police, a more or less farcical bureaucratic fiasco in and of itself), it's astounding any of the girls put up with it, and it's no wonder the more benign comments of "welcome!" or "spice girls!" are as a result also treated with suspicion. I have no idea if any of them will be able to maintain a neutral much less positive attitude toward Cairo as a place, and that saddens me.

This nonsense needs. to. change. Interpret it how you like. Men feel a lack of economic power and so they express their autonomy by subjugating women? I call BS. Everyone feels weak. That's one of the parts of life that is hard and uncomfortable, and that doesn't just hold true for financially impoverished men. Feeling weak is oppressive. Feeling weak is shameful, yeah, I know. However, feeling weak is not grounds to hurt others. And those calls? That they find funny, or empowering? They hurt. They hurt the people they're directed at and they hurt me as someone who desperately wants to love Cairo, who desperately wants to love its people, but who cannot love what all too often seems like a majority of its men, cannot even respect them.

There's a weird sense of survivor's guilt that comes with not being a girl here, and there's the frustration of not being able to do anything to help the others. Less than a week ago I wrote about not understanding the strength of the male-female divide and the comfort for women that came with gender segregation. I fear I understand now, and that sickens me so much.

Lord help me if I ever become a part of the patriarchy.

I can only hope that one day, for example, a guy in the girls' bathroom will be as negligible a threat as a girl in the guys' bathroom (though of course I hope for gender neutral bathrooms blah blah blah). Because no group of people should automatically be viewed as a threat, and no individual actors should behave in ways that enforce the perceptions that lead to that. It works both ways. And it boils down to KINDNESS and RESPECT and that's it. In the end, I can only hope that everyone, everyone, is respected and given their due as a human being. (Including animals, actually.) Is that really too much to ask?

Sorry to rant, but it had to be done. Cairo? For your own sake, change this. You want honor? You want pride? You want agency? You want power? You want respect? Change this.

Sigh. Anyway, interesting idea for a future project: become fluent in Arabic, wander around Khan el-Khalili with girl friends, question/record every single dude who says or does anything to them (good as well as bad things) about why he said/did that, compile answers, see if themes emerge and how said themes can be addressed. I'm sure people have already done this, though, right? Hm.

Wedding and Happiness are the Same Word

Just posted Siwa Part Two below, and Siwa Part Three is coming soon, I swear. But until then, chew on this, and possibly another gender-related post to follow:

At times you can feel the novelty of being here slough off like dead skin after a sunburn. (...let me if that's not an accurate simile.) You get tired of people thinking you're fourteen. You get increasingly wary of gender-segregated spaces. You get more and more frustrated by your failure to comprehend Arabic and your inability to figure out the best way to direct a taxi driver from your apartment to school. You can feel your identities shifting and that's a weird thing and you're not sure if you're okay with it. And Cairo? Cairo is exhausting.

But then there are times like last night when none of that matters.

So our friend Mahmoud (an Egyptian who does theater and modern dance and is generally awesome) told us his friends were having a wedding party in the streets and that it would be cool and we should go with him. After a little bit of reluctance—in retrospect, I have no idea why that was—we agreed. The group of us, which now included a bunch of Americans on the program, Mahmoud, and a couple of members of the Egyptian handball team (who I guess we met at a party and started hanging out with...?), headed a metro stop over, walked across a bridge, and ended up at this awesome street party. Music, dancing, et cetera. It was super cool. Then we were invited upstairs and given apple juice, hung out, chatted, were generally happy.

A bit later, it was decided that the [two recognized] genders needed to split up, and the guys headed back downstairs. After some waffling I decided to stay upstairs.

I felt a little guilty about it at first. The only reason I was claiming this exclusively female gender identity was out of some personal/anthropological curiosity about what exactly would go down in the absence of a perceived male gaze. I'm sure stuff like this is a hard enough moral dilemma for actual anthropologists, who have a real goal of increasing cultural awareness and such. For me though, it was almost shamefully disingenuous: I was staying to satisfy nothing more than my own voyeuristic curiosity.

At the same time, it ended up being really easy and comfortable and accepting, surprisingly so. As soon as I was like, "I'm a girl," there was no awkward questioning, no skepticism, no disparagement or confusion on the part of the Egyptian women—just a quick oops sorry, and then things were totally cool. They were perfect and gracious and really fun. I mean asserting an identity like that in and of itself is a little weird and uncomfortable, because ... I dunno, I like letting people believe whatever they initially read me as. Chances are I am everything they believe me to be and more. But whatever, because after that initial step, it was a really really awesome night. And the cultural observer in me was more than intrigued.

The men left but the kids stayed regardless of gender, a cohort of little boys and girls running around, dancing, playing, being fun. The second my camera came out they would not leave it/me alone, constantly wanting pictures taken of every imaginable combination of people making every imaginable combination of facial expressions and body language. Their giddiness was contagious.

The women were dancing too, and the sense of community in the room was just so palpable. There was so much happiness and warmth and trust that you don't usually get to see. And of course there were plenty of other things you don't usually get to see. For example, hair. Hijabs were stripped off; niqabs were lifted and burqas were hitched up to reveal skinny jeans and heels, eye makeup and smiles and smiles. I realized that night that never when passing a woman in a niqab on the street had I envisioned a smile under her veil. Stupid of me. That has now changed.

Anyway, that party was just a really interesting social situation, and one I'm grateful I was allowed to participate in.

