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(12/03/12 2:30am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>CAIRO — I had never seen a teacher look so nervous. Then again, when you’re bringing in Dr. Mohamed Gouda, one of the head members of the Muslim Brotherhood’s political branch, the Freedom and Justice Party, you’ll probably worry things might get a little tense. My teacher’s fears proved valid, because let me assure you, things did get tense. The timing of Gouda’s visit was uncanny given everything going on in Egypt. It had been intended for weeks that he come talk to us, but he happened to come on the heels of President Mohamed Morsi’s recent controversial decree and the release of the new constitution, which Egyptians will vote on via referendum Dec. 15. Many Egyptians believe the constituent assembly was rendered completely corrupt after nearly all minorities and non-Islamists left in protest to the Islamic slant. They believe the constitution is therefore invalid. Because of this, Egyptians have taken to Tahrir Square in the hundreds of thousands to demand Morsi relinquish his recent power grab and rewrite the constitution with a new assembly. As all of this happened, Gouda sat down to talk to our class and answer questions. The entire session was conducted in Arabic, with a student translating to English for us six international students. It was the most uncomfortable class period of my life. He didn’t veer much from the script. He started with an introduction in which he praised the new constitution, saying it is an amazingly fair and balanced portrayal of the Egyptian peoples’ desires. He boasted that 6 million people had turned up at Cairo University to support Morsi and his constitution. He emphasized that Morsi’s essentially dictatorial powers are temporary. He argued that the liberals in Egypt are divided and want chaos and that they do not appeal to anyone outside of Cairo. He called them “elitist” for not going to the rural areas. As he talked, our translator stopped at one point, shook his head, looked at us and said, “This is all complete bullshit.” Most of the class was devoted to questions. Students didn’t hesitate. One girl, near tears, asked him about women’s rights in the constitution. One clause as currently stands — clause 41 — is designed to protect women’s rights, and she said it’s not enough. Women in Egypt are not equal. Gouda’s response was, essentially, “We are taking that article out. Women are just like any other citizens in this country, and to reinforce this, we don’t want to have any separate section for them.”In Egypt the idea of protecting the minority from being crushed or ostracized by the majority apparently does not exist. Gouda said the Muslim Brotherhood hopes to bring Egypt up in world rankings and double its GDP in the next six years, to which another international student said, “Because that’s attainable.” The discussion went on and got more heated, until students could barely contain themselves from pointing out the disparities between things he was saying and things everyone else was thinking. How can a ruling party be so out of touch with what the rest of the country is thinking? We complain about that in America, but let me assure you, the discrepancies in America are like holes in the ground compared to the Marianas Trench that is the misunderstanding in Egyptian politics. Gouda denied reports that Morsi will step down if the constitution does not pass. He also said without hesitation that Morsi will not bend or compromise on his latest decree. He can’t for fear of being seen as flaky or easy tomanipulate. He will not compromise, although, according to the Muslim Brotherhood member, the liberals don’t want to talk anyway. That’s not how you build the foundation of a country for a diverse populace. That’s how you create revolution. We will be here for the referendum, and more mass protests are scheduled for the upcoming week. They’re going to have to figure something out. — hannsmit@indiana.edu
(11/28/12 4:30am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>CAIRO — Two friends and I went to the massive, anti-Mohamed Morsi protests Tuesday in Tahrir Square.We couldn’t find the words to make a comparison. We took a taxi to the square. The three of us are American, but we met with two adult male Egyptians whom a friend of mine had met last weekend at the protests. They served as our shepherds through the square as it filled with tens of thousands of people. Camera crews hung over balconies of apartments in the buildings surrounding us. Tenants have been renting them out for around $5,000 per day. We could see the burnt scarring on the building where Al Jazeera’s office had been set ablaze a few days ago. The main gate to American University was charred and surrounded by rubble, since it lies on one of the main streets of the fighting. The revolutionary street art, made famous during the Arab Spring, has been painted over nearly every day with new graffiti. Now, it features those who have died in the most recent protests. A shrine near the center of the square features the names of martyrs and flowers strewn in front of it. On side streets, dozens of ambulances waited. The only word we could think of while we were there was “crazy.” It was insanity. Vendors everywhere sold food, drinks, newspapers, flags, teargas and Guy Fawkes masks. People walked around painting Egyptian flags on others’ faces. The longer we stayed, the more crowded it got.A sea of people filled not only the square but the bridges leading toward the island where our dormitory is located. There were more people than we could see. Fighting spontaneously broke out on the side streets. In the main square protesters chanted, “Bread, freedom, social justice.” Their voices echoed off the buildings. The same chant was used during the Revolution. For the most part, the protest didn’t feel hostile, and that was perhaps most surprising. The other girl and I faced less harassment there than we do on typical Cairo streets. Egyptians helped us if they noticed we looked lost. The people were furious, but not at each other. They were furious only at Morsi. Morsi has shown no signs of budging in his latest constitutional decree, and people protest and continue to demand that he step down. Although he met with judges to try to compromise, they didn’t reach a solution. The Cairo judges have gone on strike in response. The people call the president Mohamed Morsi Mubarak, attaching him to the old regime. Tahrir Square was crazy, but just streets away, you wouldn’t know anything was happening. The rest of the city was silent. Outside of Tahrir, Cairo was essentially shut down. Schools were closed, and most people did not go to work. The area where we live was quieter than I’d ever heard it in my waking hours. There wasn’t even the continuous sound of incessant honking.Everyone was either at home or at Tahrir. The Muslim Brotherhood postponed its own protest in hopes of curbing any violent clashes between groups. As night falls, we’ll see if that hope remains true. Things are changing here. No one knows what Morsi is going to do. Will he refuse to back down, or will the people force him out? Do they have the energy to commit another overthrow, or are they too tired? All we can do is wait and see. — hannsmit@indiana.edu
(11/26/12 4:04am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>I never understood how a country could become a dictatorship overnight. I always thought there would be warning signs.In Egypt, there weren’t. We woke up on Thanksgiving in a democracy. By the same time Friday morning, that had changed. On Thursday evening, Morsi passed a sweeping decree giving himself control over the legislative, judicial and executive branches. It forbids anyone to challenge him in any way. Just like that, Egypt slid back three years, to before the revolution. Immediately, people took to the streets. Across Egypt, Muslim Brotherhood offices were set afire by protesters. Tear gas wafted across Tahrir Square, the revolution’s center during the Arab Spring, as tens of thousands of people poured in to demand Morsi step down. In Alexandria, dozens were injured in violent clashes. Similar violence erupted in Port Said, Suez, and at times, Cairo. The media keeps saying that Morsi’s decree is a mixed bag. While he did assume sweeping powers akin to Mubarak, he also said he will retry those officers who injured protestors during the revolution. He extended the deadline for the constitution. His decree made it so that the Muslim Brotherhood-dominated constitutional assembly cannot be dissolved. His timing was uncanny since at the beginning of last week, all of the secularists, Christians and minorities, walked out on the assembly because they could not support its Islamic principles. Now, they can’t come back. On Friday, Morsi’s Coptic Christian presidential aide Sameer Morquos resigned, stating he was