They say you shouldn't go grocery shopping on an empty stomach. Has anybody yet coined the phrase, you shouldn't blog with tears in your eyes? Even if so, the extrovert I am, I shall type.
Just over 2.5 years ago I wrote my first blog entry. I was excited by the doors opening and adventures starting in Africa. Two years ago, almost to the day, I started my life in Cairo, Egypt. Now, is the night before I leave this continent(- at least for now.)
Of course, its almost mid-night and the taxi arrives at 7am. My bags are not yet packed and I still have to finish a report...but my phone keeps ringing and my heart keeps tugging...
People have always asked me why I chose to do my Master's degree in Egypt. American's somehow respect my individuality and just give me a puzzled look and keep their mouths shut. Egyptians usally laugh at me. Africans (the non-Egyptian ones) smile. I came to Egypt to do my MA because I wanted to work more with Africans, in particular I wanted to learn the East African flavors.
Now, two years later my facebook is full of memories and my phone keeps ringing with my East African family saying their version of "see you laters." I successfully accomplished what I came here to do and now I am leaving yet another family.
This is the most eclectic family however comprised of people from Sudan, Ethiopia, Eritrea, Somalia, Ivory Coast, Congo, Iraq (tho not African!) and me, from Amreeka (America in Arabic.) We have learned so much together through hard work, tears, challenges, a revolution, racism, discrimination, poverty... you name it, this group has overcome it. I could write a book on how much they inspire me...but now is not the time. I must yet again pack.
Life is what you make of it. Family- biological or no- are those with whom you share and love life. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, to my Cairen family. Ma'salema.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Friday, February 18, 2011
Moments of disbelief and celebration.
The night that Mubarak stepped down we were all jumping, singing, and just smiling in disbelief. As we were celebrating numerous times we were knocked off of our feet by people literally sweeping underneath us! People were already cleaning up! Word quickly spread for all hands on deck at 9am to start cleaning and repairing the Square.
The next morning I had work meetings and thus couldn’t be in the Square early but as soon as we were complete a group of co-workers walked to Tahrir. On the way a co-worker explained that she was in front of the National TV station the day prior and watched an incredible protest. The building was lined with tanks and military decorated the windows. Rolls of barb-wire fence divided the tanks and the people. She said at one point while the protestors were chanting, they knocked down the barbwire fence. They had a clear shot to the building (as long as they could get past the tanks). But instead of storming, the front line bent over, picked up the metal fence posts and re-instated the fence before resuming chanting! They didn’t want violence- they wanted rights! They knew that if they stormed it would be bloody and then the government would have his excuse to kill. The wouldn’t give that to him.
Through all their passion and demands- in the face of a major oppressor, the National T.V.- they remained rationale and peaceful. Amazing. Inspiring.
That afternoon walking through the Square emotions mixed between lack of breath in awe and an overflowing heart that translated to overflowing eyes.
A big truck towed a burnt police truck—the people cheered.
People- rich, poor, man, woman, young, old, with disabilities- came with broom and bucket to clean all of downtown. Where streets were normally cluttered with garbage and sprinkled with cigarette butts barely even dust remained.
A crane lifted a cement barrier from the middle of the road. The cement block was so representative of many life barriers and the struggles that hopefully, were removed the day prior.
People repainted the stripes on curbs, the arrows in the road and then human chains surrounded their work so as not to damage the fresh paint.
The Head of Defense drove through the middle of the Square and waved. It seemed he just came to appreciate the people’s efforts and to show himself. This is new to Egyptians.
Tent city folded up and blankets were donated.
Dirty city walls got a fresh coat of white paint and prideful, hopeful new murals emerged.
Cafes opened their doors and created ad hoc street cafés.
Civilians started directing traffic—and driver respected them! (normally there are traffic police but police were off the streets, and they’re not usually respected anyway.
People placed flower arrangements on tanks and took pictures with military personnel.
Egyptian music blarred.
People smiled from their hearts.
Fear had been replaced with pride and hope.
Whoever could have imagined that after people successfully decapitate a dictatorial regime, they clean and rebuild?!?! A popular sign that day was, “Yesterday I was a protestor, today I rebuild Egypt.”
As I said in one of my first posts, people were tired of garbage. Well, not only did they take care of the garbage but they restored downtown to better than its ever been before. One of my favorite signs from that day, “Dear World, Sorry for the disturbance. We rebuild Egypt. Love, Egyptians.” Cairo, is truly a beautiful city!
The next morning I had work meetings and thus couldn’t be in the Square early but as soon as we were complete a group of co-workers walked to Tahrir. On the way a co-worker explained that she was in front of the National TV station the day prior and watched an incredible protest. The building was lined with tanks and military decorated the windows. Rolls of barb-wire fence divided the tanks and the people. She said at one point while the protestors were chanting, they knocked down the barbwire fence. They had a clear shot to the building (as long as they could get past the tanks). But instead of storming, the front line bent over, picked up the metal fence posts and re-instated the fence before resuming chanting! They didn’t want violence- they wanted rights! They knew that if they stormed it would be bloody and then the government would have his excuse to kill. The wouldn’t give that to him.
Through all their passion and demands- in the face of a major oppressor, the National T.V.- they remained rationale and peaceful. Amazing. Inspiring.
That afternoon walking through the Square emotions mixed between lack of breath in awe and an overflowing heart that translated to overflowing eyes.
A big truck towed a burnt police truck—the people cheered.
People- rich, poor, man, woman, young, old, with disabilities- came with broom and bucket to clean all of downtown. Where streets were normally cluttered with garbage and sprinkled with cigarette butts barely even dust remained.
A crane lifted a cement barrier from the middle of the road. The cement block was so representative of many life barriers and the struggles that hopefully, were removed the day prior.
People repainted the stripes on curbs, the arrows in the road and then human chains surrounded their work so as not to damage the fresh paint.
The Head of Defense drove through the middle of the Square and waved. It seemed he just came to appreciate the people’s efforts and to show himself. This is new to Egyptians.
Tent city folded up and blankets were donated.
Dirty city walls got a fresh coat of white paint and prideful, hopeful new murals emerged.
Cafes opened their doors and created ad hoc street cafés.
Civilians started directing traffic—and driver respected them! (normally there are traffic police but police were off the streets, and they’re not usually respected anyway.
People placed flower arrangements on tanks and took pictures with military personnel.
Egyptian music blarred.
People smiled from their hearts.
Fear had been replaced with pride and hope.
Whoever could have imagined that after people successfully decapitate a dictatorial regime, they clean and rebuild?!?! A popular sign that day was, “Yesterday I was a protestor, today I rebuild Egypt.”
As I said in one of my first posts, people were tired of garbage. Well, not only did they take care of the garbage but they restored downtown to better than its ever been before. One of my favorite signs from that day, “Dear World, Sorry for the disturbance. We rebuild Egypt. Love, Egyptians.” Cairo, is truly a beautiful city!
Day of Deliverance!
If only we would have known—but really, NO one could have imagined this!
11 February, 2011
After prayer (12:30p.m.) we spent most of the day inside, not knowing what was going to happen, but expecting the worse. More people were protesting than ever before. They were in front of the National TV station, the Presidential Palace, Parliament and other major squares downtown. The T.V. stayed on most of the day but nothing really happened.
By early evening word had spread that Mubarak was in Sharm el Sheik, a resort town in the Sinai. Half believed it. Questions began to circulate, why would he leave Cairo? Should we expect another Tiananmen tonight? Did he just not care anymore? Was Suliman in power? A few hours later Suliman was to appear.
I sat next to my friend’s sister in the small sitting room, his parents were sleeping. CNN streamed in Suliman from National T.V. I don’t even remember the first words/sentence but within less than 30 seconds the CNN interpreter monotonous voice quickly gave way to incredibility, “He stepped down. Hee Stepped down. MUBARAK STEPPED DOOWN!” Not even the reporter could hide his disbelief (and I would like to think, his excitement!) I grabbed her arm and squealed with delight! I guess it was more than delight as I woke up his parents. I ran to change to street clothes again and call my protest buddy to come and get me— time to party!
