Perception

As my Arabic has improved (a completely unforeseen byproduct of my stay here), I have become more adventurous in my idle conversation with Egyptians. Before I could understand anything anyone said, it seemed to me that Egyptians were helpful, nice, welcoming, and mostly apathetic people. This view is a contrast to how I feel that Arabs are portrayed: angry, narrow-minded, selfish, and rude. 

In my feeble attempts in conversation with good, hard-working everyday Egyptians, I have found that not only is the first view true and the latter view false, but I have found that a little Arabic goes a long way towards furthering the view. Often I will say one Arabic word, and have it be returned with a jolly "Welcome to Egypt!! Where from?" Yesterday, a cab driver called my Arabic "heiyla 'awee." I know about 100 words (I write them down), and that means "very beautiful." Wrong, but thanks! He then told me that I could pay him whatever I wanted, a welcome change from the guys trying to overcharge over the "khowaga." 

I will have other posts regarding the niceness and helpfulness of Egyptians, but I also wanted to point out another hilarious byproduct of this misperception of Egyptians. Right before I came here, I went around asking all my friends who knew all kinds of silly questions about security. Do people hate Americans? Do you get harrassed? Am I going to get deported? Am I going to get blown up? Will I get pickpocketed? Mugged? I lived in Cairo for three days before I saw that all of these questions are absolutely ridiculous. 

The funny part is this: every American coming here for the first time asks all of those questions, and then finds them laughable once they see it for themselves. Egypt may be right in the center of the most closed-minded and turbulent region in the World, from lunatic Pirates to the south to a heated war over existence to the north and unhinged racist political leaders and massive terrorist cells gripping a country on the brink of war to the northeast (both of those articles are from today, by the way), but Egyptians generally have little interest in involving themselves with this strife (and I didn't even mention Iraq, Afghanistan, Darfur, Hezbollah, or insane Emirati leaders who like to videotape their torture, among others). 

So, I can understand why these misperception of Egyptians exist, but they in truth are nothing like the people in this region making the news daily. Hopefully Ol' Barry can shine some light on this during his upcoming trip!

Friday

I was talking to my mother on the phone and she asked me how my conversion to Islam was going. While the odds of me picking up a faith while in Egypt are slim, I figured that, it being Friday and all, I would write a post about some of my more interesting experiences having to do with the heavy Muslim influence in Egypt. 

I was having a conversation with someone I met about the possibility of Barack Obama going to a major Muslim capital within the first 100 days of his administration, to make a speech to the Muslim world. It was quickly pointed out to me that the term "Muslim Country" is incorrect, and can actually make people mad. The man I was talking to said that even though a vast majority of Egyptians are Muslim, and law in Egypt is still based in Islamic scripture, they don't like to be identified as a "Muslim Country". OK. Arab Republic of Egypt. Apologies. 

I have written before about the call to prayer, and that however annoying it may be, it still rings with me as remarkable that there exists a 5-times-daily reminder that everyone here has something in common, a tying bind. But it is larger than that. Coming from America, you cannot imagine something, anything (let alone religion or faith), having this kind of effect on the daily life, routine and culture of an entire nation. 

For example, when I went to Ain Sokhna, Laura and I went to bus station midday on Friday to see the bus times (because heaven forbid they put them on the internet). It wasn't massively inconvenient, since we didn't intend on leaving until the evening, but when we got the station at 12:15 on Friday, it was absolutely deserted. We found a lone security guard, who informed us that the ticket takers were praying, and that we would have to wait. Until 1:10. At a bus station!!?!?! Good luck getting food or any kind of service.  

This sacred morning once a week is not the only influence on culture and society. There are many cultural oddities that I suspect are grounded in the scripture. Wearing shorts immediately labels you as a "khawaga," a somewhat affectionate term implying something along the lines of "silly foreigner." If a cafe serving drinks has an outdoor eating section, alcohol is strictly forbidden in that section. I have never seen a woman sitting in the front seat of a taxi (the normal place to sit for any male riding alone). And when my friends decided they were going to teach me some swear words in Arabic in a taxi one night, the driver nearly kicked us out of the cab. I have no idea what ties these cultural oddities have with the Muslim faith, but to me, the khawaga, random and strange they certainly are, and as I sit here starving on this Friday morning, I wonder what horrific faux pas I commit on a daily basis. 

Timothy

It was one of those weird things where something loud wakes you up, but it was part of a dream. As if you heard the sound, and in that split second your mind fabricates an elaborate and stressful backstory concerning the source of the sound, and then forces you to experience that stressful bcakstory. I sat straight upright as Theo hollered and bounded across the living room and into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him (I sleep in the living room). It had to be around four am. My heart was still pounding when he timidly opened his door and said, "We have rats."

He claimed to have seen two, both sitting on the edge of the bathtub as he stumbled into the bathroom in the middle of the night. Now going to the bathroom was even more of an adventure than it already was, and I was terrified of even shutting the door. 

We didn't encounter any more rats until a little over 24 hours later. It was 8:30 am this time, and I was dozing, so I was not going to be startled this time. I grunted as Laura made her way towards the shower. The split second the door shut I heard a scream, and the door flew open as Laura backed out into the living room. "It landed on my head!!!!" I rolled my eyes to myself and pretended not to be awake, but after 30 seconds, it was clear she was going to need some help. "I'll let you know if it scurries under my door!!" Theo called out from inside his bedroom. Thanks. 

So there we were, in a standoff with Tim the Rat (we had decided that he needed a name). He was sitting on the window sill, staring nonchalantly at us, as we stood there terrified, me in boxers and a t-shirt holding a pot and a lid, and Laura in her towel holding a ladle. We approached him, and he leapt, climbing the glass panes to the top of the curtain, like a flying squirrel across the bathroom into the sink (ricocheting off of Laura, again), and then onto the floor, out the door, and behind the washing machine. Grover Cleveland, our surly (and insane) tabby cat, who is apparently an awful and/or disinterested hunter, sat incredulously watching from on top of the sideboard. "OK, enjoy your shower," I said as I climbed back into bed, and as Laura stood there in post-traumatic shock. 

Twelve hours later we were having an enjoyable evening, when Grover started acting strange (stranger than usual anyways). Loping around the apartment like an idiot, we figured he was finally showing interest in Tim. Investigating, I walked into the kitchen and he was sitting, stock still, staring at the ceiling. This was weird for three reasons: he never goes in the kitchen, he never sits still, and he never stares. I turned and looked up, and there sat Tim, on a pipe running along the upper corner of the kitchen. 

Figuring Grover had Tim trapped for at least a few minutes, I ran downstairs to get our bowab, which is in Egypt, a sort of doorman/super/handyman/resident of the crappy tiny ground floor apartment. His name is Mohammad, and not only does he not speak a word of English, but he has a hard time communicating in Egyptian arabic. We are not sure where he is from. "Andee farr," I said. I have a rat. "Ariff," he said. I know. Thanks a lot, Moh. (I call him BoMo, short for Bowab Mohammad) Trying to stumble and gesticulate through some awful arabic sentence, his wife appeared next to him with a wooden spoon and a plastic bag. As he said the word for "you want?" he pounded his closed fist against the front knuckles of his other closed fist. "Aiwa," I said, and we marched up the stairs together. 

