رحلة حلوة - Beautiful trip

Rahla heluwa = Beautiful trip

Ahem. So, I wrote the below post days ago and just forgot to actually post it. It might now seem silly and frivolous to describe our trip to Siwa, considering that in Egypt yesterday, tonight, and almost certainly tomorrow there are far more important, pressing, and dire current events unfolding. Elections begin in exactly one week and some violence in very localized, specific places has occurred. I will write about the protests, but it does behoove me to first learn more about them as the events take shape. Right now, everything I'm learning about the protests in Cairo and Alexandria are filtered through twitter or word-of-mouth. Follow Al-Jazeera English or Almasryalyoum for decent info, friends and loved ones! And do keep Egypt in your prayers, puh-leeze. As I type these words, an embarrassing number of my classmates and I are abuzz on facebook, trying to calm each other's fears or suspicions that we might be evacuated. There's no talk of that yet, whatsoever, we've just been told from the beginning of this program to be ready for the worst. Anyway. Back in time a week or so to Siwa.

Not expecting much aside from a nice break from the usual, the day after eid al-adha, I was happy to embark on a trip to Siwa with the whole group. All of us in one big ol' bus. Siwa is an oasis town in the Sahara not far from the Libyan border, and it was reachable only by plane or by camel not too many decades ago. As such, the once very isolated bedouin culture is different, the language is derived from the amazigh berber tongue, and tourism, farming dates and olives, and drug trafficking (unfortunately) are among the only major economic activities. The fresh dates on the palm trees are unbelievable in texture and taste, the views are rustic and often spectacular, and the locals know how to cook some daaaamn good chicken in pits buried under the sand. 

In short, because pictures are more fun than any written post...

The ruins were intriguing.

 Riding bikes through them and hushed date fields was a lot of fun.

Sunset on the salt flats was stunning. 

"Safari" means bedouin drivers speeding up and down stories-tall sand dunes at 100 mph. Like a roller coaster, without seatbelts and with Arab music on cassette tapes in the background. It also means sand in your ears for days and oh my gosh I'd do it all again in a heartbeat, and you too, yes even YOU Sophie, would undoubtedly enjoy it as well. 

The views in the Sahara were oft-eerie, oft-beautiful and prompted us to have all sorts of half-assed philosophical discussions.

Sandsledding is harder than it looks.

After the sun set in the desert, we alternated between huddling around a gigantic olive wood campfire and wandering up and down full-moon lit sand dunes. The night was surreal and chilly, and unfortunately, a good  portion of our crew didn't sleep a wink because it was simply TOO COLD and apparently a sufficient number of blankets wasn't included in the price of the safari. (I was part of a group of girls who huddled under one filthy, yet cozy, tattered rainbow blanket all night. When we awoke we thought our frozen feet might fall off before we could crawl to the campfire). At least we slept. Sorry sorry sorry to my friends who were literally huddled around the campfire outside, in the sand, sans blanket!

The next morning, happy yet unshowered and pretty exhausted (ain't no bathroom in the desert) we arrived at a resort in Marsa Matruh, on the Mediterranean Coast a few hours west of Alexandria. I don't think any of the students in my group expected a night in a nice resort, and it was a little strange (all of our scholarships come from government money - thanks taxpayers! :/ ) but welcome. It was probably the first night on a normal, comfy, warm mattress that I've had in Egypt, even if the water turned off in the middle of the night, and I got chided by reception for not returning my towel to the 16-year old towel man. (What? Why? Why am I not allowed to leave my used towel in the hotel room?)

 The color of the water was astounding, and we realized that the familiar grey-green of the Mediterranean that we see every day in the city results from Alex's proximity to the Nile delta. In Marsa Matruh, no rush of fresh, silty water dilutes the pristine blue of the Mediterranean, and lord have mercy, it was gawgeous. 

