Cab Ride

12:10 PM, Wednesday, February 22, 2012

As I plopped into the front seat of my taxi, I was instantly taken aback by the racy music video that I found playing on top of the glove box in front of me.

“Ay da?!” (what’s that?!) I asked, with an expression of mock-amazement.
“A DVD player!” my cab driver replied. “Do you like it?”
“It’s nice” I responded, turning to look out the window just in time to see a mass of oncoming traffic cascading towards us. Unperturbed (this is a normal phenomenon on Cairo’s streets), I turned back to the driver, who was looking at me with a big grin on his face.

“Are you Catholic?” he asked.

This was a bit of an odd question, not because of its religious element but because of the fact that he asked me specifically if I was Catholic. In fact, asking foreigners about their religion is not an uncommon occurrence on Cairo’s streets and taxicabs, but usually when someone asks me the question they’ll phrase it as “are you Muslim?”

“No, I’m not Catholic.” I responded, “I’m Jewish.”
“You’re Jewish!?” he looked at me with an expression of disbelief, “I’m Jewish too!”

That moment was quite possibly one of the oddest I have had in Egypt. I looked at him, did a double-take, and the first thing that popped into my mind as a response was: “No, you’re not!”

I know for a fact that there are no Egyptian Jewish men still living in the country. About a dozen old women, all of whom are over 70, is what remains of a once flourishing Jewish community. I have attended a few Jewish functions during my time in Cairo (primarily for the food), and the only men in the room are expatriates, the boisterous Egyptian lawyer who does all the legal work for the Jewish community, and a smattering of security guards.

“Yes, I am Jewish!” my driver replied. “We’re from the same religion!”
“Ok,” I said, skeptically, “but you’re Christian, right?”
“Yes, of course!” he replied.

Just as I breathed a sigh of relief at clearing up that issue, he let forth with a second statement that was equally as odd as the first: “I migrated to the U.S. two months ago!”

“You what?”
“Yes, two months ago, I went to the embassy and gave them my documents, you know, all that, and they told me to check back in a few months to see if I could migrate.”
“Oh, I think what you mean to say is that you applied for the green card lottery.” I replied. I didn’t want to sink his hopes, so instead of telling him that he had about a 1 in 200 chance of winning, I simply said “May God be with you” (an Egyptian phrase meaning “good luck”).

“I really want to leave this country!” he declared to me a few moments later.

I had a sense that I knew where this conversation was going. I have had a few Christian cab drivers in the past few months who conveyed similar sentiments: simply put, a large percentage of Egyptian Christians wish that the revolution had never happened. They felt secure in the Mubarak era, happy with a sort of “live-and-let-live” agreement with the largely Muslim – but secular – Mubarak regime. Instead of focusing their efforts on gaining influence in government, Christians occupied themselves with developing a robust network of businesses throughout the country. As a result, they control a disproportionate share of the wealth in today’s Egypt.

“Egypt is going down the drain,” he continued, “all those crazy Islamists have taken power and they hate Christians. I don’t trust them at all! I would even move to Israel if I could!”

Huh. Maybe this cabbie’s assertion that he was Jewish had some unintended nugget of truth to it…I was too dumbfounded to respond with anything other than a bewildered laugh.

“So, who did you vote for in the parliamentary elections?” I asked, although I realized a second after I asked him that there was only one possible answer.

“The Egyptian bloc,” he replied, speaking of the bloc of liberal parties headed by Christian billionaire Naguib Sawiris’ “Free Egyptians Party.” Indeed, if not for the Christian vote, the liberal parties (including the Egyptian bloc) would have almost zero representation in Parliament.

“And do you make any distinction between the Muslim Brotherhood and the Salafis?” I asked. “In my opinion,” I added, “the Muslim Brotherhood is much more pragmatic and moderate than the extremist Salafis.”

“No, all of them are terrible.”

As we climbed onto the bridge linking Giza to Zamalek, the island in the middle of the Nile on which we have classes, the conversation turned back to religion.

“So, tell me, do Jews worship Jesus and the Virgin Mary?” he asked
“No,” I replied, “Jesus and Mary don’t have anything to do with Jewish theology.”
“Really, so then who do you worship? Idols?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Just like his previous statement incorrectly claiming that he was Jewish followed by his expressing a desire to move to Israel, this one also held a nugget of twisted truth. The Jews did, in fact, once worship idols. In the story of the golden calf (which, coincidentally, was my torah portion for my Bar Mitzvah), the Jews – Egyptian Jews, moreover – began to worship a golden calf at the foot of Mount Sinai while they waited for Moses to return from his communion with God at the summit. When Moses returned with the ten commandments in hand, he flung them down in anger at the sight of his people worshiping an idol.

