Fearless Travel

I was alone in my apartment with naught to do but stare at the walls all night (since the TV was out and I’d finished my work) so I decided to take a stroll. Streets at night in Cairo, especially in the summer, are alive with children playing in the relative cool and families spending time together. I remembered a musical event going on down the street, near the mausoleum of Sa’ad Zaghloul - Sa’ad Zaghloul was the first true reformer in Egypt who is credited with establishing such things as elections and the shoura or “advisory” council who is elected by the people; He served as Prime Minister to the King in the 1920’s and formed the Wafd party - and behind the Turkish embassy. The site was an old service garage that had been converted into a concert club; very much like a jazz club in New York City. THe music, however, was not jazz but a mixture of East African and Muslim music called “Zar.” Zar is sung by women with men accompanying on instruments or occasionally offering an opening benediction. It is a form of healing and catharsis in the rural Muslim world where women are largely marginalized or ignored. It is both social and spiritual. I hope you enjoy this snippet I taped in 2006:

Though “Zar” as sung by the ensemble which calls itself Mazaher (those who make “Zar” music) is a major part of this concert venue, they also offer other interesting music which, much like Zar itself, is slowly dying out. Visit them at:

www.egyptmusic.org

Finally on the 10th of June we had “Pyramid day” (yeom al’Ahram in Arabic). The American university in Cairo knows how important culture and history are to the learning of Arabic and so they set up this day-long excursion.  We students gathered and loaded ourselves onto the two, nice, big, air-conditioned buses for a quick tour of Cairo and then off to Giza.

Cairo, lies on the east bank of the Nile where historically, Egyptians always built their cities. Giza, on the other hand, is on the West bank (and a bit south) on the side of the Nile that the Egyptians reserved for the dead. For those of you expecting a trek through the desert, you will be surprised to find the Pyramids are, in fact, surrounded by the city of Giza. All those movies that tell you the Pyramids are way off in the desert somewhere are LYING.

The pyramids are, in fact, a mere 10 kilometers from the Nile, and from Kufu/Cheop’s (the “Great” pyramid - there is only 1 by the way…great I mean) pyramid, you could walk about five or six minutes down the hill to get a drink or some piece of memorabilia and walk back to the Pyramid.

Some people who went with us were disturbed at the mini commercialization of the Pyramids; I don’t know why since every awesome spectacle from the painted desert to the sistine chapel has someone selling something about the wonder near it, but I digress. For me, history is a very tactile experience and just touching those 2 to 20 ton blocks of granite is enough to send chills down my spine. Looking at the Pyramids, and their attending temples, statues, and such, I am amazed that they were built so damn long ago and that they were built at all! The Pyramids should be on your must-see list and here’s why:
The first one was build roughly 3000 B.C. by Kufu (called Cheops by the Greeks) -

about 1300 years before the 10 Commandments were handed down to Moses;

2700 years before the birth of Alexander the Great;

4942 year before Columbus sailed west;

4776 years before the signing of the declaration of independence;

and during that time, the pyramids have seen the rise and fall/decline of three “pharoahnic” Egyptian empires, the Greek empire, the Roman empire, the Byzantine empire, the Muslim conquests, the Mongol invasions, the Ottoman Empire, the British empire, and now our helpful democracy is being witnessed by these massive constructions.

Compared tot he concrete out-buildings constructed in the 1950’s and later to aid in the archaeologists and guards to preserve these monuments, the Pyramids seem new. The outbuildings have become pitted and ruined by the constantly-blowing sands, the intense heat of the sun, and general decay, yet the pyramids are not visibly damaged in 5000 years.

To top it all off, the ancient Egyptians did it all without mortar to hold the blocks together, most fo which were cut with copper or stone tools…

The official brochures say that The Great Pyramid (the one built by Kufu/Cheops) has somewhere in the neighborhood of 2.3 MILLION blocks ranging in size from 2 tons to 20. If disassembled and laid next to each other, they would extend for 1/3 the distance of the equator. It took 20 - 22 years of labor (not by slaves) by Egyptians during the summer months. I got dehydrated just walking around, looking at them.