not informed and did not agree with Morsi’s decree. Egypt now has no parliament, no constitution and no way to check the power of the president. He said his dictatorial powers are “temporary” and are necessary to “preserve the ideals of the revolution.”Some say these are just natural aftershocks from the revolution. But this isn’t democracy. On the day after he received international applause for his brokering of the Hamas-Israeli ceasefire, Morsi made this decree. He has far overstepped the rights the people gave to him. His actions are straight out of Mubarak’s playbook — or even that of Nasser and Sadat, before him. You declare wide sweeping changes to consolidate power, but you throw in a few populist laws to appease. Those laws don’t mean anything — they’re just a carrot to try and soothe the people. This time, the Egyptian people aren’t buying it. Our dorm has been put on high security. Now, we must sign out every time we leave, even for five minutes, with our phone number and exact destination, in case we need to be reached immediately. Reporters in Tahrir Square who were in it for the long-haul are saying they have not seen protests of this scale since the revolution, or the protests against SCAF, the military council who was put in power a year ago, after Mubarak fell. The protests continue. There is a sit-in in Tahrir Square and another major protest is planned for Tuesday. Protesters say they will sit-in until Morsi gives in. It’s crazy to watch. As we gather in the downstairs area of our dorm and watch the protests unfold, we recognize streets. We know the names of the buildings that are on fire. One street where the main fighting is occurring is the entrance to American University’s downtown campus, where we go to school. There’s a chance it will fizzle out. There’s a chance this will be like many other protests here, and it will lose momentum, leaving things to settle into business as usual. Personally, I think Egyptians need to fight. I think they need to do whatever it takes to make sure that they get the democracy so many died for just in the past several years. Morsi is not “protecting the revolution” with this decree. He’s pulling the trigger on a second one. — hannsmit@indiana.edu
(11/13/12 3:54am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>In Egypt, the one cultural aspect that remains most different from American culture is dating. Dating in Egypt bears next to no resemblance to dating in the States. A few girls here have started dating Egyptians. Every time, all of us are left with questions and confusion, because it’s hard for us to wrap our heads around the differences. The easiest way to explain it is that it’s like going back in time to high school. For many Egyptians, the first time they’re allowed to interact with the opposite sex without supervision is at university, so the time lag makes sense. Genders here are, for the most part, strictly segregated throughout public schooling.It’s kind of like a game, more so than in the States. A male Egyptian friend of mine told me it’s a struggle for power in the relationship. The guy will call and call and call, and the girl isn’t supposed to answer most of the time. Then he’ll just stop to test you. In Egypt, when you date or before dating, the guy will call the girl every day after school. You’ll talk on Facebook, using as many emotions as you can possibly jam into one conversation. Grand gestures are big here, so guys will write gushing notes about their feelings or show up at the dorm saying they “have to see you right now.” Just a few weeks ago, a stranger gave us a love note for a girl inside our dorm, begging us to bring it to her, although we’d never met either of them. Subjects like religion or family are brought up early on in order to make sure nothing conflicts. As most of us here are not Muslim, and most Egyptians are Muslim, that can get awkward really fast. You go on dates. You hold hands. At some point, you kiss. But a kiss here means so much more than a kiss in America. I think most IU students would agree that kisses and even more-than-kisses aren’t of much value to the average college student. In the States, you can kiss someone and never see them again if you want to. Here, a kiss can often be a contract to date that person. Of course, it’s better than some other Middle Eastern countries. In Saudi Arabia, for example, there are no movie theaters. Why? There’s no way to keep genders separated in a dark theater, and they’re afraid young couples might get frisky once the lights dim. None of us know how far relationships can be pushed here. Can you kiss? When do you kiss? If you kiss, are you automatically dating? We’ve had to almost unlearn the things that college has taught us about dating. I know the hardest thing for me to do has been to operate under strict and separate gender roles. For example, a few weeks ago I was at a bar with a guy. We were talking, but then he looked past me at another guy and started going off in rapid-fire Arabic. The only part I caught was, “I don’t want there to be a problem.”Once he was done, I asked him what happened. “He was looking at you, when you are clearly with me,” he said. I replied, “I am not ‘with’ you.” “No, I know,” he said. “But because you are physically with me right now, it’s my job to defend you.”I literally could not, in the moment, think of a response to that. Some of the girls here like it. As a friend of mine said, “I don’t want to like it, but I have to admit, it’s kind of nice.”Personally, I can’t make up my mind. It grates against everything I’ve come to believe about gender roles, sexuality and relationships in general. It’s so constricting and narrow-minded. On the other hand, there’s a level of respect in the relationships here that I have rarely seen in the States. I can’t decide if it is truly respectful or if it’s just demeaning to females. In the realm of romantic relations especially, I am all for liberalism and gender equality, more so perhaps than some people. I just keep reminding myself that it’s different here. Just as much as the food or the societal structure is strange to us, so are the dating habits. Whether for better or worse, it’s just different.
(11/06/12 2:55am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Before I came to Egypt, I never understood what it’s like to be stereotyped based on your skin color. I knew such profiling existed. We all know that. But it’s different to know it rather than live it. After having lived it for only two months, I cannot fathom what it’s like to live it every day. I do know that after only two months, I snapped to the point of slapping someone.I’m a white female. I’m short. I have brown hair. In America, I blend. Here, in Egypt, my skin tone and facial features make me a walking target. Bear in mind that I’m talking about generalities. The feelings vary from Egyptian to Egyptian, but, in general, the standard Egyptian man sees American women as three things. Hot, easy and always ready to go. Because we look different, the harassment we endure is worse than that of an Egyptian woman on an average day. In Alexandria, a father harassed my friend and I in front of his own children, who laughed when he did so. Alexandria was bad, but it was in Cairo that I slapped someone.When I was trying to hail a taxi one evening, a group of boys swarmed me. They all started trying to touch my skin and ask my name.I ignored them, but, at one point, one of the guys grabbed me and tried to force me to kiss him. I didn’t even think about it. I just reached up and slapped him. In hindsight, that was not the best choice. But it worked at the time, and they scattered. Street harassment is an issue for all women here. But for Western women, stereotypes in place convince some men we are willing to have sex with whomever, wherever. That’s something no one should assume under any circumstances in any culture. It absolutely disgusts me. The stereotyping extends beyond sexual harassment in less dire ways.People also assume that because we’re Western, we speak no Arabic. Egyptians will openly talk about us in Arabic while we’re there. The looks on their faces are priceless when we respond in Arabic. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to not be stared at. When I went to Greece for the holiday, one of the most disconcerting aspects was how people didn’t notice me, didn’t take pictures or make comments. It was disconcerting in a good way. I hadn’t noticed until then how accustomed I’ve become to being the outlier. We all have. As I said, I’ve only lived it for two months. I keep imagining growing up like this or having to constantly combat peoples’ preconceived notions of who you are and where you come from based on the one thing you can’t help: your genetics.I can barely begin to imagine, because at the end of the day, I do get to go home and blend in. But I know I’ll never forget what that profiling feels like.