We got back into the apartment, and Grover and Tim were still in their staring match in the kitchen. It wasn't an angry stare, but more mutual expressions of bemusement. BoMo picked up Grover and handed him to me. Not really wanting a front row seat to the battle, I carried him back into the living room where Theo and Laura sat, interested to see how I had handled this. Without any sort of commotion or delay, BoMo walked out of the kitchen with a moonfaced grin. Proud as hell, he held Tim up by the tail, so we could all take in his deadness. Never losing his ear-to-ear smile, he walked over to the balcony, and tossed Tim's dead body into the garden, five floors below. He must have just bopped him on the head. How on earth did he do that? 

Thus ends the tragic story of Tim the Rat, Grover the Cat, and Moh the Boh. And so it goes.   

Zahi

On Sunday morning, I attended what I like to call the Zahi show. Dr. Zahi Hawass is a renowned Egyptian Archaeologist who, for the past decade or so has held the title of "Secretary General of the Supreme Council on Antiquities." Egypt's claim to fame, crown jewels, and staple of the economy have been running through Dr. Hawass, and he has not disappointed. The New York Times Saturday Profile by Michael Slackman last weekend offers a glimpse of the character of this renegade gunslinging cowboy, but seeing it with my own eyes made it whole different story.  

By now, most people have probably heard that they believe they have discovered the tomb of Marc Antony and Cleopatra. The fated couple, an Egyptian Queen and a Greek General, committed suicide together in 31 BC, and their final resting place has remained a mystery ever since. Their story has captivated people from Shakespeare to Elizabeth Taylor, and in reality, the new discovery at an already well-known site is a story that will sell itself. But ol' Zahi has to play this one up. 

So I had a friend at Reuters who was covering the story, and we tagged along in his car. Since it was a video press conference at an outdoor site, the light had to be right, so the conference began at 8 AM. Being three hours away, we woke up at 5 and hit the desert road. We got to the temple just as the press conference had started, and Zahi was just as advertised.

Impressing upon the cameras the significance of the discovery, as well as the personal ingenuity (speculation) that it took to make these predictions of the location of the tombs, the man was in his element. Granting every personal interview with a smile and a dramatic phrase, and even granting several requests for videos of him simply walking away from the camera, across the rocky and jagged floor of the temple, he did his best to sell this as not only an historic find, but as a massive asset for Egypt and its massive antiquities collection. 

People in Egypt have plenty of bad things to say about Dr. Hawass. His Indiana Jones persona and know-it-all demeanor grate politicians, archaeologists, and the public alike. Without repeating Slackman's largely tongue-in-cheeck profile, I saw for myself how he can hog the spotlight and trample on other arghaeologists findings. But the man has a plan. 

Few people here might agree with me on this, but Dr. Hawass is good at what he does. Recognizing antiquities as an enormous asset to Egyptian tourism (a large chunk of the Egyptian economy), he is working tirelessly to mark the Egyptian Antiquities as a brand. He does his best to play up archaeological finds, postures for the camera, and has hatched a master plan to improve the antiquities museum (which I haven't written on yet, but really needs a serious revamping). I witnessed this branding in person, and let me tell you, it could certainly come off as annoying. But I was refreshing to see a man with a plan and a vision, especially one who could have serious influence on the economy and well-being of his country. 

Environment?!?

Our neighbor came over the other night to make us some Om Aly, a traditional Egyptian dessert. She is a jolly and maternal 25 year-old Egyptian studying law at Cairo University. I asked her what kind of law she was studying, and she said "business law." She knew that I was planning on going to law school next year, and she asked me what kind of law I wanted to study. 

"Well I think, at this point, that I kind of want to study environmental law."

"Environment?!?" She laughed and laughed and couldn't believe it. She would control herself, then look at me, and as if the sight of me was too funny to handle, would completely lose herself into more hysterics. After a few minutes of this, and some awkward sideways glances to my roommates trying to say "Should I be insulted by this?" she calmed down and realized that I was serious. Like a concerned mother, she asked me why I would choose to pursue something so ridiculous. 

In a classic case of "I blame the system," I quickly realized that I was fighting a losing battle by trying to explain such things to her. And she is a very smart girl! "We don't have environment in Egypt," she would say. Fair enough, I suppose. Because how can you evaluate the harm done to a bunch of sand? 

Pirates

The most adventurous people I know--those who have relished the opportunity to report from Gaza or the front lines of Hamas, recommended vacations in Yemen, and got detained roaming around Hezbollah territory in Lebanon for no other reason than to see it--have said that they would never, ever go to Somalia. The result of no government for 17 years in a poor and ideologically divided country is ruling warlords, widespread violence, and masses of people fleeing to Kenya and Ethiopia. Can you imagine a situation so bad, that you would leave everything and flee to Kenya? 

Civil Wars and attempts at peace talks and international aid have been fringe news items for the better part of two decades; since Somalis seem to keep to themselves, we don't seem to care too much. We concern ourselves with situations that affect us. But now, the instability has reached international waters, and we aren't happy. We have been inundated with the details of the harrowing story of the Maersk Alabama, we celebrated when we heard the end result, and now we have some follow-up questions. What are we going to do about this?

First, I ask, seriously, what is going on that we allowed this to happen? These people control (or at least have strategic proximity to) some of the most valuable shipping lanes in the world, and clearly have no authority to answer to, whatsoever. Because of pollution and overfishing, fishermen make $50 a month--put in this situation, wouldn't anybody try and go steal an enormous floating barge of easy cash? The shipping companies don't want blood on their hands, so they will pay ransoms on top of the cash for the commodities. In a lawless country, why wouldn't anyone do exactly what these pirates are doing? 

Clearly, an international response is unnecessary for this scrap in which three punk-ass Somali fishermen (who are horrible negotiators, by the way) were shot. But shouldn't something be done for these cargo ship captains, who are risking their lives just by driving a boat? Are there laws that can be written, or patrol ships to be dispatched? We don't need to descend an army onto a bunch of rogue fishermen, but lets make these American working men safe.

I see in Cairo all the time the motivation to take a bribe or a handout in exchange for letting things slide in a job. It makes good business sense for a cage cleaner at the zoo to take 10 pounds and allow a customer to play with a baby monkey. He's making zilch! And, it makes good business sense for the manager at the zoo to turn a blind eye, since he is paying that guy nothing to do a disgusting job. And if the owner of the zoo doesn't really care that its rating and prestige will fall slightly, then this kind of thing is going to happen. 

My point is this, and it never really occurred to me until I lived outside of America. The only way things like corruption, blackmail, kidnapping, stealing, and bribery aren't going to take place is either if you make it worth people's while to do their job honestly, or you give them a great enough penalty for doing it dishonestly. Incentives and accountability. They seem so simple, and yet, it remains to be seen what can be done to protect these Americans. 

Golf

A five-iron's distance from the Pyramids at Giza lies the Mena House golf course. The grass is brown and short, the greens are minefields, and stray dogs roam free, but the bunkers are filled with this incredibly soft, fine Saharan sand. I guess this is all to be expected. You gotta do something well. 

WESC

The Wadi Environmental Science Center is a small, self-sustaining education facility set on an organic olive farm owned by Wadi foods, a large Egyptian food conglomerate. It lies on the West side of the Alexandria Desert Road, a road that runs through the desert, west of the delta, from Cairo to Alexandria. How do they get their water? I don't know. Maybe olives don't need much water. But, for the past two days I have been lucky enough to be a part of the teaching staff at WESC, and what a rewarding experience it was. 

