Diamonds

We were a few friends walking at night. To a gas station to buy beer or something. It was a cold night in Tucson. We were bored, just killing time. We were walking down Grant towards Park street I think, where there was a Circle K.

On the way we passed a parking lot with exactly one car and one dirty bum. The bum was kneeling down beside the car and in the dim glow of a street light was feeling around underneath the body of the vehicle. He heard us walking by and looked up and motioned for us to come over. We hesitated, and looked far down the street towards the gas station. It was just us and the streetlight and the empty lot and the car and our breath. And the homeless guy. We walked up. He was talking about something and he was excited.

He asked if we had a flashlight. Nope. I had a lighter, I gave it to him. He smiled, walked around to the far side of the car and got on his knees. I crouched down and saw his face underneath the car in the weak light of the fire. I tried to see what he was looking at. He was in awe. He kept muttering, ”Diamonds, look at all those diamonds!” All I could see, reflecting in the light, were tiny pieces of broken glass.  

That is how you find treasure in a parking lot.

A quick thought on a book. And my address.

Disclaimer: this blog has nothing to do with the Peace Corps in any official way.

So. I just finished reading a book called “The Book of Embraces” by Eduardo Galeano. If I remember correctly he is from Uraguay, and he mentions in the book that he had been in exile for quite some time. For political reasons. The book is a quick read, split into many short chapters. Each chapter is at most two or pages long and treats a different subject. Each is titled with a subject “On dreams” “Beauracracy” etc . . . Page after page of thoughts, memories, thinly veiled fables and worldviews. There are some wonderful pictures that Galeano conjures up with his words. I wish to read it in the original Spanish one day.

 I believe that every book, every story is a conversation with the reader. A conversation between the reader and the author, and one between the reader and characters that live in the book. I talked with Mr. Galeano quite a bit. I’m not sure that I have much in common with Eduardo, but after reading one particular chapter I realized that we are equally bad at saying goodbye. But, he’ll never know that.

Anyhow, here in Morocco with the Peace Corps.

Here’s my address. Go ahead. Write me a letter. I can’t recieve packages yet, so no cookies!

Will Stewart, Trainee

S/C Corps de  la Paix

2, Rue Abou Marouane Essaadi, Agdal

Rabat 10100, Morocco

The Modern Art Museum and the Volkswagons of Cairo

Made my way downtown last week in an effort to check out the Modern Art Museum. The Museum is located on an island in the middle of the Nile. The part of the island that it is on is called “Gezira” or — Island. Nice, right? I decided that in addition to my primary goal of locating and looking around the museum, I would also take some pictures.

I used to take a lot of pictures before my camera broke. My mom just bought a new one, and so I figured that I may as well borrow it and take a few snapshots. I’m leaving soon and really haven’t taken that many photos. I usually feel self-conscious when taking pictures of people going about their daily lives — especially if I’m in another country. Also, I  think that pictures of buildings and landscapes are usually pretty joyless.

I found a nice compromise.

In the end, I was foiled by bizarre gallery hours, but I got to get some nice fotes of some of Cairo’s many VWs along the way.

I also side-missioned on a quest to find a particular Adel Imam flick and in the process got covered in three kinds of perfume oils.

The one human featured is Mo’men. Gracious smile.

Change

When China decides to change its first regime;

I will blow a kiss towards Tiananmen

When I can shake my head and mutter “China” – ah!

When every film I watch is in Mandarin.

When I eat rice three times a day — when the color red lines the streets.

When the Chinese fix the Arabs and the Jews – thank God.

I will finally be free.

Until then, I will hope for change.

Meet my evil twin, William Stewart.

Have you ever googled yourself?

Neither have I.  

But at my request, my sister googled me and apparently, found my evil twin.

Scraggly-haired and crime-thirsty, William Stewart of New Zealand’s South Island is a strange man. He is meth-addled and violent. Aparently the type that Kiwis really take to. 

Basically, Stewart, is on the run from police, and is quite good at not being caught. According to this article he does it by “using bushcraft and ‘the luck of the Irish.’ ”  Nice.

To summarize: he steals things from people’s kitchens, carves his name into their tables and occasionally asks a passing motorist if they know where he can score some meth. Then he evades the police some more and perhaps steals a car. Then he plays in a local Van Halen cover band, smokes some meth, beats of his girlfriend and runs away from more cops.

