Armed and Expressive

Today in my Egyptian dialect class, we learned how to curse in Egyptian Arabic. I kid you not. I took notes. The Egyptians on my hallway had a ball reading what I wrote. To reassure those who may be scandalized by an academic program that sets aside time to teach students how to make sailors blush, please know they only had our best interests in mind. We can at least now know when we are being insulted (and who in our extended family as well). We were also advised that trading verbal salvos with people in the street could only end badly and to avoid it at all costs.

The most severe curse words in Egyptian society are reserved for use by men only (Sorry ladies. But are you surprised?) Apparently, some Egyptian women may not even know some of the curses we learned. On a somewhat scandalous note, a woman taught us the curses. That was not too popular with my hallmates.

This coming week is the end of Ramadan which is marked by a festival called Eid al-Fitr. It is a national holiday (I think?) so we do not have class. As a program, we are going to travel to Siwa, an oasis in the Western Egyptian desert, to spend a couple days away from big ol' city, spend a night in the desert under the stars, and get this, go sand surfing. Amazing. Pictures are sure to follow.

This past Thursday we had a sand storm in Alexandria. The sky was orange.


Talk about the ultimate curveball for a weather man. How do you predict something like that? I suppose, however, I'm altogether not that sympathetic for Egyptian weathermen. I do not think their job is too hard.

Saying what you mean, meaning what you say, and still not really knowing that much

What about smooching? Is there smooching?

Today I went to Rasheed (Rosetta), a small town near Alexandria on the Nile River famous for a stone discovered there that allowed scholars to decipher hieroglyphics.

There is not much there now. Rasheed's glory days, such as when it was Egypt's most important port, are gone, along with the Rosetta Stone itself. Britain, in its glorious campaign to rid the world of precious artifacts, ferried it away to London.

Here are some pictures:


This is my friend Joe watching a man make konafa. Konafa is a special dessert available only during Ramadan. That means I need to eat as much of it as possible in the next week. It's a tough duty but I think I'm up to the task.


And this just made me laugh:


Donkey power, requests from the audience, and 20 going on 6

Waxing and Waning

We named the cats. Gamal, Abdul, Nasser, and Frank. We're not sure which one is which but those are their names. There's a joke in there somewhere but it might not be funny. They've grown up so much. They have given up timidly crouching in the bushes next to the cafeteria and are now rather forcefully demanding to partake in my dinner. So cute. so cute.

Last night I attend a concert at the nearby Jesuit Cultural Center. Although I was not wearing socks, the concert rocked them. It was awesome. It featured a band with oud (lute in english), toubla (Middle Eastern hand drum), an upright bass, a piano, and best of all, a full blown choir. Amazing. I hardly understood a word but that was okay. Here's proof:


And the choir (although blurry in the picture, they were not blurry in real life. I promise.)


I remember hearing someone read from a guide book on Egypt that Egyptian taxis do not run on gasoline but will power. At the time, I scoffed at the comment and dismissed it has an exaggeration.

Egyptian taxis are like Yzma, the disgruntled ex-administrator/mad scientist from the Disney film, The Emperor's New Groove. I could not find a good picture so I will quote the movie and say she is "living proof dinosaurs once roamed the earth" and "scary beyond all reason." More importantly, Kuzco, the film's protagonist, asks "what is holding that woman together?" The analogy seemed logical to me. Anyway,

What is holding Egyptian taxis together? They must be the most abused automobiles on the planet. Most run at least 12 hours a day in heavy traffic and I think I had a cabbie today who was shifting without the clutch. The answer could be in the decoration. They all seem to be adorned in a Compton meets Safari meets Discotheque style. Maybe those themes combined act as a paste that makes an otherwise deteriorating automobile drivable. Who knows.

25 part harmony, bliss in a bowl, and oh right, it's in London with the rest of our national treasures.

Uphill in the snow both ways

Tonight I was treated to a cup of tea and the company of some elderly Egyptian men sitting and talking outside restaurant. It was a lot of fun. A couple of things:

I enjoy the cafe culture of Alexandria. Every evening you can expect the cafes and restaurants along the Corniche to be packed with Egyptians just sitting and talking. No hurry or rush. America should look into importing this relaxed approach to an evening.

This evening, we talked about, surprise, surprise, American politics and the upcoming presidential election. As one who favors Obama, I am surprised at how little is known about him and his positions here. I suppose not much is known about McCain either but I seem to always receive skeptical looks when I tell Egyptians I support Obama.