(10/30/12 3:17am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>For the first time since going to Egypt, I’m going to leave the country. For the Muslim holiday Eid-al-Adha, I’m flying to Greece, where my family is from. I’m going to try to do something no one in my family has done before. I’m going to try to go back to the village where my family started. It’s kind of a crazy story. One of my aunts set me up with a third cousin in Canada who goes back every year. She, in turn, set me up with relatives in Athens, who I plan to call and meet upon arriving. I will hopefully find out how to get to the tiny village in the mountains.It’s something I’ve always wanted to do — to go back to Greece, even if going to the village falls through.After living in the Egyptian culture for two months, I’ve been more convinced to go back to Greece. I’ve never in my life been so aware of my ethnicity. I’ve always thought of myself as a good ol’ fashioned, American mutt. My grandmother on my father’s side is as Greek as they come, but my grandpa is a cigar-smoking American veteran. My mom’s side is Swedish, Jewish and Irish. If we’re talking percentages, I’m mostly Greek. Although I grew up eating Greek food and have gone to a few crazy Greek weddings, I’ve never considered myself to be primarily Greek. In Egypt, that’s changed. When we meet Egyptians, one of the first things we are asked is where are we from. We respond, “America.”One time, a man laughed at me and said, “No, but where are you really from?”The only answer I have is Greece. Generally, in the Middle East, roots are of paramount importance. I think it’s hard, as Americans. We don’t really have an ethnic identity in the same way. If we do, it’s created based on countries of our ancestors, but it almost always comes second to “American.”But what does that even mean? If you identify yourself as American, what are you identifying with? It’s not an ethnicity. Does “being American” mean you agree with the government? The policies? You agree with the ideals set forth in the Constitution?It’s complicated. Because if you don’t agree with those things, where does that leave you?Here, it’s totally different. If you’re talking to someone from the Middle East, they never just say, “I’m Arab,” or “ I’m from the Middle East.” They say, “I’m Pakistani.” “I’m Iraqi.” “I’m Egyptian.” Where they live is irrelevant. It’s where they’re from that counts. Egyptians love their home country like no other people I’ve seen.They know Egypt has problems. They’ll admit to that. Egyptians will even joke about how badly they want to leave, but in the end, they nearly always say the same thing.“But I couldn’t leave,” they say. “I love it too much.”In a lot of ways, I’m envious. I’ve never really felt that compulsion to identify with a geological place, including America. I love America and am infinitely glad I grew up there, but there are so many things I disagree with. I don’t have the same dedication to my country as I see here in Egypt. It must be nice to be so certain of where you come from. I’m excited to go back to Greece. I’m hoping to have one of those moments, so perhaps I can understand.
(10/22/12 3:28am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>If there’s one thing I can say for Egypt, politics and stereotypes aside, it’s that the food is delicious. I hadn’t heard of most of the food I now eat daily before I came here, but I know it’s going to be a struggle to go back to American food. I eat tamaya and fuul everyday. Tamaya is an Egyptian version of falafel made with fava beans instead of chickpeas. Fuul is a spiced bean paste, kind of like refried beans. You eat both with flatbread similar to pita. About once a week, I go out for koshari. The unofficial national dish of Egypt is made with macaroni, rice, tomato sauce, lentils and fried onions mixed together in a bowl. Here, fresh juice is common. You can order a glass of mango juice at a shop, and they’ll grind the mango right in front of you, creating a pulp that you eat with a spoon and straw. Sugar cane juice is an Egyptian favorite. There’s shawarma, which is comparable to a gyro, but spicier. Pigeon is a common meat. You can get essentially anything in fig flavor. It’s all good, and it’s cheap. The exchange rate here is 6 Egyptian pounds to $1. I eat on about $5 a day, which couldn’t even buy me one Chipotle burrito in Bloomington.Food is one of the things I’ve enjoyed most here. It’s an integral part of Egyptian culture. Our Arabic teachers cook for us. Egyptians spend a huge chunk of time eating or drinking tea in cafés and restaurants. Everything seems to revolve around meals and eating. However, because of all the eating I’ve been doing, mostly at less-than-clean eating establishments, something is now eating me.The doctors here aren’t quite sure what. I’ve been sick on and off for most of this trip. They warned us this would happen before we left the States. Tap water here is rampant with sickness-causing bacteria and parasites. The food washed in that tap water is subsequently contaminated. Things are rarely refrigerated, and meat is allowed to hang outside in the sun all day. It’s not surprising that we’ve gotten sick. However, most kids recovered within a few weeks. Rather than getting better, my stomach started to swell. I decided that it might be a good idea to go see someone about it. For the next few days, I’m on five medications: one for parasitic infection, one for bacterial infection, one for fungal infection and the other two to reduce the swelling. Another girl at the clinic received four types of medicine for a similar problem. Welcome to study abroad.The medical system here is very different from in America. I have no idea what medicines I am consuming. When I asked, they simply said, “It will make you feel better.” The writing on the package is in Arabic. Back home, as you know, there are advertisements for medicine with the 20-second spiel of side effects. Doctors carefully explain the options for medicine and ask which you’d prefer. Here, you take what you get, and you don’t throw a fit. Of course, the doctors we visit have been approved by American University. They’re legitimate. But I could walk into any pharmacy here and get the same drugs without a prescription. There’s no screening process or questioning. The medicine, like the food, kind of feels like a shot in the dark every time. Personally, I’m just hoping it works. They say local medicines are better cures for local illness, and my American medicine hasn’t touched this sickness. Here’s hoping that phrase holds true. — hannsmit@indiana.edu
(10/15/12 2:10am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>As of this week, my time in Cairo is halfway through. Two months ago, I was boarding a plane, terrified of becoming lost in half dozen airports and about what waited upon landing here. Now, I can’t imagine going back. In fact, I can’t really imagine home at all. All of us international students are starting to realize just how much we’ve changed in the time we’ve been here. It no longer scares me to be clipped by side mirrors on cars as they rush by on the narrow streets. I cross six-lane roads without much hesitation. It doesn’t faze me to see donkeys pulling loads of fruit or straw behind them on the highway. Arabic words are starting to mix into our every day speech. “InshaAllah” for hopefully. “Shukran” for thank you. “AlhamduAllah” as an expression of thanks or gratefulness. We’re used to bartering and flagging taxis. We’re used to riots every Friday and car crashes on a semi-regular basis. Some of us are used to getting sick from food poisoning after about one of every three meals we eat. I no longer notice the heat. In fact, the other day I felt cold in my room, and when I checked the temperature it was 75 degrees Fahrenheit. I think that was the moment that disturbed me the most. We’ve started settling into a routine of school of studying and socializing, but that’s dangerous. There’s still so much stuff left to see. Last weekend I went to Alexandria, Egypt, for the first time on a field trip, but I already want to go back. I want to go down to the Sudanese border to see the great temples at Abu Simbel. I want to go to Sharm el-Sheik and scale Mount Sinai. For Eid, a Muslim holiday, we have a week break, and I’m going to Athens, Greece. There, I am going to attempt to find the village where my family is originally from. That’s an adventure in and of itself. And there are still things to see in Cairo. I want to see the citadel and Ibn Tulun mosque. I want to go to City of the Dead, a massive cemetery now inhabited by entire families hired to watch the grave sites. I still have to ride a camel. I’ve seen the pyramids. I went to Memphis, Egypt, and saw the massive statue of Ramses II. I’ve gone to classes and taken midterms. I’ve smoked shisha out of a coconut with a group of Egyptian friends in an all-male bar. I’ve drunk enough mango juice to fill the Red Sea, which I have now swum in. I have toured mosques and churches. I got lost in the maze that is Khan al-Khalily, an old, Aladdin-style market in Islamic Cairo. I’ve eaten koshari, tamaiyya — the Egyptian version of falafel — and fuul nearly every day. I’ve gotten caught in the Free Syria protests in Tahrir Square, and I’ve found out I’m worth approximately 10,000 camels to the average Egyptian street vendor. So far, I think I’ve spent my time here very well, but I know I’m not going to be ready to leave in December. Don’t get me wrong — I am so excited to see my family and friends again, to be able to drink the tap water, to be able to travel alone as a woman. But I also know I could live here for years and never be done with Egypt. — hannsmit@indiana.edu