Not that Americans aren’t into immortalizing criminals.

We have Bonny and Clyde, the Daltons, Pretty Boy Floyd, and John Dillinger. They’re fun to sing songs about, but in actuality they were  probably huge jerks. 

Pretty much the only criminals I like to root for, by the way, are bank robbers. They make me smile. As long as no one gets hurt, bank robbery is pretty much a victimless crime. Very romantic. Maybe to many viewings of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance kid for me. But, back to Stewart. 

So, whether or not the story is being played up just because it is a good story, it seems that New Zealanders are already immortalising “Billy” and even making a little money off of him: Public holidays, songs, and t-shirts have been inspired by his life on the run.

I guess that sometimes, it’s just nice to see someone sticking it to the man. Especially when they say stupid things like:

“I wouldn’t trust him, and I wouldn’t rely on him not to have a firearm.” -A word to the wise from New Zealand

detective John Rae.                                                                                                                                                                                                                        

Further reading:   

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/asia-pacific/8048162.stm

I guess that, in the end, I’m just adding to your fame, William. But do try to stop using methamphetamines, they’re a bummer.  Also, try not to sully my good name.

Here’s a pic I found.

I wonder if he’s googled himself?

Swine Flu humor in Egypt

I was surprised when I read in a newspaper a few weeks ago that Egyptian authorities gave the order for all Egyptian pigs to be slaughtered.

First of all, I was surprised to hear that there are (or were) 300,000 plus pigs in Egypt. In a country in which the vast majority of people cannot eat pork due to their religion, this seemed a large number — but hey, what do I know?

Secondly, the flu, if it hits Egypt, will be introduced by some tourist getting off of a plane, not by the pigs.

The Egyptian government has of late has been criticized for not responding appropriately to various incidents or mismanagement of them anyways . Some of which include, a rock slide that killed lots of people, a government building burning down, indifference to the plight of the people of Gaza etc. Now, it seems like they’re trying to make up for it by totally overreacting to the newest crises.

To be fair, Egyptians have been hit really hard by avian influenza and an outbreak of H1N1 could be potentially even more devastating.

But, that still doesn’t change the fact that  it would make more sense to slaughter tourists than pigs . . .

Good news for the pigs though — at the rate that they are being slaughtered, it will take three years to kill ‘em all. I doubt that the government will follow through.

The irony of the whole situation is not lost on the Egyptian public.

Here’s a cartoon I found. It hardly needs translation, but I will give an approximation regardless.Comical!

One pig to the other:

“The whole country is full of diseases, where can one go?”

Cairo: the Good the bad and the Fugly

My time here in Cairo is coming to a close. Having been here for 9 months solid, I really still feel pretty new to this place. It has been a special experience: first time living in a big city, first time relying heavily on public transport, my first experience as a teacher and a host of other firsts. I’ve seen some interesting things, weird things even. The following is a list of things which I group into the categories of the good, the bad and the fugly. Please read all three catagories; those things which are listed in the “bad” aren’t meant to be attacks — just observations.

I’ll get the bad things out of the way first. 

There are the usual ones, things you could guess. The traffic, the pollution, the corruption, lack of political freedom etc. Those things are pretty much ubiquitous here. Cairo has the worst air pollution of any major city in the world. As a friend pointed out, Mexico City which is second to Cairo in the sickening qualities of its air, is located in a sort of depression and is surrounded by higher ground. The effect of which is that the pollution gets trapped in and doesn’t circulate out very easily. Cairo, on the other hand has no such geographical excuse. Cough, cough.

Supposedly, the amount of carcinogenic matter breathed in one day of city living is as damaging as smoking a pack of cigarettes a day.

The corruption is unbelievable, although, this time, I bet that Mexico probably has Egypt beat. For you Americans, can you even imagine trying to bribe a state trooper to get out of a speeding ticket? “Hey officer, how ’bout I slip you a 20 and we forget this whole thing ever happened.”  Wink, wink. Nervous laughter.

Here, corruption is so rampant that it almost cannot be called corruption. It’s the norm. It’s all about who you know, and how much you can afford. Period.

One of my least favorite things about meeting new people here, is that at some point they will pop the question. The one that goes like:  ”So, I have a favor to ask you . . .” Many times, it seems like people just use you as a resource. Which, is actually quite understandable, but can also get really old.

