Black in Cairo

New City,New Blog

2011-03-19T09:42:00.000-07:00

Hi everyone! Thank you so much for following my adventures in Cairo. I've started a new blog to chronicle my post-grad school life. Please follow my misadventures at http://beachbumchronicles.blogspot.com

As always, your comments and feedback are greatly appreciated! Cya in Miami!!

Finally, Cairo: Where Splendid Things Gleam in The Dust

2010-09-06T22:02:00.000-07:00

One cannot truly reflect on any experience in life without a period of self reflection as well. For better or worse, each time you set foot in an unfamiliar city and embark on a new journey, it changes you in a fundamental way. Cairo was no different. Cairo is firmly epitomized in my mind by the description of Gustave Flaubert as a place of contrast: where splendid things gleam in the dust. It forced me to confront the best and worst of people, my world-view, religion, fundamental needs, and of myself. Throughout blogging in Cairo and discussing my experiences with other people 3 themes became very obvious to me early on and stayed with me until the end:

The experience of travelers vary due to factors that are, at times, beyond their control. While some may downplay the role race, sex, and class have in shaping your experience abroad, I believe that it's integral to discuss these things honestly and openly in order to paint a complete picture of any country. My boyfriend once said to me that, when you are a part of the dominant culture, it doesn't occur to you to consider identity because everything is set up to your benefit. I can see this unconscious omission of the experiences of anyone who is not a Western, white man in most travel guides and blogs about Cairo. Only a few even mention sexual harassment and, when it is mentioned, it is solely from the perspective of white female travelers. When people of colour are mentioned they are either the Orientalized natives, the black African maids for hire, or the poor refugees to pity. Thus, with Black in Cairo, I wanted to bring a different experience to the globetrotters discourse and challenge the status quo. My goal was not to have race, class, and gender relations become the sole focus of any traveler to the point of paranoia but, to discuss these topics as an aspect of traveling and encountering other people to take into consideration wherever you plan to go.

Another thing that I was confronted with while blogging was that discussing racism and sexism from/between people of colour towards other people of colour is still a taboo topic. Often, I received emails, comments, and tweets from people filled with righteous indignation that I "painted" my interactions with Egyptians, especially the men, in a way that they believed to be counterproductive. "There's no point in discussing these things. After all, 'The Man' oppresses us all so why are you complaining?," they'd say. The reality is that the oppressed can easily turn into the oppressor when one whitewashes the lessons of the past and present. People of colour are capable of the same types of xenophobia, racism, and bigotry in the name of religion, nationalism, or self-grandiose that others have perpetuated against us throughout history. Exempting people of colour from conversations on these topics because of their colonial histories, in my view, is paternalistic and offensive. It belies the belief that the societies of African, Asian, Arab, or Latin American countries are not as culturally and socially advanced as their Western counterparts and, thus, can not be held to the standard and expectation of treating all human beings as equal. I was told once to overlook the way I was treated in Cairo because "they" were still a developing country! This is a perception that I reject. Purposeful and systematic intolerance and racism can be perpetuated by any group towards another and all societies should be held equally accountable for it. Attempting to silence someone who speaks out on any injustice they perceive is an attempt to silence their humanity. On the other hand, all human beings are capable of acts of selflessness, unity, and charity regardless of colour, education, or means.

The third circumstance that I had to contend with was the fact that I was living in a police state.The security apparatus in a police state is nothing to take for granted! A lot of my friends and readers asked why I didn't post pictures of me or my friends on my blog. The truth is that I wasn't sure how much I could do or say before 'Big Brother' would come knocking at my door. Although I tried to push the envelope and discuss topics that are usually not touched upon in other Egypt-oriented blogs, there are also a lot of things that I saw/experienced that I did not write about; for example, Cairo's thriving underground gay scene and police brutality at peaceful protests. One of my roommates warned me that bloggers she knew being detained just of mentioning instances of racism in Egypt, something I did quite often. As President Mubarak is perched on the edge of death and the end of his dynasty, the political climate in Egypt is tense. Accounts of police violence and detention for undisclosed crimes against the state were on the rise. Thus, for security concerns, I kept named, photos, and some details off my blog. This was a very tough decision to make. I continuously strove for honesty and integrity while blogging yet I had to make the conscious decision when to omit details or not to write something at all.

In relation to this, while in Cairo, I conducted several interviews with Southern Sudanese refugees on the topic of integrating into Egyptian society. These interviews were also left off my blog in an effort to protect the privacy of the participants. Because I am black and Haitian-American, I was granted access into the community, to a point. During one interview one man confronted me with my own privilege, "You are black like us and you get treated like us but you have an American passport. Me, they'll throw me in jail for nothing but you, you have the blue protection (U.S. passport)." I sat their in silence for a long time, my face beat red, before muttering something incoherently. I had nothing else to add to his honesty. Admittedly, a degree of guilt and solidarity with the African refugees agonizing in Cairo led me to try to reflect as candidly as I could because Egypt is still killing black women, men, and children by the dozens trying to cross the Sinai to apply for asylum in Israel while the world says and does nothing (and I'll stop saying it when they stop doing it). It was a small thing to do to write from my position of privilege.The benefits and security an American passport can provide can supersede the colour of your skin or the amount of money in your bank account. The privilege to carry an American passport is one that I hold dear.

With all that being said, I can truly say that I do not regret my time in Egypt. It was a time of personal growth for me that gave me an opportunity to reshape and rethink my short term and long term goals so that they will better reflect the type of professional, sister, daughter, friend , girlfriend (and, eventually, wife and mother) I aspire to become. During my time in Egypt, I learned the strength and resilience of the human spirit through, not only the many obstacles Egyptians and refugees in Cairo endured just to eat a meal each day, but also my own ability to endure verbal, and on occasions, physical abuse. In a society like that of the U.S. that thrives on instant gratification and anticipated law and order, this may seem like a very small feat. However, considering the fact that the Teabaggers are enjoying their Social Security checks, Medicare and Medicaid, disability checks, and still expect the state and federal government to send police to protect their right to yell at poor people and people of colour about "socialism", navigating daily life in developing nations without the guarantee of security or social services is a testament to the will of the human spirit.

To come to this realization marks a point of personal growth for me. It took a long time for me to be able to say anything positive about Cairo. Initially, the experience left me jaded. I still tense up when men walk behind me. I had an especially difficult time adjusting to having normal interaction with men due to the sexual harassment I experienced in Cairo. While in Cairo, I'd come to a point where I quit my Arabic studies and preferred to willingly comprehend as little of what was constantly directed at me as possible. Ignorance, after all, can be the only semblance of bliss you can achieve. Now, I can look back at my first few weeks in D.C., when I would glare at men who approached me or try to resist the urge to bolt out of taxis, and laugh. I can also reflect on some of the positive aspects of Cairo that I will miss:

The sight of the Pyramids of Giza in the distance. The magnificence of the pyramids can not be overstated. I felt humbled each time I saw them.
The fresh fruits and fruit juice that lined the streets and mixed with all the other scents of the city to create a scent that was uniquely Cairo.
The plethora of cute shoes and purses and a remarkably cheap price. There were so many occasions to shop for, real or perceived, that I could never get enough!
The world class cuisine available in many of Cairo's best restaurants
The low cost of living that allowed me to enjoy an upper class lifestyle with very few financial concerns
The wonderful roommates I had and the great friends I made who truly Godsends throughout my time in Cairo.

Back in America, as the Park 51 mosque + cultural center exposes some of the ugliest aspects of America and challenges us all to evaluate our understanding of our rights and freedoms, I think this provides a perfect climate for a conclusion. The reality is that I went to Cairo with ambitions to "find myself" only to realize that everything I'd ever needed in this world is waiting for me right here at home. While America is far from perfect, it has granted me the freedoms that I so cherish and have come to realize are integral to my happiness. These freedoms should not be commandeered by a few or proclaimed by one group over the other based on religion, race, class, or seniority. America should be a true reflection of democratic ideals before these ideals can spread organically from us to Egypt and other parts of the Middle East. Ultimately, Islam has given us no enemies; gaping poverty and inequality, a lack of access to education, and the denial of a people's underlying humanity have. While we can legislate freedoms, it is a bigger challenge to practice tolerance and acknowledge your own privilege; that is the truest test of any individual and society as a whole.

Of course, I want to thank all of you who gave me the opportunity to share my point of view and experiences. Thank you for reading as I allowed the events to shape this blog; thank you for all your comments. Thank you for voting this blog the Best Travel Blog!!! Most of all, thank you for being a virtual family and support system throughout the humorous, hardening, and hearty experiences. For the time being, I'd like to stay Stateside and cultivate relationships here with my family, friends, and my wonderful, encouraging new boyfriend. As I wrap up my M.A. at American University in D.C. and begin a promising new career path, I'm laying the foundation for my first major career move to Haiti (it's time to make that journey home) within the next 1-2 years. In the meantime, I do have an idea for another blog and I'll let you guys know the moment I get it launched!

In conclusion, my German friend once asked me if it was difficult to often be the first black person or the first Haitian person that people meet in my travels. I thought about the many places I've been and the times people have tried to touch my hair, rub my skin, or take a picture of me. Each time, I took the opportunity to share something about my culture with them, breaking down barriers, challenging stereotypes, and laying the foundation for life-long friendships for that is the truest goal of a globetrotter. When you travel next, take the opportunity to do the same and write about it to share with others!

Update: TIPS FOR FUTURE TRAVELERS IN THE COMMENTS SECTION

BEST TRAVEL BLOG 2010!!!!!!

2010-09-02T11:42:00.000-07:00

I'm so excited to share that, due to you guys who voted and remained loyal readers, BinC was voted the BEST TRAVEL BLOG of 2010! Needless to say, I'm so excited that my first attempt at blogging was so successful! I'm also very humbled to have so many people who enjoyed reading about my Cairo experience and providing me with a virtual support network.

I have returned from Cairo and it's been a whirlwind since I landed in DC. I've started a new job, last semester of my MA, moved out of the apartment I shared with my ex, and a met new man in my life (who also happens to be an avid reader ;), and I had a sweet case of tonsillitis to compliment my busy schedule lol . However, I have been reflecting on my Cairo experience and how I want to conclude and summarize this blog. I'm truly sad to close this chapter in my life but I am excited to consider how I've grown through these experiences. This weekend, I will write the final post of Black in Cairo. Please keep an eye out for it!!

Thank you all once again :)

Egyptian Bureaucracy: The Hospital Edition

2010-08-16T01:17:00.000-07:00

On Thursday morning, I woke up bright and early to go see the gynecologist for my routine annual check-up. I wanted to go to th private, "international" hospital in Maadi instead of a public hospital. I'd ventured into one of the public facilities once to get some blood work done only to have the receptionist call out the name of all the tests I needed over the loud speaker for everyone to hear, call a 2 other people over to read the doctor's note, and call the doctor on the phone and loudly discuss the tests I needed with him to my chagrin...

Needless to say, when I walked into the glass doors (past 4 security gaurds that line the doorway for some odd reason) of Al Salam International Hospital last Wednesday and saw that it was as modern and uninvitingly stark and cold as any hospital in the U.S., I felt confident that this would be a simple and carefree task. My appointment was set for 10 am. At 10:05 am I walked over to the receptionist to check in. He looked up at me and told me dismissively that the doctor wasn't in today and to return to the front desk and schedule another appointment...I asked if any other doctors were available only to be informed that none had shown up to work yet. I guess no one has pressing medical emergencies at the hospital that would require a doctor show up to work on time or at all for that matter.

I rescheduled my appointment for Saturday at 10 a.m. and this time my roommate also scheduled an appointment for the same time. We arrive at 10 a.m. only to be told that the doctor isn't in yet. The waiting areas is pretty deserted so we grab a seat and wait for the doctor.

-10:30 The doctor is still not in
-11:00 The waiting area has gradually filled up and people mill around waiting for the numbers to be called. We are told the doctor will be here in 5 minutes
-11:30 The nurse checks our vitals...still no doctor
-12:00 Guess who shows up to work?! The Doctor!!! He shuffles us both into his office and apologizes profusely for being 2 hours late. He firsts asks my roommate some questions regarding why she's here today. Doctor:Why have you come to visit?
Roomie: I just want a routine pap spear and STD test
Doctor: Why?
Roomie: ...Why?!
Doctor: yes, why do you need this
Roomie: because, I'm sexually active...
Doctor:..Right now!?
Roomie: No, not right now! In general...I'd also like an HIV test
Doctor: Why do you want that? Do you think you've been exposed?!
Roomie: No, in the U.S. it's routine to get one
Doctor:..you know it can have some serious implications...
12:20- We are both checked out separately and he hands us each the slides to take to the lab ourselves. He says he'll be in on Wednesday and Saturday of next week if we want to come and pick up/discuss the lab results.
- We arrive at the lab in the room a few doors down and we're told that we must first take the slides and forms to the lab upstairs then return downstairs so that my roommate can get her blood drawn for the HIV test
-At the upstairs lab, we are told to go back downstairs, get a stamp on our forms at the cashiers desk, then return with the slides and paperwork
-Downstairs, the cashier tells us he doesn't have the stamp and to check the lab on that floor
-Back at the lab, the secretary at the desk tells us to wait as he finishes his phone conversations
-1:00 once the receptionist is done chatting on the phone, he kindly informs us that he doesn't have the stamp and to go to the cashier. We tell him the cashier sent us to him!
-The lab receptionist fetches the cashier who informs him that he has no idea what any of us are talking about
-Suddenly, the receptionist remembers that he actually does have the stamp we need!
- The receptionists computer has decided that now is the perfect time to malfunction. This sets the process of getting the stamp, which I'm now convinced is some type of mystical creature, back another 20 minutes
-We leave the lab and return to find that the receptionist has put our papers under a stack of forms and is busying himself with other matters. he tells us to wait five more minutes.
-Frustrated, my roommate grabs our forms and slams them on his desk, "I've been here since 10 am! I'm not leaving until you give me the stamp!"
-The receptionist barely looks up at her. "5 more minutes, " he says again and the people in the lab are at the audacity of this foreign woman. i, on the other hand, am both bewildered and amused as I stand in the corner and laugh to myself
-1:50 We get the stamp! The slides and forms are delivered to the upstairs lab
-2:00 My roommate has her blood drawn and the day is finally over! We stumble out of the hospital exhausted after the 4 hour battle

I return on Wednesday evening to get my results. I was surprised to find that the doctor was not there! I was told to go up to the lab to pick up my results. After 20 minutes of searching through several logs, asking different technicians if they'd seen my file, and looking through the system, my lab results were found! The technician handed me the file triumphantly. Bemused, I looked over the scientific jargon and the results. Normal, everything's ok. Casually looking at the computer screen, the technician says, loud enough for the entire lab to hear, "You know you have the HIV..." I felt like someone had just kicked me in my stomach! Trying to remain composed, "What?!" "The HIV, it's downstairs in the blood lab." Before my life could flash before my eyes, I realized something, "Wait... I didn't take a blood test!" The technician looks at me then looks back at the screen, "Oh, well, thats not for you. Sorry."
WWWWOOOOOOWWWWW...In utter relief, I just laughed hysterically and left!

In the News:
Stifled, Egypt's Youth Turn to Islamich Fervor
Egypt: Officers Accused of Rape
6 African Migrants Killed near Egypt Border, Sinai
Flying taxis in Egypt
In Cairo, End to Cacophany of Call to Prayer
What the Head Scarf Means when Everyone Wears One

I'll Teach You How to Act in Public!

2010-08-09T13:53:00.000-07:00

On my way to class each day, I pass by an all-girls, private elementary school. Like all private facilities in Cairo, police guards stand outside of the school's gates to monitor who comes in and out. Today, as I walked by, one of the police officers made kissing sounds, spsst, and shouted at me. I ignored him and continued on my way to class.

A few hours later, when class was over and I was walking back to the metro, I saw a few young hijabi girls leaving the gates. Once the same gaurd noticed me, he began making kissing noises and shouting again. That was it! I snapped! How is this little fucker going to protect these girls if he doesn't even respect women! I stopped in my tracks, turned around, and marched towards him. He'd been leaning against a car with a sly grin on his face but when he saw me coming his way, he stumbled to get to his feet and adjust his uniform. I stopped inches from him and demanded in Arabic, "Who's your boss?" He stammered for a while trying to think up a response. The more he stammered, the madder I became, "Who is your fuckin' boss," I asked again, this time in English. Having regained his composure, he pointed at his gun holster and the patch on his arm designating his rank as if to warn me.

I've had about all I can take of Egyptian men! I clenched my fist and asked him again, "Who is YOUR BOSS!" The other guards had walked over by now but they all stood back to see how he would handle the situation. He stood his ground for a few more seconds as a mix of emotions passed over his face, finally he settled on embarrassment and his shoulders stooped. He backed away from me and put his hands up in surrender, "Asfa, Ana asfa." Sorry, I'm sorry. The gaurd closest to him repeated his apology. Recognizing my small victory, I decided to leave it at that. I walked away with my held head high as all the police guards looked down at the ground to avoid making eye contact with me.

