More observations

. أنا مبسوطة في مصر Ana mabsuta fi Masr. I am happy in Egypt. Let me describe a day. I drink Turkish coffee, sweet and spicy, in the morning out of a dirty styrofoam cup handed to me by an old man who supplies other old men with Turkish coffee and hookah all day here and who charges me 1LE or about 0.18USD for it. I eat a breakfast of soft, delicious flatbread with fig jam, from a window staffed by about 4 guys who I know didn't wash their hands before they started work this morning. I walk to class in the street between lanes of moving cars with the exhast and pollution swirling around me as I weave around groups of staring young men. I carry my coffee extra carefully because I'll need every drop to keep me awake today--I stayed out until 5am the night before with my roommate and some of our friends, talking and walking around the neighborhood and eating "second dinner" at 3 in the morning. I can smell the cigarette smoke my clothes and sometimes I can't get the second hand hookah smoke out of my nose for hours, and I love it here. I'm so excited about coming home in June, and I'm so excited about being here right now. I can legitimately say that I'm not stressed, which I can never say at Grinnell. Inconveniences that would bother me back home roll off my back. Am I productive academically? No! Am I busy squeezing everything I could possibly get out of my time here? No! I am leisurely sipping from the cup of my time here.

I sleep crazy hours, but that's okay here. I stayed up until 4 one morning studying, but I was down in the lobby and there were a bunch of other students there too the whole time. Some were studying, others were socializing, others were just playing around on their laptops. It wasn't a big deal to stay up that late; it's like all hours of the day and night are opened up to be inhabited. Some Egyptian kids here have told me that they stay up all night sometimes for no reason and think nothing of it. Sure, they're tired, but malesh (the catchall for "I'm sorry or too bad but don't worry about it because it's not a big deal, whatever"). They can catch up during the next morning or evening.

I'm not sure how long this attitude or lifestyle can last--there's a lot I want to read, for example, and I actually have time to do it here--but this past couple weeks have been very chill and good fun. It's how I would arrange the most perfect vacation--sometimes there's work to be done, but you're surrounded by students, American and otherwise, who are interested enough in the world to care about studying here, but who have time to hang out and do nothing and enjoy each other's company.

For the record I've been drinking small quantities of tap water as of week four, and I've been fine. I must have intestines of steel, because I've eaten pretty much everything I've laid eyes on here and I only feel sick when I over-indulge on Nutella.

There are times I'm hanging out with girls from Arab countries and the conversation will turn down a route that I feel I don't really need to be paying attention to, and it's only tonight that I realized there's something worth mentioning about these moments. I get bored when girls are talking about their crushes, or when my roommate talks with other RA's (yeah, Residence Advisors) about RA politics and whether so-and-so responded inappropriately to such-and-such RA crisis. I tend to allow myself to zone out when these conversations are happening because I tell myself, "This isn't Egyptian--this is just like back home." But, of course, that's stupid. Conversations about crushes or inner-organizational politics are normal--or at least among the upper/middle class girls that I hear having these conversations. There's nothing American about them, or if there is, there's certainly nothing anti-Egyptian because they're happening in Egypt between Egyptians. They're mundane sorts of conversations, and I may not be taking in huge amounts of cultural knowledge from being privy to them because they're personal conversations, not cultural. And that's life--just because it's not a culturally rich moment doesn't mean I should ignore it.

Chris asked about Egyptian men's staring, and there's not much to explain about that. White girls and even non-Egyptian girls of all stripes stand out--even the girls whose parents are Egyptian but who grew up in the States. Egypt gets a lot of tourists, but that doesn't make people any less curious about us. Little kids walk by and say, "Hello, what is your name?" in English and then run away, shy. Men stare, and for those who didn't know, American women have an international reputation not of independence or free-siritedness or high education, but as being loose women. I saw an Egyptian man come up to a blond friend of mine and strike up a conversation by asking if she was married and putting a hand on her thigh. And girls, say from Jordan or Lebanon, have a similar reputation, apparently with the added threat of, "You're Arab so you're one of our women so I have some authority over you." A Palestinian friend of mine says that she's at a disadvantage because Egyptian girls are taught to be tough and can handle these situations. I don't get as much attention as other female students here do, but it comes my way. It's arbitrary of how you dress too, and maybe even of how beautiful you are. One solution is to take control of the situation with a firm, "Asalaamu aleikum," which is a respectful, somewhat religious greeting, and sets a tone in which ogling isn't okay. I do this when I'm walking at night, for example with police officers, who are high on the list of offenders because they have nothing better to do.