I woke up very early on Sunday morning (the Egyptian equivalent of a Monday), and got myself to Mohandiseen, a neighborhood not far from mine. I got on a microbus with a half dozen other people, all around my age or a few years older. I was the only white person, and the only native English speaker. The center was founded by a Belgian couple, so it has the French language in its roots, and the person who had recruited me speaks only passable English. I was shocked, though, at how smoothly everyone could transition from Arabic to English to French. Without pause they slip in and out of English and French, but speaking mainly Arabic. For the most part, I could understand the French, but either way, I chose to keep my mouth shut, not wanting to sound like the stupid American kid who knows only one language.

The center is a field trip destination for schools in Cairo. The children have barely left their urban hell-hole, let alone seen an Egyptian tortoise or had a fresh salad. They certainly do not have Earth Science built into their curriculum, so seeing an olive farm and playing with earthworms is a welcome escape for their teachers, and a wonder for the children. My first day was a shadowing of a leader teaching about animals in French, but yesterday I got to lead my own group of English-speaking kindergardeners through a tour of plants: what they are and how they work. When, as a class, we went to the garden and made a fresh salad, they were amazed, and they all agreed that they would ask their parents for salad for dinner tonight. 

Eighty Egyptian Pounds for a full day of work in the sun of the desert sounds awful, but I had one of the best days I have had while in Cairo. Hanging out with five-year-olds generally isn't my idea of a good time, especially if I have to explain things like "roots" and "chlorophyl" in extremely simple english, but I had a wonderful time, and I'm glad i could find a fulfilling activity in Cairo. 

Darkness

The desert road at night is just how you would imagine it. More than anything, it is dark. No streetlamps or headlights or ambient urban glow. After a long winter of sandstorms and disrepair, dunes have started to creep into the outside lanes. It winds, and it is fast. 

I found myself in the middle seat of the back row of a charter bus that we flagged down on the side of the road outside of Ain Sokhna, a sleepy Red Sea beach town. Lobster-y and out of it, I stretched my legs down the center aisle, put on my best running music and watched the bus pound the pavement and the kilometers peel off by the dozen in the flicking headlights. 

I needed to be at work at 8 am on Sunday, and as exhausted as I was at midnight on Saturday as we approached Cairo, I was overcome with a washing sense of content and calm joy. While the hot sun had sucked it out of me, the cool desert darkness had reinvigorated my mind, and as I dozed in the cab home from the bus station, I happily and wearily dreamed. 

Doug Glanville

After I wrote my long-winded diatribe yesterday, I was thinking more about sports, and the universality of competition as entertainment. I didn't mean to call soccer stupid; it's a way of life for billions, just as avidly following the Red Sox is a way of life for people with roots in New England, all over the world (I wear a Red Sox cap around Cairo, and strangers start conversations with me every day). Then, this morning I read a New York Times column by op-extra columnist and former Phillies, Cubs, and Rangers outfielder Doug Glanville (it's terrific, give it a read). It got me thinking even more.

Sports and culture will always be intertwined. I can't think that the rest of the world is weird for following soccer any more than I can think that Islam is weirder than Christianity. Just because many many people worship the gods of soccer and I don't, doesn't mean we aren't all at the altar of sport. 

My point was more about the reasons why, even in America, the vast "Melting Pot" of tastes and cultures, soccer will never take hold on a level even close to Latin, European, or African countries. I felt bad because, maybe a little bit, I sort of belittled soccer and the people that love it, and that's not what I meant to do. A lot of what this blog is are my comments on the remarkable cultural differences between here and where I know, and the capacity to live and breathe soccer is one of them. Sports bring people together, and that, I believe (and I think Doug Glanville would agree), is what is important. 

Football (Soccer)

I gave it a chance. I really did. I tried to like it. I chose a team to support, watched several games, tried to read up on the actual players, and even got into an argument (although it was short, and heavily burdened by a wide language gap). I don't mean to insult the intelligence of billions of people when I say this (they are all idiots though), but, soccer??? (and I'm back to calling it that now) I just don't get it. It makes absolutely no sense whatsoever that this could be the most popular sport in the world.  

How popular is soccer?? In an experiment inspired by the readers of Bill Simmons, I decided to consult the Google results. Type in David Beckham, and you will get fourteen and a half million results. That is not counting another 5 million results for the query "David Beckham pictures". Ronaldinho? 22.5 million results. Same for Pele, who is 68 years old. Kaka? 24.5 million. I haven't even heard of that guy. Zidane? 13 million. Type in "Manchester United" and you will find 31.8 million results (compared to only 27 million for the word "Mohammad"). Compare these numbers with some other world-famous athletes: Michael Phelps yields only 7.2 million results (along with 177,000 for "Michael Phelps bong"). Tiger Woods, Roger Federer, Alex Rodriguez, and LeBron James? 11 million, 6 million, 4.9 million, and 5.8 million results respectively. 68-year-old Pele holds up well to some world-famous retired athletes as well. Michael Jordan yields 10.9 million results. Mohammad Ali? 7.2 million. I typed in every world-famous athlete I could think of and no one else comes anywhere close. And if the New York Yankees were the Manchester United of American sports, wouldn't the phrase "New York Yankees" have more than 8.9 million results? Not that this is an exact measure of popularity, but I still find these results staggering, and they offer some kind of proof that, for whatever reason, soccer is by far and away the most popular sport in the world. 

But why? Why is this sport so popular to watch? I played soccer for many years, and I will not deny that it is fun to play. The universality, affordability, relative safety, and simplicity of the sport would make it widespread as an activity, but these factors do not necessarily extend to fandom, or else all Americans would be obsessed with dodgeball, tag, and bowling, and we wouldn't like sports as complicated and dangerous as football, expensive as ice hockey, or unique as baseball (the only other sport I know of where the defense is holding the ball is cricket). For the life of me I cannot figure out what makes soccer so universally appealing to watch. So, I have come to this conclusion. I, as an American, am just not wired to like soccer (or, everyone else is programmed to like soccer). It just doesn't compute in our heads. Americans love their sports, no one can deny that. But, I think that any venture involving selling the sport of soccer in America will inevitably fail because we are who we are, and this is why:

1. We like to see high scores. You cannot empirically deny the sayings pitching/defense wins championships. It does, and the examples are endless. Just this past year, the Phillies won the world series with the 6th best pitching staff in baseball. Who had the best defenses in basketball and football last year? The world champion Celtics, and the Super Bowl winning Pittsburgh Steelers. Steeler fans and National League diehards will tell you that they would rather watch their defense wreak havoc and their pitchers dominate than watch their teams flat outscore the opposition. But that doesn't mean we don't like to see a few touchdowns, home runs, or three-pointers every game. We do. Our favorite players are quarterbacks and home run hitters. We want to see the video-game stats in basketball. Sure, having a stifling defense is fun, and you will probably win plenty of games, but the chance to see Kobe Bryant score 80 points on a given night puts butts in the seats in Los Angeles. Even hockey's popularity is growing again, thanks in large part to rule changes designed to increase scoring. The point is that no American would have the patience for a game in which 3 goals scored is above average. It just wouldn't happen.

2. Tough = Sexy. It's not a coincidence that the most polarizing athletes in America are the good looking finesse players. Find me a sports fan outside of New York who likes Jeter, or outside of New England that likes Tom Brady. Take players like Cal Ripken Jr or Joe Montana or Michael Jordan, someone who epitomizes toughness, competitiveness, and a willingness to sacrifice their bodies for the W, and they are, at the very least, universally respected. We have romanticized the dirty uniform and the eye black so that universal popularity relates directly to perceived toughness. In soccer, it pays to be a Nancy. Take a dive in the box and earn your team a penalty kick, and boom, you got yourself a 1-0 win. Watching soccer players flop around and whine for fouls repulses me as an American sports fan. Here, a perceived foul starts some kind of discourse and they re-watch the replays and discuss and argue and fight. Meanwhile, the player is either still on the ground writhing around, or crying at the referee. None of that would ever stand in American sports, where they leagues fine and the media lambasts players and coaches for their slightly disparaging post-game comments, over the top drama and celebrations, and any strange on-field antics. 

