You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘Egyptian Revolution’ tag.

Photo by Raymond Khalife
Not too long ago the region was rocked by The Arab Spring, people became active and experts in politics, everyone knew what was best and everyone wanted to be captain to steer the country forward into a new age democracy. Tensions rose between family, friends and acquaintances due to difference of opinion and being unable to agree, to disagree. Facebook news feeds were full of political articles, satire and propaganda. In this historical abyss, I began to lose myself and no longer recognized my people or my country. In the midst of the confusion a person whom I had come to know via twitter, introduced me to the world of Instagram.
Instagram for those who are not part of the social media platform arena, here is Wikipedia’s description of it: “an online mobile photo-sharing, video-sharing and social networking service that enables its users to take pictures and videos, and share them on a variety of social networking platforms, such as Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr and Flickr.”
I had always been fascinated with taking pictures and had been given simple cameras, with Kodak film to take pictures with. As my interest grew using my mobile phone camera to take pictures to post on Instagram, so did my desire to improve. I would experiment with the filters available on the phone to try and make the pictures look artistic, but in all honesty, I was never satisfied. I felt that it took away from the natural and simplistic beauty of what I was trying to capture. My family saw that I had developed a new hobby or passion and bought me a semiprofessional Nikon as a birthday present. I learned to use it through trial and error and like my shadow, it went everywhere I went. My friends and family members dubbed me Papparzi, because I would be taking pictures for every occasion, outing and at event, I or we took part in.
Two and a half years ago, the same person who had introduced me to Instagram and awakened my dormant interest in photography, is now one of Egypt’s most recognized and followed Instragramers, as well as interior designers, Karim El Hayawan. He invited me to join him on a Saturday morning walk in Downtown Cairo. I was humbled to have the opportunity to watch and observe how he chose his subjects and what angels he would take to capture the image he wanted. The first walk, I remember walking in silence and only talking if I had to. I was shy as well as intimidated by this person and his endless well of creativity. I felt like roles had been reversed, I had become the student, learning from a teacher.
I must have made a good impression, because I was invited to join again for future Saturday morning walks. It has been two years of walking and what a privilege it has been. Not only have learned from Karim H, but endless of others too. With each walk, more people joined and that is how, he initiated a group and named it, “CairoSaturdayWalkers”. Over the past two years, we have grown from just a handful, into a small network of patriots, who want to share the beauty of our country and her people with those online. We may not be able to abolish the negative image that the media has painted of our part of the world, but with every picture we post and every like we receive, it is an effort well made. Every person that joins brings something new to the group and I became more inspired an in awe of their perspective and creative approach to things. The people that joined are from various career backgrounds and a large range in ages. Some of our merry band of walkers are amateur photographers like myself, while others have clearly taken courses and have become professional. Walking with so many talented individuals has further enriched me. It has opened my eyes to see the beauty that surrounds me every day, but often miss due to our fast paced life style. The walks force me to slow down and look at what is in front of me and to appreciate the beauty in it’s simplicity, complexity as well as some of the historical and modern architectural wonders that are hidden in our large and mystical capital city, Cairo.
Before I started walking, I must confess that I had reached a level of frustration and saturation, where the thought of continuing to live in Egypt was unbearable. The post-traumatic stress of the revolution and the difficulty of being female trying to find her place in a male dominated society had gotten to me. My Saturday morning excursions have helped to calm me down and show me things that I miss when I am driving by in the comfort of my car. When I walk in old and lower income neighborhoods I see the Egypt that my father and my grandparents spoke of. I see the warm, friendly and hospitable people that Naguib Mahfouz and other well-known authors described in their novels. Through watching my mentors, I have overcome my shyness of speaking in Arabic and make more of an effort to communicate. On my walks I have seen first-hand how the ancient knowledge of craftsmanship or trade has been handed down through generations, from carpenters, jewelers, welders, brick makers, bakers, upholsters, engravers, shepherds and manufacturers just to name a few.