Of course, it leads to some serious pondering: Why is the presence of men so oppressive here, why does it prevent an atmosphere of trust and openness like this? How can an entire gender of people be othered like that, be constantly perceived as a threat? How can gender segregation make these women so comfortable and at ease, when for people from my background the same thing is kind of weird and uncomfortable, disconcertingly homogeneous in a way? Plenty of other questions emerge, of course, but those were the biggies I think. Anyway, yeah. Food for thought. And a good time. Perfect :)

Siwa, Part Two

Sorry! Not sure why I didn't post this earlier. Um. I was going to embed photos, but that's a lot of work, so I suggest you just follow along at my flickr. Sound good? Okay thanks.

So Friday morning we headed out to see the ancient sites in Siwa. Cool cool. Also saw lots of villagers, donkeys, et cetera. Anyway, we bounced from place to place as follows.

(1) The Old City of Shali, and its mosque. I guess nowadays the city is used only three days a year, during the full moon in October or something like that, for tribal gatherings/reconciliations maybe? I could be way off … it’s SO HARD to remember all the information they give us :/ … um, also the guy either said the mosque was in use until recently or is still in use. Not sure. Either way, cool.

(2) House of Siwa Museum. Basically a model of old Siwan houses/life. We were shown traditional clothing, jewelry, other stuff. The guy spoke in Arabic and Dr. Randa translated, but I could understand an encouraging amount of what he was saying, so that was nice. Also, hey Mom and Dad --- does the oven remind you of the scary fiery water heater thing that used to be in Paati and Paata’s old large bathroom downstairs? Because that’s definitely the first thing I thought of…

(3) Gebl al-Mawta (Mountain of the Dead), a huuuuuge burial site. Just, tombs and tombs and tombs everywhere. (One of which Dr. Randa fell into, haaaahahaha. That maaaaay have made the trip.) But also there were just bones, everywhere, which was fascinating in a kind of creepy/awesome way. Like bits and pieces of human skeletons everywhere. Seriously. Probably the coolest thing we saw Friday. I maaaay have thefted a couple of small bones. I'm probably cursed. Oh well!

(4) Lunch! Mmmmm. Oh I forgot to mention the people here are Amazigh (Berber in non-PC terms) and speak a dialect of Amazigh they refer to as Siwi. Cool cool. That combined with eating couscous for lunch was very reminiscent of our Sahara trip in Morocco, which, heart. Only as you’ll see later (Saturday), this journey to the desert was maybe a little crazier.

(5) Temple of the Oracle. The oracle here was a statue rather than a person that moved left or right and answered only yes or no questions, I guess. Weird. But apparently it was pretty famous and Alexander the Great visited here and everything. Neat.

(6) Temple of Amun (Umm Ubayd). Not sure what this was, really. We only stopped briefly. Most of it’s not there anymore because someone decided he wanted the stairs for his house and tore most of it down.

(7) Cleopatra’s Bath. Supposedly Alexander swam here. Dr. Randa was super enthusiastic about going back to the hotel to get bathing suits and then returning to swim here haha. More so than any of the students. However, upon returning to the hotel people decided they’d rather just swim there than return to Cleopatra’s Bath … so they did. And hung out with random cats, et cetera. Y’know. Lounged around.

Then, shortly afterwards, we headed to (8), Lake Siwa. Basically just sat by the lake and watched the sunset, but it was one of the most beautiful, peaceful things ever. Pictures are better than words here…but yeah. Wow. After that, we came back to the hotel for dinner, which was delicious, and hung out by a fire and drank tea and chatted and listened to music. Also wonderful.

So that was Friday. <3. Great day.

Siwa, Part One

The following was written Saturday evening.

What a crazy weekend. Wow. I’ll update you on older stuff later, I know I haven’t written in forever, but … amazing. My eyes and ears are gritty with sand and parts of me are soaked from, um, falling in a lake. BUT. What an unbelievable experience. I’ll divide it into parts because I don’t think I’ve ever done this much stuff in one weekend before. Anyway, though, let’s start at the beginning….

Thursday morning, 7:30 am, I received a mass text from Matthew saying he hoped we were all awake, as our bus was leaving at 8. Oops. Somehow my intended 7-9 pm nap had turned into 12+ hours of sleep, and as such my alarm wasn’t set. So I woke up groggily and slightly panicked, took a shower, and hastily packed up a weekend’s worth of clothes, plus my camera and laptop and iPod and phone and all of the corresponding chargers, and headed out the door, reaching the bus at 8:10. So I almost made it on time…

Luckily they didn’t leave me behind, and Dr. Randa—the Egyptology professor who accompanies us on most of our historical outings and such—wasn’t there yet anyways so it wasn’t a problem. In a few minutes she arrived though, and thus began a twelve-hour bus ride to Siwa, a desert oasis and historical site in Egypt. So that was … something. Mostly I just slept and listened to music and ate delicious peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches and chips and drank a number of juice boxes in flavors like peach and pear and piña colada and other wonderful combinations that are sadly unavailable in the states. Oh, and also visited a bunch of shady rest stops and observed a lot of adorable animals.

Also on the way there we stopped at El Alamein memorial and museum. El Alamein was I guess a decisive battle in WWII where I think the Allies defeated General Rommel (aka The Desert Fox) and maybe changed the tide of the war? Something like that. I don’t think I actually realized that WWII extended all the way to Egypt before, but apparently it did. Oops. I am bad at knowing history. Anyway, the memorial for the Commonwealth soldiers was really beautiful:

 

  

  

 

And after that we stopped at the El Alamein museum, where they had old tanks and stuff. Also, it overlooked the Mediterranean, I think. Cool cool. They also had wax figurines of various soldiers, which were super creepy/cool, but I didn’t take any pictures of them. Oops.

