Statistics statistics statistics. Here are a few for you, about the situation of women in Egypt (from Human Rights Watch):
In 2000, the last year for which statistics are available, an estimated 56 percent of adult Egyptian women were illiterate as compared to 33 percent of adult men.1 Women’s health and lives continue to be jeopardized in Egypt by harmful customary practices such as female genital mutilation (FGM), which is practiced on an estimated 97 percent of ever-married women in Egypt.2 Women constitute only 21 percent of the labor force.3 On average, women are paid only 76 percent of men’s wages in the private sector and 86 percent in the public sector.4 An estimated 19 percent of women are unemployed compared to 5 percent of men.5 The share of women members in the Egyptian parliament does not exceed 3 percent in the lower house and 6 percent in the upper house.6 Rural women in Egypt are even worse off than their urban counterparts. In rural areas, although 20 percent of agricultural workers are women, they own only 6 percent of the land. They are also often prevented from exerting meaningful control over the little land they own since they are routinely coerced into surrendering control of land to their husbands or male relatives
Statistics have some interesting characteristics: they’re eye catching, carry a certain strange sense of authority and can be used for both good and evil. In the case of women in Egypt, statistics also have another property: they allow a casual observer to glimpse the scale of a problem without ever having to consider any cause, development, continuation or possible solution. This is because statistics and figures are inherently dehumanising. They turn a collection of vast and varied narratives into one perhaps shocking, but easy-to-digest percentage. They allow us to keep our distance.
In the relatively short time I have been living in Egypt, I have met many women, but I’ve never met a single statistic. I’ve met women who are happy, women who are sad. Women who are angry, and women who are determined. I’ve met women who are kind, and women who are cruel. Women of great intelligence, and women of great ignorance. Helpful women, horrible women, hospitable women, hysterical women and honest women. Women who are funny, dry and sarcastic. Women with many children, women with non. Women of many religions and women of no religion. Women who long to leave Egypt, and women desperate to stay. Women who are proud of their country, and women who are ashamed. And more.
The beauty of Kolena Laila is that it allows a whole host relative outsiders, like you and me, to hear some of the incredibly diverse range of voices, stories and songs that are “Egyptian women”. I’m not asking you to ignore the statistics, far from it. Take note of the tragedy they portray, but I’m begging you not to allow them to satiate your interest. Browse Kolena Laila and read the overwhelmingly human stories that lie behind them. Don’t keep your distance.
Merry Christmas one and all! I'm writing from Manchester Airport (where there is, predictably, no free wireless) on my way home to Egypt. Delayed again. It's been a fabulous week-and-a-half of fantastic food, good wine (finally) and – most importantly - thoroughly excellent company.
My first couple of days involved trying to catch up with some old friends, who were on fine form as always. I also managed to visit my darling brother, who is working a proper job for a year before he goes to London next year. He has a desk on the top floor of a double-decker bus with TWO screens. I'm going to link my new 12” netbook to the 15” CRT in my new office just so I can compete.....
The netbook, a Samsung NC20, is running like a dream by the way, a real breath of fresh air after the battle-weary Fujitsu-Siemens that got so hot I would have to manually fan in order to use Skype (a sight so absurd as to be almost unsavoury for any with whom I was in video communication.)
The main highlight, aside from seeing my dearest family and friends, was the abundance of snow that made Saddleworth a very speical place to be at Christmas, and that also meant my mum didn't want to drive anywhere, thus leaving me free to run wild in her car. Well, as wild as you can run in a Mitsubishi Colt. On Wednesday, after fearing Mona stuck somewhere in the Channel tunnel, I finally picked her up from Piccadilly so she could see Christmas “ha2ee2ee” - (“real Christmas”, whatever that is). Mona, for those of you who haven't had the good fortune to meet her, is Andrea's host sister and best friend from Alexandria. She's something of a legend after the way she looked after Andrea in the hospital and was generally a star, and it was a real privilege to have her visit the family for Christmas and for me to get to know her a little better.
In recent years, our Christmases have acquired a fairly consistent international flavour, with guests now from Cameroon, Brunei, Egypt and the US, and with one Christmas being spent overlooking the Pyramids in Giza. For Mona's visit, we slightly cut down on the pig products (last year's main meal unwittingly starred 5 different kinds of pork) bought in some halal lamb and chicken, and some Schloer – a syrupy sweet non-alcoholic wine replacement. I showed her Manchester, took her shopping in Primark on Christmas Eve – her choice – and hit the Boxing Day sales with an uncharacteristic enthusiasm. Mona was an all-round great sport, even at one point impressively managing to persuade my dad to pull out his melodion for a tune and, even more commendably, getting my 84-year-old grandpa to pull out his handkerchiefs and give a brief masterclass in morris dancing. As I mentioned, it was a privilege, and Andrea and I both miss Mona whilst she is out of Egypt studying in the UK.
I'm sad to be leaving, it's been great to spend some time with my family and another week would have been nice, but you can't have everything. Next I'm meeting Michael in Cairo and then heading south for my first trip to Luxor for new year, and I'm reminded of how lucky I am to live where I do and travel as I do. The new job starts on January 4th, and I know I've already got a lot of editing to do along with meeting and getting to know the trainees I will be supervising. I'm looking forward to the challenge, and it will be good for me to have lots of work to do to occupy me until Andrea comes back to Egypt on the 25th.
Merry Christmas everyone! See you next year!
Txxx
A few photos (on the camera phone) of snow falling in our garden, Saddleworth. Pretty eh?
For those of you who are technologically astute, and have no qualms with following me on that most often pilloried of fiends Twitter, you will have noticed that but days before my homecoming I "tweeted": Home in 4 days, I dearly hope Blighty is suitably festive. (For my American audience, "Blighty" is how us Brits tenderly refer to Britain when given occasion.)
Well, it appears that someone, somewhere is listening. Festivity, or festive-ness - I can't decide which - is something no doubt unique to each and everyone. The Christmas I spent in Egypt with my family was wonderful, Chistmas lunch overlooking the pyramids and all, but festivity was in short supply. For about 2 months I've been happily listening to Andrea excitedly talk about her Tucson Christmas that is very clearly her ideal of festive-ness (which I hope to experience at the earliest opportunity :) For me, however, festivity-ness currently exists right now in Scouthead. The house has been tastefully decorated, there are hot mince pies in abundance, the living room smells deliciously of Christmas tree and, best of all, the trees and fields outside my bedroom window have been sprinkled with a generous dusting of snow.
For about as long as I can remember, classical music and carols have also been a part of my Christmas experience. Not necessarily performing, although there's been plenty of that over the years, but even just having a service of nine lessons and carols gently playing in the background. Classical music is something which, to me, seems strangely out of place in Cairo. Listening to Elgar's Cello Concerto seems almost bizarre as I'm wandering the streets of Downtown, and Cairo's metro is no place for Allegri's Miserere. I have, at times, managed to shut myself in the apartment and get through both discs of the Messiah, but still something feels wrong. Even in Alexandria I could listen to classical music (perhaps another escape provided by the vast blue-green of the Mediterranean) but Cairo seems almost antithetical to that very Western of traditions. One of the things I have missed most over the last six months has been long drives through England to the tune of Elgar and Vaughan Williams.