Roaming the streets with the group on a Saturday, is when I fall back in love with my culture, heritage and people. I can’t begin to express how much I look forward to my walks. My mind becomes clearer, ideas become fluid, stories and characters are created in my subconscious.
The walks and the walkers have been my silent saviors, they have ignited a passion and an interest in me that I didn’t even know I had. When I miss a walk, I am utterly disappointed, but I take my camera with me, where ever I happen to be, just in case.
I am still not as savvy with a camera as many of the people I have come to know, I prefer to aim my lens at my subject and try and capture the image. I don’t understand or know any of the technical approaches that many of them converse about, which is fine. I don’t feel judged or pressured to learn. When I am ready, I will learn, but for now, I’ll just continue to do what I enjoy and that is, aim and shoot 🙂
To my fellow #cairosaturdaywalkers thank you for making Saturdays, my favorite day of the week! XOXO
If you would like to see my photos you can visit my instagram page @IrishAlexandrian, if you would like to see of the walkers photographs, check out the following hash-tags on Instagram and on twitter #cairosaturdaywalks #roamegypt #ThisIsEgypt and #cairosaturdaywalkers
Oh and one more thing, be the change you want to be…
What are you waiting for, put on your shoes, and go for a walk. You just might find your passion along the way.
Sunday 27th July
Sundays are days off at the retreat! I was very grateful to have a sleep in for a change. Since the end of the Academic year, I’ve been on the go, and a slower pace, even just for a day was nice.
What would I do with myself for a whole day in a place where I can’t speak the language? sleep? naaa! The sun is shining and the air is clean! I should fill my lungs up with as much of it as possible while I have the chance. But before I decide, first order of business is; breakfast!! I dressed hastily, made sure I had everything I needed in my hand bag and my camera, so that I wouldn’t have to come back to the room if I decided to head straight out.
By now, I knew what the nutritionist had planned for my breakfast off by heart; a glass of fresh juice, a slice of toast, cottage cheese, a slice of Emmantal cheese, 2 small 50 gm triangles of processed cheese, 2 boiled eggs, yogurt and a bowl of oats. Meh! is right! It is quite bland to the palette and doesn’t sound or look anywhere near as appetizing as the croissants, slices of tea cake, fresh pineapple, scrambled or boiled eggs, BUT I am here for the purpose to drop my weight and to clean my insides of a decade worth of poisonous crap that I had consumed, so I will suck it up! It’s amazing how a little dash of pepper and salt can change how food tastes!
Just before I was done Rana walked into the restaurant with her father. I went up to greet them both, she was very surprised to receive the little box of chocolates that I had left, “shoo hay, wahdi be wahdi’ , she said in her strong Lebanese accent, s “what’s this? one for one.” I told her it was a simple thank you gesture for giving me something I loved so much. “I want to see you in Beirut next time. I’ll send you my contacts so you can call me next time you come.” I promised the next time, I was there I would most certainly contact her. I wished her and her father both safe travels in case I didn’t see them before they both left.
After breakfast I went in search of the small travel agency (again), that organizes short trips to neighboring cities both in Slovakia and countries close to its borders. I followed my mother’s description to the letter and I couldn’t find it. I was slightly perplexed about it but I decided to continue on with my stroll and worry about it later. As I walked the island and saw the other hotels that shared the area, It was without a shadow of a doubt that I had booked into the jackpot! The other hotels were of modern architecture and from what I could see they didn’t give off as bright and relaxing ambiance com as Thermia Palace. I’m sure the service is good, there too, but I like the places I stay in to look cheerful both inside and out. I snapped a few pictures along my walk and kept a look out for where I might be able to rent a bike for the hour or for the day.
The thought of riding a bike was exciting as well as Terrifying! Since moving to Egypt in the early 1990’s I haven’t ridden one. I was genuinely worried that I had forgotten how to and that I would fall and that would be the end of my holiday and I’d spend the rest of it all bandaged up like a mummy! When I last rode a bike the world wasn’t as safety conscious either, I didn’t want to violate any rules or collide into another biker, pedestrian or car. So, I also took a mental note of where the bike lanes were, so if I ever did find a bike to rent, I had some idea of where I could ride.
