Friday

Went on a little exploration trip today. Started off with a short taxi ride to the citadel where I attended one of the Sultun some-thing-a-rather mosque for Juma’a (Friday) Prayer. The Mosque was amazing – a labrynth of tunnels with rooms that once accommodated scholars and students of knowledge in time past leads to the main prayer area. In the centre of the open-roofed stone courtyard is a functioning wudu (the washing of the body that muslims perform before prayer) fountain. The walls are covered with brilliant calligraphy carved into the stone of the ancient walls that have seen some of the greatest thinkers of Islam sitting against them. Around the courtyard are four large alcoves – now the areas for prayer, they once provided space for scholars from each of the four Sunni schools of legal thought to teach their respective science – in fact the name of each school is inscribed in their alcove. No segregation barrier in sight – just like in the time of the Prophet (saaws) women prayed behind the men in their own alcove. Testament to the dirt and pollution of Cairo, the classic red and white block pattern of Andalus was barely discernable from the rest of the stone wall. I sat to the back, leaned against the cool stone and watched the clouds move across the sky behind the minaret that stands solidly against what is visible of the blue sky through the thick smog.

After prayer we went down to the downtown area and got lunch at a great Lebanese restaurant – Tabouli – near the American Embassy. We took the food and wandered down to the Nile to hire a boat. After some haggling with the operator we were off on the Nile eating our lunch. I was amazed at the disgusting colour of the water – it looked like a watery brown soup, with more trash than I’ve ever seen in a body of water floating in it. The sun was warm and the wind was low – if it wasn’t for the operator blasting his horrible Egyptian pop songs it would have been beautiful.

After lunch we headed off to the Metro (Egypt’s underground rail) and caught a train to Nasser (only one stop, but too far to walk). We rode in the car for women only – don’t ever be fooled into thinking that women have better manners or are less agreeive than men. There is no waiting for people to get out of the carriage when the train pulls in, rather all the women on the platform push each other around in order to force their way through the carriage doors as soon as they open. There is no concept of “if we get on on the right side of the door and you alight from the left there will be no need for us to try to trample each other in order to get on”... Safely on the train (which was not even full, seats were taken but plenty of standing room) we arrived at our stop quickly. Out of the station we were hunting for the hostel that my friend will be staying at from tomorrow with her aunt. Found it checked it out – staff were lovely and it looked clean and neat (Let Me Inn). From there we wandered to a coffee joint where they told us we had to spend a minimum of 20EGP each (one coffee was 7EGP) we got up and found a famous fruit and vegitable market hidden in one of the side streets. I picked up my fruit and veg for a week for the equivalent of A$1.60! AWESOME!!!

Jumped back on the metro and went to Pottery Cafe (most awesomest cafe I’ve been to – rivalling Pattersons Patissarie)! Had a delicious coffee, jumped in a cab and finally got home just as the adhan (call to prayer) was being sounded for Maghreb (sunset prayer) Al-hamdoulillah.

But when I walk through my front door I find that as I was sitting in the taxi returning from my day out, five children aged between 7 and 12 years of age, along with their mother were being obliterated – their father “moderately wounded” – only a short distance away. How do you continue to live when your family is wiped out in the blink of an eye? Would you not be crazed with anger? Lost in grief? How would you rise every morning knowing that everything you loved was gone? I’d say the “G” word but someone would call me “anti-semetic”.
Doesn’t really make one want to discuss the mundane details of life as a student/visitor.

All praise is to you Allah, Lord of the Worlds. And salutations and greetings upon our master Muhammad and upon his family and companions. Ya Allah, grant the innocents of Palestine respite from the oppression under which they suffer and provide for them protection from the brutality of their oppressor. Ya Allah, for those who are wounded grant them wellbeing, for those who have passed on grant them the peace that they could not attain upon this Earth, for those that continue guide them and keep them steadfast. Ya Allah for those who oppress the weak either guide them or humiliate them and give them the recompense of which they deserve. Ya Allah, protect humanity form the baseness of our natures and raise amongst us the just as leaders who will direct towards good for the wellbeing of all.

With Sadness...Much Love and Ma’a Salama

Mogama'