Last night, as I returned from visiting some friends in town, I experienced a beautifully festive, English moment as I was briefly caught in flurry of snowflakes whilst driving over the hill into Saddleworth, listening to my favourite of Britten's "A Ceremony of Carols". It was perfect.
To think it's been six months and five days since I arrived again. It hardly seems possible. Lots has happened, plenty been learned, and - I feel - a fair amount achieved. As my writing has dried up of late, I'm sure I have plenty to fill you in on. Alas, now is not the time. It's almost 3am, and Cairo airport is pleasingly quiet.
Perhaps all the flying I've been doing in the last 2 years has left me jaded, but the prospect of 10 hours in airports or on planes overnight has really lost the appeal it once held in my childhood. I used to love those all-night flights to Florida, when I could pick a film and beat a curly haired, bespectacled Dominic at Top Trumps. Now it's genuinely hampering my ability to be excited to be going home. I'm sure that will change when I finally board my plane in Amsterdam, in about 6 hours time.
Well, good night and farewell Egypt! More from the UK as it happens.tx
Seasonal greetings from Cairo: "Happy Thanksgiving" to those Americans amongst you (yes yes, for yesterday I know), "Eid Mubarak" to my Muslim readers, and a mixture of the two for those who are lucky enough to be both!
This year Thanksgiving and Eid al-Adha have fallen in the same week, so there are plenty of festivities and a nice couple of days off work. I have to confess to being something of a novice at the Thanksgiving part of the holiday, but I was given a great introduction by the CASA fellows at Rebecca's Zamalek apartment last night. A veritable feast, turkey and cranberry sauce included, was provided by the 35 or so attendees and the hosts and a good time was had by all! Andrea was particularly pleased that her stuffing was so well received (real pork, that's the trick), and we even managed to come away with some leftovers, which will be breakfast for the foreseeable future.
I plan to write about Eid in more depth later today or tomorrow, but right now, there is a LOT of washing up to do, so I'll leave you with two excellent articles:
Thanksgiving: a displaced Brit writes... - Funny and accurate, a Brit who has moved to the US gives thanks for things in his new country.
Gobble Gobble: Thanksgiving in Egypt - ETC and Bikya colleague Andrew Cornetta writes about Thanksgiving in Egypt and the shared celebration with Eid.
I like reading. Slowly, deliberately, thoughtfully. Fiction, more often than not, although that's something that is steadily changing as I learn to greater appreciate the subtleties of travel writing and memoir.
Last summer in Tucson, during one of my many visits to the Aladdin's cave of used books and CDs that is Bookman's whilst waiting for Andrea to finish her physiotherapist appointment, I picked up a lightly thumbed copy of a novel entitled Snow. I noted the author's name, vaguely recognising Orhan Pamuk as a recent Nobel laureate and recalling a story I'd read about a legal case against him in Turkey over remarks made about the Armenian genocide. I decided to take the plunge; a Nobel prize winner must be worthy of my attention, and if it turned out to be trash - or, more probable, elevated to the point of unintelligibility (I love Neruda on this, and his idea of a "fetish of the incomprehensible" ) - then I'd only lost out on 10 dollars, and could probably recoup most of that by selling it back.
I don't want to review Snow here, not now anyway. Margaret Atwood does an excellent job of that here, for the New York Times. It suffices to say that I found it mysteriously enchanting, and the early chapter written as a dialogue between a university professor and his soon-to-be assassin is a tour de force. More than once I have considered copying it in full on here, but it's no short chapter and I don't want any legal trouble.
Perhaps the best thing about reading Snow was that it led me to read more by Pamuk. On my return to the US in the Spring, I picked up a collection of essays and short writings: Other Colors: Essays and a Short Story, and in my most recent visit to Pakistan I grabbed Istanbul. It is in these two remarkable books that the author discusses his true loves: books, childhood and Istanbul. With a beautiful innocence and a refreshing honesty, Pamuk depicts his childhood in Istanbul, as the younger son of an upper middle class, once wealthy family, interweaving the influences of social class, religion, Westernization, melancholy, the Bosphorous, the Ottoman empire and Isntabul's sense of a forever lost greatness on his own experience and maturity as a writer. His memoirs and musings about counting ships on the Bosphorous, his mother, and his relationship with his daughter are particularly touching, melancholic and at times comical.
What I love most, though, about Pamuk's writing is that he seems to spark a desire in me to write that no author I can think of has before. It's hard for me to put my finger on exactly why that is the case, but his evocative depictions of Istanbul leave me wanting to spend hours sitting, thinking, jotting notes and eventually composing something vaguely coherent. In many ways it makes me jealous of the obvious talent, and superlative location, of SoD up in Alexandria. Sadly, the reality is that I lack the self-discipline, training and financial muscle to be able to spend extended periods of time pen in hand. At most times, I must confess, I also lack the desire. As I re-read the short entries that make up Istanbul and Other Colors, though, it's difficult to want to do much else. Maybe one day.
I shall leave you with a short extract on writing from the moving Nobel speech given by Pamuk, also published in Other Colors:
"A writer is someone who spends years patiently trying to discover the second being inside him, and the world that makes him who he is: when I speak of writing, what comes first to my mind is not a novel, a poem, or literary tradition, it is a person who shuts himself up in a room, sits down at a table, and alone, turns inward; amid its shadows, he builds a new world with words. This man – or this woman – may use a typewriter, profit from the ease of a computer, or write with a pen on paper, as I have done for 30 years. As he writes, he can drink tea or coffee, or smoke cigarettes. From time to time he may rise from his table to look out through the window at the children playing in the street, and, if he is lucky, at trees and a view, or he can gaze out at a black wall. He can write poems, plays, or novels, as I do. All these differences come after the crucial task of sitting down at the table and patiently turning inwards. To write is to turn this inward gaze into words, to study the world into which that person passes when he retires into himself, and to do so with patience, obstinacy, and joy. As I sit at my table, for days, months, years, slowly adding new words to the empty page, I feel as if I am creating a new world, as if I am bringing into being that other person inside me, in the same way someone might build a bridge or a dome, stone by stone. The stones we writers use are words. As we hold them in our hands, sensing the ways in which each of them is connected to the others, looking at them sometimes from afar, sometimes almost caressing them with our fingers and the tips of our pens, weighing them, moving them around, year in and year out, patiently and hopefully, we create new worlds."
It appears that the title of my last post was wistfully inaccurate. I've only just seen this and spoken to Clarabelle (a Zamalek resident), so I'm perhaps not best placed to comment at the moment, except to say that this has shocked me almost to the point of disbelief. Here are some pictures from Khaled Zohny's Facebook page (apologies in advance for any copyright infringement):
You could hear the party going on in Boursa from streets away. Hundreds upon hundreds of people in eager anticipation of Egypt's return to the international football elite and the chance to see their side in action against the world's best. An hour before the match, there wasn't a spare seat to be found and the noise was simply deafening - typical football songs through mixed with chants with a curiously religious overtone. I admire the Egyptian passion for football, it's a wonderful feeling to be in amongst the dancing, music, flag waving. It wasn't just young men either, there were women, scarved and unscarved, of all ages present, and a real feeling of community that I haven't experienced in a long time.