Given the driver’s complete lack of knowledge about Judaism, however, I decided that it would be best not to point out this irony: “No,” I replied, “Jews worship God, the same one that Christians and Muslims do, but they’re still waiting for his prophet to return.”

“Ah, I understand,” he said with a knowing nod, although I suspect that he still thinks that Jews are some breakaway sect of Christianity.

That was the end of our deep conversation, although I would be remiss if I didn’t mention two more outlandish statements that he made in the last five minutes of the trip. First, after asking me if I had a lot of Egyptian girlfriends and hearing my response that no, unfortunately, I did not, he insisted that he would change that.

“I will bring you dozens of girls from Shubra [a working class neighborhood in Cairo that is home to a mix of Christians and Muslims]!”
“Thank you,” I replied, “may God keep you” (an Arabic expression that basically is a polite way of saying “thanks but no thanks”).

A few moments later he turned to me and said with complete earnesty:
“Michael, I want to go to Israel so badly that I would even become an Israeli spy here in Egypt if they would grant me citizenship!”

I can say with complete certainty that that statement is the single most shocking thing I have ever had someone tell me in Cairo. Talk of Zionist conspiracies and espionage, of course, is one of the favorite pastimes of the Egyptian media, and just as unfortunate is the extent to which many Egyptians – both Muslims and Christians – take what they hear in the media as the pure, unadulterated truth. To understand the absurdity of this comment, just imagine an American coming up to you and declaring that he had a deep-seated desire to move to Afghanistan and join the Taliban.

Weirder than weird. And also completely hilarious. Welcome in Egypt.

Tahrir Comes Back to Life

Since last Friday, Tahrir Square has once again become the center of the Egyptian revolution. What started as a nationwide day of protest calling for police officers and government ministers accused of murder and corruption to be brought to justice has now turned into a full-fledged movement demanding the resignation of Field Marshal Hussein Tantawi (the leader of the ruling military council) and Prime Minister Essam Sharaf.

I am not going to spend a lot of time going into the specific political demands of the protesters. For that information, I suggest Al-Jazeera or the blog of my housemate Chris, both of which provide constant analysis of the latest political developments. Instead, I want to provide some general perspective on the overall environment in the square.

While Tahrir is technically a public place, a strong security contingent has sprung up at every entrance to the square. In order to avoid potential conflict, there is absolutely no police presence in the square. Instead, the protest organizing committee has enlisted groups of young men and women to check ID cards, search bags, and perform pat-downs for everyone entering the square. When I attended the protests on Friday, the makeshift security apparatus was initially hesitant to let me in to the square, but they were mollified when an Egyptian friend who I was with vouched for me. In what seems to be a holdover from the Mubarak regime, there are still people who believe that there are rogue actors and foreign conspiracies attempting to hinder the revolution. Nevertheless, despite a few wary glances and three requests to see my AUC ID card, I found nearly all of the protesters whom I talked with to be quite welcoming and interested in hearing my perspective on this new occupation of Tahrir.

During the large protests last Friday, Tahrir resembled a summer music festival in the U.S. There were stages in various parts of the square with politicians and activists addressing the crowd and chanting slogans. Large, colorful banners adorned all parts of the square, echoing the chants of the protesters who were calling for justice, freedom, and an end to military rule. Some vendors, taking advantage of the mass of people and the oppressive heat, hawked drinks and food throughout the day, and others sought to capitalize off the revolution by selling patriotic flags, shirts, and hats. It is impossible to estimate exactly how many people came to Tahrir on Friday, but the number was certainly in the tens of thousands.

It is hard to generalize the types of people who have been in Tahrir for the past few days. While there is a large youth contingent, I also saw plenty of middle-aged and older protesters, too. While there are women in Tahrir, the square remains largely male-dominated. I would estimate that it is about an 80/20 ratio of men to women. Public space in Egypt is often male-dominated (especially at night), and Tahrir is no exception.

Although the Friday protests came to an end and there were no specific activities in Tahrir on Saturday, a diehard group of revolutionaries continued to occupy the square. They have set up a large tent camp in the middle of Tahrir, and the square has remained under the supervision of the volunteer security guards and closed to traffic. The protesters intend for their occupation of Tahrir to be a symbol of resistance to the military council, but they have achieved another significant accomplishment: there has been a dramatic reduction in traffic and noise-pollution in downtown Cairo. The dowsha and zahma that often characterizes the square has been replaced by lively political conversations, live music, and poetry readings. While Tahrir will certainly re-open to traffic at some point, I can’t help but wish that the square would be made into a pedestrian-only area…

As Egypt is back in the middle of the work week, the square is fairly calm during the day. Everyday after 5 PM, however, when most Egyptians have finished work and the weather has cooled off, the square comes back to life. While it is unclear whether these protests will actually force the military council to bend to the demands of the protesters, it is undeniable that the spirit of the revolution has once again returned to the center of Cairo.

