CoCitYzen

Dear All,

Please check out my exploration of Malawi in words in images:

http://malawiexplorer.wordpress.com/

Love,
Anastasia

Hey folks,

Time to face the truth, Cocityzen project is gradually fading away and taking a break, but here is the good news: a new thing thing is coming as a chapter II - Dialogue in Diversity.

http://project-did.livejournal.com/

Enjoy!

Anastasia

It is midnight in Denmark. I switch between the TV channels and stop on a debate show with four Muslim women fiercely discussing social and cross-cultural issues they have encountered while being here. The ladies speak with no single hint of an accent; they were most likely born here, or were brought to the country at an early age. Under any circumstances, Denmark is their home.

It catches my immediate attention that all of the show guests are Muslim. I cannot help thinking that it must be nothing else than another unfortunate branding, a notorious stamp depicting the immigrant population as solely Muslim. One more show confirming a way too convenient cliche of a local immigrant being a Muslim. What is going on? The whole discourse is like a box ring with only two battlers for their own truth: Danes ad Muslims, as if there are no others left.

We have seen this before during the well-known Danish cartoon scandal: eternal fight for truth between the ardent affiliates of the freedom of speech and supporters of elementary ethics. Again-again, there were only two groups granted the right to expression: surely, Danes and Muslims. Hardly any other members of the society received a right to a public word to express their opinion, as if they weren't entitled to their truth. After all, they too, are on board of the same ship.

They could have invited women with all kinds of immigrant backgrounds but the show evidently had to fit the square frames of a rotten national political discourse gone awry. Without hardly noticing it themselves, those well-educated and articulate women in the program were a direct reflection of an immigrant society as they are seen by the majority of Danes: a monolite Muslim immigrant enclave (the key word being "Muslim"), which once again ended in verifying a solid prejudice of an immigrant population in Denmark being Muslim.

What happened to diversity, pluralism and multiculturalism? Isn't it what we are supposed to stand for in a society enslaved by prejudice?

I am utterly confused.

The result of such representation is clearly disturbing: the Muslim immigrant population here is being made a target for a simple reason. When the time comes, it will be so easy to dump the sins of the nation to a group that is vulnerable enough in advance due to the dominating global Orientalistic discourse - Muslim immigrants.

Anastasia

Ok now I have been asked the question over 3 times: WHAT ARE WE?

Ehm...There is no particular answer but there is a story!

Once upon a time a group of young & vivid Danish individuals got together and decided to set their endeavors to promoting mutual understanding and eliminating fear and prejudice between East and West (uh, I would much rather do without these Orientalistic definitions but it has to be said!).

The idea was born after the notorious Danish cartoon scandal, when a newspaper with a national coverage, Jyllands Posten, comissioned and printed the comic cartoons assaulting people, particularly Muslims, in- and outside Denmark. The incongruous case was so absurd that many Danes felt that had to reach out to explain their own truth.

With clear detemination and a noble objective of proving Samuel Huntington wrong our Danish facilitators made a sketch of the project idea and sought funding. There was lots of jumping for joy when they surprisingly received a letter mentioning that they were granted a considerable amount to carry out the project. The money was initially granted by the Danish Minstry of Foreign Affairs' "Arabian Initiative" program that has a practice of outsoursing finances to NGOs and other non-governmental institutions for promotion of democratic trends in the Middle Eastern region. It is also worth mentioning that the funding came through the medium of the Danish Youth Council.

From then on, it's been nothing but fun. A one-week trip to Cairo for a very close mutual encounter with Egyptian youth, accompanied by a preparation phase and an implementation period after the project, were advertised for. 10 people from Denmark and 10 Egyptians were chosen for the participation in the program by the facilitators from the youth organization called CISV, and then...you know the rest.

The project is still active as the implementation phase is currently in its development.

Stay tuned for updates!

Hugs,

Anastasia

Anastasia:

I discovered that my identity in Cairo was dynamically interchanging.

On questions about my origin, I would sometimes answer I was from Russia, but just as many times I would say I was from Denmark. It basically depended on who I was talking to. I would hardly reveal my Russian identity to young men on the streets, whereas I would rarely disclose my Danishness on the local markets like Khan El Khalili, as I suppose, taken that Denmark is a fairly wealthy country, this could lead to a pure financial rip-off!:)

But deep inside I felt myself as Russian as I could be, and I was most proud of it. This Russianness was stripped from the vague feeling of aloofness and alienation that it is often accompanied with when I am in Denmark. It felt easier being a Russian there, as we have so much in common, culturally and mentally...

