Evading the Regime

Morning atop the roof of the school. The AUC is situated upon Tahrir Square, although within its campus, you wouldn't realize it. However, the roof is accessible as the school was once in fact the palace of the Minister of Education in the 1860's. and therefore classrooms and offices are located in unusual places, including rooms which can only be reached across the roof. I took this shot in the morning, when it is relatively calm.

The Cairene's circadian rhythm shifts dramatically in the summer months--waking up in the late afternoon, working, staying up late into the wee hours and through early morning. Then dozing off again. It's a matter of the heat. Cairo can't quite rise until the evening, as is evidenced by the fact shops are always open, children frolick in the streets well past midnight and traffic increases in some places. School inhibits such an arrangement from materializing.

Being Zamalek is rather strange however in its dense population of Westerners. I see lots more iPods there. I pass the Japanese ambassador every morning walking his dogs. I see the Serbian ambassador's wife and young children in the afternoons at the Metro Market (the residence is just behind the dormitories). Each time I find myself frequenting this particular establishment, I often find myself thinking after a few minutes, "where am I on a map again?" I have to stop and think that I am in Cairo. Expat communities are really rather interesting. Clusters of foreigners in exotic places binding yet struggling for autonomy. And the infinite battle against the dreaded tourist. I can safely declare 90% of those who visit Egypt on holiday ride around in air conditioned buses, stay in huge chain hotels like the Marriott and Hilton, entities onto themselves where pools, room service, restaurants, shops and banks ensure these tourists never have to step foot in the real Cairo. Unless of course accompanied by an AC bus. They are simply terrified, rightfully so in some regards. I am often approached by Westerners for directions, linguistic help or cultural problems on the streets, hopefully demonstrative of my assimilation into this life. And I do feel this is my home now.

But Egyptians may be the only people to declare this home. The Egyptians I know best are my teachers, four women, varying in age and conservatism. Merely teaching Arabic at the American University in Cairo is a radical act however defying social standards, and I wonder what it is like for them in that role. It is undoubtedly representative of major successes in their lives in obtaining these positions. In particular is our grammer teacher, Shereen, who was born and raised in Upper Egypt (southern Egypt beyond the delta) which might as well be 12th century Arabia. And she somehow managed to leave home, learn English, become educated, visit the US, teach at the AUC, even teach Arabic at Middlebury. Sometimes I wonder if she feels trapped here. If she's envious of our ability to travel and learn so freely. Because these four teachers are so bright, and they have managed to overcome so much in simply being English teachers at an American University, and yet they are subjected to a life of male accompaniment, negligence, abuse. But not the veil. I respect the veil.

That was about the most random post ever.