We wandered around the very large station—it is called the Gateway to Cairo and has stores, an arcade, a cinema, and even a restaurant that reminded me of The Rainforest Café. We got a coffee and while I watched the Egyptian version of MTV blaring on the public television set in the sitting area, my friend made friends with the customers at the next table. When the time came, we boarded our bus and watched Cairo pass by outside our windows. Just like how my awe of the DC monuments has not faded after two years of close acquaintance, seeing the pyramids from every angle and side did not diminish their attraction, and indeed I found them more interesting when I’d see them in the distance—a surprise appearance, than when we went there purposefully and walked right up to their sides.
The entrance to Alexandria was declared by a very Greek-looking gate spanning across the highway (I missed the shot where you can see the Greek letters, but here you can at least see its columns and a bit of the frieze).
My friend wanted to see the library, and I wanted to try a snack I’d read about in the guidebook. We had about four hours. So, we took a taxi to the library. Unfortunately it was closed, but in its courtyard a great concert was underway. We watched and danced and clapped along for a bit before heading over to the sea.
There was an advertisement of an exhibit I would have liked to see. Of course I hear about the establishment of the State of Israel regularly from one point of view, and this exhibit was from “the other side’s” viewpoint. One man in the metro had told us how he used to live in Palestine in the forties, and when he left, he had been forced to move from country to country in the middle east, and was still unsure where he would eventually be welcomed to stay longer than a few years (visas and whatnot).
From the concert we could see the sea, so we head that way—it is along the beach where the guidebook had said we would find the popular “smartie-sized yellow bean” snack. We crossed one street running perpendicular to the coast, and looked dubiously at the fast moving, very wide road that ran parallel, separating us from the boardwalk. I even looked up and down the road and did not see any locals I could use as a crossing-the-street guide. As we discussed the possibility of making it across alive, my friend spotted the way. There are tunnels that run from one side to the other every block or so along the sidewalk!
We began our walk eastward in search of the snack carts, and soon saw a woman and her daughter sitting on the low wall eating some of them out of a bag. My excitement was quite visible. And they were so nice! They offered us a taste, and after he and I each took one bean to satisfy our curiosity, they insisted on pouring whole handfuls into our cupped hands before sending us on our way. I must admit it is not a snack I would choose, given a choice, but my stomach had been empty most of the day, and the protein was welcomed by my cells. And as with everything, it was more about the experience than anything else. :-)
We crossed back under the street for some more substantial food and watched our final sunset in Egypt as we waited for our pizza (I always like to taste pizza, ice cream, and sprite in each country as well as buy a copy of Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, and a key chain from each—I couldn’t find Cinderella anywhere in Cairo or Alexandria. :-/ )
Down by the beach we came among the crowds, sidewalks completely covered in families, couples, and groups of young friends. As the celebrities that we were, being such an anomaly, we posed with the locals who wanted pictures with us, and made more friends.
We walked over to the synagogue, which was pretty heavily guarded (They wouldn’t let me take a picture), and eventually took a taxi back to the bus station. I was struck by the amount of people, and especially children, meandering around the beach walk and remembered people mentioning that Alexandria is a popular vacation spot for Egyptians, and wondered what it would look like after school starts up again.
Oh, and we were also surprised to see a street like we'd seen in Cairo lined with stores selling nothing but shoes! So fun! :)
On the bus ride back to Cairo the bus driver fought long and hard with the VHS he was trying to play at a loud volume for the people who were trying to sleep behind him. My friend and I lamented the hindrance to our sleep and he finally asked the driver to turn the volume down. Eventually the static cleared and the movie began playing fairly smoothly. I watched with little interest as a man and woman speaking Arabic sailed out on a calm ocean or something with two children. It seemed a nice enough movie until two other boats came out of the horizon and forcibly boarded their boat and kidnapped the children. As the woman turned to the man in panic, he injected her with something and she lost consciousness. I thought, “Oh great, not only are we playing a movie late at night when most people are trying to sleep, but we’re playing a horror movie?!” But my interest was about to be piqued. The next scene found the woman regaining consciousness, now in a fancy apartment in a high-rise building. She wandered through the rooms calling for her children as the music told me that the bad guy was soon to appear. I braced myself in my chair and silently thought things like, “Don’t open the basement door!” as the music began its crescendo. It built and built as the woman stepped out onto the balcony, still trying to get her bearings. Then her face changed as she saw the terror of the enemy and the music reached its climax of “Here’s the bad guy!!!!” as the camera cut from her face to…the Israeli flag. She had been kidnapped to Eilat.
I think my chin almost hit the floor in front of my feet. I don’t know why I was so surprised. I knew who Egyptians consider the enemy. It should have been completely predictable. But I guess I’m so used to the movie bad guys being individuals, even if those individuals represent a racist agenda on the writer’s part.
Anyway, apparently the apartment belonged to the man from the boat. He and she got in a shouting match and then he said he had to go. He put on his kipa (yamaka), and then turned back to yell at her some more, grab her by the throat and clearly make a very frightening threat (somehow it seemed to me it was about her kids). In another scene a Jewish woman was being kind to the imprisoned woman, but is still clearly in cahoots with the bad guys, and it showed her kissing the mezuzah as she passes through a doorway. In a third scene the man is again threatening the woman, or somehow psychologically cornering her, and as he shouts at her, he stands before a menorah in his house. After he makes his final threat, he walks out of the camera’s shot, leaving the now in-focus menorah on the screen an extra second.
