** V I S I T ** E G Y P T ! ! ! **

On Friday I went to a rally to promote tourism in Egypt.

Millions of tourists fled Egypt at the start of the Revolution, and although the country is basically back to normal and perfectly safe, people are not returning in great numbers yet. So many people rely on tourism for work, and it is a hugely significant part of the national economy (and more so in particular areas, like Luxor or the Red Sea resorts.)

So a group of young people in Alexandria decided to take a positive step and hold this celebration of Egypt to send out the message that the country is open for business again, and ready to welcome visitors.

We gathered at the Alexandria Library at 8 a.m. It was not warm! I have become totally acclimatised to the weather here, so although it was much like a Spring morning in England (albeit with a strong sea breeze) I was freezing!

Here are the first people gathering. At this stage it was just a couple of hundred people:

The glass building to the left of the photo (behind the palm trees) is the Alexandria Library (more info on their website here). The dome-shaped building is the Planetarium.

Many of those participating were students. These girls represented the Faculty of Tourism and Hotels, at the University of Alexandria:

  

Here's a closer look at the girl on the left:

Let me digress a little... "God Willing" is the translation of the VERY common Arabic phrase "Inshallah". People in Egypt will use this word in pretty much every conversation at some point. It's just not the done thing to talk about anything in the future without saying "Inshallah". In English, it can sound a bit worrying - for example if your pilot says "we'll be landing soon, God willing." So an English person would happily promote Egypt with the words "Egypt is safe" but an Egyptian has to say "God willing, Egypt is safe."

It was not all young people (though mostly). This woman was very keen for me to take her photo:

Gradually more and more people arrived, mainly dressed in red, white and black, which are the colours of the Egyptian flag. After a few speeches, we set off to walk the two miles or so along the sea-front to the 15th century Qaitbey Fort.

People were carrying signs or banners welcoming back tourists in many different languages (some written more accurately than others...)

The girl on the left is my friend Asmaa who invited me to the event.
(Note that the sign on the right helpfully has a Latin translation, presumably for the benefit of the many Ancient Romans who visit Egypt each year.)

After an hour or so, we arrived in front of the Fort, and waited for the long train of people to catch up (there were several thousand by this point.) Everyone gathered round, and some gymnasts entertained the crowds:

In the background of the second picture, you can see the Fort itself. It was built in the 15th century on the site of what was in ancient times the Pharos - the Great Lighthouse, one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. By that time the lighthouse had fallen into ruins (though it had still been standing only a century before) and some of its stones were recycled into the foundations of the Citadel.

Finally, everyone gathered to form a huge Egyptian flag on the steps:

It was a really great event, and I wish this kind of thing could be seen on the news, as well as the unrest and uprising. People are SO positive at the moment, and it's a great time to visit Egypt. Patrick's parents have just arrived for a 2-week visit, and they have been bowled over by the welcome they have received. (For example, they were given a bouquet of flowers at the airport saying 'welcome to Egypt', and everywhere they go, people stop them to say welcome, thank you for coming, enjoy your trip.)

So here's a final message from one of the girls I met - "Support Freedom & visit Egypt". Says it all really!

Back in Alexandria

We are now back in Alexandria, and life seems pretty much back to normal - apart from a number of burnt out police stations and a lot of tanks still deployed on the streets. Here's one outside a bank behind the Alexandria Library:

As you can see, they have become a bit of a tourist attraction, with families taking pictures of their kids sat on a tank, or with the soldiers.

There are other, more subtle changes though. The first is in freedom of expression - people are openly debating politics in a way that just didn't happen before. A few days ago I listened to a couple of friends discuss the state of the country. One had participated in the demonstrations throughout and could not be prouder of what had happened. The other was still vehemently pro-Mubarak and saw what had happened to him as sacrilege. This conversation wouldn't (couldn't) have taken place just a month ago. It was impressive to witness. (And nice that all the political/media Arabic vocab we've been studying has come to good use!)

The second change is a little more subtle. People seem much prouder of their country and of themselves. It is not just about freedom of expression, but a belief that their actions can have a positive impact on society.