Guess who's blog is a finalist for BEST TRAVEL BLOG 2010?!! MINE!!! Thanks everyone for voting for me! please take a moment to vote 1 last time for BLACK IN CAIRO: http://bit.ly/cnMGuT

In The News:
Fighting for Safe passage- A Lesson for Egypt from India

Building Monuments to Nothing

2010-08-05T01:14:00.000-07:00

This bleaching cream high rise stands in the center of Spinney's, the contemporary supermarket inside of City Stars Mall. City Stars is the ritziest mall in Cairo serving an upper-crust clientèle with stores/brands from all around the world.

Tugging At My Heartstrings

2010-08-04T01:16:00.000-07:00

Nothing humbles you quicker than being confronted with your own privilege. As difficult as Egypt has been, the reality is is that it has provided me with one of the few opportunities in my life to break into an upper-class sphere simply because the majority of people around me are so poor. Due to 1) the strength of the U.S dollar 2) the unspoken respect commanded by an American passport and accent 3) and a degree of self-censorship from the prejudices of the masses that I've face, I've been able to maintain a comfortable lifestyle even with the daily inconveniences of Cairo. I've struggled with this privilege and it's inherent elitism throughout my entire time in Egypt. As a child growing up, there were periods when my immigrant family did not even have hot water. Thus, to be unexpectedly catapulted into an upper-crust lifestyle when children beg outside my window has left me trying to reconcile my sucesses, my obligation to my fellow man, the Egyptian gvernment's obligation to its people, and the complacency and creativity of the people.

The other day, I was riding the metro home on the metro when a woman put her child down on the ground next to my feet and started peddling her goods. I was sitting in the corner of the cart and stared down at the bundle in surprise. Often times, metro peddlers will hop from cart to cart selling everything from glue to hairpins for a few pounds. The peddler will throw his/her goods into each persons lap and return to pick up the money for good purchased or the goods that people did not want. This particular woman was dressed in a dirty gallabeyah with a scarf haphazardly wrapped around her hair. Her feet had been blackened by the dirt on the streets and flopped loosely in over-sized slippers as she walked. Beads of sweat mingled with the stray hairs on her forehead as she gathered her goods (hair clips, I believe) and began a sing-songy chant about the quality of the goods she was selling. As she worked her way up and down the aisle, the young girl she'd put down sat stunned for a moment as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. The child could not have been more than a year old and once she realized that she was in a strange place without her mother, she let out a heart-wrenching wail. The mother flinched at the sound of her child's cries but continued to peddle her goods down the cart.

I looked down at the little girl who's face was now smeared with a combination of tears and dirt. Her wails finally subsided into pitiful hiccuped whimpers as if she'd realized that her mother needed to work and wouldn't come back for her until she was done. The girl cowered at my feet and I instantly wanted to save her from the life of hardship and unfairness that surely awaited her. For some reason, I felt guilty that she would not have the best things this world could provide as i took full advantage of the best her country could offer me. I'd seen Egyptian women offer their bottles of water to thirsty people when the heat of the metro became too unbearable on the hot summer days. I was always amazed at the ease in which people shared water and food here without a second thought about germs or disease. I pulled out my bottle of Dasani water, unscrewed the top, and, a little unsure of myself, offered it to the little girl. She took a long drink of the cool water and instantly stopped crying. She smiled at the bottle, unconcerned about the source that provided it to her. Seeing how happy it made her, I handed the bottle to her. As I got off the train, I looked back to see her small arms wrap around the bottle as she hugged it to her chest and quietly waited for her mother to return for her.

In the News:
NY Mosque Near Sept. 11 Site Wins Approval
I Was Attacked and Beaten By an Egyptian! -What black women really have to deal with in Cairo
No blacks in the pool

Pictures from Every Day Egypt

2010-08-02T03:52:00.000-07:00

the overflow from Friday prayer in the park outside the mosque in my neighborhood

It is common to see men stop to pray in what ever space is available. here are some outside a shop

huge homes in the newly built suburbs of New Cairo loom imposing,expensive, empty and uninviting. few people can actually afford to live in this new suburb yet

these old city buses creak along with everybody piled in for the ride!

Often an entire family piles up on 1 motorcycle; always makes me smile

Makeshift fruitstand in the downtown area line every street corner and alley

the juice man in Maadi suburbs! delicious fresh fruits and fruit juice are always in supply in Cairo!

across the Nile from Maadi. almost every builidng in the city maintains it's dull grey, cinder-block colour complemented layers of dusts years old

Inside the woman's cart when its not crowded. Here you can see the women and their children and the variations of burqa and niqab styles Egyptian women where on their head

the metro

Cairo streets are lined with trash everywhere. few trash cans in the city and public trash pick almost

nonexistent. The smell can be ghastly

one of the many neighborhood mosques and black taxi zooms by

the window of Egyptian shoe stores can be both tantalizing and overwhelming

Young boys can often be found doing hard labor to make money

at night, this average neighborhood is transformed into a bustling sooq (market)

Guess who's blog is a finalist for BEST TRAVEL BLOG 2010?!! MINE!!! Thanks everyone for voting for me! please take a moment to vote 1 last time for BLACK IN CAIRO: http://bit.ly/cnMGuT

In the News:

Burka Ban: Why Must I Cast off the Veil

Rockets 'from Egypt' hit Eilat and Jordan

The Plight of Afghan Women: A Disturbing Picture

I Have Given You My Soul, Leave Me My Name

2010-07-30T01:40:00.000-07:00

My name on a necklace. 80LE

‎

In preparation for my return to the U.S., in the upcoming weeks I will be wrapping up this blog. If you have any suggestions for posts you'd be interested in reading or questions or comments about Cairo that you'd like me to address, please feel free to contact me or leave a comment below.

"Don’t be silenced. If you’re talking about your experiences, that’s important – more women/girls of color need to be writing about their experiences in the world. If you’re fighting the good fight and writing about oppressed, marginalized identities, don’t get discouraged when you get blowback, and take a breather if things get too heated."

-Tasha Fierce of http://redvinylshoes.com/blog/

Maadi Suburbs of Cairo

2010-07-28T00:34:00.000-07:00

Roommate listening to the Call to prayer from the mosque outside our balcony

I made the move from Downtown Cairo to the suburbs of Maadi at the beginning of the summer. The degree of harrasment downtown finally reached a level that I couldn't excuse any longer. During my time living there, downtown Cairo felt like an amalgamation of all the worst aspects of human kind were being unsuccessfully suppressed there.

Maadi can sometimes seem like a different world. The area is populated by many expats and foreign families. I stumbled upon Cairo's version of Chinatown here where many Chinese food restaurants, Japanese sushi bars, and Korean BBQ restaurants were sprinkled around the neighborhood of Asian families! Like Zamalek island on the Nile, Maadi is an area meant to cater to foreigners taste as best as Egypt can provide. Metro Market, a completely Western supermarket, sits right off the El Maadi metro stop filled with splurge imports from Fruit Loops to Earl Grey tea. English is widely spoken and understood by those providing service in the stores and shops. Traditional Egyptian stores and markets are also available and well stocked all over Maadi.

McD's drive thru in Maadi

on Rd. 9, One of the many Chinese food restaurants in Maadi

When one first steps foot into Maadi, you assume that the Egyptians who live here are accustomed to foreigners and more open-minded. In reality, you soon realize it's the other way around; it's the foreigners in Maadi who are accustomed to the Egyptians and no longer feel obligated to abide by their social norms. Many foreign families here have private drivers, nannies and maids,and send their children to private school which limit their contact with the locals. They send the maid to do the shopping and have the driver take them to the latest restaurant and pick them up so that hey don't have to bother with taxis or public transportation. Their children are in private school in their national language and don't need to speak Arabic. Their homes here are elaborate fortresses and the dusty old apartment buildings carefully hide the modern lofts inside. Many of the nice villas also come with their own security detail.My current apartment beautifully blends ostentatious crystal chandeliers, hard wood floors,and old world charm. Foreign restaurants shops,and posh cafe's line the streets. It's one of the few parts of town where you will find foreign women, or their Filipino maids, pushing children in strollers and wearing short sleeve shirts with their knees bare. Maadi is comparatively lush compared to other parts of Cairo. Tree lined streets and grassy lots, both a rarity in Cairo, are haphazardly displayed around Maadi with some semblance of urban planning. Maadi is also relatively quiet compared to the rest of the city in which the honking of cars all day and night blocks out the any other sound.

One of the many walled off villas in Maadi

Boys playing soccer outside of my apartment

Maadi has been a welcomed relief from the rest of Cairo but it is not without it's share of nuisances. Many Sudanese woman live in Maadi and the local boys have cultivated ways and means to harass them and anyone they mistake for Sudanese. Thus, I've been known to fire off a barrage of insults on perverts that have gotten to close as they try to proposition me and even had to dump a bottle of water on one teenage boy who wouldn't leave me alone as I waited for the AUC bus. In another incident, My roommate's behind was groped by a passing car as she walked down Road 9 on her way to a restaurant. However, the harrasment here is less frequent than it was downtown, which isn't saying much. At times, the service at local restaurants leaves much to be desired and one can suddenly find that the price of products change drastically when the "foreigner price" is applied. For example, a tailor tried to charge me 140 LE to tailor 2 dresses and a coat when the "Egyptian price" was only 50 LE. I ended up taking it to another tailor who only charged 70LE. Another trade-off to living in Maadi is that it quickly becomes a "bubble". Living downtown, I was forced to speak Arabic almost all the time because so few people could communicate well in English. I've noticed that I practice speaking Arabic a lot less in Maadi which is definitely a downside. Overall, however, Maadi is one of the more pleasant areas in Cairo. The setting is more tranquil and pretty, there are fewer people and less traffic, and one can enjoy some semblance of home as well as the best Egypt has to offer!

In the News:
Redevelopment of Cairo aims to trade chaos for elegance
Why Egyptians don't revolt
PETA in Cairo : Spice up your life, go vegetarian
Wealthy Egyptian business families venture abroad
The Nubian dream: Caught between old and new

One Good Thing About Music, When It Hits You Feel No Pain

2010-07-26T01:56:00.000-07:00

My Microsoft Zune mp3 player took it's millionth and final fatal fall this week (I ditched my Ipod for a Zune last year). When it initially fell, I just picked it up and kept walking, unperturbed. Later on, when I got on the bus and tried to listen to a NPR podcast, the screen read 'unavailable'. I tried another podcast and several songs thereafter and received the same message over and over again! I tried turning it off and then back on only to be met with the 3 most devastating words you can encounter when you're abroad: "Contact Customer Support". I kept walking around the empty house and singing to myself in the absence of music and hoping to resurrect my Zune somehow, "One good thing about music, when it hits you feel no pain..."

In an instant a music collection that spanned 1500+ songs and 5 years, and dozens of podcasts from the NPR to DJ Divsa, was rendered silent. To me, music is as expression of emotions, a reflection of events, and a source of solace or joy. You can always tell how I'm feeling by the type of music I'm listening to at the moment. I had playlists that comforted me during some of the most difficult times in my life, energized me before a night out on the town, motivated me during a workout session at the gym, sang hushed lullabies to me as I slept, provided that necessary bit or romance to set the mood, etc. My music had no regard for genre, age, or language barrier. Most importantly, however, I used my Zune to block out the harrasment on the street in Cairo. It provided the perfect distraction to render the loudest and most ignorant street harasser into a comical pantomime. Sometimes I walked around the city with my music on just to view the contrasting sights through the lyrics of artists like Norah Jones and Immortal Technique.

I realized a few days before my Zune's death that both my roommates would be returning to the U.S. this past weekend. Everyone else I know has left already or is leaving Cairo as fast as they can during the 1st week of August while I'll still be here a few more weeks after that. Although, I was saddened at the thought of being in Cairo (alone), I was surprised to realize it was my Zune's death that really made me feel vulnerable and anxious to leave. It rendered my world silent and in that silence I was reminded of all the things I wanted to block out. Suddenly, I wanted to go home and complete in the U.S. whatever I hadn't already finished here. It seemed to me that there were pressing matters that needed to be attended to and I could only to get my life back in order State-side. After several frantic, spur of the moment calls to Continental Airlines, reassessments of my time table and goals, and lengthy debates with myself, however, I've decided to stay in Cairo the allotted time...unless Continental does find a seat available on an upcoming flight then DUECES . Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name..and they're always glad you came.

On a side note, I want to lend my full support to the activist dedicated to the passing on the Dream Act, a proposed legislation in the U.S. Congress that would offer immigrant students in the U.S. without residency status a conditional permanent residency status and the opportunity to get a college degree. Education is a right, not a privilege.

In the News:
Mubarak TV address calms health fears
Egypt through Western Sunglasses
U.S. upgrades diplomatic ties with Palestinians in a bid to woo Abbas
The Budget Traveller Guide to Sleeping in Airports (not surprised CDG made the top of the Worst Airport list. It's still the worst, most disorganized airport I've ever been in!)
Palestinian jailed for 18 months after consensual sex with an Israeli woman (...Jim Crow, anyone?)

Nominate Black in Cairo for a Black Weblog Award! Contest ends July 25!!!

2010-07-23T03:24:00.000-07:00

Hey guys,

If you love this blog and appreciate its insight, or if you just like looking at the pictures and wondering when I'm coming home, please take a moment to nominate Black in Cairo (http://blackincairo.blogspot.com) for Best Travel Blog and Best New Blog categories using this quick nomination page: https://3eighteenmedia.wufoo.com/forms/2010-black-weblog-awards-nomination-form/ CONTEST ENDS JULY 25TH so don't delay!

Run and tell your friends-all of them- to do so as well :)

Merci! Shukran!

La Bodega Restaurant pt.2

2010-07-23T01:32:00.000-07:00

La Bodega's is still my favourite restaurant in Cairo and has the most prompt and attentive service hands down. A few weeks ago, my roommates mother treated us all to dinner at La Bodega's. This time we got to see the dining area of the restaurant as well as the bar. As usual, the food was spectacular.

In the News:

Awful Arabic Tattoos

Zenfully Yours,

2010-07-22T01:11:00.000-07:00

According to a Japanese legend, two devout young monks were walking down the road when they saw a beautiful and finely dressed young woman standing before a large mud puddle. She explained that she had no way of crossing the water without ruining her garments. The first monk instinctively shied away from female contact, but the second monk immediately picked her up in his arms without a word and carried her safely across the obstacle.

A few hours later the first monk said, in an accusatory tone that betrayed his own fear of the woman and the incident, "How could you have picked up that lady? Don't you know that the rules of our faith strictly forbid us to touch a member of the opposite sex without suffering serious consequences? Aren't you eaten alive with worry over what may happen as a result of this?!" His friend smiled and then replied, "I put that woman down back at the puddle. Are you still carrying her?"

Like the first monk, many of us carry deep fears and worries over unforeseen circumstances and events beyond our control. In truth, some of these fears we picked up many mud puddles ago. As long as we remain mired in anxiety over such situations, we cannot fully hear the inner voice which speaks to us in the present and gives us the strength and guidance to navigate the inevitable trials of life. Thus, in order to tap into the truth of our intuition, we need to release such stress as much as possible...

By following the example of the second monk, we can put the past down and walk on. See your past experiences as teachings that have guided you to this present moment, rather than ties that bind you to inaction. An endless array of opportunities and possibilities to contribute to any situation lie before you. Immerse yourself in this good, and the hurts will have no place left to make their home.

I've been having a stressful few weeks trying to balance a myriad of issues here and back in the States. A friend of mine sent me this fable as a show of support. I liked it so much that I had to share it with you guys. I hope you can reflect on it when you are contemplating difficult situations!

Throw It In the Bag!

2010-07-20T01:08:00.000-07:00

I've slowly discovered new places to shop around Cairo. Currently, many of the sotres in City Star and City Centre malls are having 50% off summer sales. Of course, the Egyptian stores are always cheaper and have a more unique styles but the mall does have a familiar quality that's the same in any country. An HM is an H&M whether its in Cairo or California. Some pics from the City Centre Mall and some of my latest shoe finds:

*I had to take a picture of that Lapland shirt. The irony was priceless

In the News:

The Economist: A Special Report on Egypt

From liberals and feminists, unsettling silence on rending the Muslim veil

Arab autocracy: Thank you and goodbye

Blogger & Bedouin rights activist, jailed without trial since 2007, released

Egyptian blogger and 2 human rights activist to be tried

HOW TO CATCH A CAB IN CAIRO

2010-07-14T01:54:00.000-07:00

Taking a cab in Cairo is always a (mis)adventure. After my first experience with an a**hole cabbie, I've developed a technique for taking cabs based on experience and learning from the experiences of others. There are 3 types of cabs in Cairo: the black and white cabs are the most common. They are usually very old cars, no air condition, and un-metered. Some people prefer the black cabs because you can sometimes haggle for a cheaper price than with the white cabs. The white cabs, which I personally prefer especially when traveling alone, are newer, air conditioned and metered. The least common cabs are the yellow cabs. These cabs are the only cabs that are regulated by dispatchers. I have no sustainable experiences with these kinds of cabs because they are still quite rare. One most request a pick up well in advance to catch these cabs. Here are my basic rules for catching cabs.