 

 

After forever, and getting somewhat lost, we finally arrived at our hotel in Siwa. The rooms were simple but nice and had electricity and [kind of sulfurous] running water alhumdulillah. No internet haha, which … I can’t even REMEMBER the last time I went more than a few hours without internet, so that was a little crazy. Probably for the better, though. Definitely for the better. The campus or whatever it’s called … just, the grounds of the hotel were really beautiful. Trees and pools surrounding the hut-like rooms. Very serene. But yeah, Thursday all we did was eat dinner at the hotel and then crash. Which was fine with me. The real adventures began Friday and Saturday…

Pondering

You go through life and leave pieces of your heart all over the world, if you're lucky. In the form of memories, in the form of friends, in the form of fleeting instances of happiness that will never be relived but will be added to your growing pile of such experiences that you can dig through at any time. The hard part is coming to terms with the fact that all these parts of you remain discrete. That you can't be in Bloomington and Tangier and San Francisco and Cairo and India all at once, can't be with your nerd friends and your family and your Arab friends and your queer friends (who would magically all get along), all together and rolled into one crazy awesome party in all of the aforementioned places. I realize that innumerable moral dilemmas are averted by virtue of time's unidirectionality—there is currently no threat of future!me killing past!me, for instance—but at the same time it's sometimes just like ... really? Really I can't whimsically mix and match people and places until I hit perfection? Where is my personal Great American Melting Pot, and can you smell the fondue burning?

Three weeks I've been in Cairo and it hurts to think that one sixth of my time here is finished, khalas, gone. The weather is suddenly hotter and I just finished my fourth and last bottle of exotically-flavored soda (ha). Fanta wildberry, Fanta apple, Mirinda pineapple, Mirinda hibiscus and now that they're all gone I feel like I'm come full circle in some way.

I'm so over the US and I love it here—cannot stress enough how much I love it here—but every now and then there's a twinge of, if only the one working elevator went to all the floors instead of just the odd ones. If only I could walk around outside for a couple of hours without ending up covered in grime. If only I could understand it when people spoke to me. A series of ifonlies that would probably be longer if I were still in America, I guess. And really the hardest thing is being in Arabia without my friends from Morocco last summer. Overall it's wonderful, but it would be unimaginably better if they were here too.

Anyway, yeah. Time time time. In other news, happy Valentine's day to all:

I'll post a real entry soon inshallah -- we went to Islamic Cairo, saw a bunch of architecture, it was really cool. Will update you on that ASAP.

book fair et cetera

I feel like I'm somehow caught in a trap of writing blog posts that sound disinterested and unenthusiastic and melancholy even though that's totally not the mood I'm trying to convey. Sorry about that. In case I haven't said it enough: I'm in Cairo! It's super exciting! I'm in a big city instead of a college town! I'm in Arabia instead of Amurrica! There's great food and great people and really what more can you ask for in life? So yeah. Things are busy and awesome and yay. Case in point:

So apparently there's this crazy book fair that happens in Cairo each year. Yesterday after class, me and some of the Egyptian students whom I had met earlier went to that. It was pretty far from Dokki, and huuuuuge, so we ended up wandering around there for hours. I mean, you know how I am with bookstores, haha, and this was about a million of them put together. It was really exciting. My research mentor back home (for whom I'm technically supposed to be doing 8-10 hours of work a week right now ... oops ... will get on that) wants to do a project on representations of the Prophet Muhammad in Islamic children's books. Fascinating, right? So I bought a ton of قصص نبوية to look over and read, and inshallah there'll be some interesting visual themes that emerge. That's the goal, at least.

There were lots of other books too, of course, and of course I wanted to buy them all, but I was short on cash and settled for a book of Darwish's poetry rather than translations of Harry Potter and Tintin, which I also desperately wanted to buy. Maybe I can go back sometime. Not sure when it ends. Should figure that out.

But yeah, it was a fun day :) Photos:

Us.

Requisite photo of Michelle Obama, I guess.












Tents and tents of books.
Which is to say: Paradise.

Again with the puppets!
Why do they seem to be this
semester's recurring theme?

Stacks of used American textbooks.
3 LE apiece.
Remember those math and lit books, anyone?!



Anyway, after that, we headed back to Amideast for movie night, and watched The Yacoubian Building. It's in Arabic (with English subtitles), based on a novel by an Egyptian author/dentist who apparently lives near one of our program directors. Anyway, it was a realllly good movie. I mean, a little traumatizing. One of the more depressing statements on the human condition that I've recently encountered. But I really want to see it again, soon. Hm. You should too!

Okay that's it for now. Later!

two things

(1) I'm a little scared that this is turning out to be waaaay too similar to Argentina for comfort in a certain respect. Not sure who's reading this so I won't elaborate, but you know what I mean. Cough cough Diego. Et cetera. :/ Haha oh well I'll deal.

(2) Has everyone read "Dreamland," by Poe? If not, you should. It's been in my head a lot recently. I'm posting the full text here in the hopes that you'll read it. My tastes in literature tend to veer towards the morbid so don't overthink the connection between the poem and the Cairo experience. Don't worry it's not hellish or creepy or dark here. What seemed relevant was just, you know, the vague ideas about traveling and not really comprehending one's surroundings and stuff like that. Anyway, read on:

By a route obscure and lonely,
Haunted by ill angels only,
Where an Eidolon, named NIGHT,
On a black throne reigns upright,
I have reached these lands but newly
From an ultimate dim Thule—
From a wild clime that lieth, sublime,
Out of SPACE—out of TIME.