After all that singing, drumming and dancing, the match itself was something of a let down. Algeria played a hard game and scored a great goal, but their time wasting antics coupled with some inept refereeing meant the match wasn't the spectacle it should have been. Egypt spurned chance after chance whilst Algeria scraped their one shot and one goal. The crowd's cheers of "Ya rab!" (Oh Lord!) for Egypt's set plays turned from expectant, to hopeful, to desperate, and the fans seemed to have given up hope by the time the fourth official signalled an astonishingly short 4 minutes of time to be added on. Alas, it wasn't to be, and now Egypt has to wait another 4 years for a shot at World Cup qualification.
Football aside, it's been a busy week since getting back from Karachi, I feel like I've not had five spare minutes as I try and catch up with Meedan, teaching, and copy editing. In amongst all this I'm trying to prepare applications for universities and funding in the UK, a process which takes more time than you could ever imagine. The most frustrating thing will be the wait after I send the applications, as I may not know where I'm going to be next year until months after the deadlines - all I can do is pray and sit tight. It's quite astonishing to think I've already been back here for over 5 months and have only four short weeks before I go home for Christmas, something I'm looking forward to greatly.
More tomorrow, I hope. I have a rather wonderful book and some nice music I want to tell you about.
Back in Cairo after a great time in Karachi, and the football fever that was ubiquitous on my leaving has only intensified on my return. Sunday night witnessed a huge game here in Cairo, one that I sadly missed, with Egypt scraping the 2-0 win they needed against Algeria, forcing a play-off in a neutral venue. That game is tonight, and right now the tension and excitement here are tangible.
School has been cancelled tonight, happily meaning I can watch THE game, and I have a spot booked at a place I reckon will make a good venue. Cars are honking their horns, the 'ahwas were filling up at 4pm (are they ever empty) and Egypt flags are everywhere; cars, balconies, shops, faces. If Egypt win today, this place will go nuts - I can't wait!
Photos and match experiences to follow! Yallah Masr!
Here's my plan for keeping updated regularly from Pakistan. I should be able to update the below feed via mobile phone, so check back here and there should be at least daily updates displayed. Welcome to the wonderful world of Twitter.
As I've written many, many times before on this blog; Once you stop writing, even for a week or two, it gets very difficult to get back into it. The longer you leave it, the longer the list of things you have to write about gets. It becomes a daunting task. Without further ado...
First things first, and with updates demanded from parents, grandparents and even members of the Twitterati: The girls I mentioned in my previous post - now enjoying almost rockstar-like fame after the coverage they received on the Egyptian blogosphere - are fine, doing well and by most accounts enjoying their time here. When I saw Katie a few weekends ago, she was looking well and was raving about teaching English at the university. They eventually managed to navigate the Egyptian judicial system and get the man pardoned and let off with the beatings he'd already received.
Andrea is also doing well - she's admirably determined to read the impossibly difficult novels she is given each weekend, and has far more patience with them than I would have. The content seems to range from the sublime to the ridiculous, and the books seem to have a consistently depressing and/or violent theme. Just how you want to spend a weekend!
As for me, well I'm working hard, keeping busy, and still very much enjoying the madness of life in Cairo. Teaching is going well, although 4 evenings a week somewhat takes its toll. I've also started teaching a private student, which is great fun. She's a marketing manager at a firm owned by her and her husband and we have a good time practising business emails and discussing articles I find each week.
A few weeks ago Son of a Duck, SoD's housemate John and I headed for an only-in-Egypt style adventure to a camel market a little ways north of Cairo. I hope to write fully about this soon, for now I recommend SoD's thorough entry on our excursion.
I'm currently excitedly preparing for short break in Pakistan, I leave on Tuesday, arrive on Wednesday, see Michael (of Michael in Pakistan) ordained at the cathedral on Sunday, and am back in Cairo on Monday in time to teach Level 2. International flights are a wonderful thing.
In addition to packing, teaching, Meedan-ing and writing, I'm looking at options for next year. As fun as this year is/has been, I'd really like to find something a little more financially consistent and stable for next year. Suggestions on a postcard! I'm currently preparing applications for scholarships in various locales.
All for now, more soon. I'll try and figure out a way of blogging each day whilst in Pakistan to let everyone know I'm well and safe, although this may rely on Andrea relaying posts as I will be sans internet for a few days after I arrive.
One final thing; a word of congratulations to my granddad Philip Slack, from whom it seems I have inherited most of my good looks, who yesterday got married to Vivien. Sorry I couldn't be there, I hope my message reached you safely.
Salam and, as always, thanks for reading.
Egypt has surprised me on a fairly regular basis over the time I’ve lived here. Rarely, though, have I been left in such a state of near-disbelief after hearing a story as I presently am after reading of the ordeals of a fellow Manchester student, Sarah, and her friend Katie – just arrived in Egypt making the same journey to Alex as I did a little over two years ago.
Only a few weeks ago we were sat in my favourite café in Boursa, tea and sheesha in hand, chatting about expectations of Egypt, first impressions in Cairo and my own experiences of studying in Alex. Meeting a bewildered Sarah and Katie after they’d been here a day or so helped me to remember my own arrival in Egypt. The confusion, the excitement, the wonder. The sense of being a million miles from home. It would be fair to say that the first few days in Egypt are a traumatic, if frequently wonderful time.
Yesterday, as I sat down for my daily dose of Son of a Duck, I was left stunned by what had happened since Sarah and I last spoke a few days ago – when Katie had been feeling ill and Sarah had sent me an accidental text message. I won’t re-narrate the story, Michael and his flatmate Tom (writing a rival blog, bizarrely titled Tom-In-Egypt) have done a more than adequate job and I’d only be re-writing their posts anyway. No simple task with a scribe of Mr.Nevadomski’s talent. Anyway, read it.
Read these posts first: Vengeance and Hospitals - I wish I was joking...
And then read these posts: 3 to 7, and a Courthouse - Order in the court!
Stunning, shocking, disgusting, terrifying. Memories of the hospital and Andrea’s experience there were quite enough for me, it’s a frightening place and I can only imagine how scary going there and having to have surgery there must be for Sarah and Katie. They’ve been in Egypt less than a month, that experience alone must have been unbearable.
The rest of the story? Simply outrageous. I can’t think of a time I’ve felt angrier at Egypt, or wanted to apologise as much as I do to the girls. Michael raises interesting questions on vengeance and justice; frankly I find it unacceptable that Sarah and Katie, whose heads must be spinning after the events of the last few days, be left with the pressure and responsibility of deciding a man’s fate. It’s abhorrent that they have had to watch the man be beaten twice. Now, to be forced to choose whether this man should walk free, or spend 3 years in an Egyptian prison, or 7?? Unacceptable. That the victim be allowed to sentence the criminal is barbaric. That two compassionate victims be forced to sentence the criminal and to live with the responsibility of that decision is inhumanely punishing to the victim.
I think I have an idea as to how I would react in their situation (if leaving Egypt and never returning were an option), but overriding any thoughts I have on how this man should be punished is an emphatic belief that Sarah and Katie should in no way be responsible for the decision they are about to have to take, and that for them to be put in that position is punishing them for a crime to which they were the victims.