During the unrest, the police deserted the streets. Neighbourhoods set up "People's Committees" to guard the streets at night. At the start of the unrest, these were described in the media as 'vigilante' groups, but that is a rather negative way of describing what has actually been remarkable community action. Night after night, people worked together with their neighbours, who they might not have ever met before, to collectively ensure the streets stayed safe. (Alexandria is a densely populated city, so even the leafy suburbs consist of high-rise apartment blocks - so it's not easy to meet people in the same way as it is on a street of houses.) Others also gathered up rubbish, because regular collections had stopped. Everyone we've spoken to who participated in these Committees has said what a great thing they were - people met for the first time, discovered the power of working together, and were able to play a real role in society, perhaps for the first time. We've seen the difference in various young guys we know - they seem a little more confident, stand a little taller, believe that they can make a positive difference.

Right now, outside our flat, a group of teenagers is cleaning the street:

 People all over Egypt are helping to clear up after the protests. This woman posting on the CNN site puts it very well:

"Every Egyptian wanted to help clean up the square  after the Revolution.

Me and my friends volunteered in cleaning the streets.
I wanted to see a new Egypt without the dirt of the past.
This revolution didn't only change the people in power, it awakened something in every single Egyptian that made him eager to build a new country for a brighter future ."

For the kids in our neighbourhood, it's not just cleaning up from what happened over the last few weeks - it's 'ordinary' rubbish on the streets, sorting recycling, repainting tram stations, and generally making the streets cleaner than they were before.

Otherwise, life goes on as normal - but it's a cleaner, more optimistic normal. Which is nice!

A sad start to the year

Early this morning, shortly after the new year began, a car bomb went off outside a church in Alexandria, targeting Christian worshippers leaving a service to celebrate the new year. The death toll so far stands at 21, with another 83 wounded – including both Christians and Muslims.

Any loss of human life in such a way is a tragedy, but what makes this event even sadder in my eyes is that it is at such odds with the tolerant and welcoming attitudes we have experienced from everyone we have met in Egypt.

In Cairo last week, we took a taxi from our hotel to the Khan el-Khalili - a journey of less than 3km which took almost an hour due to horrific traffic jams. Our taxi driver was rather taken with the oddity of two Arabic-speaking foreigners in his taxi, so we chatted quite happily through the whole journey. The subject turned, as it often does, to religion.

"We welcome any religion," he said. "There are two Christian families in my building. They are like my brothers. In fact closer than my brothers. They are my good friends." We went on to discuss differences in marriage, relationships, alcohol, friendships - differences between Egypt and England, Muslim and Christian, and other combinations of these 4 variables.

We have had so many similar conversations with people - open-minded, tolerant, and wanting to learn more about what is different, and what is the same.

The newspapers this morning report that official sources believe foreign groups were behind the attack. But whoever perpetrated this horrible crime, I can’t help but feel that any such sectarian violence is not just an attack on one group, but on all of Egypt; on the beautiful city of Alexandria; on the tolerant and intelligent Egyptian people, whom we have come to love and respect so much over the last few months. It is a sad start to the new year.

The infamous Egyptian taxi driver.

I recently read a blog post written by a friend of Patrick’s sister, who lives and works in Libya. In it, she describes the traffic in Tripoli in all it’s terror-inspiring madness. You can read her blog post here.  The picture is all too familiar to us here in Alexandria, especially the bit about every journey feeling like a fairground ride, with the added dimension of possible death.

It is fair to say that most taxi drivers here (with a few honourable exceptions) are entirely mad – not so much as a screw loose, more like one single screw holding their sanity together.

However it is necessary to award them a certain degree of admiration for their death-defying antics. A particular favourite of mine is what we have termed the “Magician Manoeuvre.” In one hand he holds his mobile phone so he can update his wife that yes, he is still driving down Abu Qir Street, as he has been all day; in the other hand he waves a lit cigarette; with the other hand he adjusts the radio, and with the fourth hand he changes gear. In between calls to his wife he sings along to the radio, gesticulates at people trying to  cross the road, chats to his passengers or shouts greetings to fellow taxi drivers through the open window. Throughout the whole process he weaves constantly back and forth across 3 lanes of traffic, dodging cars, motorbikes, bicycles, pedestrians, traffic cops, horses, donkeys, fruit and veg handcarts, kids playing football, etc.

