Aswan, Felucca

Beth woke up yesterday morning and asked me, "I got bit by something last night. Is my eye swollen?"

I looked over and her right eye was puffy Quasimoto style, "a little," I said trying to sound casual, wondering if anyone might have an epi kit available.

Beth had been having a tough 24 hours. We had come from Abu Simbel temple and boarded a boat in Aswan. 48 hours on a boat, no showers, sleeping bags. For me the fun and chance to see the Nile outweighed the discomfort of cold nights and no washing facilities; for Beth, who thinks "roughing it" means a shared jacuzzi, it was a bit more difficult. She read the beginning of her journal entry to the rest of us that day. It began, "Last night was hell. . . " However, I think she is getting in the swing of things. As we disembarked from the boat this morning she said, "If the hotel has hot water and no rats, I'll be in heaven."

We have convered a lot of ground in the last few days. We visited the pyramids just outside of Cairo. They were every bit as amazing as I thought. I went inside (under) one. The passage was about three feet wide and maybe three feet tall, 60 feet long, angling down, leading another small passage. As I went in, I had to control the feeling of claustorphobia that threatened to overtake me. The air got thicker as I decended to a small passage where I could stand upright. Tourists coming back up the same narrow passage way jostled me on their way back to fresh air. After about three minutes, I arrived in a big room that once held treasures but now is cavernously empty.

After the pyramids, we ate Kosheray, a great Egyptian dish of lentils, garlic, onions, pasta, pepper, tomato. . . and who knows what else. We left Cairo by overnight train and arrived in Aswan. We took a boat ride to the Sahara side of the Nile and unboarded amidst the Saharan sand and camels.

One camel was complaining loudly about his lot in life, mouth open, angrily. I made a mental note to give that camel a wide berth. Of course, this was my camel; I got on and leaned forward (I had been warned to do so or risk coming off as the camel going from sitting to standing can be a bit abrupt) My camel became much happier after his keeper got him up and handed me the reins. My camel strode to the front of the group where we led the procession to the Nubian village.

At the Nubian village we ate Nubian food and danced with the children afterwards, and proceeded home to rest up for the early wake up to fly to Abu Simbel the next morning. Abu Simbel was built by Ramses, one very prolific builder. He even took a bunch of temples in Thebes (present day Luxor) and stuck his statues in front, claiming them for his own. Pretty crafty.

The felucca (traditional sailboat) was a relaxing way to to enjoy the Nile. Our crew cooked great food for us, and we had some time to get to know our fellow travelers. Three Aussies, two Canadians, Beth, me, and our fearless leader, Mohammed (pictured sleeping on the deck).

We arrived in Luxor where we took a tour of the town and viewed the temple from afar. It has been cold, so three of us ducked into a store to look for sweaters and found the nicest strangers working in the store. The women there giggled and made us tea as we tried on the clothes. It was a welcome relief from the men who work the street stalls constantly clamoring for tourist attention, for us to come in to their stores, "just look". Although I understand that it is an obvious outcome of the mixing of relatively rich tourists in a poor country, it is still exhausting to have to brave the onslaught of people trying to sell us something day after day.

Tomorrow we ride donkeys to the west bank of Luxor where we visit the Valley of the Kings and the Valley of the Queens. Our leader has promised that the views will be fabulous. The next day we will visit the animal sanctuary and then take an overnight train back to Cairo. I know the sanctuary will be difficult; they don't have the luxury to treat animals the way we do, and the state of the animals here makes my heart ache.

Public Service Announcement

Beth and I met up at the hotel on Friday night, and we have been exploring the different sections of Cairo (Islamic, Christian, Jewish). It has been amazing - but too much to see in a lifetime!

We went to a Sufi music and dance performance last night. The Whirling Dervishes, as they are more popularly known, put on an amazing, colorful production. We have visited the Khan (big market) and many mosques. Yesterday as we were leaving the Al Azhar mosque, one of the gatekeeprers invited us to climb to the top of the only double minaret in Cairo. The conversation was in Arabic mostly, but I understood that we would be paying for it "baksheesh". It was steep and pitch black at times and we circled round and round the tiny spiral stairway, but the view from the top was gorgeous and worth every sore muscle today.

Today my friend/colleague Amr met us to show us another neighborhood in Cairo. As the subway train pulled up, he cautioned us to wait for the next train as the current one was packed. Somehow, Beth didn't hear and piled on, so we had no choice but to follow her. The doors were closing with no room left; she was in; we were out, and we yelled to meet up at the next station. Luckily some people saw that we were being separated and pried the doors open and after bouncing off the crowd a few times, shoved our way in. I have never been so packed in public transport before. We literally could not move.

Unfortunately, most of the travelers were men, and in this country where sexes are still so segregated, being so close can cause problems (Amr later told us that two subway cars are reserved for women only). Soon after we got on Beth yells out a public service announcement, "Ok, whoever has their hand on my breast, take it off!" I join in the protest, yell and give dirty looks to the men behind her, some of whom raise their hands up in the air to show it wasn't them. After we got off, it was more funny than anything. Neither Beth nor I are willing put up with any of that kind of funny business, and when people realize that, they leave you alone. We don't feel unsafe here, just annoyed.