Bottomless vales and boundless floods,
And chasms, and caves, and Titan woods,
With forms that no man can discover
For the tears that drip all over;
Mountains toppling evermore
Into seas without a shore;
Seas that restlessly aspire,
Surging, unto skies of fire;
Lakes that endlessly outspread
Their lone waters—lone and dead,—
Their still waters—still and chilly
With the snows of the lolling lily.

By the lakes that thus outspread
Their lone waters, lone and dead,—
Their sad waters, sad and chilly
With the snows of the lolling lily,—
By the mountains—near the river
Murmuring lowly, murmuring ever,—
By the grey woods,—by the swamp
Where the toad and the newt encamp—
By the dismal tarns and pools
Where dwell the Ghouls,—
By each spot the most unholy—
In each nook most melancholy—
There the traveller meets aghast
Sheeted Memories of the Past—
Shrouded forms that start and sigh
As they pass the wanderer by—
White-robed forms of friends long given,
In agony, to the Earth—and Heaven.

For the heart whose woes are legion
'Tis a peaceful, soothing region—
For the spirit that walks in shadow
'Tis—oh, 'tis an Eldorado!
But the traveller, travelling through it,
May not—dare not openly view it!
Never its mysteries are exposed
To the weak human eye unclosed;
So wills its King, who hath forbid
The uplifting of the fringed lid;
And thus the sad Soul that here passes
Beholds it but through darkened glasses.

By a route obscure and lonely,
Haunted by ill angels only,
Where an Eidolon, named NIGHT,
On a black throne reigns upright,
I have wandered home but newly
From this ultimate dim Thule.

Awesome, right?? Okay that's all I wanted to share! Night :)

story time!

What with doing things and writing about doing things (and sleeping), it seems like I hardly have time for anything else. Oops. This is maybe a little too addictive. Oh well, carrying on...the weekend was pretty fun. Let me tell you about it in excruciating detail!

Wednesday:

Went to the lecture I mentioned last post. It was this Imam, I guess, and his wife, talking about ameliorating relations between Islam and the West. It was in English and mostly not that interesting—the wife especially seemed unable to focus on anything other than her own life story ("It all started one dark Friday the thirteenth in Kashmir"), but the cool part was that we got headphones through which we could hear someone translating into Arabic, and while I couldn't get all of it, and hearing the English certainly helped, I was still surprised by how much I could understand of what they were saying in Arabic translation—like, most of it was straight up Al-Kitaab MSA (!). So that was cool. Walked back with Matthew and chatted about gay identities (or lack thereof) in the Middle East—also cool. Did lots of Arabic homework—less cool. But you know. Classes.

Thursday:

So I had really wanted to go to an Umm Kulthoum-themed puppet show (!!!) in Zamalek. This was largely because of the Pop Culture in the Middle East class I took last semester—I have probably read/watched waaaay more than is necessary about Umm Kulthoum and ideas of modernist/nationalist discourses and Egyptian authenticity. But also because, dude. Puppets singing "Inta Omri," can you imagine?! Awesome.

Anyway, I tried to get other students to go with me, but they all offered lame excuses like, "Puppets freak me out." Haha. Or they didn't know/care who Umm Kulthoum was which, um, is that allowed in Egypt? Even for our generation? Dunno.

Anyway, I texted Matthew being all needy, like, "come with me!" and while that didn't happen, he ended up hooking me up with a couple of his friends who were planning to go. Only turns out they were planning to go to a DIFFERENT puppet show. Like seriously? How many of those are there on one night? But I guess puppets are puppets, and puppets are exciting, so we traipsed over to the puppet theater and attempted to buy tickets, only they were SOLD OUT. Really? I never thought puppetry was really a huge thing in Cairo, but now I'm starting to wonder...

Anyway, we pretended to be clueless tourists, we don't speak Arabic, can we please just go in for five minutes to see?, etc. So they let us in without tickets, and we watched the first ten minutes of the show, and then they made us leave. It was fun. Something about dreams (أحلام), I dunno. Couldn't understand most of it, but I swear to god one of the songs they did sounded exaaaaactly like this other song I know (also because of that pop culture class I mentioned). Aside from the lyrics I mean. See for yourself. I don't think I'm making this up...

 (stage)







Anyway, after getting kicked out, we got koshari at this, I kid you not, five-story, neon-lit place with a pond and fake ducks inside. It was a little crazy. And a lot delicious. Om nom Egyptian food. I am going to miss this.








(Abu Tarek koshari)










After that we went to a shisha/coffee place and observed firsthand generational/class differences:















I love how the old guy with the amazing combover and his dice-game-playing partner are right next to the two young dudes with a laptop and bluetooth earpieces or whatever they're called. Like really? I mean cool I guess.

After that, went back home, then headed out to a bar/club with some of the girls on the program and their random rich boy Egyptian friends, who handily covered the cost of the night. Really the thing that made me happiest was that they played Cheb Khaled and Lady Gaga practically back to back. Haha. Yay. I thought I was the only person who would ever do that.

So anyway, that was Thursday.