(10/09/12 3:32am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>In case you haven’t heard, Cairo is a pretty big city. “Pretty big” means that the city itself houses nine million people, and the metropolitan area is the 16th largest in the world, home to 30 million people, Africa’s largest. Basically, it’s massive. Massive amounts of people come with massive problems, environmentally speaking. The other day I was really excited because the sky was overcast. I thought to myself, “Is it seriously going to rain today?” The rainy season in Egypt is in the spring, so this made no sense to me. Then, I realized those weren’t clouds. It was smog.There’s a time of year in Cairo called “black cloud season,” and it begins in late September or early October. It’s a several month period in which a literal black cloud descends over the city, and the smog becomes so thick all of the buildings seem hidden behind a layer of what looks like fog, even when you’re walking. Black cloud season is caused by farmers burning crops at the end of harvest, creating huge excesses of smoke. This, combined with the fact that most people burn their trash here and cars idle in traffic for hours at a time, makes for some mean pollution. Also, factor in the time of year. As the seasons change from summer to fall and winter, strong winds blow across the Nile River valley, where Cairo is located. Those winds are so strong that the smog becomes trapped in the canyon, unable to rise. Of course, it’s not just air pollution that’s bad in Cairo. Trash is everywhere, and I’m not talking just litter. I’m talking mountains of trash in the middle of the sidewalk, up to my waist, mixed with animal and human feces and sand. President Mohammed Morsi has declared an initiative, the “100 day plan” of 64 goals to clean up Cairo he hopes to accomplish in his first 100 days in office.We’ve yet to see anything in our neighborhood, and ours is one of the nicest in Cairo. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to smell clean, fresh air. I’ve forgotten how blue the sky can be. I always see it through smog here.It’s become normal to me for the water to literally change color when I wash my hands. Everything I touch is so filthy — the money, especially. Every time we go out to eat here, I think of my mother. I know she’d be appalled by what she’d see. Slabs of meat hang outside shops marked for sale, covered in flies and bees. Bread stands are set up right next to the highway, so the exhaust rolls over them. Most of the time, when eating, you can feel the grit of sand or dirt when you chew. My mother, who wouldn’t even let me eat raw cookie dough as a child, would have a heart attack. I never realized before exactly how sterile America is when it comes to these things. We are paranoid about food sanitation to the point of near insanity, and we have a totally different definition of dirty.It’s hard to get used to, the smog especially. A permanent sore throat and clogged sinuses have become part of the deal with studying here. Don’t get me wrong. The food is delicious, even though I’ve been sick more times than I can count. The city and culture are beautiful.But the smog? There’s really nothing I can say to defend that.
(10/01/12 3:47am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>It’s a very odd feeling to be married at 20. It’s even weirder when your husband doesn’t actually exist. For the last five weeks, I’ve been living a lie. In Egypt, I’m married.One of the first things us women were taught upon arriving is to always say you are married when asked. Some girls here have even taken to wearing wedding rings when they leave the dorm. Being “married” gives us freedom. Marriage is one of the Middle Eastern issues that Westerners misconstrue.When people think of marriage in Egypt, they think of harems and abuse. It’s thought of as something young girls are forced into, usually with much older men. Those are all by far exceptions to the norm, and I’m pretty sure that last one occurs as often in America as here. I won’t deny that marriage here is viewed much differently than in America. It’s interesting because in the States, marriage is often seen as a trap. It’s something to put off for as long as possible in order to maintain freedom.In Egypt, people marry to gain freedom. If you’re a married woman in Egypt, you can travel alone. The harassment drops off drastically if men see you wearing a ring.Marriage is also a means of freedom from family. Even in college, the vast majority of students live with their families. Upon getting married, you can finally leave the nest. Plus, premarital sexual relations of any kind are illegal in Egypt. They still occur, but at drastically lower rates.By the time you reach your early twenties, who wouldn’t be willing to marry if it meant finally having freedom? Of course, there is one distinct difference in marriage between the States and here. In Egypt, polygamy is legal. The Quran, or the Muslim holy book, allows polygamy. Each man is allowed to have up to four wives, and this remains true in Egypt today.Wives are not allowed to marry more than once due to the issue of knowing who the father of her children would be.DNA testing wasn’t really a thing in Quranic times. Legally, the first wife must be notified and approve before this occurs. They are allowed to divorce if they find the situation intolerable.In fact, Islam was the first religion to allow divorce. The regulations for divorce are outlined in the Quran, along with basically what constitutes alimony laws for the divorcees. It’s one of the first documents that clearly outlines a woman’s rights in the case of divorce, which many find hard to believe, but it’s true. Woman’s rights were not nearly as advocated for in the Bible. Today, polygamy is rare, but it happens, even in Cairo. At first, this really appalled the feminist in me. But, given the social status of women here, it makes sense to consider this option. I don’t think I could ever do it, and the vast majority of Egyptian women agree, but it makes a little more sense if you try and see it that way.I’m not going to say I understand completely. I can’t imagine having to think about a husband or family on top of taking care of myself.Fortunately, mine are imaginary. — hannsmit@indiana.edu
(09/27/12 1:36am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>You’d think not having school would be awesome. I’ve never been a huge fan of school. I’ve always seen it as means to an end, both in high school and college. But now, in Cairo, a student strike preventing classes is stretching into its second week.Not having school is awful.It wouldn’t be so bad if we had known in advance what days we’d have off, or for how long, because then we could have traveled.As it is now, we’re kind of on call. We have to stay in Cairo on the off chance that campus suddenly opens. We’ve been told the earliest campus will open again is Sunday. Many teachers suspect it will stretch on longer. Some teachers are going to extra lengths to have classes, asking us to congregate in the dorms or in coffee shops. Some professors will even drive to the dorms to personally pick up their students and take them to class.However, the real concern, at least for us international students, is whether our credits here will now transfer.American University in Cairo President Lisa Anderson said in an email that every semester must consist of 15 weeks of classes in order to be complete.As it stands, we’ve already lost two of those weeks and probably will lose more. When are those classes going to be made up?Anderson acknowledged the fact that they can’t make the semester longer at the end because the international students already have flights home. We have Tuesdays off normally, so classes can meet then, but many of us have weekends booked with travel from now until finals. Will we have to choose between academics or travel? The administration has been in meetings with the students for several weeks now. The only remaining points of contention are the tuition raise of 7 percent for this school year and the disciplinary action that will be taken against students in the protests. Protesters demand that the tuition increase be taken away for the current year, which the school cannot do because it’s already part of the budget. Protesters don’t want disciplinary action to be taken against the students at all, but those students directly violated the school’s policies.Violence has erupted in the protests at AUC. Students have attacked staff and vice versa. Students protesting even attacked students who attempted to hop the locked gates to get to class. The school cannot stand back and just let that happen without consequence. But if they don’t appease the protesters, classes might never resume.There’s no way to win, and I have no idea what the school should even do in this situation. My fellow international students and I are staying out of it, but it’s fascinating to see. Things like this just don’t happen in the United States. I simply cannot imagine IU shutting down because of a student demonstration. Here, the students managed to get enough power to make negotiations possible.It was interesting for a while, but international students, myself included, came here to go to school. It would be nice if we could actually do that. But this is all part of the study abroad process. Coming in, we knew things were going to be different. Maybe we’re learning as much by not having class as we would from classes themselves.
(09/24/12 2:40am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>One month into my study abroad, I should know better than to think that any trip in Egypt will go according to plan.This past Friday, most of the international students embarked on a trip through the school to Ain Sokhna, a resort town on the Red Sea coast near Sinai. It sounded fun and was free, so I decided to go. I thought it would be a good chance to get away from the city. The first few days went surprisingly well. We spent Friday on a beautiful beach surrounded by desert mountains. The seawater was so clear we could see the ocean floor, and we could see the Sinai coast across the water.On Saturday, we went to St. Anthony’s Monastery, the oldest monastery in the world. We hiked to a mountain behind it, in the middle of the desert. We loaded our buses that night and prepared to make the two-hour trek home. At the same time, what we believe was a petrol truck exploded on the one road we needed to get home. Perhaps the driver finished a cigarette and threw the butt out the window, or a passerby discarded his or her cigarette. Despite an iron tank, this somehow managed to set the petrol on fire.As one of our Egyptian orientation leaders said, “Welcome to Egypt.” Traffic was shut down in both directions and we were forced to sit in traffic for hours. Eventually, our leaders made the call that we would spend another night at the hotel and leave in the morning. Of course, we couldn’t simply turn around and drive back. Traffic was gridlocked.We had to walk about a kilometer, or 0.62 miles, at night in one of the more dangerous parts of Egypt. An armed security guard escorted us. We had to walk in three lines — girls in the middle with guys on either side. It went smoothly and nothing of much interest happened, aside from jokes and stares from the Egyptians watching this parade.The next day, we set off again for Cairo. The two-hour trip took about four hours. When we arrived, we all had received an email from American University. The email said classes on campus were shut down indefinitely due to student protests. The students have reached an impasse with the administration, and security is refusing to back the administration because the students supported a security strike last year. You’d think they’d call in the police. They can’t — the police are at odds with the university’s private security. It’s the administration versus everyone else. In an attempt to stop the students from locking the gates, American University President Lisa Anderson had all of the gates removed. There’s a bit of irony to that.The prim and put-together Anderson was forced to climb and hop the same gates last week in order to meet with administrators. I would have paid money to witness that. When some students discovered the missing gates, they bought new ones, had them installed and proceeded to lock those. The students who can’t afford a 7-percent tuition increase somehow found a way to afford new gates for the school.Welcome to Egypt, indeed. The most shocking thing to me is how this no longer shocks the rest of us. Students protesting, armed escorts — it’s our new normal. It takes a lot to faze us now, and we’re only one month in. That being said, Egypt usually finds a way to get a rise out of us. Even if it takes a blazing truck.— hannsmit@indiana.edu
(09/20/12 2:54am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>When the protests in Tahrir Square ended, we all thought we could breathe a sigh of relief.At school on Sunday, we were proved wrong. I wasn’t feeling well, I hadn’t slept enough and I couldn’t convince myself to do the one-hour commute to campus at 7 a.m. Sorry, Mom. It turned out I had made the right call. A group of students had decided to shut down our campus.This past year, tuition at American University in Cairo went up 7 percent. Some students say that amounts to about 10,000 Egyptian pounds, or $1,500. To an American student, that doesn’t sound so bad. To the Egyptian students, it’s apparently intolerable. When the buses got to campus Sunday, they were forced to stop. A mob of students stood in the parking lot outside the front gates.Unbeknownst to the university, they had chained the gates to the parking lot shut.It was a demonstration against the tuition increase. Classes were canceled.To quote my mother, it was like an “Egyptian snow day.” The ringleaders were suspended and all students received a stern email from the university. Flyers were strewn around campus with the simple message, “Wait for Thursday.” Thursday, the stage has been set for an even bigger protest. This protest is controversial, even among students, because the protesters are some of the richest kids in the Middle East.American University is one of the most expensive schools in the Middle East. The kids protesting aren’t the kids on scholarships, because scholarship students don’t pay for their tuition. My roommate is an Egyptian student here on scholarship.“If these kids can afford 100,000 pounds a year, they can afford 110,000,” she told me. “It’s not that big a difference at that level. They can give up an iPhone for a year.”Many international students, myself included, are inclined to agree. On the other hand, there might be something to be admired here. Think of all the tuition increases we undergo in America. One American girl in my political science class told the class Thursday that her tuition back home went up 30 percent in the past year alone.What did kids at her school do?They applied for more financial aid or took out loans. Nobody protested. Egyptian students believe if they protest unceasingly, the administration will have to cave. They hope things can be changed for the interests of the majority. I have to admit I admire that kind of hope and determination. Perhaps in America we’ve become complacent. Maybe we assume protesting won’t do any good.Egyptians are still riding the wave of the revolution where they had extreme success through protests. It makes sense that if they’re not happy about something, like the tuition increases, they’d protest. Why don’t we have that same belief in the U.S.?
(09/17/12 2:31am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>CAIRO — There is a bridge on our island, Zamalek, which leads directly into Tahrir Square. We decided to walk across the bridge Friday morning. As soon as we stepped out of our dorm and began walking, we could tell that something had changed. Groups of men gathered on sidewalks for the noontime prayer. An anonymous voice blasted through loudspeakers across the island, different from the usual call to prayer. It was in Arabic, and he kept talking about “the day of Egypt.” All the men at the prayer gatherings were listening to him on radios. While we walked, we noticed the roadblocks. Barricades had appeared overnight, blocking traffic to the secondary roads on our island and guarded by even more police than we usually see. As we approached the base of the bridge, we began to see the riot police. About a dozen armored trucks were scattered along the roads, each with half a dozen soldiers in black uniforms bearing automatic weapons. The eeriest sight was the bridge itself. We take this bridge frequently by cab and bus. It’s the type of bridge that usually has five lanes of traffic trying to go six different ways on the two-lane road. On Friday, there were at most five cars driving across.Later, we would learn protesters in the square had barricaded the bridge to use it as an escape from police. We made it to the edge of the square but no farther before we turned around. We could see a great mass of people being dropped off by cabs at the end of the bridge. One boy walked past us, holding his dad’s hand while a black Islamic flag fluttered in his other. He was only 5 or 6 years old. On Friday, something about this situation changed.So much confusion surrounds these events. Is it about a crazy filmmaker? Is it about revolutionaries who want to settle scores with the police? Arab nationalists who hate America? Muslims versus Christians and Jews? It’s complicated, but I think it comes down to one main thing. It’s about a country whose people are stuck in a stagnant state when they thought they’d already won the battle for change. In the Arab Spring, Egyptians fought and died for freedom, democracy and equal rights. What they’ve been left with is a democracy many believe to be fraudulent, a police force that’s just as brutal as it was before, further reliance on outside nations and more dangerous streets for everyone. There’s a water shortage. There’s a fuel crisis growing daily. There are mountains of trash in the streets. Who wouldn’t be frustrated? Why did so many die if nothing were to come of it but the same old story?Some blame the U.S. or Israel. Some blame radical filmmakers. Some blame vocal minorities. Some blame the police. In the end, it’s evolved into the same sort of frustration. An uneasy calm has fallen here, and protesters have dispersed five days after the protests started. It’s uncertain whether it will last. I don’t think the protests will stop until the people receive the change they’ve been demanding for nearly two years. The hard part is, change is something Egyptians have to achieve for themselves. No one outside can help them get there. America has tried before and, more often than not, we’ve made things worse. I’m not saying that resorting to violence or murder is the way to get there. That is never acceptable. The overwhelming majority of Egyptians don’t think it is, either, and they despise that it’s gone to that. I just hope the Middle Eastern governments don’t miss the message their people are trying to send.Change must come. — hannsmit@indiana.eduRecent activity in CairoWHO: American University in Cairo students who pay tuition WHAT: Students protest against the recent 7 percent raise in annual tuitionWHEN: There was a strike on campus Thursday. Students did a sit-in in one of the administrative buildings’ courtyards. On Sunday, students chained the gates to the university parking lot and blocked entry to the lot with their cars. Buses with students and faculty members could not enter. The protest started at about 8 a.m. in Cairo and was disbanded by 11 a.m., yet school was still shut down.
(09/14/12 1:39am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>CAIRO — I don’t really know how to describe what it feels like to see your host country’s people burn your home nation’s flag. The best word I can come up with is “stunning.” In the last couple days, protests have broken out across the Middle East and in Cairo in particular, 10 minutes away from my dormitory.It’s all people are talking about. American international students are caught in the middle. We’re not Egyptians, but we’ve come to love this country and its people. Of course, we also love America. We didn’t think we’d have to choose between the two. It started with one man who produced a film depicting the Prophet Muhammad in a degrading way. I’ve seen the film, and it is offensive. This film was distributed to the Arab media outlets, which aired it on state television. But now it’s so much more complicated than a film. First of all, let me clear up a few things. The riots, to our knowledge, had nothing to do with the anniversary of Sept. 11, at least in Egypt. Sept. 11 simply isn’t a recognized day outside the United States. The fact that the riots started on Sept. 11 was something noticed after the fact.Second, the U.S. press is dramatizing how things are here. Classes and work are continuing. The rest of the country is functioning normally as of now, aside from Tahrir. There is a million-man march planned for today, so we’ll see if that comes to pass. Every day, we get email after email from the U.S. Embassy, the state department and American University. Parents and friends back home have been sending frantic emails.For the record, all of the students here are safe and sound. But the true story isn’t about a film. It’s about a clash of two cultures, American and Egyptian, that have never really taken the time to figure the other out.Our classes are ongoing, but the curriculum has stopped in many of them. Instead, we debate the situation. Egyptian protestors have essentially three demands. They want America to ban the film and arrest the man behind it, and they want Egypt to revoke citizenship of the U.S. ambassador and of those Egyptians who may have helped fund or make the film. Most Egyptians don’t understand why America can do none of these things. In my journalism class, I found myself trying to explain free speech to them.“Why can this man say these hateful things?” they asked me. “Why doesn’t America stop him?” The thing is, Egyptians have never lived in a country where speech is free. The entire concept is not on their radar, at least not to the same extent it is on ours. Most think free speech has limits. On the other hand, Americans don’t understand why this film is so offensive. They don’t understand that while Americans view the riots as an unjustified attack on what we deem free speech, Egyptians view our free speech as an attack on their religious freedoms. It is a messy situation. Messy and muddy, and right now the rumors are flying so fast it is hard to know what’s true, even in the Western press. There is a lot of speculation. Some say the Muslim Brotherhood is behind it in an attempt to garner unity from a country that has yet to fully accept their new president. Others say America is using the death of U.S. Ambassador to Libya Chris Stevens as means to become involved again in the region we just left war torn. What I think we have to be really careful about is not to jump to conclusions and stereotypes. The Muslims here are angry about the film, but many are even more angry about the protests. Violent actions cause the culture to slip back into the stereotype of the Muslim terrorist. I asked the Egyptians in my class not to do the same thing to us, judging us by one man who made a movie. You can’t judge a nation by its outliers. I know it looks bad. But let’s wait it out. More of the Egyptians are against the violence in the protests than are for it. But the ones who are against it don’t get the attention. — hannsmit@indiana.edu