I had no such luck, so I went back to the hotel after a lengthy walk and decided to check in with my family. As I was about to go up to my room, I bumped into Rana again. I stood chatting with her and her father, and was then introduced to 3 more Lebanese gents who live and own a travel agency here. Rana introduced me to Farag and said, ‘This is Nadia, she’s a lovely girl, please keep an eye on her. Nadia, Farag is a very old and good friend of mine, if you need anything please don’t hesitate to ask him.” It’s moments like these when you see the true spirit of the people from the Middle East, hospitable, helpful and generous. The media has plagued their image with false assumptions that we are all blood thirsty born killers, who have only thoughts of terrorism on our mind. It was very nice to see abroad as well as back in the region. Once they left and we said our final goodbyes, I went up to my room and sent my mom pictures of the area she had described and asked her to pin point exactly where the travel agent was supposed to be. After a lengthy discussion it turned out I had walked by the place quite a few times! So, once we had ended the conversation I headed back downstairs to check it out.
I headed down stairs and went directly to the place, my mother had described only, only to find a tiny note pad size piece of paper stuck to the window, that said they had relocated. I took a picture of the new address and asked the reception at the hotel. They informed me that it was on the bridge to the left of the hotel but would be closed on a Sunday. I asked if they knew of anywhere else I could rent a bicycle and I was told the hotel Balnea Esplenada rents them. They called the hotel for me and made sure that they had bikes available for me.
I walk to the hotel and went to the reception. I thought I had been transported back to Cairo and began to panic. The place reminded me a lot of the Intercontinental- Semiramis Hotel, near Tahrir Square. It was a modern architectural structure, with black tiled floors, tan colored leathers seats in the reception area and full of Gulfies.
(Yeah, I’m definitely staying at the classiest joint on the island! Phew!)
At the reception I gave my name, and the room key card holder with the details of how long I’m staying at Thermia Palace and room number. To rent the bike, it’s 5 Euros for 4 hours. Once all the details were taken and I paid cash, rather than have it charged to my room, I was taken a long, a long corridor to where the bikes are kept. I chose one, adjusted the seat, took the key for the bike lock and went on my merry way.
At first, I had forgotten, how one should actually start to peddle. So, I had one foot on a peddle and the other was pushing along the ground, like you would a scooter. Eventually, I got both feet up on to the peddles and I started to move forward, holding on to the handle bars for dear life, as I wobbled from side to side, like a drunk! I eventually found my equilibrium and was riding the bike! I rode along the bikers path along the river banks, the more I rode the more confident I became. By lunch time my thighs, abs and my butt cheeks were in agony. In addition to that I was famished. I headed back to the hotel, parked the bike outside, inhaled my lunch and was soon out again.
I rode for another hour, until the sky turned a gloomy dark color. I rode the bike back to Esplenada, took it to where I had been told to leave it when I was done and locked it, turned the key into the reception AND the heavens opened with a loud CRACK of thunder and a whip of lightening flashed across the sky!
Monday 28th July
I love walking! I find that I see more and learn more about a place and it’s people, when I’m on foot. On Saturdays, I join a small group of photography enthusiasts who, walk around areas of Cairo to take pictures. I enjoy it a great deal, not only because I take pictures, but I get to walk and see some of my ‘real’ countrymen/women going about their day to day lives.
First on the agenda for today is Nordic Walking.
All I knew is that it involved sticks and walking (obviously)! After a very quick breakfast, I went to the spa building Irma, as it stated on the paper to await the person who would be leading the group of people on the walk. I was greeted by a tall blond, blue eyed, fit young man called Jan (pronounced Yaan). In fairly good English he informed me that he would be leading the walk and it looked like I would be the only one participating. He adjusted the length of the sticks, showed me how to strap them on to my hands. I thought I looked like a marionette or some kind of shadow puppet. which then queued the ‘Pinocchio’ song ‘I’ve got no strings’!