As a great finale to our trip and a crazy coincidence (it was Veterans' Day!) we visited German and Italian military tombs and a Commonwealth WWII Cemetery in Alamein, not far outside of Alex. Desert campaigns were fought on Northern Egyptian land in '41 and '42 and imposing memorials stand on little patches of carefully manicured and maintained land, all to commemorate the loss of life that occurred there years and years ago.

I honestly had a sinking feeling in my heart as we pulled into Alex, that's thankfully evaporated now. Alex comes with homework, sleep deprivation, and cold, rainy weather, but currently it's home home home.

(But man, with the current unrest, we'll see what happens... )

الله عالم وربنا يستر

Eid al-Adha عيد الأضحى

عيدالأضحى = Eid al-Adha
Holiday/Festival of Sacrifice

This weekend marked the beginning of the biggest holiday weekend in Muslim culture: The first day of Eid al-Adha.  It's really been a fabulous weekend, marked by the tapering of our workload in class, hanging out throughout the weekend with friends, and making preparations to head to Siwa Oasis and Marsa Matruh for five days tomorrow.

'Twas nice sleeping in, reading what I wanted to read, going to a concert, a party, and having fun food and drink and the like. The air was festive all weekend, and this morning, the first official day of the Eid, the party mood was so tangible, it truly felt (a little bit) like Christmas as we sipped Nescafé and ate peanut butter honey toast on the balcony. At 6:30 AM, I woke up to a LOUD "Allahuwakbar" (God is great) repeated again and again on a loudspeaker, in the street in front of our apartment. Hundreds of men were gathered to pray on green, red, and yellow mats on Shariya Delta. An Imam spoke into the loudspeaker for about 15 minutes; I caught phrases like "women's rights," " abundance and giving," "service," "gratitude." As soon as the prayer and address were over, mats were rolled up and a whole lotta goats, cows, and sheep met their fate in the street. Per tradition, to commemorate Abraham's willingness to follow God and offer up his son Isaac, families purchase and sacrifice an animal each year, keep 1/3 of the meat, give 1/3 to close relatives and friends, and give 1/3 to charity. As we descended into the street post-prayer, the energy was palpable and children were shrieking happily, eating cotton candy and playing with new toys. Kelsey and I were handed gift bags paid for by the Muslim Brotherhood. (I think I'll keep the gently politicized coloring book for life.) Everyone wished us a happy eid and a good year and a blessed holiday; It was fun.

SO I don't want the focus of this post, or any of my talk on eid al-adha to necessarily be on the gruesomeness of the animal slaughter. Because most of it was just fine. Sheep and goats, sad, yes, and bloody, but not a huge deal, sorry.

But. Honestly. Cows? Cows ARE huge and have a LOT of blood, and seem really frightened before the moment they're done in. Despite all that thesis research, and that chapter that I wrote on certain slaughter methods being superior to other slaughter methods, I never actually in person witnessed life leave the body of any creature as large and as sentient as a cow before today, nor splashed through puddles of its blood. I still feel nauseous, and it might be a long time before I'm able to eat beef. I'm currently retooling everything I thought about animal slaughter in my head. 

Really and truly, the focus of Eid al-Adha is commemorating obedience to God, service, celebrating abundance, and giving to others. It's not about killing animals in the street; It's about celebrating in the street, with everyone! It just shocked my senses, all of them. (Who knew slaughter smelled like that?) 

 I took a lot of pictures of the weekend (and people were happy to oblige my taking them, and even wished me a happy eid!), but out of respect for you dear readers, and out of respect for the sanctity of the holiday, I've only included a couple distantly bloody ones. Warning, they be down therrr below.

Laura grieving for the unsuspecting lambs.

America night. Chocolate chip cookies, 25th of January Monopoly (wait, did we really forgot to play it?) and Domino's pizza that truly tasted exactly as it does in Austin, TX.

Sunrise prayer

Oh no, sheep!

:(

It's a community affair.

شغال ومش شغال to work and to not work

مش شغال

mish shaghal =  to NOT work

شغال

shaghal = to work!