One of the men expressed a surprising point of view. I would not have believed it, or understood him for that matter, unless I had first read about it here:

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/09/09/world/africa/09cairo.html?scp=1&sq=cairo&st=cse

Tonight was the first time I heard that expressed by an Egyptian. A point I do hear often, thankfully, is that although Egyptians strongly dislike the American government and its current policies, they like American people. Politically, however, America has some work to do and an image to rebuild in the region.

They must have liked me because they invited me back. I'm am quite honored. I heard rumors that tomorrow there will be konafa (heaven held together by honey).

The Egyptian medical students on my hallway have the first of several big exams tomorrow. Stress knows no bounds.

Mickey Mouse, Latin, and is that Elton John I hear?

Don't cross the Corniche

Studying abroad, unlike studying in the states, comes with some rules that should never be broken. I am happy to say that my program in Egypt does not have a long litany of rules to keep but there are a couple crucial ones. The most important of these Please-do-not-Break-Me rules is "Do not cross the Corniche."

Those of you picturing Chuck Norris, the Corniche is not a person or the Egyptian Mafia. The Corniche is the main road/highway in Alexandria. Alexandria is spread out along a stretch of the Mediterranean Sea coast and the Corniche is the eight lane highway (four lanes on each side with a median) that runs between the sea and the city. The fastest traffic, and often the worst driving, can be found on the Corniche. Guaranteed safe passage across the Corniche can be found in underground tunnels that cross under the road at regular intervals.

Last night my friends and I saw a micro bus hit a man trying to cross the Corniche. The windshield of the micro shattered and the man tumbled for 10 yards along the pavement before coming to a rest. He was conscious but noticeably injured, bleeding from his forehead and lying awkwardly on the curb. Traffic on the Corniche slowed immediately as other micros and taxis stopped to help the man. Fortunately, an ambulance was near by as well and arrived to the scene quickly. I do not know the extend of his injuries.

Do not cross the Corniche.

Because I think we all need it, and because my sister asked for it: a picture of kittens.


Aren't dey cute?

Safety first, second, and third

Kittens everywhere! Kittens for everyone!

The title of this post is kind of a joke. But at the same time, it kind of is not.

There are cats all over the place in Alexandria, particularly around the dorms. And as we all know, when you get a lot of cats together, more cats tend to appear. Hence, kittens. Yesterday we (Adrian, Joe, Nadar, and myself) tried to rescue a kitten that had unwisely climbed inside and up a rain pipe (why a rain pipe is necessary in Egypt I do not know). The story that follows is one of daring, bravery, and sacrifice.

Here's the shake down: Adrian, Joe, and I came back from hanging out a cafe and saw a mother cat with three kittens gathered around a rain pipe opening. Drawn by the overwhelming adorableness (that's a word folks), we walked over to oogle. It was then that we heard a mysterious meow. At first we thought it was coming from one of the three kittens but they were not making any noise. We then figured that the catamily (cat-family) had gathered around the pipe because one of their own was in the pipe! (Daring. On the part of the cat that is).

We were not sure what to do so we went and got Nadar, one of our Egyptian hallmates. He loves cats. He came down and stuck his hand up the pipe. (Bravery. Who knows what's in there. Certainly not water.) The kitten was not within reach, unfortunately. We then tried a series of unsuccessful kitten-retrieval methods. We started with trying to coax it out. The cat was not buying that so we gave it up. We next tried shaking the pipe thinking that maybe the cat had become stuck. After some hearty shakes (and more coaxing), there was no kitten. There was still one last option. Sacrifice.

Apparently, cats like raw eggs. We cracked an egg and left it at the bottom of the pipe hoping the scent would draw the kitten down. We were right in some respects. The scent did draw cats. The previously mentioned catamily must not have thought much of our strategy because they ate the egg. Curses!

Thankfully, the kitten found its own way down. We saw it this evening at dinner.

For those who did not want a story about kittens but pictures of kittens, I apologize. I did not take a picture. I do have a picture though of my friend Ali doing his best cat impression.


I went to a Sufi dance tonight. Explaining Sufism would take a big effort (if I even could). I can tell you how they dance though. They spin in circles. Over and over and over and over. Watching them made me dizzy. No joke. It was interesting to watch though. They could do some pretty incredible things all while spinning. The dancers wore colorful, ornate skirts that they would twirl either with the motion of their body or with their hands. Imagine a human kaleidoscope or perhaps a mad scientist creature created from tire swings, crayons, and a thumping bass. I was nauseated but impressed at the end of the show.

Liquified oreo, plastic bottle robots, and spinning in circles.