There are police officers on every corner practically, particularly in Zamalek (my neighborhood) where there are a lot of foreigners. There are a lot of underemployed people here, like the two guys whose job it is to open the door for you a Cinnabon. And then there'll be five guys working behind the counter, with one cash register and one oven. Underemployment is better than unemployment, but there's plenty of that too.

My roommate is teaching me to order in--the Arab students here don't go out to eat like the American students tend to, even if they wind up spending the same amount of money. Everywhere here delivers. If you want something like groceries or office supplies, the answer is, "Go to Metromart or Alfamart," which are Western style grocery stores. Study-abroads buy food on the street, which Egyptian students think is weird of them. My classmates eat at McDonalds and dress like US-ers (the school uniform appears to be hipster-preppy with the occassional higab, or head scarf, thrown in and sometimes the headscarf will be Louis Vuitton or Gucci) but they aren't as much like us as they seem; this comes out in our different points of reference. They speak great English, but then some don't know what a trumpet is, and the region I know as "Israel" or "Israel and Palestine" is always "Palestine." A couple Americans have said if you want to experience the different side of a country, the most distinctive and seemingly "Egyptian" part of the culture, the least international and the most domestic and traditional, you go to the poor, and you see how they live. That's certainly not the kids we go to school with. Because study abroads like exploring and going out (again, not a money thing but a getting-to-know-Cairo thing, because "going out" is often to cheap places), they know the neighborhood better than full time students. I have postulated with a couple American girls here that this has some deep, social implications or is a sign of larger things. Primarily, it means that people with money here never see or interact with people without money here. Perhaps this means that those who have the capital to take a bite out of poverty aren't informed enough about it to take action. Or perhaps the poverty here is so enormous--in the difference between rich and poor and the number of people who are in need--that it is actually too vast and twisted to be impacted. But I feel like there's something weird at hand when most AUC students don't know the restaurants around campus that are even a single block off the street that connects classroom buildings. Even on said street, there's a place study abroad students go that we call "Magic Window" where you can get Egyptian felafel for 0.75 LE or about 14 American pennies. And my roommate has never been. This is a half block past the last classroom building on the main drag. But the people jostling in line with American students for refried beans and felafel (فول وطعمية) are the Egyptians who labor in the area. Even this small contact increases awareness, I think. Which I guess should make me rethink where I go in the US. Generally, I think that the poorest places are considered unsafe, and here if you go to the poorest places of the city, people will ask what you're doing there or what you're doing, so it's not right to go if you have no business there.

Observations and updates

I know it's been over a week since I've written, but the internet has been down and I've waited until it was less frustrating to try to get online. The problem isn't totally fixed now, but things are going faster.

I've had my first week of classes, and I've eaten more Egyptian food (kufta is amazing! And Tony, I’m looking for better shawarma, but so far it’s been eclipsed by the koshari, fiteer, and falafel sandwiches). I think I was one of several American students who didn't quite connect the dots that this would be like a regular school semester...so I didn't really bring a backpack or a cell phone. In Grinnell, I could get by without using my phone much. Here, in the big city, not so much. So I bought the cheapest phone possible, and I’ve been like a sketchy old man, going around to everyone who I’ve barely met and asking “nimrit telefoonik kam?” (نمرة تلفونك كام؟) I must describe my phone for you, because I love it. It has Arabic and English letters printed on the keys for texting, and it’s not a color phone but it has a color background, which I’m pretty sure is a color transparency in between the light source and the layer that the text appears on, and it looks like a tropical Caribbean isle with a sail boat in the foreground.