Easily the first new phrase I and several others picked up here was "mish shaghal." Meaning, it doesn't work. The phone? Mish shaghal. Water heater? Mish shaghal. Internet? oh DEFinitely mish shaghal. But seeing how 1) everything will eventually shaghal or you'll find a way around it (who needs a shower head?), 2) God really provides exactly what I need, just often not at the moment I most think I want it, and 3) how everyone in Egypt just keeps on keepin' on in a country where many things break or simply never worked efficiently... This ALL continues to instruct me in patience and awe for how the world just continues to turn. I'm growing in admiration for this country, admiration for my own country, appreciation for Hans Wehr (an intimidating and beautifully organized tome of an arabic dictionary, that I've fallen asleep with here more than once. ugh), and independence from google translate or anything electronic.

Egypt feels cozy and homey now, I enjoy the markets, and I like running next to the ocean (though I can't run as fast, dunno if I want to blame it on the pollution, the too-warm long-sleeved clothes I wear, or my embarassing, skyrocketing sugar consumption). I even like the crush of people on the trams in the morning (but NOT in the afternoons. Deodorant is not of the highest quality here, and in the morning, it's still too early for deodorant to have failed). I love this one tunnel I pass through every day on my way to the university. All the footsteps echo and all the women are dressed beautifully and all the hijabs adjusted just so and all the men look dashing in their business suits. (Why am I in a good mood when I walk through that tunnel in the morning, but often in a not so good mood on the way home? Haven't figured that one out yet.) Sometimes there are puddles of sandy seawater from the Mediterranean waves that seeped into the tunnel overnight. There are sleepy, stubbly guards flanking the entrances and they always perk up when anyone greets them. I wonder if they get any sleep?

A shoe store named King Paris opened directly below our apartment, and to herald the grand opening, there were two nights of LOUD pop music and vines of Christmas lights strung up and down the street, twinkling randomly. Fireworks were shot up into the air, (sort of) aimed at people's balconies, and fourth of july size explosions left ash, dust, and a lingering burning smell on one of our little patios, but no matter. It was fun to not hear ourselves in our own living room due to the FIREWORKS outside the window, and it's actually a relief to be in a country with so little attention put on safety liabilities. I knew not to step on the balcony, for instance. Personal responsibility, people.

Internship work these past couple weeks entailed calling up international schools in Alex, asking for meetings with the principals. Harder said than done. I can't stand selling things, and in America, such a process, just cold-calling and requesting meetings, would never fly. Hanshuf, bekhir insha'allah.

We celebrated my roommate's 21st birthday on Halloween, fêting the occasion at Café Latino on the Corniche. 25-30 of us ate classy, flashy but mediocre-tasting cake, laughed a lot, stood up when the waiters decided our arrival was the best moment to change the lightbulbs directly above the table, and overall itbasatna (enjoyed ourselves). It made me realize I've had nothing but great roommates my whole life. Sophie, Saloni, Ashley, Caroline, Jamie, Amira, Rania… All wonderful! And now Enas and Kelsey. Humdulillah, really and truly.

With the tangibly positive attitudes my roommates and classmates have, I'm able to remember that when the shower head breaks, the hot water disappears, the padlock sticks, the internet company has somehow broken the internet for the day (it happened… at least the government didn't censor it or take it off line like it did in January), it's all so minor it's not worth getting upset over. We're always trying to look for ways to drop the "mish" and say, hey, yeah, shaghal, it works, because therein lies the beauty of so much of egypt. You might not understand how something works and forget about knowing when it will work, but eventually, most everything works, and another day starts again.

King Paris opening. Christmas lights! I wish you could hear the Pussycat Dolls blaring. I don't think the lyrics were understood...

Bakeries everywhere. Sort of like France, but cheaper. (i.e. dangerous)

That, my friends, is indeed a bookstore. He is selling books. See? His bookstore just, well, works. Doesn't look like it would, but it does. ma'alesh.

Inside an immaculate, white-tiled dairy. Milk in bags!

Suq cleopatra

Part of Café Latino crew on Halloween

Happy 21st birthday Enas!

سنة حلوة يا جميلة