My focus and attention now is on Egypt. Millions are pouring out in the streets for the past week to show their protest against their 30-year old government. It was meant to be a peaceful protest, just like the ones before. But this time, the Egyptians gather a louder voice – a strength coming from within them – after seeing Tunisia's president downfall not far back. 'We want it too', they say. 'We want freedom too'. A basic right long overdue.
I would probably not be as interested on the on-goings save for the fact that I'm married to an Egyptian. When I first stepped into Egypt back on the 1st January of 2003, I was greeted by family and relatives all welcoming me as the new bride with hugs and kisses on my cheeks. I was eager to learn this affectionate way of greeting, often losing count as to how many kisses I've already given and on which cheek to start first. They forgave me although they often wonder (out loud, usually) why I can't speak Arabic, being Muslim.
We stepped in my husband's family home and more celebration continued. A spread of breakfast awaits us and soon after, very loud music accompanied us from an old stereo, nudging us to join in the dance in the hallway. This was unusual for me, having brought up by my Yemeni grandmother in her aristocrat ways – I can vouch that I never shook any bon-bons in front of my family back home. I had to kiss strangers a few hours back, now I should dance with them too. The warmth and passion of the Egyptians certainly bowled me over and I felt right at 'home'. (I saved some moves from my hey days and totally impressed them)
The honeymoon phase was probably the best time to oversee what Egypt really was, being consumed with impressing family and endless celebrations. Soon after, the reality sets in. Visits following that were not a bed of roses anymore. I loathed Egypt. Rather, I loathed BEING in Egypt. I find comfort (and reason) in other foreign wives like me, who felt the same way. I don't look forward to going there – and my relationship with my husband was tested every time we stepped into Egypt for our holiday breaks. It seems inappropriate to share some of my personal experiences quite publicly, but suffice to say, I am not made for Egypt. Water and electricity is quite unstable and the last place you want to be is in the toilet in the middle of something or in an elevator when the latter happens.
People don't care much about cleanliness so hygiene levels were poor – coming from highly sanitized Singapore was not helpful in this aspect. Cute babies are not very cute or kissable like that, trust me. I was also living in Germany then where I had to separate my junks and my organics with my bare hands. If I failed to put a box of cereal in the right garbage bin, a prying neighbor would be telling me to the neighborhood's manager and I will be served with a warning letter. Egypt is on the opposite end of that. Across our building was a bare land, and that's where our junks ended up in – just fling it out the window literally. Children wearing the same clothes they were wearing last week (and probably weeks before) play on the streets with whatever they can find.
Communications continue to be a problem for awhile until I figured out some basic words – like gaan (hungry), Ana aiza (I want), Hammam (toilet, but if u shorted it to Hamam – it becomes a pigeon). The letter ج is pronounced 'Ga' instead of 'Ja' and the letter V is often replaced with a newly created letter that looks like a ق but with 3 dots on it. Later on when I started to learn Classical Arabic, I find much difficulty switching from Classical to Egyptian dialect – Ana aiza in Egyptian would be Ana uridu in Classical Arabic which is just too textbook sounding for most arabs.
What I find most interesting about Egypt is that each time I come back, I noticed something I didn't before. It could be a good thing – like how beautiful are the old buildings, which once housed the bourgeois and elite society. Or something disturbing, like how many young children are actually working in the streets today for a piece of bread. As a tourist, I would be happy to give out some loose change to the beggars and often, they would invite even more of their friends and surround you until you give everybody something. I didn't mind that, I experienced that while travelling in a few 3rd world countries. As long as they are not a part of you, it's quite easy to distant yourself from the reality. However recently on our last trip, while visiting the site of our new apartment, I noticed some young boys who also worked in the construction sites. There was no happiness on their faces. The childhood innocence was not there. They were keen on their work, carrying piles of materials without complain. I wanted to slap myself for not noticing these before. After that scene, I saw more and more young kids working around Egypt. The invasion of the discarded tuk-tuks of India – raised the employment index of child labor. These tuk-tuk riders get less than 3 ginis per trip as they serve small areas. It's actually lucrative, better than being in school.