Every time something goes wrong here, I’ve been told, “Welcome to Egypt,” which is a phrase I’m getting sick of hearing for multiple reasons. One is that I’d just like to register for classes, please. Another reason is that it’s mostly ex-pats who say this, even students in my own program who’ve only been here as long as I have, and I’m not cool with the idea that people get jaded and decide that the defining characteristic of Egypt is that things don’t work here. I would much rather just be told to have patience. One exception to hearing “Welcome to Egypt” from old, white men is when people will shout it out on the street when they see obvious foreigners, when I'm assuming that's the one phrase they know in English. The other exception I've heard was the response I got when I asked two Egyptian students why trash cans on campus are usually found in pairs, one white and one green, and if the green one was for recycling. It was a mystery to them too.

School stuff
Campus is beautiful, like most of the things I encounter here, and classes have been good so far. There are a couple “campuses” separated by 1-2 blocks from each other. The “Greek” campus (no idea where the name comes from) houses the social sciences buildings and the library, as well as a big quad (bricked, grass isn’t big here) with lots of tables and chairs surrounded by the fortress of the academic buildings and completely divided from the street. This is the major hangout spot. People fill that space all day long, sometimes making it difficult for others to get through the throng of socializers to their social sciences classes. I like the library, although it is devoid of cushy chairs, and all three of us Grinnellians who are here this semester found each other in the library a couple days ago and made sure the others were doing well.

Me-stuff
The nearest Christian church is Catholic, so I’ve been there twice—once for a weekly service and once for Ash Wednesday. I really enjoyed it, and I already feel less ignorant about Catholicism. There’s a big contingent here from Notre Dame (one of whom is named John-Paul, who’s been here a semester already and shows us around sometimes) and so I go to church with them. They keep me straight and tell me when it’s okay to participate as a non-Catholic (e.g. receiving the ashes) and when it’s not (e.g. communion). And you thought my only new religious exposures would be to Islam!

I know I said that I wasn’t going to spend much time with Americans here, but I’ve met some Americans who are really great people and who I already hope to keep in contact with once I get back to the States. I guess you would say that it’s a “self-selecting pool” of study-abroad students because as the president of AUC told us at an orientation address, only 1% of American college students study abroad, and only 1% of those who do will go to the Middle East. And I think he said most of that 1% is at AUC. Additionally, I don’t want to spend time with a certain group of people because of an objectifying characteristic, like, “They’re Egyptian.” I’m getting to know study-abroads and full-time students alike, and I’m enjoying the company of people on both sides. My social strategy remains to force myself upon new people of all persuasions, and it has met with wild success. For example, I met an Egyptian girl in my Architecture class because she made the mistake of making eye contact with me and smiling, so down I sat next to her and by the end of class she was introducing me to her friends.

Arabic stuff
Last week I took a week-long intensive called “Survival Arabic,” which was really helpful. Things like how to order food or talk to cabbies. I’m really glad I took it, and I’m enrolled in an Egyptian Spoken Arabic class for this semester, which is going well too. I really enjoy the dumb language jokes that people learning the basics will make, and the pretend-sketchy conversations we have in class when all we learned on the first day was how to ask someone was if they were married and which floor they live on. You can get by a lot of the time in English. All the students here have to be fluent in English, and some of them know like three other languages in addition to English and Arabic, no exaggeration. Classes are all in English, and many vendors speak English. They like when you speak Arabic, though many don't understand the "universal" formal Arabic that is taught in American college classes. It took me about ten minutes to order flat bread with fig jelly on it the other day, because of the language barrier, but oh, was it worth it. The last day of Survival Arabic, my class of five walked through the streets with our teacher and talked to vendors in Arabic, just asking dumb stuff like, "How much is this?" and "What is the name of this?" Some of the vendors really got into it when they realized that we were learning Arabic, and they would quiz us on the names or colors of the things they were selling.

Egypt stuff
A couple Americans here have commented that the biggest culture shock is the McDonalds, and I think that the presence of stores and products that we can get in the US makes it seem deceptively Western here. Firstly, places that I think of as American or Western, I have heard described here as “international,” which belies a different orientation. Secondly, these restaurants and stores exist in a different context, and mean something culturally different here than they do back home. McDonalds is not a restaurant for rich people in the US, and their target audience may even be the lower economic classes. But in Egypt, if you buy American or “international” food, you pay international prices. I can get 2 falafel sandwiches on the street for 1.75-2LE (Egyptian Pounds), but I pay 20LE, 10 times more, for a McDonalds sandwich, which comes to about four American dollars. Now, given the price of the falafel, how much money do you think the falafel maker is making? He certainly doesn’t waste that money eating at McDonalds. I still feel confused by the mixture things here—there’s so much that I know I don’t understand.