Anastasia:


Another logical pattern of mine that blew into pieces: I have firmly believed that in societies with such a wide social class gap as Egypt, showing off your (high)status is a natural thing. Like, in Moscow, certain ppl would look down on you if you don't have a $200 jeans on. There are people in Egypt who live on half-a-dollar a day, there are also those who would pay 15 bucks to get into a nightclub. The gap is enormous. In Russia, if you don't show your status, you hardly get anywhere (literally), it's insane. That's why one probably would put all of their glamorous wardrobe on to get recognized, which results in totally absurd looks sometimes.

In Egypt, it is different (although some Egyptians might disgree!) I have not seen this consumer cult, to the extent that I saw in Russia of in the U.S. In fact, I had a hard time defining one's status just by looking at them.

Interestingly enough, my American friend Alissa made a similar observation...

Anastasia:

Since I came home from Cairo I have been functioning on a massive flow of insatiable energy, with an EVERYTHING-IS-POSSIBLE set of mind. I could move mountains. I definitely owe this one to Cairo: every minute of every day while I was there I felt that I was living to my full. I finally felt that I was doing and breathing my sociologist-by-nature passion of getting to know my surroundings. It felt like there was this mega energy flow covering the city inversely proportionate to the amount of sleep that I got, as it was IMPOSSIBLE to sleep in Cairo: you got constantly woken up by the honking beat of the cars all night, or a nicer way to wake up at 5 am - by azaan (call for players) when the melodious "Allaaaaaah!" broke into the air. Paradoxically, the less sleep - the more energy!

I came up to a wall-sized window of the hotel room overlooking the heavily trafficked road in Giza, the disctict of the Pyramids. Donkey carts were mixed into the traffic, smaller cars were twisting their way through in the opposite direction, apparetnly too busy to get into the right lane, people on bikes going across the lanes and back again, also in the opposite direction. A postmodernistic mess. They got honking codes, and you don't hit the traffic without knowing those. One for "I love you", one for "You b*tch", one for "Thanks" and "Let me pass", so they are constantly morsing them out, day or night. That was Cairo, so diverse and so illogical, and yet showing an incredibly harmonious coexistence of things and people.



I haven't had enough, not even nearly. In fact, I feel embarraced to have seen it all so superficially. I am going back, to find out more. I would stay there for several months. But I need a project. I definitely want to do something in Cairo, whatever the environment has to offer and whichever competence they may take from me.

Still feels so strange being home...

Anastasia:

I had 4 hours in Milano through my transit to Copenhagen.......after 2 days with no sleep I had no idea what I was functioning on but I was still able to see the beauty of the sights.

The city was gorgeous. I got quite obsessed with taking shots of their yards: you never knew what waited for you around the corner. And of course, the Duomo...see for yourself. I made my way through the city in a non-existent Italian ok. Fortunately I understood all of the directons and more: that's what a year of university Latin does to you:).

I hardly had any cash on me and I didn't quite feel like cashing anything, as immediately I would have to spend those Euros in Milano within 3 hours, and that was a dangerous thought. So I ended up running around with a single 5 Euro bill in my pocket and the camera. Luckily I got 2 free espressos on my way through the city that kept me alive.

My fatigue took over me on my way back to the airport when I fell asleep on a train and missed my stop but I managed to catch up with the plane eventually...

Anastasia:

The last days were awesome as we were free to do whatever we wanted. I finally got all of the time to myself and a luxury of setting up my own agenda. So I loaded myself with the camera and went out to walk randomly on the streets. But before that...

I left the 4* hotel together with the Danish Cocityzen participant Lotte. We piled our luggage on top of a black'n'white cab and took the taxi downtown without any particular destination. It was probably the first time I wasn't eager to communicate with the cab driver as I was sitting in tears: I hate goodbyes. Eventually the driver brought us right downtown (you could put a finger right in the middle of Cairo map and hit the place we were staying at!) at Odeon hotel where we ended up staying overnight. The hotel was straaange...Oldskool surroundings and service advertisements with 50 years of no update.



A sign in the bathroom was quite eloquent:



and then they had a very symbolic hole on top of the elevator that opened the view to the sky. Every time the elevator went up it felt like going to heaven. Or we were SUPPOSED to feel like that!:) Luckily it rains very rarely in Cairo, so no drops were hitting the 50 year old elevator carpet.



Nevertheless, we definitely appreciated the hospitality when we found a bottle of Stella beer in the room refrigerator!

The next day Lotte and I moved to Alissa's, my American friend who is doing an Arabic course in the American University of Cairo. I have known her virtually through Humanity in Action's human rights network, and have even written a paper on clandestine prisons together with her while I was in D.C. and Alissa was in Brussels. Yet we had never met in person until I was there with a whole lot of luggage and a friend to stay with her. Alissa lived in a roomy apartment with an absolutely gorgeous view in the district of Aguza, where we kindly were allowed to crash for a couple of nights.