I can’t think of a time I’ve felt angrier at Egypt.
My piece today on Bikya Masr announcing the launch of a new legal paper by the ANHRI. Just reading the title, and writing it on my own blog, makes me think about the difference between bloggers and "bloggers" as previously commented on in the Travis Randall article. I, of course, do not include myself as a blogger as I am discussing in the piece.
Life can be tough for bloggers in Egypt. The threats of imprisonment and interrogation have, for a long time, loomed large as authorities clamp down on “offensive”, controversial, or overtly critical material. Earlier this month, however, one Egyptian blogger ran into a new problem.
On September 3, Khaled el-Balshy – Editor-In-Chief of Al-Badeel newspaper, who also runs a personal blog at elbalshy.blogspot.com – was unofficially interrogated by members of the Interior Ministry’s Internet Crimes unit. The interrogation was not, however, over anything he had posted online, but over an anonymous comment that one user had left responding to a post. This is the first reported case of a blogger being held responsible for user comments on his site in Egypt, but other such stories have been reported in Syria and Malaysia, raising questions over where the responsibility lies for comments published on blogs.
As part of an effort to clear the murky legal waters surrounding anonymous commenting on websites, the Arabic Network for Human Rights Information (ANHRI) has published a new legal paper on the issue. The new paper “Web Sites Owners And Administrators’ Responsibility Of Posted Comments”, available via the ANHRI website, makes a range of proposals to a variety of parties, suggesting ways that all involved could ensure that el-Balshy’s story is not repeated. Writing to “web site owners and administrators, bloggers, visitors who post opinion or comments, the public prosecution and the judiciary specializing such cases”, the paper stresses that whilst bloggers are responsible for what they write in their posts, neither they, nor the site administrators, are responsible for what other people post.
At the same time, the ANHRI is keen to reserve the right of parties offended by website viewers to complain, and, if deemed necessary, for the offending content to be removed. They outline different options offended parties could take, suggesting that if they desire topic or content material removed from a site, they should inform the administrator in writing – emphasizing that no administrator or blogger should be legally questioned until they have received such a complaint in writing and been allowed time to act or respond.
The paper calls for parties and public figures to show restraint in making complaints, stating that “public figures are subject to criticism and a tolerance margin is required. If they accept to take public responsibility then they have agreed to live outside their privacy shell.” Such calls are important, although they may seem fanciful in a country where a civil servant was handed a 3 year jail sentence for penning a short satirical poem about the president.
The ANHRI has, for some time, worked as a defender of freedom of expression across the Arab world, and the defending the rights of bloggers has become a major part of their work. Their legal stand concludes with a timely reminder on the importance of protecting freedom of expression as a basic human right: “Finally , It should be taken into account that restricting freedom of expression has more negative consequences that misusing freedom of expression.”
In this crazy world where all too many people are so quick to take offense at the slightest criticism, and in the Arab world where governments are equally quick to haul away bloggers for interrogation, this legal paper is a timely call for common sense to prevail, and for that the ANHRI should be thanked.
I just wanted to take a quick opportunity to say Eid Mubarak to Tom in Egypt readers! Yesterday was the last day of Ramadan and today is the first, and biggest day of Eid al-Fitr celebrations. I won't go into the religious traditions of the celebration, Wikipedia has a thorough entry on the feast that's worth a read if you're interested, but it suffices to say that it's a very big deal here in Egypt. I also found a beautiful series of photos on HuffPo showing how Eid is celebrated around the world
Sadly, recent Eids have seen some pretty nasty incidents involving serious sexual harassment in downtown so we're hoping to avoid a repeat (as is the government by the looks of things). Andrea and I are getting into the spirit of things and are organising a small dinner for a few friends, hoping that we have enough cutlery and crockery to go round! Our good friend Clare arrived last night, just in time for the party, and is going to stay with us for a while, which is very exciting as I haven't seen her since I left Manchester just over 3 and a half months ago.
Everything else is going well, I have a few days off from teaching so will hopefully get a few more pieces written for Bikya (follow here on Twitter) in the break. Ramadan has been nice, but it will be nice to be able to hang out in a few downtown 'ahwas and speak a bit more Arabic. This is something I really want to knuckle down on over the next few months, as I've gotten a little lazy. Last week I noticed that, because I was writing and working in the days for Meedan, I wasn't really speaking much Arabic at all apart from exchanging a few greetings with people at the ETC - this can't be allowed to continue! In spite of this, I'm reading a lot of blogs and news pieces, and (as you may see via my GoodReads status) I'm also getting stuck into a great pair of novels - Bahaa Tahir's Wahat al-Gharoob (recently translated by the man who lives down the street Mr. Humphrey Davies) and one of my favourite books when I read it in English, Mourid al-Bargouthi's Ra'aytu Ramallah (I saw Ramallah). Either way, talking more is something I'm resloved to working on, hopefully whilst drinking tea and learning to play backgammon in a local coffee shop.
Here are links to a couple of new pieces I've written and had published on Bikya Masr.
Egypt: Kefaya distances itself from Gamal supporter
(15/09/2009)
CAIRO: Egypt’s Kefaya opposition movement has distanced itself from remarks made by founding member, Dr. Hany Anan. Speaking on Egyptian television channel O-TV last week, Anan stated that he would support Gamal Mubarak, the son and likely successor to Hosni Mubarak, as a presidential candidate on the condition that he agreed to abolish article 77 of the Egyptian Constitution, which allows presidents to hold unlimited consecutive terms in power. (Click here to read more of this article)
Egypt: American University enters Swine flu scare, suspends classes
(16/09/2009)
CAIRO: The American University in Cairo has announced that classes will be suspended starting from tomorrow until October 3. The move comes as part of a bid to prevent a new outbreak of H1N1, Swine flu, in Egypt, and follows the Egyptian government’s postponing the start of the academic year in public schools and universities. (Click here to read more of this article)
Sadly, (or happily, she can't decide) this second piece of news means that Andrea has another enforced break from CASA due to swine flu. This gives her more time to do the reading she needs to finish (lots and lots) but I'm sure it's an annoying break in momentum. I just hope for everyone on the programme's sake that rumours about the academic year being pushed further back turn out to be just rumours.
A few weeks have gone by since my last proper (or improper?) entry, so I'm sure I have lots to tell you. Where were we? Ah yes, on the train from Alex to Cairo. The week following my return to Cairo was filled with copy editing all over the city and interspersed with Meedan shifts and the start of some exciting online community development work there. It also saw the start of Ramadan, which is a wonderfully special time of year here in Egypt. Yes, it means that it can be difficult to get a bite to eat during the day, yes it means that people are sometimes grumpy at around 5.30, yes it means traffic can be chaos just before Iftar (the breaking of the fast) and yes, it means it's tricky to get a beer. I love the party atmosphere every night though. Streets downtown are full of people until the early hours shopping, buying clothes, sitting in cafés and generally embracing the holiday spirit.Great fun, and we still have a three day long Eid to look forward to!