Tahrir was incredible! Really, beyond description. Flags, music, people jumping, people hugging…actually, it was kind of like a mosh-pit too. If it wasn’t for the fact that I was surrounded by four guys I easily could have been trampled but it was a PARTY!
In 2002, when I was living in Brazil and Brazil won the World Cup it really felt like the country exploded with excitement. Nationalism was personified and I thought I would never feel such an incredible feeling again. Well, for a normally apathetic population to unite and mobilize to topple a three decade long, oppressive regime totally surpassed that feeling from Brazil! For the first time in a long time, people exercised their rights to Freedom of Speech, Freedom of Expression, Freedom of Assembly and true democracy—and they did it all PEACEFULLY… it brings tears to my eyes.
My words cannot do justice to feelings of empowerment, pride, relief, belief in power of people that night…there are plenty of videos on Facebook, Youtube and other internet pages that attempt it…
It was a truly incredible feeling…one I’ll never forget and hopefully never again take for granted.
11 February, 2011
After prayer (12:30p.m.) we spent most of the day inside, not knowing what was going to happen, but expecting the worse. More people were protesting than ever before. They were in front of the National TV station, the Presidential Palace, Parliament and other major squares downtown. The T.V. stayed on most of the day but nothing really happened.
By early evening word had spread that Mubarak was in Sharm el Sheik, a resort town in the Sinai. Half believed it. Questions began to circulate, why would he leave Cairo? Should we expect another Tiananmen tonight? Did he just not care anymore? Was Suliman in power? A few hours later Suliman was to appear.
I sat next to my friend’s sister in the small sitting room, his parents were sleeping. CNN streamed in Suliman from National T.V. I don’t even remember the first words/sentence but within less than 30 seconds the CNN interpreter monotonous voice quickly gave way to incredibility, “He stepped down. Hee Stepped down. MUBARAK STEPPED DOOWN!” Not even the reporter could hide his disbelief (and I would like to think, his excitement!) I grabbed her arm and squealed with delight! I guess it was more than delight as I woke up his parents. I ran to change to street clothes again and call my protest buddy to come and get me— time to party!
Tahrir was incredible! Really, beyond description. Flags, music, people jumping, people hugging…actually, it was kind of like a mosh-pit too. If it wasn’t for the fact that I was surrounded by four guys I easily could have been trampled but it was a PARTY!
In 2002, when I was living in Brazil and Brazil won the World Cup it really felt like the country exploded with excitement. Nationalism was personified and I thought I would never feel such an incredible feeling again. Well, for a normally apathetic population to unite and mobilize to topple a three decade long, oppressive regime totally surpassed that feeling from Brazil! For the first time in a long time, people exercised their rights to Freedom of Speech, Freedom of Expression, Freedom of Assembly and true democracy—and they did it all PEACEFULLY… it brings tears to my eyes.
My words cannot do justice to feelings of empowerment, pride, relief, belief in power of people that night…there are plenty of videos on Facebook, Youtube and other internet pages that attempt it…
It was a truly incredible feeling…one I’ll never forget and hopefully never again take for granted.
the night of significant disappointment or perhaps too high of expectations
Written at 2:30 am after returning from an extremely disappointing night- the night Mubarak did NOT step down.
The past few mornings I have visited Tahrir Sq, mostly to deliver food and basic supplies to medical and volunteer staff. It’s a truly amazing mini-city that they have built. A barber shop, medical clinics w/ free services/supplies, tent city w/ a day care tent, free cell phone charge center, stages w/ speakers and entertainment, media centers that display all the daily newspapers, etc. It’s one of the first times in the 1.5 years that I've been here that I haven't been harassed on the streets but instead actually interacted with Egyptian citizens from all walks of life.
Tonight around 7:15 pm I was returning to my house w/ my friend. Curfew was to start in 45 min and he got a call that Mubarak was in Dubai! We quickly turned on the radio, called our key contacts and consumed the rumor that Mubarak was to speak and perhaps even step down. I ran inside and changed my clothes (good running shoes and a scarf in case of tear gas) and dropped everything but my passport and camera. Within 3 min, two more friends had joined and we headed to Tahrir to participate in what we expected to be a historical night.
The energy was intense. As we passed through each security check pt (one must show id and get searched by civilians four times in order to enter the square) they asked us basic questions and rushed us through with an excited welcome. Flags were waving. Music from the 1973 victory over Israel played over loud speakers. Small groups of drummers danced and chanted.
A large "screen" suspended to a building projected Mubarak's speech a few hours later. The insufficiently large speakers turned up way too loud distorted the sound beyond comprehension (not that I can understand that much Arabic anyway!) The entire square w/ 1000s, perhaps millions of people, went silent. Egyptians are rarely silent and it was a tense and eery feeling. (The kind of feeling that makes you feel you have to pee, when you really don’t have to.) Cell phones and radios delivered the speech though his voice still projected over the square.
At certain points, small groups would start to chant in frustration. They were quickly squelched. And as he finalized his speech, curse words were quickly covered by angry chants. Silence errupted.
I was with five well connected guys who quickly got calls telling us to get out. A mob like feeling consumed the Square. As we quickly fled the square, I passed a women who just sat on the curb screaming. Her screaming frustrations quickly became mixed with body-shaking sobs. I cannot imagine her frustrations- her disappointment. We passed growing chants-- march to the Palace tonite! "Leave" mubarak. etc. Eventually we ran to beat the protesting crowds to the bottleneck exits and to get to the bridge before they over took our way home. We made it safely.
I haven't been personally involved since the beginning however anybody could have felt the 180 in emotions tonight. As we made our journey through the desert backroads one friend's lips were sealed with anger, another one basically said, "f*** it, he'll kill us all before he leaves." I sat and tried to analyze, of course we shouldn't believe he would leave so easily. Only 17 days to topple a military dictator after 30 years? We were foolish to believe it. The scariest thing to think about isthat Mubarak really has nothing to lose but his pride-- and that will not be taken easily. He's worth approximately $70Bil USD, cannot relate to Egyptian people and has basically done anything he (and the US) wanted for the past 30yrs...it's starting to look ugly. Who knows what will happen tomorrow. Most likely it will involve a lot of blood...
The past few mornings I have visited Tahrir Sq, mostly to deliver food and basic supplies to medical and volunteer staff. It’s a truly amazing mini-city that they have built. A barber shop, medical clinics w/ free services/supplies, tent city w/ a day care tent, free cell phone charge center, stages w/ speakers and entertainment, media centers that display all the daily newspapers, etc. It’s one of the first times in the 1.5 years that I've been here that I haven't been harassed on the streets but instead actually interacted with Egyptian citizens from all walks of life.
Tonight around 7:15 pm I was returning to my house w/ my friend. Curfew was to start in 45 min and he got a call that Mubarak was in Dubai! We quickly turned on the radio, called our key contacts and consumed the rumor that Mubarak was to speak and perhaps even step down. I ran inside and changed my clothes (good running shoes and a scarf in case of tear gas) and dropped everything but my passport and camera. Within 3 min, two more friends had joined and we headed to Tahrir to participate in what we expected to be a historical night.
The energy was intense. As we passed through each security check pt (one must show id and get searched by civilians four times in order to enter the square) they asked us basic questions and rushed us through with an excited welcome. Flags were waving. Music from the 1973 victory over Israel played over loud speakers. Small groups of drummers danced and chanted.
A large "screen" suspended to a building projected Mubarak's speech a few hours later. The insufficiently large speakers turned up way too loud distorted the sound beyond comprehension (not that I can understand that much Arabic anyway!) The entire square w/ 1000s, perhaps millions of people, went silent. Egyptians are rarely silent and it was a tense and eery feeling. (The kind of feeling that makes you feel you have to pee, when you really don’t have to.) Cell phones and radios delivered the speech though his voice still projected over the square.
At certain points, small groups would start to chant in frustration. They were quickly squelched. And as he finalized his speech, curse words were quickly covered by angry chants. Silence errupted.
I was with five well connected guys who quickly got calls telling us to get out. A mob like feeling consumed the Square. As we quickly fled the square, I passed a women who just sat on the curb screaming. Her screaming frustrations quickly became mixed with body-shaking sobs. I cannot imagine her frustrations- her disappointment. We passed growing chants-- march to the Palace tonite! "Leave" mubarak. etc. Eventually we ran to beat the protesting crowds to the bottleneck exits and to get to the bridge before they over took our way home. We made it safely.