You do have to pay a nominal fee (20LE - 100LE, depending in time of day and your status as a student or not, as part of a tour or not, etc.) to get into the preserve, and an additional very nominal fee (around 20LE) to enter the pyramid of Kafre (the middle one), or the Sphinx, or the Boat of Kufu/Cheops building. All of them are worth it, though entering the pyramids is truly a grueling trek (spend doubled over sloping at a 45 degree angle (up or down) either way), and perhaps can be skipped if you are not into the whole go-inside-the-pyramid thing.

I do have to say that the whole experience was at once overwhelming and surprising. I had no idea that seeing these most ancient of buildings would be so spiritual and yet laced with the mundane; tourists, ancient craftsmanship, peddlers, the architecture, the city, and the wonder of it all are like nothing I have ever experienced before. If you do get a chance to come to Egypt, I would urge you, beyond anything else, you MUST visit the Pyramids if you go to Egypt.

HERE is a live webcam of the Pyramids set up by an enterprising young Egyptian since my departure.

On my second night in Cairo,  I tried going to Al-Azhar mosque - perhaps THE most famous Mosque in the Middle East - because was supposed to be a Sufi (Dervish) ceremony. The “Dervishes”, of which the “whirling” type are but one of the branches, are the mystics of Islam. Most Muslims don’t even consider them to be truly Muslim, like most Jews do not consider the crop of neo-Kabalists out of Hollywood to be true Jews.

Sufi mysticism, however, was responsible for the spread of Islam to areas that were not reached by Arab conquests; parts of Africa, Europe and Asia were infiltrated by Sufis and a version of Islam - which adapted some of the norms of the local culture - was born. When Genghis Khan reached the Middle East, he was already aware of Islam and believed it to be a great religion. In fact, after Genghis Khan’s death, the Mongol leadership of the Middle East quickly converted to Islam, much as the Turkish invaders before them had, because of the ministrations of Sufis.

Sufi literally means “a person who wears wool” in Arabic. Wool clothing is considered to be cheap, uncomfortable, and the minimum necessary for decency. Since most Sufis live an ascetics’ life, the physical discomfort of wool was perfect for mortifying the flesh while revering God. Sufis believe they can attain oneness with God through repetitive, somatic movements. Some rock, repeating the ninety-nine names of God, while others dance.

That night, I had hoped they would have been the dancing type - it would not have been nearly as fun seeing fifty-odd men rocking in unison chanting the appellations of God. Alas, it was all for naught; we were turned away at the door by the guys who guard peoples’ shoes because prayer was underway. It seems we had not only gotten the wrong address, but the wrong time as well - the Sufis were performing further down the street, I would later find out.

Anyway, my colleagues and I (who ranged from 18 to 36 [guess who was 36]) stood around outside the Mosque and soon attracted a crowd of Egyptians. First, small children still in school came up and asked us a myriad of questions in Arabic, most of which I could understand and replied to. Then older children - apprentice coppersmiths, hauling boys, and store-front shopkeepers not a day over 15 - came up and practiced their English on us; not bad for kids who only got a 3rd grade education before having to enter the workforce. Then the older men (though no women) came over and began talking to us. It was really fascinating; many of the onlookers tried to guess our nationality - to them Americans were blon haired, blue eyed Germanic stock it seems. I, with my brown hair and bushy brown beard, was mistaken for a Spaniard and possibly a Muslim. A young man who spoke not two words of Arabic and was of African American descent was guessed to be Egyptian since he looked so much like a simple country peasant from Upper Egypt. I had fun with those two, joking that I was a Spaniard, but decided to become Egyptian when I arrived in Cairo - that brought hoots of laughter. Also, I explained my companion was not Egyptian, but also wanted to become one since all Egyptians were handsome and he wanted to be handsome too. We received many slaps on the back and laughs at that. Then we all excused ourselves and wandered the bazaar called Kkan il Khalili, had dinner and went home. All in all, it was a nice night out even without the Sufis.

I had to walk to the American University in Cairo’s main campus on my first day, which is not that arduous - or at least far away. This is at the time of the “old” campus which was located in downtown Cairo on Midan al Tahrir.