Went to sort out visas on Thursday. Advised to expect total rudeness, a maddening run-a-round, incompetence and a long wait, we armed ourselves with patience and cabbed it to downtown. Entering the building we automatically leave any Arabic we know at the door, we find the floor we need (there are over 20) and make our way though a labriynth of hallways, lines of shabab, and smokiness and finally to “Window 12”. After being ignored for 10 minutes while the employee chats casually with a couple of workers, the employee turns and enquires: Nationality. Not sure if its a question or statement I hold up my passport. She snatches it out of my hand. Demands photos – I say I have them – demands photocopies of my passport – I hold them up. She shoves a form at me and tells me to go. I fill it in and return to the window. I wait a little for her to bother to grace me with her attention. She holds out her hand for my form. Re-opens my passport. Muslim? I reply in the affirmative and she looks at me like I’m a big fat liar. Fathers name. Mothers name. More glaring. She calls over her friend and passes my forms to her. I move over a window. The new lady is NICE! “Window 42” she says – 11EGP. I pay – make sure you have exact change, if you don’t you won’t get anything back no matter how much you hand over for your stamps. Back to “Window 12”. Nice lady has disappeared. Mean lady grunts in my direction. Stamps. I hand them over. Get another – 10 Piasters. Back to the payment window, I pay 1EGP for a 10 Paiester stamp (100 Piasters in 1EGP). Back to “Window 12”. More grunting. Come back at 2PM... ITS 9AM IN THE MORNING!!! How long can it take for you to stick them into my passport. And they CLOSE at 2PM, obviously she thinks I’m a moron, “Window 38” to pick up she grunts. When I try to confirm she glares and ignores me.
We wander off to a coffee shop nearby and sit and drink coffee and study.

After two hours we return to the mogama’. We walk the labyrinth again and arrive at “Window 38”. Nationality. Again its not a question. She pulls my passport from the bottom of the pile and shoves it at my face. I smile. Thank her. Get the hell out.

Sounds nasty, but that is an excellent experience. It can take hours, serious rudeness and abuse. That is what you call extracting an Egyptian visa with ease! Al-hamdoulillah I am happy I won’t need to do it again. I miss the manners that exist in the west – they are sorely lacking all over the middle east unfortunately.

Much Love and Ma’a Salama

Two weeks gone...

So two weeks gone and finally settling in properly...

It seems I’ve developed a nasty form of insomnia... I get tired, I go to bed, I lie for hours (seriously last night I went to bed at 9.30pm and didn’t sleep till after 3am), and I never fall asleep... I spoke to a couple of the girls here and they said its normal. Apparently the pollution/air quality is so bad it messes with your sleep, the girls said it takes about 6 weeks to get used to it. Which is half my time here – so by the time I get to sleeping properly I’ll be going home... I started exercising (walking regularly ( in an attempt to get my body super tired for sleep), but as yet it hasn’t worked. I just come home coughing and sneezing blackness – super gross!

Yesterday I took my first microbus. It looks like this:

And normally there is about 20 or more people crammed into what is a space only meant for 14 including the driver and his mates! Al-hamdoulillah the one we managed to hop on was only half full so we got seats. Tonight however was a completely different story. We decided we would go to Ma’adi (an area close to the Nile – about 20km from home) for dinner, and to get there we would take a micro to the station and get the train. All up such a trip would cost each of us 3 ganayh (less than A$1) rather than the taxi that is 25 ganayh (if you bargain well enough to get the basic “foreigner” fare for the trip). Anyway the micros were all so full that we didn’t even want to contemplate wedging ourselves into the sea of bodies that flowed out the door of the bus even while in motion. In fact one guy almost died in front of our eyes as he rode the micro hanging out of the door – his hand slipped and he was hanging on by the other trying not to let his legs hit the road. Somehow he managed to balance and someone stuck their hand through the window from the inside to hold him so he didn’t fall again. Scary. Anyway, after seeing multiple full micros we decided we’d rather grab a taxi and pay the extra. So we arrived in Ma’adi but the taxi driver dropped us off at the wrong place so we had to walk some to find my flatties sister. Finally we got to where we were meant to be. We purchased out Britta Bottle (those water purifier things), had dinner, had ice cream (baskin robins) and headed home – to tired to be bothered with bargaining, we paid far to much but got home in one piece (surprisingly considering the way the driver was negotiating the road). Really the purpose of the trip was the purifier, but we decided dinner was a necessity and I spotted the ice cream joint out the window of the restaurant... Good food.

So I have class in the morning. Its going well. I do 3.5 hours a day four days a week, but am increasing it to 5hours a day (possibly 5 days a week) from this week or next week insha’Allah. All my classes here are one-on-one and conducted entirely in Arabic since my teachers know next-to-no English...but of a change. I’ve realised how little I can communicate and comprehend. My teacher laughs when I give her a detailed grammatical analysis of a sentence (about the only thing I can do coherently in Arabic) but can’t tell her what it means... I really need to work on my vocabulary – but that’s nothing I didn’t know already..

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Still not used to being without internet at home – but I am replacing the time I would spend on it with tv. Not good. TV here is different to home... very different. Here you see everything, when people die the news doesn’t show you the sanitised shot of a bunch of people covered by white sheets, instead you see the bloodied, burnt, twisted and mutilated bodies. Nothing is sanitised. From the half severed heads hanging to bodies by a sliver of skin shown close-up to the little children with arms/legs missing, blood gushing and snapped bones visible. It’s sickening. Often I can’t watch the news, it’s just too painful. If the rest of the world saw what you see here on the news, there’s no way people would allow what is going on to continue. In the “West” we treat our pets better. Subhan’Allah it is really insanity.

Other than the news and the insomnia I’m loving Egypt – such a difference from Jordan, subhan’Allah.

Hope you are all well.

Much love and Ma’a salama