Friday-Sunday:

Slept most of the day Friday as I always do on weekends. Lazed around. Uploaded photos to Facebook. Et cetera. It was one of the girls' birthdays so we went and got sushi for dinner at the hotel across the street, then went back to her place for cake. That was delicious. Later went to a house party with some girls studying abroad at AUC that one of the guys on the program is friends with. So that was ... something. It was super far away and took forever for the taxi driver to find, and by the time we were halfway to the tenth floor (the elevator was broken) we could hear the frat boys and smell the beer. Like, really, Americans? Really this is how you have to comport yourselves? So mostly it was just obnoxious.

Also obnoxious is how I invariably get read as like, a fourteen year old boy. This one dude at the party took it upon himself to approach me at least five times asking how old I was, when I was born, if I had an ID to prove it. Like for real? I mean I guess I could have whipped out my license and been all, "what do you have to say to THAT?" but it would probably have just created more problems than it would've solved because I look like a girl there. Meh.

Anyway, it was an adventure I guess. There were seven of us and on the way back we all piled into one taxi because they seemed really sparse. Like, we were glad to find even one. So that was fun. Thankfully they don't have that stupid rule like in Morocco where you can only have three passengers in a cab. (Still can't believe they actually enforced that.) So yeah, five in the back, two in the passenger seat, worked out totally fine, made it back in one piece. Go us.

Slept lots more on Saturday, went and bought notebooks, ate lots of deliiiiiiicious Chinese food (!!!!), did a bunch of homework, the end.

Went to classes today, there's a lecture on modern Egyptian history later that should be good, then more homework/reading.

Woo Egypt.

Sondheim Solves Everything

Seriously, who else do I ever turn to to explain life in meaningful, rhyming, clever, everything-would-be-perfect-if-only-I-could-write-lyrics-that-well terms?

The song on my mind today is "Sorry-Grateful" from the musical Company, one bit in particular:

Everything's different; nothing's changed...
Only maybe slightly rearranged.

You're sorry-grateful, regretful-happy,
why look for answers where none occur?
You'll always be what you always were,
which has nothing to do with—all to do with her.

I can only assume that the "her" in this case is Cairo—though lord knows it's been other hers before—and while the song and show are technically about the uncertain happiness surrounding marriage (ew), really that same idea can transfer to any human experience ever I think. Just the way in which experiences affect you and your identity/identities and shape you into the person you would probably be anyway except somehow, subtlely, totally different. Does that make sense? I just really love that last couplet. The whole song really.

Anyway, my point here (which I promise I'll get to) is not that I'm sorry or regretful to be in Cairo, and maybe Sorry-Grateful's a bit too melancholy to be entirely appropriate right now. ('Cause like, dude! I'm in Cairo!) But what's currently most important is the "everything's different; nothing's changed" part. Sometimes I forget how life is always life. How I always have classes, how I always have homework, how I'm always bad at going to sleep at a reasonable time and at waking up in the morning, how I'm always liable to catch colds at inopportune times. How I always put off doing laundry for far longer than I should. How there's always an awesome lunch place down the street that I always go to between classes. How there're always people around me who I really do like. How nothing central to the human condition ever actually changes.

So I drink Fanta apple (!) instead of apple juice, so I eat koshari instead of burritos and ful instead of peanut butter, so I walk down city streets instead of across campus. Life is still the same and that's not a bad thing that's a great thing, I think. Because the little things that change, the things that make it seem so different, also make everything wonderful and exciting and new and happy, but the big things being the same is what keeps you sane. Or something like that. Makes you realize that humanity is humanity.

(...Although, really? Classes already? At eight am? Seriously? Haha. Oh wellllll.)

Sorry for being rambly and philosophical, I thought I had something to say but maybe not.

But yeah, the past few days have just been the start of classes, the start of homework. Buying books, reading papers, forgetting to do homework, deciding which classes to take. My final schedule is as follows, though, I think:

 

So that should be good. MSA's going to be crazy intense. I should probably be doing homework for that right now, actually...oh well. 'Amiyya and media Arabic will probably be pretty laid back and vocab-y, though, maybe balance that out. Inshallah. And I'm super excited for both of the content courses despite their awkward timing and slightly intimidating workloads. So I'll let you know how they go once the semester's underway. Because I'm sure you all care SO MUCH. Seriously though. I'm betting they'll be rull cool.

I guess the IR professor (who has a Wikipedia page) is like, a member of the Shura council, which, what?! I mean I think he was appointed, not elected, but still. Like where are we, how is this real? During the first lecture, he was all, "oh yeah, and then the president of Iran invited me to give a talk there..." and it was just ... seriously? Seriously you're our professor? So it seemed pretty cool, he totally knew what he was talking about, plenty organized, et cetera. And while some of the other people here know a lot about modern history/politics, the formation of the Middle East and so on, I definitely don't. So I think I'm going to learn a lot from this class. Yay.

Also, Islam and Politics. We'll see how that one goes. It's a different professor for the first two weeks than for the rest of the semester—the former is I think a religious scholar at al-Azhar, whereas as far as I know the latter is ... I don't know, a normal academic. (Haha. Sorry, I'm a bad person. I just mean like an ostensibly-secular/neutral political scientist or something. Haven't actually met her yet so maybe not. Dunno.) Anyway, the first lecture was just basic early Islamic history—which is to say, the same first lecture as every Islam class ever—which was fine; the second was an overview of the importance of shari'a and fiqh and stuff like that. Also fine, aside from what I think were a lot of made-up statistics, but I'm still waiting for the course to hit its stride so we'll see. I'm excited. I mean this is kind of what I live for you know? This is my class. Islam and Politics. Bring it on.