3. Stats. Americans love stats. Our embracing of baseball as the "national pastime" is certainly in part due to its ability to be quantified with an accessible and understandable box score. There are no stats in soccer!! There is nothing to analyze! How would you expect to compete in an ESPN-centric culture, if there is nothing to talk about? I believe that this is one of hockey's problems. I saw a stat during a soccer game saying that a certain player had a certain number of goals, and a certain number of "touches" in that game. Touches? That's the best they could do? Could you imagine if someone tried to count that for basketball?? Or hockey?? It would be absurd. 

4. I think that there is something about the international aspect of soccer that turns Americans off to it. Football, Basketball, and Baseball were all invented and perfected in the United States, and America's best are better than that of any other nation. And, while hockey wasn't invented in the United States, the NHL is still the best hockey league in the world, and organizations like the Bruins, Rangers, and Canadiens have been around for almost a century. We don't like that the MLS is a crappy league, and we don't like that our national team gets beat soundly. We also don't like the fact that it would be a culture imparted onto us; it's the same reason we don't like rugby or cricket or the French. 

So, this turned into a bit of a rant, but it serves its purpose: I am officially announcing my retirement from being a soccer fan. I don't think they will miss me, and I probably won't miss them. I don't know whether the world is weird because they like soccer or we are weird because we won't accept it, but it's just another part of this strange culture I have experienced. I would love to hear people's thoughts on this, because I sure can't figure it out. 

Philae

The Philae Temple does not seem to garner much fanfare. I could be wrong about its popularity as a tourist site, but the temple (in Aswan) is far more remarkable than anyone had related to me. It is on a small Nile island all on its own, and when we went to the site where the ferries depart from, we were the only people there (the ferry drivers seemed to having a good time, despite the lack of actual ferrying). We arrived at the dock on the Philae island, and disembarked, immediately encountering enormous pylons marking the entrance to the temple. 

This seems like a good time to talk about the incredible carvings in and around all of these Ancient Egyptian ruins. It is important to note that the Ancient Egyptians were not interested in decorating their temples with "art", per se. All of these carvings, which were once painted, were created for representational purposes only. However, their artistic value is tremendous. Using a mix of hieroglyphs and vivid images, they convey stories of pharaohs and gods alike that a modern day tourist could very easily understand. Furthermore, the temples are all grand in their own way, but their grandeur is not for grandeur's sake. Every wall, column, obelisk, and pylon has symbolic meaning, and where they are placed in the temples, as well as their orientation, is just as important. 

Philae is unique, because it is one of the few temples that was not built using exact geometric proportions, and its layout does not follow a straight axis, or use only right angles. A temple honoring the goddess Isis, and for some unknown reason geometrically unusual, it is a "later" Ancient Egyptian temple, began by Ptolemy II (a greek Pharaoh, who ruled a few generations after Alexander the Great), and completed by the Romans. Along with the Egyptian carvings and 19th century graffiti, you can see Christian carvings as well, including several crosses. The sprawling temple was clearly the project of several men spanning many generations. Off to one side is a music stand built by the Roman Emperor Trajan, who ruled from 98-117 AD. 

Like Abu Simbel, the Philae Temple was relocated after the Nile was dammed. It lies between the smaller British dam, which was built first, and the larger "high dam". For some years, it was halfway flooded, and tourists visited it by boat, floating in and around the higher portions of the temple. It is very visible on the walls and columns of the temple where the water level was. It was finally moved to an island about 550 meters from its original site, after they raised the water level for a third time between 1972 and 1980. The original site is now a few wooden pilings sticking out from the placid water. 

After some reflection, I think that the temple at Philae is my favorite of the Ancient Egyptian temples. Aswan is a beautiful city with plenty of sights, but do not make the mistake of somehow missing this gorgeous ruin. 

Abu Simbel

On a cloudless breezy day overlooking Lake Nasser in southern (upper) Egypt, I saw the magnificent temple of Abu Simbel. Our tour guide got us seats in the front of the plane, hustled us through the airport and onto the bus, and floored it to the temple. Since there isn't much else in the city besides the temple and the airport, people pretty much see the temples by the planeload (there are two at the same site). As a result, our guide's shenanigans, which we thought were kind of annoying at first, got us to the temple so that we had it completely to ourselves for a solid 20 minutes. So besides being awestruck by the majestic physical aspects of the temple, we got to appreciate its solemn nobility.

The temple comes with an amazing story. It was constructed in the 13th century BC, carved into a mountainside by the great (and very egotistical) pharaoh Ramesses II. Meant to acknowledge the unification of upper and lower Egypt, commemorate his great victory at the Battle of Kadesh, intimidate the Nubians to the South, and become a lasting monument to himself and to most his beloved wife Nefertari, Abu Simbel took around 20 years to build, and features four statues of the pharaoh, each sitting over 20 meters high. Directly inside the temple sits a striking hypostyle with towering statues and columns, and exploring the several side chambers, particularly in the dusty peace and in contrast to the towering regal facade, produced unbelievable feelings of tranquility. 

Over time, the temples fell into disuse, and eventually became covered by sand dunes. It lay un-rediscovered and buried until 1813, when a Swiss orientalist happened upon the upper frieze. He told an Italian explorer about it, who found it as well, but did not succeed in digging out the entrance until 1817. The story says that it is named "Abu Simbel" after a local boy who showed the explorers where he believed a temple to be, since it had been covered and partially uncovered by the shifting dunes for centuries.

As the high dam in Aswan neared its completion in the late 1950's, an international fund to save Nubian Monuments from being flooded was founded, and from 1964 to 1968, at the cost of nearly 40 million U.S. dollars, the entire site was moved to higher ground, just above the bank of what is modern-day Lake Nasser. In one of the greatest feats of archeological engineering of all time, the two temples (one dedicated to Ramesses himself, and the other to Nefertari), look untouched and unmoved to the untrained eye. Apparently they were moved block by block, but it is difficult to tell that this ever occurred. 

Before I saw Abu Simbel, I had a hard time believing that an hour at any ancient temple would be worth a flight in and an immediate flight out, but the sights of the temples of Ramesses the Great proved their worth tenfold. It left me mystified and curious about the story of Ramesses II, and made a lasting impression of the remarkable feats of the Ancient Egyptians. They had to know that their place in history would be known forever. 

Return

To my thousands of readers who have been clamoring for a new post (O.K. only one noticed that it had been 10 days), be patient, they are coming. I have spent the past week traveling and seeing the sights of Upper Egypt, but I have returned to Cairo, so everyone should expect a flurry of travel related posts in the next few days. 

Also this past week, my family celebrated my grandparents' 50th wedding anniversary in Cabo. Sadly, I was unable to travel across the globe to help celebrate, but I wanted to Congratulate Grandma and Grandpa on 50 inspiring years!! (Hi Grandma...I know you're reading this...Wish I could have been there!!)

