Tom in Egypt // توم في مصر

Being 21 allows me to:

• Adopt a child.

• Supervise a learner driver if you have held, and still hold, a full licence for that type of car for at least three years. You can apply for a provisional licence to drive a large passenger vehicle.

• Obtain a flight navigator’s licence, a flight engineer’s licence or an airline transport pilot’s licence to fly an aeroplane, helicopter or gyroplane.

• Be sent to prison if I receive a custodial sentence.

• Become a Member of Parliament, a local councillor or a local mayor.

• Drink in the US (something that has only recently become relevant).
  

Friday 14^th March 2008 was my 21^st birthday. Birthdays are usually something I’m fairly ambivalent towards, this year especially as I’m so far away from family and the plans I’d made with Andrea had been left up the chute (Alan loves...?). A few times in recent weeks I had sort of half-said perhaps we should maybe go possibly for drinks on Thursday night, as I was coming to Cairo on Friday for dinner with Michael (who was in town along with 36 children from his school in Karachi), but by Thursday my plans had progressed no further, and, with some gentle persuasion from Tall Tom I agreed to drinks at our place. We agreed 7ish-8ish and went to Miami to get a haircut. This story is for another entry; sadly I didn’t get any pictures. I went home and chatted briefly to Andrea before her computer decided it was lactose intolerant and stopped playing. Tom ordered in some beers and I put on a shirt, blew up some balloons and put up some of the birthday paraphernalia sent from the UK by my darling mother. By half eight, I admit to being slightly perturbed at the poor showing from my friends, although I was enjoying beer and chocolate covered dates with almonds with Sian, Aala and Dalia who had come along. Suddenly I was rushed out of the flat in a flurry of balloons (beautifully pluralised “Balaneen” in Arabic) and packed into Shams’ car before being whisked off, with a few pickup stops, to a mystery destination. This was a well organised and nicely executed kidnapping with no warning. My only suspicions had been aroused when Tom uncharacteristically beat me at Pro Evolution Soccer earlier in the day. Arriving at a flat in the holiday complex of Mamora I was greeted by all my friends from TAFL and a load of the guys from rugby. An excellent party ensued with plenty of Egyptian beer and foreign booze, no complaining neighbours and a pleasantly warm evening. I’m not entirely sure who to thank, the organisers and helpers have kept themselves very quiet, but THANKYOU to all involved, you know who you are. I had an awesome night and couldn’t have asked for a better birthday bash, I hope you had a good night. Thankyou!

After catching up on some sleep I boarded the 3 o’clock to Cairo to meet Michael and his school. I had a nice meal and a fun weekend meeting and getting to know the young ladies and gentlemen of the British Overseas School Karachi, whose behaviour, manners and enthusiasm were exemplary, and whom I look forward to seeing in Karachi in a few weeks.

Thanks again for the party and for all the birthday wishes, I’d love to respond to everyone individually but this week is going to be crazy as I try and do mid-term exams as well as preparing for my trip to Karachi on Friday. All for now, hopefully more before I leave!

Lots of love,

Txx

So, as the more observant amongst you may have noticed, my latest update has been somewhat delayed. The last couple of weeks have been long and exhausting and the hardest I’ve had in Egypt, but in order to tell the full story I have to go way, way back to Some Time Before Christmas and introduce you to someone who, until now, has only had fleeting references in this blog (for reasons I with which I shall not bore you but about whom I will write with beautifully positioned prepositions).

I first met Andrea Alice Richardson in the upstairs of the TAFL centre, where she introduced herself to me in beautiful flowing Fusha with a charming American accent. At the time I was confused as to why we were speaking Arabic, English made more sense to me, but she was sticking earnestly to a “Pledge” she had made to speak only Arabic. This thankfully only lasted until an English/American sojourn to a Café and Bar, where I was impressed by Andrea’s remarkable sheesha-smoking ability and captivating smile. Apparently won-over by my remarkable eyebrows, my not-so-secret love of JT and my shorts and dad-sandals combination, she agreed to go out with me a few times and before I knew it we’d been on a wonderful weekend trip to Cairo and Andrea had become a huge part of my happiness and feeling of settled-ness here. Time and space do not allow for accounts of the many unforgettable adventures we’ve been on together and I will always regret being unable to write about them at the time, but it suffices to say that my time here would not have been the same without her.