The Focus Turns to Midan Al-Tahrir (Again)

"Friday, July 8 is the single most important day in Egypt since Mubarak's ouster on February 11." -- Alaa Al-Aswany, Egyptian writer and political commentator

Hundreds of thousands (possibly one million) Egyptians are expected to descend upon Tahrir Square tomorrow in what will likely be the largest protest in the square since Hosni Mubarak relinquished power in February. The protest enjoys the support of all the major political parties in Egypt (including the liberals and the Islamists), and the parties are claiming to have cast their ideological divisions aside in order to come out as a unified force tomorrow. All the groups have gathered under the banner of economic reform, freedom, and social justice. There is also a big focus on pushing the military council to speed-up the judicial process for both the elements of the Mubarak regime charged with corruption and the police officers charged with murder during the January revolution.

In general, many Egyptians that I have talked to over the past few days feel that this is their best chance to "put the revolution back on the right track." There have been several clashes between protesters and police over the past few weeks - largely in response to several trial postponements that have been interpreted as attempts by those on the military council to protect their former cronies. In addition to the growing discontent with the military council, many people have become disillusioned by the petty fighting between the many political parties and the growing rift between the liberals and the Islamists. Furthermore, the country's economy is still suffering from a drop in tourism and foreign investment after the revolution.

Over the past month, I have felt that Tahrir has become more of a "Speaker's Corner" than the center of a revolution. Everyone is always eager to talk, but it is unclear that those gathering there have anything to show for it. Tomorrow, however, may well be different. The sheer spectacle of a mass of humanity once again in the square, united by a list of simple demands, might push the military council to bow to the will of the protesters. On the other hand, there is also a chance that tomorrow's protest could lead to violent clashes (especially if a group of people try once again to attack the Interior Ministry). As Egyptians like to say: "rabina yestoorna" (may God protect us).

I will be back with an update tomorrow. For those of you following on twitter, use #tahrir, #jul8, and #egypt

The Arabeezy Phenomenon

The American University in Cairo is by far the most well-endowed university in Egypt. Its facilities resemble those at most universities in the United States, and its tuition is comparable to its counterparts in the U.S. as well. Because the cost of an AUC education is well beyond the means of an ordinary Egyptian family, the Egyptian students at AUC are primarily from the upper crust of society. As part of CASA’s “cultural exchange” program, we have had the opportunity to get to know a group of Egyptian AUC students. After several potlucks lunches, picnics, and other get-togethers, I have become particularly close with a few of the Egyptians. Like many of my friends in Alexandria, my AUC friends are smart, charismatic, and intellectually curious. They are just as interested in learning from us as we are in learning from them.

Most if not all of these AUC students speak English very well. Like other Egyptians who speak English with a high level of proficiency, however, they often speak a mixture of Arabic and English. This hybrid language is known in Egypt as "Arabeezy" (a mixture of "Arabic" and "Ingleezy," the Arabic word for English). Arabeezy speakers generally combine basic Arabic verbs, pronouns, and conjunctions with more complex English nouns and phrases. Sometimes an entire sentence will be in Arabic save for one key word (e.g. "I had a tough day at work today because there were so many customers" - every word would be Arabic except for "customers"), but I have also heard people intersperse Arabic and English words one after another throughout the sentence (e.g. "I'm studying economics because I want to work at a foreign company that has an office here in Cairo").

This code-switching seems to occur completely naturally. At the same time, I am highly skeptical that they are simply unable to distinguish between languages when they are speaking. Instead, I view Arabeezy as a status symbol related to class and education.* English is taught in every Egyptian school, but often not very well. When I taught English last year in Alexandria at a private learning center, for example, my college-aged students who had taken English throughout their primary and secondary education were still making entry-level mistakes. For them, Arabeezy consisted of trying to speak a few words in English followed by a lapse back into Arabic because they couldn't find the appropriate English word to finish their sentence. For these AUC students, however, their seemingly unconscious code-switching between English and Arabic clues anyone listening to them into their command of English -- a skill that is intimately tied to class and means. While I am not sure if they are purposefully trying to impress us Americans, there definitely seems to be an element of superiority compared to the average Egyptian who knows only the most basic English words and phrases.