RULES FOR TAKING CABS IN CAIRO

Black Taxi:

Keep small coins and bills on you. Cab drivers will always claim not to have change
Always pronounce the name of your destination in Arabic to avoid being taken for a ride
If you are familiar with your destination and the cost of getting their, do not negotiate the price beforehand
If you are not familiar with your destination, ask someone else how much it will cost to get there. When a cab driver pulls up, negotiate your price BEFORE getting into the cab.Often, if a driver doesn't agree with your base price or destination, he'll refuse to take you and drive off. Don't worry, another cab will soon pass since there are literally hundreds of black cabs on the road. Generally, cab rides are more expensive for foreigners and most range from 5LE-10LE.
Most cab doors open on the back passenger side. Women, if it can be avoided, DO NOT sit behind the cab driver or in the front passenger seat
I prefer to avoid talking to the cab drivers. Often, cab drivers will make sexual comments to foreign women or offer you camels in exchange for your hand in marriage....it's best to simply avoid the small talk
Ladies, avoid eye contact in the rearview mirror. This will most likely be misconstrued as an invitation
ALWAYS get out of the cab to pay! Hand the money to the driver from the passenger side door
Quickly scurry away. Most of the people I know have developed a brisk jog to get away from aggressive cab drivers. There is no guarantee that they will not try to get more money out of you or chase you down so its best to get away as soon as possible

White Taxis:

Keep small bill and coins on you at all times
-Like the black cab, pronounce the name of your destination in Arabic and see if the driver will agree to take you there.
Always make sure that the white cab is using his meter. If a white can driver is trying to haggle with you about the price or insisting that his meter is broken, walk away.
Once you're in the cab, KEEP YOUR EYE ON THE METER. White cabs are sometimes easier to deal with because you can avoid haggling over the price; however, they can also try to rip you off by rigging their meters to move incredibly fast. The meter should go 25 piasters for every 0.2 kilometers. If, for any reason, you are suspicious of the meter, have the driver stop, get out, pay the metered price and just catch another cab
Avoid small talk and eye contact as well
ALWAYS get out of the cab to pay! Hand the money to the driver from the passenger side door and quickly get away

In the News:

Wheels of Change: What the Egyptian Ministry of Finance is doing to try to regulate cabs
UN rights chief deplores Egypt’s use of ‘lethal force’ against migrants in Sinai

French parliament approves ban on face veils 336-1

A Word on Islam...

2010-07-12T04:12:00.000-07:00

We've been able to discuss a variety of complex and controversial issues on this blog open-mindedly and curteously. The majority fo comments I recieve only further add to the discussion in a meaningful way. However,an anonymous comment left on one of my older posts has made me realize it's time to have that talk on Islam. I'm not Muslim. Although I am knowledgeable on Islam, I don't claim to be an Islamic scholar or well-versed in the Qur'an or the Hadith. However, even someone with just a superficial recognition of Islam as a monotheistic faith should know that Arab ≠ Muslim ≠ Egyptian. I find it necessary to state the obvious because some may come to the conclusion that Islam is to blame for all the various shortcomings that have crippled Egypt. Personally, I find Islam alone as culpable for the issues that plague Egypt as Catholicism is to blame for drug war-torn Mexico (aren't they devout Catholics?!) and I hope my readers will also look for a deeper understanding of Egypt .

In conversations with older Egyptians, they sight many factors that have led to what Egypt has become today: the millions in aid the U.S. spends annually to bolster the corrupt and repressive regime, the high unemployment rate amongst single young men, and yes, the radicalized Islam being spread by Saudi Arabia. They all say that it didn't used to be like this, 70, 50, even 40 years ago. Amongst other things, these factors have create deep rooted societal issues that the Egyptian people will need to address head on one day. However, focusing on Islam alone as the culprit for issues here or in the broader Middle East is a short-sighted and simplistic tactic to avoid discussing the complexity of issues that one will always encounter when a society struggles to embrace modernity yet still remain true to its own cultural norms.

Whether discussing Christian America's high divorce rate or Muslim Afghanistan becoming a haven for terrorists, religion plays an ever-evolving role in every society but it should never become a scapegoat for the moral decay of its followers Lackluster believers and the strong arming of religious interpretation by corrupt leaders happens in every faith. One doesn't have to look far to see how Christianity has been used to justify some of the worst crimes in humanity or how fanatical Orthodox Jewish settlers have promoted occupation and violence in the name of Judaism. Thus, regardless of what your religious background, let he without sin throw the first stone.

For more information on Islam, please read Suhaib's comment and check out his website.

p.s.- Congratulations to Spain on winning their first World Cup (Ada an Ieisha want me to be nicer to you, so there).

Cuba Cabana

2010-07-09T07:47:00.000-07:00

the outdoor seating area of Cuba Cabana

one of the inside tables

the entrance to the indoor Restaurant

When I recovered from food poisoning, my roommates and I went to Cuba Cabana in Maadi for my first meal! It took me so long to blog about it because, although the decor was nice, the food was simply bland and forgettable. Even the Chicken Ceaser my roommate had managed to be tasteless. The menu was what I imagine Egyptians think Cuban/Hispanic food is with an Egyptian spin. No arroz con pollo in sight but there were tortillas and pasta dishes.On a more positive note, the restaurant itself looked very nice. The outdoor area was designed to look like a lush, tropical paradise with hanging foliage, comfortable wicker chairs and sofas, totem poles, and a small rock formation alongside a small steam in the center. A huge bar claimed one wall and shisha and fruit cocktails were freely dispensed as many of the guest watched the game on the flat screen TV outside. The decor inside contrasted with the Disney-like tropical look on the outside. Inside was decorated in dark purples in the art deco style furniture Egyptian restaurants like to us to signal how hip they are.

Cuba Cabana ★★★ (2 stars for the decor and 1 star for the food)

Address: 28 Rd. 7

Phone Number: 23783300

Area: Maadi

In the News:
African inventors - submit your projects to Makers Faire Africa: http://bit.ly/chrY80

Sufi Dancing

2010-07-06T23:56:00.000-07:00

On Monday night, a group of us went to Islamic Cairo to see the Sufi dance. The dance began with 2 men playing wind instruments in the balcony of the Wikalat Al Ghouri. An assortment of drums, wind instruments, and a singer's heartbreaking cries for forgiveness soon created a deafening array of sound. The dancing began with men in white beating their tambpourines and spinning in circles. Then 1 man in a colourful costume soon entered the stage and spun for almost 30 minutes! 2 others joined him and the display of colour and sound was mesmerizing and dizzying.

According to Wikipedia, Sufi dancing is a physically active meditation which originated among Sufis, and which is still practiced by the Sufi Dervishes of the Mevlevi order. It is a customary dance performed within the worship ceremony, through which dervishes aim to reach the source of all perfection, or kemal. This is sought through abandoning one's nafs, egos or personal desires, by listening to the music, focusing on God, and spinning one's body in repetitive circles, which has been seen as a symbolic imitation of planets in the solay system orbiting the sun.

Name:Wikalat Al Ghouri

Type

Dance & Performance

Address:

Mohamed Abdou St., Off Muezz St., Al Ghoureya

Area:

Islamic Cairo

Shows run Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays from 8:30PM-10PM. ENTRANCE IS FREE!! The box office opens 2 hours before the show and closes once they’ve sold out . We arrived at 7:45pm and there were still seats available.

More information on the Sufi Dance in Cairo available here.

What are YOU Going to Do about Racism?!

2010-07-05T06:46:00.000-07:00

During the week of the U.S. vs Ghana game, there was an air of racial tension in our household. I've mentioned my 2 roommates before, one Somali girl and another American girl of German/Irish descent. My Somali roommate, who'd gone to school in Maine. My other roommate had grown up in a largely homogeneous Mid-Western city.

The night before the match, my Somali roommate and her Kenyan friend visited nearby Restaurant 55.They did not have a reservation and were stopped at the door. Often at nicer establishments in the suburbs of Maadi and Zamalek, there is a bouncer to keep unwanted individuals out. Some places insist on "reservations", even if its just a bar. The bouncer let countless white patrons in without asking them for reservations or I.D. but called the manager to inspect my roommate and her friend as they stood waiting on the side of th entrance. Upon sight of them, the management told her they were full, although she could clearly see that wasn't the case- and turned her away. When I saw her the next day, she was frustrated to the point of tears.

This scenario is one we often deal with in Egyptian establishments, especially in Maadi and Zamalek. Usually it plays out like this: A black person is stopped at the door and made to prove that they have reservations. Even with reservations, management is called to inspect you and your I.D. You'd continue to be hassled for several minutes as the bouncer weighed whether or not you were worthy of entrance, all the while letting white patrons in with a subordinate, Chester cat smile. Your I.D. would be cross referenced to the guest list, hushed phone calls would be made, and then you're cross referenced again. Suddenly after 10-15 minutes, both owner and bouncer would become extremely apologetic for the inconvenience, hand your I.D. back, and lead you to your reserved table. At other times, without "reservations" and sometimes even with them, the establishment would flatly refuse you entry under the guise of being full or some other excuse. Sadly, When we wanted to avoid this hassle, we'd bring a "token" white or Egyptian person along. Unable to justify granting entry to part of the party, the bouncers would reluctantly have to let the entire mixed group in.When my Somali roommate told my other roomie and my roomie's Egyptian friend about what happened, she was met with the apologist proclamation that, "There's no racism in Egypt! I have black friends," from the Egyptian.

To be quite honest, I wish I could say that I met the days events with the poise and grace that comes with a lifetime of dealing with discrimination but, I did not. Unfortunately, there is a hardened cynicism that becomes a coping mechanism when one deals with constant racism from an unlikely source- the poor, largely illiterate people of color in Egypt- or the denial of racisms existance from those who you consider to be your friends. Thus, when my white roommate asked me during the Ghana game if I'd also faced racism here in Egypt and in DC, I dismissively told her that racism was just a fact of life when you were black. Ignoring my tone, she continued to probe and ask questions. Finally, she asked me why I didn't do something about it. I was instantly offended with what I perceived as the privilege in her tone! As if it was my duty to take up the mantel of bringing enlightenment and racial tolerance to the East! "Why don't you do something about it," my Somali roommate and I both demanded. "Well, because I'm white. It doesn't effect me," she said.

Hurt and insulted by her dismissal of our question, I decided she had a voyeuristic curiosity into the challenges black people confronted and she claimed didn't effect her. For the remainder of the evening, I tried to avoid continuing the conversation. That night, I didn't want to educate, elaborate, comfort, and enlighten. I was tired of the world where my self assured, intelligent, and outspoken nature was perceived as being an "angry black woman" and ill-bred bigots felt comfortable enough with their notions to confront me with it daily. Instead of telling her all of this, I did to her what I didn't anyone to do to me. I made assumptions about her based on her background and the way she looked and let the opportunity for an honest racial dialogue pass.

Self righteous in my indignation, I allowed the tension to remain in our house. A few days later, she came in my room and asked to talk. I was still hurt and offended by her comments but I'd promised my friend, Matt, that I would talk to her about these issues when the opportunity arose. Equally, she was offended by my presumption that she was willfully ignorant and that she'd intentionally meant to hurt me. We had an open and honest discussion. I admitted to her that the constant fight to have my humanity recognized had made me callous in the way I'd addressed her that night. I expressed to her how I felt that she was being flippant and dismissive of my experiences as a black person when she'd demanded to know why I didn't do something to confront racism. In turned out that some serious miscommunication had happened. She thought I was referring to a single individual and I assumed she wanted me to educate each and every bigot from here to DC! I asked her if she cold imagine stopping to confront every man who sexually harassed her in the street. The thought alone struck her as dreadful and she could then understand why I didn't feel that every bigot was worth my attention.She apologized for offending me and openly admitted her lack of knowledge and experience in this area. In the end, we embraced each other in a hug and released the burden we'd both been carrying. As Egyptian border police lawfully murder Sudanese refugees-men, women, and babies- on the Sinai border, Islamophobia spreads through Europe, and Arizona and many other U.S. states pass xenophobic immigration laws, the question remains timely and relevant. Regardless of the colour of your skin, What are you going to do about racism?

I refuse to accept the view that mankind is so tragically bound to the starless midnight of racism and war that the bright daybreak of peace and brotherhood can never become a reality... I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word. Martin Luther King, Jr.

My roommates aren't morning people lol

Articles I shared with my roommate on this issue:

The Arab World's Dirty Secret: Racism

Racism Beyond Black and White

Thoughts on Being Called a 'Nappy N*gger' in Post-Racial America

Egyptian Women Fight Harassment

2010-07-02T01:15:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, I was returning home in a cab. As I exited the cab, the driver turned, pretending to open the door for me and tried to reach his hand up my thigh. Furious, I pushed his hand away, cursed him, and quickly left the cab. In the U.S., I would've taken his cab number and filed a report with the cab company and the police. In Egypt, the cabs are not regulated by any company and the police don't take sexual harrasment seriously. In another incident, a police guard outside of a government building paused from reading his Qur'an to make lewd comments at my friend and I as we walked by. Yet another time, I was in an elevator with a man when he tried to lean over and kiss me. I've had so many incidents like these that sexual harrasment in Egypt seems as common as the daily Call to Prayer. Here is a video discussing what Egyptian woman are doing to deal with it:

Cairo Citadel and My Social Anxiety

2010-06-30T01:38:00.000-07:00

From Cairo Citadel

During my semester at AUC, any time one of the foreign women had an issue, our instructors would advise us to get an Egyptian male friend to handle it or take an Egyptian man with you to this or that. No matter how large or how small, there solution was to always have an Egyptian man by your side in order to get the desired results. Initially, to be quite honest, I found this frustrating and sexist. Gradually, I realized the blunt wisdom of this advice. I began to realize how differently my interactions with people were just based on having an Egyptian guy (or just Egyptian-looking guy) along. Suddenly the prices of things would be lower, the customer service would be more attentive and polite, and the sexual harrasment that plagues Cairo would be non-existent! People would still stare and whisper but no one would dare say anything to the Egyptian man's face.

I never imagined there would be a point in my life where I'd gladly want a male escort when I go out but that is the case for Islamic Cairo and many of it's tourist attractions. I refuse to go to places in this area-Khan-el Khalili bazaar, the El-Hussein mosque, the Citadel,etc- alone. Some of the worst harrasment and swindling I've faced in Cairo is from people in low socio-economic classes. Islamic Cairo, with all it's historic attractions, is surrounded by government housing turned into slums and people who make a living off the naivety of tourists. I've wanted to visit the sites since I arrived in Cairo but after my experiences near the El-Hussien Mosque and Al-Azhar Park nearby, I try to avoid the area as much as possible. Thus, when my American male friend and Egyptian male friend, Omar, said they'd be visiting the Citadel, I jumped at the opportunity to tag along and have them act as deterrence to anyone who'd think of harassing me.

The Cairo Citadel (also known as the Muhammed Ali Citadel) is part of the Muqattam hill near in Islmaic Cairo. It was fortified by the Ayyubid ruler Salah al-Din between 1176 and 1183 AD, to protect it from the Crusaders. We arrived at the Citadel at noon on a sizzling 105 degree day. First, we visited the Mohamed Ali mosque in the Citadel. This is the first mosque I've been inside of. The most historic and beautiful mosques in Cairo are in the Islamic Cairo area. We had to remove our shoes before walking into the marble courtyard area. An elaborate marble structure stood in the center of the marble courtyard to provide people with water to wash their hands and feet with before entering the mosque. I was very excited to see the interior! Inside the mosque was decorated in elaborate patterns, rich velvets, marble, and gold. Lamps hung from the ceiling and illuminated the interior.

the domed interior ceiling of the mosque

Behind Muhammad 'Ali's gilded mosque stands the Mosque of al-Nasir Muhammad. This mosque had far less visitors than the first and looked much more subdued. The attendant there desribed for us the workmanship in each distinct column and minaret. The conquering Ottomans carried much of the original interior decoration off to Istanbul, but the space is nevertheless impressive.

After the mosques, we walked towards the palace turned into The Military Museum. I was lagging behind the guys a little and trying to catch up when 2 Egyptian guys approached me, blocking the exit, and making kissing noises and yelling, "Michelle Obama!" I tensed up for a moment and Omar turned around and barked at them in Arabic. The men crept away, making apologetic motions with their hands as I passed through the corridor. At the museum, relics of war planes were positioned in the yard outside of the museum. The decor of the museum was beautiful and ornate. It's what the Egyptian Museum downtown should look like. Elaborate winding marble staircases. rich velvets, and gilded frames lined every surface. Unlike the Egyptian Museum, the artifact in the military Museum were well preserved, polished, and safely displayed behind glass panes. It reminded me of a smaller version of Versailles.The museum highlighted Egyptian military history (and government propaganda). We wandered around the elaborate corridors as my Omar described the historical significance of each war or armed struggle to Egyptian history. It was interesting to hear his perspective on wars we know as the Yom Kippur War and the first Gulf War, for example. I've been to a similar war museum in Seoul, but I'd have to say that the Egyptian Military Museum was much nicer. Altogether, I enjoyed the Citadel, and being accompanied there.