Andrea and me somewhere in the Western Desert

On Saturday, 23^rd February I awoke to the sound of my phone. Still half asleep I staggered over to answer it, smiling as I saw “Andrea Calling” written in Arabic on the screen accompanied by the little picture of a chick which she chose for herself when she first gave me her number 5 months or so earlier. Writing about the 24 hours that followed me answering that phone call is a near impossible task, as my memories are a kind of painful, terrifying blur, but I will never forget how, in broken English, an unfamiliar voice told me “This person has had an accident in the road”. These last few weeks has been dominated by two moments, the second of which will follow. That moment, just a split-second before Andrea snatched the phone from the woman telling me where she was and vaguely what had happened, unwittingly putting me instantly at ease, lasted a lifetime. In that second, a flood of questions instantly hit me, the answer to every single one of which I didn’t want to know, dreading my darkest fears would be realised. I don’t think I’ll ever feel more perversely grateful to hear someone tell me they’ve been hit by a car and are lying in the road as I felt when I heard Andrea’s voice. That glimmer of relief vanished in a heartbeat as I raced to find her, thankfully arriving before the ambulance, from where I could only look on helplessly as the person I love screamed in heart-wrenching pain.

Andrea had been hit by a kind of minibus called a Mashroua which drives up and down the Corniche taking passengers for the equivalent of 5p. The Corniche is an enormous 10 lane freeway which runs the 18km length of Alexandria. It is perilously fast and claims tens if not hundreds of lives a year, as people attempt to cross in the areas where there is a sickening absence of tunnels or walkways. At the point Andrea crossed at, the Corniche is 5 lanes wide, with all traffic travelling in one direction. I found her in the road, conscious and surrounded by helpful and concerned onlookers who had phoned an ambulance, made sure she was not moved and applied first aid to a cut on her face. 3 hospitals, a lot of x-rays and hours of pain later we discovered that Andrea had suffered a nasty break (that’s the medical term ;) to her upper right femur which needed surgery fairly urgently. As you can probably guess I’m being fairly impressionistic in my overlooking the details of the day, it was completely horrendous and involved long hours of negotiating with parents, insurance companies and doctors the world over as well as a programme manager.

The evening of the accident and the few lonely nights that followed were indescribably tough as I tried to come to terms with what had happened and the implications were for our relationship, my time in Egypt, the plans we’d made and, medically, for Andrea. The second moment began to nag at me. The “what if?” moment. What if Andrea hadn’t tripped? What if I’d been with her? What if she’d come straight to my place? What if, what if, what if? For those first few days it engulfed me, leaving me angry, frustrated and completely unable to deal with anything. What didn’t happen plagued me more than what had, and I almost completely missed the flip-side of the “what if?” coin. What if the bus hadn’t been able to swerve? What if it’d been going 5 mph faster? What if I hadn’t arrived before the ambulance? What if she hadn’t been conscious when I arrived? When I consider the darker possibilities, I can only be left feeling grateful for the sad reality of what happened.

I’m now going to scan-forward, like a video tape, giving a very general gist of what happened in a squeaky voice. Andrea was in a lot of pain. The nurses gave her lot of pain killers. Many important visitors came and went, leaving the hospital room full of flowers. Most of the TAFL centre visited, which cheered Andrea up endlessly. Her girlfriends were amazing at taking care of her. The pain continued, as did the drugs. Daddy Richardson arrived from the States. More negotiations with aforementioned problematic insurance company ensued. Andrea managed to get a flight back to the States 10 days after being admitted to hospital and is now sat at home in Arizona recovering and recuperating. At least I hope that’s what she’s doing.

I’m now starting to try to adjust to life here without Andrea, and it’s going to be harder than I’d ever imagined. We always knew we’d have to say a tough goodbye sometime, but neither of us had been prepared for it to be so soon and under such difficult circumstances. Thankfully before she left I was able to buy tickets to visit her after I get back from my eagerly anticipated trip to Pakistan, and knowing when I will see her again helps a lot. Still, everything here holds a memory of which Andrea is inextricably a part (one gold star for that delightfully fronted preposition) and I will miss her terribly. I’ll keep writing over the next few weeks, in two weeks you’ll have to temporarily suspend belief as I write not as Tom In Egypt, but as Tom In Pakistan, followed closely by a Tom In Tucson exclusive. All these special editions, you lucky readers you.

In other news, Friday saw my international debut on the rugby field as part of the all-star rest of the world team that beat Team Egypt in their first match. Watching a hapless England lose to Scotland on Saturday leads me to think my Six Nations call up is only a matter of time...

