Nose to the Grindstone

I just realized today that it's been almost two weeks since I last posted, so I figured I'd give a quick rundown of the happenings about town here in Alexandria. I've been quite busy with classes and schoolwork, but of course there has been more than enough time for adventures and discussions outside of the classroom. Here's a quick outline of what I've done the past few weeks, and I'll come back with some more details tomorrow or Wednesday.

First of all, I spent a night two weekends ago with Khalid, the academic director of the program and my first ever Arabic teacher at Tufts, in a village located just outside of Cairo called Abu Sir. This is the village where Khalid (who is American) lived for a year while he was learning Arabic and working in Cairo. He stays in contact with his former host family, and I was elated to have the chance to accompany him for a night with the family. The warmth of everyone in the village, the delicious home-cooked food, and the exposure to completely new viewpoints reminded me of my time in rural Kenya last summer.

Second, I had several really interesting conversations about the contrast between most Egyptians' outward appearance of religiosity and dedication to Islam and the clamor and sometimes ugliness of daily life - dirty streets, no respite from honking horns, and the general lack of order in everything from restaurants to basic services. Is the ostensible contrast between the order of religious life and Islam and the disorder of daily life a problem that stems from the Egyptian people themselves, or is there a political basis for it instead?

Third, I had a great time last weekend playing tour-guide for a day and showing my friend Ben from Tufts around the city. The essentials of Alexandria: ful and falafel, a walk through the "Bahri" neighborhood near the sea, a trip to the Qait-Bey Citadel overlooking the Mediterranean, a meal of grilled, delicious fish, and, of course, fresh juice!

Finally, I attended a really interesting lecture today at Alexandria University about the relationship between Egypt and Russia in World War II and the continuation of those relations in the 65 years since the war. The professor in my seminar on "Geopolitics of the Middle East" chaired the lecture, and we heard from him, two other professors at the university, the dean of the college of arts and sciences, and two Russian guests who had their speeches translated into Arabic. Quite a whirlwind of information for my brain to process. I managed to understand most of it - the gist was that the battle of El-Alamein, which took place just a little ways west of Alexandria, and the siege of Stalingrad were two of the most important turning points in the war and that the cooperation between Egypt and Russia was essential in guaranteeing victory for the Allies. All of the speakers also mentioned the collaboration between the two countries in the building of the High Dam at Aswan. Interestingly, the U.S. was not mentioned in any context during the speech. In addition to having a chance to keep on practicing my Arabic, it was really fun to be a part of a true cultural exchange without any English whatsoever. One of the Russian presenters, a former general in the Air Force, brought the house down when he declared that were he younger and if he had the chance to go back to school, he would most certainly learn Arabic.

I'll flesh out these experiences some more in the coming days when I have time. By the way, I'm off on Wednesday night to Lebanon and Syria for a week and a half of travel in the two countries.

Adventures in Alexandria

Upfront disclaimer: Really long post!

Word of the day: مغامرة - (mookhamara - "adventure")

On Mondays and Tuesdays I usually have a one-on-one seminar with a Alexandria University professor focused on "Geopolitics in the Middle East," but, since my professor is out of town this week, I had a full afternoon free today. With so much time on my hands, I decided to undertake an adventure that I had been planning to do for a long time. I have written before on this blog about how much I love the "مناطق شعبية" ("minataq shaabia" translation: traditional/working class neighborhoods) in Alexandria. They are full of life, hustle and bustle, delicious bakeries and street-food shops, and there are always people there eager to talk with me about anything and everything. I have been visiting these neighborhoods one by one, usually with Galal, my Egyptian friend and running buddy. Today, however, Galal was busy so I went out by myself. My plan in the beginning was to go to my favorite lunch spot, stroll through my favorite souq that is near the restaurant, and then hop on the one of the tram lines that runs through a neighborhood called "ميناء البصل" ("Meena al Basal" literal translation: seaport of onion), a "shaabi" neighborhood that few if any of the Egyptian students living with us had ever visited. After that, I planned to ride another tram to the main train station and then, after a short walk, ride another tram back to the dorms. I ultimately achieved all of these goals, but the best parts of the adventure was not the transportation but instead the conversations and interactions I had with people on the street.