Skinny B*tchin'

2010-06-29T04:00:00.000-07:00

I decided to split the last post into 2 different posts:

From some odd reason, I've promised my roommates that I'll go to the gym with them multiple times a week. A combination of good genes and great jeans has helped me remain an effortless size 2 since I was 15 years old. I'd managed to avoid physically strenuous activities, a.k.a exercise, until one of our houseguest put the fear of fat death into us all. This guest counted calories like Bernie Maddof counted offshore accounts. Intrigued, I would sit across from her, eating anything from shish tawooks to Doritos, watching her carefully pick through her daily meals of salad and non-fat yogurt. I found her obsession with her weight fascinating. She found my lack of effort to maintain my figure maddening. Finally, one day while I'm munching on a chocolate bar and my roommates are getting dressed to go out, she loudly proclaims, "You know, we can't all look like you, Frenchie. Some of us have to work for it! My dad died of a heart attack when I was younger so I'm happy to watch my weight and excercise so I can live longer." Everyone turns to look at me and await my response. There I am, mouthful of chocolate, arm poised to reach for my gummi bears, with everyone staring at me as if I'm that greedy purple kid from Willy Wonka!

What was I supposed to say to that heartfelt plea for pity and slimness?! I definitely was not about to give up my gummi bears to make her feel better... I looked over to my roommate for salvation and she graciously came to my rescue, "We're going to start going to the gym everyday"...Wait- what? What kind of save is that?! Doesn't she know that you don't negotiate with terrorists! Who is this we she speaks of?! Can't we just agree to cook without oil or something that doesn't involve leaving the house when its's 125 degrees outside? Unwilling to refute her statement in front of our house-guest and invite more sob stories and salads though, I've been stuck going to the gym for the past 3 weeks. I've grumbled enough that my roommates don't drag me everyday.

I just wanted you guys to feel my pain.

Update: Sigh, somehow Blogger deleted my entire 6/28 post. I apologize to those who were not able to read it beforehand

Ode to the Porcelain gods...

2010-06-25T01:31:00.000-07:00

I'm pounding on the door, "Jess, I need to use the bathroom!"
"I'm in the shower, can it wait?"
"No, I need to use it NOW"
"Ok, just come in"
"No, you need to get out!"
"oh....OHHH. G*ddammit Frenchie"
(uncontrolled laughter from my other roommate)
I'm hopping from one leg to the other, "Don't make me laugh! please!"
After what feels like an eternity, Jess unlocks the door,dripping wet, and glares at me before bursting into giggles. I run past her and make it to the toilet just in time!

This is how I spent my Wednesday and Thursday, alternating between being curled up in a ball in bed, stomach in knots, and praying to the porcelain gods from both orifices. Ah, food poisoning, it's a right of passage for most travelers. Somehow, I've managed to avoid it for months now. Most people I know succumbed to food poisoning as soon as they arrived in Egypt but I thought I had a system that kept me safe. I didn't eat food from street vendors and always checked the expiration date on everything I purchased. Halas, a shish tawook from my favorite Egyptian fast food restaurant, Kazaz, did it to me...Kazaz, how could you?! I've been a loyal customer for so long and this is how you treat me?! I thought we had something special! I've even bragged about you to my friends. I loved you so much I was willing to share you with others as long as you'd stay in my life! It will never be the same between us...

I called the pharmacy and they delivered some medicine to me. In case you ever need it, the Arabic word for food poisoning is Tassamom...Now, if you'll excuse me, I gotta go!

Update 7/1/2010: Apparently, this sickness is referred to as Pharaoh's Revenge. Mara in Egypt has a great post with advice for dealing with this case of food poisoning in Egypt.

Black Hair Salon in Cairo! BeaBeauty Salon

2010-06-24T01:44:00.000-07:00

I found a salon, Beabeauty, that specializes in weaves, braids, micro-braids, lace-fronts, and perms. Two Cameroonian woman run it from a room in their home. The room has been renovated to resemble a salon- hair dryers, sinks, etc. I made an appointment to get a sew-in weave done and was pleased with the results. The sisters have a large supply of weaves,extension, and perms that you can purchase or you can bring your own. I purchased a pack of 10 inch yacky for 200LE and also paid 250LE for the styling. Several other custmers milled in and out while I was there. A lot of women have asked me for information on salons that specialized in black hair in Cairo. This is the first salon I've found of this nature and I will continue to share more information as I come across it.

Update 7/23/2010: If traveling to Egypt and wanting to keep your hair in braids or weave, bring the hair extensions with you. It's impossible to find weave here. Many of the African women bring weave with them from different countries to sell to clients here but their products are often overpriced and not good quality.

Beabeauty Hair Salon
El Maadi Degla St 232
No. 15 Ground Flr Flat 1
Tel: 02.7545.444
Cell: 011.1106.209, 010-3451.025

In the News:
Kinkosis- An Iranian-American discusses having "black" hair
Change Egyptian Expats Can Believe In
Debating Non-Violent Islam

Hip Hop Connection at El-Sawy Culture Wheel

2010-06-23T01:56:00.000-07:00

I came down hard on rappers the other day but, like most people, I have a love/hate relationship with hip hop. I love the self-assuredness, the resilience, the beats, the brutal honesty, and the lyrical genius that makes itself evident in the art form. On the other hand, I hate the misogyny, the violence, the materialism, and the lack of accountability that plagues mainstream rap. This past Saturday, we attended the Hip Hop Connection concert at the Culture Wheel. The concert was advertised as a spicy musical experiment that counts on the inter-cultural bonds created by common forms of artistic expression. Five Hip Hop groups from four countries across the Euro-Mediterranean exchange their styles and ideas about Hip Hop in search of common grounds. Hip Hop Connection presented the outcome of this experiment in a joined performance. Featuring: Y-Crew (Egypt), Les Gourmets (France), the Berlin Allstars (Germany) and Ayben (Turkey). Hip hop in its purest form spoken in Turkish, French, Arabic, English and German- gotta love it! I was pleasantly surprised by the sheer talent of the performers. Their lyrical talent and energy captivated the crowd even when we didn't understand what they were saying!

Hip-hop lovers in Cairo:

A video clip of Turkish rapper Ayben freestyling to a Busta Rhymes beat...hot fiyyah!

In the News:

Polish Envoy Laments Expatriates Attitude Towards other Civilizations

Unity Through Soccer? Not in the Middle East

Female Genital Mutilation (A significant issue in Egypt and North Africa)

The Globalization of the N-Word

2010-06-21T04:00:00.000-07:00

“If you can control a man’s thinking, you don’t have to worry about his actions. If you can determine what a man thinks you do not have worry about what he will do. If you can make a man believe that he is inferior, you don’t have to compel him to seek an inferior status, he will do so without being told and if you can make a man believe that he is justly an outcast, you don’t have to order him to the back door, he will go to the back door on his own and if there is no back door, the very nature of the man will demand that you build one.”-Carter G. Woodson

I loathe the N-word. It is a verbal manifestation of mental and spiritual oppression that has endured even after the removal of the last vestiges of physical bondage in America. Consequently, imagine my horror when I heard an educated, young Nubian man refer to himself as a n*gga. Certainly, this is not the 'industrial, political, social and religious emancipation’ of the universal negro that Marcus Garvey was referring to! Black intellectuals in the U.S. are scrambling to call themselves any variation of a Nubian King or Queen yet this Nubian is consciously calling himself a n*gga?!...The proliferation of American rap music amongst black and non-black people around the world allowed the N-word to become globalized. With very little consideration for the inherent racial inferiority implied by the word, the complacency of the post-Civil Rights-era black American has allowed this remnant of America's racist past to become an everyday part of the global lexicon and synonymous with black culture.

In 1926, H.W. Fowler wrote in A Dictionary of Modern English Usage that the N-word is “felt as an insult by the person described, and betrays in the speaker, if not deliberate insolence, at least a very arrogant inhumanity". Throughout American history, black people were enslaved, maimed, murdered, raped, and terrorized with the legal support of the U.S. government. Scarcely a few decades after the black community made great strides in overthrowing the most blatant aspects of institutionalized racism in America, this generation champions their freedoms and honor the sacrifices of their forefathers by calling themselves n*ggas. I can already hear the chorus of moans and groans from those who have been conditioned to believe that the N-word is now used as a word of "empowerment" and "endearment" to show how we can "reclaim" our history and identity. This group of apologists maintains that the usage of the N-word in the largely black genre of American rap music and through daily interactions between African Americans has nullified its racist past.

In spite of this claim, one can never separate a word from its connotations, denotations, and historical past. The N-word was established as a word to dehumanize black people and reinforce the idea that to be black is to be ignorant, child-like, and 3/5^th of a human being, if even that. The word became a brand, used as a justification for unspeakable acts of cruelty, injustice, and crimes against humanity throughout America's history. The shock and condemnation amongst the black community towards Michael Richard's (a.k.a Kramer's) racist tirade in 2006 exemplifies how the N-word remains wrought in an unspoken history of pain and shame. Simply dropping the -er and adding an -a belies an ignorance of history and insolent disregard for the social, political, and physical sacrifices of African Americans. Despite arguments in the contrary, there is no self-empowerment in referring to oneself and one's people as a racial slur. By embracing the N-word, we contribute to silencing our ancestors, bolstering racists and neo-Confederate apologists, and white-washing the horrors of American slavery and Jim Crow.

I have been approached with "what's up my n*gga" by the sons of Cuban exiles in Miami, Algerian gangs in Paris, Korean hip-hop heads in Seoul, Sudanese ‘lost boys’ in Cairo, and so many others worldwide. Each time I hear it in my travels; I'm left with a sinking feeling of despair. With no thorough knowledge of U.S. history amongst them, it's very clear where foreigners learned such a phrase. Dr. Martin Kilson of Harvard University describes my reaction as the "typical sensibilities of African-American citizens" to have a “deep dislike for public expression in American media - newspaper, radio, television, magazines, and books - of the epithet n*gger". However, I'd argue that this is a oral Pandora's box of our own doing. Our lack of self-reflection and willingness to embrace a racial slur has allowed superficial rap lyrics and unaccountable, corporate-owned entertainers to shape the worldview of black American culture through the lens of the N-word.

It is impossible to believe that we can actually restrict the N-word for use by "us" and to empower "us". We have no more control over its usage that we have over the use of any other word in the global lexicon. It's now okay for others to use the word because we us it. Thus, instead of continuing the struggle of WEB Dubois, Malcolm X, and Martin Luther King, Jr. to have us viewed as equal to all other men, we have allowed their sacrifices to go unnoticed by this current generation and rendered ourselves nothing more than glorified n*ggas once again. Perhaps this is why Marcus Garvey made the provision that, "I have no desire to take all black people back to Africa; there are blacks who are no good here and will likewise be no good there."

Accordingly, in an article discussing the N-word, H. Lewis Smith reflected that, "After almost 400 years of conditioning, a community of people have become immune to, or accepted, the adverse implications and negative effects the term, and all it encompasses, imposes on their mind state, and ultimately their life’s success." It is detrimental to spread our culture of lack of accountability and introspection to the rest of the world. Worldwide, hip-hop music has become a cultural phenomenon; resistance music. It is the avenue through which those who suffer through unspeakable hardship give voice to their hopes and dreams, champion political activism, and break down barriers. In America, we've bought into the idea that we are n*ggas and allowed corporate-owned artists to brand us as such to the world, selling our legitimacy and history for a price. Let us seek to debunk conventional black apologia for the N-word and demand that those who claim to represent us- from Souljah Boy to Jay-Z and Talib Kweli- expand their vocabulary and refrain from using the word. In our schools and neighborhoods, let's take the time to educate the youth about the true meaning of the word and redefine our communities.

From the Nubian man struggling for equality in his homeland, to the Sudanese 'lost boy' who escaped Sudan and walked across 2 countries to seek refuge, to the young black man in the housing projects of Brooklyn dodging drug dealers and crooked cops to make it to school on time, we are not n*ggas. No, we are the embodiments of the dreams of Malcolm, Huey, and Martin. We are the living testaments to the failure of five-hundred years of colonialism, imperialism, and enslavement to kill our spirits and obliterate our race. We are resilient fortitudes of strength, pride, creativity, and intelligence. We owe it, not only to our forefathers, but to all the people of colour that continue to face genocide, civil war, occupation, rape, imperialism and modern day slavery, to reject the N-word in all its forms. Afrika Bambaataa referred to the members of his 'Zulu Nation' as Kings and Queens in the hopes that they would one day live up to the lofty titles that he bestowed upon them. This is the image of black America that we should portray to the world through our music and seek to emulate

In the News:
How and Why Hip-Hop Has Been Political-but Will that Continue?
Feeling a Little Uneasy These Days (the N-word in South Africa)

World Refugee Day: War Child

2010-06-20T14:37:00.001-07:00

I am a refugee. Under threat of death, my family escaped the Duvalier regime of Haiti in the dead of the night in 1986. It took years of living in fear and exile before we were granted asylum to the U.S. My story is just one of many from refugees worldwide. Today, on UN World Refugee Day, I hope you can take some time and watch the story of Emmanuel Jal, a Sudanese "lost boy" and child soldier turned international hip-hop star and activist. You can find the documentary, War Child, here.

An estimated 2 million people have been killed and million have been displaced by the violence in Sudan. Many Sudanese refugees have come to Cairo, where the UNHCR is located, to seek asylum. Although Sudanese refugees account for sixty-eight percent of Egypt’s refugee population (according to calculations that exclude the Palestinians), little has been done to address this community's needs. The Sudanese are often unable to obtain adequate medical care, education, and legal status in order to pursue employment opportunities.Furthermore, the Sudanese refugees have been subjected to documented cases of police brutality, blatant racism, and lack of access to basic social services.

A briefing on Sudanese refugees in Cairo can be found here.

Lakers-83, Celtics-79...Heartbreak

2010-06-18T10:06:00.000-07:00

I'm going to pause from my usual pontificating to describe my pain at witness the Celtics lose in such a close game during today's NBA Finals. I'd be the first to admit that I'm no die-hard sports fan. I inherited my love for the game of futbol from watching obligatory Sunday afternoon matches on UniVision with my father as a child. I've accepted that being Haitian means I must love futbol like I love freedom. Heck, we can scarcely have one without the other! All I know about basketball, admittedly, I learned from the rants of my ex-boyfriend during the 2009 NBA Playoffs that became his mistress.

With the World Cup underway and all of Cairo covered in World Cup paraphernalia, I've been sucked into the spirit of sportsmanship! When my Celtics-loving friends suggested we stay up to watch the NBA Finals at 4 a.m., I was more than happy to oblige. I crawled out of bed at 3 a.m. and we made our way to Sports, a sports-themed lounge, in Mohandasseen. The place was almost empty at that early morning hour so the staff at Sports was happy to put the game on all the flat screen TV's for us. Surprisingly, Sports did not have a liquor license or a bar but they did have plenty of good food and sheesha. I order hot wings which were surprisingly good. They even had BBQ sauce, a rare condiment in Cairo. The wait-staff was friendly and helpful, consistently asking us if we needed anything and making sure we were comfortable.

My friends and I were outnumbered by the Lakers fans present but we steadfastly held on to our belief that the Celtics would win and our hatred of Kobe (It should be noted that I'm not even certain as to why I dislike Kobe. My ex-boyfriend had conditioned me to equate Kobe with an evil unparalleled. Thus, I unquestionably hold on to the belief that he is b*tcha**ness incarnate). I was just as surprised as my friends to see how I enamored I became with the game. I cheered the Celtics on and argued with the TV about every call the referee's made against the Celtics. I didn't even exhale during the last 1:45 seconds of the game! When the Lakers won, I was crushed. I went home at 8 a.m. with the weight of that loss heavy on my chest and my head hung low...This, this feeling of defeat and hopelessness that comes with watching your team lose, is the reason I am not a sports fanatic. I can't deal with the emotional roller-coaster, the constant threat of heartbreak!
Sigh, now I'm depending on Brazil* to win the World Cup and redeem us!

leaving Sports at 8am

Sports Cafe
37, El Batal Ahmed Abdel Aziz St.
Mohandaseen
3345 8425/8426/8427

SideNote: I'd like to thank all my Twitter followers,blog readers, and those who've commented on my TWiB article for being consistently supportive of me and offering me constructive criticism when necessary. Your comments, questions, and concerns are greatly appreciated and well received!
*Also, thanks to FlyBrother for the link to the documentary on the Brazilian soccer team visiting Haiti! Go Brazil!!!!