It's not uncommon to see battered cars older than 20 years old in the streets. Not wise to own a sleek Mercedes CLS if you ask me. Pollution is part of the package. Countless times I got sick just travelling in a taxi with windows open (they save petrol by saving aircondition). Once someone joked 'This (polluted air) is from Allah', and I gave him a hard time for that. You cannot blame Allah for this; it's the work of man, very evil man. But how would that person know better since he never left his country in the first place. This (Egypt) was all he knows.
Take a ride in a car towards the airport, and the scene of 'incomplete' housing facilities filled up both sides of the highway. Structures were left unfinished to 'expand upwards' at a later time or when needed. Brick housing held together with mud and cement left as it is and ready for occupation. Alhamdulillah. At least they have homes. It is luxury to own a home for most Egyptians. The rich live a different lifestyle altogether – most in their luxurious apartments with security guards. Mohandesseen is one of such areas and irony is living in Boulak ad'Dakrour, the most populous town in Cairo which is just next to it – like Kings and Paupers. Boulak ad'Dakrour is so intensively over-populated (4.5million) that it cannot even accommodate taxis. The roads, wait, there is no road. To get there, we took a taxi, walk a little bit, took a pick-up truck and then continued with a tuk tuk to get to where one Aunt was living. To be inside someone's house, is to take a peek at how they've lived. Unfortunately, no matter how well-corniced your ceiling is, you still breathe in the same bad air.
Unstable food prices make meat, an everyday food for most people, unaffordable for most Egyptians. Breakfast for years has been Foul (fava beans) with bread. I don't find it particularly delectable but it is protein, and it does fill the tummy for a long time afterwards, a way to keep hunger at bay. On good days, people buy Tammiyya (or falafel), a tasty chickpeas and parsley fritter to eat with the foul, but nowadays, I find it mostly filled with old breadcrumbs.
I haven't told you about Egyptians. If you can understand them, it would be watching a stand-up comedy on daily basis. The people are loud, sarcastic but funny. I think they sometimes direct their frustrations by exaggerating very insignificant problems in their daily lives. A small family tiff can last for years and then with one meeting it's all as if nothing had happened. Men screaming at the tops of their voices in the streets will be hugging and shaking hands just a few minutes later. Women shouting in the streets are not an uncommon sight either. And they are VERY loud. Egyptians are mostly respectful to one another, often greeting the elder with their salutations and if it's a well-dressed stranger, they would assume you are a doctor or an engineer and calls you such. If you are a tourist, I don't blame you for not seeing this side of Egyptians – after all tourism is the only trade that the people can work in – if you've seen where they live and what they eat, you'll not complain about the rip-off you've just had for riding a camel – do consider it charity if it hurts you that much.
I pray changes will come to Egypt for many reasons. I hope that my children will grow up being proud of their heritage and rich history. I want Egyptians to have and live like people in other parts of the world have experienced. There are so many talented and educated Egyptians who have to stay abroad just to keep the bread on the table. They want to come back to the land of the Pyramids – they speak endlessly about their love to their country, more than anyone (from other countries) that I know of. Patriotism is deep rooted in the hearts of many Egyptians; I think it’s the television (ok, and history books too!). They keep playing movies and songs of that era (Nassr & Sadat) repeatedly that any 2 year old would be familiar with Umm Khalthoum. Part of it is because they were proud to be liberated at that time (hence they made movies & etc) but mostly because the television channels don't care a hoot about programming. A lot of channels repeat the programs like a clock, but I guess their laziness turns out to be "conditioning" for the new generation of Egyptians who are standing in Tahrir Square (and elsewhere) now asking for liberation and freedom. Nyeh to you Mub@rak!
It's much more complicated for Egypt than for Tunisia to have their leader ousted. Mainly because of the importance of Egypt to the West for ensuring peace to certain parties (guess who!) in the region. But I do pray for them well.
May Allah grant them success.
Ameen.