Aside from enjoying Ramadan, I have started teaching at the ETC again - 12 hours, two levels, plenty of challenges -and made an unexpected trip to Alexandria to sort out my visa and pay a visit to a certain Mr. Nevadomski. Because I have received two residency visas from Alex (I studied abroad there 07-08), that is where my files are. As such, immigration officials in Cairo would/could not process my late application for a visa extension, and I had to make a Joseph style return to the city where I was registered. Only without the donkey. After some tedious waiting, and after a fine for overstaying my tourist visa, I was finally given the extension I had requested, but am now faced with having to go back to Alexandria to try and collect the multiple entry stamps I need to prevent my visa from becoming void if I leave the country. All quite complicated and not a lot of fun!
As the more regular readers amongst you may have noticed, I have started writing more regularly for an Egypt-based site, Bikya Masr, where I hope to continue writing in the long gaps between Meedan shifts and teaching. As we're talking about the blog, there is some housekeeping and introductions to be done - I've added various applets down the side from some clever sites that I'd recommend to anyone and everyone:
- My beautiful Meedan blog badge, showing the most recent event, my most recent translation and my most recent comment - all in beautiful Arabic as well as English.
- My Diigo roll of links I'm tagging as I find them, complete with comments. Usually, but not always, interesting stuff I read about the Middle East.
- My Good Read widget - a good-looking and well-resourced online library of sorts, allowing you to track what you've read, what you thought about the books and see what friends are reading. Be warned, this is completely addictive and you will quickly be trying to remember every book you've ever read.
What else, what more? The new apartment is working wonderfully (one AC broke as I was writing this entry); Andrea is doing well and has started back at CASA, where she will be reading an Arabic novel a week. An important, and enjoyable, part of the summer has been getting to know some of her coursemates better and I'm looking forward to spending the next 9 months or so experiencing Cairo and Egypt with them. Also importantly, in addition to the aforementioned Mr. Nevadomski, it's been great to find out that more of mine and Andrea's friends will be returning to Egypt; Clare and Naya.
All in all, we're both excited to be here, although we now have to start plotting next year - more on this in the not too distant future.
I hope you're all well, please keep in touch - I have thus far been disappointed with the quantity of comments, dear reader - and please continue to read Tom in Egypt!
Salam, love, peace.
Here's a piece published today on Bikya Masr. I'll carry on pasting stuff into here, but I'd really recommend you have a look over at BM - particularly if you're interested in current affairs in Egypt.
Bibi comes to town
It’s been a busy couple of days for Egyptian intelligence chief Omar Suleiman. Last week he held talks with Khaled Meshaal, the exiled leader of Hamas, where apparent progress was made over a reconciliation deal between Fatah and Hamas, regarding a prisoner exchange between the two factions, and about the release of Israeli soldier Gilad Shalit.
Following Meshaal’s visit, Suleiman released a new set of proposals to the relevant parties in Palestine, based heavily on prisoner exchange and multi-party elections early next year. After two long years of division, there is a feeling that time is running out for reconciliation, particularly under Egyptian supervision: an unnamed Arab league official described this new plan as “Egypt’s last chance.” Suleiman is the man charged with the unenviable task of ending this division, and forging a Palestinian representative with the authority and willingness to provide a legitimate partner for negotiations with Israel. Egypt’s last chance is a chance, nonetheless.
Benjamin Netanyahu, the Israeli Prime Minister, is Suleiman’s next guest in Cairo (how many people can claim to having met both the leader of Hamas and the Israeli PM within a week? – answers on a postcard). His visit comes on the back of a newly authorized 455 homes to be built in the West Bank and statements to the effect that any proposed freezing of settlement activity would exclude some 2,500 homes already being built in the West Bank, as well as any building in annexed east Jerusalem. Bibi arrives in town tomorrow, but how will he be received by Mubarak and Suleiman?
Will this meeting be stiff handshakes, plastic smiles and platitudes – the diplomatic equivalent of a discussion about the weather? This would suit Netanyahu, who will want to talk about gas, Shalit, the Rafah border and the smuggling tunnels, the lack of an aforementioned negotiating partner, perhaps even Farouk Hosni’s UNESCO nomination. Anything but the settlements.
Or will Suleiman cut to the chase? After two years of mind bogglingly excruciating diplomacy to mediate between Fatah and Hamas, Suleiman can see the faint glimmer of the fruit of his labor. The two parties are actually considering his proposal, each set to respond within the next 48 hours. With an agreement signed, we could plausibly expect a united, elected Palestinian government in place by early next year. But Suleiman knows that if Netanyahu continues to authorise the building of settlements in the West Bank his work may all be in vain. Whether Hamas, Fatah, Meshaal, Abbas or any other leader or group, anything other than a complete and permanent cessation in settlement construction is unacceptable: no Egyptian crafted, moderate, legitimate Palestinian representation would want to negotiate with Israel under the current circumstances. After two painstaking, thankless years, it must take every shred of human restraint for Suleiman not to scream this at Netanyahu.
Will Mubarak and Suleiman be able to succeed where the US has not in securing a settlement freeze? Unlikely. But with George Mitchell also visiting the region next week, they could certainly apply some timely and hard fought pressure.
If I’m an international rugby player, Travis Randall must be a blogger and activist
0 comments at Wednesday, September 09, 2009Here's a post published today on Bikya Masr, about an American refused entry at Cairo airport last week.
When I tell people I’m an international rugby player, they take a second glance. “Surely not?” I see flash across their eyes as they assess my less than athletic physique. I’m no Jonah Lomu, but it’s true. Well, sort of. I’ve played rugby for an international team? Well, sort of. I’ve played against a national team? Well, sort of. In truth, I played as part of an Expat XV who beat an Egyptian XV (not recognised by the IRB at the time) in the first match where an all-Egyptian team was represented. On a school playing field in Maadi. For the first half.
It’s not entirely inaccurate for me to describe myself as an “international rugby player” although it is misleading. My deception, however, is harmless. The way Travis Randall has been portrayed in the national, and now international, press is quite the opposite. When Travis was stopped at the airport everyone’s minds flashed straight back to Wael Abbas being similarly detained in Cairo on his way back from Sweden, back in June. Updates via Twitter, laptop and phone seized, no reasons given. Whilst Wael’s detention is certainly no less deplorable, the two men’s stories bear little resemblance. Rather, the media and human rights groups – perhaps out of laziness or perhaps more sinister reasons – recycled Wael’s story changing a few minor details; times, names, places. Travis Randall the freelance writer and sometime consultant thus became Travis Randall the American activist and blogger.
Being an activist and blogger here in Egypt is not for the faint-hearted. One cursory online search reveals the important and brave role bloggers play here, at tremendous personal risk. Look no further than Abbas’ blog Misr Digital or Twitter account. This is in no way to say that Wael Abbas is any more legitimate a target for Egyptian Authorities, but rather that when people say “blogger and activist” in an Egyptian context, this is what springs to mind. The national and international media knows this and are now using these associations to their own ends.
Travis Randall is a blogger. Well, sort of. Travis Randall is an activist. Well, sort of. He has a blog that had, before he was refused entry, been in disuse for over 2 years. It is an infrequent personal record of one young man’s time in Egypt, the kind of stuff probably read by family and friends back home. It reminds me a lot of my own blog, attracting around 4 hits a day, three of which are almost certainly my mother. He once attended a 10 person rally in support of Gaza during the Israeli war on the Strip in January. It wasn’t mentioned on the blog, though.