Cleopatra ain't Black, Noise in Cairo, and Current Events

2010-06-16T01:42:00.000-07:00

From Essence Blog: Another White Actress to Play Cleopatra- It seems that black folks in the U.S. are quite perturbed that Angelina Jolie has been cast as Cleopatra in the latest story of the queen's life. Debates have been raging all over the web as to why a black actress wasn't cast in the role of the "African" queen (Interestingly enough, when some name actresses they feel are more fit to play Cleopatra, only the name of mixed, light-skinned actresses like Halle Berry and Vanessa Williams come up... So much for our "African" queen)

The notion that Cleopatra was black or African is based on no historical fact or evidence. It goes hand in hand with the attempts at historical revisionism that plagues some Afrocentrics. Cleopatra was of a member of the Ptolemaic dynasty, Macedonian Greeks who colonized Egypt and established themselves as Pharaohs over the people. Cleopatra's father, Ptolemy XII, was of clear Greek descent and her mother is unknown. Although the Ptolemy's were fond of interbreeding to maintain their royal blood, the men did keep concubines of all ethnicities and often raised the children of those unions as their own. A BBC team found that Cleopatra's sister, Arsinoe, was half African and half Greek, likely the child of a concubine. The scientist that made this discovery neglects to identify what he means by "African", treating Africa as a monolith instead of the diverse continent that it truly is. Also, the fact that Arsinoe and Cleopatra were only half-sisters, sharing the same father but not the same mother, was never brought up. Regardless, no evidence has surfaced as to the identity of Cleopatra's mother or her racial mixture, if any. It's possible that her mother was of black Nubian or Egyptian Arab descent and Cleopatra was half African. It's also possible that Obama is a secret Kenyan Muslim and has no real Hawaiian birth certificate. Yet, with no evidence to support this and all depictions Cleopatra from her time contradicting that theory, it is more likely that Cleopatra was Ptolemaic Greek and inbred, as was the practice of the time. Thus, Angelina Jolie is just an accurate depiction of her as anyone else. Throughout history, we have our own black Queens to be proud of, no need to fight over scraps.

Excerpts from 2008 NYT article, A City Where You Can't Hear Yourself :
Noise — outrageous, unceasing, pounding noise — is the unnerving backdrop to a tense time in Egypt, as inflation and low wages have people worried about basic survival, prompting strikes and protests...This is not like London or New York, or even Tehran, another car-clogged Middle Eastern capital. It is literally like living day in and day out with a lawn mower running next to your head, according to scientists with the National Research Center. They spent five years studying noise levels across the city and concluded in a report issued this year that the average noise from 7 a.m. to 10 p.m. is 85 decibels, a bit louder than a freight train 15 feet away, said Mustafa el Sayyid, an engineer who helped carry out the study.

But that 85 decibels, while “clearly unacceptable,” is only the average across the day and across the city. At other locations, it is far worse, he said. In Tahrir Square, or Ramsis Square, or the road leading to the pyramids, the noise often reaches 95 decibels, he said, which is only slightly quieter than standing next to a jackhammer.

Egypt in the News:
NYT: American Man in Limbo on No Fly List
WP: Obama is Too Friendly With Tyrants
AP: Demonstrations rock Cairo after brutal police beating / Protesters detained and released
Racioulisicious (not about Cairo, but related): Black Women, The Streets, Harrasment

Marina, Egypt

2010-06-14T01:24:00.000-07:00

One of my house-guests invited my roommates and I to the private resort town of Marina on Egypt's Mediterranean coast last weekend. Her friend had a family beach house there. My roommates and I jumped at the opportunity to escape Cairo for a Mediterranean getaway only 3 hours away!

When we arrived, Marina seemed to me to be a South Florida suburban community that had been planted in the Egyptian desert. Beyond the high gates and the security checkpoint lay manicured lawns, flower beds, and even a man made private beach! We kicked off our street clothes and changed into our bathing suits, women in bikinis and men in swim trunks, immediately. We were looking forward to the feeling of sun on our skin. Once we trotted over to the man made beach, we were surprised to see that the beach was conservative. The owner of the beachhouse had not thought to tell us that the beach was conservative so we were unprepared to change into anything else. Our barely covered bodies were met with hard stares from the women in burkinis (pictured on the left), curious glances from the children, and jeers and propositions from the men still in their street clothes on the sand. The people watched every move we made as we played in the water or walked along the beach.

Late into the afternoon, my roommates and I left the others on the beach and returned to the beach house to shower. I'd taken a dip in the man-made beach to find that the water was murky and had a strange after taste. When I reached down to grab some of the muddy sand at the bottom, I found my hand covered in black soot! I couldn't wait to wash the unfamiliar water off my body! Once we were done showering, we changed into long sundresses befitting the laid-back vibe we'd imagined the beach town would have. Making sure to cover our bare arms with sweaters or shawls, we began to walk into town for dinner. To my surprise, the private resort town was filled with the same uncouth people that plagued Cairo. Having enough money to afford access to Marina clearly didn't mean one had class. Cars full of young men passing by slowed to make lewd comments at us. Having grown accustomed to the ignorance of Egyptian men, my Somali roommate and I barely glanced at them. After a few kilometers, however, my white roommate snapped and began to meet the insults of the men with a fleet of insults of her of her own, making the situation quite amusing to me and quite possibly worse lol!

Unfortunately, matters only got worse when the men joined us for dinner. Our multicultural group seemed to scandalize the other diners and the wait-staff more than our bikinis had earlier. People openly pointed at us and made disapproving comments as we ate. At one point, I looked up from my conversation to notice a hijabi woman staring at me unabashedly for more than 15 minutes. Later on, I found that the blogger at Life with Maya described a similar experience when she took her adoptive Ethiopian daughter to another resort town in Egypt, Ain Sokna. Frustrated, I leaned over to my friend- a blonde hair, blue eyed all American type- sitting next to me and planted a kiss firmly on his cheek. The hijabi woman leaped out of her seat as if it was her cheek that my cold lips had unexpectedly touched! Scandalized, the gossipy woman walked over to her friend at another table and drew her attention to our table. We all doubled over laughing at her reaction!

That night, we went to the newly built Porto Marina, a huge structure filled with expensive shops, condos, restaurants, a boardwalk, and a venetian river that snaked through the center. Gondola's glided through the river with families contently snuggled inside. I was grateful for the fact that fewer people were out that evening than earlier in the day. We were able to explore the boardwalk and go largely unnoticed. We watched the France vs. Uruguay World Cup game on a flat screen in a coffee shop. The futbol game immediately changed the mood in the coffee shop. Suddenly we were arm in arm with Egyptian fans cheering for our team or booing the other! Audible gasps were heard when the opposing team had the ball. When France or Uruguay scored, fans patted each other on the back and high fived. As the game ended with a tie, we left the coffee shop feeling exhilarated by the sportsmanship and comradery!

May the Hand of a Friend Always Be Near You...-Irish Blessing

2010-06-13T00:23:00.000-07:00

Based on my interactions with Egyptians, I've subconciously categorized them into 2 categories:
Category One includes the poor people on the streets who seemed to have made it their duty to make my daily encounters with them as inconvenient and unpleasant as possible by harassing me, trying to cheat me out of money, making any number of ignorant and bigoted comments, or unabashedly staring me down. The second category is composed of the small, elite AUCians I interact with on the campus or at chic bars and restaurants. This group ensnares the majority of Egypt's wealth and, for the most part, are willfully unaware of the social, economic, and political situation of the country they live in. Most have gone to Western schools in Cairo or lived abroad. This group is more prepared to discuss the latest Hollywood starlet than the upcoming presidential elections in Egypt. When looking for intellectually stimulating discussions, this group is about as abstruse as Perez Hilton.

Thus, like most foreigners in Cairo, I've found myself slowly drifting into an "expat bubble", not wanting to deal with the unabashed superficiality of the elite crowd at all times- but finding myself doing so more often that not- and feeling even less inclined to be bothered by the masses. My Cairo circle of friends is made up of foreigners from various countries in Africa and the West and a select few AUCians. The other night, I asked a group of foreigners to think of a single average Egyptian that they'd consider a friend and, after much discussion and debate, none of us could come up with a single name. I'm very uncomfortable with the inherent elitism that has become my daily life. Usually when I travel, I enjoy walking around and talking to the regular people. In Greece, for example, I learned more about the realities of their financial crisis from talking to unemployed college graduates I met in stores or in cafes than reading the Economist. The Greeks were friendly and gregarious. In Cairo, however, it's a lot more difficult for a foreign woman to wander around striking up a conversation with people for various reasons.

A few months ago, when I'd first joined CouchSurfing.com, I was pulled into a conversation thread about Cairo lead by an Egyptian writer for an up and coming magazine. Last week, she emailed me and asked if I'd like to go out for coffee and continue our discussion in person. She seemed cool and down to earth so I jumped at the opportunity! We met at Costa Coffees, Egypt's equivalent of Starbucks, and immediately hit it off. She had studied at one of the public universities in Cairo and worked in the nonprofit sector to address some of the issues Egyptians face. She was well-read, intelligent, and actively seeking to promote change in her community- my kind of girl!

I asked her for an Egyptians perspective on several things I'd found unfamiliar or perplexing in Cairo. We discussed what I'd perceived as the apathy or complacency of the majority towards the government regime and the corruption in every aspect of life. She explained to me that it was difficult to conceptualize when and where the security apparatus would strike. At times, one could speak negatively about the government, expecting a consequence and nothing would happen. At other times, one could make a seemingly benign comment and suddenly be detained. As an example, she told me about her friend who was detained and tortured for making a derogatory comment about a powerful local business man. It was never clear what would be permitted and what could cost you your few freedoms so most Egyptians preferred not get involved.

We discussed everything from the trash in the streets to Obama's foreign policy towards Israel and the rest of the Middle East. With the flotilla raid debacle fresh in everyone's minds, she was understandably disheartened by what she perceived as a contradiction between Obama's speech in Cairo and his actions in dealing with Israel and the peace process, Afghanistan, Pakistan, and other issues in the region. At the end of our conversation, she lamented how difficult it was for her to make friends with foreigners and break into expat circles. I told her that we had the same issues when trying to make friends with Egyptians! We decided to get a group of our friends together and have the same type if discussion and cultural exchange in the near future. I'm looking forward to it! I think it will be beneficial for the expats to get to know the country through the eyes of its inhabitants and for the Egyptians to see us in a different light as well!

Showing me Love: I'm So excited to share my article on #TWiB, a popular current affairs and opinions site - [Black In Cairo] Afrocentrism in Relation to Egypt Pt. 1 - http://twib.me/4N leave a comment please!

Titus Apologized (take notes Spain)

2010-06-12T08:03:00.000-07:00

I haven't forgiven Spain but I do appreciate a good stand-up act :)

In the News:
Guardian: Samuel Eto'o believes the World Cup in South Africa can help to diminish the racism that has blighted European football

more about "Titus Apologizes for slavery", posted with vodpod

The Color Complex in Cairo

2010-06-09T17:08:00.000-07:00

We have a few guests staying with us this week, one being an Arab girl. Late one night, we- my white American roommate, my Somalian roommate, and I- got in a conversation about boys with her. Typical late night girl talk. When asked about our preferences in men, we all listed an unreasonable, maybe even delusional, list of characteristics. When it was our guest's turn, she thought for a moment and said, "Olive skin"...

The conversation moved on as conversations do but I was struck by the weighted nuances of her very first qualification. In Egypt, and much of the post-colonial world, lighter skin is perceived as a favorable trait signifying everything from education level to social class. Navigating the streets of Cairo, flipping through Egyptian televisions channels or magazines, and talking to Egyptians makes it painfully obvious that the colour-complex is alive and well here. Skin bleaching creams are stocked on the shelfs at every grocery store or pharmacy like beacons of hope. Images of lightened actresses with horrendous bleach blonde hair and coloured-contacts grin back from the pages of magazines and billboards. Those who are not pale enough to fit such a narrow and foreign image of beauty are automatically lightened in photographs and images. I didn't even realize that former Egyptian President Anwar El-Sadat was black/Nubian until a Sudanese friend vehemently pointed it out to me! After doing a little research, I finally found an undoctored picture of him in the library where his dark brown skin shown radiantly, untempered by technology.

In my Egyptian Arabic class last semester, the instructor insisted on teaching us the words for light (white), dark (black), blonde, etc in order to describe people. Black people, can you imagine having a black teacher teach a multicultural class of foreigners the words to describe the complexion of various black people: red-bone, high-yella, etc?! I was quite exasperated by this because, when asked pointedly about the Egyptian's preference for light-skin by a smug blonde, the instructor insisted that no such preference existed. However, both myself and the blonde fired off examples from our interactions with Egyptians that refuted her claim, albeit from opposite perspectives. The otherwise unexceptional blond was regularly pursued by Egyptian men because of her pale features, blue eyes, and natural blond hair. She found herself subjected to everything from unprovoked marriage proposals to unrestrained sexual harassment. The Egyptian men were fascinated and obsessed with her physical manifestations of a Euro-centric standard of beauty that their own women could only achieve through strategic breeding and a careful alignment of recessive genes. On the other hand, the same men who were willing to lap up her bath water, yell samara at me regularly in the Cairo streets. The word is at times sung to draw attention to me as a black woman or hurled viciously at me to deride me as a "darkie". (I have yet to be called abd, slave, a slur reserved for the darkest of Africans but God help the person who ever does call me that) Regardless of the context, I've come to resent the word and those who use it as much as the blond did the ones who invaded her personal space simply because she was ash-ar (blond).

I've found this to be an interesting opportunity to observe how the effects of colonialism continue to manifest itself in people of colour. I've seen Egyptian men ignore drop-dead gorgeous black women or Arab women of a darker complexions to pursue a quaint white woman that wouldn't merit a second glance in the U.S. I shake my head in amusement as Egyptian girls risk being disowned by their fathers just to parade the latest blond hair, blue-eyed (and non-Muslim) foreign exchange student on their arm at AUC. I've watched as family members linger disapprovingly over the face of a darker skinned child and move on to lavish praises on his/her lighter siblings. The darker child was born after midnight dooming them to dark skin, they'll claim. When speaking to Egyptian colleagues about their background, they proudly note a supposed European or Caucasian ancestor to explain their cherished fair complexion but will neglect to mention the obvious African ancestor that gave them their curly hair, wide hips, broad nose, and often times, caffe con leche to caramel-brown complexion. The ancestor that brought them these traits remains locked away in the folds of history as if his descendants were light-skinned mulattoes trying to pass in the U.S. circa 1920.

I'm content and comfortable with the fact that my African sun-kissed complexion excludes me from being any more than an observer and, at times, a scapegoat for the colour complex here. Admittedly when Egyptian men try to explain to me (or, more likely, offer themselves solace) as to why they noticed that I happen to be attractive and black, two phrases always escape their mouths: "You look like an Egyptian" or "You're not really black because..." Meant to be compliments, they only invoke in me a mocking sneer* or a disapproving sigh as I quickly bring the conversation to a close.I have no desire to seek acceptance amongst those who base their image of beauty on people that reject them. I refuse to succumb to colonized minds and will continue to wear this color black until they make something darker. Quite frankly, the black community has enough of it's own issues without me burdening myself with the unnecessary/uninvited ignorance of others...

Update:

I want to make it clear that this is not solely an Egyptian issue, but one that affects people of color worldwide. By raising awareness of the colour complex, I hope we can begin an honest discourse that leads to us loving ourselves and or own innate beauty without comparing it to others.

*ugh, I know I shouldn't sneer b/c it can lead to wrinkles (and wrinkles are not sexy) but the nerve!

The Butcher

2010-06-07T01:23:00.000-07:00

In Cairo, the familiar and the exclusive mix into a steady beat. The melodic honks of outdated cars mingle with the purposeful clunk of donkey hooves. Without a second glance, women in business suits pass old men in galabeya’s relieving themselves in narrow alleys. Dirty street children beg for money in perfect, plaintive English while tourist ruffle through the pockets of their expensive clothes and mumble salutations in comical Arabic. Young men leer and jeer at women, eyes twinkling with mischief as older men spread out their prayer mats in any space available and begin salat. Flies, stray dogs, and ally cats battle for scraps in the piles of trash in the street beside expensive condos and 5 star hotels. Women in burqua's expertly navigated Mercedes Benz's down debilitating streets. A line from Shantaram describes my initial feelings upon first sight of Cairo: “I was a little unnerved by the density of purposes, the carnival of needs and greeds, the sheer intensity of pleading and scheming on the street.”

Unfortunately, surrounded by contrasts, one becomes desensitized to the human condition. The street children, the lewd young men, the pious Muslims, the ghastly poverty all become common and unexceptional. The sights and sound all mesh into a steady melody of daily life. Like someone living in any other big city dweller, I’ve found myself becoming standoffish and abrupt no longer taking time to smile or greet other passersby’s or take notice of the unfamiliar. My steps are purposeful and important. No longer do I have the luxury of staring in astonishment at the contrast around me or to yearn for casual human contact to make sense of the unusual or disconcerting.

A few weeks ago, I met a butcher that and reminded me to stop and enjoy the simple pleasures of life. It was midday when I stepped outside my old downtown apartment to take a few pictures of the regular daily scenes. The butcher across the street had just received a huge leg of an animal I can’t even begin to name. He hung it proudly in his doorway, hoping to lure customers to the otherwise empty shop. From across the street, I snapped a photo of the meat while he was gazing proudly up at it. He looked over at me, smiled and waved. I nodded cooly at him, not wanting to attract unwanted advances, and continued taking pictures.