And finally, my roommate and frequent Magic Shwarma subject Theodore has been engaging with an organization called Planet Forward. Planet Forward is a website that encourages citizens to submit any type of reaction (writing, video, poem, song, etc) to a question posed by the site's editors. Leading submissions will be discussed in a PBS special set to air in April. The issue that is currently being posed involves America's attempt at a shift away from fossil fuels. I quote Theo:

"I made a video about the smuggling tunnels that run under the Egypt-Gaza border, bringing fuel across illegally to meet Gazans' energy needs. My purpose was to illustrate that as the U.S. plots a course away from fossil fuels, much of the planet will still go to great lengths to acquire them. If a leading reason to get away from fossil fuels is to curb global warming, then the U.S. must not limit its efforts to domestic projects; it must work to affect a global cultural shift." 

Audience response is one of the factors they use to determine which submissions will air, so I encourage everyone to visit this site, watch Theo's video, and give it a 5-star rating (or, to save time, you can take my word for it and just give it a 5-star rating). 

Check back here later today for fun-filled travel posts!! 

Alexandria

The day did not start out quite as planned. After sleeping through a few alarms, we ran out of the apartment 16 minutes before our train was scheduled to depart. Hoping that the dependably tardy trains wouldn't let us down this time, we ran across a pedestrian overpass and into Ramsis station at 9:01, only to see the train beginning to move. We started to run, and with the encouragement of Egyptian police officers, caught up to the back of the accelerating train. The back door of the last car was closed, so we kept running, hoping to catch up to the next car. With the romantic vision of hopping onto a moving train in our minds, the train kept getting faster, and we reached the end of the platform several yards short. 

While it was supposed to be a sightseeing day trip for me, Theo had a press conference to cover, so we went with plan B. Lining the curbs outside of Ramsis are dozens of "microbuses", and with the hundreds of other hawkers, the drivers of these vans aggressively hawk passages to Alexandria. So, with fifteen other Egyptians (many looked as though they were dressed to be going out, including one teenage boy who was in metro bar-hopping clothes--and about a pint of lip gloss...it was 9:15 am), we piled into the back of this cramped and sweaty microbus, and set off onto the desert highway. 

Three hours and forty Egyptian Pounds later, we pulled up outside the train station in Alexandria. We got in a cab and drove directly to the library (where the press conference was), which looks like some kind of spaceship. The main part is shaped sort of like a large oblong dome, and its glass and silver exterior stands out from the rest of the grimy Egyptian buildings. I walked for about a mile east along the corniche, exploring a quiet neighborhood filled with walk-up apartments and street vendors. It doesn't really feel like Cairo; the cars don't honk as much, people are more laid back, and everyone is very helpful and nice. 

After a nice walk, I found a beautiful seaside cafe with palm frond umbrellas, and within a spit's distance to the ocean. On this cloudless day where the temperature was in the mid-70's and I was getting surf spray on my face, I could not have asked for more. After a tea and a shwarma, Theo's press conference got out (it started an hour and a half late, lasted fifteen minutes, and was largely in Italian... meanwhile most of the Egyptian reporters spent the night before in Alexandria... it seems like the standard for organization here is pretty low), and we went and found a street-front seafood cafe. 

At this cafe, you walk into this little room with piles of different kinds of fish, shrimp, and squid. You point to what you want, they put it in a basket and weigh it, take it back, and fry it up. We went and sat at a table on the sidewalk while they brought us this massive seafood feast, complete with veggies, seafood soup, hummos, whole fish, shrimp, and wonderfully crispy and fresh fried calimari. Best meal so far, and I don't really even like seafood. 

After a few beers in the Softel as the sun set, looking over the corniche and onto the Mediterranean Sea, we set off back to the train station. The train, even though we couldn't catch it by running after it, is still a colonial experience. The forty-five pound (8 dollar) first-class tickets bought us seats in a cabin that was at least sixty years old. The rickety train, which in comparison to some of the other commuter trains in and out of Cairo is state-of-the-art, was not great to look at, and the ride was at times harrowing. It was, however, comfortable, and included beverage service. Besides the teacart man begging us incessantly for help in attaining an American visa, the two hour train ride back to Cairo was overall a pleasant experience. I just wish we had caught it on the way up, as I missed some of the more picturesque countryside in the darkness. 

Alexandria is a beautiful and pleasant city. It is similar to Cairo in ways, but the streets are wide, the air is clean, and the constant bustle seems to have drifted off to sea. In a city dominated by its proximity to the Mediterranean, none of these things come as a shock. Not counting our little adventure to start the day, Alexandria is a perfect day trip from Cairo, one that I plan to take several more times during my stay in Egypt. 

Acceptance

I have always thought that I would like to go through the college process again, but instead of blindly sending applications, being unappreciative of the gravity of the situation, and not feeling the stress of whether or not I would get admitted, I would like to go through it with the knowledge and experience that I have acquired since then. In my high-school senior naivete, I applied to a mixed bunch of schools without really knowing what I wanted in a school and why. I ended up somewhere that I didn't know much about and for reasons lost to me by the end of my senior spring, and although it worked out great and I loved Lehigh (for different reasons than I originally thought), I always wondered what the college process would have been like with greater depth to my worldly knowledge a greater enchantment in my goals. 

The good news is, I got my chance, and the process is largely complete. Armed with solid motivations for wanting to go to law school in the first place, I researched schools, made a list, visited them all, gathered all my information, went through the daunting process of reducing everything I bring to the table to a file of papers, made my connections, made my pitches, and started to hear back, and here I am, alive. Unlike the way I approached it in high school, the waiting was the worst part, which I guess is how it is supposed to be (although I still hated writing those personal statements). The idea that some people are sitting around, evaluating you, and trying to come up with an accurate picture of a person is terrifying. This is an idea that was somehow lost on me five years ago. 

And unlike five years ago, I am able to adequately evaluate my success in the process. Out of high school, I got in somewhere, and that was fine with me. Because I didn't know what I was looking for or looking at, I just went where I went. There was no "top choice". There was no excitement and pleasure in being accepted. Even though I have been reluctant to make a "vertical list" of schools, you better believe that I am taking pleasure in this feeling. With the pressure of not knowing went the pressure of the future, and being admitted into Vermont is a feeling that I have never really felt. Maybe it's that I have never really wanted something that badly, but you better believe that I'm chasing this feeling. 

Hearing from my top choice first is wonderful, because as I said to my mother, everything else is gravy. Technically, I am still being evaluated and assessed, but as far as I'm concerned, the process is over. I made it, and I'm really glad I did it, because it was a lot more enjoyable this time around. I know because I can't stop smiling. 

The Works

Without going into graphic details, there have been some things that were not "agreeing" with me digestively, and I was forced to spend the last four days lying on my back in a dark room. (apparently this is common with travelers and back-country explorers...) What was still a slightly jet-lagged sleep schedule has become a completely whacked pattern of sleep, what was a voracious appetite for everything delicious has dried up to nothing (since Friday I have had half a pita and some chicken-and-rice soup, seriously, I'm not even hungry right now), and I am pretty sure I have listened to every podcast iTunes has to offer. Sadly, I was also unable to post to The Magic Shwarma, but to make it up, I have decided to write one large all-topics-covered post. In no particular order, I present to you The Works:

It turns out that I have been misled about the names of certain inspirational eateries. I didn't explain this in my food post so I suppose I should explain it here. The Magic Shwarma is the name of a Shwarma stand in Dokki, a neighborhood of Cairo. They cut greasy chicken off of a huge spit, and put it with pickles and yogurt into without-a-doubt the best pita in the world. It's the next step that sets them apart, though, as they dab the sandwich in the grease that has collected under the spit and then grill it under this large stone slab (almost like a medieval panini machine). Heavenly. And, I was led to believe by my friend Theo that this stand was called The Magic Shwarma, and that name provided inspiration for my Sam-is-in-Egypt blog. However, I found out that the stand is actually called Abu Ramis, which is Arabic for "Father of Ramses." Oh well. 