Tx

Sat in my lounge I am well wrapped up, fully dressed, in my sleeping bag wearing an "Ice Cap" as they're known over here - a beanie to the rest of the world. I have no idea how it is this cold here. The wind is literally whistling through my flat making my music barely audible. I remember a few weeks ago sitting on a beach in Sharm on the 3rd of January, and now I don't even want to go outside. Last night as I walked Andrea to a taxi the heavens completely opened and by the time I'd found a taxi I was so soaked that there was no point in running back as I couldn't have been any wetter.

Saturday and Sunday, however, were another story. On Saturday morning it was pleasantly sunny and I spent the morning wandering round the Souq in Manchea, mostly buying Frankincense and Sandalwood, which smell delicious when burned on hot coals. I also managed to find some better coals for my beautiful new sheesha which I purchased in Dahab, all very important. After that I went down to Cairo with a few of my fellow Mancs, I was going to pick up my passport from the Pakistani embassy on Sunday and a few of us were going for various reasons so we made a little trip of it. We spent most of the night in a bar in Zamalek that is reminiscent of Cape d'Or in ALex in many ways, not least how the waiters tack on countless extra beers to the bill hoping that you're too drunk to notice - rarely the case. The next morning I shot over to the embassy where I became the proud owner of a Pakistani visa. I was slightly worried/irritated that they gave me a visa for 10 days in spite of the fact I had told them I was staying for 15, but I've been reassured I can get an extension easily enough in Karachi. We then went up to the Citadel, somewhere I'd tried to go with my parents but had been closed. The views of the city from up there are amazing and extend all the way to the pyramids (I'll upload pictures as and when Clarabelle gives me them). The Muhammad Ali mosque looks like it has seen better days but is still very impressive from the inside, even if the constant plague of tourists take something away from the spiritual atmosphere. The same can be said of places such as Coptic Cairo, and I find myself getting irate at tourists who seem to show an ignorance bordering on disrespect in such holy places. I suppose I'm a tourist too and therefore as guilty as anyone else.

Back to TAFL today and this week I hope to confirm a few more dates re: the summer as I try and book flights and find jobs etc. I'm still thinking southern Spain, have half-applied for something which I think will be very cool if it comes off. I'll let you all know in due time! I'm also trying to find time in my hectic schedule to go to all the places here that I've not been able to get to thus far, they are many. I definitely have to make it to Luxor and Aswan, I think Petra is important, the Libyan desert would be wonderful but perhaps impractical due to all the entry restrictions, and I'd still love to get to Syria. So little time and money and so much to see! There are also places here I'd kill to get back to, but given the tight time frame I probably won't make it to, Siwa instantly springs to mind. It was also really sad to leave Dahab knowing that it will be at least a few years before I make it back to a place that holds so many wonderful memories for me. The year feels like it's flying at the moment, and it almost feels like it's winding down as we hit the last 3 months. At the moment I think it would be very hard to resist the urge to come back to the Middle East after I graduate as the opportunities and life here tied to my knowledge that if I want to get really good at Arabic there's really only one way to do it.

Adios for now.

Txx

So, about two weeks later than expected, here's the word from Egypt (Present in red):
As you may remember from my last post, I was about to embark on my first trip to the Suez Canal. Here's what I wrote to update my blog whilst I was there. It might sound crazy - I certainly didn't believe it - but when I got back from Ismailia Egypt was in the midst of an internet blackout after an unwitting captain decided to drop anchor on not one, but both of Egypt's sub-Mediterranean internet cables, causing Egypt and some of the Middle East and North Africa to lose internet for a few days. Excuses, excuses, excuses....

Ismailia (around two weeks ago):
Back from my first trip to deepest darkest Ismailia, I'm writing from a Cairo buzzing after Egypt's progression to the knock-out stages of the African Cup of Nations, even if they could only manage a disappointing draw against lowly Zambia (more to follow on the football). I watched tonight's game in a slightly upmarket but still traditional (and, crucially beer-serving) Ahwa, and the atmosphere was second to none. It's really an amazing thing to be a part of.


Back to the Canal. Not really knowing what we had let ourselves in for, tall Tom, Aala and I jumped on a bus and five hours later landed in the canal town of Ismailia. It already being dark, and with us sticking to our tried and tested policy of not booking anywhere to stay before we arrive, we decided to find lodgings, which we managed after some minor problems, and head out for dinner and surprisingly expensive drinks. The next morning we were told that the hotel had a surprisingly large booking and we had to vacate our rooms, so before exploring the wonders of the town we checked into a grubby, dilapidated youth hostel (a bargainous 15LE per night with breakfast) by which time the weather had turned decidedly chilly with plenty of wind and rain.

