** 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!

10 days and counting

It’s a quarter past mid-day and Friday Prayers are in progress. The TV is on, and we can see the crowds massed in Tahrir Square. Outside our flat the fields are quiet apart from sound of the prayers from the mosque at the end of the lane – and the rumble of a passing tractor, since harvests and animals don’t wait for politics.

Tahrir Square is now the quietest it has been for 10 days, as the prayers go on. I would imagine that all across Egypt, people are similarly quiet, waiting to see what happens next.  (The moments after Friday prayers are typically when unrest begins – as people who have gathered together begin to leave mosques.)

We can hear 3 mosques now from our balcony (the one at the end of the lane was a little ahead of the others.) The noise is great: “God is great.”

* * * * *

I have been thinking long and hard since I posted my last update. Sitting down now to write, I want to pass on some of the different feelings people have expressed to me over the last week. I think the people I know or have met in passing represent a fairly broad range of social class and outlook: well-off or not; university degrees or barely literate; Muslim and Christian; from town or country or between the two as many are, living in the city but with strong ties to their family’s villages.

It would be nice to say that a single voice unites these people, but this is not the case.

Many of my friends have made their antipathy to the government clear on Facebook in recent days. But a good deal of others have expressed their support for Mubarak. It isn’t possible to determine what ‘type’ of person might express one view or the other. It isn’t about what your religious views are, or your social background. One religious conservative I know is staunchly with the government. Another is desperate for reform. There are the same differences with friends who have been educated at international schools (in English with a US or UK curriculum).

But then why should we expect anything else? In the UK and in America, we might make some broad assumptions about what sort of person is Tory or Labour, Republican or Democrat, but in fact support could come from anywhere. Remember this point – I’ll come back to it later.

My overall impression is that nearly everyone wants change, that most people think that Mubarak’s government is the first thing that needs to change, but that when it comes to the timescales, particularly with the fear of chaos, voices are much less unified.

* * * * *

Over the last few days the biggest group of people, from both sides of the debate, have been calling simply for calm to resume.

This is the great difficulty. Tourists have fled from Luxor in their thousands. Most of the foreigners who remain are long-term residents. Tourism is the life-blood of Luxor. A Canadian neighbour who went across the river yesterday reported that the five-star hotels are essentially empty, and the staff have been sent home (and won’t get paid as a result.)

Reports from other towns are grim. TV cameras are tuned on Cairo and Alexandria, (and tourist-sustained Luxor is a different kettle of fish.) But a young man with relatives in Minya, for example, reports that the situation there is bad. Similarly an old internet friend reports that in Port Said order has broken down: they are relying on the Imam from the nearest mosque to warn them over the loudspeakers when looters are approaching their building, so they can defend themselves with sticks and stones.

* * * * *

Yesterday in an interview with ABC News, President Mubarak said that he feared such chaos if he stood down now. The irony here is that in trying to fortify his position in this way, he has exposed the greatest weakness of his system. Egypt is a country of 80 million people. It borders Sudan, Israel, Libya and Jordan. It joins Europe to the oil supplies of the Gulf via the Suez Canal. If the stability of all this is contingent upon the rule of ONE man, as Mubarak claims, then the world has a lot to worry about. He’s in his eighties, don’t forget.

On the other hand, if an American president fell, or a British Prime Minister, or a German chancellor, then the world might sense the ripples, but the apparatus of that country would continue. The police would continue to protect citizens and maintain the law; the financial system would go on functioning, and people would get paid. Belgium has functioned without a government for months!

We complain a lot in the UK. (We are free to complain as much as we like, thank heavens.) But ultimately we have a whole series of checks and balances which maintain a stable system. Power is not concentrated in the hands of one man and one regime. The government has power, but the civil service is a machine of its own; the police, the army, the media, large private companies, religious organisations, charities, celebrities, social groups – all have power in different forms, and the ability to influence the way the country operates.