From the files of: "Cairo is strange", I found this gem on the website for the Four Seasons First Residence, one of the newest and nicest luxury hotels in Cairo: "Services provided by the Hotel: Transportation to and from the airport is available using the limousine services provided by the Hotel. Charges are determined based on distance." Distance to where? Do you think many people land in Cairo after a long flight and request to go sightseeing? I have been here for almost two weeks, and I am 99% sure that neither the Four Seasons First Residence nor the Cairo International Airport can move. Do you think you can request to go "The Long Way"??? 

Also, Daylight Saving began in the States two nights ago. Daylight Saving begins here in the end of April. Apparently, Daylight Saving begins and ends at all different times around the world, but it presents for a strange situation when communicating across time zones, as a seven hour difference to the east coast has turned into a much more manageable six hours for the next six weeks, when it will change back to seven. 

The football team Zamalek has played two matches since my last postings!! Apparently, the standings I listed for the football post were for all of Africa, when the standings that really matter are the Egyptian League Standings, in which Zamalek is in 9th and hated Al-Alhy is in 1st. Clearly, they have been struggling this year, so much so that in the last few weeks, they hired a new coach. Zamalek won last Tuesday night for the first time under Michel De Castel, who is Swiss. Featuring a new-look lineup, they won 1-0 over ENNPI. Then, on Saturday night, they played the Al-Haras Club in Alexandria, and although they outperformed the "Border Guards" for most of the game, they came out on the bottom, after a 2-1 defeat. Haras scored their two goals on the only two scoring opportunities that they saw the entire game. It was a disappointing result for the White Knights, but their efforts against the 4th and 5th ranked club in Egypt show promise as they near an end to their Egyptian Premier League season. 

I am watching Zamalek play Gaish (I think) right now in all Arabic. Someone is winning 3-0. I have no idea what is going on, I hope that someone who can translate comes home soon so I can know what is happening in this game!!!

I went to the pharmacy last night, and although I am pretty sure you could get OxyContin for only a few pounds, there is no discreetness whatsoever. You must announce to the cashier what you are looking for, he tells his assistant (and everyone else in the tiny store), and he goes and finds it. No browsing. Thank God I was only getting Imodium and not something more embarrassing... 

Egyptian pop music is god awful. It is very strange to see the bits and pieces of Western Culture that the young people here pick up and run with, and I'm sure there is whole post on this later, but the most amazing thing to me is how bad the pop music is. Imagine if Britney Spears and Moby did an album together, except instead of a normal album, the "album" is one long song, Moby has lost that creative skill that he had that made the same song sound different, Britney is ugly, and it is sped up so its both higher pitched, and more exhausting. Now imagine the music video is our "Britney" dancing, except that it's not, because she's not dancing, there is tons of really tacky gold and pink everywhere, and her backup dancers are scrawny metro-sexual eleven year-old Egyptian boys. It's ten times worse than late 90's Ricky Martin-style pop. And, instead of nice quiet music, cafes, bars, and restaurants insist of having these music videos be the backdrop for their ambiance. I actually felt relieved when Beyonce's "Single Ladies" came on in a cafe last week. That is a bad song.

Do you think that Tiger and Roger refused to film this ad, or do you think some producer went on a power trip and wanted to make their CGI guys suffer? Did Tiger and Roger do the grunting voice overs?? Why is Jeter real?? Why is it so creepy? So many questions...

Theo has posted his video of our experience with the vendors at the pyramids. Sadly, he cut me out of it. Just kidding, but actually, a lot of the best footage of vendors was ruined because it was really very windy. It's still a good bit, and there are some other good pieces on his Global Post Blog. Check it Out. 

I guess that's it....if anyone is still reading at this point.

Air

The air quality in Cairo is not good. My gym is on a houseboat on the Nile, and I run on the treadmill looking at a smokestack billowing thick black smoke. The sky is not blue, but gray. The air smells of filth, and while on crowded roadways with buses and diesel cars, it is tough to breathe at all. Problems range from industrial pollution and lots and lots of old cars to many tall buildings causing a bowl effect, and its hot arid climate. 

One of the biggest problems with evaluating Cairo's air quality is the lack of solid data. The existing data are sketchy to begin with, as they measure pollutants with only forty-odd stations in and around the city. In addition to being unreliable, the data are too recent to be in any way helpful. The systems were set up in the late 90's (with help from a Japanese advisory council), and air quality data begin becoming available around 2001. There is no way to create policy, let alone evaluate its effectiveness with 8 years of sketchy data. Preliminary studies place Cairo's air as some of the dirtiest in the world, comparable with that of Mexico City, Sao Paolo, and Bangkok, all three of which are more than twice as dirty as Los Angeles or Pittsburgh (which consistently pitch battle for the title for "American City with the Dirtiest Air"). 

The main pollutants are hydrocarbons, particulate matter, and lead, all of which can cause cancer, the particulate matter because of the solid and liquid carcinogens it can carry. I suspect that there is a lot of natural particulate matter (sand, dust, etc), which because of poor dispersion due to its climate, would be tough to regulate down. The primary issues associated with particulate matter are breathing problems such as asthma and decreased lung function. Lead, which has been regulated down to extra-cautious levels throughout the United States with the requirement of unleaded gasoline, can cause cancer and fatal neurological problems. Again, this is just a suspicion, but I would be willing to bet that with an overhaul of the automobile fleet, this problem would be largely alleviated, much like it was in the States. Hydrocarbons are a little tougher to track down, and the United States has had varied success trying to keep its hydrocarbon levels down in industrial areas. 

The United States only had success in cleaning its air (and for those unfamiliar with it, the Clean Air Act is the best example of successful environmental legislation) not just because of government action, but because it became socially unacceptable to pollute air in any way (where else in the world can you NOT smoke inside??) People cite the old cars and the desert as factors in Cairo's dirty air, but I have to consider the political influence of the rich and unclean. The socio-economic system here caters to the rich, and I can't imagine that industry polluting everyone's air for a pretty penny is any different. 

Some sources cite the air quality in Cairo as 100 times higher than acceptable world standards. This makes the health risks for its citizens high and dire, with numbers being thrown around such as 1 in 30 people experiencing serious adverse health affects (as a general rule of thumb, the EPA looks to regulate when the risk is any higher than 1 in 1,000,000). Cairo's filth is going to be detrimental to its citizens, if it's not already, but dirty air is the kind of problem that is alleviated only with social cooperation and a wider reform. I don't know what the future of Cairo's air is, and from a broad environmental regulatory standpoint, they are 30 years behind the United States. In order for the future of Cairo to include blue sky, they need more ways to evaluate the problems, better ways to regulate the pollution, more stringent requirements that are followed by everybody, and a general social desire for clean air. 

Taxis

Traffic in Cairo, and in particular taxis in Cairo, are absurd. The downright ridiculousness of the commuting situation is tough to describe, you probably have to see it for yourself. I am going to try anyway because it is so remarkable. I haven't seen the subway yet (I'm not looking forward to it), but all above ground transport is beyond anything you would EVER see in America. 

