The apartment! شقة

It turns out that the school overbooked housing, so I'm no longer staying at the Marwa Palace, which is ok. I've learned that "palace" is a name meant to make up for a lack of stars. One boy got stuck in their elevator for twenty minutes. When the elevator finally arrived at a floor, the doorman refused to open it, because it was stuck at the girls floor. Also, their windows are the size of water bottles, and they don't have internet :)

I was out to dinner with Amr and my three friends from Kanzy at a restaurant on a boat on the Nile. Midway through our post-dinner sheesha, we got a call from the housing director, (whom I've been bugging to move us closer to campus). He asked whether we could meet him back at Kanzy. So, we went back and he told us to pack up. We asked if we could see the apartment first, and he said no, because there were girls moving into our rooms. This kinda freaked us out, but we complied. Lesley (my roomie), Erin (our friend next door), and I had to move tonight. Erin's roomie, Selena, our neighbor Eliza, and my friend Sara all came along to help us move.

So we get to the apartment, and walked in. Beautiful. Gorgeous. Spacious. Huge. Tiled floors and we have a full kitchen with some appliances and a bar and a dining room set and a breakfast nook, and satellite tv, and a couch, and chairs, and two bathrooms. And they will be paying a maid to clean the place! And there are three two-person bedrooms for six people. But wait, there are six of us! Uh oh. When Selena, Eliza, and Sara saw the apartment, they were floored. So Lesley said to Alex (Mr. Housing Director), "we all work really well together, and if possible we'd like to stay as a group." And he said yes!! So now I'm living in a fantastic apartment in the middle of the Nile, right across from downtown Cairo, with my five best friends here :) And they allow male visitor here.


Our doorman's name is Mahmood. The neighborhood has cute cafes, pubs, great bookstores, cheap grocery stores, and a small expat community. The one downside to this neighborhood is that we aren't forced to use our Arabic as much as in Dokki. In other ways it's easier to use our Arabic though, because it's not so sketchy, and I'm more comfortable talking to strangers. Also, we're allowed to have boys in our apartment. hehe.

The six of us have started a group blog: www.theeducatedharem.blogspot.com

The video is our sketchy elevator. It has no door!

Lesley's and my room. I have the big bed for now. (the one covered with crap). There are two other bedrooms. (there are also two full bathrooms!


The dining room/kitchen. Notice the bar!


Living room. The breakfast nook!

tampons...

I can't believe I'm posting this, but here goes :)

This afternoon I ran out of tampons. Not such a terrible thing when you live in an all-girls dorm, but everyone hates the girl who always mooches. I strolled to the pharmacy around the corner, and greeted the well-trimmed older man in the all white galabaya (ankle-lengthed tunic that conservative men wear), who owns the pharmacy. His little grandson helpfully followed me around the pharmacy as I circles it a few times, looking for the tampons. They were nowhere. I wondered whether they maybe weren't carried on principal. (They can be quite controversial in the Muslim and sometimes even Catholic world.) I don't know the word for tampon in Arabic, so I couldn't ask, but finally behind the counter, I spotted blue tampax boxes. I pointed to the box I wanted, but the owner didn't want to move from his chair by the door, so he called his son Mahmood from the next room. Young, handsome Mahmood reluctantly left his tv show. I pointed again to what I wanted, and he grabbed a package of Depends (diapers for old folks). I shook my head and pointed up. He grabbed the batteries. Frustrated, I imagined his horrified expression if I tried to act out what I wanted. I pointed to the left, and he passed me a box of tampons. Only they were super-plus sized. I motioned for other box, and finally he grabbed the ones I wanted. His father then got up to ring up my item. Thirty pounds for a box of twelve tampons. Fifty cents a tampon! Well-trimmed man then put my receipt along with two candies in my bag. Glad to know he likes me. While I've had my share of embarrassing things for one day, I'm proud to say I bought tampons from three generations of men in a Middle Eastern country.

driving بصيارة

My roomie Erin is sad she's missing rugby season. Contact sports are her outlet. Fortunately, we have crossing the street. While football is the national sport of Egypt, crossing the street is the people's sport. It embraces all walks of life, and requires no special equipment. (btw, we're still deciding which football team to support: to support Zamalek or Al Ahli. We're leaning towards Al Ahli, because Ahmed is threatening to end our friendship if we root for Zamalek).

AUC is in medan Tahrir, the busiest intersection in the busiest city in the busiest part of the world (not counting Singapore, Bangkok, and maybe a few more). The square is centered around a four lane rotary. Crossing the street requires full concentration, and should never be performed on an empty stomach (what a pity to die hungry). And don't wait for the little green man--yielding to traffic lights is unmanly. What if your fellow drivers suspected you to be light on the manhood... the horrors!).

When crossing the street, don't bite off too much at a time. Baby steps. Cross lane by lane. Step into the street. Cross the first lane. Calmly wait for the next lane to slow down. Cross the next lane. Don't run.

Rumor has it that all the white-clad police officers standing around are meant to write down the license plate numbers of traffic offenders. (Running red lights, etc.). At the end of the year, when you go to renew your license, you are fined a lump sum for all of your violations. Problem is, the police are required to record a certain number of numbers each month. This summer, Amr's father, went to renew his license, and had a fine of five pounds. Problem is, he's been living in Boston for the past year, and hasn't been driving in Cairo. How could he incur infractions without being in Cairo? But five pounds isn't very much, only a buck, so he chose not to fight it. If each person were overcharged five pounds they could pay of the national debt! However, if you know someone in the police, name-dropping usually cancels the charges. C'est la vie. Furthermore, this system employs all the police officers whose job it is to stand around and write down real, or not so real, numbers. Erin's "job creation" theory states why employ one person, when three can perform the job just as well? Here things "help a brotha" as efficiency is left behind.

