I find myself writing to you once again from the peaceful dark of my balcony. It's almost midnight here in Cairo, and though parts of the city are only now coming to life and there are markets and squares teeming with warm bodies and the swishing of fabric in the welcome breeze--it's completely silent now on my small street, except for the soft hum of air conditioning units. My roommates are out, so I find myself happily alone to take in the quiet evening with a havana honey and cup of cinnamon flavored Nescafe. No, I certainly have no regrets bringing two cartons of flavored cigarillos with me.
Now, a word on the Nescafe--I recently received a shipment of fresh-from-the-source Ethiopian coffee, and it could break your heart. After two months, I had literally almost forgotten what normal coffee tastes like--much less "We invented coffee, biotch" Ethiopian beans. I'm not quite BA enough to drink it (which I've learned to make Turkish style using this crazy tin-can-with-a-handle contraption on the stove) at night and fall asleep before dawn. And, not one to forsake my old friends, Nescafe still has a special place in my heart.
A word on the American election.
At my morning job, it is one of my sole responsibilities to track the presidential campaign, particularly when it relates to Middle Eastern policy. I'm to the point where I could nearly track their bowel movements, much less their travels across the states. But hey, no surprise, right? After all, I'm an American and researching the election is part of my job--no wonder I'm engrossed in it.
But what may surprise some people is how closely the Egyptians are following the Presidential election--from the Secretary General at my internship to illiterate taxi drivers. And it goes beyond mere name recognition: these same folks will tell you exactly what they thought of the policies of every American president from Carter to the present and forecast political scenarios based on the possible victories of either candidate. In short, they might be a savvier electorate than significant swaths of the United States.
Some political comments from recent weeks.
Alaa: I love George Bush.
Me: Why?
Alaa: I think he's beautiful. And he is very intelligent. I am actually his son. It's a secret. Shh... the CIA might find out I'm here.
Me: Alaa. You hate George Bush. You told me so before.
Alaa: No, he is a very handsome man. How could I hate a handsome man? ...Ok, yes, you're right. He is very stupid.
A co-worker: Of course I like Obama, and we hope for him over McCain. But no matter what President comes next, nothing will change--the USA and Israel will be as close as ever. Did you hear what Obama said about Jerusalem? Not even George Bush will promise Jerusalem to be the undivided capitol of Israel.
Me: Of course, it's the campaign season--he has to say all sorts of things to win over the Jewish voters back home. Who knows what his real policies will be? Plus, he met with the Palestinians--that's significant, isn't it?
Co-worker: Honey, when you've seen as many American Presidents as I have, you know it's all just variations on a theme.
Member of my host family: I love George Bush.
Me: Really? Why?
Memer of my host family: He is a Christian. I saw him praying on TV. He is a good man inside.
Me: He may be a good man inside, but he is not too smart in his head.
Member of my host family: What?
Me: Nevermind.
Esam: I think someone will kill Obama.
Me: Why??
Esam: Because America has many problems with the black people.
Me: But the fact he can run for President shows that things are getting better. I don't think anyone will assassinate him. Plus, he's very popular.
Esam: Yes, but there are always crazy people. It's like Islam. Most every Muslim loves peace. But there are also crazy, bad Muslims. Many Americans may love Obama, but there are still some crazy ones who may do something very stupid. I think you will have another civil war if he becomes president.
Amir: President Bush was sitting on an airplane with Dick Cheney and Karl Rove. He found a dollar bill under his seat. Bush asked Dick Cheney what to do with it. Dick Cheney suggested that he get 4 quarters and throw it out of the plane so that he can make 4 people happy.
Bush thought this was a good idea--after all his approval ratings have been pretty low with the Iraq war and all that. He turns to Karl Rove. Karl Rove suggests he gets 10 dimes and throw it out the window to make 10 people happy. "Even better," thinks Bush.
He turns to ask the flight attendant the same question. "Why don't you throw yourself out of the plane," she suggests, "and make 6 billion people happy."
A friend's uncle from a village in upper Egypt: Bush is finished?
Me: soon--in January. Then there will be a new president.
Uncle: Good. Bush hates Muslims. He thinks any Muslim with a bomb will be a disaster. Yet they encourage Israel to have nuclear bombs. America tries to create problems in the Middle East so that they cannot unite. If the countries of the Middle East were united, they would not need America. But now, they have a conflict, they have a war--and they say "Oh, America, please help us." So Bush creates problems to keep America important.
Me: Bush never says that he hates Muslims. He tries not to talk about Muslims in general--he talks about "radical Muslims" or "al-Qaeda" or things like that.
Uncle: That is because he is very clever with words. But when he says things like this, people don't hear the difference. They just hear "Muslim."
Of course, when we're not talking politics, life in Egypt continues to be a bright flurry of activity. I went this morning to an English serice at an Episcopalian church. Though the service was in English, I'm pretty sure my roommate and I were the only Americans there--there were Sudanese and Ethiopians, South Africans, New Zealanders, lots of Brits...
I then spent the afternoon with my old host family (who I stayed with when I was a student here two years ago) in Imbaba. We ate fish and fresh honey brought up from Upper Egypt, played several rounds of Go Fish, and went shopping in the local market.
Going shopping in Imbaba--possibly the densest neighborhood in a city of 17 million--is a test of toughness and cultural savvy. What would have overwhelmed me to tears two years ago was a thoroughly pleasant outing. Some of my host brothers and sisters are starting school in 3 weeks, so we were shopping for school uniforms. Weaving through a maze of stalls (it got better once we were past the meat and chicken butcher section of the market--I still have to breathe through my mouth whenever we pass by those), I helped them try on skirts and headscarves and window shopped some very chic Muslim-appropriate shirts.
All the while, Nemsa (the host sister who's my age and my closest friend in the family) kept insisting that we take breaks to pound sugarcane juice.
Sugarcane juice might kill me some day, but damn, it is good. It's almost like someone asked the Egyptian society, "How could you more quickly develop Type II Diabetes?" "Ah, I know, we could make sugar juice and sell it for 10 cents on every street corner." This stuff goes down smooth. They serve it in glass steins. You stand at the counter, chug it, and slam the glass down on the table when you're through. Nothing better.
As we waited for some of my host sisters to try on some things, Nesma and I took a seat on some concrete blocks to munch popcorn and rest.
"What's the biggest age difference you think a couple should have?"
"I don't know, maybe 10, 12, 15 years... I've seen it work before. Why?"
Nesma met a 38 year old Canadian Muslim on an Islamic version of Match.com called "Halal girl"--the Islamic equivelant of what "Kosher Girl" would be for the Jewish community.
I asked how her parents felt about this--apparently her mom was partner to the crime, and had been helping Nesma sort through the profiles while her dad was out of town visiting relatives.
His good qualities: He's memorize the Qur'an, has served as an Imam, speaks good Arabic from living in the Persian Gulf for a few years.
Downsides: He apparently has a large nose.
She's very excited about the prospect. As I may or may not have had some brief stints on Match.com and having a few thoughts about older men, I was a good person to discuss this with--although I quickly found that we had some differences in how we thought about relationships.
"He will come to visit me soon, inshahallah."
"Ah, that's very good, Nesma. Sometimes people seem different in person then they do on the internet. Plus, you'll want to know more about his family and his personal history, etc. But maybe there just won't be a spark, too. When did you meet him, by the way?"
"3 days ago."
"wow. Nesma, that's very soon to talk about him coming to visit."
"But the spark doesn't matter. As long as I know we have the same interests and the same mind, we can get married. I would accept. You can learn to love someone. But his nose is very big... hmm.. "
And so it goes.
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