Anyway, I had to cross a side-street when a white-and-black cab zoomed past me, blaring its horn as it swerved around me. Then the cabbie yelled at me the whole way up the street - traffic was going the same speed as someone on foot (it was that crowded ) - only stopping when one of the ubiquitous Egyptian police stepped out of his kiosk and advanced toward the cabbie.

The city is a study in contrasts; there are towering minarets and grandiose tunr-of-the-century buildings flanked by a Hardees, Pizza hut, KFC, and McDonald. I saw a fairly new BMW get backed into, gouged along the driver’s side, and then promptly left by the driver of a rusty-red car of unidentifiable make.

As it got toward sunset, and the temperature began to drop, the winds picked up. The wind carried with it fine particulate that gets everywhere; inside electronics, clothes, sinks, etc.

That first night was not uncomfortable, though the day was in the 90’s. The wind was steady and the room of my apartment was spacious enough that the breeze and ceiling fan kept me cool all night. I was awoken by the 4am call to prayer though, it was a surreal experience - this wave of calls starting at the most distant was added to a second later by nearer calls, then nearer yet, and then nearest of all - each a second after each other. It was amazing - though a little disconcerting to someone who had spent several year in the Mid West with nighttime sirens and warnings being a bad thing - but had woken me out of my Jet-lagged sleep a little early for my tastes.  I have written below what they are saying in English (each line is repeated twice) followed by a rough transliteration of what it sounds like in Arabic;

“God is Greatest!” Allahu Akbar!
“God is Greatest!” Allahu Akbar!
“Witness that there is no god but God!” Yushahid an laa lah illa Allah
“Witness that there is no god but God!” Yushahid an laa lah illa Allah
“Witness that Mohammad is God’s messenger!” Yushahid an Muhammad rasuul Allah
“Witness that Mohammad is God’s messenger!” Yushahid an Muhammad rasuul Allah
“Now is the time to pray.” Ha ‘ala A’Salaah
“Now is the time to pray.” Ha ‘ala A’Salaah
“Now is the time to plow/work (the fields)” Ha ‘ala Al’Falaah
“Now is the time to plow/work (the fields)” Ha ‘ala Al’Falaah

The call lasts maybe two or three minutes, and is repeated five times during the day; early morning, sunrise, noon, sunset, and evening.

This was perhaps the most difficult trip I had ever made in my life. Because of the grant money I was given to study in Egypt, I could not take my family with me - worse still, my wife had dreamed of visiting Egypt her entire life! - and so we had to not talk about my departure lest emotions run high. You who have been graduate students may know the dilemma faced when one student gets just enough money to go somewhere cool and the other needs to stay home; we try to live within our means because being a graduate student is akin to being on welfare, only more work and less respect.

Anyway, my Wife, Son, and I wandered around town in the car, looking for someplace to snatch a few moments together over breakfast, but there was nowhere we could get into with a reasonable expectation that I’d be able to make my departure time with the shuttle bus that would take me to Los Angeles International Airport (LAX). The best we could do was to grab a quick breakfast from a certain fast-food “restaurant.”

But you know what? Even though it was eaten from a paper wrapper in our car, it was the best breakfast ever.

My Wife, Son and I then spent a few minutes at the beach (the one I’ve been posting pics of lately), looking at the waves crashing down on shore, and just talking.

It’s funny, I know that they love me every day of their lives, and I know that I love them every day of my life, but its not until we were faced with the prospect of my imminent departure that our emotions became so acute. My Wife drove us to the bus depot and we waited what seemed like FOREVER for the bus to untangle itself from the other gaggle of buses heading to points unknown. When I boarded the shuttle bus to LAX at 10 am it seemed like I was still at home…

Arriving at LAX, I was surprised to see the Air France terminal clogged with passengers in various states of annoyance; the flight to de Gaulle had been delayed for two hours by severe storms Normally, I would not have cared, but this situation jeopardized my connecting flight to Cairo. At first the ticket-takers were telling me that I’d have to contact Delta since I booked through them. Needless to say, I was having none of it, but through the combination of my desperate appearance, pathetic attempts at communicating my needs in French, and the fact that hundreds of other people were in the same boat, I was rebooked on a later flight out of LAX, and would ostensibly still be able to make the connecting flight since my bags would be sent directly to Cairo.I still don’t know how my baggage was able to move faster than me, but I digress.