Another one of the idiosyncrasies here is the lack of headlights at night. Some say it is meant to save gas (!?), but Amr said people don't like glare in their rear-view mirrors. Instead, the posher cars have been fitted with groovy blacklights on the underside of their bumper. They glow blue, and I look for LA-style hydraulics (no sightings yet).

Regarding parking: In the US it's deep shit if you bump another car while parking. In Europe, "kissing" the other's bumper is tolerated. Here, people leave their cars in neutral. If the space is too small, bump the car behind your intended space. It will slide back, and bump the car behind it. This starts a little dominoes, until the entire line of cars has scooched a few inches (or feet!) to enlarge your space. Also, cars sometimes double park. If a double-parked car is blocking your exit, it’s kosher to push the car (because it’s left in neutral!) in front of another’s car.

Taxis: don't pay until you are out of the cab. The moment you pay before exiting you've branded yourself as tourist, and have sacrificed any bargaining power you might have had.

In orientation, one student asked about buying a car. Tomader said absolutely not. When pressed for reasons, she said "you don't know how to drive here." The wannabe driver responded "I know how to drive!" Tomader shook her head. "Well, you don't know how to honk here."
"honk?"
"yes, honk."
"how hard can it be? toot toot!"
"there are many types of honks in egypt! you'd be lost in a second."
"many types of honks ?! like what"
"why there's the warning--I'm on your left, don't move over. then there's the f*** you honk. then there's the polite "thank you" honk. there's also the "look out, this is a blind turn" honk. and don't forget the "don't think about going there" honk. you see? you'd be lost. next question?"

a night on the town

For dinner I took the metro with Sara and Ben to Ma'adi. Ma'adi is a wealthier neighborhood south of downtown, where many expats and upper class Egyptians live. We went to a cafe where I discovered the joys of feter. Similar to a crepe, but thicker, we split one with nutella and cinnamon for dinner. The joys of living without parents.







































Later I met up with Amr and my roommates. We went to his friend's penthouse over tahrir square (where AUC is), and then went to a hookah bar where everyone was watching a soccer match. The cafe was pretty full, so the owner moved our seats out onto the sidewalk--I'm not sure whether he wanted us on display, whether he thought we wouldn't like the noise, or whether the guys didn't want girls inside--it was quite the sausage fest... Three more of Amr's friends showed up, all named Ahmed.

Here we are at the penthouse! From left to right: Amr, Erin, Lesley (my roomie), and moi.

$$

One hundred pounds (~$20):



One Pound (~20 cents):

More exactly, 5.7 Egyptian Pounds = 1 Dollar

Not the easiest calculation, but a meal costs ~5 pounds ($1), the metro costs 1 pound (20 cents), and a fifteen minute taxi ride 5 pounds ($1). The cheap taxis are everywhere, and if you're non-egyptian looking they honk and slow down when they pass, hoping for a fare. Most Egyptians I've met don't walk anywhere. I guess their thinking is why walk when the taxis are ridiculously cheap, and everywhere? (I will write later about the driving. No traffic lights--the few that exist are "optional," lanes don't apply, and there's no such thing as a moving violation.) The biggest frustration for me is that most shop owners won't give change. Breaking my hundred pound notes has been difficult (one hundred pounds roughly equals a twenty). Most purchases need simply a few pounds and a couple piasters (cents). There is a five piaster note that equals one cent. Keeping track of all my little notes is annoying :)

khan el khalili and falucca on the nile

after orientation, I went with Erin and Selena to the old market khan el khalili. Hot and crowded, the market winds through narrow streets, and is organized by section: there is one for belly dancing costumes, one for metal smithing, one for meat, etc.

Tonight we went on a felucca ride. Feluccas are little sailboats on the nile that seat perhaps twenty people. While the Cairo skyline isn't quite beautiful, it is vibrant, active, and alive. The city is so "in your face" that you live and breath it every day. Today I met an expat who has lived here all her life, and she told me she is from everywhere but here, but this is her home.

inshah allah

This morning we had two hours of academic orientation. While the administrators are all incredibly warm and welcoming, things are incredibly disorganized. "inshah allah" is the motto--basically "god willing." it's really very useful. for example, if my professor asks me if I will give him my paper in one week, I have the perfect positive, non-commital response: "inshah allah." It removes my agency from the situation. My paper will get done if god wills it. And if it doesn't get done? It wasn't meant to be.

But this gets extremely frustrating when we want answers regarding housing, and course registration, and shuttle buses. Because when Tomader tells me "of course you will have housing my Monday, inshah allah" I cannot be sure whether she means it, or whether she's just trying to shut me up...

I miss my booty shorts and tank tops

In the states, when I saw veiled women I was offended by how oppressed these women were. They may be oppressed, but for other reasons than I assumed. In Cairo, the women tend to wear head scarves, but most don't do the full monty (black sheet covering the face as well), however most men are just as covered. Many men wear a tunic that reaches their ankles and has long sleeves. If men don't wear this, they wear slacks and a button up shirt or t-shirt--never shorts, and rarely sleeveless shirts.

Because you can't show skin, many girls wear spandex under cute dresses and blouses. Also, many girls plaster their faces in make-up.

off to a good start

I spent two painstaking days arranging exactly what I would need for the next ten months into two suitcases, EACH no more than 20kg. I arrived a tad late to the airport, and stepped up to the check-in counter. The woman with the much too tight bun kindly informed me that I could check no more than 20 kg TOTAL. I dragged my bags to the side and tore through them. Panties flying, books tossed aside, shampoo in the trash, I emerged six minutes later having cut my luggage exactly in half. This all could have been avoided if there had been an English website. Or if I could speak better French.

The pyramids are in the lower right-hand corner!

The outskirts of the city: