Moments of Ramadan mischief.

Before I bring you the full story of the crackhouse, I wanted to interject with a brief encounter I had with a supervisor of mine today, the first day of Ramadan.
As an aside, here are my Ramadan greetings to you: "Ramadan in Generous!" (You would respond, "God is even more so!") This morning is the first day of fasting, and for many people, it's also marked with a day off from work. Not so for me, but then again, I'm not fasting, so I can't complain.

Actually, I should say that I'm not intentionally fasting, but accidently found myself doing so today--I left for work this morning forgetting that restaurants are closed all day. The cafe at work is closed for the entire month. So much for a lunch break.

Of course, not everyone in Egypt is fasting today. Christians--some 10% of the population--aren't fasting, and there are undoubtedly a number of Muslim Egyptians who are opting out. But everyone respects the month, regardless. I won't eat or drink in front of those who are fasting, for instance, and nor will anyone else who isn't observing Ramadan. For Christians, not fasting is a matter of course. For Muslims who choose not to fast, though, there's room for a lot of quasi-conspiratorial moments as snacks and cigarettes get sneaked behind closed doors. I just witnessed such a moment:

I knocked on the door of a supervisor's office to give her a little half-page write-up I had just done about some negotiations in Iraq. She was on the phone, so she waved me in. There were 3 or 4 other people in the office, all talking amongst themselves and whatnot.
After a few minutes, my supervisor got off the phone and 2 or 3 of the other officials left to go to a meeting. Left are myself, my director, and another colleague who's a friend of my director's and someone I had met briefly once before.

As soon as the door closed and the 3 of us were alone, my director let out a huge sigh of relief. "Who wants coffee?" she asked jubilantly, and promptly began pouring us cups of coffee from a thermos hidden beneath her desk. She had instant coffee, a carton of milk, and a bag of sugar hidden in her purse. She started passing out cigarettes. "Whew," she said, feeling much better. "So, how was your trip this weekend?"

I love my director. There's this certain type of woman in Egypt: 50 years old, chain-smoking, mystics, uncovered hair. They grew up under President Nasser's Egypt, when Egypt was secular and socialist. most of them haven't given in to the society one inch, no matter how popular Islam becomes in the streets. My director said that she hasn't fasted once in the 13 years since she's been working here, and that she's worked out this smuggling system for herself and a few other secularists scattered through the building. Behind closed doors, they smoke and drink coffee whenever they think no one's watching. It was pretty hilarious to share this moment of almost adolescent rebellion with such powerful people. props to them for sticking to their principles--and to those fasting who are doing the same. Peer pressure is such a fixture of the society here (shame/honor and social policing at work), that I really admire those who make choices for themselves, no matter whether they're making a choice to be religiously observant or secular or anything in between.

The biggest difference between my stay in Cairo this time, as opposed to my stint here two years ago, has been my ability to begin to see nuance in the culture. It's been fun and interesting to find these pockets of diverse opinion and lifestyle within Egypt. The country and society appear absolutely monolithic on the surface--unity is the norm and expectation. It took a long time to see any variety at all. Finding that variety has done a lot to help me settle in. Before, I thought the only way to be Egyptian was to be a lower middle class Muslim. Now I'm finding ways that I can--as myself completely--find a legitimate space for myself here within the society.