A skilled driver does not let such a minor thing as lanes interfere with his quest. He thinks nothing of nipping into the fast lane for 2 seconds to overtake a solitary car, before cutting back across 5 lanes of traffic to make a right turn.

Here’s a fun game: Taxi Tat Bingo. Last week we rode in a taxi with 4 sets of furry dice, 2 dangly Quranic verses, 3 pictures of his kids, a fake-fur dashboard cover with matching parcel shelf, a golden tissue box and 7 auxiliary mirrors. There was no air freshener or 4x4 sticker, or it would have been a full house.

The Overcharger. You know you’re going to be overcharged by a couple of subtle signs: the driver changes the music to Celine Dion or Whitney Houston, and tries to befriend you in a particular type of English used only in taxis, by touts at the pyramids, and by young men in Luxor.

Our strangest (and scariest) taxi ride happened a few weeks ago. A few minutes into the journey, the driver pulled over, said “two seconds” and disappeared, leaving the engine running. When he reappeared he was clutching something in a plastic bag. It turned out to be a can of beer, which he opened and polished off as we continued on our way (making all the manoeuvres described above). I shut my eyes and prayed… and thankfully the back streets were relatively empty. But we decided to get out of the taxi before we got to Big Scary Main Road, as for once it was less scary to cross six lanes of traffic on foot than with a drink-and-driver.

Anyway, onto those notable exceptions:

• Patrick's new best friend: one morning, Patrick forgot his bag, and had to get out of the taxi on the way to classes and go back for it. In his second taxi, the driver started chatting in Arabic. “Where are you from? Ah, England. Welcome to Egypt! We are very pleased you are here! Do you like Alexandria? Oh, good, I am very glad!...” etc etc. When they got to the language centre he refused payment, because he was so happy that Patrick was studying Arabic.

• The philosopher: a few days later our driver started speaking to us in English. At first (of course) we suspected that he might be an Overcharger, but no. It transpired that he studied philosophy at university, and we were treated to some choice (long) quotes from Bertrand Russell. Nothing like a bit of philosophising before breakfast.

• The good driver: we were privileged to experience Alexandria’s one good taxi driver  - possibly the only one who has actually taken driving lessons. He stopped at traffic lights (the only one doing so), did what the traffic police asked, stopped to let old ladies cross the road – and made sure other drivers did the same. He might be related to this guy here

Anyway, it turns out that driving carefully and respectfully is a much more effective way of earning a higher fare than regaling us with Misses Dion and Houston, or shaving 5 seconds off the journey time by cutting up 14 vehicles and a donkey in a diagonal screech across the wrong side of the road. We voluntarily paid this guy double for the joy and delight of arriving with our nerves intact. Now if only a few other taxi drivers would follow his example!!

Venice of the East

Winter has started with a bang – literally. On Saturday night an enormous clap of thunder split the sky right above the café where we were sitting, to the extent that we waited in silence for a few moments, expecting the building to fall down, or all known life to be destroyed by a nuclear blast.

A nice lady we chatted to in the café said she was very pleased that she had bought an umbrella on a trip to Manchester in the summer, as she knew it would be good enough to withstand the rain. (Incidentally, she also said that one of the things that impressed her most about England was the queuing. This is not something I have ever thought particularly characterised our nation, but yes, I agree with her – standing in line quietly, rather than joining a massive scrum and getting shunted around, is something I do miss!)

On Sunday morning on the way to Arabic classes, we faced an unexpected dilemma: a lake at the bottom of our road:

  

While we were waiting for a taxi the hailstones started:

This is Abu Qir Street, one of the city's main roads:

On our way home again, our taxi took to the water once more in a very unconvincing gondola impression:

 

There is some very watery footage on youtube too:

But fear not, my friends at home, once more in the grip of the ‘arctic chill’. The Egyptian winter seems to have thundered itself to a halt. Today (Tuesday) is sunny again, with temperatures pleasant for the rest of the week:

The weather (don't hate me)

Britain has apparently been plunged into a new ice age - at least judging by the facebook updates of most of my friends.

