Wedding Crashers

After an afternoon of exploring Coptic Cairo, Ben and I wandered outside of the Christian cemetery into the back alleyways of an adjacent Muslim neighborhood. As we strolled past trash piles, donkeys and stray dogs, we were suddenly surrounded by a group of kids. “Take our picture!” they begged as they posed around us. “There’s a wedding tonight!” they exclaimed and they grabbed us by the hands and took us to an alley where their entire extended families were dancing in the streets. After dancing with the family members for an hour and snapping about a hundred pictures of all the children, we were invited to come back to the wedding party at 7:00.

We headed back to Dokki to seek refuge from the heat (it was about 105 degrees and 73% humidity on Friday) and stopped by Tahrir Square on the way. In addition to the usual group of protesters and political organizers shouting slogans from megaphones, we also witnessed a man scaling a lamppost while waving an Egyptian flag. While it was a pretty dangerous stunt, it was very powerful to see a giant flag being waved above the square as the man stood precariously balanced atop a street light.

Soon it was time to head back to Masr ‘Adim or Coptic Cairo for the wedding. Not knowing what to expect, as we walked up towards the alleyway the kids we had met earlier that day grabbed our arms and escorted us to the wedding party. We were seated right in the center and Mohamed, a relative of the groom, kept taking pictures of us on his cell phone which he then broadcasted on a TV screen in the center of the celebration. He told us about his work selling aluminum in Libya, gave us each one of his necklaces, and invited us back for lunch on Sunday.

As the night wore on, I soon learned that my role at the wedding celebration would be to dance with every single woman and child in the neighborhood (including the bride!). Women who I had never met before would pull my arms in opposite directions each telling me that it was there turn to dance with me. While it was kind of overwhelming, and I felt pretty out of place being in the center of a wedding party when I didn’t know anyone (and of course being about a foot taller than most of the elderly woman who wanted to dance with me) all in all it was a lot of fun.

Although we stayed at the wedding celebration for about four hours, Ben and I were still pretty unclear about what was going on. The bride spent most of the time just sitting (looking pretty upset) on the edge of the circle of dancing women. We never saw the groom and although we each asked multiple guests where he might be, we received conflicting answers from “he’s right back there” (pointing down the alleyway) to “he has other plans tonight” and “he’s coming later.”

Also, there was a strange combination of women in niqabs on the one hand,  and men drinking beer, and other women dancing very sexually in front of all the men on the other. Concepts of what’s “haram” or “hilal”--- what’s acceptable or forbidden under Islam--- don’t always seem logical from our outsider perspectives. When we left the wedding at 11:00 the food still hadn’t been served, and although we were exhausted from all the dancing, I think the party was really just beginning. We’re planning to go back for lunch on Sunday and to bring the family some of the pictures we took, so maybe we’ll find out more when we return! 

Authoritarian Propaganda by Day, Democratic Revolution by Night

Attending classes alongside Tahrir Square, signs of the continued struggle towards Egyptian democracy are everywhere. Especially in the aftermath of the July 8^th protests, the square has transformed into a tent city and civilian volunteers have set up “tefteesh” or checkpoints to search bags and verify the identification of anyone who passes through. New graffiti and banners proclaiming slogans of the revolution and demands for change crop up daily. Egyptian flags are everywhere and at night impromptu concerts and poetry readings create a festive atmosphere and cut the tension (however temporarily) between various factions.

On the night of July 8^th I ventured down to the square to take in the scene. It’s truly remarkable to see so many individuals holding signs with their political demands and calling out messages through their megaphones. It may be disorganized and chaotic, but that’s the form civil society seems to be taking as Egyptians struggle to take charge of their futures. After years of authoritarian rule, without any democratic infrastructure the road ahead is sure to be rocky. As the parliamentary elections are postponed and the plan for a new constitution remains murky, building a new government will be no easy task. That being said, seeing Egyptians of all ages, political ideologies, and religious beliefs gathering in Tahrir and vying to play a role in the political future of their country is inspiring.

In sharp contrast to the revolution in my backyard, last weekend I visited the October War museum­ that was built with help from the North Korean government and boasts a life size panoramic diorama of the Egyptian “victory” in the 1973 war with Israel, a cartoon like production of toy Egyptian military vehicles routing Israeli forces, and impressive murals of Egyptian military prowess from the time of the pharos forward. Interestingly, even aftermath of the January 25^th revolution, the museum still includes posters of Mubarak and attributes Egyptian military strength to his effective leadership.