Anyway I reeeeally should go do homework. (grumble grumble procrastination.) We're meeting later to go to a lecture/discussion that sounds like it should be pretty cool, so I'll keep y'all updated on that but that means fus7a-ing it up now. Mmmmmmm al-Kitaab. But yay Cairo!

Okay homework time go.

Life is weird.

I swear, the longer I'm around people, the less I understand them. I'm not trying to complain or be judgmental, not at all. It's just strange. I don't think of myself as a brave person, or an adventurous one, or a strong or fearless one. Quite the opposite—I very frequently find myself to be paranoid, terrified, anxious, weak. But my fears seem so not akin to those of my roommates or of the three other girls on the program who live in the apartment across the street. And maybe it's just that I'm often perceived as an Indian boy rather than an American girl, or that I've been abroad a few times before, or that I've taken more Arabic, and maybe in fact I am having a completely different experience in Cairo than they are because of those things. Who knows. But people keep making statements like they wouldn't feel comfortable walking down the street by themselves, or they assume that random men who followed them for a bit are going to be waiting outside the apartment to attack them later, or they're freaked out by letting the doorman and a couple of potential buyers look around the apartment, or they're uncomfortable sitting in the passenger seat of a taxi, or they're uncomfortable hailing a non-metered taxi, or ... just, that sort of thing, you know? And on the flip side of the fear that I don't share is their level of tense enthusiasm, which I also can't match. How everyone was SO PSYCHED to ride a camel and see the pyramids, or SO OVERWHELMED by wandering around the souq, or SO TERRIFIED of crossing the street. It just feels like I'm having an entirely, irreconcilably different experience here than any of them, and it's weird and a little isolating. Am I missing out on something? I don't know. Oh well.

Maybe this is part of why I'm more drawn to the program directors/staff/faculty than to the other students? Maybe. Among other things. But we'll see. Ughhhhh classes start at 8:10 tomorrow morning. Good night.

Wait, Egypt?

We headed west as a group to the Giza pyramids today. Saw them. Saw the Sphinx. One of the Egyptology professors talked us through it, like a tour or whatever. It was pretty cool. Also, sandy. Rode camels for a bit. I'm pretty much a pro at that by now. So yeah. It was crazy. I keep forgetting that Egypt is more than like, modern-middle-east home-of-pan-arabism-and-umm-kulthoum, you know? And even when I think of it historically, it's like, oh, Islam, Fatimids, Mamluks, et cetera. I forget that it has all this ancient history. It's weird to think about. It's weird to think that there's THAT MUCH history in one place, if that makes sense. And it's equally weird how close that ancient history is to the noise and modernity of this huge amazing city. Just, wow, you know? I'm lazy/tired, so check out the photos on my flickr.

Photos

I know, I know, I need these. I'll try, when relevant, to include inline photos in future posts. For now, though, just check out the flickr, okay? Thanks guys. Sorry about that.

Losing and Winning

Yesterday was our last day of orientation. After survival Arabic, we were divvied up into teams of two or three to participate in "Cairo Amazing Race"—y'know, like the TV show. This involved traveling to various places in the city and asking people questions, more or less. We went to Cairo University, where a Ph.D. history student showed us the auditorium in which Obama gave his speech this summer. We found the train station, the post office. We bought sweets and newspapers and huddled in the shadow of the Mugamm'a, in awe of the Soviet-inspired architecture of this Building of Bureaucratic Doom. We familiarized ourselves with the metro system and with Egyptian currency, got hooked by savvy storeowners looking to make a few pounds off the naive Americans, located the opera house, circled Tahrir square. We ate koshari and drank Fanta blackcurrant and learned how to say "swiss roll" in Arabic (hint: the answer is "sweeeees rooool").

Which is to say: a fun but incredibly tiring day. Our team, the second to make it back to AMIDEAST HQ in Dokki, did not end up winning. But there will be a next time inshallah. And then? Then we will triumph.

After the points were tallied and the game was over, exhaustion set in. Alas, Thursday night was not meant to be one of tranquility. 9:30ish saw the start of the Africa Cup semifinals, Egypt versus Algeria. We sat in a hotel and watched the game, the score slowly climbing to 4-0 Egypt, the passionate cries of "awya!" and "wallah!" growing in intensity each time something good happened. (As you can tell, my knowledge of soccer is super impressive.) Of course we got flags painted on our faces. Of course we wandered the streets afterwards, reveling in the processions of cars and two-wheelers and pedestrians with waving flags and blaring horns and occasional fireworks. So, you know, go Masr. Finals on Sunday against Ghana.

Today, I woke up in the afternoon and headed with two of the girls on the program to Khan El-Khalili, the enormous souq that's right across from old/Islamic Cairo. Took a taxi for the first time and overpaid but whatever. It took us a while to find the crowded/awesome part of the souq that sold everything from shishas to lingerie to enormous stuffed animals to tacky touristy t-shirts that had colorful hieroglyphics on them and were printed with your choice of either EGYPT or OBAMA. (I know, I know … but I couldn't help but buy one of the latter.) Also saw some sweet architecture there, lots of minarets etc., but wasn't quite sure what/where anything was. Regardless, I'm sure I'll go back.