The sticks took some getting used to. Jan told me to have the arm go with the opposite leg and to not focus on it, otherwise I would trip myself up. He was right the less I thought about them the better I was at walking with them. I asked him questions about what life is like living in Slovakia and how he got into fitness to distract my mind from the sticks. We walked a circuit for about 20-30 minutes at a fairly quick pace. It was great cardio and my lungs appreciated inhaling the fresh morning air.
Once done, I ran to my room to get ready for my other sessions… I had a fairly easy day, I only had 4 sessions. An hour after the walk I got into my robe, because second on the agenda was the mud pack. An experience that takes some getting used to at first. I don’t mind having the warm mud slathered on my bare skin and being wrapped up like a shawerma. It’s trying to get the mud off in the shower! No matter how thorough, I try to be, I always end up missing some! The Mud pack was closely followed by my Electro Magnetic treatment for my back , where I was greeted by the ever so lovely and very friendly and kind Elena. A middle aged Slovakian woman, with short hair and kind eyes and face.
My last treatment wasn’t till later in the afternoon, so I went for a long walk around the town, discovering new areas and just taking in the scenery and architecture, stopping every now and then to take pictures with my phone. I also went to the mall to get some long sleaved tops. I had only packed short sleeved t-shirts and if the forecast predicted rain for the week, I would need something warmer to wear. , (Another excuse to shop and spend money! Why not! I’m helping the economy, well at least that’s what I tell myself 😉
I was looking forward to my work out class GG Slim, last time we bounced around and exercised on balls! This time we had a different instructor, who looked a lot like Rhald Dhals character, the Trunchbull from his book ‘Matilda’. A medium height, square looking blond Russian woman, with knee length shorts, socks half way up her calf, white nurse like shoes and her hair tightly tied back. One look at her and I knew this would be one session where my muscles would be so soar by the end of them that if they could scream mercy, they would. Even the Saudi woman taking the class with me, looked as though she was scanning for an escape route. “Laa Laa Laa, mu hathi, Wahda thanya”, which in Gulf Arabic translates to “No, No, No, not this one, another one!”
We both took a deep breath and did as we were instructed. We got our mats, lay them on the floor and did what reminded me of the early 80’s Jane Fonda work out, minus the music! We did all sorts of stretching, lifting of arms and legs and stomach crunches. I could felt my muscles wince in pain, as I pushed myself to the exercises, while reminding myself, this is why I am here, to get fitter, thinner and healthier! Without any pain, there will be no gain!
By the time the session was over, I was exhausted and the Saudi woman was panting and gasping for air. I thanked the woman for the session, took my card and went to my room to change and go for another walk around the premises before dinner.
After dinner I went back up to my room and sat down and began writing part I to my experience at Thermia Palace.
I got so carried away with what I was writing that I lost track of time. I had been asked by one of the Egyptian women, Su, whom I had met on my first night in Piestany and had kept an eye open for me everyday to see how I was getting along asked me earlier on in the day, to make sure that I spent some time with her and her friends later on in the evening. Su and her husband were due to depart the next morning to head home back to Egypt after spending a month at Thermia Palace. I was very fortunate to find them all still sat around the round table that they had reserved for tonight. When I walked in I was greeted warmly by all those who were there. I was invited to sit and take part in the on going discussion. I was the youngest person at the table, sat among two doctors, an ambassador and 3 other highly intellectual individuals of 3 different faiths. It was while we sat and talked and exchanged contact information, I had a ‘moment’… ‘I am sat at a round table, with Christians, Muslims and Jews, there is no conflict or hate, just people.’ How poignant and more symbolic could that moment have been? If only the media, would stop fueling the hate and showing more moments like this.
Tuesday 29th July
It was another very early start to the day kicking it off with Nordic Walking. I fared much , better today and I was able to keep up more. The time seemed to just fly by. I felt cheated and would have gladly done the circuit once more. Since my arrival, I had been trying to figure out where the gym was. In the end I just asked Jan, where it was, since he was the fitness instructor. He showed me which door I had to go through and which corridor, I needed to walk along. The place is like Hogwarts (less like a gloomy castle thought), more like a maze! There are so many doors and corridors, that it’s easy to lose your way. (Now that I had an idea of where it was, I would definitely make an effort to use it (I hope!).