Here's a link to Google Maps that shows the route I took: http://bit.ly/aUFUcU

After I eating a delicious lunch of "فول و فلافل" (fava beans and falafel) at my favorite restaurant, Mohammed Ahmed, I took a short walk to my favorite souq that stretches out through one of Alexandria's oldest neighborhoods. Everything under the sun exists there. Today, I talked with a man selling squid about the possibility of cooking calamari, and I saw, for the first time in my life, a series of severed cow heads sitting on the street. Clearly nothing out of the ordinary. A few seconds after I first noticed the heads, the butcher started swinging his hatchet to break down the heads. I now have a firsthand understanding of just how big cow tongues really are!

I finished my walk through the souq and ambled over to the Abu Al-Abbas Mosque - Alexandria's most beautiful, in my opinion. Set just off the Mediterranean, the mosque is an architectural and artistic marvel. I was planning to go in and poke around the mosque for a bit, but instead I found a group of teenagers playing soccer in the mosque courtyard. They invited me to join in, so we spent about 20 minutes playing soccer, using one of the mosque walls as one goal and the other side of the courtyard as the other. As I was about to leave, one of the boys piped up "Give us some money, maybe five dollars!" I was somewhat surprised upon hearing this request. Unlike my experience in Kenya last summer when I was constantly asked for money almost everywhere I went, I really haven't had any similar experiences during my time in Egypt save for the occasional beggar on the street. Whereas in Kenya I probably would have shrugged it off and just went on my way, I decided to ask these kids why they had asked me for money. "We just played a friendly game of soccer, why are you asking me now for money? Is it because I am a foreigner and you think all foreigners have lots of money?" I asked them. Instantly, they turned very apologetic: "Oh no no, we didn't mean anything, we just want to buy a new soccer ball...sorry!" "Ok" I said, "No problem. I was just interested in why you asked me that question." I still tried to ask them one more time what the logic was behind their initial request, but I got the same response.

We chatted a little more as I was leaving the courtyard of the mosque, and somehow the conversation turned to the recent events in Israel. There has been a lot of resentment and anger amongst the Egyptians over the last few days over the Israeli expansion of settlements into East Jerusalem and the perception that a newly rebuilt temple near Al-Aqsa Mosque in Jerusalem is disrespectful and reflective of Israeli plans to desecrate the mosque. There was a protest yesterday at Alexandria University, and the newspapers have been following the story closely, too. Throughout the 2+ months I have been in Egypt I have never been reticent to tell people that I am Jewish, and I have never felt any threat to my physical safety as a result of telling people that I am Jewish. On the contrary, almost without exception I have been treated with respect even if the other person does not share my viewpoints. So I decided to seize the opportunity for another interesting conversation by telling these kids that I was Jewish. I think their being teenagers together in a group partially contributed to their initial reactions, which tended to be pretty negative. I had a few insults thrown at me and there was generally a lot of whooping and hollering among them. I kept completely calm, however, and made it completely clear to them from the beginning that I considered all of them friends and had tremendous respect for Islam. In the same way that I respected their religion, I expressed hope that they would respect me and my religion, too. Respect is a very strong word in Arabic and in Islam in general, and Muslims who I have talked with frequently quote the Qur'an as specifically telling them to respect Jews and Christians. So after the boys calmed down a bit, I explained to them that even though I am Jewish I do not automatically support everything that Israel does. "As a matter of fact," I told them, "I don't agree with the recent expansion of settlements and I think that Israel needs to reconsider its projects near Al-Aqsa seeing as to the extremely negative reaction from Muslims throughout the Middle East." Having established that I generally agreed with their current grievances, I went on to say that my overarching hope was that the two sides would find a way to work together to achieve peace and a two-state solution. "I don't respect any side - Israel or Palestine - that uses violence to further its causes," I told them, and most of them nodded their heads in agreement. At the same time, however, they became increasingly interested in the idea of convincing me that I had to recited the Shahada (There is no God but Allah and Muhammad is his messenger) and become a Muslim then and there. Staying patient, I explained to them that although I deeply respected their religion I did not want to convert. The conversation then reverted back into commotion, with some of them chanting the Shahada and some of them singing other random songs, so I sat back and waited for them to finish so we could return to our civil conversation that we had been having earlier. They eventually did, and we spent the last few minutes discussing the differences between the actions of the Israeli government and the general desire of the vast majority of the Jewish people for peace. I never felt any physical threat from them, but it was interesting from my perspective to see how they reacted upon hearing that I was Jewish and to hear some of their initial insults. I am happy, however, that the conversation took a turn for the better and I think we did reach a point of mutual understanding by the end of it.