Now, Alissa was incredible. She took really good care of us and introduced us to some unique places and people and even taught me some VERY basic Arabic to get home by cab:)Something like "el Aguza taht kubri sitta oktober". I have no idea what I was saying but it surely worked!

Alissa took us to a mega delicious koshari palace downtown, Abo Tarek, a sort of a 3 floor palace with fountains, for a traditional meal:



with lemon smileys floating around:



And here is koshari, a popular Egyptian national dish made of lentils, rice and macaroni with sauce. Koshalicious!



The last night was the most intense one for me, a real teaser to stay: it was one of those random nights that I luv with an awesome company of people. Alissa's got some amazing friends who joined us 30 minutes before I had to hit the road! And then it was so nice to see some of our Egyptians too. The night kept on getting more and more exciting when we suddenly had to move to the airport.

Anastasia:

A CULTURAL ENCOUNTER

At times I got nearly suffocated by being within 4 walls and got an immegiate urge to go out to get some fresh air. It is amazing how much you can do in jus 5 minutes: I got nearly hit by a car about 3 times, talked some body-language to the local school kids (we definitely exchanged names and gave each other a high-five), watched a bank guard praying on the street near the bank entrance and was told something very long in Arabic by a smiling old lady on the street.

One of the things that still remains a mystery to me is a sense of time in Egypt. You could easily wait 30 minutes for a drink or food at local cafes or restaurants. Shisha, however, always arrived with a steady punctuality!:) Shisha at Sequoia, a lounge restaurant in Zamalek, was amaaaazzzzing....It really kicked ass.




GENDER ROLES

As far as gender behavourial patterns are concerned, I found a whole lot in common with my own culture, and even to a surprising extent! Egyptian men surely know how to treat a woman, and women definitely know how to be feminine to men. I must admit I liked it: this decent courtesy was absolutely natural to me. Not that I have been spoilt by gifts and flowers, I would probably be considered a feminist in Russia by some, but hey, I did grow up in a culture where men are corteous to ladies. After all, what does it take to open a door for a girl or reach out to help her get down the steps?:)

And then there is this biological thing: I didn't need to feel safe as I was perfectly able to take care of myself but I liked feeling 'safe', being taken care of. I am ceritainly talking about the men I knew.

The story is different with strangers. One should be very careful with them as there may occur some harrassment and unwanted attention. I have also noticed that once in a while they would shout "shakira" after a pretty girl on the streets, which is probably a consequence of the recent Shakira concert in Cairo. I tried to cover myself up on the streets as much as I could. It was really about how much skin you showed.

Egyptian ladies I met deserve a separate comment. Notwithstanding the traditional stereotype of a quiet and feminine woman for whom it is inapropriate to go against the rules, I have met some most inspiring veiled ass-kicking women in terms of career and social life. They clearly made me go "Wowww!". I am still digesting the impression of meeting these girls...



A stereotype for a man would probably be a true public sphere actor, a strong family supporter and a humble believer. I have noticed some (artificial) blue marks right on the foreheads of some of them - a sort of a tatoo, a true sign of worship of diety, rightiousness, spirituality if you will.

This deep traditional gender gap fascinated me on the one hand, and concerned me on the other. I was generally curious as to what role a sexual discourse played in the Egyptian society. What does it mean for an Egyptian teenager to grow up in a society with such a distinct gender role division? With so many taboos not being subject for discussion? Definitely a topic to research that would earn Freudian approval...


FRIDAY PRAYER

Friday is a traditional day for a weekly prayer, something remotely similar to Sundays for Xtians. Life would stop its hasty tempo for a moment for massive gatherings for a spiritual activity.

Ladies pray saparately from men, and they all pray towards the holy city of Mecca.

Anastasia:

I am spending my thrid evening with the laptop on my sofa writing down all the mess in my head. I have barely processed my visions and thoughts but putting them down is my frantic attempt to make some kind of a steady ground for further contemplations.


CAIRO PEOPLE

Cairo people might have been the reason for my deepest impression of Cairo.

I got quite obsessed by taking random street shots of people. Those who wanted it, of course. Cairo's essence is in their eyes, smiles, looks, postures - all so peculiar and special. They are the life of the city. I do not recall meeting so much openness and hospitality, genuine curiosity and sincerity.

I was able to make a whole conversation with cab drivers with my 5-word vocabulary in Arabic. Cab drivers were amazing: they gave me cookies and sang songs, some switched to a radio with English music just to make us feel comfortable.