The rest of the day, was spent between Irma and the Napoleon III and 1B buildings. Bustling about across a courtyard between buildings with a gym bag and flip flops in a robe can be a workout in itself I tell you! It was a busy day, with Electro treatments, Parafango, Water gymnastics, Mirror pool and 20′ Massage.
The water gymnastics was lead by the Trunchbull! It wasn’t the usual red headed lady with a somewhat cheerful air about her. The members of the class looked worried. I related to their fear. There’s one thing to do those exercises on a mat on a floor, but in a pool? I hoped I wouldn’t drown!
The class went pretty well to tell the truth, the water created resistance and I felt like I had worked a lot of my muscles, especially my upper body. From there I showered off, changed into my robe to make my way across the court yard yet again to Irma, to take a much needed 20 minute dip in the warm sulfuric water of the Mirror Pool.
I usually shy away from getting naked. I don’t even like looking at myself with no clothes on. I’m fine when I’m looking at myself from the collarbone up, because when I look below that’s when I see all my faults and areas of imperfection that are so loudly pointed out and dictated to us by the media. So, I was genuinely quite surprised at how well I was adjusting to the numerous of times I had to bare-all and be in the presence of other women too. (I wondered what Freud, would have to say about that?)
In an odd way it was starting to feel more natural. When that thought crossed my mind, I even shocked myself! One of the many outspoken voices in my head, piped up; “More natural! Have you lost your mind girl? Next thing, you’ll be thinking about how cavemen or tribes people in the Rain forests of South America, are more civilized than we are, and we are over complicating life! The sulfur must have gone to your head!” I’m not saying, I’m by any means ready to give up my wardrobe or start vacationing at nude beaches or becoming a nudist. What I am trying to say, that perhaps we have been going about things the wrong way. There is a lot of shame that is brought on to those that don’t have a certain figure or that breaks the mold shall we say. A bodies shouldn’t be ‘a one size suites all’ mentality. If you look at the statues of women from the time of Ancient Greece or Rome or portraits from the Renaissance, women were not stick thin, they were busty, voluptuous and curvy. Why is it in the past few decades that perception of beauty has changed?
Three years ago, I wanted to have a body like Megan Fox. I won’t be hypocrite, I’m not going to lie about it. Having been here less than a week, my perception of beauty is changing. When I’m out walking and riding a bicycle, I see people who are healthy, active and they come in all shapes and sizes. So, my goal now is not to go back to Cairo looking like runway model, but to be a healthier person, who is comfortable in her own skin. I don’t want to get down to a size 4, I’ll be content if I can make it to a healthy 10/12. There’s nothing wrong with that!
Stay tuned for part III
I do not know Ahmed, but I have his written consent to post his eye-witness account of what he saw first hand when he went to investigate what was happening at the El Fat7 mosque in downtown Cairo.
By Ahmed Amin
Before I begin, I would just like to say that there are numerous perspectives to the events that have been occurring over the past few days, and these perspectives are all altered by your vantage point – or the angle at which you are witnessing the events. This was my vantage point today:
As soon as I neared the Metro exit, I could hear loud crowds and gunshots. I exited the Metro and took a minute or so to look around and try to grasp and decipher the situation to decide which direction I should head in.
It is important to say that those that surrounded the Muslim Brotherhood inside the mosque were not thugs or hired mercenaries as a lot of news sources have been reporting, but rather vendors, shop owners, and residents of the area who had their belongings destroyed by the Brotherhood. They were there seeking revenge.