After eating some delicious ice cream at the end of the peninsula in Alexandria that juts into the Mediterranean, I hopped on my first tram of the day and struck up a conversation with Mohammed, an old man who was sitting next to me. After the obligatory initial exclamation of surprise that I inevitably hear when I start to speak to someone in Arabic, we struck up a really interesting conversation about how Alexandria has changed throughout his life. He was born and raised here, and he spun the classic "back in my day" narrative about how life here used to better than it is now. At the same time, however, we did discuss some real issues such as the problem of youth unemployment. Mohammed said that when he graduated from college, a degree automatically earned you a stable job. For those without degrees, work was readily available in skilled trades. His opinion on the situation today was that fresh graduates feel entitled to instantly jump into a high level job in engineering, medicine, law, etc. Problems arise, however, when many of them realize that that option is not available. He said to me that the main problem is that they are unwilling to take any lower-paying or less-skilled job in the meantime. I have heard this story from many Egyptians - including my fellow Egyptian students at the university - and I have yet to hear any convincing ideas on how to solve the problem. One observation that I do have is that the idea of "entrepreneurship" is not particularly prominent in students' thinking about their options after graduation. A possible reason for this lack of entrepreneurship that I have heard from many of my fellow students is the Egyptian education system's seemingly endless quest to privilege memorization of information over creativity, critical-thinking skills, and discussions with professors instead of one-sided lectures.

In yet another example of the generosity that I have been so fortunate to have received here in Egypt, Mohammed absolutely insisted on paying my fare (5 cents) on the tram, and before he got off he made sure everyone else on the tram knew where I was trying to get to and would direct me accordingly.

The neighborhood Meena al Basal that I had planned the adventure around turned out to be fairly uninteresting. Just a conglomeration of light industrial factories and trucks coming and going from the port. Definitely working class, but generally without the general vibrancy that I have repeatedly found in other neighborhoods. Because I only saw it from tram, however, I think I owe the neighborhood another visit to poke around some more before I fully pass judgment. As I approached Alexandria's main train station, I was vaulted back into the working class world full of honking horns, crowded streets, and overwhelming sights and smells. After picking up a small pizza at one of the bakeries - and having yet another conversation on Israel, this time with the baker - I strolled down the main street of another working class neighborhood taking in scene. Bustling souqs, vendors hawking their wares, Egyptians relaxing in street-side cafes smoking sheesha and drinking tea, and mothers shepherding their children through the hustle and bustle of it all. I had to interrupt my walk for one of Alexandria's finest treats: fresh orange juice. And by fresh I mean literally juice squeezed from an orange on the spot. Delicious.

I finally reached my last tram of the day, and, of course, had to strike up a chat with everyone on the train. I was especially interested in a 10 year old kid who informed me with absolute certainty that he planned to visit me in America. I didn't realize how tired I was, however, until my eyes started to slowly glaze over in the middle of the ride, and before I knew it I found myself being tapped on the shoulder by one of my newly-made friends on the tram telling me that the tram had reached my stop. After bidding the people on the tram goodbye, I bought half a kilo of bananas from my favorite fruit stall and picked up a piping hot piece of of pita bread for 5 cents at the bakery. Finally, 5 hours after I started, I ended my adventure by triumphantly walking through the dorm gates and making a beeline for dinner.

Alexandria is truly the gift that keeps on giving. Not too big and not too small, I always find something new to surprise me when I go out exploring in the city. The best part, though, is the interactions that I have with people in places like the mosque courtyard / soccer field, the bakery, or the tram. Luckily for me, everyone's interest in chatting with the tall, undoubtedly foreign, blonde-haired guy who speaks Arabic never wanes.