We spent the afternoon and evening seeing the "tourist" sites of the town, the highlight of which was an Israeli bunker on the Sinai side of the canal. The canal itself is surprisingly narrow, and when you see one of the enormous tankers passing through it almost looks as if they're sailing on the land. Impressive stuff. That night we went to the Mercure to see if their bar had cheaper drinks then anywhere else in Ismailia (box ticked), and there was the added bonus of a piano for customer use. After a few singalongs and towards the end of the night, the barman praised our efforts: "You two have very nice voices, BUT, can you play Titanic?" For some reason, along with Hero by Enrique Iglesias, Celene Dion's masterpiece is more popular than you can ever imagine here. Lovingly, due to popular demand, we obliged.



The next morning we left for differing destinations: Tom and Aala back to Alex, and me to Cairo to try and sort out my Pakistani visa, which brings you up to date (two weeks ago)

So much to write, this would be so much easier if I just kept regular updates. Egypt are playing tonight in the final of the aforementioned African Cup of Nations, and absolutely unmissable match. I'm now going to take a break from writing to go out with some amigos and watch it. I'll continue my lengthy update later, because now that we have internet in my flat, I can!

The next afternoon. So sorry for leaving you for the football. Where was I?....

After arriving in Cairo I met up with some friends who were off to a house night with some famous DJs and extortionate prices. I opted out and went for a night partying on one of the boats on the Nile, mucho fun. The next day I was struck down by an illness and stayed in my room sans food for about 30 hours, throughout which I couldn't move out of a 3 metre radius of a toilet. Upon recovery I came back to Alex to collect exam results and start back properly.

The exam results were pleasing, if not dazzling, as I got a good mark and placed well in the class. This means I can stay at my current level, which is what I really wanted. I've also opted to drop a couple of hours of Egyptian (I'm speaking more and more outside of class) and pick up an extra 2 hours of media, which entails watching and listening to the news channels which is one of the things I find hardest in Arabic. The first week back went well, and I seem to have discovered a previously untapped work ethic which has seen me write beautiful lists of vocab along with sentences to show each word in usage - there is hope for me yet!

On Thursday night we travelled 10 hours to Dahab to celebrate Lauren's 21st, a very fun couple of days in a wonderful place with some excellent people. A bloody long way for 2 days though :P We got back on Sunday morning at 10am just in time to celebrate Tom's birthday and catch the big match, which is where I left you I believe.

After writing my last passage in red I went to buy Tom's birthday present and then raced over (2 hours before the start of the match) to 24Seven, a trendy cafeteria with a big screen, which was getting busier and busier. Thanks to the patient, selfless and diligent heroics of Ahmed we had excellent seats for what turned out to be a pulsating match. As with all the matches I've seen here, every gesture on the field was greeted with applause, praise or disappointment, but this time there was a definite nervous edge amongst the flag waving, shirt wearing hoards that surrounded us. Egypt had the better of the first half, creating numerous chances but failing to finish any, and the tension continued to build until Egypt hit the post, by which time I thought the cafe was about to explode. Then, from nothing but a careless mistake by Cameroon's captain and most experienced defender Rigobert Song, Mohamad Zidan (the one the Egyptians call Zizou) somehow managed to haul himself from the floor to square to Abu Trika, who finished with a cool ruthlessness that Egypt had lacked all game. It wasn't the prettiest of goals, "soft" some might say, but I've never seen a goal met with such roars of ecstasy. Words cannot describe the crazy celebrations that followed, surpassed only by those after the final whistle when fireworks were flying, tablas beating, and people dancing in the street until very early in the morning. Awesome stuff.



Fans celebrating Egypt's victory in the African Cup of Nations

Well, I now have internet and will endeavour to update more often. I'm also planning not to have as breathless and exciting a second semester so there may be more time for reflection and writing. All for now, just to say that the title is the chant I shouted until I lost my voice after the match "Boos, shoof, Masr amalat eh!" = Look, look, look what Egypt's done
Not sure it works in translation but it was appropriate at the time!
Txxxx

3 exams down and one to go, I'm back at Porto to use the internet and in a desperate and ultimately unsuccessful attempt to watch Spurs vs. United in the cup - BBC says 1-1 at half time.

The first 3 exams all went fairly well although they were much harder than the last set, I'm confident about the Egyptian oral tomorrow though and then we have a week off (odd only two weeks after our winter break?) so a few of us are off to visit Ismailia, one of the cities on the Suez Canal.