Meanwhile, Egypt is currently enjoying unseasonably warm temperatures. The days languish in the mid-twenties, while the nights never dip below the mid-teens. Nevertheless, the police have changed into their winter uniforms (black instead of white; long-sleeves instead of short; jackets and boots) which is the cue for everyone else to switch wardrobe too. Suddenly everyone is in long sleeves and jumpers, even coats. At night, kids are wrapped up in hats and scarves, and babies are swaddled in fleecy blankets. Fur-lined boots even make the odd appearance.

It's like the British summer - you know, when we insist on short-sleeves, sandals, cotton and linen, never mind that it's 4 degrees and raining.

Looking at everyone's snowy pictures, I felt a few pangs of jealousy yesterday. I love snow. I also like bundling up in winter clothes, the smell of cold air, and the lovely feeling of coming into a warm house afterwards. But then I looked out into our garden where the sun is shining through the palm trees, silhouetted against the blue sky, and decided that actually it's not so bad here after all. Like I said in the title, don't hate me!

View from our flat window

Re-connected!

Finally, we have an internet connection at home!  I have been using the wireless connection at the language centre on my phone for the last couple of weeks - useful, but not very convenient.

So here's a quick update:

• we have moved into our new flat!
• we have radically reduced the cockroach population of the kitchen, which has taken many bottles of disinfectant, spray, powder, sanity, a lot of tears, a small amount of standing on kitchen chairs and shrieking, a new hoover, and a lot of energy!
• Arabic classes have been going for a couple of weeks.  It has been a bit up and down, as to start with we were in a big class that was revising stuff I did about 3 years ago, but now we are having our lessons privately so things are going a lot quicker. 
• The doorman of our building has a very friendly cat :-)

Much more to follow in a longer update, but for now I'll leave you with this warning, printed on the extension cable (a.k.a. "Displacement Function Electrical Outlet") that Patrick bought today:

"When use please anp the power source the rope to untle"

So there.

The story so far...

Well, we have been in Egypt 4 weeks today, and I have been writing a very successful "head-blog" about all our activities so far.  Blogging in your head is much easier and in many ways more satisfactory than bothering to write it all down, and you are guaranteed 100% positive feedback.  However it does mean people still keep asking me what we have been up to, so here goes...(and trust me, it was a lot more exciting, witty and entertaining when it was just in my head!)

We flew to Sharm el Sheikh on 28 August, and took a taxi straight to the town of Dahab, which is about 100km north of Sharm el Sheikh, in the south of the Sinai peninsula, on the Red Sea.  It is a peaceful, fabulous seaside town, with relaxing restaurants on the water's edge and coral reef right by.  We planned to spend 2 days (recovery time after the insanity of packing up the house!) but ended up staying an extra 3 days.

This meant that we had plenty of time to catch up with Amy Pritchard (former colleague of mine from NHS Richmond) who moved to Dahab in April to set up a yoga camp - the rather lovely El Salam Camp & Yoga Shala.  They have evening yoga classes 4 times a week, and they have monthly 10 day retreats planned - hopefully I'll get a chance to attend one over the next year!

Finally we forced ourselves to leave, and arrived in Alexandria by 10-hour taxi ride through the night. This took us via Cairo, where we drove past Giza, and Patrick got to see the pyramids for the first time.

We spent the next 2 weeks in the Swiss Canal hotel.  (It took us a while to work out that if you write "Swiss" and "Suez" in Arabic they look basically the same...)  During this time I spent a lot of time revising from "Al Kitab", the Arabic book we'll be using for classes, Patrick spent a lot of time setting up his mobile broadband connection and working, we found a flat (though we can't move into it till 1 October), had various adventures in Arabic (ordering food, buying a loo brush, ordering food, buying bus tickets, ordering food, ordering drinks, ordering food...)

Since classes didn't start till 26 September, and the flat wasn't available yet, we decided to go to Siwa Oasis for a week.  I visited Siwa for a week in 2003 and it is one of my favourite places in the whole world.  Siwa deserves a post of its own, so more on that later!

Now we are back in Alexandria, staying in a different hotel, in a 'deluxe' room with the most incredible view of the harbour.  We have successfully extended our visas for an additional 6 months.  (Patrick is going to write a special post about the bureaucracy involved!)  Arabic classes start tomorrow, and all's well with the world, insh'allah!