4 Idyllic Days in Jordan

After our trip to Sinai, a group of us slogged through a long day of travel to finally arrive in Wadi Musa, a Jordanian town that is most famous for its proximity to the ancient city of Petra. I had the good fortune to be able to spend a day and a half exploring Petra, and I came away from the experience absolutely convinced that Petra is one of the most beautiful and awe-inspiring places in the world.

Three of us (myself included) managed to power ourselves up for an early start the next morning despite the fact that we had just finished such a long day of travel. It was completely worth it. The majesty of Petra is indescribable - it would still be famous for its natural beauty were there not an extensive city carved into its rocks. The initial walk from the town to the city winds through a steep, colorful canyon. All along the sides of the path you can see two channels dug into the rocks. More than 2000 years ago, when Petra was a flourishing city, these channels carried water from the spring at the top of the hill in Wadi Musa to the city of Petra (about 3 miles away). Water from one channel was used for agriculture and water from the other was for drinking. Some of the old clay pipes from the drinking water channel are still intact today.

When you turn the final corner of the path you are hit full on by "The Treasury," Petra's most famous structure and the one that is still in the best condition today. The Treasury, like nearly of the structures still standing in Petra today, was literally carved directly out of the side of a mountain. As we wandered through the rest of the extensive city over the next day and a half we kept stopping in our tracks and staring agape at one stunning building after another. Again, words cannot do justice to the city. Petra is a place that you have to visit and see with your own eyes to fully comprehend.


After Petra, we spent a night in the desert in a place called Wadi Rum. Between the soaring mountains and beautiful rock formations in the desert, the normally barren and sandy ground was actually covered in small green plants that shot up as a result of the recent rains there. This "desert meadow" was a true sight to behold. After taking the obligatory camel ride through the desert, we spent the night at a Bedouin camp (and had the best dinner I have had since I left the US).

We left the camp early the next morning and all that was left after that was a long day of travel back to Cairo. Even though the day seemed to drag on and on (it took 24 hours all told to get from Wadi Rum to Cairo), we also had a number of amazing interactions with random people along the way that happened for two reasons: one, we spoke Arabic, and, two, the people we met were unbelievably nice and generous. We rode a microbus from Wadi Rum to a small town about 20 miles from the Red Sea town of Aqaba where we had to catch the ferry back to Egypt. On the way, we befriended the microbus driver, a student majoring in Arabic at the University of Jordan. In the process of chatting with him while we waited for the second bus that would take us to Aqaba, we also struck up a conversation with a member of the Jordanian Army who was waiting for the same bus. When the bus finally came, both guys absolutely insisted that they pay for our bus ride, and they then shepherded us through Aqaba to a take-out restaurant where we picked up lunch and then connected us with a taxi driver they knew who took us to the ferry terminal. There is nothing I appreciate more than random and unrequested acts of kindness, and such generosity has been a theme that has run strong throughout my experience in Egypt and Jordan.

Finally, as we boarded the ferry for our return trip to Egypt, the captain of the boat recognized us as the Arabic-speaking Americans who had rode the ship a few days earlier. I think he must have been from Jordan because after we greeted him with a Jordanian Arabic greeting that we had learned he doubled-over with laughter and pointed to one of his crew members and yelled "fohk!" (up!). At first we didn't know what he meant, but we realized seconds later that he had told his crew to take us up to the first-class deck on top of the boat. We proceeded to enjoy our ferry ride in the lap of luxury, taking in the beautiful views of Jordan, Egypt, Israel, and Saudi Arabia all together on the shore of the Red Sea.

But there is still no place like home. I have had a great week back in Alexandria, making frequent trips to my favorite juice and falafel stands and generally enjoying the warm weather tempered by the cool sea breezes here. Today a group of us are about to head off on a 1.5 day bike trip in the countryside. And with that in mind, I'm sure I will have much more to report on when I get back!