Cairo redefines any standard idea of distance between cars. Today I walked out of an office building, and to get where I was going next, took a right. The two cars parked on the sidewalk were so close to the building, each other, and the cars on the street, which were in turn parallel parked so close to each other, that I had to retrace my path fifty or sixty yards the other direction past the door of the office building. I am not exaggerating, every car was within an inch of something else, making this wall of cars impassible without climbing on hoods. This phenomenon is not unique to parked cars either. If a truck is in the left side of the left lane, and a car is in the middle to right side of the right lane, lane-line be damned, you have to drive through. Furthermore, if the two cars in front of you are not on the outside of their respective lanes, you honk at them so you can pass between them. I can't tell you the number of times I have been close enough to slap the driver of the car next to me in the face.

The commuting is just silly. People hop in and out of moving buses. Dozens of people wait around on the side of the highway, I'm not entirely sure for what or whom. Every now and then a fifteen passenger van crammed with twenty five people pulls over and picks a few up. The urban sprawl ends abruptly at the desert, which means there is no suburbia, and therefore no logical commuting patterns, which means that there can be a stopped dead traffic jam anytime, anywhere (and there are, always, everywhere). The cars are small, which is good, but old, which is bad. Everything is one of those tiny Peugeots or Renaults or Fiats from 1970's. People drive like maniacs, and there are literally neither stoplights nor crosswalks. Crossing the street is like a game of frogger (including the cars not slowing down), which is terrifying for pedestrians, as well as automobile passengers, and gets especially hairy because the distance between lanes is just a few inches. The only reason it (sort of) works is because cars don't drive faster than 30 mph. Sadly, the reason for the slow speed is because most of the cars cannot go any faster, because they are too old. 

Taxis are another story in and of themselves. They recently passed a law saying that in two years, all taxis over 20 years old need to be off the roads. By my count, this will affect 95% of cabs. You tell the driver where you want to go, and then the journey is harrowing. The driver honks his horn constantly (literally every six seconds), which is annoying, but at the same time is crucial for narrowly avoiding fender-benders. The horn thing is a little weird, though. Everyone does it, often when there is no one around. They use it with the "hey look at me so I don't have to slow down or change direction" mentality. Then comes the fare. There is no meter, and it is not pre-decided. You can haggle, but mostly you throw whatever you think the driver deserves at him, he acts mad, and you get out of the car. Absurd. 

This whole traffic scenario is pretty indicative of the Egyptian way of life. Human health and public safety are not taken into account, and mostly everything is informal, if not half-assed. It is strange, but no one here seems to think it as being odd. It's just another vast cultural difference that makes Cairo unique. 

Pigeon

Anyone who knows me well knows that I would not be visiting in Egypt unless I was sure that I was going to love Egyptian food. And guess what? I do! It is just as greasy, salty, meaty and hearty as I thought it was going to be. I haven't put a single bite in my mouth that I did not savor. 

To be clear, there is American food everywhere. On my small residential block alone, there is a Cinnabon, a Pizza Hut, a McDonalds, a Hardee's, and what looks like a higher class of American-style restaurant. There are also several shisha joints which serve more traditional Egyptian fare, and a couple of stands that are more for a lunch-time crowd, and are fast food, but are decidedly Egyptian (but you can get a burger if you want). American food is fine, and I have had an acceptable burger, and a pizza from Pizza Hut. I also love hummos, but hummos is not traditionally Egyptian. It still is delicious; it is better than any hummos I have had in the states. They make it with olive oil and mix in a few veggies. Mixed with some warm and soft pitas, the hummos alone is worth the trip.

A more traditional dish that I have enjoyed several times is the shish tawook. It is marinated chicken, grilled on a kabab, then either served with rice and veggies, or in a sandwich with peppers and onions. The meat tastes fresh and juicy, and the bread or the rice always seems to be high quality. It is already one of my favorites. Another traditional Egyptian dish is kofta. Kofta is delicious dry sausage. The first night I was here I attended a reception to celebrate the opening of the Dominican embassy, and a man I met that evening told me that it was beef mixed with camel meat. It is a little less salty than real beef, but the camel gives it a nicer texture, and holds the beef together. Dipped in some real tahini sauce, the kofta is a treat.

The highlight of my Egyptian dining experience thus far, though, has been the pigeon. We went shopping in a bazaar in the downtown area, and stopped in what is apparently the best place for stuffed pigeon in Cairo. It is pretty much a nook in the side of an alley. There are a few tables inside and a few outside. Stray cats are all around, and there is no menu. To start with, they bring you a bottle of water to drink, and glasses of pigeon soup. With a little salt and some lemon, it tastes tart and gamey, and its warmth spreads through the whole body. Then they bring you a salad, some pita and tahini, and a plate of kofta, and finally, we each got a stuffed pigeon. The cooked bird looks about like you would think a stuffed pigeon would look like. I stuck my fork in to try and pick it apart, and it is immediately clear that there really isn't any meat on the bird. The skin is tight and the meat is stringy, but as I pulled it apart, I saw that it's cavities were filled with brown rice. There is a lot of rice, and it is savory, juicy, and delicious. The more adventurous among us went for the skin, meat, and even organs of the bird, but I stopped with the rice. However gross it may sound, the meal was very satisfying, and very delicious. 

I look forward to exploring Egyptian cuisine, and even trying my hand at cooking. However, I don't think I will ever replicate the shock when I saw a stuffed pigeon placed in front of my on a dinner table, and the surprise and happiness that ensued when I consumed it. 

Pyramids

Today, Theo and I went out to The Great Pyramids of Giza. The Pyramids and the Sphinx are unbelievable monuments. To think that these massive structures were built with third millennium BC engineering and technology is mind-blowing, as is the fact that they have staunchly weathered the test of time. As the world's tallest manmade structures for 3800 years, they are as majestic as tombstones get. 

The coolness of the actual Pyramids aside, today's excursion was a telling display of how different American and Egyptian ways and cultures are. For comparison's sake, say the Pyramids were on top of a hill somewhere in the Mojave desert. You would have to pay fifty dollars to enter the grounds. When purchasing your admission, you would be given an option of several packages, like a guided tour, headset tour, horse-and-buggy ride, admission inside an actual pyramid, meal at the rotating restaurant, attendance to the "Pharaoh Light Show", etc. Among the Pyramids, which would be very clean and well-maintained, would be wide wooden boardwalks with informational boards lining the railings every several yards, and from which you would not be allowed to stray. To leave the grounds, there would be one exit, through which you would enter the "Pyramids Museum", the "Pyramids Cafe", and the "Pyramids Gift Shop". There might even be a theme ride. 

As it is, the Pyramids are on the outskirts of Cairo, which means that they make up a price for everyone based on how big of a sucker they think you are. I was charged 60 pounds (10 dollars), and Theo got in free because he speaks Arabic and has a journalist ID. Once inside, there is absolutely no regulation or signs or guided anything. There are the occasional uniformed "Tourism Police", tons of tourists, and hundreds of people trying to sell you things.  You pretty much just walk around some dusty desert. You can climb on the pyramids, but the "building blocks" are huge, and a pain to climb. It is absolutely shocking that one of the most marketable and iconic tourist destinations in the world is run like this. Any American who took an economics class could make an absolute killing by improving the way this place is run. 