“Travis Randall, American blogger and activist” isn’t entirely inaccurate, but it is dangerously and irresponsibly misleading.
This morning as I browsed through the feed of the people I follow on Twitter, I was saddened to stumble across this: @monaeltahawy "got my 1st death threat. Someone angry at my Wash Post oped on Yale + Danish cartoons. His email has been passed onto the law enforcement."
Mona is a well known and respected writer and speaker on Arab and Muslim issues whose articles are published in English and Arabic all over the world. I particularly enjoy her direct and uncompromising arguments, especially on women's issues - whether you agree with her opinion or not it's refreshing to hear such refreshingly honest criticism.
The subject of her latest contribution, published in the Washington Post, was the debacle at Yale University Press after they decided that a book written about the controversy following the publication of those Danish cartoons in 2005 should, in fact, not contain the offending images. It is a well argued, nuanced piece that recognises the offensive nature of the images, but questions:
1) The timing of the anger across the Muslim world: "What occurred across many Muslim-majority countries in 2006 was a clear exercise in manufacturing outrage. Consider:
Jyllands-Posten published the cartoons in September 2005. The widespread protests in majority-Muslim countries that eventually left more than 200 dead did not start until about four months later. Indeed, when an Egyptian newspaper reprinted one cartoon in October 2005 to show readers how a Danish newspaper was portraying the prophet, no backlash was heard in Cairo or elsewhere."
2) The double standard of the outrage: "The cowardice shown by Yale Press recognizes none of the nuance that filled my conversations in Copenhagen nor discussions I had with Muslims in Qatar and Egypt during the controversy. Many told me they were dismayed at the double standards that stoked rage at these Danish cartoons yet did not question silence at anti-Semitic and racist cartoons in the region’s media."
and, principally:
3) The fact that Yale removing the images from a book highlighting them as Islamophobic and trying to promote serious academic discourse on the matter proves "what Flemming Rose said was his original intent in commissioning the cartoons — that artists were self-censoring out of fear of Muslim radicals?
Yale has sided with the various Muslim dictators and radical groups that used the cartoons to “prove” who could best “defend” Muhammad against the Danes and, by extension, burnish their Islamic credentials. Those same dictators and radicals who complained of the offence to the prophet’s memory were blind to the greater offense they committed in their disregard for human life. (Indeed, some of those protesters even held banners that said, “Behead those who offend the prophet.”)"
Regardless of whether you agree with her assessment, and I do, for Eltahawy to receive a death threat over the piece is nothing short of obscene. To make matters worse, Masrawy - a site I usually enjoy for its timely content on Egyptian affairs - published an article selectively translating sections of the original piece that seems only to serve as provocation for their readers to fill the comments section with yet more ugly threats (the only comment I read defending Eltahawy seems to have mysteriously disappeared).
Through-mixed with the poison of such threats, there is an odd irony, as the author herself recognises: @monaeltahawy "Someone angry at stereotyping of Muslims for being violent threatens to kill me = what? During Ramadan no less. Wow."
No further comment.
Actually two further comments, if anyone else wants to chip in I'll post your comments on this entry as and when!
2 comments:
The train from Alex to Cairo is usually a very pleasant affair. By far the best way to get between the two cities, the gas powered Turbine train can make the 208km journey in just under two and a half hours, whilst passengers in both first and second class enjoy wide reclining seats and powerful air conditioning. At 35 LE for second class and 50 LE for first class, the train provides an affordable, although not cheap, means for Cairenes to escape the furnace that is Cairo in August to the breezy, sweeping sea-front of Alexandria.
As I boarded yesterday's two o'clock - first class, "no space in second I'm afraid sir" - I was not greeted with the wall of dry, cool, conditioned air to which I have become accustomed on such trips, but rather by a stagnant, humid heat that on a hot day makes Alexandria intolerable in the summer. "We're working on fixing the AC," the guard assured me, before I nodded off with my first class seat fully reclined. Shortly before the train was due to leave, and as the carriage was filling up with travellers no doubt reluctant to be making the return trip to Cairo, I was awoken from my afternoon nap by angry shouts behind me. "So what have I paid 50 pounds for?..What do you mean it's only broken in this car?..Why can't I change my ticket?" An angry mob, led by three or more fifty-something women were unhappy about the air conditioning situation and were baying for blood. One brave husband ventured to suggest there was nothing this man could do about it, only for his wife to resume her volley of questions to the guard. After the guard retreated to find another poor soul to become the object of carriage #3's fury, I listened as they continued their complaints, fascinated by how, to this group of travellers, a simple technical failure became ever increasingly symbolic of a troubled Egypt.
The difference between first and second class on these trains, in practical terms, is tiny. 3 seats to a row rather than 4. For me, it's not worth the 15LE extra. For this group of ladies, however, the fact they had paid, and could afford the extra money was clearly important. For them, it was far more troubling that the lowly people riding second class had what they did not - working AC - than was the heat itself. As a resigned youth sitting beside me politely told the complainers that their efforts wouldn't change anything, that they'd sit down and the train would leave and the AC would still be broken, a uniformed police officer told them the same thing, ordering that the complaints stop, before he himself changed carriages.
As the train pulled into Sidi Gaber, a few opportunists followed the officer's lead and a new group of travellers boarded the train. They showed a more bemused, knowing acceptance on hearing the news - "typical in this country... this wouldn't happen in Jordan, Syria." Of the various words they used to describe the train, and Egypt, one stands out: ta'ban. Tired. Sick.
Continuing south, and with temperatures inside the carriage becoming unbearable, tempers flared as one man tries to make an official complaint to the guard. After minutes of shouting in a way the Arabic language seems perfect for, and with popular support mounting with shouts of "Aiwa! (Yes!)" the beleaguered guard stormed from the carriage, telling the man to make his complaint at the station.
Although exhausted by the end of the journey, I wandered along, bag in hand, to make a complaint to the appropriate official. But for all the talk, anger and frustration, not a single other passenger from carriage #3 was there to complain to the authorities. They were tired. Daunted by the infamous Egyptian bureaucracy, and wanting to get home, I left without making a complaint.
After spending a few quiet days outside Nuweiba on a beautiful sandy beach (Softbeach, last post), we decided that it was really getting a little too warm to be sleeping without AC and headed to Dahab - Sharm's slightly less tacky and quiter little sister an hour or so up the coast. Dahab is a wonderful little town. Yes it's touristy and yes some things are a little more expensive than they would be elsewhere in Egypt, but generally it's an excellent place to lie down next to the sea in an open air cafe and enjoy some good sea food and sheesha and not really do very much. So, for the last couple of days that is all we've done (along with a touch of obligatory snorkelling of course). Tonight I'm hoping to catch the Spurs match and then it's back on the road, and we have a 9 hour overnight bus ride back to Cairo to look forward to, followed by a Meedan shift and teaching at the Coptic Cathedral tomorrow. This last week has been just what the doctor ordered though, definitley worth the horrible bus rides.