Wherever we went, we got a smile and a carefully pronounced "Welcum to Ezhipt" nearly all the time. And NONE of the people I met ever said a negative word about Denmark or the notorious cartoon scandal, which surprised me in a way. I am not sure whether it was their natural courtesy and hospitality or they simply did not know about the matter.

It was very much possible that they didn't know (thank god!): many Egyptians have stopped caring about the political state of affairs long ago, with Mubarak being in power for the 5th term. Barely one third of the population votes as people are sceptical for the democratic changes. I asked the May Fair hotel staff what they thought about the recent referendum, those 34 constitutional ammendments in the middle of March that generally were targeted at the further tightening of the system. They had no idea what I was talking about, which made me feel embarrassed.

I talked to all kinds of folks: from a director of sales for the Hilton's Middle Eastern region, to homeless children near Giza. On the roof top of the seminar hotel I met two archeologists having very opposing views on Mubarak's politics. I basically shut up and heard them arguing occasionally turning my head left and right in the direction of the speech. It was nice to get some controversy in heat for better understanding of opinions. I am glad we didn't get to the political hot potato - Israel - or the heat would turn into fire!













What really struck me there was an enormous sense of solidarity for their cocitizens: this incredible sense of belonging, mutual helpfullness, even for us, foreigners, demostratively walking with cameras. We had a man come up to us and tell us in Arabic to be careful as some litter might fall from the roof. He knew we probably wouldn't understand, but he said it anyway, in a caring manner.

They have those parking key boards with a guy collecting your car keys and hanging them in the middle of the street before you walk into a restaurant: in case of unfortunate parking you can actually trust those guys to move your car, and collect the keys on your way out - something completely UNTHINKABLE for where I come from. In my world, they would at least THINK of taking a car for a joyride.

On a more general level, Egypt has totally broken some of my logical patterns. I used to think that the crime rate level in a society was directly proportionate to the level of poverty. Cairo has proved me wrong...This city hosts the most decent, helpful, curious and spiritual people. High morals are the trump here: I might reiterate the prejudice but hey, that would be my truth, grounded by experience.


OUR CAIRO PEOPLE

I don't know how to say this right..................

Being by nature a person who is not that easily attached to people in general, I found all my walls broken by our Egyptians, bringing me to an emotionally vulnerable state that made my eyes wet several times after the end of the program. I don't know how someone can become so dear in such a short time. I guess it has a lot to do with how they approached and treated us: so sincerely, so personally...They would do anything for us to feel most comfortable and taken good care of. This personal touch has hardly been a thing for me here in Denmark (there are a few exceptions, of course!). It really stays deep. I guess I have experienced the whole range of my emotions, zigzaging within the period of two weeks.

I miss you guys SO MUCH!!! All of you, without any exception. I really hope I will see you soon.



Mahmoud, an Egyptian Cocityzen, & me at Khan El Khalili>




CAIRO CHILDREN

I had a thing for taking shots of local children. Their facial expressions were so immediate and sincere. Their eyes reflected authentic Cairo.









These guys are 15-year old Mahmoud, Omar and Aslam. I ended up hanging out with them in Aguza neighbourhood for 2 hours, them speaking Arabic, me speaking English. They bought me a falafel and would not let me pay. They also took me by the hand when I was crossing the insane Cairo traffic streets. Very cute.

Anastasia:

I apologize for not having time to blog during my last days in Cairo. I am now back in my Copenhagen apartment, culturally confused, sitting on my Egyptian cushion newly acquired on the market of Khan El Khalili, smoking my home apple shisha and listening to "Wahda Wahda".

The shock is tremendous: who could have thought I would get a cultural reality check upon getting HOME? I do want to go back so badly! In those last days Egypt has teased me the most with its nature and people, and when things had become MOST interesting and mysterious, I was sent right back up north.


CAIRO DAYS: THE BEAUTY OF THE CITY OF 1000 MINARETS

The first couple of days were a pure get-to-know-each-other part within the magnificent frames of Cairo sights. Our Egyptians took us to the places of beauty, including the Citadel, Muhammad Ali mosque, Al Ahzar park with a view on Cairo to die for, and to the Coptic quarter. And not to forget a fabulous fallucca ride on the Nile river with fetir (Egyptian pancakes) on board!





This skyline stays firmly in my head. I addition to that try imagining calls for prayers echoing into each other, meeting high in the air in a harmonic chior of sounds giving you goosespots all over.



Muhammad Ali Mosque:













The inside of a Coptic Orthodox Church, which was very different from the Russian orthodox.