My flight was late arriving in DeGaulle, and so the Air France crew ushered me – and only me – into a waiting Citroen and whisked me off to the other terminal where my plane to Cairo was waiting to take off. I felt like I had been smuggled through France, it was that quick. “’Urray up, ee’s mus’ be on zee plane to Cayre, tut sweet!” Like I’m james Bond or something, only not as cool.

The approach to Cairo was interesting, to say the least. As I landed, the dusk call to prayer was just sounding, so it totally added to the “Welcome to Cairo” vibe. See the picture below for a smugdy, frosted view of what I saw out the port window:

To break with the general tone of this blog for a moment in order to make an appeal to my readers.

Many of you may have been aware of the recent wild fires in California. In fact one of those fires, the “Tea Fire,” hit near the last city I lived in and harmed some people I knew. Here’s the story. Lance and Carla were recently married. She works as a manager at the comic book store and he works as a security guard at a mall down the street. They were renting a bungalo in a town called Montecito. They had received the evacuation notice and were gathering some small belongings when they noticed the fire was moving very quickly towards them. They ran for the car, but were overtaken in a flash fire and burned horribly. Somehow they managed to drive themselves to the nearest fire station where some paramedics were present (luckily) who then transported them to the nearest hospital. Their burns were so severe they were transferred to UC Irvine’s hospital and put into a medically-induced coma while their burns heal. Lance’s burns are so severe, the doctors fear he may have burns on the insides of his lungs from inhaling super-heated air. They have lost everything and because they work for small companies, they have no health insurance to cover their medical expenses. They are currently being put through the medicaid system to pay for the expenses of their medical treatment and recovery. In the mean time, some other friends started a Yahoo user group to coordinate donations of clothes, furniture, gift cards and other things they will need once they get out - they are trying to avoid taking cash donations in order to prevent Lance and Carla’s disqualification for medicaid since those monies would be considered an asset under the Personal Responsibility and Work Opportunity Reconciliation Act of 1996 (this provision allows the state to confiscate savings, trusts, and other liquid assets to offset the cost of medicaid). Please check out the user group and see if you can help in any way.

http://health.groups.yahoo.com/group/lanceandcarla/

Hopefully, we’ll all figure out a way to help Lance and Carla soon. Thank you for your patience and assistance while reading this.

From Monterey bay and it’s cute otters, I take you to Egypt, a place I lived for a time. I hope you will enjoy the journey as much as I did. First, I will tell you up front I was studying there at the American university in Cairo. At the time, AUC’s campus was located downtown, on a plaza called Midan al Tahrir. It is perhaps one of the busiest places in Cairo, and that’s saying something. Egypt has about 40 million citizens (legally) and 25 million of those live in and around Cairo. The city is huge and it is packed with a crush of humanity that is both intimidating and exhilarating. Egypt’s main income is from tourism, though Egyptian cotton is also a huge revenue booster to the economy. Egypt is well-supported militarily, receiving lots of support from the United States both in the form of hardware and intelligence. Egypt is also technically a Republic with a President and a Council of Advisors (the majlis al Shoura), but in reality it is an olighrachy and sometimes an authoritarian regime. Police are everywhere and belong at least to the Middle Class, if not the lower upper class. They can be brutal and arbitrary to the people, but leave Westerners alone for the most part (unless the Westerners are stupid enough to do something illegal like purchase drugs or steal something).