For the first time since arriving in Egypt, I now have reliable access to wireless in my place of residence. Gone are the days of sharing a cable so worn that it has to be combined with a screwdriver to connect to my laptop. Andrea and I have, after much to-ing and fro-ing over the decision, moved to a new apartment. Charming as the old place was, the noise from the "samkaree" on the street below as he vainly pounded at already-battered old cars was starting to send us both slightly crazy, and after a minor brawl on the street outside we decided it was time to go. Thankfully the landlord, a true gentleman, was happy to return our deposit to us, allowing us to look for another place. A couple of days and a quick flat search later we moved into the new place, which is considerably larger, with WiFi and a washing machine for the same price. All in all a good deal I'm sure you'll agree. The flat itself is looking good, decorated with Egyptian movie posters (some classy, some not-so) I'm rushing a little at the moment so no pics as yet, but soon I promise.
Mum’s turned the screws again re: the lack of blog entries, so here we go.
It’s been a busy couple of weeks here in Cairo, which after the lazy first few weeks I spent here makes a nice change! I’ve been flitting around Cairo looking for more work and good experience with some success – I’m now copy editing for two publishers and a total of 6 magazines (after a recount) – as well as working plenty for Meedan in the absence of some of the regular team members and preparing my ever more lively Level 4 class for their final exam on Wednesday. I’ve enjoyed teaching more than I thought I would, I’m excited to have a new class at the ETC in September and in the meantime I’m going to be teaching a conversation class at the Coptic Cathedral here – somewhere I’ve never visited – for August .
Hopefully the break from the ETC will allow us to do some travelling this month, as Andrea has her summer vacation, and we have various plans of places and people to visit. I’m still hoping we can battle the heat and go to Siwa for the start of Ramadan, and it’d also be great to spend a more extended period back in Alex. Failing either of those, or perhaps in addition to, I’m always keen to get back to Dahab and at some point – though probably not this break – I need to go south to Aswan and Luxor. Something for the Autumn methinks.
For those of you interested and previously unaware, I have now officially graduated with a 1st in Middle Eastern and Modern European Languages (all of them..), congratulations to all my classmates, it made me extremely happy to see everyone in the graduation photos.
I promise that my next update will be less of a, well, update as to what I’m doing and will contain more interesting thoughts as to life in Egypt and my experience here: it’s tough to get all of that in whilst satisfying my mother’s thirst for news!
I do hope everyone’s well, particular thoughts go out to Submerge this week and my darling sister in Croatia. Don’t forget – you can always email me here and my Skype, for those of you with the technology is tom.trewinnard
Salam.
It's been an exciting, busy, tiring, stressful, fun, chaotic, excellent first month back here in Egypt. Four weeks have flown by and I feel like I've been here forever, and as a result of my ever increasingly busy schedule I've not posted an update for a little while. After spending a little while sitting on my hands, cleaning the flat and generally not doing very much - much needed after a busy last few weeks at uni, no regrets - I decided to be a little more pro-active with my job search and started ringing people, firing off more emails, and turning up unannounced at offices. Happily the first office I tried was that of the Episcopal Training Centre, a language centre run by the Diocese of Egypt. After explaining what I was looking for and what I was willing to do, I was hired as an English teacher by the director and have now been an English teacher for almost two weeks. As I'm new and my experience is limited, I only teach one class (6 hours a week) with a view to taking on more in September, but I've really enjoyed the first couple of lessons and the staff and students at the centre are extremely welcoming and accommodating.
Just a quick post today, in honour of Egypt's masterful mauling of Italy last night. Watched the game with the CASA kids in Gad (budget kebab and kofta chain) Maadi, the place went crazy at the final whistle after an outrageously tense final 15 mins, where Hadari kept Egypt's hopes alive. With performances like that against Brazil and Italy, should have no problem brushing aside the US and qualify from the group on their march to the final! Yallah Misr! I can't think of anywhere else I've been that a group stage victory in the Confederations CUp would have been celebrated with dancing on the street, it all brought back wonderful memories of the African Cup of Nations victory 18 months ago.
Great news: at long last we have in-flat internet! It's not an ideal situation (running a 30ft cable from the landlord's flat through our window) but the exhausting routine of trekking around 4 or 5 internet and wireless-capable cafés is finally over. This also means that I can once again return to Tom in Egypt, as for the past few days whenever I've been near an internet connection I've been hooked to following what's going on in Iran. As if I didn't have big enough Twitter addiction problems already....
Here are some photos of our place, though I'm not sure they really do it justice.
..is leaving, and the view of the beautifully lit Citadel by night on the way home. I’d naively forgotten the nature of the Carrefour beast and was actually looking forward to the trip in the taxi on the way there. Initial excitement fast evaporated as I saw the ant-like hordes entering the mall and flocking towards the hypermarché. After an exhausting hour or so hunting for things for the flat – pans, knives, bins and the like – I retired to the nearest restaurant and abused their bottomless drinks, tortilla chips and salsa offers and waited for Andrea to get back with the other food items we needed. It’s difficult to explain the Carrefour madness to people who’ve never been as it’s really unlike anything I’ve experienced anywhere else. There have been times, I admit, when I have rushed to Carrefour in Alex as a safe-haven to buy some reasonable cheese and half-decent bread, but every time I go on a more concerted shopping trip the experience is somewhat soul destroying. Picture trying to do food shopping on a match day at Old Trafford, or Boxing Day sales with trolleys. I can see its appeal to middle and upper class Egyptians who can justify the inflated price tags because they can buy everything they need there, like at Tesco Express. But one of the things that I enjoy most about wandering through places like the street market on Mohammed Farid, next to our apartment, is that you can find a shop for everything. One man sells plastics, the next sells eggs. One man sells bread, the next is more of a lime specialist. I also love the way that shops group together here: on our street there are maybe six shops selling glasses and sunglasses in a row of seven. In other neighbourhoods I’ve seen stationery, kitchen supplies and even prosthetic limbs sold this way. Happily, Carrefour won’t threaten these shops too much any time soon, I suspect – with only a handful of stores it doesn’t have the presence to enjoy the stranglehold Tesco has on the UK market – but one feels it may only be a matter of time. For now though, I’m happy to enjoy buying onions and carrots from different shops.
Nouredin = Hero. Two long afternoons trailing round in mid-afternoon heat finally paid off as we found an excellent little flat 10 minutes walk from Andrea’s bus stop that is excellently air conditioned and generally very homely. It’s in a really great part of town that is very Egyptian – we live in front of a subsidised bread stand and above a makeshift coffee shop – but that is also not too far away from the trendy cafés of Tahrir. Everyone we’ve met here has been extremely friendly and welcoming and people are trying to help us with everything from the internet to the washing machine and to the sofa I broke after being in the flat a mere 3 hours. Guinness World Record anyone? I think it may be the result of 2 days of kosharee and one cheesy bites pizza.
This morning we went shopping in the local street market for some groceries and cleaning products, which I then deployed in expert fashion in a revival of my pro-lifeguarding days, “squeejee-ing” the floors with meticulous accuracy and speed. It’s looking good – I’m reluctant to upload pictures just yet as we have some work to do putting up posters, buying throws etc. but I’ll sort it ASAP. We also have plenty of space for people to stay, so Ahlan wa Sahlan!
Right, off to Carrefour to buy towels, bedding and all things nice. More soon!