Eventually, I crossed the street and took more pictures of the neighborhood from different angles. I stood outside of his shop to take a particular photograph and, pudgy and balding, he came outside to watch me. In Arabic, he asked me what I was taking pictures of and why. I pointed to this and that and mumbled a few words. He smiled broadly at my half-hearted response and proceeded to fire off a dazzling array of questions as if we were old friends. Not wanting to be impolite, I tried to answer as best as I could until he far exceeded my Arabic vocabulary. Unperturbed, he returned to a more elementary vocabulary and introduced himself to me and then dragged his young son, Muhammad, outside to greet me. I glanced down at Muhammad, a child no older than 6 or 7 who should have been in school that day instead of helping his father at the shop. At first glance, Muhammad looked like any other street kid- dirty and barefoot, in tattered hand-me-down clothes complemented by a wise beyond his age expression. As I stared at him, he gave me a shy, dimpled smile that made his thoughtful features look radiant. Instinctively, my heart melted. I’d never been much of the unapproachable, big city type anyway...

Watching as Muhammad stole curious glances at my digital camera, his father asked me if I would take a photograph of them. Muhammad’s eyes lit up at this request and I happily obliged. There, on a busy Cairo street, I stopped being so self-absorbed and took a picture of the butcher and his shy son standing next to the meat that would earned their livelihood. I showed Muhammad the picture and he giggled and skipped away to hide shyly behind his father.

Jolly and talkative, the butcher continued to talk to me about his shop and ask me about myself. When I couldn’t understand a question, he would frame it in another way or just ask another. Happy for the company, he didn’t much mind it if I couldn't form a response to his question or if I didn’t quite comprehend what he was saying. On several occasions, he made me laugh with his flurry of language or he would laugh at my quizzical expression as I tried to keep up with what he was saying.

The next day, I went to a film store and printed the photo of Muhammad and his father to give to them as a thank you for just being kind and welcoming towards me. When I presented it to the butcher, he gave me a disarming smile and proceeded to show it to every person in his shop before storing it safely away to give to Muhammad later. Since then, every time I walk by, he shouts my name and waves fervently and I wave back with just as much enthusiasm.

Egypt in the News:

FoxNews Incorrectly Labels Egypt on the Map

2010-06-06T06:00:00.000-07:00

...It's a wonder why the viewers of FauxNews are always so well-informed, globally conscious, and open-minded American citizens. The entertainment network-it really can't be considered fair and balanced news- may want to hire professional geographers next time it discusses issues in the Middle East...

I Got My Herr Did at an Egyptian Salon!

2010-06-05T16:32:00.000-07:00

Yes, you read that correctly! I let a non-black woman do my hair! For those of you who haven't heard, hair is a big deal to black woman. Because our hair texture is so unique, it's difficult to find non-black people that can properly maintain it. Even shampooing black hair can turn terribly wrong and end up in tangles if you don't kno what you're doing! I've been observing the texture of Egyptian womens' hair and the technique they use to straighten it. Like black women, the textures range from tightly coiled, coarse curls to loose waves. Most of the women go to the salon weekly to get their hair flat-ironed straight. A few black female expats have recommended that I try the Egyptian salons instead of my futile battle with the creamy-crack (permanent relaxers). Because all the women I've known who regular visit Egyptian salons have natural, non-chemically processed hair, I was hesitant to take their advice. Relaxed hair is more fragile than hair in its natural state.

This week, my new roommates and I threw a birthday/house-warming party. I am currently 2 months post-relaxer and I've been tying my hair into an ever-lasting ponytail so that I can avoid combing through my thick new growth.Nonetheless, I really wanted to look nice for the party and actually dress up so I spent the entire week whining to my roommates that I didn't know what to do with my hair. My Somalian roommate suggested that I just go to the Egyptians and let them flat iron it. I considered this a last resort for some time until she went to the salon by our apartment and got her hair done. She returned with her naturally curly hair sleek and shiny. Ok, I thought, it worked for her but we don't have the same hair texture. They could still totally screw my hair up...

Finally, the day of our party came and I had no desire to battle my tresses myself so I took a deep breath, said a couple Hail Mary's, and trudged over to the salon nearby. Fatma, the beautician, greeted me with a smile and took me over to the sink to wash and condition my hair. I'd brought my Wave Nouveau moisturizer and I asked her to put it in my hair to serve as heat-protection. She then sat me in front of a mirror and pulled out a rounder brush and a blow dryer. Oh gosh, this is going to be painful, I thought. I'd like to see her get through these thick roots with just that! I braced myself for what I was certain would be an agonizing experience.

To my surprise, it didn't hurt at all! Fatma parted my hair into fours and rolled the rounder brush through each sections as she held the blow dryer to my hair. The technique was what I've come to know as the Dominican Blowout except that the Dominican salons usually precede this process with a rollerset under the hairdryer. After the blow out, she flat ironed my hair to get any remaining curl out. She worked so quickly and efficiently, that I was surprised when we were done. I looked in the mirror and admired the weightless and bouncy feel of my newly straightened hair. I finally exhaled a sigh of relief and smiled! I loved the end-results*!

All Egyptian salons use similar techniques to straighten hair. The cost is about 20-30 LE (approximately $4-6). Although I wouldn't recommend the technique on a regular basis b/c of the harsh effects of direct heat being applied to your hair, it's nice for a special occasion.

*the crimp in my hair is my fault b/c I tried to wrap it to shower later on

Sandstorms!

2010-06-03T23:08:00.000-07:00

On Wednesday, I awoke to the entire city covered in a strange, dull yellow glow. It was my first time experiencing a sandstorm in Cairo! According to TourEgypt, a phenomenon of Egypt's climate is the hot spring wind that blows across the country. The winds, known to Egyptians as the khamsin, usually arrive in April but occasionally occur in March and May. The winds form in small but vigorous low-pressure areas in the Isthmus of Suez and sweep across the northern coast of Africa. Unobstructed by geographical features, the winds reach high velocities and carry great quantities of sand and dust from the deserts. These sandstorms, often accompanied by winds of up to 140 kilometers per hour. I took few pics around my neighborhood of the afternoon sky. These pictures were taken at 3 p.m.:

Dear Spain: You're Racist

2010-06-02T16:36:00.000-07:00

This is an open letter to the Kingdom of Spain:

Dear Spain,

You are racist. There is no need for euphemisms. You have a race issue that needs to be dealt with. It is my understanding that you've heard this plenty of times before in relation to how your fans throw banana peels and make monkey noises at black soccer players and your coaches deride black athletes with racial epithets. The incidents when fans showed up dress in black face and hurled racial taunts at a black Formula 1 racer and your Olympic team believed it was appropriate to take squinty eyed photos to commemorate China hosting the Olympics shows the extent of your racial insensitivity. Even the fact that one of your top models casually said that he would not kiss a black women at the photo shoot on the ever popular America's Next Top Model further exemplifies a deep-rooted societal issue. A simple Google search brought up so many links decrying the racism in Spain towards Africans, Asians, Muslims, and even Hispanics that I truly am saddened, yet not surprised, to add my voice to the chorus of people:

I had the unfortunate experience of coming across six young Spanish men in my recent trip to Mykonos, Greece last week. They behaved in the very same overtly racist and lewd fashion that some may come to assume that the Spanish believe is appropriate behavior. At 4 a.m., they stumbled in drunk to the hostel where I was staying and hurled trash cans and rocks at my door while kicking and screaming like drunken fools. When I opened the door and asked them to quiet down, I was greeted with a giggling chorus of "negra de mierda" and "esclava". I was instantly reminded of the attack on a Ecuadorian girl on the Spanish metro.

Some in Spain have dismissed actions such as the one that I experienced as simple ignorance, not racism. They claim that during 1939 to 1975, while the rest of the Western world was crossing major racial hurdles, Spain was nearly completely cloaked in a shroud of homogeneous isolation due to its dictatorship. However, excuses are tools of the incompetent. This excuse disregards Spain's long history of racial tension and xenophobia. Due to Spain's geographic location and naval accomplishments, the Spanish have a longer history of contact with people of colour than most other European countries except for Portugal:

From 711 to 1492 Spain was under varying degrees of Moorish rule. In 1492, King Philip III signed an order to expel 300,000 Moriscos - or part-Muslims - who had converted from Islam to Christianity. Over the next five years hundreds of the exiles died as they were forced from their homes in Spain to North Africa at the height of the Spanish Inquisition.
Furthermore, during the Inquisition, On July 30 , 1492 the entire Jewish community, some 200,000 people, were expelled from Spain
The official reason given for driving out the Jews was that they encouraged the Marranos to persist in their Jewishness and thus would not allow them to become good Christians.
The tragedy of Spaniard Christopher Columbus' voyage to the New World also began in 1492. After landing in Hispañiola, the enslavement, torture, murder, and extermination of the native Tainos of the West Indies followed quickly on the heels of Columbus and his men. When Columbus arrived at Hispañiola in 1492, there were an estimated 8 million people living on the island .By 1535, the entire native population of Hispañiola was gone. In just 43 years an entire culture had been eliminated

In fact, every island in the Antilles experienced similar purges and rapid decreases in population.
As these indigenous populations were annihilated, the trade of African slaves was introduced, 1501 the Spanish monarchs, Ferdinand and Isabella, granted permission to the colonists of the Caribbean to import African slaves. Between 1454-1518, the first shipment of African-born slaves was sent to the West Indies. It is estimated that 95 percent of the African slaves transported to the New World from the 15th to the 19th century were sent to Latin America and the Caribbean.
In 1521, Ferdinand Magellan, a Portuguese naval captain under the service of Spain, landed in the southern Philippines. Permanent Spanish settlement was finally established in 1565. Abuses by the Spanish government, military and the clergy and the exposition of these excesses by the ilustrados paved the way for a Filipino Revolution.

Spain, after your promulgated the rape, murder and enslavement of millions of Africans and single handedly eradicated and bred-out almost all of the indigenous people of the Americas through Christopher Colombus' steadfast pogrom, the living descendants of the millions you've colonized and oppressed still commemorate this oppression daily though the language we speak, food we eat, and the variations of our skin tones. It is no longer acceptable for you to dismiss blatant acts of racism and xenophobia or over-simplify racism as something perpetuated only by white men covered in white sheets and tattoos. My concern is not about the actions of a few of your nationals in Greece, but for your penchant for deflection without acknowledgement. For years, you've casually accepted acts of racism and perpetuate racially insensitive acts such as the one I experienced even while Spanish history has repeatedly shown the catastrophic consequences of such actions. TIME notes this by saying: "There's a banalization, a permissiveness in the face of racist incidents that worries me more than the incidents themselves. As long as society as a whole continues to see these crimes as insignificant, they're going to recur."

Hence, Spain, I am writing to implore you to make a better effort in acknowledging your colonial past and respecting the living descendants of your gross transgressions, celebrating the rich history and contributions of minorities such as the Moors, Hispanics, and the Jews in your country, and accepting your ever growing immigrant population. I feel obliged to do this because, quite frankly, the quick and direct intervention of the Greek security guards was the only reason those 6 examples of Spanish nationalism weren't made to eat gravel and sing lift 'Every Voice and Sing', the Negro National Anthem. After creating an entire ethnic group of "Hispanics" or "Latinos" through the miscegenation of the Spanish with the very people you now deride publicly, above all else, you owe it to us and the entire world to push forth with measures such as cultural sensitivity courses in the workplace and in schools, a multicultural curriculum in the Spanish education system, and strict laws penalizing verbal and physical assaults and hate crimes based on race and xenophobia. Racism is an issue in Spain and it most be tackled head on by the Spanish people and the government. Spain can and should become a leader amongst European countries in practing tolerance and allowing diversity to flourish in a healthy, multicultural environment.

Sincerely,
Frenchie

It's All Greek to Me!

2010-05-31T10:48:00.000-07:00

TODAY IS MY BIRTHDAY!!! Even if I had the Power http://youtu.be/Zw87vOiB8TE to stay Young Forever http://youtu.be/HehlNEjk7D8, I'd still look forward to my birthday each year! Thanks for all the warm birthday wishes!

I've just returned to Cairo from an amazing Greek vacation. I can't stop raving about how much I loved Greece, the people, the cities, and the beaches! I arrived in Athens on Thursday afternoon. After a recommendation from Fly Brother, I decided to try Couch Surfing for the first 3 nights in Athens with a surfer named Dimitri and had a largely positive experience (more about that later). The day I arrived, the transportation workers in Athens had gone on strike leaving taxi's as the only option into town so I took a cab to Dimitri's' apartment in the center of Athens. After dropping my things off, I immediately went to to Ermou St. for some retail therapy! I shopped until I literally couldn't stand up anymore and had to limp home with all my bags! I felt like I'd been deprived of beautiful things for too long and my vanity took over! I bought so many things I can never wear in Cairo lol.

The first 2 days, I went through a period of culture shock in Athens. My first time riding the Athens metro, without realizing it, I let a few trains go by because my mind was set on only riding the women's cart as I do in Cairo! I also put on a pair of shorts for the first time in months and went outside in Athens. At first, I was a bit self-conscious. I felt like everyone was staring at me so I kept tugging at my shorts when, in reality, no one paid any attention to what I wore. I felt shocked and scandalized by the public display of affection amongst Greek couples holding hands and kissing! I fully expected some old woman in a burqa to pop up and hiss at them. When I saw a group of men approaching, I immediately gave them wide berth or prepared for a confrontation as it goes in Cairo. However, the reality was that most pedestrians paid little attention to me. When men did approach me, it was to compliment me, ask where I was from, or help me find something. The genuine friendliness and welcoming nature of the Greeks was a sharp contrast to how the Caireens treat tourists. It took me a few days to relax and realize that no one was going to try to grope or debase me in public or lure me into a "bazaar". The openness of Greeks reminded me a lot of Haitians in many ways: everyone I met readily discussed the current political and economic situation with me, lambasted the politicians for being corrupt, and recited Greek history like it was their duty to turn me into a compatriot lol. Afterwards they'd insist on inviting me to dinner or out for drinks.

On my second and third day in Athens, I went to the tourists attractions.To my surprise, with a student ID, you could get a pass to go to any 6 tourist attractions in Greece for 6€ total! I visited the Parthenon at the Acropolis first. The Acropolis stands in the center on Athens right above Ermou St. The ruins were well preserved and a Colosseum lay below the Parthenon in the Acropolis. When I arrived at the top of the Parthenon, it began to rain. I sat in the rain gazing at the Parthenon and the city below. Since it rarely rains in Egypt, it had been so long since I'd seen the rain that it felt like a welcomed cleansing experience.

I visited the new museum below the Acropolis, the Temple Olympian Zeus, and the Agora. I wandered through the flea market near the Agora, people watched from the outdoor coffee shops, snooped around charming, narrow streets and chatted with whomever approached me. To my surprise, Athens was extremely diverse: south East Asians, Africans, and Indians were everywhere as well as many other Europeans. On one occasion, I was reading at a coffee shop overlooking the Agora when an merchant approached me selling Senegalese drums. I initilly told him in English that I was not interested in buying a drum but he kept reducing the price. Finally, he'd exhausted his vocabulary in English and apolgized to me in French saying he was from Senegal. My eyes lit up at the oppurtunity to speak French to someone after being confined to just English and Arabic for so long. We spoke for a long time in French and I ended up buyng the darn drum for half its original price of 20€ lol.

After Athens, I took an 8 hour ferry ride to the island of Santorini. Santorini was the original reason I'd decided to take a vacation to Greece. I fell in love with the city after Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 (Yes, I make decisions based on chick flicks. Dont judge me :). When the ship first docked, my first impression was that the island was just a spiraling high waste-land. None of the white-washed houses and blue roofs were visible upon first site! I took the city bus to my hotel in the town of Fira at the top of the island. Fira was more like what I'd pictured Santorini was supposed to be like with small white homes and narrow streets but it was still missing the blue roofs... Finally,I explored the town of Oia-Ia that day where the movie was filmed and most pictures of Santorini are taken. The town was exactly what I'd hoped it would be! It sat high above a cliff with charming white homes with bluedomed roofs against a backdrop of the ocean below. I explored every nook and cranny and I must have taken a dozen pictures from every angle! I was pleasantly surprised by the large number of black couples, mostly from Francophone countries, in Santorini. Unfortunately, I didn't realize how blatantly romantic Oia-Ia would be until I found myself getting misty eyed at the sight of a couple taking their wedding pictures amidst the beautiful scenery.

I spent the second day on the Red Beach on the island. The Red Beach is a beach composed of black and red volcanic rocks, near Akrotiri. Mysteriously enough, my camera, cell phone, laptop and Zune Mp3 batteries all died on this day leaving me with no sense of time or date. I lay on the beach for hours contemplating the different coloured rocks and reading fashion magazines. I spent the next day at the black beaches on Perissa. Unfortunately, this beach was not impressive. The shore line was jagged and the actual beach was just a narrow strip. I returned to Oia-Ia that evening to have dinner and watch the sunset.