I haven't been personally involved since the beginning however anybody could have felt the 180 in emotions tonight. As we made our journey through the desert backroads one friend's lips were sealed with anger, another one basically said, "f*** it, he'll kill us all before he leaves." I sat and tried to analyze, of course we shouldn't believe he would leave so easily. Only 17 days to topple a military dictator after 30 years? We were foolish to believe it. The scariest thing to think about isthat Mubarak really has nothing to lose but his pride-- and that will not be taken easily. He's worth approximately $70Bil USD, cannot relate to Egyptian people and has basically done anything he (and the US) wanted for the past 30yrs...it's starting to look ugly. Who knows what will happen tomorrow. Most likely it will involve a lot of blood...
Monday, February 14, 2011
Thank you for your patience. The mood in the country has signifcantly shifted and thus the on-slaught of posts.
more to come about the night of significant disappointment, the day of deliverance and rebuilding efforts...but for now, the police are protesting down my block and I have to go watch!
yesterday they, those who previously teargased protesters, were being tear gassed by the military. lets see what happends today! ohhhhhh, the irony!
more to come about the night of significant disappointment, the day of deliverance and rebuilding efforts...but for now, the police are protesting down my block and I have to go watch!
yesterday they, those who previously teargased protesters, were being tear gassed by the military. lets see what happends today! ohhhhhh, the irony!
Side-line struggles with blue eyes
One of the biggest struggles has actually been “cabin-fever” and lack of freedom of movement. I am a very independent person (to say the least) and I have learnt that much of my inner contentedness (if that is a word) hinges on my freedom of movement. When my movement is restricted by curfews, protective hosts, and the “need” to have an Egyptian male companion I can become quite edgy.
The first few days, before moving to my friend’s house, I moved around cautiously but easy enough. Often times I could easily make my blue eyes bigger with that “I love you, Daddy” look and I could get into places without even showing my I.D.
As the days passed and protestors were not backing down the State started accusing foreigners of instigating the protests. At first we were all accused of being Israeli spies. (The “previous” !! Egyptian government planted a lot of fear tactics to instill a hatred of Israelis by Egyptians). Its rather ridiculous if you really think about it- this was a peaceful demonstration by Egyptians against the government, why would they care about Israelis at this time??!
Then all journalists were under attack.
There were numerous incidences of foreigners being very randomly picked up on the street by police and military and being detained at State security/intelligence. My current roommate was also arrested and detained over night—very fortunately no torture tactics were used just intimidation. Nonetheless, the mood significantly changed towards foreigners for a few days which basically resulted in house arrest.
One of the funniest times was when the government said that foreigners were being given 100USD and being supported by KFC (yes, Kentucky Fried Chicken) do perpetuate the protests. (Yes, this was after it was discovered that Mubarak paid the camel and horse drivers 100LE to raid the protests.)The protestors simply came to the square with KFC bags held high! Eat that Mubarak!
I dyed my hair black before returning to Cairo; little did I know it would help me blend in so much better! Thus when I put on my big sunglasses, a current trend in Egypt and didn’t say anything, I could move around in the day but only with an Egyptian and usually male companion. I started to carry my passport everywhere. Once curfew came, usually 4pm, I was in the house. Even though the neighborhood was quite and safe and I was always with Egyptian men, it wasn’t worth the risk- for me or them.
I think I’ve watched more T.V. during those two weeks than in the past 10yrs of my life!
Eventually, the State realized that people weren’t buying the “blame it on the foreigners” tactic and many were actually offended. Apparently, the government did not believe that Egyptians could organize and execute these protests. Then when Suliman said that Egypt was not ready for democracy, that was the last straw and protestors and Egyptians really started looking out for foreigners.
The first few days, before moving to my friend’s house, I moved around cautiously but easy enough. Often times I could easily make my blue eyes bigger with that “I love you, Daddy” look and I could get into places without even showing my I.D.
As the days passed and protestors were not backing down the State started accusing foreigners of instigating the protests. At first we were all accused of being Israeli spies. (The “previous” !! Egyptian government planted a lot of fear tactics to instill a hatred of Israelis by Egyptians). Its rather ridiculous if you really think about it- this was a peaceful demonstration by Egyptians against the government, why would they care about Israelis at this time??!
Then all journalists were under attack.
There were numerous incidences of foreigners being very randomly picked up on the street by police and military and being detained at State security/intelligence. My current roommate was also arrested and detained over night—very fortunately no torture tactics were used just intimidation. Nonetheless, the mood significantly changed towards foreigners for a few days which basically resulted in house arrest.
One of the funniest times was when the government said that foreigners were being given 100USD and being supported by KFC (yes, Kentucky Fried Chicken) do perpetuate the protests. (Yes, this was after it was discovered that Mubarak paid the camel and horse drivers 100LE to raid the protests.)The protestors simply came to the square with KFC bags held high! Eat that Mubarak!
I dyed my hair black before returning to Cairo; little did I know it would help me blend in so much better! Thus when I put on my big sunglasses, a current trend in Egypt and didn’t say anything, I could move around in the day but only with an Egyptian and usually male companion. I started to carry my passport everywhere. Once curfew came, usually 4pm, I was in the house. Even though the neighborhood was quite and safe and I was always with Egyptian men, it wasn’t worth the risk- for me or them.
I think I’ve watched more T.V. during those two weeks than in the past 10yrs of my life!
Eventually, the State realized that people weren’t buying the “blame it on the foreigners” tactic and many were actually offended. Apparently, the government did not believe that Egyptians could organize and execute these protests. Then when Suliman said that Egypt was not ready for democracy, that was the last straw and protestors and Egyptians really started looking out for foreigners.
Many questions…
It seems like its been two weeks of “tonight’s events will be telling…let’s wait and see” or “lets wait another 24 hours and make a decision” or “I’ll call you in the morning if we can actually meet today…” Unstable or flexible, depends on your attitude.
To evacuate or not to evacuate, that was the first major question. The majority of my classmates evacuated. Of the 340 study abroad AUC students, 320 evacuated. UNHCR evacuated. Many foreign staff of non-governmental organizations evacuated. Many other countries evacuated their citizens (even for free and all the way back to the homeland—unlike the US!).
The first weekend, I had to entertain the question. Emotions changed by the hour but kept returning to waiting it out. Most of the phone calls circled around discussions of who was leaving and who would wait it out and where. I am in a unique situation in that I am in a safe neighborhood, with an Egyptian family and a number of close, male, Egyptian friends. Similarly, I am no longer here just for school but in fact have made a regular life. My work, my friends, my school, my home is currently in Egypt. Fleeing just felt wrong. Also, it definitely crossed my mind that all my refugee friends and many of my Egyptian friends cannot leave- if they can do it, so can I. It may sound a bit irrational but it was a real feeling. Another major factor is that my career path is focusing more towards disaster relief and humanitarian aid—this is the perfect training! If I can’t handle this then I need to reconsider my career goals. And of course, the patience and understanding of my Mom played a significant role in our decision. I do not wish to put my family under unmanageable distress and from our first phone call she expressed her understanding and respect of why I am here and my goals. I never desired to leave, she supported my decision making process and fortunately I’ve played my cards right and now I’m here until the end!
To evacuate or not to evacuate, that was the first major question. The majority of my classmates evacuated. Of the 340 study abroad AUC students, 320 evacuated. UNHCR evacuated. Many foreign staff of non-governmental organizations evacuated. Many other countries evacuated their citizens (even for free and all the way back to the homeland—unlike the US!).