There are two other factors that encourage the Arabeezy phenomenon as well. First is the tendency of many upper-class Egyptians to follow Western pop culture religiously. Many of the AUC students have seen more American movies than I have, and I was shocked by how many of them knew the lyrics to American songs that we sang together on our outing to a public park in Cairo last weekend. The desire to speak English instead of Arabic follows from this general interest in pop culture. Secondly, it is undeniable that English proficiency is a huge advantage in the Egyptian labor market. Many of the well-known companies in the Egyptian private sector conduct their business partially or sometimes fully in English, and English is also a basic requirement for anyone going into a tourism-related business. Thus, Egyptians may see Arabeezy as a way to practice their English - especially when they are speaking to native English speakers whom they know will understand the English words that they use.

As a student of Arabic, I find Arabeezy incredibly frustrating. While I understand the factors that drive Egyptians to want to speak English with me, I would much rather have them speak to me fully in English or fully in Arabic. Combining the two languages, however, prevents both of us from learning anything. One of the most important benefits of listening to native speakers speak is that you learn how to construct sentences and use vocabulary in the proper context. Code-switching in the middle of sentences distracts attention from sentence construction, and it also does not help the speaker learn how to use English phrases and words in the proper context. Having the ability to speak more than one language is truly a gift, but with great ability comes great responsibility. So, to all the Arabeezy speakers out there, I beg you: at the beginning of every conversation, just pick a language and stick with it!


* I am not this first to make this argument. For an excellent window into the political and social developments in Egypt over the past 60 years, see Galal Amin's book Whatever Happened to the Egyptians?.

Not Your Average First Day of School...

Ever since I started pre-school, my mom always took photos of me in front of our house as I prepared to go to the first day of school. Usually I posed for these photos complacently, although there were a few years in high school when I had a distinct scowl on my face (clearly too cool for school). I was always in front of the house, and, while I looked a little different in each one (taller, new clothes, new hairdo, etc.), there was not much to distinguish one year from another. When school began last Tuesday, however, I decided to carry on this tradition, albeit in a slightly different setting.



I am standing in Tahrir Square, in front of one of the walls of the American University in Cairo, and the Arabic writing behind me reads "Live the Revolution."

While I often feel like this country is pretty much the same as the Egypt that I experienced in 2010, there are times when the magnitude of what happened between January 25 (the start of the protests) and February 11 (Mubarak's ouster) really hits home. Every morning on the taxi ride to school, we drive past the burned out headquarters of Mubarak's National Democratic Party. Ironically, that shell of a building sits right next to the Ritz-Carlton, which is also a shell of a building because it is in the midst of a giant renovation. Walking around downtown Cairo, nearly every available wall facing the street has turned into a a space for public art commemorating the revolution, calling for national unity, and urging Egyptians to take pride in their country. In class this week, the revolution came up in nearly every discussion. And every day dozens of people gather around newsstands in the morning to read the latest headlines about political and economic developments.

Anybody who claims to know how all of this political, social, and economic upheaval will play out is simply lying. But while there is a great deal of uncertainty about this country's future, there is also a distinct sense of accomplishment and optimism that the forces that led to Mubarak's downfall can be channeled to build the new Egypt, too.

A Trip to Fantasyland

Yesterday was my first and only “true” day of summer. The sun was shining, I swam a few laps in a pristine, Olympic-sized pool, and spent the rest of the day reading and lounging poolside with a few friends. All in all, a very pleasant experience.

Step back for a second. I am in Egypt right now, a developing country in which the provision of clean water to the citizenry is still a major issue. I would venture to guess that less than one percent of the population has ever seen a swimming pool, much less swam in one. While I technically was still in Egypt yesterday, I spent the day in “New Cairo,” a sheltered, phantasmagorical development on the outskirts of Cairo that resembles an upscale suburb of Los Angeles. New Cairo is home, appropriately, to the American University of Cairo’s “New Campus.” AUC’s new home is beautiful. The campus is spacious, the buildings are built in a modern Islamic style that is reminiscent of both the alleyways of Damascus and adobe brick buildings in the American Southwest, and the campus has just about every resource that an American college student is used to (a huge library, beautiful sports complex, WiFi-equipped classrooms, etc.)