(09/10/12 3:44am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>If you go to Tahrir Square in Cairo today, it’s as if the revolution never stopped.The square itself is a plot of dust and dirt surrounded by highway. Graffiti depicting elaborate images from the revolution coats the sides of buildings. People must still climb over massive stone roadblocks to get from one side to the other. Every Friday, there are still protests. Tahrir gained fame as the location for major protests during the Arab Spring. Similar protests in Tunisia, Libya and Yemen resulted in the overthrow of government power.It forced changes in the government here in Cairo, but for one group of people, the view now is much the same as before. Women in the Middle East are some of the most misunderstood people in the world. In the West, we see them as exotic and suppressed products of abuse, forced to do as men say. There’s more myth to this than truth, at least in Egypt.Women here, for the most part, do not cover themselves because a man tells them to. They cover their hair or body out of respect for themselves and their religion as a personal choice. Some of them even bedazzle their burqas with rhinestones so personality still comes through, but with modesty. Several Egyptian women I’ve spoken to believe Western women are the oppressed ones. They want to ask us to look at how we have to dress to please men in tight dresses, high heels and makeup.Many Westerners also talk about how the Egyptian government suppresses women. It is made up primarily of a conservative Islamic group, the Muslim Brotherhood. Women here don’t deny there is some truth to this, but I’ll never forget what one Egyptian woman said to me when I asked her about it. “What about that man, Akin?” she asked, referring to the recent scandal with U.S. Rep. Todd Akin, R-Mo. She laughed and said, “Americans keep going on about how women have no rights here, but look at who you put in office.”She’s not saying women in Cairo are treated equally, because they aren’t. She’s just asking, don’t we have similar issues in America? It has been a difficult experience for us female international students. We typically can’t walk places alone, particularly at night. Street harassment is a daily occurrence. I’ve been catcalled by men, brushed against by one man and hissed at by police officers. Fortunately, few of us have yet to experience the pinching or groping most Egyptian women face during their lives here.It’s so frustrating because there’s no place to report it. Where would you go? What would they do? All you can rely on is for passersby to come to your aid. They almost always will, both men and women.I spoke recently with a student at my university who participated heavily in the mass protests in Tahrir. She is an Egyptian journalism student. During the Arab Spring, she was hit with tear gas and shot at. Every day she took the bus to Tahrir, skipping classes and sleeping in the square on weekends.I asked her what kind of Egypt she wants to see. She told me she wants an Egypt where she can walk down the street without fear. Where she can travel alone. Where she can work in television while wearing a hijab. She has been denied internships before because of her headscarf.She wants equality, and she told me she was willing to die for that idea. Freedom for others would be worth the sacrifice. She’s a Middle Eastern woman, a conservative Muslim, and she’s one of the strongest women to whom I’ve ever spoken. The women here aren’t weak. They’re not submissive, even when society wants them to be. They’re tough, and they’re strong, because they have to be. All of us Western women do them and our gender a disservice to overlook that. - hannsmit@indiana.eduLooking back: Egypt's revolutionAlthough Egypt’s revolution technically lasted only 18 days, major events continue to shape politics and society from 2011-12.2011 Jan. 25 Protests against President Hosni Mubarak begin in Cairo and other Egyptian cities for the “Day of Revolt.”Jan. 28 The “Friday of Rage” protests take place in Tahrir Square despite government censorship of social media websites used to plan the rally. Feb. 11 Mubarak resigns. Field Marshal Hussein Tantawi and the Egyptian army serve as an interim government,Feb. 12 Egypt’s constitution is suspended, and parliament is dissolved.March 19 A new constitution is approved with 77.2 percent of Egyptians in favor.June 6 The political party formed by the Muslim Brotherhood is legalized.June 29 More than 1,000 people are injured after a conflict between protestors and police in Tahrir Square.July 29 Over 100,000 Islamists gather in Tahrir Square.Aug. 3 Mubarak, his two sons, former interior minister Habib al-Adly and six police commanders go on trial for the deaths of protestors during the 18-day revolt.Nov. 28-9Islamist parties win three-quarters of parliamentary seats in Egypt’s first election since the uprisings.2012Jan. 21Muhammad Saad al-Katatni of the Muslim Brotherhood is elected by parliament as its speaker during the first People’s Assembly.May 23-4 Egypt has its first free presidential elections.June 2 Mubarak and al-Adly are sentenced to life in prison for allowing the killing of protestors. More than 850 people died during the revolution.June 20 Mubarak is moved from a prison hospital and said to be in a coma.June 24Mohammed Morsi of the Muslim Brotherhood is declared the winner of the presidential election.Aug. 2 Morsi swears in members of his first cabinet.
(09/04/12 2:47am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Every day, those of us living in the city take an hour-long bus ride to campus in the suburb of New Cairo. Our bus driver honks incessantly, as do all the drivers. Eventually, we cross a bridge over the Nile, along with a stream of cars. After that bridge, we drive through the slums.It’s poverty like I’ve never seen. The houses here are tall but are made from what looks like mud and brick. Kids pick through mountains of trash. American University in Cairo is very wealthy. It’s sometimes easy to forget the fact that we are living in a place that is classified as a third-world or developing country, but it’s starting to show. Last week there was a major water shortage. Water was shut off to our campus for several days, meaning no drinking water or toilet water. Even bottled water is scarce in some areas.A few days ago, we went to Giza to see the pyramids. Horses and donkeys pulled carts of produce or textiles. One man led a camel across a fast-paced street amid honks and shouts in Arabic. Women in niqabs walked toward shops or side roads, dragging children along behind them.The pyramids were beautiful and bigger than any of us could have envisioned. We saw the sphinx and took pictures next to camels or sitting on pyramid blocks.But what I noticed most were the people at the base — the vendors. Street children here are common. They are often without birth certificates or parents, living on the streets by begging or selling souvenirs to tourists. At the pyramids, very young children had learned enough English to hold plastic pyramids or postcards and say, “$1? $1?”We always said no. One boy, jokingly, grinned and held up a post card and said, “One million dollar?”It’s also easy to forget that Cairo can be dangerous.Last week, I took a survival Arabic course. Our teacher was friendly and middle-aged, a mother and wife. Often between Arabic lessons, talk of culture would surface. She repeated herself, telling us one thing.“It is a different Egypt now.” She means it’s different because of the revolution. Jan. 25 and 28 are dates that need no explanation here, the two most important days of the revolution last year. Many Egyptians know people who died for Egypt during the riots, and they all have stories from living when former Egyptian president Hosni Mubarak ruled.But many Egyptians aren’t happy with the Egypt that has grown out of the revolution, at least not in the short term. It’s more dangerous now. Street violence never used to be an issue, and now it is. Women are touched or pinched in daylight on the street. Police don’t respond to calls. The politicians aren’t of the caliber most Egyptians hoped for.Egypt is a nation with seemingly insurmountable problems. But when Egyptians look to the government, there’s something I haven’t seen in America in a long time: hope. Things aren’t great now, but the people have hope that the government and President Mohamed Morsi will work to make it better. Egyptians’ love of their country trumps its troubles.It’s refreshing to see, coming from a country so cynical and tired as America, since the United States has entered election season. In a lot of ways, we’ve lost hope in our government. I don’t know how Egyptians manage such hope for change after facing not just years but centuries of oppression by various groups or leaders, but they do. To me, that’s pretty amazing.