This is probably one place where it would be really exhausting to travel alone. I am really glad we booked a trip, so we won't have to worry about logistics. We meet up with our group tonight. Still having fun (Don't worry, Mom)

End of Conference, Islamic Cairo

1 a.m. and Cairo is still bustling like mid-day Manhatten. My presentation went well yesterday; some people even asked for copies of it (I later was told that giving out electronic copies is a sure way to get my presentation plagarized). Ah well, something about imitation being the sincerest form of flattery.

This has been a great chance to network and to reconnect with other ELFs (hah!) that I had met in D.C. in August. After comparing notes, I am convinced that I have one of the best countries, posts, coworkers, living situations, students, and RELOs of any other fellows. I definitely got lucky.

Today two teachers from the university, Sara and Amr, gave Natalie and me a tour of Islamic Cairo. They had an incredible knowledge of the history of the area as well as of Islam (they are both studying in the religous school here). Sara "covers", which means she wears a headscarf. She chose to wear it at the age of 18, and describes the decision as being her own because she wants to be more humble.

Honestly, I really can't step outside of my culture enough to understand the headscarf issue. My roommate did have a good point that it isn't the headscarf that oppresses women - that poor and uneducated women in China, India, Central America, Egypt . . . have much the same freedoms (or lack thereof) and that we, in the west, have arbitrarily chosen the headscarf to symbolize that; however, the issues are really those of poverty, class, and education. Nevertheless, there are also well-educated, upperclass women that are choosing to cover . . . I am trying to understand, but it may just be beyond me.

It was so nice today to breeze past the other tourists being heckled by touts because we were with locals. We got to see some areas where not many tourists venture, and had an easy time bargaining. The shopkeeper even asked why a Moroccan (me) was speaking English, not French or Arabic. I read later that one of the mosques we entered is forbidden to tourists. . . I am not sure if we were allowed in because we went to the women's entrance (side) or because we were with Sara.

Beth should be landing in D.C. right about now, then on to Frankfurt, then to Cairo, then Cairo rush hour (24/7). She may be a little grumpy when she arrives. Note to self: get separate room.

Cairo

After some trials and tribulations, I have finally arrived in Cairo. I almost didn't get out of Turkey due to the expiration of my residency permit that I can't renew until I get a letter from Turkey's Department of Education which happens to be on an "unofficial" strike because of political reasons.

The scene at the Istanbul airport had the makings of a bad cliche: I was turned back at customs and told to go to the "post office". "Heh, post office, no problem" I thought, "They probably want me to pay some fine, get a stamp, and go".

Turns out the "post office" was actually "police office" (they sound the same, you know). It was a small office, whitewashed cinder block walls adorned with two no smoking signs. Two police officers (one smoking), me with my pre-beginner Turkish language skills, one of the police officers insisting that I had overstayed my visa. In those situations I like to pretend like I know absolutely no Turkish. I hear them bandying around sums of money for me to pay ranging from $2,500 to $25 and try not to let them see me sweat. The clock is ticking, and my flight is boarding in ten minutes; I have yet to clear security.

Finally, I call my Turkish friend and colleague and ask for advice. I did this partially to let them know that I did have some Turkish contacts who would be willing to help me. Just after my phone call I was escorted to a smaller room with three smoking men, a small conversation ensued, and I was let go with a signature and stamp allowing me exit.

At no time did I feel in any sort of danger, but I did understand that there was a distinct possibility of my missing the flight. Luckily I made it on just in time.

When I arrived in Cairo, my bag had been lost, but I had anticipated this eventuality and carried on my suit, laptop, and everything I needed for the conference. The ride to my hotel was nice because my driver pointed out sites along the way. He was proud of the fact that there were huge churches and mosques next to each other. He wanted me to know that the people here live in peace, despite what one hears through the media. When we crossed the Nile, a shiver ran up my spine just thinking of the thousands of years and many civilizations that had lived and perished by this river.

The next morning the English Language Fellows toured the graduate campus where imams are trained. It is the preeminent center for Qu'ran education, and people who graduate from here go all over the world to teach Islam. Each of us was paired up with a student, and we talked for an hour. I must say, it challenged some of my conceptions of "imams". I expected a traditionally dressed very conservative man. Instead, there were men and women students; my partner wore a 3-piece suit and was a professor of Arabic literature. He explained to me how he respected some things about Malcolm X, but that Malcolm X misunderstood a main point of Islam: every person is equal.

Next we registered for the conference at the American University in Cairo and attended the plenary session. Over 1,200 people attended - teachers from all over the region, many from Egypt. There is an excellent bookstore at the AUC, and I was lucky enough to bump into the buyer. He directed me to some literature by a feminist Egyptian author, some of whose books have been banned in Egypt and another author who gives a good picture of daily life in Cairo.

I stayed up late last night discussing headscarves, Islam, poverty, and education with my roommate, Mandy. She is an English Language Fellow in Kyrgyzstan. Today I am giving my presentation.

To end on a funny note. Washington, in all its wisdom, had decided that we are no longer to use the acronym ELF to describes ourselves because it is not professional. The new title is EL Fellow. Take note!