I walked up to the mosque’s main entrance and noticed that it was completely void of security, and was manned by civilians. I walked around the mosque to another corner, which I could recognize as the “dead zone” that TV cameras don’t show. At this corner, there were a lot of officers and CSF soldiers standing. I thought a group on the ground was a human shield of Brotherhood members denying them entrance to the mosque. Little did I know, those people – about 50 or so sitting on the ground – were all arrested. The officers refused to escort them outside until the situation was a little cleared and calmed. The residents were crazy for revenge and seeking blood.
One officer – very high in rank and was the guy in charge – was extremely harsh and exercised police brutality at its best. He was cursing and hitting the Brotherhood members. I asked a conscript why he was so harsh and he explained to me that his little brother – who also a police officer – was shot at and killed last night. I felt bad for him, but that still didn’t justify the insane police brutality.
Another officer approached him and told him that they were ready to escort the Brotherhood members outside to the police trucks. The divided them into two groups, and I went with the first group. As soon as the exited the mosque grounds, the residents began charging them trying to beat them, but the CSF conscripts cordoned off the area. This happened twice with both groups. Nobody was technically allowed back into the mosque grounds, but I somehow walked right past the officers and conscripts into the mosque grounds. As I was taking a picture of the mosque (as you can see on my timeline) I was pushed inside by a charging group. I turned around and noticed they were MOI special forces. An officer looked at me and asked what i was doing inside. I had no answer so I just said I was a friend of “3ameed [colonel] Ahmed”. I have no idea who that is, but I heard the name being thrown outside by the conscripts. He looked at me and asked me to follow his team, and that if I took pictures he would break my phone.
The special forces team was a team of about 12 soldiers that diverged into the different sections of the mosque seeking out armed perpetrators inside. In one side room about half a floor up, we found four Brotherhood members hiding behind a large wooden shelf. They were armed with homemade pistols and sticks. They surrendered immediately and we took them outside. As soon as I came outside, the special forces went back in to continue clearing the mosque. An officer started questioning who I was and thought I was a Brotherhood member, especially since I just came inside. i was about to be detained, but a conscript and other officer who I had given my water battle to earlier recognized me and let me go. For the next 30 minutes or so, the Special Forces team would constantly open the door and throw people outside the mosque. I thought it might be best to leave the police lines just so I don’t get caught in the mix up and wrongly arrested.
This entire time, I could hear the sound of gunshots. I didn’t know who was shooting or where, but i could recognize the sound of different caliber ammunition. As I walked away from the mosque and towards the Metro station, I came across a group of military personnel carriers. They all had the intimidating “Sa3ka” badges on their uniforms. I stood around talking to a few of the officers there and that’s when I noticed the mosque’s minaret was peppered with gunfire. I asked what had happened and they explained to me that there were Brotherhood snipers inside the minaret firing at them. Because of the size of the minaret and the numerous floors and windows, it was difficult for them to shoot at them from the outside (hence the peppering). They eventually called in an army helicopter to rappel soldiers down to the roof of the mosque to take care of them. And they did.
They also spoke to me about street battles that they felt helpless in because they had not been given orders to fire, until one of their men was shot through his bulletproof vest. That’s when their commander gave them orders to shoot to kill. He continued to tell me that the armed gunmen they were dealing with were not what they were expecting. They were not amateurs and were trained and armed pretty well compared to what they’re used to.
That’s basically all that I saw today.
The conclusion, however, is that things are a complete mess. There is no visible distinction to sides and nobody really knows what’s going on. In the midst of all this chaos, innocent people are losing their lives, and it truly is a shame.
.
Last Thursday, I was graciously invited among many other Irish nationals living here in Egypt and friends of Ireland to attend the Irish Embassy’s St. Patrick’s Day party at the Le Meridian Pyramids Hotel that has a view of the great pharaonic structures, for the ‘Greening’ of the Pyramids. I sign to symbolize friendship between the two nations.
Along with the invitation was an incredible and very unbelievable rate to stay the night at the hotel and have breakfast included for less that 650LE. (that is a bargain!)
The thought of battling traffic to get there and then having to do it again once the party was over did not appeal to me in the least. I RSVPed that I would be in attendance and I also booked a room, (every girl deserves to be pampered every now and then, especially after having suffered from a week-long of sinusitis. Wouldn’t you agree ;).