I went to Mykonos after 3 days in Santorini. I only ventured into town to buy my return ticket to Athens. Otherwise, I spent the entire 2 days laying on the beach aptly named Paradise and being in awe of how clear and beautiful the water was. At one point, I sat on a cliff above the beach, admiring the natural blues of the water. I noticed several flashes of light from the corner of my eye and looked over to find a group of Asian tourist enthusiastically taking pictures of me in my swimsuit from the bottom of the cliff! Attracted by the buzzing of the group of Asians, other curious tourist soon joined in and snapped pictures of me as they went by. I'm not quite sure who they'd mistaken me for but a group of Canadian girls climbed up and told me they'd assumed I was doing a photo-shoot so they took a quick picture also. Finding no feasible way to have all the people erase my picture from their camera, I pulled my hat low and resigned myself to having my photograph taken lol.

I returned to Athens on the ferry on Saturday afternoon. I spent my last day in Athens hanging out with Dimitri, my Couch Surfing host, and his friends in one of the cities many beautiful parks and enjoying the hospitality of the Greeks. I loved Greece sooo much!! It was exactly the type of vacation I needed to relax after months of the harshness of Cairo. Returning to Cairo, I felt like Persophone going back to Hades and the Underworld.

A slide show with more pictures:

Black in Cairo is in Greece!

2010-05-24T07:18:00.000-07:00

Now that I أتكلم العربية قليلا...I'm in Greece for some R&R!!! You know I have to travel first class just to change the forecast! Don't worry, I bought a round trip ticket so that I wouldn't be tempted to sit on a beach in short-shorts and stuff my face with bacon without being harassed for the rest of the summer! I brought a copy of the Qu'ran and Children of the Alley, a novel by acclaimed Egyptian author Naquib Mahfouz, as leisure reading. Once I'm done with both in English, I plan to (spend the entire summer) rereading them in Arabic. I will also be Couch Surfing for the first time ~~so if I'm not back by my birthday, May 31st, notify the authorities~~ and looking forward to the experience.
There will be some exciting new changes when I come back to Cairo: I'm moving from Downtown to Maadi, a quiet area of Cairo populated by foreign workers and their families! I found an amazing apartment and I will have 2 new roommates. I will definitely miss my old roommates. Their Cairo street-smarts, patience, and dry senses of humor truly helped me navigate so many unfamiliar or difficult situations. 2) I'll begin the research portion of my time abroad before continuing Arabic classes in July. I expect that this will bring a unique set of challenges and achievements.

For the time being, I'd like to leave you with a few photos. The other day, I had the pleasure of accompanying my roommate and her co-workers to her boss's apartment. The apartment had a awe-inspiring view of the pyramids. We watched the sunset and took some amazing pictures:

Some Words of Wisdom

2010-05-21T11:38:00.000-07:00

A Twitter conversation with my friend in China and another in Dubai left me with a few gems to ponder on in regards to black travelers. Although this is a topic I'd like to explore more in depth at a later date, for now here are a few quotables:

JapanNewbie

@FranceinCairo We had a white dude from South Africa here for a while. It was really funny going out with him. "I'm African. He's American."
JapanNewbie It's so bizarre when I tell people I'm American, and they say, "What?? How can you be American!?"#NotManyBlackAmericansAroundHere

I'd like to leave you with the words of Elon James White (who is know following me on Twitter! *swoon*) to reflect on the meaning of blackness, et al.:

Arabic Language Programs in Cairo Part 2

2010-05-20T14:49:00.000-07:00

Before I came to Cairo, I sent an email to the Cairo Scholar listserv to inquire about language schools and asked their opinion about MSA (Foosah or Formal Arabic) vs. Ammayah (Egyptian Arabic or ECA). When considering Arabic studies abroad, the 2 most important decisions you can make are 1) where to study and 2) what type of Arabic to study.

Here are some of the best responses:

Mon, 12/14/09

Welcome to the challenging but rewarding (and never ending) world of Arabic studies! ;)

I think that it's good to study both Ammeyya and Fosha. There are lots of common words in all eastern dialects, so it was relatively easy for me to learn Syrian after having learned a strong basis in Egyptian.

Knowing any Ammiyya will also help you communicate to speakers of other dialects, as Arabs of various dialects tend to use Ammiyya when speaking to each other in non-formal circumstances (or even English or French if they know them). So you can expect most Arabs to understand Egyptian Arabic, although you will understand them less well, unless they are good at talking Egyptian (some can).

Of course, when you advance in your Arabic studies, you really need both since eventually Fosha starts giving you the vocab you need to talk about more complex topics.

With regard to choice of location however, I would highly recommend you NOT study at the AUC new campus unless it is being paid for you. Although quality of instruction is truly excellent, that is only one factor affecting language acquisition. It is extremely isolated from the rest of Cairo (1-2 hours into the desert depending on traffic) which severely limits your time available for studies and interactions with Arabic speakers, and these negatives outweigh, in my opinion, the benefit of the excellent instruction.

I think that AUC actually has some of the best Arabic instructors and programs in the Middle East, and the teaching method, while very American, is decent. Of course, the type of program you do best in depends on the methods you prefer. AUC often gives lots of homework and micromanages your learning, but for some reason this does not always lead to great improvements in proficiency.

If you are paying on your own, I think a better choice in Cairo would be ILI, Kalimat, or DEAC. ILI is the best in quality I believe (I don't know this though since I never studied at ILI or Kalimat), but more expensive than Kalimat. DEAC (cours intensif) sometimes has places available in the spring. However, I've heard that DEAC was a bit disorganized due to administrative changes. ILI is probably the best Arabic institute in Cairo, other than AUC. They have a good curriculum and good materials, for both Fosha and Ammiyya, and it's pretty close to the center of Cairo. I've heard that students at Kalimat aren't so serious, so sometimes the classes aren't very rigorous. do have a program in Alex as well, which I think would be a better location for studies!

Lastly, if you are not tied to Cairo, then I'd recommend considering another place to study. In Cairo, foreigners often fall into a bubble and hang out exclusively with other foreigners. It's not a problem to have some foreign friends, but for some reason, it's hard for many foreigners to make ANY close Egyptian friends (I personally think it's because the city is just so big, as well as cultural reasons), especially ones that will speak Arabic with them.

I think a much better place to study Arabic is Damascus, where costs of instruction (at Damascus Univ, or private tutoring, or even IFEAD) are very affordable, and the environment in general encourages (or requires) you to speak Arabic (even if you are a beginner), and in many instances where you'd speak Arabic in Egypt. Many people studying in Damascus make rapid improvements in proficiency -- I learned more in 1 year in Damascus than 3 years in Cairo.

Although Egyptian is probably a more useful dialect, Levantine Arabic is also well understood throughout the Arab world, and it will better prepare you than Egyptian will to understand dialects of the Gulf, Iraq and other levantine countries. Also, you will probably improve both your fosha and ammiyya more quickly in Damascus, so if you compare your communicative proficiency with Arabs of the eastern dialects (including Egyptian) after one semester in Damascus and one semester in Cairo, I feel it will be higher after studying in Damascus.

You might also consider Yemen, which I've heard is great for studying Fosha. The Ammeyya is closer to Gulf dialects though. You can also probably find teachers that can teach you some Egyptian Arabic there. I think it depends on how culturally open you are (I think Yemen is more of a culture shock)

I expect that others will disagree with my opinions here, which is perfectly acceptable, and these are just my personal opinions based on studying Arabic for 4 years in the Middle East in two countries and at about 7 different language institutes.

Best,

Andy

Mon, 12/14/09

With the help of a good teacher, and thanks to the availability of text-books, grammars, written and audio-visual sources (many things could be found on-line nowadays), MSA could be studied well anywhere in the world. It is not essential (though it might be benefitial) for the learner to be in an Arabic-speaking country. Also, the best "schools" to learn MSA are not necessarily in the Arab world. The student can acquire the rules of the grammar, work on her listening and reading skills and build-up vocabulary according to her needs. In real-life, outside-classroom settings, especially here in Egypt, and except when artificially imposed by the learner due to her inability to communicate in colloquial Arabic, contexts of prolonged, naturally occurring, unprepared conversations in "pure" MSA are, to put it mildly, very difficult to find.

Spoken language, on the other hand, is best learned where it is spoken. As Adam pointed out well, Egyptian Arabic is not a non-written language (look at the billboards, blogs, on-line forums, as well as many books that are these days being published predominantly or exclusively in Egyptian, i.e.Cairene, Arabic). Many text-books introduce the learner to the Arabic script at an early stage, so "illiteracy" is not a necessary outcome. However, since speaking and understanding what you are being told are the main goals, what you learn in the classroom, you can easily practice and expand in your everyday life. Many Egyptians can be very nice and helpful, and your learning experience can be gratifying and a lot of fun.

Once you acquire the basics and start moving around expanding on them, you can start learning MSA as well. Why not? And why not after you have learned the colloquial. If that is the experience of every single Arab in the universe, why would a foreign language learner be any different?! Why would they need to start from the MSA and then later somehow move "down"? If Arabs first acquire one of the dialects as their native tongues, and then later, through their education and religious practice start acquiring MSA, why wouldn't a foreigner attempt at repeating the same experience. (Despite the uneasiness of many Arabs to accept this claim, there are no native speakers of MSA in the sense there are native speakers of standard, literary English, Serbian or Turkish. Everybody learns a dialect first, fusha comes in later).

So, if you are contemplating whether to study both varieties , then I might also align with those who say "go for it". At first, it will be much more difficult than focusing on just one, but it will undeniably have its long-term advantages. If, however, the purpose is to communicate in daily life, then I would need to challenge those who might claim that artificial dialogues placed in contemporary MSA textbooks for the sole purpose of modelling them according to similar language instruction material for English, German, or French, would get the learner very far. In that case, as I said in my first, short, post, you should go for Egyptian Arabic.

best,

Ivan

Mon, 12/14/09

My main motivation has to learn to speak with people in informal settings, and this is still pretty much my goal. But even so, I think studying some Fosha has helped that.

Actually, I think probably a best strategy for most people would involve initial study of Ammeyya exclusively for several months, and then beginning MSA and continuing the two in parallel for some time until the learner decides which one is needed more for his or her interests.

I think starting both at once is a bit overwhelming for students, who inevitably get confused by similar but slightly different vocab and grammatical rules (especially with dual, numbers, female plural adjectives, verb conjucations). At least learning one first, you can then "convert" it to the other. And I think the best one to learn first is Ammeyya, since for it will allow the student to advanced more quickly since they can practice it more easily with Arab speakers, and this gives them a better basis to then later "convert" from.

However, waiting too long before starting Fosha can impede overall learning as well, as was in my case. The materials in Ammeyya simply aren't as good and are limited. For example, it's difficult to improve your vocabulary on more advanced topics using Ammeyya materials. Also, studying Fosha gives you access to tons of well written materials and you can get that ever useful feedback through the exercises of reading and writing. Ammeyya study tends to involve listening and speaking, and I feel I learn a lot from reading and writing.

Later on in studies, students will have a better idea what they want to concentrate on.... but for a foundation, I think that Ammeyya-only first, then both is a better strategy. BTW, some universities in the states are using Ammeyya-only first now, rather than the traditional Fosha-only first that was most common before.

best,

Andy

Tues, May, 18, 10

I just finished the ALI program this year at the High Intermediate level. For what it is worth, it is where the US diplomats study Arabic. I can't address the cost for you because the US taxpayer footed the bill. I think around 10K/semester.

That said, I thought it was a top notch program. The professors are well...professors. Real education professionals. A lot of language tutors think they can teach a language because they know it--not necessarily true.

It is a university program so it is academic which you may not like. It will teach you a high level of MSA. I liked that because I think it is easier to rachet down a notch when you want to then find yourself in a situation where you need a more formal Arabic.

From my perspective, I am glad I didn't take ammeya. I think studying ammeya at the same time as MSA is distracting. I am starting to learn ammeya now and it is easier because I understand it's derivation and I can speak at the level the situation calls for.

How you study and where you study depends heavily on what you are going to use your Arabic for. I plan to work in the entire region and I work in a lot of formal situations.

Deborah

Arabic Language Programs in Cairo Part 1

2010-05-20T01:41:00.000-07:00

When considering Arabic studies abroad, the 2 most important decisions you can make are 1) where to study and 2) what type of Arabic to study. Now that my semester at the American University in Cairo's Arabic Language Institute (ALI)- which I've unaffectionately referred to as Arabic Gitmo in past posts- is complete, I want to write a review of the program and discuss language schools in another 2 part post:

ALI is truly intensive and the teachers are great. The method of teaching is heavily focused on interactive group work and homework (an average of hours per night). Classes are times a week (Sunday-Thursday), 9:30- 3:30. In addition, I had an optional 2 hours of tutoring and 1 hour with my language partner each week. i went from being unable to distinguish one squiggly line from another to being able to read, write, conjugate my verbs, and hold an elementary level conversation in Arabic.

Unfortunately, ALI's association with AUC is the biggest downside to the program. The new, elite AUC campus is also 1-2 hrs into the desert- the campus is surrounded by nothing but sand and newly built, empty residential mansions. To have an Arabic program in an American bubble in the middle of the desert is counterproductive. Buses transport students from designated stops in Cairo to the New Cairo campus. Sometimes the bus will be at its designated stop, other times no bus is to be found. Despite the alleged bus schedule on the website, the bus adheres to no comprehensible schedule and leave and arrive at the whims of the driver. Cairo traffic and the nonexistent campus bus schedule makes the commute aggravating. By the time I get home each night, I'm exhausted and I only have time to study before falling asleep, no socializing w/ Egyptians, or oral practice for me. Cairo traffic and the nonexistent campus bus schedule makes the commute aggravating.

In my experiences, the campus staff is incompetent beyond belief. Nothing gets done without a series of threatening emails CC'ed to everyone short of President Mubarak and hours of negotiations with confused flunkies. AUC takes every opportunity to nickel and dime it's students. Students are asked to pay a series of fees, tuition, and send in a passport photo and fill out the visa form before arriving in Cairo. When you arrive, however, you are still required to pay staggering $300 for a semester bus pass (literally a gold sticker) or 20LE each way. Unlike other study abroad institutions, AUC doesn't bother to have student visa's ready upon arrival either. I still had to pay 64LE and fill out the visa form 3 times because the office continuously lost the original. Most student's didn't receive their visas until Spring Break, leaving many of us illegally in he country for a significant period of time.

In addition, the caliber of students in my class was lacking, to the say the least. I expected that ALI would only allow serious and dedicated people into an intensive Arabic course. Instead, I was stuck w/ whiny undergrads on their first semester study abroad experience (i.e., the kind that are still in the stages of their life where they define a good time abroad by the number of number of random hook-ups and the amount of hangovers they've nursed while in class). This has made class time nothing short of painful and redundant.

I am currently considering the International Language Institute (ILI) for the summer. ILI is the favored language program for British diplomats. It is known for having a higher caliber of students and a more focused curriculum than ALI. It is also significantly cheaper than ALI. Insha'allah, ILI will live up to its reputation. I completed intensive courses in both ECA and MSA this semester.MSA was significantly more difficult than ECA because it'ss so formal, has more pronouns, and more tenses. Studying both ECA and MSA simultaneously was challenging. anytine I focused one one, the other suffered. In the future, I'm considering focusing only on MSA now that I have a comfortable basis in ECA to navigate daily life. In my opinion, MSA will be more transferable to different countries and is required for the type of formal, top level work I may be interested pursuing in the future.

In this regard, I'd like to revisit some of the most relevant advice and comments on Arabic programs I received from Cairo Scholar in the next post. I hopes that it will assist others in choosing an Arabic program in the future!

If I Was Your Man Part 2

2010-05-19T01:47:00.000-07:00

My next date was with an overseas pro-basketball player. I typically don't date athletes, rappers, or anyone that still dresses/aspires to be either of the two. I'm not interested in the lifestyle these men usually lead and I'm not the type of girl that considers becoming one of the Basketball Wives a good career move. Growing up in Miami and then attending an NCAA football university exposed me to more athletes than necessary. The first things they'd say were usually the same: "I play ball" or "I just got signed to...". At this point, they'd expect my panties to drop-the typical reaction such a soul stirring revelation prompted in the ladies. Instead, I'd either lecture them on the realities of being a forty million dollar slave or promptly turn and walk away, or a combination of both.

Because I'm not necessarily looking to wife someone up so soon after my last serious relationship though, I decided to have fun and go out with this guy. We'll call him K. Besides, K's pick up line was, " You're sooo beautiful. Are you married?" LOL, what can I say, I'm a sap for corny guys.