The fact that this beautiful campus is in Egypt, though, is decidedly weird. That is not to say that Egypt is not worthy of such a place. Indeed, I’m sure that any Egyptian student would be happy to attend AUC over other Egyptian universities (which tend to lack even the most basic facilities and services and are often just as corrupt as other institutions in the country were under Mubarak). But AUC in general is not composed of Egyptians from all walks of life. It has a reputation for being an exclusive, country-club like university for the children of Egypt’s elite. Classes are primarily in English, there is an “Americana” food court, and it costs $4 just to ride the bus from the center of Cairo to the new campus (a significant fee for all but the richest in this society).

Indeed, the new AUC campus and its surroundings are emblematic of the huge chasm between Egypt’s ultra-rich and the rest of the population. Although Mubarak’s economic and social policies wreaked havoc on the poor during his 30 years in power, the economic liberalization that he oversaw allowed for the formation of a privileged upper-class. The new AUC Campus (and New Cairo in general) are manifestations of the chasm between Egypt’s ultra-rich and the rest of the population. Whereas the average Egyptian living in an urban area resides in a cramped apartment building, takes public transportation, and buys his food from street vendors, the average resident of New Cairo resides in a villa-like house, has one or more cars, and shops at the local mall.

Many Egyptians will certainly tell you that they aspire to live in a place like New Cairo. The residents of New Cairo all enjoy the amenities of life that we in the West could not dream of living without, and which the international community has focused on promoting in the developing world. But New Cairo, in my opinion, does not represent “development” in any meaningful sense of the word. It is easy to forget the hardships of daily life in Egypt while lounging at the AUC pool. There is a fine line, however, between simply living and working in an wealthy, calm area away from the bustle of the city and isolating yourself to the point where you lose all perspective of the way that the other 99% of the society lives.

House Hunting in Cairo

Unlike my first trip to Egypt in January, 2010, I am not dealing with too much culture shock this time around. I know the city of Cairo pretty well, I can speak the local dialect, I know how much to pay for basic goods and services, and I am used to the idiosyncrasies of daily life here.

Despite all of that, my first few days here have not been a walk in the park. During my semester abroad, we arrived with housing waiting for us. This time, all of us on the program are tasked with finding apartments on our own. Over the past two and a half days, my two future housemates and I visited approximately 15 apartments looking for the perfect match. Some were too big, some were too small, some didn’t allow visitors of the opposite sex, etc…We finally settled, however, on a top-floor apartment with a rooftop view of the Nile that is located about 10 minutes walk from Tahrir Square. It’s currently under renovation, but we should be able to move there in about a week. Phew! It’s good to be able to check that one off the to-do list.

The apartment search, however, did have some upsides. Going from building to building asking the doormen whether there were any available apartments gave us the opportunity to brush up on our Egyptian dialect. We also learned several new words, such as mafroosh (furnished) – it turns out that nearly all apartments for rent come with a complete set of furniture, beds, and household appliances. When you take into account the fact that our apartment is completely furnished with three big bedrooms, a nice kitchen, and a large sitting room, paying $200 a month for rent and utilities seems like nothing!

We also had a chance to do some bargaining with the Egyptian landlords that we met. Haggling over prices is, of course, a facet of daily life here, but it was very interesting to take note of the other topics that came up as we discussed the possibility of living in various apartments. One of the most prominent of those topics was the issue of having visitors of the opposite sex into the apartment. Perhaps unfairly (or perhaps not), young Americans have a reputation here as licentious and disrespectful of cultural norms when it comes to their interactions with each other or with Egyptians.

Whether we actually engage in more “culturally inappropriate” behavior than your average young Egyptian is up for debate (the subject for another blog post). Nevertheless every landlord we spoke to was extremely apprehensive when we asked him or her a question about having friends over. We were careful to phrase the question in as neutral a way as possible, emphasizing that we wanted to have friends over for dinner or to study. About half the landlords that we asked, however, flatly refused. For us, that question was a “make or break” one. We wanted to be able to host friends at our house, and more importantly we didn’t want to have a landlord who was implicitly suspicious of our motives or character.

Luckily, our landlady-to-be was fine with our have friends of both sexes over to our apartment (provided that we not make too much noise). That was fine with us. Having found an apartment, we are now enjoying a relaxing Friday. Noon prayers just ended, and as I was finishing this post a cacophony of sound broke out on the street. As we are currently staying near Tahrir Square, I initially thought that it might be some sort of protest. After Friday prayers, of course, was the prime time for protests during the Egyptian uprising. As I looked down from our balcony, however, I realized that all that noise was actually from a group of food vendors hoping to take advantage of the hundreds of people pouring out of the mosque, drivers honking to get the vendors out of their way, and the multitude of other random noises that characterize daily life on Cairo’s streets. Ah Egypt, it’s good to be back!