The most common one I personally hear is Uh, ya so you’re an American and I really want to go to the States, and your dad works for the Embassy, right, so obviously you can help me get a visa in a matter of weeks? To which I reply: Ya, he works there, but he doesn’t do anything that has to do with visas and can’t pull strings and twist arms for you, because that’s called corruption. It’s generally not allowed. I’m more than happy to help out and give advice to friends, but when everybody is hitting you up all the time, it blows. Hard.

Now, I’ll talk about the Fugly.

Pretty much the most unsavory thing about Cairo, doesn’t even affect me. It’s the extremely nasty environment of sexual harassment that pervades life here. I think it would sort of suck  to be a teenage girl here. According to a BBC survey, 98% of foreign women report being harrassed in some way shape or form. 

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/7514567.stm.

That being said, it’s not like life is total hell here for girls — or that every Egyptian guy is a pervert. A policeman once old me something like 90 percent of crime is done by 10 percent of the people. I hope that it’s the same here with harassment.

Alright, glad to have gotten that out of the way.

 

Ok, now the Good!

 

There are so many good things that I have to carefully pick and choose.

I will begin withمسقعة  Musa’aa. Musa’aa, as far as I know, is my favorite food ever. The Greeks and Balkan peoples eat Moussakka, a version of the Egyptian or Leventine Musa’aa (or pronounced Musaqaa depending on where you hail from.) Basically, it’s a spicy eggplant dish with a tangy tomato base. I can get musa’aa and french fries stuffed into a pita for 30  cents. It’s so good, that I ate it for lunch for a month straight.  I still get it all the time. Also, it’s really really fun to pronounce. I would never have known the magic of eggplant had it not been for Cairo. Hat’s off to you!

Next, the public transportation.  It’s great. Granted, it’s my first time relying heavily on public transport, but it is super useful. I have seen the light. I have ridden on trains, the backs of scooters, the metro, taken taxis, ferries, microbusses, Tuk-Tuks, city buses — you name it, they’ve got it. And it’s cheap and fairly reliable. I use the metro almost everyday. It would cost you 17 cents to ride from one end of the line to the next. priceless.

Cafes. There are probably more cafes in Cairo per capita than anywhere in the world. You wanna sit back, play backgammon, smoke a pipe, have a fresh squeezed juice and not be hassled for taking your sweet time about it? This is the place that can happen. Like every fifty meters. You wanna do those things at three in the morning for less than four bucks? No problem. If I were a writer, this is where I’d come hide out, live on the cheap and write all night. If you like to live at night, and if you like to tell jokes and just talk — this is heaven.

For purpose of practicing Arabic. So far, it is in my opinion, this is the best place to learn Arabic. I studied for years at college, and in a matter of months have learned twice as much without taking lessons. People here are down to talk. You want to practice your Arabic, you grab someone by the arm and you have a tutor. This method may come back to haunt you though. There are countless language schools, opportunities to practice on the street and let’s not forget, Egypt is like the Hollywood of the Middle East. It’s a powerhouse of film, music and Arabic literature — all great ways to be exposed to a language. Amr Diab, Naguib Mahfouz, Omar Sharif, Adel Imam. Egyptians.

The sites. It’s hard to beat Egypt for history. Of course, you have the pyramids. But there are also countless things to see from the times of the great Islamic Empires. Mosques that are a thousand years old which are full of beautiful calligraphy. Castles and city walls delicately crenelated and wonderfully constructed. Egypt has a Christian heritage as well. Old, old churches and monasteries. Communal monsaticism began in Egypt. It’s a great wandering city. Sometimes I just walk around because, I know I’ll find something cool. I always do.

The Nile. It’s just something you hear about and is part of your consciousness — probably regardless of where you’re from. It’s ancient, beautiful. It runs through the city demarcating West from East. It figures heavily in Egyptian mythology. The baby Moses floated down it in a reed basket. Alexander, and Napoleon doubtless marched armies alongside it. David Livingstone searched for it’s source. Walking along the river, especially on a cool night is special. And, of course, it’s hard to beat a felucca ride at sunset. (felucca = Egyptian sailboat)

The feeling of security. I’m pretty sure it’s the safest city of it’s size. Any city in Europe, the states, whatever — way more to worry about. For a city of 20 million, I’ve never felt threatened. Dark alley on the way home at 1 in the morning? Not a care. Riding the Metro late at night? Super relaxed. There was more petty theft and violent crime within three blocks of where I lived in Tucson than anywhere I can think of here. Maybe Tucson is a bad example . . .