The first weekend, I had to entertain the question. Emotions changed by the hour but kept returning to waiting it out. Most of the phone calls circled around discussions of who was leaving and who would wait it out and where. I am in a unique situation in that I am in a safe neighborhood, with an Egyptian family and a number of close, male, Egyptian friends. Similarly, I am no longer here just for school but in fact have made a regular life. My work, my friends, my school, my home is currently in Egypt. Fleeing just felt wrong. Also, it definitely crossed my mind that all my refugee friends and many of my Egyptian friends cannot leave- if they can do it, so can I. It may sound a bit irrational but it was a real feeling. Another major factor is that my career path is focusing more towards disaster relief and humanitarian aid—this is the perfect training! If I can’t handle this then I need to reconsider my career goals. And of course, the patience and understanding of my Mom played a significant role in our decision. I do not wish to put my family under unmanageable distress and from our first phone call she expressed her understanding and respect of why I am here and my goals. I never desired to leave, she supported my decision making process and fortunately I’ve played my cards right and now I’m here until the end!
Religion in Revolution
Religion is a big part of this world, this country and anybody who reads/cares about this part of the world thus its an unavoidable, bloggable topic!
When the protests first turned violent I’m sure many of you saw images of people praying in the street. According to Rosa the incident was like a movie. Protestors were throwing rocks and chasing the police. The police would throw back. Then the call to prayer came and the protesters just stopped and got down on their knees to pray. Like a staged choreography they all got in lines and just prayed. Meanwhile, the police just stood with rocks in hands, arms cocked to throw but who can throw at people praying? It reminds me of the scene in documentary on Mohamet Ghandi when he asked his “followers” to walk up to the police who automatically started brutally beating them. They desired peace and the police responded with beatings.
You can also find amazing pictures of human chains of Christians surrounding groups of Muslim’s praying- protecting them while they pray for protection. After the Jan.1 bombings in the church in Alexandria many Muslims went to church with Christians on the Coptic Christmas (Jan. 6). 2011 has brought great religious peace to the country.
While we’re not sure when or how this will end, it has been successful in uniting these two major faiths. Like my experiences in Senegal, there is nothing more touching than the call to prayer intermixed with church bells. Religion is powerful and when used with positive, open-minded and non-competing practice it can be absolutely beautiful.
When the protests first turned violent I’m sure many of you saw images of people praying in the street. According to Rosa the incident was like a movie. Protestors were throwing rocks and chasing the police. The police would throw back. Then the call to prayer came and the protesters just stopped and got down on their knees to pray. Like a staged choreography they all got in lines and just prayed. Meanwhile, the police just stood with rocks in hands, arms cocked to throw but who can throw at people praying? It reminds me of the scene in documentary on Mohamet Ghandi when he asked his “followers” to walk up to the police who automatically started brutally beating them. They desired peace and the police responded with beatings.
You can also find amazing pictures of human chains of Christians surrounding groups of Muslim’s praying- protecting them while they pray for protection. After the Jan.1 bombings in the church in Alexandria many Muslims went to church with Christians on the Coptic Christmas (Jan. 6). 2011 has brought great religious peace to the country.
While we’re not sure when or how this will end, it has been successful in uniting these two major faiths. Like my experiences in Senegal, there is nothing more touching than the call to prayer intermixed with church bells. Religion is powerful and when used with positive, open-minded and non-competing practice it can be absolutely beautiful.
Protecting Egypt…
A man to whom I tutor English is a big corporate executive. I also called to check in on him as he lived in Maadi and per the news, his neighborhood was under attack of looters. The first time I called his wife answered in a state close to panic. We have never met nor talked before and she anxiously stated: “they (the looters) are here and he (her husband) is down there. They are attacking cars. We have to move.” I tried to help her assess the situation and come up with plans. She calmed enough and we hung up. Again, I just sat and could not imagine. Eventually, I got a hold of him. His sporty, aggressive side kicked in early when he heard the looters approaching. He told me, “Ellen, they were against everything that we stand for and everything that we desire in life for Egypt and our children. They came to destroy our hopes and homes. We caught them and you can’t imagine…” I cut him off there knowing his physique and passion and I said, I don’t really want to imagine but I am glad you and your family are safe. He then laughed and explained that his managerial nature kicked in as he organized phone trees and security shifts and street alarm systems for the whole neighborhood. He is proud to be an Egyptian.
Stories like this abound. I can’t imagine what would happen if Chicago neighborhoods joined together to protect themselves. Of course the situations are different but the solidarity and pride is quite overwhelming.
Stories like this abound. I can’t imagine what would happen if Chicago neighborhoods joined together to protect themselves. Of course the situations are different but the solidarity and pride is quite overwhelming.
The first few days....
25 Jan. First day of protest— though no one really knew what to expect. My internship explicitly prohibits participation in political events and demonstrations thus I only have accounts from friends.
My friend Emily and her Egyptian friend went out to the main square on Gamat el Dawal St. in Mohandeseen (a big neighborhood in Cairo). They arrived at 2pm, the supposed start time, to an empty plaza. Within five minutes, still alone in the square, her Egyptian friend started to curse the apathetic nature of Egyptians. And just as the curses started crowds flooded from three subsidiary streets. Hundreds from each direction, chanting, and waving their banners. She said it was just like in the movies!
Two of my Egyptians friends went to Tahrir that night and found amazing displays of solidarity and nationalism. People were beginning to set up camp, others walked around handing out sandwiches and blankets. For the first time that anybody could remember people from all socio-economic classes and men and women sat and chatted. My Egyptian friends said they actually felt a sense of eing Egyptian that night and were proud to be so. My foreign friend and I dually noted the change in sentiment and solidarity.
One of my first undergrad classes focused on the idea of nationalism. What creates a sense of nationalism? Similar language, religion, ethnicity or simply a common government and boundaries. Many Egyptians are proud of the history of their “mother-land” and contributions to society and of course nationalism is high during national soccer (football) matches, but other than that, this abstract concept is rather difficult to define. This Tuesday was a start to a whole new definition here in Egypt.
One of my classmates you could easily call a “protest-junkie.” She lives for this kind of stuff so, of course, she was in the front lines all day. We phoned throughout the day just to make sure we’re still alive and she shared some amazing stories. She emerged from the metro just as police started throwing tear gas. She said it stung like hell but she didn’t pass out! (there’s always a positive!)
As people started throwing rocks, the surrounding Egyptian men picked her up and threw her over the barricade to protect her. In Cairo usually the only time a man touches a women on the street is for his own pleasure. Not only had she been smashed against them with no groping but they had protected her. Quite a change of events in and of itself. She recounted that one of the most amazing moments however was during the rock fight during the call to prayer. (All mosques have loud speakers from which a man sings/chants five times a day throughout the entire city). She said the prayer started and all protestors immediately stopped throwing rocks to form prayer lines on the street. As they were praying, the police stood w/ arms cocked and loaded. Rather caught of guard, of course they couldn’t throw a rock at people praying!
She has some amazing pics and stories of a life time.
That Tuesday, not knowing what to expect and prohibited from participating, I had left my apt in the early morning and spent the day in Nasr City, a quiet neighborhood on the developing edge of Cairo. Seeing how things were still unpredictable I watched BBC all night w/ my British friend in her out-of-the-way apartment. Wed. morning I taxied home through eerily normal streets. I heard through news and friends that police descended and tear gassed the peaceful protesters around 1am.
Wed. 26
The city felt on edge all day. The unprecedented events and moments of nationalism had been physically cleared by the police earlier that morning, yet the mental images were still raw. That day I went for coffee with a new friend and did some errands. Everybody walked the streets with a bit of hesitation. It was just an awkward day.
Thurs. 27
Thursday morning was about the same. I took a long walk to Zamalek, an island in the middle of Cairo, and had lunch w/ a friend. That night a group of us even went out for a drink. Again it felt like a day in waiting with most discussions focused on hypothesizing scenarios for Egypt to come. Word was that Friday, after prayer, was going to be powerful and most likely violent.
Friday 28
My apartment is two blocks from Tahrir and on direct route to the Ministry of the Interior. I didn’t want to get stuck and nobody knew what to expect. So, contrary to cultural traditions, my friend Amr arranged that I stay with his family. I got up early Friday morning to make the family some cookies, took a shower then taxied to Nasr City. Not completely ready to just arrive at his house especially knowing that there were all to pray, I told him that I’d call him from Starbucks.
I arrived at Starbucks, bought a latte and settled in to read. I waited, intentionally about 45 minutes, then called. There was no network. Facebook, twitter and other electronic social networks were intermittent since Tuesday and now down as internet had been out all morning. To cut off all mobile communication was rather shocking.