There were many more instances that showed how terribly frightening it was for her and her children to be stranded in Israel, when they were walking down the street, etc. And it just reemphasized to me the power of media. It also reminded me of my own thought patterns about a month ago. I was sitting outside the dorms chatting with several Israelis. Some were Jewish, others Arab, and a couple were Russian (Haifa is very diverse, and for the most part everyone gets along well). Everyone was very welcoming, and one was particularly helpful with my very-lacking Hebrew. But even though he was being very friendly, I felt a little uncomfortable with him. I couldn’t figure out why for the longest time, even with my analytic mind reviewing everything he had said, his body-language, everything I could think of, and couldn’t put a finger on it. I decided to ignore the feeling and continue to befriend him. About an hour later it struck me why I felt a little unnerved by him. His face and accent were reminiscent of a bad guy in an action movie I had grown up watching! He is Russian, and by association with the antagonist in the movie I’d seen so many times as a child, my don’t-trust-this-guy radar was going bazurk. Well, once I finally figured it out and laughed embarrassingly to myself, I was able to start the cleaning out of my mind process.
But it did require a process—and a conscious well-intentioned one at that, fostered by so many other parts of media, my parents’ very un-racist raising of me, and my experiences with many different kinds of people throughout my life.
We made it back to Cairo and since it was so late, the metro was closed, so we took a taxi back to the flat for a few hours of sleep, packing, and up a bit early to make the trek back to the bus station. I got my ticket, met up with my friend (who slept later since he already had his ticket ;-)), and we got aboard for the eight hour ride to the boarder.
I watched the streets of Cairo a last time, and noted to myself that the next time I have a large bundle to carry, I certainly should try setting it atop my head, allowing the weight to balance on my spine down through my feet, rather than off to one side or the other of my body.
My friend had looked for Coke a few times while we’d been traveling, and had only found Pepsi products. As we left Cairo, I finally saw an advertisement for Coke-a-Cola, and halfway to the boarder he found a bottle of the sweet stuff. :-)
As we approached the boarder crossing, we began making quiet jokes about the joy of returning to Israel. We made it through the Egypt passport control quickly and were practically skipping to be back in a familiar land…and then had to wait in line two hours, as we had arrived alongside two busloads of tourists! Through the window I saw the Israeli and Egyptian flag flying alongside each other, and wished that someday the people of both nations will be able to walk and work alongside each other just as peacefully as the flags fly.
While we waited we made friends with a man from Paris who works for the French embassy in Jerusalem. He and his roommate gave us a ride to Eilat (yay for not having to find a taxi!), and I gave my number to his roommate who has family in Haifa. She says she comes up here regularly and is always looking for friends to go salsa dancing with her. I was thrilled and look forward to the next time she heads up here—my dancing shoes I brought are looking a bit forlorn.
We had missed the last bus to Haifa for the day, so took one to Tel Aviv, to catch a train the rest of the way. The train station near the bus station was closed by the time we got there. So, back to the bus station to look for a sheirut (shared taxi service). We were told there were none either to Haifa, nor to the other train station, so took a taxi—thankfully my friend had some Shekels! Got to the train and rode it up to Haifa. Then we waited for the bus…and waited…and turned cartwheels in the empty 2am street…and waited. A taxi driver pulled up and informed us that night buses had stopped running since the children had returned to school for the fall. Oh. So, we took a taxi back to school, went our separate ways at the elevator, and I flopped into my bed for the remainder of the night, and well into the next day.
Monday all I accomplished was unpacking, laundry, a bit of internet work (checking emails, voicemails, etc.), and dinner. But thankfully I had received and been able to respond to one important email, arranging my first official meeting at the lab, to get my research officially underway. So, Tuesday morning I got up at a decent hour, had breakfast, and finished up prepping my data the way I’d hoped to finish before first going to the lab.
The meeting with two of my to-be fellow researchers was great. I shared my data with them and we discussed my project along with several others. It’s been a while since I’ve spoken linguistics with linguists, and it was a welcome re-awakening for the vocabulary and concepts, which I am still developing after only two years in the field. It certainly excited and motivated me toward my project (and the others I may get to join in while I am here).
The rest of the week somehow filled up quickly so that on Thursday when I saw a friend I hadn’t seen since before Cairo and she said, “How has your week back been?” I blinked and wondered how it had already been a full week. I know I ran on the beach with a friend. I know I visited the shuk to fill my fridge with vegetables, and visited the apartment I may move into soon, and stayed for a group dinner there that night, and I know I slept in almost each day…but had it really been a full week? Nearly.
Saturday was Yom Kippur, so Friday I packed a bag and took the last sheirut just before 2pm when public transportation would close, and went down to spend the night at some friends’ apartment. We ate a meal and began the fast, and I asked many questions about the day, the history, traditions, reasons, etc. and we had a great time relaxing and talking until it was time to walk down to synagogue.
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