The people of Egypt oscillate between being resigned and indignant about the political system. Though anti-American sentiment has been growing the the Middle East, particularly anti-American sentiment, for the most part, Egyptian people separate the American culture from the American people; they sometimes joked with me that Egyptians and Americans are brother - neither of them can change their government. This is in reference to the Defeat of John Kerry in 2004. 2008’s election, however, electrified the Egyptian people (I have a few friends living there still) who said there was widespread joy at the election of Barack Obama because he looked more like an Egyptian than any President before and they hoped that meant he would govern more fairly and force foreign policy that took into account the needs and dreams of the Palestinians (there is a large population of Egypt that considers itself Palestinian, having fled there in 1948, 1957, 1967, and 1973).

Egyptians are unfailingly nice to guests and tourists. A shop keeper will offer you tea or coffee (or if he’s rich, a soda or bottled water) and will talk about politics and life while they sell you something. if you try to speak Arabic to them, you are greeted enthusiastically and they will patiently correct your Arabic. Egyptian people are generally well-educated (except for the lower class whoa re only compelled to go to school until third grade, after which they usually find a job). and speak a multitude of languages; standing in line at McDonald’s I heard Arabic, English, and Russian spoken by the order taker and instead of getting your food at the counter, someone delivers it to you and cleans up your trash. Egyptians will never, ever tell you “no” if they can help it. Usually, if a shop keeper doesn’t have something he’ll say “Bukhara” which means “Tomorrow” but in reality, means “I don’t have it.” They will give you directions even if they don’t know where you need to go. They will always ask you to sit down first, even if you are the host. THey offer drinks when you come to their door, even if you are only delivering a letter or asking them to turn down the radio. They are angry at the high unemployment rate but don’t take it out of foreigners (who bring in what little money there is to earn).

I hope that you will enjoy the journey I took in 2006 as much as I did. Until then, Salaam Aleykum (Peace be upon you).

Okay, this is the last post about otters - in case you had not guessed, they are my favorite animals in the world. So, here we have Rosa the otter of the Monterey Bay Aquarium. Her and her colleagues spend most of the day in this tank or in a tank behind the scenes. Rosa and her girls are important for one good reason; they foster other Sea Otters and teach them how to be Sea Otters. That whole “instinct” thing they tell you of in biology class? All wrong; as it turns out, picking the right food, choosing rocks, and even winding one’s self in a tendril of sea weed for a good nap are all learned skills. When an orphan Sea Otter is found, they are usually paired with Rosa or a friend of hers and they take on the mothering aspect; providing milk if necessary, teaching the other otter how to do all the things that allow Sea Otters to survive in the wild. After the other otter gets large enough, they are allowed to find their way back to the sea through a series of tanks and waterfalls that lead directly to Monterey Bay; in fact, one adoptive mother otter was so taken with her charge, that she left with the baby. Now there are five female Sea Otters at the Moneterey Bay aquarium (though the sixth one also hangs around near the aquarium and can be seen occasionally). I hope you enjoy Rosa’s antics in the video below.

Right next door to the Asian Small Clawed Otters is an exhibit featuring African Spotted Necked Otters. These guys come from the Congo river and are similar to otters everywhere; they love to romp and play and make baby otters. They are very energetic and anyone who goes to see them had better bring a fast-acting digital camera; these guys came out as blurs to my camera (that’s why I video taped them instead). Additionally, these spotted neck otters are endangered; civil wars in the Congo and elsewhere as well as diamond mining with little regard to their environments impact. These otters, however, are happy and romp like there’s no tomorrow. Enjoy!

^^African Spotted Neck Otters^^

Also while at the Monterey Bay Aquarium, we were able to see these Asian Small Clawed Otters in an enclosure. I have video below, but a little about otters first. Otters are members of the weasel family. Most of the otters in the world are solitary creatures or live in small family pods. They have sharp teeth with which they capture prey and are uniformly amazingly intelligent. They are as intelligent, in fact, as most dogs and can figure out things like tactics to tackle larger prey or predators, how to disguise their home, and how to mislead enemies away from pups. Otters also spend most of their time at the most important task of all: playing. Eat, sleep, mate, play and occasionally fight….what a life!

Asian small clawed otters are from south east asia; Cambodia, Vietnam, and Thailand. They are jungle-dwelling creatures who congregate in and around rivers. They (and all otters) do a “latrine dance” where they stamp their back legs before doing #2.

Enjoy!