It was 11am, things were supposed to erupt slightly after 12. People with scarves wrapped around their necks, big glasses on their head whispered in excitement of protests. Amr was sleeping- he usually sleeps through the mid-afternoon on Fridays. I had no network, no address and couldn’t return home. I sat, breathed and waited in hesitant confidence that Amr would come and get me.
Luckily, within 15 min, he came and my slowly growing anxiety subsided.
While it started peaceful, things did erupt on Friday. Friends walked from Nasr City and Heliopolis to downtown (about a 1.5hr walk).
We watched T.V. news from Aena wa Gedu’s (Grandma and Grandpa’s) house all evening. It was only in Arabic so I had rather sparse comprehension of all the events. Still no phones or internet. We saw images of political buildings on fire. The military was called in and they were rather received as friends of the people and foes of the police. Rumors started that the police began to release prisoners from the prisons to wreak more havoc on the protesters and the city itself.
No internet, no cell phones. Luckily, I had a new “family” and was safe. I had no ideas about my classmates and co-workers…
Saturday morning I woke around 10 with cell phone reception. Ahumdililah! Calls in and out came quickly as I took inventory of my friends. Maggie had decided to stay in her apartment just above the Ministry of Interior, she was all but stuck in her apartment and passed a night filled with sounds and images of war. Rosa had been shot three times with pellets, and tear gassed but overall was ok. Most were making plans to evacuate.
Amr and I went to Spinneys (like Target- kind of) to stock up on supplies and food for the family. It was a mad house. As we started our shopping at 1pm they announced that they were closing for security reasons. We stood in the check out line for over an hour. People looked tense and tired- already. Mini- fights broke out in lines as people pushed to pay and get back home. The way home was tense. All shops were closed. Some barred. The heavy pollution only added to the anxious scene. People were practically standing in the middle of the road looking for a taxi or micro-bus to take them home. There was no calm before the storm.
We arrived home around 3:30 to find that a curfew from 4pm to 8 am. Again, a new experience.
Getting intense…
Saturday night was probably the most intense. I tired as much as possible to stay in contact with Maggie and Rosa. I’ve never been so grateful for phone reception. Rosa saw four people shot and killed right in front of her. Then she came home and the building across from ours was in flames. The next morning it was flooded as a water main had broken.
That night I called Rosa at least every hour. She was alone in the apt, building around were on fire and the street below was a literal war zone and she couldn’t make outgoing calls.
I talked to Maggie also about every hour. At one point our conversation was interrupted by a knock on her door. It was a police man only half in uniform, he came to beg for civilian clothes and few pounds to escape the area. For her security she refused to open the door but as she looked out the window she saw police men taking off their uniforms on the street and fleeing.
For part of the night, Amr and I just sat on the couch, not knowing what else to do. CNN and BBC only reported that Tahrir Sq was finally peaceful and the crowds were plentiful. They paid NO attention to the raging war that was happening just two blocks away! Rocks, bullets, tanks, military, police, civilians. Shops being looted and who knew if/when our building would catch fire too.
Maggie called and said that shooting from the inside the Ministry had stopped and angry protestors were pushing forward. Just then Amr got a call from a university friend who was a Captain in the police force and inside the Ministry. He called to say that they were almost completely out of ammunition and that protestors were advancing. Maggie watched them advance. Amr’s friend said good-bye…
We both hung up and just sat. There are two sides to every battle. I can’t say that I’ve had the best experience with police in Egypt. At the same time I understand that for many in was a form of employment. They were young men trying to help feed their families…
My friend Emily and her Egyptian friend went out to the main square on Gamat el Dawal St. in Mohandeseen (a big neighborhood in Cairo). They arrived at 2pm, the supposed start time, to an empty plaza. Within five minutes, still alone in the square, her Egyptian friend started to curse the apathetic nature of Egyptians. And just as the curses started crowds flooded from three subsidiary streets. Hundreds from each direction, chanting, and waving their banners. She said it was just like in the movies!
Two of my Egyptians friends went to Tahrir that night and found amazing displays of solidarity and nationalism. People were beginning to set up camp, others walked around handing out sandwiches and blankets. For the first time that anybody could remember people from all socio-economic classes and men and women sat and chatted. My Egyptian friends said they actually felt a sense of eing Egyptian that night and were proud to be so. My foreign friend and I dually noted the change in sentiment and solidarity.
One of my first undergrad classes focused on the idea of nationalism. What creates a sense of nationalism? Similar language, religion, ethnicity or simply a common government and boundaries. Many Egyptians are proud of the history of their “mother-land” and contributions to society and of course nationalism is high during national soccer (football) matches, but other than that, this abstract concept is rather difficult to define. This Tuesday was a start to a whole new definition here in Egypt.
One of my classmates you could easily call a “protest-junkie.” She lives for this kind of stuff so, of course, she was in the front lines all day. We phoned throughout the day just to make sure we’re still alive and she shared some amazing stories. She emerged from the metro just as police started throwing tear gas. She said it stung like hell but she didn’t pass out! (there’s always a positive!)
As people started throwing rocks, the surrounding Egyptian men picked her up and threw her over the barricade to protect her. In Cairo usually the only time a man touches a women on the street is for his own pleasure. Not only had she been smashed against them with no groping but they had protected her. Quite a change of events in and of itself. She recounted that one of the most amazing moments however was during the rock fight during the call to prayer. (All mosques have loud speakers from which a man sings/chants five times a day throughout the entire city). She said the prayer started and all protestors immediately stopped throwing rocks to form prayer lines on the street. As they were praying, the police stood w/ arms cocked and loaded. Rather caught of guard, of course they couldn’t throw a rock at people praying!
She has some amazing pics and stories of a life time.
That Tuesday, not knowing what to expect and prohibited from participating, I had left my apt in the early morning and spent the day in Nasr City, a quiet neighborhood on the developing edge of Cairo. Seeing how things were still unpredictable I watched BBC all night w/ my British friend in her out-of-the-way apartment. Wed. morning I taxied home through eerily normal streets. I heard through news and friends that police descended and tear gassed the peaceful protesters around 1am.
Wed. 26
The city felt on edge all day. The unprecedented events and moments of nationalism had been physically cleared by the police earlier that morning, yet the mental images were still raw. That day I went for coffee with a new friend and did some errands. Everybody walked the streets with a bit of hesitation. It was just an awkward day.
Thurs. 27
Thursday morning was about the same. I took a long walk to Zamalek, an island in the middle of Cairo, and had lunch w/ a friend. That night a group of us even went out for a drink. Again it felt like a day in waiting with most discussions focused on hypothesizing scenarios for Egypt to come. Word was that Friday, after prayer, was going to be powerful and most likely violent.
Friday 28
My apartment is two blocks from Tahrir and on direct route to the Ministry of the Interior. I didn’t want to get stuck and nobody knew what to expect. So, contrary to cultural traditions, my friend Amr arranged that I stay with his family. I got up early Friday morning to make the family some cookies, took a shower then taxied to Nasr City. Not completely ready to just arrive at his house especially knowing that there were all to pray, I told him that I’d call him from Starbucks.
I arrived at Starbucks, bought a latte and settled in to read. I waited, intentionally about 45 minutes, then called. There was no network. Facebook, twitter and other electronic social networks were intermittent since Tuesday and now down as internet had been out all morning. To cut off all mobile communication was rather shocking.
It was 11am, things were supposed to erupt slightly after 12. People with scarves wrapped around their necks, big glasses on their head whispered in excitement of protests. Amr was sleeping- he usually sleeps through the mid-afternoon on Fridays. I had no network, no address and couldn’t return home. I sat, breathed and waited in hesitant confidence that Amr would come and get me.
Luckily, within 15 min, he came and my slowly growing anxiety subsided.
While it started peaceful, things did erupt on Friday. Friends walked from Nasr City and Heliopolis to downtown (about a 1.5hr walk).
We watched T.V. news from Aena wa Gedu’s (Grandma and Grandpa’s) house all evening. It was only in Arabic so I had rather sparse comprehension of all the events. Still no phones or internet. We saw images of political buildings on fire. The military was called in and they were rather received as friends of the people and foes of the police. Rumors started that the police began to release prisoners from the prisons to wreak more havoc on the protesters and the city itself.