It's been a good couple of weeks back, and although it's been tough, I've enjoyed getting back into the swing of things at the TAFL centre which is noticeably quieter now the Germans have left...... Going out with and catching up with all the people who fled Egypt for Christmas has been excellent as has going back to the various glamorous drinking establishments of Alexandria. It has, therefore, been a fairly sleepless few weeks, hence the title (also the title of an excellent book I'm reading at the moment). At the moment, for those of you who are less sportingly aware than myself, the African Cup of Nations is taking place in Ghana. Egypt is a completely football mad country, and they're the defending champions. We've been to watch a few games - they take it VERY seriously, screaming at every chance and half chance. Happily, they've won both games so far and are looking good for the later stages. I'd love to be at the party should they somehow win it again.

Last week also saw the latest in our series of matches against Cairo, and I was part of an under-strength team that was on the receiving end of a thrashing. At the moment we're the second best team in Egypt. In the clubhouse afterwards, though, we managed to organise what could well be the first match of something resembling an Egyptian National Rugby team, vs. a team of expats which I will hopefully be part of in Alex on Valentine's Day. Should be an interesting one, there's already a fair amount of banter flying around at training!

All for now, I'll try and write from Ismailia, I'm there for three days before a weekend in Cairo and then back to Alex to start the new term proper.

Txx

Yes, the long awaited, eagerly anticipated visit of my family has drawn to a close. They arrived on the 20^th of last month in the ever hectic madness of Cairo where I waited with open arms and a big taxi to transport them to the understated luxury of the Delta Pyramids Hotel. So understated was the luxury, in fact, that to the less observant of us the hotel may have appeared somewhat shabby and dilapidated. The saving grace of the DPH was its views of the Giza pyramids which never ceased to amaze my family, dad in particular. Thus the rooftop bar provided us with a stunning backdrop for our family’s first Christmas abroad, with presents and sheesha abounding. After a few chaotic days on the tourist circuit we jumped on board the express to Alex and three hours later arrived home. The last few days we were in Cairo was the first time I feel I’ve properly missed Alexandria and the Mediterranean; a sign of how settled I feel here perhaps.

On arrival we transferred straight to the Helnan Palestine hotel at the very eastern end of the city in the pleasant greenery of Montazah gardens. Thankfully the hotel and its stunningly picturesque setting – the views of Farouk’s palace from the balcony being a particular highlight – provided a perfect sanctuary for my family to relax after an excellent but stressful few days in the capital. Far happier in the relative calm of Alexandria, and with me feeling more confident in a city I know so well, we visited most of my regular haunts as well as going on enjoyable visits to the library and the catacombs. We also had a day out to the memorials and museum at Al-Alamein; a visit poignantly echoing memorable family holidays spent in Normandy. The contrast in scenery between the rolling green bocage of Normandy and the bleak, desolate desert of Al-Alamein couldn’t be starker but the cemeteries mirroring one another provide moving reminders of the truly global scale of the disaster that was the Second World War. The memories of long journeys to remote French museums with my family gave the day special meaning. The last 10 days have been the first family holiday and the longest time I’ve spent with them perhaps since those summers in France, and after four months of absence it’s been really special having them around again and being able to share my life in Egypt with them.

Once again I’m sat by the Red Sea enjoying the winter sun with Michael, the apparently now internationally renowned blogger. We’re here in what is really a very upmarket Russian-filled Butlin’s, but there is sun and sea and a few decent restaurants, and it’s nice just to be able to sit and read and chat and relax. Michael’s many stories of Pakistan are also making me particularly excited for my visit at the end of March; as Michael often says “if those bickering politicians mean I can’t stay, never mind one another, they’ll have me to deal with”. Sharm, unlike Dahab, is really a fairly soulless place that the people here tell me has changed and improved since my last visit, but it’s clean and quiet and everything Cairo and Alex aren’t – whether for better or worse. Michael leaves on Sunday and then I’m in Cairo for a little while before heading back to Alex to get cracking with all the translation that I’ve thus far put off; 2 sides of A4 into Arabic never seems to get any more appealing.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year

Tom xxx توم

PS. Pictures to follow - Inshallah

There is a new update imminent, I have it all typed out and perfectly ready however the computers in this internet cafe (Cyber as they're known here) are not as high tech and up-to-date as mine and can therefore not read my beautifully crafted prose. Good things come to those who wait.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, watch this space!

Tx