Thursday evening I arrive with time to spare, checking in took less than five minutes. I was upgraded to deluxe suit overlooking the pool and Pyramids (not bad)! I had enough time to freshen up and get myself ready for an evening of socializing and culture.
When I left my room to make my way to the reception the usual bustle, friendly hum of conversation was noticeably absent once i reached the lobby. When I walked through the restaurant to the area by the pool where the event was being held. The clinking of silver ware and appetizing aroma of meals being cooked was barely noticeable.
The evening was better than I had expected. I met many interesting people of various occupations, I heard Irish musicians who collaborated and were accompanied by 3 bedouin musicians, Irish tunes filled air with a twist of Middle Eastern beats and rhythms, there was a buffet of Irish cheese along with other delicacies and of course a bar stocked with my favorite rich in iron beverage, Guinness!
The following morning I awoke to a very empty and quiet hotel. The restaurant was only a fraction full with a minimal number of tourists and the usual breakfast rush, clattering of plates, shouts of chefs and waiters running around was absent. The pool on a hot sunny day was not in use, there were no squeals of children splashing around or occupied sunbeds. This was indeed a sad sight, it was heartbreaking to see how badly tourism and hotels are suffering.
You can’t help but wonder, why the leader along with politicians are not trying to make more of an effort to bring back the tourists. Why aren’t they taking a step to trying to make the nation a safer place for foreign nations to give their nationals the green light to come back to see our wonders and treasures.
If we can’t make the tourists come back, what are we going to do?
(Winne the Pooh moment, think, think, think)
Here’s a thought, just off the top of my head, Why don’t WE support our industry?
How many of you can honestly say that you have gone to see the attractions that our great nation has?
We need to support our country and the industry by discovering our country.
With discovering our nation, we might be able to instil pride and patriotism of the highest degree!
So what do you say?
Ready to book a trip?
I am.
Two weeks ago on a Saturday morning, I awoke to the tragic news of a terrible , (yet preventable) accident that took place in Assiut, in upper Egypt. A school bus was crossing train tracks to take a group of students to a school located 20+Km away from where they lived to their school, because there isn’t a school nearer to them. The crossing guard was fast asleep at his post with the television on and supposedly with a sheesha in hand too. He didn’t pull the lever that could have saved many lives. The crossing guard, a government employee failed to do his job, which resulted in the death of fifty young lives, whose blood stained the front of the train. Those at the scene couldn’t find words to describe it, they said it was unlike anything they had ever seen in reality or in any horror movie.
This is not the first accident of its kind in Egypt and it will not be the last either. Why? Simply because, our government is and has always been negligent and does not put money back into the system to help maintain machinery, buildings, roads, trains …etc. (God forbid that people should ever feel safe when they have the opportunity to line the inside of their pockets). I am not surprised that it happened again but I am deeply saddened at the suffering and loss that so many families have to endure due to greed. Two of the many families have lost ALL their children in the accident and to add insult to injury, the government initially offered them 5000 Egyptian Pounds blood money per child, which is approximately 817 U.S Dollars. That is less than the price of an IPhone!!
An Egyptian T.V. Talk Show host, Amr Adeeb, totally lost his temper on his show and was infuriated not only because the accident had happened but because the amount of money was a despicable amount to pay for a life of a child. He called all Egyptians, President and the country a failure and said we should be embarrassed. (I would have to agree, we are great at talking the talk but do very little to improve our situation. we would rather sit back, ezzaz (nibble) on lib (sunflower/pumpkins seeds), watch T.V, smoke sheesha and have someone else do it). Adeeb’s ranting and raving did have an impact though… The blood money was bumped up to 50,000 Egyptian Pounds. It’s still not worth the life of a child and it will never take the pain or loss away. I still think they could dig deeper into their pockets and pay a few hundred thousand pounds more per child especially if they are able to spend millions on finding ways to block porn sites.