No internet, no cell phones. Luckily, I had a new “family” and was safe. I had no ideas about my classmates and co-workers…
Saturday morning I woke around 10 with cell phone reception. Ahumdililah! Calls in and out came quickly as I took inventory of my friends. Maggie had decided to stay in her apartment just above the Ministry of Interior, she was all but stuck in her apartment and passed a night filled with sounds and images of war. Rosa had been shot three times with pellets, and tear gassed but overall was ok. Most were making plans to evacuate.
Amr and I went to Spinneys (like Target- kind of) to stock up on supplies and food for the family. It was a mad house. As we started our shopping at 1pm they announced that they were closing for security reasons. We stood in the check out line for over an hour. People looked tense and tired- already. Mini- fights broke out in lines as people pushed to pay and get back home. The way home was tense. All shops were closed. Some barred. The heavy pollution only added to the anxious scene. People were practically standing in the middle of the road looking for a taxi or micro-bus to take them home. There was no calm before the storm.
We arrived home around 3:30 to find that a curfew from 4pm to 8 am. Again, a new experience.
Getting intense…
Saturday night was probably the most intense. I tired as much as possible to stay in contact with Maggie and Rosa. I’ve never been so grateful for phone reception. Rosa saw four people shot and killed right in front of her. Then she came home and the building across from ours was in flames. The next morning it was flooded as a water main had broken.
That night I called Rosa at least every hour. She was alone in the apt, building around were on fire and the street below was a literal war zone and she couldn’t make outgoing calls.
I talked to Maggie also about every hour. At one point our conversation was interrupted by a knock on her door. It was a police man only half in uniform, he came to beg for civilian clothes and few pounds to escape the area. For her security she refused to open the door but as she looked out the window she saw police men taking off their uniforms on the street and fleeing.
For part of the night, Amr and I just sat on the couch, not knowing what else to do. CNN and BBC only reported that Tahrir Sq was finally peaceful and the crowds were plentiful. They paid NO attention to the raging war that was happening just two blocks away! Rocks, bullets, tanks, military, police, civilians. Shops being looted and who knew if/when our building would catch fire too.
Maggie called and said that shooting from the inside the Ministry had stopped and angry protestors were pushing forward. Just then Amr got a call from a university friend who was a Captain in the police force and inside the Ministry. He called to say that they were almost completely out of ammunition and that protestors were advancing. Maggie watched them advance. Amr’s friend said good-bye…
We both hung up and just sat. There are two sides to every battle. I can’t say that I’ve had the best experience with police in Egypt. At the same time I understand that for many in was a form of employment. They were young men trying to help feed their families…
The first few days....
25 Jan. First day of protest— though no one really knew what to expect. My internship explicitly prohibits participation in political events and demonstrations thus I only have accounts from friends.
My friend Emily her Egyptian friend went out to the main square on Gamat el Dawal St. in Mohandeseen (a big neighborhood in Cairo). They arrived at 2pm, the supposed start time, to an empty plaza. Within five minutes, still alone in the square, her Egyptian friend started to curse the apathetic nature of Egyptians. And just as the curses started crowds flooded from three subsidiary streets. Hundreds from each direction, chanting, and waving their banners. She said it was just like in the movies!
Two of my Egyptians friends went to Tahrir that night and found amazing displays of solidarity and nationalism. People were beginning to set up camp, others walked around handing out sandwiches and blankets. For the first time that anybody could remember people from all socio-economic classes and men and women sat and chatted. My Egyptian friends said they actually felt a sense of eing Egyptian that night and were proud to be so. My foreign friend and I dually noted the change in sentiment and solidarity.
One of my first undergrad classes focused on the idea of nationalism. What creates a sense of nationalism? Similar language, religion, ethnicity or simply a common government and boundaries. Many Egyptians are proud of the history of their “mother-land” and contributions to society and of course nationalism is high during national soccer (football) matches, but other than that, this abstract concept is rather difficult to define. This Tuesday was a start to a whole new definition here in Egypt.
One of my classmates you could easily call a “protest-junkie.” She lives for this kind of stuff so, of course, she was in the front lines all day. We phoned throughout the day just to make sure we’re still alive and she shared some amazing stories. She emerged from the metro just as police started throwing tear gas. She said it stung like hell but she didn’t pass out! (there’s always a positive!)
As people started throwing rocks, the surrounding Egyptian men picked her up and threw her over the barricade to protect her. In Cairo usually the only time a man touches a women on the street is for his own pleasure. Not only had she been smashed against them with no groping but they had protected her. Quite a change of events in and of itself. She recounted that one of the most amazing moments however was during the rock fight during the call to prayer. (All mosques have loud speakers from which a man sings/chants five times a day throughout the entire city). She said the prayer started and all protestors immediately stopped throwing rocks to form prayer lines on the street. As they were praying, the police stood w/ arms cocked and loaded. Rather caught of guard, of course they couldn’t throw a rock at people praying!
She has some amazing pics and stories of a life time.
That Tuesday, not knowing what to expect and prohibited from participating, I had left my apt in the early morning and spent the day in Nasr City, a quiet neighborhood on the developing edge of Cairo. Seeing how things were still unpredictable I watched BBC all night w/ my British friend in her out-of-the-way apartment. Wed. morning I taxied home through eerily normal streets. I heard through news and friends that police descended and tear gassed the peaceful protesters around 1am.
Wed. 26
The city felt on edge all day. The unprecedented events and moments of nationalism had been physically cleared by the police earlier that morning, yet the mental images were still raw. That day I went for coffee with a new friend and did some errands. Everybody walked the streets with a bit of hesitation. It was just an awkward day.
Thurs. 27
Thursday morning was about the same. I took a long walk to Zamalek, an island in the middle of Cairo, and had lunch w/ a friend. That night a group of us even went out for a drink. Again it felt like a day in waiting with most discussions focused on hypothesizing scenarios for Egypt to come. Word was that Friday, after prayer, was going to be powerful and most likely violent.
Friday 28
My apartment is two blocks from Tahrir and on direct route to the Ministry of the Interior. I didn’t want to get stuck and nobody knew what to expect. So, contrary to cultural traditions, my friend Amr arranged that I stay with his family. I got up early Friday morning to make the family some cookies, took a shower then taxied to Nasr City. Not completely ready to just arrive at his house especially knowing that there were all to pray, I told him that I’d call him from Starbucks.
I arrived at Starbucks, bought a latte and settled in to read. I waited, intentionally about 45 minutes, then called. There was no network. Facebook, twitter and other electronic social networks were intermittent since Tuesday and now down as internet had been out all morning. To cut off all mobile communication was rather shocking.
It was 11am, things were supposed to erupt slightly after 12. People with scarves wrapped around their necks, big glasses on their head whispered in excitement of protests. Amr was sleeping- he usually sleeps through the mid-afternoon on Fridays. I had no network, no address and couldn’t return home. I sat, breathed and waited in hesitant confidence that Amr would come and get me.
Luckily, within 15 min, he came and my slowly growing anxiety subsided.
While it started peaceful, things did erupt on Friday. Friends walked from Nasr City and Heliopolis to downtown (about a 1.5hr walk).
We watched T.V. news from Aena wa Gedu’s (Grandma and Grandpa’s) house all evening. It was only in Arabic so I had rather sparse comprehension of all the events. Still no phones or internet. We saw images of political buildings on fire. The military was called in and they were rather received as friends of the people and foes of the police. Rumors started that the police began to release prisoners from the prisons to wreak more havoc on the protesters and the city itself.
No internet, no cell phones. Luckily, I had a new “family” and was safe. I had no ideas about my classmates and co-workers…
Saturday morning I woke around 10 with cell phone reception. Ahumdililah! Calls in and out came quickly as I took inventory of my friends. Maggie had decided to stay in her apartment just above the Ministry of Interior, she was all but stuck in her apartment and passed a night filled with sounds and images of war. Rosa had been shot three times with pellets, and tear gassed but overall was ok. Most were making plans to evacuate.