After that, we grabbed a taxi back home. I chatted with the driver, Saeed, in Arabic a little (!) which made me suuuuper happy. It was just simple stuff—he asked my name, whether I was here as a tourist or a student; I asked him where we were at one point when we seemed to be in the middle of nowhere and he explained that we were avoiding traffic (although I think we actually took a waaaay longer route than was necessary). He also said a few things I didn't understand, but still. It was nice. Exhilarating, even. I'm so happy I can actually use Arabic, even if it's only a little bit. It helps that I know more than the other kids, I think, because I'm forced to step up and be the Arabic-speaker of the group, if that makes sense. So yay. He had the Qur'an playing in the taxi and occasionally recited along with it. I paid him the same amount I had paid the first guy, too much, even though he didn't ask for it, because yaaaaaay Arabic. Dunno if that was his goal but who cares.

I am happy.

Orientation Week

Man it's been busy, what with orientating and all. Hard to believe we've been here five days already. Over 1/32 of my time in Cairo is gone gone gone and it makes me sad.

That said, things are going pretty awesome for now. Matthew and Nadia—the Americans who run the program—are like the coolest. people. ever., as are all the Egyptian Arabic instructors. Everyone's really young and funny and sweet and helpful beyond belief, and it's great. I am so so so impressed with the AMIDEAST program thus far. I mean, I was impressed by it on paper when I looked it up before applying, but it has just surpassed my expectations in the best of ways.

Um my memories of the past week are becoming muddled so I'd better hurry up and write stuff down. One of the days of orientation, we met most of the actual professors for the content courses, and while they seem interesting they're also more aloof and professorial and english-speaking than the Arabic instructors, which is not super fun. Classes haven't started yet, but I might switch from international relations to media arabic during the first week if the teacher turns out to be significantly awesomer. We'll see.

Anyway, for the past couple of days we've had a couple of hours a day of survival colloquial Arabic (hereafter known as 'amiyya) which has been really helpful. For the first time in a long time I feel like I'm Actually Learning Arabic. It's a good—great—*amazing*—feeling, and reminds me of why I wanted to learn the language in the first place.

What else has been going on? Aside from survival 'amiyya classes and various lectures about academics, intercultural learning, gender issues, etc., we also had the opportunity yesterday to mingle with a group of Egyptian students that AMIDEAST works with. It was great—mixing English and Arabic, very low awkward level because of the organized group setting, etc. Later on in the semester we might buddy up with them to do a language-partners type thing. Inshallah it'll be helpful and fun, I see no reason why it shouldn't be. Hopefully we get to hang out with some of the people we met before then, though. Cool cool.

Really the only awkward thing about that whole situation was telling people I was a religious studies major, because they assumed I knew more than I do, or that I had taken a ton of classes, or something (I've taken six, all either intro courses or stuff to do with christianity+gender+american politics), and were asking me confusing questions about my opinions of Islam that I tried to answer but couldn't seem to do, at least not in a manner that was satisfactory to them. It was just like, ok, I'm not really prepared to do this. And one of them was a theology student at al-Azhar which made it all the more intimidating. I think I might stick to telling people I'm just an Arabic major or something…we'll see.

But yay interacting with ACTUAL EGYPTIANS within the first week of the program, as opposed to in Morocco when that happened, um, never. :D

This evening was also so much fun. The female students and Arabic instructors were supposed to have a discussion about gender/harassment/etc. but really we ended up just going out and getting dinner. Which was kind of a fiasco but mostly hilarious. We went to this Yemeni restaurant and it was super perplexing even to the teachers, mainly because they ran out of food (what?) and didn't have napkins or any cutlery other than spoons, and just kept bringing random food out and throwing it on the table, I guess as a replacement for the food people had ordered that they didn't have. Lots of meat with bones in it that looked like it had recently been hacked off a sheep, and in fact probably had. To be eaten with a spoon? Apparently. So that was bizarre, but I just ate lots of delicious rice and vegetables so I'm not complaining. Anyway, the six of us students chatted with the three Arabic instructors, a surprising amount in Arabic, and it was really chill and funny and awesome. Dinner was on them which was super nice of them, and then afterward we walked around a bit and they bought us sugarcane juice and boxes of sweets as well. Mostly they were just ridiculously generous and generally awesome. It was pretty great. Yay.

I know I know pictures. I have some of the apartment and from tonight but uploading'd probably be slow and I want to sleep. Today was the first time we made it to class on time and without getting even slightly lost, so that was good. Today was also the first day I didn't take a hindersome late-evening nap! Go me. I should probably go to sleep now though so the same can be accomplished tomorrow, when I embark on the mysterious "Cairo Amazing Race" that we'll all be participating in. Night! Sorry for being boring and wordy.

omg omg omg

I know I said I'd update with photos but I forgot to take any today. Oops. I will soon I promise.

It's past one a.m. and more orientation stuff starts tomorrow at 9 am but I'm maaaybe too excited to sleep right now. I'm so psyched for this program. The American guy in charge seems reallllly helpful and organized and nice and generally with it, unlike certain other mudeer/-as I could name. So go him. Today we just had orientation talks, and then he walked us around our part of the city and showed us how to use the metro (haha), and such.

Then we had free time to wander around by ourselves, so I did. I accidentally talked with a guy who was all, "Come visit my art shop! My sister and brother are getting married tomorrow! Please come see?!" ... So how could I not? And then of course I was forced into paying way too much for a stupid painting on papyrus. Oops. But whatever. These are things I do in America too. Maybe this is something I should work on.