Which brings me to the dominant experience of the visit. As you drive down the highway getting close to the pyramids, there are hoards of men standing in the middle of the road, and as you slow down not to hit them, they come up and shake the hand of the cabbie. Then they start aggressively trying to sell you a camel or horse-and-buggy ride up into the pyramids. And when I say aggressive, I mean they try and open the car door and get in. One man never stopped yelling at us as he hopped on the trunk. Theo slammed his hand against the window and yelled "GO AWAY", and he finally got the picture. Once inside the grounds, they are relentless. All you have to do is look at one camel, and they descend like vultures. They repeatedly ask "how much? how much? They do not take no for an answer. They work in increments, so first you are taking a picture of the camel, then you are holding the riding crop, then you are sitting on the camel just to see what it's like, then they don't let you down until you pay them (camels are waaay to tall to jump from). They also aggressively try to sell you little knick-knacks. One man was trying to sell me little stone pyramids, and he kept banging them together really hard, as if their structural integrity was a deal-breaker for me. It's insane. 

The most hilarious part of the whole thing is that Theo decided that he is going to do a video blog post about the venders at the Pyramids for Global Post. (Check here in about a week or so for it) So he had a video camera, which for some reason, drew these people in like sharks to blood. They would flock to him, aggressively trying to sell whatever they had. Theo would not respond, and just hold the camera up to their faces as they yelled at him to buy a camel ride. They didn't really know how to handle this response, so they pause briefly, but just keep asking and haggling with themselves, until Theo stops the recording and walks away. They would follow, and start asking me, and it was all I could do to keep from laughing. 

So, the Pyramids are amazing, but if anyone ever goes, don't let anyone tell you that a camel is required for entry, because it's not, and if you look like a dumb enough American, they will tell you this lie. And if anyone comes anywhere near you, avert your eyes.

Soccer (Football)

In Egypt, as is true in most of the rest of the world, there is only one sport that captures the attention of the people: football (I guess I have to start calling it that, now). When I came to Cairo, I thought that I might try to get into a strange sport like cricket or jai alai or handball. But, it turns out that people expend so much energy rooting for their favorite football club, that there isn't really enough time for any other interest. So, I'm just going to have to get myself into football. 

First, I need to pick a team to root for. It turns out that, basically, it is acceptable to be a fan of only two clubs in Cairo. There are other clubs, but the most heated and widely recognized (not to mention historical) rivalry is between the "Al Ahly" club and the "Zamalek" club. In fact, it turns out that neither club has ever been relegated in their respective histories, which means that they have always been in the top tier of football clubs in all of Africa. 

As a sidenote, why couldn't a relegation system work in American sports, especially baseball? Imagine Major League Baseball split into two tiers. The bottom tier would be the fifteen crappy teams playing their butts off for a chance to be in the big boys league. The top tier would not only be higher quality baseball every night, but every team would be playing for something, because you are either going to the playoffs, or you are getting relegated to the "B" league. So, at the end of the season, instead of having an endless summer of irrelevant Rangers-Royals games, you have only a handful of irrelevant games, since the only teams with nothing to play for are the crappyest of the crappy, the teams at the bottom of the "B" league with no chance of moving up. But even those teams will become a little more competitive. For example, the Pirates and Nats would still be at the bottom of the "B" league, but instead of losing dozens of games to the Mets and the Phils, they substitute those games for more winnable games against, say, the Mariners and  Orioles. Worse competition, but at least you aren't losing 120 games a year. A whole post on this is coming, I think. But for now, I digress.

Initially, I thought that choosing a football alliance was going to be simple. Since I live in a neighborhood in Cairo called Zamalek, I would simply root for the most local team. It's not that simple. It turns out that, not only is Zamalek (the football club) not in Zamalek (the neighborhood), but instead in Giza, a suburb of Cairo, but Al Ahly practices on a field on El Gezira, the island in the middle of the Nile where Zamalek (the neighborhood) is. No help there. 

The history of the clubs is pretty interesting. Al Ahly, which basically means National in Arabic, was founded in 1907 as an Egyptian Nationalistic club, in a time when Egypt was still existing under British colonial occupation. Naturally, in that time, huge social and political implications arose from the clubs successes and failures, and it has been intertwined with the political history of Egypt ever since. President Nasser was named its honorary president for a time in 1956, and in 1967 during Israeli occupation, all sporting members were required to endure military training, or else be banned. 

Zamalek was formed in 1911 by a Belgian to be a rival to Al Ahly. These clubs were just starting to hate each when, as the story goes, there was a young man named Hegazy. Hegazy formed a sort of rogue soccer team of his own around this time, and called it "Hegazy's Eleven." They played various teams made up of British soldiers, and were extremely successful, prompting the two clubs to get in a sort of bidding war for their football services. Hegazy ended up playing for Al Ahly, and the other ten for Zamalek. The rivalry was on. 

Historically (and today), Al Ahly is the better team, with Zamalek constantly playing the scrappy underdog role. Currently, they are ranked 4th and 8th in Africa (the Garoua club in Cameroon has a commanding hold on 1st place). The decision on whom to root for is tough, because while you want to be a fan of the better team, the underdog can be irresistible too, and it is close enough that Zamalek could pull off the upset at any time. You have to like the old team with Nationalist ties, but at the same, how can you not root for the squad full of mercenaries administered by foreign expats? These days, both teams are made up of virtually all Egyptians, but their reputations seem to last. 

In the end, I have to say that I am going to root for Zamalek, for two reasons. One, Zamalek's uniform is waaaay cooler. There is no debate there; their "visiting kit" is all black!!! Two, my friend Theo is a fan of Al Ahly. So there you go. Go Zamalek!!

The First Day

I landed around 9:45 am local time, and noticed a few strange things immediately:

1) It was very clear who had flown on an American Airline before and who had not. Those who had not disregarded all flight attendant instructions as we approached Cairo. One man stood up, opened an overhead bin, and started rummaging through his stuff just as we touched down. Then, during that awful time when the people in the back of the plane have to wait for the people in the front of the plane to get off, all these lost-looking Egyptians started saying very politely: "excuse me, excuse me" and made their way up to the front of the plane! It was as if all the rest of us had just stood up to stretch our legs, and we were in the way. Very strange. I wonder if they even have flight attendants on other country's airlines. 

1a) I don't really want to dwell on the plane, because it's just not that interesting, but I saw "The Secret Life of Bees" on it. Did anyone else think that Dakota Fanning's character was a little too young for her love interest? I didn't watch it with sound, so maybe that was acknowledged, but either way, I felt creepy watching her lick honey off of his fingers. 

2) The "Old" Terminal at the airport is the one that was most recently built, and "Upper Egypt" is in the south. I wonder what else they got backwards. 

3) I have always marveled at how traffic in New York City considers lane lines as mere suggestions. Well, let me tell you, they are strictly followed compared to how the lunatics follow them here. Our cab never went faster than 25 mph, so I never felt in imminent danger of death, but as far as I can tell, the next lane over begins exactly one half inch on either side of your car, and an appropriate stopping gap is 2-4 inches. Not to mention, people are constantly just standing in the middle of the road. 

4) Every few hours, the call for prayer can be heard throughout the city. I'm sure this is nothing new for anyone that has ever been to a city that is predominantly muslim, but the first time you hear it, it is haunting. But, as the day has worn on, the strange wail of prayer over crappy loudspeakers has become more and more comforting. It's kind of neat to think that there is something as intimate as mass prayer, however illogical and strange it may be to me, that everyone in this enormous city takes time out of their day to share with each other. 

5) In the future, I will put political stuff in their own posts, but for now, when the waiter at the shwarma joint/hookah bar/backgammon hall/harem (not really) found out I was American, the only thing he wanted to talk to me about was Obama. This may not be representative in any way, but this guy did not trust him at all. He is, though, willing to give Obama a chance. For now, he thinks he is okay, but he is not willing to give unconditional support. Can you imagine that? These are a people who are staunchly religious and politically open-minded.....