Sinai, Snorkeling, and Saudi Arabia

We've spent the past few days in Dahab, a beach town in Sinai, in the lap of (relative) luxury. It's been quite nice to relax for a few days, and I am currently on a ferry from Sinai to Jordan where I will be visiting Petra and Wadi Rum over the next few days. The boat was supposed to leave at 12:30, but we're just pulling away now at 5:45. When you combine this experience with the one I had a week ago when we sat on the side of the road for five hours during our trip from Alexandria to Sinai waiting for a flat tire on the bus to get fixed, I think I've found every possible way to force myself to just relax and stay patient. A good book and a nap certainly help, too.

Speaking of naps, I took a very pleasant one today because I didn't get any sleep last night. On our last night in Sinai, we climbed Jebel Musa (the mountain where Moses supposedly received the 10 commandments) and reached the summit in time to see a beautiful sunrise. The Sinai is a harsh, dry desert, but at the same time it is stunningly beautiful. The sharp, rocky mountains here remind of me Yosemite, and the dryness is partially offset by the crystal clear Red Sea that lies just below the mountains.

As a group, we spent a two days snorkeling, including one at a beautiful national park called Ras Muhammad. A few of us also went on a desert safari (picture below) that included hikes through two winding, narrow canyons flanked on both sides by sheer rock faces with unique designs carved into them by the work of sand and water over millions of years.



Finally, as for Saudi Arabia, I caught my first glimpse of the country across the Red Sea from Dahab. Of course there is not much that you can see other than mountains and a few twinkling lights, but our proximity to the country sparked some interesting conversations about the cultural differences between the two countries and the phenomenon of labor migration from Egypt to Saudi Arabia and its effect on Egyptian society. One of the "friends of the program" named Shoowee (spelling approximate, a friend of the program directors and a frequent participant in our group events) who came along with us on the trip spent 10 years of his childhood in Saudi Arabia where his father, Egyptian by birth, worked as a dentist. I was particularly interested to hear about the state of relations between native Saudis and foreigners in the country. According to Shoowee, almost all the foreigners in Saudi Arabia live in a compounds with their own countrymen, and life inside those compounds is essentially a microcosm of their former lives in their home countries. Workers spend their days outside the compounds working with Saudis and other foreigners, but at the end of the day everyone returns to their own enclosure. In ten years of living in Saudi Arabia, Shoowee counted only two Saudis as real friends. He didn't go as far to say that their is discrimination against foreigners in Saudi Arabia, but it was clear from his description that huge discrepancies exist between migrants and natives there.

Learning about Shoowee's experience in Saudi Arabia led me to ask him a second set of questions about the influence of the Saudi culture and brand of Islam on Egypt over the past 30 to 40 years. We have heard from many people that Egypt's tendency to move toward a more conservative, religious-focused culture over that time period was at least partially due to the experiences of Egyptian migrant workers in Saudi Arabia and the customs and ideas that they brought back with them to Egypt upon their return. For example, whereas the hijab was rarely seen on the streets in the 1950s and 1960s, today I would estimate that in Alexandria about 95% of Egyptian women on the streets wear one. After hearing Shoowee's description of the divide between migrants and natives in Saudi Arabia, however, I asked him how Saudi culture could have such influence on Egypt. It seemed to me that if you spent a majority of your time in a compound with your own countrymen that the influence of Saudi culture would be limited at best upon your return to Egypt. Shoowee said that in a sense this idea was correct, but that just because he or his Egyptian friends didn't have many close relationships with native Saudis didn't mean that they weren't exposed to the culture and customs on a daily basis. When you're there for a long time, it is inevitable that your opinions about Islam, gender relations, etc. will be influenced if not changed simply because of the length of exposure. It is important to keep in mind that the influence of Saudi Arabia is just one of many factors that contributed to Egyptian society's move toward more conservative customs and a deeper sense of religiosity, and also that not every migrant who spent time in Saudi Arabia or other Arab countries returned to Egypt with a changed viewpoint. Nevertheless, the sheer number of Egyptian migrants to Saudi Arabia and the length of time that they have spent there (primarily because Saudi jobs are quite lucrative) has had a clear influence on Egyptian customs and society.