With bated breath last Thursday I hopped on a train to Alex to see my parents for the Thanksgiving weekend, after the train accident in Assiut, I couldn’t help but wonder if I would reach my destination intact. Not long after I arrived and was sitting with my mother updating her on what’s been going on in my life the past couple of weeks, I logged into face book and twitter and saw my news feed full of colorful descriptions of Egypt’s President elect. (eyes rolled in their sockets and ‘What has he done now’ said the voice in my head)
As a storm brewed over head I wasn’t able to watch ‘THE’ mother of all speeches on satellite so I turned to BlackBerry messenger and Facebook Chat and what I was being told by friends was equally worrying and humorous. Our ‘Democratically’ elected President Morsy had declared himself above and beyond the law. He’s so far above the law that any cases against him from the time he had taken office will be dropped. No one but ‘He’ has the right to dissolve the Shuraa part of the Parliament. He has new evidence against the Mubarak family and their constituents, so they will be retried, (just to name a few) . In less than a year he has given himself more power than any president this country has ever had. He declared himself Caesar/Pharaoh! (yeah, Ceasar/Ramsis II has been reincarnated and is alive and well in Morsy). People sat on their couches with their mouths gaping wide open, with eyes buldging out of their sockets in disbelief! He just pulled the Coup D’Etat card on us!
Naturally people went ballistic!!!
This very man gave his acceptance speech just months ago swearing that he would do right by his country, his people, those who lost their lives, preserve the revolution and will do everything legitimately…. IF he’s forgotten, we can play it back for him, it’s been recorded and there were thousands up thousands of people watching him here in Egypt and throughout the world! If I was to pull the Coup D’Etat card on my country men (not that, I would but if that was my plan) I wouldn’t have done it now… I would have done it after I had won the hearts and minds of the people. NOT NOW when you’re still going through the public’s probation period!
Did he honestly think that people would take it lightly? We got rid of a 30 year dictatorship, we didn’t sign up for it to be replaced with another one with MORE POWERS than the previous one. This is like something out of Greek Mythology, Slayers behead the beast and the people hail their bravery and victory of slaying the beast, only to find out later that the beast wasn’t dead, it had grown another head !
So, now what?
Do we all run out and buy Aabayas (burkaas) and galaabeyas? Do bars, cinemas and night clubs go extinct or underground? Does the age for marriage drop below puberty? Do women find themselves back behind the kitchen counters mastering grandmother’s old recipes and popping out kids every 9 months?
No!!! We make our voices heard and let him and his bearded buddies know that not everyone supports his decree and that he needs to take it back! The following day, Friday November 23, people across Egypt who opposed Morsy’s decree took to the streets in protest! Several Egyptian governorates made their voices heard! They did not and would not accept his ‘temporary’ power at the helm of Egypt! He infuriated people so much that they stormed the Freedom of Justice Party offices in several cities, looted them and in Alexandria they found a bra, which the stormers held out onto the balcony to show the watching public! Then they torched the place.
Last Tuesday another protest was scheduled and the friction between the pro and anti Morsy fractions could be felt on the streets. Many schools decided to not open that day for fear that there might be violence and that students and teachers might not get home in time before the show down. The MB in Cairo were scheduled to march that day too, but decided to post-pone it to a later date for fear of violent clashes. In Alexandria there was a stand-off between the two parties but I didn’t hear of any major incidents. Mansoura demonstrated their disapproval of the president’s decree and also stormed the FJP headquarters there. Mahalla got the brunt of it, Morsy supporters were out in full force and fired live ammo on the protestors, resulting in many casulaties.
Today is Friday, November 30th and another protest is scheduled to take place today… tensions are running very high especially with the threat of MB and Morsy supporters threatening to lash out on those who do not support Morsy.
Presently Egypt is divided into two unequal fractions. Those who support the president and his decree and those who don’t. If we are going to be honest, we are out numbered by the supporters, which automatically reminds me of Lord of The Rings and the battle for middle earth. I hope that things end as well as they did in the book for Egypt and her people’s sake!