After taking a couple of days to enjoy Cairo and kosharee the exhausting search for an apartment is now well and truly on. As previously mentioned, the dirty Americans at the AUC have swine flu (although there are now some unconfirmed rumours on Twitter that there has been a first Egyptian infected) and her classes were cancelled until Monday, which means she can help look for a place. We visited Maadi (location of suspected Egyptian swine flu case), which is closest to the AUC after its move from the handily located Downtown campus, and decided that it was very beautiful and would probably be a nice place to live, but that we'd actually prefer to try the Downtown chaos for a while. In that vein we hiked round the areas surrounding Meedan Tahrir led by an energetic and resourceful simsar - the man who finds people a flat. The way the simsars work is amazing, they seem to be able to know someone in every building and a phone number to call to see whether a flat is available. Their local knowledge and networking ability is truly astounding - I have no idea how Nouredin (our simsar) manages this whilst studying for a law MA. Speak of the devil, we're off to meet him now (Nouredin not the devil) and I've killed two laptop batteries in the time it's taken me to check emails and write an update. More soon, love and peace.
This update is being written from Amsterdam’s Schiphol airport – an oddly designed bike wheel shaped place with a landing runway so far from the terminal I could swear we were in France – which, yet again, has no free WiFi access. Astonishing. The journey thus far has been pleasant enough and I had enjoyed a long morning with my family before I set off buying last minute essentials such as swimming shorts and Earl Grey and eating croissants. They (my family not the croissants) came in particularly handyy when I belatedly discovered that my baggage allowance was not the meagre 20 kilos I’d previously bemoaned, but rather a generous 2 piece deal each of which could weigh up to a hefty 23 kilos. At this point I hoisted my darling brother into the loft to dig out a hard case for a guitar which (Inshallah) will still be in one piece on arrival in Cairo and will not cut the solitary, unplayed figure I described in my previous missal.
Worryingly, all the news this morning on the Twitosphere was of a swine flu outbreak at the AUC which had led to the short term cancellation of all classes but I couldn’t get hold of Andrea to find out more details. After a difficult first few days back with lost luggage and an excruciatingly long flight I think pig flu might be one straw too many on the back of a proverbial camel. It seems the tactic of burying pigs alive in their thousands hasn’t paid off then. Who knew? Interestingly, the guy sat opposite me is wearing one of those ominous looking face masks that became “de mode” at the height of the outbreak. I say he’s wearing it, he’s posing in it – round his neck as an attention seeking salute to swine flu. I’m just guessing, but I don’t think they are particularly effective unless they actually cover your mouth and nose. Maybe he got his info from the same source as the Egyptian government.
More later from Cairo when I arrive and secure some internet, for now here’s what I’m listening to and here’s what I’m reading.
With just three days until I leave, the time has come for me to pack up my belongings and my memories from my student life here in Manchester. Trying to fit a life into 20kg of suitcase is outrageously tricky and there's something very surreal about sorting things in order of importance, usefulness and weight. As you pack you have to remain almost as an outsider looking in on your life, objective, ruthlessly discarding the important and irreplaceable for the practical. Would that I could take my guitar or my wall hanging or my books! Leaving my books saddens me immensely, it seems such a waste that they sit lonely in a box until my return - but the odd sense of possession I feel towards they doesn't allow me to give them away. I've read them all, and may never read some of them again, but there are too many memories and thoughts and ideas tied up in the pages, too personal. Into the box it is then...
Whilst the tragedy of the boxed books and a guitar unplayed marks a definite closing of a chapter, I'm so pleased that my next journey will be in Cairo. Seeing Andrea there on Skype, hearing the Egyptian accents and the Cairo traffic makes me jealous I'm not there already. A few days will fly by, and I'll be a part of the chaos again - I can't wait. Welcome back to Tom in Egypt - I hope you enjoy the adventure.
Here are sites and blogs I read regularly and would recommend to anyone, particularly those interested in Egypt or the Middle East.
Bikya Masr - breaking through the clutter of Egyptian news
SON OF A DUCK - an orientalist's observations in Egypt
The Arabist - a website on Arab politics and culture
Syria News Wire - fresh, independent news from the streets of Damascus and beyond
Informed Comment - thoughts on the Middle East, history and religion
Dormir Debout - thoughts of a student of old Iranian languages at SOAS
THE BOURSA EXCHANGE - a comment on daily life in downtown Cairo
Saudi Jeans - news, commentary, and personal views on political and social issues in Saudi Arabia
Abu Aardvark - comment on Middle Eastern affairs
At War (NYT) - notes from the front line (formerly Baghdad Bureau)
Tom Trewinnard is a graduate of the University of Manchester (Middle Eastern and Modern European Languages) currently living in Cairo, working as English Language Editor of the Arab-West Report, Meedan.net content producer, contributor to Bikya Masr, freelance copy editor, and English teacher.
"El Rumi" refers not to the poet but to the pepper, my stature apparently suffering by comparison to that of another Tom "El Tawil" (Tall Tom).
Tom is contactable via: tom.trewinnard@gmail.com
Posts
Hello Tom,
Interesting post. I do agree with the writer's criticism of the timing of the violent protests which saw the loss of so much human life. The irony in defending a man accused of violence, through violent means is beyond ridiculous. It is all down pretty much to the fact that we sway with the media, the more media coverage, the more the 'dominant' method of 'protest' becomes the only way of showing 'love' and 'support' - yes, it is wrong.
However, I do not think that Yale's decision to not print the cartoons themselves in the book has made them side with the violent extremists and other self-righteous and murderous groups. I think you have to see their decision to not print seperately from the other incidents. To me, it is not "cowardice" but it is a consideration and respect for man held in great esteem and regard by a large and substantial population of this planet, who DO find those cartoons offensive. Do you understand what I am trying to say? Why can't their decision be seen as an independent one? It is not to be compared with the anti-semitic cartoons in the middle east- which yes ARE wrong.. But since when are other people's wrongs to be a reason to adjust our own principles?
Just my thoughts.
Hey Fadhila,
Here's a piece from the NYT discussing the decision, interesting reading:
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/08/13/books/13book.html?_r=1
And here's Yale UP's statement:
http://yalepress.yale.edu/yupbooks/KlausenStatement.asp
If the decision were taken to avoid offence, I think there could be a better case made (although I'd still disagree) but the statement seems to suggest that the decision was taken to avoid violent reprisals, with the caveat that if the reader wanted to view the offending cartoons (although perhaps not the other images of the prophet originally included eg. the Ottoman print) they could do so easily on the internet.
I understand that the cartoons were and are deeply offensive, and certainly a stupid thing to publish in the first place. But in the context of a rigorous academic discussion of the cartoons and with the author's express opinion that the images are Islamophobic I think their inclusion in the book is important, and I don't see how a repeat of the 2006 events is likely. As Reza Aslan notes in the NYT piece "“The controversy has died out now, anyone who wants to see them can see them,” he said of the cartoons, noting that he has written and lectured extensively about the incident and shown the cartoons without any negative reaction."
I'm not sure I fully agree that Yale has sided with violent extremists either, I know they're trying to tread carefully - rightly so - but I think they came up with the wrong conclusion, and that the decision was taken far more out of cowardice than out of respect.