The Egyptians themselves are alone worth experiencing. Totally unique in the scheme of things. Really outgoing, fatalistic, charming, persuasive, jokers. The Egyptians love jokes. Wordplay, puns, phrases. I happen to love those things as well, and so this truly endears them to me. 

I’ll leave it with a wonderful Egyptian phrase that captures well the vicissitudes of life.

 

يوم في يدك يوم في غير يدك

This translates to “One day you got in your hand (palm), the next day is out of your hand

Of course there is the really Egyptian way to say it . . .

يوم في يدك يوم في طيزك 

I’ll leave it at that.

So, that kind of ends the summary.

I didn’t want just to make a list of pros and cons, but that’s basically what it ended up being. I’m still a total beginner at Egypt, but after will have been 12 months, I’m starting to get a feel for what its all about. Let me know if you got any thoughts!

Things that I have used as bookmarks

I can be OCD about some things.

I always eat quickly for example — it can be quite ugly to watch me get to it when I’m actually hungry.  I obsessively check the alarm clock on my phone at least thrice before going to bed to make sure that it’s on and will wake me up in the morning.

Of course, there are those things which I’m not extremely particular about. Future plans, time at which I wake up (if I don’t have anything in the morning), what I wear etc . . .

Then, there are some things which it seems I subconsciously make sure to surround with chaos and anarchy.

One is my inability to listen to someone speak for any length of time. Anyone who knows me, has seen that far off look that I will inevitably get at some point during a conversation.  It’s not that I like to ignore people, or even that I’m thinking about something. My mind just goes somewhere else. Can’t control it.

A nice physical parallel can be seen in the way I use random things for bookmarks.

Here is a picture of things that I have made use of  in the last month alone.

Starting in top-left corner moving right. 1.) Ticket to Uum Kalthoum Museum 2.) The story of Abraham in Arabic. 3.) My Phone. 4.) 25 piastre note — probably not worth the paper it’s printed on. 5.) Piece of bog roll. 6.) An orange felt-tipped marker. 7.) A postcard 8.) A bookmark with an Alligator on the front. 9.) A flashcard.

What does it all mean???

bookmarks

Unicycle erm . . . Journals part 2

A few weeks ago I rode, on a one-wheeled bike, from one side of my back yard to the other. I had given myself a week to do it, and surprised myself by practising every day for at least an hour in pursuit of my goal. Lots of brusies.

I decided to document the different stages of my unicycle evolution, and so the very first time that I tried to get on the thing, I had my sister’s friend Courtney come film my efforts. Then a few days later I had Alexandra, my youngest sister bear with me as I messed around on the roof. I kind of learned how to juggle as well.

The last thing I did was have Alex film me in the yard. Unicycling is a lot of fun. I’d recommend it to anyone.

 

Part of the inspiration for the middle section of the movie clip, was the movie Benny and Joon. If you haven’t seen it, it’s more or less a love story involving two slightly, uh, idyosyncratic people. One character, played by Johnny Depp, is a disciple of Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin; throughout the movie he affects Chaplain and Keaton’s physical humour and puts on impromptou stage shows. For some reason, I found them really mesmerising. 

There were other parts of the movie that I related to as well. At one point, Joon, who is supposed to be schitzophrenic, pours Penut Butter Captain Crunch into a blender, adds  milk and creates breakfast. I paused the movie at that point–because I’ve defintely had that breakfast before . . .

Sunflowers – A’guz a tani

Well! My, my. Spring is here at last. This means that the weather will be getting nasty and the windy season will soon overtake us and will be heaping extra dust onto everything.

But, my sunflowers have started to bloom and that is consolation of a sort. The winter wasn’t particularly cold — perhaps that’s why I have been impatient in waiting for the flowers to show. But, now they are here, making life a little more pleasant.

They are as yellow as can be.

Two of them woke up very lazily one day and I expect the rest to follow their example. They are a very individualistic bunch though. Some are very tiny. Some are ten feet tall. And all from the same handful of seeds! The ones that have bloomed are the second tallest, and the second smallest. Also, they always seems to be pointed in different directions at the end of the day. I figure that after the sun goes down, they should all be pointing west.

But they don’t.

Kabloom!Lazily openingThe Sneaky OneJolly Yellows