Amr and I went to Spinneys (like Target- kind of) to stock up on supplies and food for the family. It was a mad house. As we started our shopping at 1pm they announced that they were closing for security reasons. We stood in the check out line for over an hour. People looked tense and tired- already. Mini- fights broke out in lines as people pushed to pay and get back home. The way home was tense. All shops were closed. Some barred. The heavy pollution only added to the anxious scene. People were practically standing in the middle of the road looking for a taxi or micro-bus to take them home. There was no calm before the storm.
We arrived home around 3:30 to find that a curfew from 4pm to 8 am. Again, a new experience.
Getting intense…
Saturday night was probably the most intense. I tired as much as possible to stay in contact with Maggie and Rosa. I’ve never been so grateful for phone reception. Rosa saw four people shot and killed right in front of her. Then she came home and the building across from ours was in flames. The next morning it was flooded as a water main had broken.
That night I called Rosa at least every hour. She was alone in the apt, building around were on fire and the street below was a literal war zone and she couldn’t make outgoing calls.
I talked to Maggie also about every hour. At one point our conversation was interrupted by a knock on her door. It was a police man only half in uniform, he came to beg for civilian clothes and few pounds to escape the area. For her security she refused to open the door but as she looked out the window she saw police men taking off their uniforms on the street and fleeing.
For part of the night, Amr and I just sat on the couch, not knowing what else to do. CNN and BBC only reported that Tahrir Sq was finally peaceful and the crowds were plentiful. They paid NO attention to the raging war that was happening just two blocks away! Rocks, bullets, tanks, military, police, civilians. Shops being looted and who knew if/when our building would catch fire too.
Maggie called and said that shooting from the inside the Ministry had stopped and angry protestors were pushing forward. Just then Amr got a call from a university friend who was a Captain in the police force and inside the Ministry. He called to say that they were almost completely out of ammunition and that protestors were advancing. Maggie watched them advance. Amr’s friend said good-bye…
We both hung up and just sat. There are two sides to every battle. I can’t say that I’ve had the best experience with police in Egypt. At the same time I understand that for many in was a form of employment. They were young men trying to help feed their families…
My friend Emily her Egyptian friend went out to the main square on Gamat el Dawal St. in Mohandeseen (a big neighborhood in Cairo). They arrived at 2pm, the supposed start time, to an empty plaza. Within five minutes, still alone in the square, her Egyptian friend started to curse the apathetic nature of Egyptians. And just as the curses started crowds flooded from three subsidiary streets. Hundreds from each direction, chanting, and waving their banners. She said it was just like in the movies!
Two of my Egyptians friends went to Tahrir that night and found amazing displays of solidarity and nationalism. People were beginning to set up camp, others walked around handing out sandwiches and blankets. For the first time that anybody could remember people from all socio-economic classes and men and women sat and chatted. My Egyptian friends said they actually felt a sense of eing Egyptian that night and were proud to be so. My foreign friend and I dually noted the change in sentiment and solidarity.
One of my first undergrad classes focused on the idea of nationalism. What creates a sense of nationalism? Similar language, religion, ethnicity or simply a common government and boundaries. Many Egyptians are proud of the history of their “mother-land” and contributions to society and of course nationalism is high during national soccer (football) matches, but other than that, this abstract concept is rather difficult to define. This Tuesday was a start to a whole new definition here in Egypt.
One of my classmates you could easily call a “protest-junkie.” She lives for this kind of stuff so, of course, she was in the front lines all day. We phoned throughout the day just to make sure we’re still alive and she shared some amazing stories. She emerged from the metro just as police started throwing tear gas. She said it stung like hell but she didn’t pass out! (there’s always a positive!)
As people started throwing rocks, the surrounding Egyptian men picked her up and threw her over the barricade to protect her. In Cairo usually the only time a man touches a women on the street is for his own pleasure. Not only had she been smashed against them with no groping but they had protected her. Quite a change of events in and of itself. She recounted that one of the most amazing moments however was during the rock fight during the call to prayer. (All mosques have loud speakers from which a man sings/chants five times a day throughout the entire city). She said the prayer started and all protestors immediately stopped throwing rocks to form prayer lines on the street. As they were praying, the police stood w/ arms cocked and loaded. Rather caught of guard, of course they couldn’t throw a rock at people praying!
She has some amazing pics and stories of a life time.
That Tuesday, not knowing what to expect and prohibited from participating, I had left my apt in the early morning and spent the day in Nasr City, a quiet neighborhood on the developing edge of Cairo. Seeing how things were still unpredictable I watched BBC all night w/ my British friend in her out-of-the-way apartment. Wed. morning I taxied home through eerily normal streets. I heard through news and friends that police descended and tear gassed the peaceful protesters around 1am.
Wed. 26
The city felt on edge all day. The unprecedented events and moments of nationalism had been physically cleared by the police earlier that morning, yet the mental images were still raw. That day I went for coffee with a new friend and did some errands. Everybody walked the streets with a bit of hesitation. It was just an awkward day.
Thurs. 27
Thursday morning was about the same. I took a long walk to Zamalek, an island in the middle of Cairo, and had lunch w/ a friend. That night a group of us even went out for a drink. Again it felt like a day in waiting with most discussions focused on hypothesizing scenarios for Egypt to come. Word was that Friday, after prayer, was going to be powerful and most likely violent.
Friday 28
My apartment is two blocks from Tahrir and on direct route to the Ministry of the Interior. I didn’t want to get stuck and nobody knew what to expect. So, contrary to cultural traditions, my friend Amr arranged that I stay with his family. I got up early Friday morning to make the family some cookies, took a shower then taxied to Nasr City. Not completely ready to just arrive at his house especially knowing that there were all to pray, I told him that I’d call him from Starbucks.
I arrived at Starbucks, bought a latte and settled in to read. I waited, intentionally about 45 minutes, then called. There was no network. Facebook, twitter and other electronic social networks were intermittent since Tuesday and now down as internet had been out all morning. To cut off all mobile communication was rather shocking.
It was 11am, things were supposed to erupt slightly after 12. People with scarves wrapped around their necks, big glasses on their head whispered in excitement of protests. Amr was sleeping- he usually sleeps through the mid-afternoon on Fridays. I had no network, no address and couldn’t return home. I sat, breathed and waited in hesitant confidence that Amr would come and get me.
Luckily, within 15 min, he came and my slowly growing anxiety subsided.
While it started peaceful, things did erupt on Friday. Friends walked from Nasr City and Heliopolis to downtown (about a 1.5hr walk).
We watched T.V. news from Aena wa Gedu’s (Grandma and Grandpa’s) house all evening. It was only in Arabic so I had rather sparse comprehension of all the events. Still no phones or internet. We saw images of political buildings on fire. The military was called in and they were rather received as friends of the people and foes of the police. Rumors started that the police began to release prisoners from the prisons to wreak more havoc on the protesters and the city itself.
No internet, no cell phones. Luckily, I had a new “family” and was safe. I had no ideas about my classmates and co-workers…
Saturday morning I woke around 10 with cell phone reception. Ahumdililah! Calls in and out came quickly as I took inventory of my friends. Maggie had decided to stay in her apartment just above the Ministry of Interior, she was all but stuck in her apartment and passed a night filled with sounds and images of war. Rosa had been shot three times with pellets, and tear gassed but overall was ok. Most were making plans to evacuate.
Amr and I went to Spinneys (like Target- kind of) to stock up on supplies and food for the family. It was a mad house. As we started our shopping at 1pm they announced that they were closing for security reasons. We stood in the check out line for over an hour. People looked tense and tired- already. Mini- fights broke out in lines as people pushed to pay and get back home. The way home was tense. All shops were closed. Some barred. The heavy pollution only added to the anxious scene. People were practically standing in the middle of the road looking for a taxi or micro-bus to take them home. There was no calm before the storm.
We arrived home around 3:30 to find that a curfew from 4pm to 8 am. Again, a new experience.
Getting intense…
Saturday night was probably the most intense. I tired as much as possible to stay in contact with Maggie and Rosa. I’ve never been so grateful for phone reception. Rosa saw four people shot and killed right in front of her. Then she came home and the building across from ours was in flames. The next morning it was flooded as a water main had broken.