I cover my hair sometimes, if I wake up feeling modest. I’ve heard that people here expect Americans to dress differently from themselves, and maybe not to be as nicely dressed as Egyptians would be at, say, a nice restaurant. Dressing up all the time is a strain for me, but Mom and I limited my wardrobe here to only decent looking clothes. When I cover my hair, I do it bandana-style; I never wrap my scarf under my chin or try to make it look like hijab (called hee-gab here, like “HE has the gift of GAB”) because I don’t want people to wonder if I’m Muslim. I’m not Muslim, and I’m not Egyptian, and that’s obvious because of my skin color and the style of clothes I wear and the way I carry myself. However, while I do my best to be respectful of culture and norms, I have no interest in assimilating. I’m an American in Egypt, and I don’t want to pretend to be otherwise. I’m interested in learning about everything here, and participating as much as possible, but I want people to know that I’m a foreigner, in every possible sense of the word.

Anyway, the variety in how people dress probably makes any style of scarf-tying that I employ ambiguously religious, even if my hair is sticking out. In a place like this where over 50% of women veil, variation is okay, and women will cover their hair in all sorts of different ways. Most of those covered will wrap hijab-style (under the chin, with one corner of the scarf hanging down the back), but even among that group, there are different ways of wrapping a hijab and different cloth and pin accessories that go along. Women in this country are pretty intense about their accessories, and a ton of women have this amazing, creative sense of color. A lot of the American girls feel like they’re dressing like schmucks, particularly on campus where most of our classmates come from very wealthy families. Unlike in Grinnell, there’s no “shabby chic” mentality, unless you count pre-ripped and –faded jeans. I don’t tell kids I meet here about my love for thrift stores; I’m afraid they’ll think I need their aid to stop wearing second-hand clothes. It’s been a little warmer this week, or I’m just acclimatized, but I’ve stopped wearing my long johns…. I do still wear a hoodie at night.

I think it’s true what they say about Egyptian hospitality. I met a girl here named Dena on Wednesday, and she said to let her know whenever I was free and that we would hang out. So on Friday (which is the Sabbath here, remember, and the work week starts on Sunday) we went to “City Stars,” (that’s what they call it in Arabic too, سيتي ستارز) the big mall here, and two American girls I know from the dorms came too. Dena steered us to the food court, and then as soon as I finished ordering, jumped in front of me and said, “Laura, go sit down.” I put up a small argument, but she was not to be deterred from paying for my food. She did the same for the other two, even strong-arming one of them into ordering at all. She was great at hosting us at the mall, and we all just walked around and looked at things.

My roommate moved in finally! She was spending time with her mom, but now she’s here and she’s great. Her name is Enas (sounds a little like Ines) and she’s from Egypt but she grew up in Kuwait. She’s really nice and friendly and we went to dinner (lunch for her) at 4:30 on Thursday on campus. I’ve heard three other Americans talking about bad situations with their non-American roommates, like the person talks too much or too little or is standoffish or asks if they can borrow/have all of the American girl’s stuff, and I have zero complaints about mine and a lot of good to say. Even though she doesn’t go to mosque, she says she’ll take me one of these weeks so I can see and experience Friday prayers. How generous!

Other stuff
Please notice the change in email. Since my AUC email is hosted in Egypt, it’s just easier to access than my Grinnell mail. You can email me for my cell phone number here, if you’d like to call me on your international calling card, since I get free incoming. I’m still trying to figure out an inexpensive way to call the US, because a five minute call will eat most of my minutes on the pay-as-you-go phone (or “mobile” in Egyptian English) that I bought.

Mom has told me to write more tactile descriptions, and I think I’ll try to work on that in my next post, which will be full of pictures. Also, I have a couple small adventures to descibe, including one at the pyramids! Hopefully, as the semester goes on, I'll be able to write more focused (and shorter) entries, but I'm still inundated with new sights and observations, and I think that's what you all are interested in reading at this point as well.

Also for those of you wondering, Chris and I have been together for a year today. I'm smiling.