Wandering off to this guy's shop made me late (oops again) for our group dinner-Nile-cruise. Luckily Matthew waited for me and we got to the boat before it left. (Not being late for things: also something I should probably work on.) The dinner itself was unspectacular, as was the entertainment, but it was really great because I got to meet most of our teachers and chat in Arabic with them. They all seemed really nice and helpful and awesome, and were all "yeah we definitely want to teach you useful vocab," which like YES PLEASE I HAVE WAITED SEVEN SEMESTERS FOR THIS. I reeeeally hope they stay true to that. And during orientation we were told that the colloquial class will be focused entirely on like, Things We Will Be Needing To Say. So I'm looking forward to that a lot. The whole program just seems very organized and culturally aware and lots of good things. And AMIDEAST's whole motto is something about building bridges and bringing people and cultures together...the organization is responsible (both directly and indirectly with like, partner institutions) for a lot of English education in Egypt and all of the Middle East, and for administering standardized tests (TOEFL, etc), and like getting Middle Easterners grants to study in the US and stuff, and we are told there are going to be movie nights and discussions and language partners and stuff with the Egyptian students who are also affiliated with AMIDEAST. (And two of the American students here did the same program in the fall too, so they can confirm these aren't just hypothetical, never-to-be instances of interaction, again different from certain mudeer/as' programs I could name.) So basically, all great signs so far.

Anyway, suuuuuper giddy to be in Cairo. I'm sure it'll fade but I'm enjoying it right now. Tomorrow we have a three-hour placement exam (ew, haven't prepared, sigh) and more orientating, after which they should deliver my suitcase to my apartment (yay). OK SLEEP TIME.

Heeeeere.

I'm in Cairo but it hasn't really hit me yet.

Landed at the airport around 4ish. Waited for my checked bag until 4:40ish. Realized it wasn't gonna be there at about 4:45ish. Filled out forms about it until 5ish. Found the people who were waiting for me at 5:15ish.

After everyone was collected from the airport, three other people and I were shuttled to our apartment in Dokki by the housing guy, Tamer, and were given an introductory talk by the guy Matthew in charge of the program, who lives down the street. Both seemed super cool. (Total number of students in the program, btw: 12.)

Anyway, the apartment: wow.

So when we filled out the roommate form, they asked us a question about how desperately we needed comfortable things in our apartment -- which they defined as hot water and western-style toilets, among other things. In retrospect it seems like a pretty ridiculous question. Our apartment is probably the biggest/nicest one evarrrr. Three (enormous) bedrooms, two (enormous) living rooms with five (really comfortable) couches, one (enormous) balcony, one (enormous) kitchen, one and a half bathrooms (with, yes, western-style toilets and hot water), one of which includes an actual bathtub and shower. Calling this "upper middle class" is maaaaybe pushing it. Plenty of dishes, a fridge and freezer and toaster and microwave and blender and coffee maker and stove and oven and washing machine and Wi-Fi (!!!) and really all I mean to say is crazy nice. I will have to force myself to ever leave this place. Ha.

I have not yet really spoken Arabic with anyone but I am determined to do so. I think I've taken more Arabic than most people on the program but we'll see. Omg Cairo!!!!! I will update with photos and stuff later. Cairo!!!!!!!!!!

Traveling.

It's 12:30 am London time and the airport is deserted. My flight got in a couple of hours ago. The long, bleak, poorly-marked trek from Terminal 3 to Terminal 1 via customs and the baggage claim was only vaguely creepy. The check-in desks and security and food places all seem to be closed for the night. My flight to Cairo is at 9 am and my only solace until then lies in the $12/day Wi-Fi and overhead fluorescent lights. So, I'm writing.

Thinking about it, the flight from Chicago was also pretty desolate. Empty spots outnumbered the peopled ones. One of the flight attendants seemed to have time-warped from the '80's, shoulder pads, big hair, and all. The seats didn't have individual TVs and I was too lazy to find the corresponding audio to the one show that was playing a few rows ahead of me so I watched in silence a program that somehow involved RENT, Titanic, Princess Di, auctions, art galleries, and people (maybe just one person?) getting indicted for something. I guess that was interesting.

Tomorrow I get to Cairo, ان شاء الله, so we'll see how that goes. Goals for the semester include less social anxiety and more being comfortable communicating/interacting with people, especially in Arabic. Also, gaining a basic (ha) understanding of Middle Eastern history and politics, my ignorance about which at this point is almost shameful. Also general awesomeness. Wish me luck.

Okay computer's dying. I guess I'll find something else to distract me, that or an outlet. Will write from Cairo!

Dude. Cairo!

So the journey begins. And as always, it can't happen without you: my loyal ... though small ... group of followers. Yes, you: my family and friends who, by choice or brute force, have ended up living vicariously through me. You heard about Buenos Aires. You witnessed Tangier. Now, without further ado, this is—

TRAVELS, TAKE THREE:
CAVORTING IN CAIRO.

Okay, so I may be a little ahead of myself. Fact is, I'm still at home in West Lafayette, dreaming up alliterative titles for things-yet-to-happen. But I've started packing, and the smell of adventure is in the air. Tomorrow evening I take a shuttle up to Chicago, where I'll stay with family overnight and make my way to O'Hare bright and early. From there, to Heathrow, and from Heathrow to Cairo! The possibilities are endless. Airports are magical. And come Saturday afternoon I'll be a world away from this land of college campuses and canceled concerts, of colorless cornfields and cantankerous caretakers. (Okay I'll stop now.) But you get the idea.

It's a new decade.

I'm a new person.

Big Things are coming, and I intend to be a part of them.

Watch this spot. Savor the updates. I promise not to disappoint.