Watching school children clap enthusiastically as a plastic Egyptian military destroyed Israeli paper airplanes, I wondered how the chaperones were going to explain Mubarak’s presence in the museum. Educational reform in general is going to be an important part of democracy building in Egypt and it will be interesting to see how the new government chooses to teach the youngest generation about the Revolution and Egyptian history and politics in general in the coming years.

The October War museum is just one symbolic example of the so called “felool al-nizam” or  remnants of the Mubarak regime that persist in the aftermath of the revolution. Figuring out how to eliminate the elements of the regime that are truly obstacles to democratic change while preserving some semblance of political, social, and economic infrastructure will certainly be challenging in the coming weeks, months, and probably even years.

Aside from my night and day experiences of propaganda and revolution, some other happenings include:

1)      Atending a concert in Al- Azhar park featuring an Egyptian soft rock band “Cairoke” and an American “country star” who sang everything from Lady Gaga to Alanis Morrisette. Watching the American signer dance up against a backdrop of beautiful mosques was a little strange culturally, especially when you factor in the Egyptian teenage boys jumping up and down like teenybopper girls at a Miley Cyrus concert. The show ended with a really powerful rendition of “Sout al-Horia,” the anthem of the Egyptian revolution, which seemed particularly poignant on the eve of the July 8^th protests   

2)      Bowling at the ministry of defense’s “International Bowling Center” with a group of Egyptians and Casa Students. I’m not fully sure what the center has to do with the military, although an armed soldier did tell me that I was not allowed to wear my bowling shoes into the bathroom!

3)      Hearing a lecture from the famous Egyptian author and political writer Alaa al-Aswany on literature and democratic change in Egypt

      

The Authority of the Sardines and an Unusual "Snow Day"

While Google Translate can be a very helpful homework tool, some restaurants in Cairo use it a little too liberally. A few days ago during our rather unusual "snow day" caused by violent clashes between the police and protesters in Tahrir Square, I went out to a restaurant right near my apartment with some friends. We quickly noticed some translation problems on the menu, and some of our favorites included "Authority of the Sardines," "Snakes," and "Magic Authority of Papaganog." Among other issues, the fact that the word in Arabic for authority or power "sulta" and salad "salata" are both spelled as سلطة just with different short vowels had clearly created some issues for the restaurant owner.

I think the Uighur (Chinese-ish) restaurant we visited recently had the right idea when they made a picture menu with no words in any language. When we inquired as to the name of a particularly delicious dish, the Uighur waiter replied in broken Arabic that it was called "Chow Mein." Ah, the wonders of food globalization!

In addition to the "Authority of the Sardines," I've witnessed some more serious "authority" problems recently with the outbreak of a new round of clashes between protesters and the police on Tuesday and Wednesday. Although the worst of the violence occurred literally right outside our university, when our classes resumed (surprisingly) the next morning, most traces of the ishtibakat (clashes) had been cleared away. With the exception of some new graffiti and a couple of tents set up in Tahrir Square, there were few remnants of the chaos that had erupted the day before. While  the street cleaners in my neighborhood don't seem to particularly motivated to remove the piles of trash or tree branches littering the sidewalks, downtown street cleaners had been hard at work. By morning all of the tear gas canisters (a lovely little gift from our own government with Made in the USA printed on the sides), bricks,  and Molotov cocktail remains had been swept away. Though the KFC, Pizza Hut, and local Kiosks were mostly closed, life seemed to continue as usual for the most part.

It seems strange that conditions can return to "normal" so quickly, but  I guess that's life in the midst of post revolutionary uncertainty. Egypt's (democratic?) future will likely remain unstable and unknown for a long time, but people must continue to try and support themselves and live their lives. On a personal note, it was bizarre to find myself comparing our "revolution day" to a snow day, but that's really what it was like. As I followed local news sources and Twitter feeds for news of the protests, it was not a far cry from watching the weather channel while tracking a storm, wondering if classes would be canceled. When I found myself disappointed to have classes resume on Thursday (as I hadn't fully prepared for my 2 presentations or quiz) I had to stop and remind myself that having classes meant that calm had been restored in Tahrir. I'm not used to having my homework schedule be determined by changing world events, but that's the reality when your campus is adjacent to the site of one of the largest revolutions in recent history!