That night I called Rosa at least every hour. She was alone in the apt, building around were on fire and the street below was a literal war zone and she couldn’t make outgoing calls.
I talked to Maggie also about every hour. At one point our conversation was interrupted by a knock on her door. It was a police man only half in uniform, he came to beg for civilian clothes and few pounds to escape the area. For her security she refused to open the door but as she looked out the window she saw police men taking off their uniforms on the street and fleeing.
For part of the night, Amr and I just sat on the couch, not knowing what else to do. CNN and BBC only reported that Tahrir Sq was finally peaceful and the crowds were plentiful. They paid NO attention to the raging war that was happening just two blocks away! Rocks, bullets, tanks, military, police, civilians. Shops being looted and who knew if/when our building would catch fire too.
Maggie called and said that shooting from the inside the Ministry had stopped and angry protestors were pushing forward. Just then Amr got a call from a university friend who was a Captain in the police force and inside the Ministry. He called to say that they were almost completely out of ammunition and that protestors were advancing. Maggie watched them advance. Amr’s friend said good-bye…
We both hung up and just sat. There are two sides to every battle. I can’t say that I’ve had the best experience with police in Egypt. At the same time I understand that for many in was a form of employment. They were young men trying to help feed their families…
Friday, February 4, 2011
Egypt
I’ve tried for three days now to start an entry – I don’t really know how or where to start. So much as happened, so much remains uncertain. Sounds cliché.
Facts of the situation:
Egypt is in great turmoil.
I am safe and have been safe from the beginning.
My apartment is two blocks from Tahrir Sq (the main place of action) and has been on CNN numerous times. It is also the direct route the Ministry of the Interior, a target the first few days. Knowing this and the unpredictability of life in Egypt, I left my house last Friday morning .
I am staying with my Egyptian friend and his family in a safe and relatively quiet neighborhood.
I am intending on staying it through. A lot goes into this decision but I promise that I will be more responsible than stubborn.
Your prayers and support for all involved are a appreciated more than I can express!
If you haven’t been following the unprecedented and amazing coverage of the situation, you can find a wealth of info at CNN, BBC and please check out Al-Jazeera English. Especially in the past few days I have never been more impressed and grateful to courage and persistence of reporters. They are true heroes!
My roommate Rosa has been in the thick of things from day one. She has been shot multiple times (w/ pellet guns), tear gassed more than a couple of times, stuck in our apt one night as she watched the building across the street go into flames, and just last night she was detained and interrogated by Egyptian Security forces for 6+ hours. I think that finally scared her into retreat, but I’ve said it before so we’ll see how long she’ll stay put! While many of you may think this is absolutely crazy- you’re right, it’s not the life for everybody- at the same time she’s capturing some amazing things and is helping in anyway possible. Please keep her and all other risking their lives to bring a positive change. As soon as she blogs, I’ll pass along the site for more front-line news.
I will admit that I have not seen any direct action. My job contractually prohibits me from participating in any political events- for the safety of the refugees. Thus for the sake of my job and the security of my refugee friends, despite my desires, I did not participate in the first few days of protest. Then as things have turned uglier, in the past few days, it is evident that this in not my fight and I would be much more of a burden than a help w/ my blue eyes and lack of Arabic. My status as a female-foreigner, my current location away from downtown, and the eye’s of my friend’s family have made me all but dependent on the moves of my male-Egyptian friends to do anything or go anywhere. (Needless to say I’ve mastered the tight-jawed smile that really says “I don’t agree at all but urgh, I have to.”)
In one way, I struggle with embarrassment and shame about my retreat as I desire to work in conflict areas and disaster relief. At the same time, I must humble myself to realize that while I fully believe in human rights, this is not my fight. And as previously stated, I could quickly become much more of a burden than a help. I have resolved myself to do what I can in terms of moral support to refugee communities in my proximity for the time being.
Refugees are also at extreme risk because of deeply entrenched racist attitudes and general security issues in Egypt; not to mention, many of them fled their countries because of similar unrest and they simply do not wish to live it again. So, many of them have been locked in their houses for the past 8 days. There are a number of single mothers who are particularly afraid, for obvious reasons. To compound problems, many people in Egypt get paid at the end of the month- this did not happen in January, so money is very scarce. Thus the beginning of this week my friend and I drove around near-by neighborhoods to drop off cash and make friendly home visits.
I'm still working out specifics of other aid projects...more to come...we'll be in touch! ;)
I intend on writing more as emotions and internet allow, so feel free to stay posted. This country is filled with amazing stories and demonstrations of hope, democracy and solidarity. The news reports of Egyptians picking up trash on the streets. In Egypt, as in many other developing countries, trash is a daily part of life and people rarely think twice about it. Well, apparently the people are sick of trash. Please keep spreading the word of this amazing movement and show of what people can do in solidarity.
Facts of the situation:
Egypt is in great turmoil.
I am safe and have been safe from the beginning.
My apartment is two blocks from Tahrir Sq (the main place of action) and has been on CNN numerous times. It is also the direct route the Ministry of the Interior, a target the first few days. Knowing this and the unpredictability of life in Egypt, I left my house last Friday morning .
I am staying with my Egyptian friend and his family in a safe and relatively quiet neighborhood.
I am intending on staying it through. A lot goes into this decision but I promise that I will be more responsible than stubborn.
Your prayers and support for all involved are a appreciated more than I can express!
If you haven’t been following the unprecedented and amazing coverage of the situation, you can find a wealth of info at CNN, BBC and please check out Al-Jazeera English. Especially in the past few days I have never been more impressed and grateful to courage and persistence of reporters. They are true heroes!
My roommate Rosa has been in the thick of things from day one. She has been shot multiple times (w/ pellet guns), tear gassed more than a couple of times, stuck in our apt one night as she watched the building across the street go into flames, and just last night she was detained and interrogated by Egyptian Security forces for 6+ hours. I think that finally scared her into retreat, but I’ve said it before so we’ll see how long she’ll stay put! While many of you may think this is absolutely crazy- you’re right, it’s not the life for everybody- at the same time she’s capturing some amazing things and is helping in anyway possible. Please keep her and all other risking their lives to bring a positive change. As soon as she blogs, I’ll pass along the site for more front-line news.
I will admit that I have not seen any direct action. My job contractually prohibits me from participating in any political events- for the safety of the refugees. Thus for the sake of my job and the security of my refugee friends, despite my desires, I did not participate in the first few days of protest. Then as things have turned uglier, in the past few days, it is evident that this in not my fight and I would be much more of a burden than a help w/ my blue eyes and lack of Arabic. My status as a female-foreigner, my current location away from downtown, and the eye’s of my friend’s family have made me all but dependent on the moves of my male-Egyptian friends to do anything or go anywhere. (Needless to say I’ve mastered the tight-jawed smile that really says “I don’t agree at all but urgh, I have to.”)
In one way, I struggle with embarrassment and shame about my retreat as I desire to work in conflict areas and disaster relief. At the same time, I must humble myself to realize that while I fully believe in human rights, this is not my fight. And as previously stated, I could quickly become much more of a burden than a help. I have resolved myself to do what I can in terms of moral support to refugee communities in my proximity for the time being.
Refugees are also at extreme risk because of deeply entrenched racist attitudes and general security issues in Egypt; not to mention, many of them fled their countries because of similar unrest and they simply do not wish to live it again. So, many of them have been locked in their houses for the past 8 days. There are a number of single mothers who are particularly afraid, for obvious reasons. To compound problems, many people in Egypt get paid at the end of the month- this did not happen in January, so money is very scarce. Thus the beginning of this week my friend and I drove around near-by neighborhoods to drop off cash and make friendly home visits.
I'm still working out specifics of other aid projects...more to come...we'll be in touch! ;)
I intend on writing more as emotions and internet allow, so feel free to stay posted. This country is filled with amazing stories and demonstrations of hope, democracy and solidarity. The news reports of Egyptians picking up trash on the streets. In Egypt, as in many other developing countries, trash is a daily part of life and people rarely think twice about it. Well, apparently the people are sick of trash. Please keep spreading the word of this amazing movement and show of what people can do in solidarity.
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