So either Mubarak is right, and he is all that stands between order and chaos, in which case something needs to change for the safety of the region. Or he’s wrong, in which case change can take place readily, for the safety of the region.

* * * * *

So how has Mubarak sustained his position?

Earlier on I mentioned the broad spectrum of views, and the disparate nature of the people who might express them. If you listen to Mubarak, the only alternative to his rule is the Muslim Brotherhood, whom he has portrayed as a fundamentalist, anti-Western movement. With this fear, he has reined in support both at home and abroad.

Leaving aside the matter of what the Muslim Brotherhood really stands for, he is offering a false dichotomy.  It is not a choice between “him and them”.

Egyptians have a diverse range of views. The majority of Egyptians are Muslim (around 90%) but some are socially/economically/politically conservative and some are liberal. Most are probably somewhere in between: family- and community-minded, aware of Egypt’s long past, anxious to preserve their values, but desirous of change so that views can be expressed, jobs created, the poor fed, public health improved and opportunities created.

The world does not need to be afraid of allowing the Egyptian people to choose their government.

* * * * *

The Vice-President has repeatedly labelled the protestors a ‘youth movement.’ I have to say, from the point of view of the current regime, anyone under the age of 60 probably counts as ‘youth’.

So I’d like to end with the point of view of one of Egypt’s youth: Patrick had the following conversation with the 11-year old son of a friend:

“I love America, life is great there.”

“Do you want to live in America one day?”

“No way!”

“Why not? You think it's great!”

“Yeah, but one day I want to make life here in Egypt as good as life in America.”

Some thoughts from Egypt in the middle of a revolution

Sunday, 30 January 2011
Luxor, Egypt

When we came to Egypt in September, the last thing I thought we would witness was a revolution. As we sit here, in the relative safety of Luxor’s West Bank (the rural side of the river) watching events unfold on television, I barely know what to think, let alone what to write.

It is just after 5pm local time. Officially, the whole country is under curfew. From the balcony of our holiday flat the fields are bathed in low, rich, evening sunlight. Two women are driving a small flock of sheep along a path between banana trees. In the walled garden of the next house, a man in traditional dress is weeding the grass. His two kids are circling the terrace on the bicycles – just now they both tried to ride on the same bike for a while, but after half a circle they both fell off giggling.

Inside, on television, we are watching scenes of Tahrir Square (the name means ‘Liberation’ and it is a symbolic location for Egyptians) where thousands of demonstrators are gathering. Fighter planes have swooped down over the square, and helicopters have been hovering overhead.

So where do I start? My thoughts and feelings are so bound up with everything I have witnessed over the last five months, and the things I have learnt about Egypt and Egyptians. Last week one of our teachers suggested that we write a kind of ‘mid-term report’ on our impressions about Egypt. I was going to gather my thoughts over the next few weeks and write something at the start of February which would be six months after our arrival.  But the latest events have accelerated my thinking.

What follows is not an organised, argued essay. It’s just a bunch of thoughts, hopefully not too much of a rant.

* * * * *

Back in December, Egypt held parliamentary elections. I wrote an article about the elections for a friend’s political website. I did my research, spoke to people, verified what I was told; but in the end, Patrick and I decided that it was not a good idea express negative views about the Mubarak regime. (A telling sign of the way things are.) My article remains saved on my laptop, and reading it back now makes my heart heavy.

The fate of the Egyptian people has for many years been bound up closely in Western regional goals. Egypt has been a good ally to the US. When Mubarak wiped the floor with his opponents in the elections, the reaction from the US was lukewarm. Here’s what I wrote at the time:

The reaction from the international community has been half-hearted. The US State Department issued a statement expressing their “disappointment” and “dismay,” although of course their ultimate tone was conciliatory, emphasising their “longstanding partnership with the government and the people of Egypt” which they look forward to continuing.