K, an African American guy from Chicago, had been signed after college to play pro-basketball for the Arab League. He played in Iran, Syria, and now in Israel. He was in Cairo for the week signing a new contract to play in Egypt for the next 2 years. At a nicely sculpted 6"8, K easily towered over me and wasn't bad on the eye. He was dressed casually in jeans and a polo and, thankfully, no bling in sight. We met downtown and took a cab to Cairo Jazz Club. Cairo Jazz was small but nice with a dark wood and burgundy decor and a hip, young crowd to match. We sat at the bar and ordered drinks. The drink menu was considerably over-priced by Cairo standards (300LE jugs and 100 LE shots). To my surprise, K was genuinely sweet and down to earth. He opened doors, paid for the cab and our drinks, and not once did he mention his salary to me. Unlike other ball players I've met, K only mentioned his job when I asked him questions about it. As we got to know each other better through the regular first date questions, K asked me about the origins of my name. When I told him that I am Haitian, he reacted with, "Man, you Haitian girls are crazy! I've heard about ya'll." Darnit, even as far as Israel our reputation precedes us...sigh

I've heard many variations of this comment but, in my experiences, the end results are always the same so I quietly waited for K to process this new piece of information. One comedian at The Improv in Coral Gables, FL did an entire routine on his Haitian girlfriend. He said he'd somehow found himself telling her he loved her after just a week and every time he even thought of leaving her, a falling tree would barely miss his path or something. Alternatively, in undergrad, a girl who I thought was my friend was rumored to have had relations with a guy I was dating off and on. When I initially confronted her, she flat out denied it. Months later, when she became pregnant and I confronted her again, her excuse for not telling me the truth initially was: "I was scared of how you'd react cuz you know you're Haitian and all". It's worth noting that, the skank was a clear foot taller than I am and had served in Desert Storm. She also pointedly mentioned that her concern for her baby now being her top priority.

Then there is my ex's friend in the Navy reserves. When he found out I was Haitian, the buff soldier warned my Texan ex-boyfriend to to run for the hills, "They don't fear anything because they have nothing to lose. She won't be afraid to cut you if you piss her off, man! I can't deal with them... that's just too much pressure." My ex laughed it off but I noticed that any time I happened to be angry at him and cooking dinner, he'd wander into the kitchen more often than usual to casually observe what I was putting into the pot...I believe this perception is a result of general cultural misunderstandings and clashes between Haitians and other minorities in big cities. Needless to say, the alleged "craziness" of Haitian women has never deterred men from pursuing us. Not once has a guy walked away from me or stopped calling me because of it. As a matter of fact, I think some guys are turned on by it.

K, looked at me thoughtfully for a moment before saying, "I'm sure you're not crazy." He smiled and I simply smiled back reassuringly before changing the subject.

After a while, the music at Cairo Jazz became loud and unbearable. It was an unruly mash-up of funk, Motown, and pop- a drag queens dream but not conducive to a first date. K and I left and headed to one of the outdoor coffee shops downtown. The coffee shops downton were a sharp cntrast fromthe plush setting of Cairo Jazz. While Cairo Jazz was decked out in art deco furnishing and filled with a crowd of Cairo's privileged class, the quaint outdoor coffee shops on pedestrian streets downtown were lined with mix-matched chairs and folding tables. Working class men discussed the days events over tea and shisha.

We chatted about home, the places we've been, and some of our goals. He told me that his last relationship ended with the girl going Jasmin Sullivan on his car (no, she wasn't Haitian lol). Assuming he'd done something to provoke her behavior, I made a mental note of that information. Altogether, It wasn't a deep conversation but a comfortable and relaxed chat. Later on, K found himself unable to get home because one of his teammates had taken the room key and gone off to the club. I offered him my couch until his roommate got in contact with him. We ended up cuddling and talking late into the night. Once his teammates finally called him back, K left my apartment to take a cab home. A few minutes after he exited, I heard a knock on the door. He walked in and gave me a goodnight kiss on the cheek before he went home.

K returned to Israel the next morning but promised to keep in touch.

Also, a Happy Birthday to the late El-Hajj Malik El-Shabazz, better known as Bro. Malcolm X!

Cairo Jazz Club. 197, 26th July str, Agouza. Tel: 202-3459939

Happy Haitian Flag Day from Cairo!

2010-05-18T02:48:00.000-07:00

Today is Haitian Flag Day!! Haitian's everywhere will be displaying their flags at any venue possible or wearing them as decoration! Parades and parties will line the streets from Port-au-Prince to Little Haiti, Miami to Flat Bush, NYC. 5 months after the devastating quake, the Haitian flag continues to be a symbol of pride and resilience for Haitians in Haiti and abroad. I hung my flag from my balcony and it's been a great conversation piece for my neighbors all morning. As of right now, I may be the only Haitian in Cairo. There was another young lady here working for AP but she left after the quake to cover the news in Haiti so I have to hold it down on my own.

The Haitian flag was famously created when revolutionary leader Jean-Jacques Dessalines ripped the white portion from a French Flag and united the blue and red to symbolize the union between the black and mulatto rebels against the French colonial army. For more on the Haitian flag's history and it's transitions, please visit this site: http://www.haitiantreasures.com/HT_haitian_flag.day1.htm

Ayiti pap jem mouri (Haiti will never die).

If I Was Your Man Part 1

2010-05-18T01:17:00.000-07:00

I have a confession to make! I've been holding something back from you guys: I've started dating again! Initially, it felt strange to be out with anyone other than my ex but I'm now at the point where I'm ready to jump back in to the casual dating scene. Living abroad, returning to the dating scene can prove overwhelming and/or challenging depending on where you live. Sometimes one must tweak your partner-preferences to what is realistically available.

Of course, I can't discuss black women (and black men) dating abroad without the topic of interracial (and inter-ethnic) darting coming up. The black expat community is small and, in some places, non-existent. Thus, if mingling with the locals is not an appealing option, realistically, that only leaves you with the largely white expat community in most foreign countries in which to find a partner. Although my parents raised me with a strong sense of black nationalism, they made no pretenses about adhering to simplistic notions of racially purity. I've always been free to date whomever I liked in melting pot Miami. Some may find a contradiction in this statement. However, I've always upheld that my blackness is not defined by the pigmentation of my partner. Personally, I have no issues with interracial dating and refuse to define my relationships- or anyone else's- based on race or complexion. I love black men but I am not the type to pass on a good man just because he isn't black.

Understandably, some black women may fear being rejected by non-black men but most black globetrotters will tell you that you get more play just for being black abroad than you know what to do with! It's like Mike Jones said:They used to love to me diss me, now they rush to hug and kiss me now

They telling all they friends when I leave how they miss me now

Because of the popularity of black athletes, entertainers, and music, black people are assumed to be hyper-sex(y)(ual) and hyper-talented. I've found these perceptions to be a double edged sword. On one hand, it can lead to unprovoked flattery and admiration. In Rome, for example, I couldn't go anywhere without Italian men confessing their undying love and asking for my hand in marriage. When a group of Korean students visiting DC and met my ex-boyfriend and I, I had to keep my ex away from the giggling, fawning women. They wanted to know all about him, what sports he played, and asked if he could teach them some dance moves. Unfortunately for them, although he towered over them, my ex was only a Capitol Hill staffer with no incredible moves on the dance floor or the basketball court.

On the other hand, these perceptions can lead to negative stereotypes and fetishes. While black people can be seen as more sexually and physically appealing and talented, we are not necessarily considered to be equally as intelligent as other races. One of my classmates, for example, always assumes I want to break out in dance but was surprised to learn that I've seen many Shakespeare plays and enjoyed classical literature. "I thought black people don't do Shakespeare", she said. My friend's cousin, an educated black woman studying in Israel, complains that she is routinely asked if she can make her "ass clap" and other moves made popular by rap video...vixens. The bottom line is that just because someone is willing to sleep with you, does not mean they value you as a human being. Even avid racists like Strom Thurmond and Thomas Jefferson had black mistresses and children. It's important not to mistake a fetish for affection. Consequently, both abroad and in the U.S., I've learned to filter out men who simply have "jungle fever" fantasies and no real attraction to me beyond what women of my race are purportedly skilled at and others who are genuinely interested in me as a person.

With that being said, now on to my 1st date: My very first date as a newly single woman was about a month ago... and a complete a dud. The guy, who we'll call A, was the son of a Libyan diplomat. I'd met A at a gathering at L'Aubergines. He had dark hair pulled back into a pony tail and big brown eyes. He took me horseback riding at the outskirts of the pyramids of Giza. A arrived for our date slightly tipsy and several hours late. He'd blown all his money at the bar and asked me to put in for gas and for the horseback ride (strike one). On the way to Giza, his car suddenly sputtered and overheated! WE had to pull over to the side of the road and wait until it cooled off. Trying to be understanding, I didn't hold this against him. After all, it is hot in Cairo...

When we arrived at the stables, I reminded A that I'd never ridden any horse short of a Ferrari or a Mustang. Instead of helping me along, he rode ahead much of the time, leaving me in on the dark path with the guide (strike two). The guide kept trying to cop a feel under the pretenses of helping me ride the horse. By the time we got to the top, I was so annoyed with having to continuously push his hand away while trying to maneuver the wild animal (the horse, not the guide) that I barely glanced at the midnight view of the pyramids and Cairo lit up below.

The way back down was much of the same as A galloped ahead of me and barely glanced back. When we got back in the car, it was almost 2 am and I told A I hungry and cold. A asked what I wanted to eat and, giving him a chance to redeem himself, I said pizza. Blasting heavy metal music the whole way (Heavy metal, that has to be another 3 strikes)and making conversation i mpossible, he finally pulled up to Pizza King in Mohandissen and stopped the car. I looked over at him to see what we were going to do next and he had the nerve to tell me to go buy the pizza while he waited in the car (strike six). When I got back in the car, he had the audacity to try to reach over and grab a slice of the pizza he didn't pay for or labor to get! I was done after that! When I wasn't cursing the date gods, I spent a significant part of the evening thinking ,"Ex would never do that" or "Ex always did this or that because it's the gentlemanly thing to do"...ugh! I asked him to take me home where I shared my pizza with my roommates. Needless to say, I don't bother answering his phone calls.

Be on the look out for part 2 tomorrow. To be continued....

Dressing Modestly...or else

2010-05-17T01:55:00.000-07:00

Certain women come to Cairo, and the larger Middle East, and fancy that whatever feminist mantra they abide by and however many bras they've burned in college exclude them from abiding by the cultural norms for women here. While, theoretically, one should have the right to freely and comfortably wear what she pleases, the idea that your mini-skirt will be the sudden breath of "enlightenment" that Muslim women need to rip off there hijabs is just as paternalistic and antagonistic as the chauvinist practices you reject and criticize.

Since the beginning of the semester, one of my classmates, a very blonde girl from Indiana, has refused to conform to some of the societal norms that the rest of us have grown accustomed to in order to avoid being harassed as much as possible. Calling herself a feminist, she refused to acknowledge that she could not behave in the same care-free, privileged manner here that she does in Indiana. Although her blonde hair and pale features already made her the favored target of Egyptian men, she routinely walked around Cairo in low cut shirts that exposed her bra, short skirts, and see-thru white pants, leaving very little to the imagination and attracting further attention to herself. She also refused to ride the women's cart on the metro, preferring to stand in the men's cart-a virtual meat market- allowing men the opportunity to "accidentally" brush up against her exposed breasts or grab her crotch through her see-thru pants.
Unfortunately, last Monday morning, the consequences of her actions became painfully obvious. A man, who probably watched her take the same daily route downtown to the school bus, followed her. He grabbed her, dragged her into an alley, and ripped off her top. The man forcefully pinned her to the wall as he kissed her neck and grinded on her. She was lucky enough that some passers-by heard her screams and came to her rescue. The incident left her traumatized and understandably shaken up. First, it's important for me to say that there is no excuse for attempted rape or assault. Regardless of what a woman is wearing, a man should never force himself upon her. However, with that being said, put some freakin' clothes on ladies!! While one can never completely prevent harassment in Cairo, you can at least reduce the likelihood of harassment and assault by covering up as much as possible and adhering to social norms.

I understand that many women misunderstand the meaning of dressing modestly in Cairo. I, too, was confused by what it meant and how much I'd be required to put on in the desert heat. Here are the basics:

· - Neighborhoods that can be considered conservative are Islamic Cairo, Ain Shems, and even Downtown Cairo, for example. In more conservative neighborhoods or in mosques, you must cover your hair, arms and legs at all times
- In the rest of the city, skirts should be knee-length at the very least. No low cut shirts but short sleeve shirts are acceptable. There is no issue with women wearing pants and jeans. Covering your hair is optional as not all Egyptian women do it. Loose-fitting clothes that do not accentuate your figure are the best choice when in public.

· - In neighborhoods that are largely populated by expats, women have a little more flexibility with their wardrobe. There is a notable difference in what people living in suburbs like Maadi and Zamalek, for example. There, you will see the occasional pair of shorts and strapless summer dress confined to that neighborhood alone.

· - When accompanied by men to a social event, some women also wear shorter skirts or sleeveless shirts that they normally wouldn't wear out. The same relaxed dress code applies in chic bars and clubs that cater towards a younger and foreign crowd. The one time I've worn a cocktail dress to a party that stopped well above my knees, I was with enough Somali men to commandeer a small vessel and scare the pervert out of any Egyptian man.

What women wear in Cairo should not be considered a physical manifestation of oppression by your own Western cultural standards but an adaption to the religious and social climate in which they must live in. Although it is often so hot that I want to wear spaghetti strapped shirt and shorts, the amount of verbal and sexual harassment, and the potential for assault I'd face combined with my concern for cultural sensitivity prevent me from doing so. Above all else, my overall safety outweighs my concern for my right to walk down the street in a freakum dress or any other false pretenses of feminist bravado.

The Culture Wheel

2010-05-15T13:49:00.000-07:00

The El Sawy Culture Wheel routinely showcases artists and talents fro the region. On Tuesday, May 11, Some friends and I went to watch a concert held by the Sudanese singer, Mohamed El Saweh. The room was filled with a lively crowd from all parts of Sudan clapping, dancing, and singing along to songs mourning the civil war and genocide in their homeland and celebrating unity.

at the Mohandiseen end of 26th of July St. in Zamalek.

Tel: (02) 736-6178 and 735-4508.

Taboula's Lebanese Restaurant

2010-05-14T04:20:00.000-07:00

After our Spa day, I'd planned for the group to go to dinner at Taboula's ( ★) in Garden City. The restaurant was tucked away behind the Canadian embassy on a quiet residential street. When our group of 5 entered, the maitre d' did not look too pleased to see us. Upon realizing that we had not made reservations, he immediately dismissed us to the bar to wait 5-30 minutes for a table. The restaurant was filled with young Egyptian couples and families and a few tourists. After 15 minutes, we realized that there were 3 tables available that were large enough for our party. We inquired again about the wait time and the maitre d' told us that they were giving priority to people with reservations. Frustrated and hungry, we left to see if there were any nearby restaurants where we could eat. Not finding anything else in the area, we debated our options. At least 10 minutes had passed and we'd made no decision so I decided to take one of the guys with me and go back to Taboula's and check on the wait time again. When we entered, I stood back and let the guy do the talking. At first, the maitre d' tried to brush him off again for another 5-30 minute wait but my friend insisted that we take one of the still empty tables. Looking as if he was surprised to see the tables there, the maitre d' told us we could have one of those tables if we wanted it.

As the rest of our party came to join us, our little moment if triumph was short lived. The service was by far the worst I've had in Cairo. It took 10 minutes to get someone to fill our glasses with overpriced bottled water and another 5 to get menus. After 20 minutes, we had to flag our waiter down and ask for bread. Of course, the bread was never brought to our table but to the table of newly arrived guests sitting next to us so we had to ask for bread again. When the bread was finally dropped onto our table by a passing waiter, it was steaming hot and obviously burnt. Another group of foreigners arrived at that point. The group also did not have reservations but the maitre d' had no issues immediately seating them at a newly emptied table.

The waiter who took our orders never bothered to visit our table again. Our water glasses sat empty on the tables never to be refilled for the duration of our meal. I guess that when a 12% gratuity and a 10% sales tax are added to the bill automatically, it's not necessary to be respectable and attentiveness to your guests. When the food was brought out, I was disappointed to see that it was basically all chunks of meat with no vegetables, rice, or even bread to accompany it. I'd ordered the Grilled Lamb Cubes, which is usually one of my favorite dishes. Unfortunately, the food was unexceptional. I ate it and barely tasted a thing as I chewed. We all sampled each others dishes and, excepted for the Fillet Steak, all the dishes were forgettable.

Kofta

Minced Meat

Fillet Steak

The poor serve at Taboula's combined with the lackluster food makes the moderately priced restaurant a place that I surely won't visit again. I've had better Lebanese food from street carts in Paris.

walking home after Taboula's, approaching Tahrir Square

Taboula's
1 Latin American Street
Garden City – Cairo
Tel: ++202 7925261

Muslim Woman stands Up for Her Rights!

2010-05-13T18:11:00.001-07:00

I'm so impressed with this woman's determination and outspokenness that I had to share! She makes so many valid points debunking fundamentalist interpretations of the Qu'ran:

"Under no circumstances am I prepared to allow my identity to be obliterated"

"The Lord created me equal in my duties and punishments...this is the greatest evidence that I am not less qualified"

"You, who frighten people with Hell, have brought them hell on Earth"

Tell the believing men to lower their gaze (from looking at forbidden things), and protect their private parts (from illegal sexual acts)” (An-Nur:30)

more about "Hegab Rehab", posted with vodpod