(08/28/12 3:24am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>As our plane descended into Cairo, my face was glued to the window. It was unlike anything I’d seen before. Miles of sand-colored skyscrapers sprawled out over the desert, all clustered in bunches around the massive Nile River. I thought the plane glass was dirty because there was a haze surrounding the buildings. The person next to me said, “No, that’s the smog.” I think the haze around Cairo is fitting, because that’s kind of how it feels to be here. Hazy. The jet lag doesn’t help. The heat isn’t as bad as I thought it would be, but it’s definitely hot, especially considering the fact that women have to cover our skin.The heat takes some getting used to, but the language even more so. Many people here don’t speak English, and the ones who don’t are the people I’ve come into contact with so far. They work the restaurants, shops and taxis. They’re happy to try and work with my broken Arabic, but it’s challenging. And, as us students have quickly realized, our lack of Arabic language fluency leaves us extremely vulnerable. It’s not so bad for me because I have wavy, brown hair and Grecian skin. I’m still obviously American to Egyptians, but I’ve already noticed I’m less likely to be ripped off when paying for things than a blonde haired, blue-eyed girl on the trip.Everywhere we’ve gone, the Egyptians point at us, but then smile and wave, especially the children. They’re eager to talk with us. That’s a nice change, considering many other countries aren’t so fond of Americans. In a way, it’s strange we are so welcomed in Egypt, of all places. I’ve found that the only place Egyptians aren’t respectful is on the road. Imagine driving in a big American city, like New York or Chicago. Now, triple the amount of traffic. Then remove all stop signs and stoplights. That’s Cairo. Every time we have driven so far, some part of me has been convinced we are going to die. Or, at the very least, we will hit someone trying to cross the seven-lane street, Frogger-style. We got a fair tour of the city because we went to Old Cairo, or Coptic Cairo as it’s sometimes called. Coptic is the form of Christianity here. We saw the Ben Ezra Synagogue, the oldest synagogue in Cairo. According to legend, it’s located at the site of the burning bush. In modern times, it’s simply a place where controversy echoes because it’s nestled between a church and a mosque. It is well guarded by police for fear of terrorism. There is still much friction between Israelis and Egyptians. We saw the church where the Holy Family is said to have lived during their several years in Egypt after fleeing King Herod. Then, we saw the mosque of Amr Ibn al-As, the oldest mosque in Cairo. To enter, all women had to wear robes that covered our arms, legs and hair completely. Both sexes had to remove their shoes. Every day here is punctuated by religion, literally and metaphorically. Five times a day, the call to prayer, or adhan, rings through the city through loud speakers. Most women walk about in niqabs, the black robes showing only a woman’s eyes, burqas, which show only the face or hijabs. Some men walk about in long tunics that go to their feet. Then, there’s us: the Americans in our jeans, t-shirts and cardigans. I’ve never been a minority before, but I think I’m starting to understand what that feels like, to live in a country where you go against every possible norm. Despite the heat and the smog, I like it here already. And we’ve only been here for less than two days. I can’t wait for this haze to clear so I can truly see what Cairo is all about.
(08/21/12 3:59am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Four months doesn’t sound like a long time. 120 days. 18 weekends. Two holidays, Halloween and Thanksgiving. A single semester. But if you think about it in terms of college years, it’s an eternity. I’ll leave Friday to live and study in Cairo for four months. I’ll spend an eighth of my college career in a foreign country, making new friends who, after the semester, I probably won’t see again. I’m going to miss 21st birthday celebrations with my best friends — my own birthday included. I’ll come back to inside jokes that I don’t understand and stories to share that no one back home comprehends. In the last week I’ve had enough goodbye meals and coffee to feed a city. Even distant friends have come out of the woodwork to bid me farewell or at least make a request. “Please don’t die or get arrested in Egypt.” It’s funny to me that this is their primary concern, because the school seems to agree. Most of my preparation to go to Egypt has been based on staying safe and healthy.For the sake of transparency, I must admit I’ve studied abroad twice before. I lived in Berlin for a summer in high school and in London last summer. But preparing for Egypt has been an incomparable experience. I’m not saying that it’s better or worse, easier or harder, to go to a non-European destination. I’m saying it’s completely different. To go to Egypt, I have had to sign more waivers than I possibly have the rest of my life combined. Some of them are the standard study abroad waivers. But, as I’m going to a place that could qualify as African or Middle Eastern, many have been more interesting.For example, I signed one form stating I recognize I’ll put myself at risk of danger from “wild cats.” I signed another to say I know I’ll be in a territory with known terrorist activity. A third was to reassure the Egyptian government that I have no intention to become pregnant while in Egypt.For the record, the latter is not a goal of mine.After the paperwork came the doctors’ appointments.I went to a special travel office to get the required vaccines. They lectured me about Egyptian health risks like bleeding fevers, West Nile virus, sun sickness, scorpion stings and contaminated water. To get into Egypt, I had to get a blood test and papers confirming my HIV status. I was the first HIV test my nurse had ever done. I’ll let you imagine her reaction.To top it off, I am also bringing enough medication with me to run a small pharmacy.It sounds scary, and at first it was. But at some point, you’ve just got to accept it as part of the adventure. Besides, all the people who have been to Egypt have told me three things: it’s beautiful, safer than expected, and I’m going to love it. My parents will drive me to the airport Friday. The travel time to get there is about 20 hours, and Egypt is currently six hours ahead of Bloomington time. I’ll live in a dormitory on an island in the Nile an hour away from campus.I’m sad to go. The goodbyes seem endless, and I know when I return, things will be different. But the fact that I’m so sad means I have something awesome to come home to at the end of all this. I can only hope I’ll be this dismal at the end of my time in Cairo and for the same reasons.
(08/14/12 12:29am)
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>When people find out I’m leaving in a few weeks to study in Cairo, I generally get one of two reactions: excitement or terror.After the reaction come the questions: Do you have to cover your hair? Don’t they have Shariah law in Egypt? Can women drive there? Can they wear jeans? Aren’t there terrorists in Egypt? Or more seriously, why Egypt?How are your parents handling it?Aren’t you scared?First of all, let’s get a few things straight: I do not have to cover my hair in Egypt, as I am not Muslim. This is something women do by choice, according to their religious beliefs. Although women are culturally treated differently there, they can drive. They can work. They can most definitely wear jeans. Egypt does not operate according to Shariah law — not by a long shot. To the terrorist question, I ask — aren’t there terrorists everywhere, including America? Terrorism isn’t exclusively Arab.The other questions aren’t so easily answered. I never really thought about why I was going to Egypt until it was already decided. It’s this mix of intense interest in the politics, religions, culture and history of the region. I’ve always been interested in Egypt, even as a kid. Having grown up in post-9/11 America, our fear of the Middle East interests me further. I want to understand how this one place can evoke such questions and instill such fear in so many Americans. I want to know how the Middle East came to be America’s boogeyman, and if it even deserves that title.But it took my parents a long time to understand my reasoning. I think it’s fair to say most parents wouldn’t exactly endorse their 20-year-old daughter living alone in the Middle East for four months. Mine were no exception. People have openly told my parents and siblings they are crazy and horrible for letting me do this. A few weeks back, I asked my mom why they were letting me go. She laughed at my question and said, “Hannah, you didn’t give us much of a choice.” In the beginning, my parents scoffed and thought I was bluffing when I said I wanted to study abroad in Egypt. When I actually applied, the panic began to set in. This was, thankfully, followed by acceptance. Now, they’re more excited than scared for me to have this opportunity. I’m not sure the same is entirely true for me. Don’t get me wrong. I’m excited, but I’m nervous. To go, not only to the Middle East but as a woman, is daunting. I won’t be able to drink most of the water or eat fresh food if it hasn’t been rinsed in bleach. I’ll have to wear clothing that shows only my hands, wrists, feet and face, despite desert heat. I’m traveling alone, and I don’t know anyone there. And none of that considers the language barrier, which, despite several semesters of Arabic, I’m sure will be vast. But I will get to see the pyramids. I’ll get to look out on the Nile. I’ll get to walk through Tahrir Square and see mummies in their native land. I’m scared, excited and nervous. I know it’s going to be rough, but I also have faith it will be worth it. In this column, I’m hoping to answer the questions I’ve been asked for months. Do Egyptians have the same distrust of Americans as we have of them? How are women actually treated there? Do people really ride camels? I’m hoping to tell you what it’s like to live there and to shed some small bit of light on our misunderstanding of the Middle East. Maybe the boogeyman won’t be so scary after all.— hannsmit@indiana.edu