This is the fundamental point. Iran’s controversial elections last year raised international outcry. The Ivorian Coast’s presidential elections are currently headline news on the BBC, with world leaders lining up to dispute the incumbent president’s overturning of the legitimate result. But Egypt is more useful to the West. As the US ambassador put it, the Egyptians are “perhaps the only player that can talk with us, the Israelis, and all Palestinian factions.” And the Egyptian government has maintained the blockade of Gaza (with US help), despite widespread criticism at home and abroad.

But Egypt’s foreign policy is closely bound up in its own domestic politics. As the US ambassador put it, “Mubarak hates Hamas, and considers them the same as Egypt's own Muslim Brotherhood, which he sees as his own most dangerous political threat.”

I feel a little less certain about this last comment now. Does Mubarak really see the Muslim Brotherhood as his greatest threat? He has certainly made the rest of the world believe that it is the only alternative to his dictatorial rule. International commentators are warning that they do not want a new government “that doesn’t want democracy” – clearly a reference to the Muslim Brotherhood. William Hague, the British Foreign Secretary, has been more explicit, mentioning the Muslim Brotherhood by name. So the world doesn’t want a party with an Islamist agenda in charge of Egypt. It doesn’t matter if the people of Egypt would like to democratically elect such a group. Equally, it doesn’t matter if they don’t want the MB in charge. Mubarak’s rhetoric has successfully duped the world into such a fear of Islamist government that no-one is being given a chance to express an opinion either way – or to demonstrate that there are other options.

* * * * *

Let me break my rant. The sun is setting, and the TV shows thousands of protesters in Tahrir Square praying in unison. They kneel, touch their heads to the ground, pause, and rise again in waves. It is unbearably moving. The majority of Egyptians are Muslim, and united in belief. But it is more than religion that binds the people together. Reports from Alexandria on Friday said that Christian demonstrators stood around the Muslims forming a barrier against the police to protect them as they prayed. (Similarly, after the Jan 1 bombings, many Muslims stood outside churches during the Coptic Christmas services on Jan 7 to form a human shield in case of further attacks.)

According to Al Jazeera's Alexandria correspondent, women and children have taken to the streets for the first time, defying the curfew to march together against the government.

* * * * *

Back to the rant. Over the last 30 years, as the fear of Islamists has grown in the West, Egypt as a whole has made money. Most Egyptians, however, have not. Illiteracy is ridiculously high. Teachers get paid peanuts. Here’s another extract from my article:

“I am a school teacher,” said our waiter, looking over his shoulder. “In the morning I work in a primary school. I would like to see my family more – I have a wife and three children – but I have to work as a waiter in the afternoon. My salary from the school is less than $50 a month. When I want to buy one shirt for work, it costs me $18. For my children, I have to buy used clothes and shoes.”

For those who can afford it, there are excellent educational opportunities in Egypt: good schools, good universities – and hence the chance to work abroad, which so many aspire to. But with school teachers paid so badly, and education for the majority of such a low quality, social divisions will continue indefinitely.

Remember that figure, $50 a month for a teacher.  Just for the record, here are some numbers we heard from our taxi driver the other night. (Not the first time we have heard these complaints.) A few years ago, sugar cost 1.5LE (about $0.25) a kilo. That price has now quadrupled to 6LE ($1.00). With these prices you can see why $50 a month doesn’t go far. Oh, and the price of meat has risen to around $10 a kilo.

Meanwhile, a minority of Egyptians have got grossly rich under Mubarak’s regime. It is very telling that a large group of prominent businessmen are reported to have left Egypt yesterday on chartered private jets. Call me cynical, but looking at the way Egypt has developed over the last 20 years, Mubarak’s dictatorial measures have been more about lining his pockets and those of his cronies than seeing off any Islamist threat.

And the resulting ‘stability’ in Egypt protects Europe’s oil supply (from the Gulf via the Suez Canal) and maintains the border with Gaza. Back to my comments in December:

But the problem with ignoring the voices of so many is that the status quo may not prevail for long. And as tensions rise in the country, Egyptian commentators warn of sectarian tensions and the US’s Council for Foreign Relations warn that Egypt might not remain stable for long – leaving the US without the ally it needs.

But that’s not what’s important. I have talked a lot about politics, which I make no claims to know about. But over five months we have met a lot of wonderful people in Alexandria, and they are filling my thoughts right now. I hope they are all safe: those we have met through our Arabic classes: Magda, Eman, Jihan, Injy, Dina, Mohamed, Ahmed, Shereen, Hamdy, Amira; my classmates from the Greek centre: Sarah, Hadeer, Ebtesam, Yosra, Shokry, Emad, Moataz, Daniela, Souad, and so many more; Mohamed the manager of our local restaurant, and Dina who we meet there occasionally; Islam who runs a local café we frequent, who we have bonded with over conversations about cats; our friendly doorman and his family; the man we buy vegetables from; the boy who works at the bakery where we buy breakfast; the old man at the corner shop near the language centre who greets Patrick like a long lost grandson every time he goes in; the list goes on.

We need a stable Egyptian government that serves its people well – and more to the point, this is what the Egyptian people deserve.

I wrote this in December, and watching what is unfolding before us, I hope this is what happens. I want my friends to get a good education. I want them to find work after they graduate (not sit at home for months on end, growing ever more despairing). I want them to have the chances to travel that I have had, the chances to learn, think and speak out. I want them to have hope again.

* * * * *

As night falls, we are staying indoors, maintaining our television vigil. We have stocked up on food. We are waiting to see what happens. The British Consulate in Alexandria has advised its citizens to leave the city, but so far there has been no warning for Luxor. As I said, we are in a quiet area. Most people in this village work in tourism, and they know what a huge impact these problems will have on their livelihoods.

Let me end on a lighter note. Here’s a fun game we have invented: Revolution Bingo. How many times do the TV correspondents say any of the following:

•    unprecedented scenes
•    iconic images
•    this is a turning point
•    the next few days/hours/minutes will be crucial

Mere words? I hope not.

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

Running round the Pyramids

We visited Cairo this weekend to take part in the 2nd annual Race for the Cure in aid of the Breast Cancer Foundation of Egypt. 

Saturday started at a time of day that I haven’t seen since my last weekend rowing training back in June.   Our hotel offered to get us a one-way taxi to the pyramids site for 90LE.  We declined and took the metro part of the way (1LE each) and then a minibus the rest of the way (2.5LE each).  Much more fun!

The race was the craziest event I have ever been privileged to take part in.  The pyramids were open as normal, i.e. Giza Plateau was full of tourists, tourist buses, private vehicles, camels, horses, souvenir stands, etc.  Add to this 9,000 runners and intermittent organisation and you’ll have some idea.  

The race began at the panorama point overlooking the three pyramids.  Here I am, waiting for the race to start:

The route followed the road down past each of the pyramids to finish at the biggest, after which everyone walked the remainder of the road down to the Sphinx where there was food and entertainment.

The start of the race (over the tannoy) went something like this:

9:30: “OK, we have EXACTLY five minutes to go…”

9:45: “Five minutes left, everyone.  We’re just fixing some problems.

9:55: “OK, just five more minutes while we clear the tourist buses from the road.”

[absolutely no sign of the stream of buses abating]

10:05: “This is it!  Countdown!  Thirty!  Twenty-nine! Twenty-eight! Twenty-sev…WAIT, NO, NOT YET, NOT YET!!!!”

And a bunch of people set off, followed by the other 8,000 and something.

Here is the start of the race:

We walked, trotted, dodged and occasionally ran our way down the road from the smallest pyramid to the largest.  The road was full of buses driving up the other way.  There were also a few people on camel back joining in the fun.  Neither of us could stop laughing all the way down.  It was well worth the effort of coming to Cairo!

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!