THE SEMINAR SITE

We moved out of the hot-and-cold-shower-hostel and into a 4-* hotel magnificently overlooking the Pyramids themselves for the days of the seminar. From then on it has been a snowball of compulsory activities with random sleep and a plethora of impressions. The amount of sleeping hours was steadily decreasing each day, and on the day of my departure I ended up with no sleep for 2 days, but I was definitely functioning on an inflammable fuel: emotions.

The hotel reminded me of an apple gone wrong: you hardly realize it has gone bad before you take a bite. Friendly staff, nice lobby, the alleged pool (with no water though, so I wondered if that kind of PR really helped to attract more customers), luggage brought straight to the room, the pyramid view…all nice…until you discover there is no Internet, no toilet paper, problems with toilet flushing, the same cold'n'hot shower (I am starting to believe it is an Egyptian thing:), and room-cleaning at 8 am when the guy just slams the door open and finds you snoring. The strangest thing was that the guy came in on each and every morning with incredible persistence, no reasoning being effective but a DND sign on the door:).

The case reached its culmination when one of our girls got stuck in the bathroom of her room because the handle lock had gone wrong. She knocked herself to salvation, when one of us heard the strange noises coming from the bathroom, and called the reception. 15 minutes later a straight line delegation of a hotel manager with a key and 2 porters in uniforms came up to unlock the poor girl. A sure way to develop claustrophobia:).

A pleasant little surprise found us in the rooms: a welcoming present in form of small Danish/Egyptian treats organized by our facilitators.

So these are the beds on which Sarah, Amira and me used to chat before going to sleep during the seminar nights.

Click on the JPG to enlarge:





And check out the view:



The seminar started in a roomy location on the top floor, with a roof top overlooking the pyramids. This roof top ironically became a window with a view on the "real world", from which we observed the life in action that we came there to see.

For the first two days we haven't left the hotel due to the tightness of the program and only once the three of us attempted a single evening escape for beer, which was practically impossible to get in the area, so we nearly hit the "black market" in our hunt for Stellas bargaining down the price on 3 bottles in a neon light cellar down a very dark street. It felt like buying drugs in a pulp fiction like movie:)

This deserves further comments. Egyptian culture is alcohol-free. In my mind, it is a direct cause of traditons and cultural and religious spirituality. People who pray as often as Egyptians do are spiritually in a finest balance with themselves, and do not need any intensifiers in forms of alcohol to relax. For a non-religious person meditation would have the same effect.

From the first days of my stay I was surprised by the amount of veiled women in Egypt and extremely ashamed of my ignorance for not knowing this in advance. I don't even think I had enough clothes with me to cover myself up as much if I wanted to. I tried to be extremely careful as to what I wore so that I would not offend anybody, and on several occasions I found myself feeling guilty for dressing pretty. I bought a whole lot of pashmina scarfs on a market, which were quite pretty and rather cheap. Yet, the veiled women looked lovely and had an amazing sense of style.

In terms of dressing I remember making an immediate observation to myself: while we, Europeans, are very much used to express our identity through the way we dress, Egyptian girls rather express their spirituality, and only then identity (personal taste, colour preference etc.)



THE PYRAMIDS

The first time we left the seminar site as a group was in two days from the start of the seminar heading for the Pyramids, followed by a delicious lunch in the sun at Felfella and a visit to the Dasnish Dialogue Institute, finishing it off with a nice shopping at Khan El Khalili market where I previously got lost. The entire day was perfectly organized and we were taken very good care of.

Being a typical tourist is almost an obligatory part in every city, even for an Egyptian:). I will let the shots speak for themselves.

























The Tourism Police was apparently dissatisfied with me taking shots of them:



I couldn't help taking a shot of this businessman in a tie on a horse: the man was galloping with all of his 1 horse power. Time is money. Considering his high technological assets I was wondering if the guy on the black horse was his "cell phone":)






KHAN EL KHALILI

THE market. This is the place where I initially got lost. It has a certain charm in it which sucks you in. Lured by jewellery, I got dragged into a store and lost my group. I am not usually someone who would panick in market places but they all kept on dragging me in different directions willing to show their merchandise.

"La. La. I am looking for a friend!", I claimed. "I am a fRiend, I am a fRiend!", I heard in response from all sides.

I had to sms for help and caught up with the group eventually. Since then, I was there 3 times.

Bargaining became a sport to me, a matter of principal. When all the reasoning failed, I consciously used a sad child "ready to cry" look to bargain the price down to the least possible level. Ha! I guess I got quite good at it!;)





This guy was insisting on painting my eyes like Kleopatra's:




For those of you who are impatient to get more images, follow the link:

http://www.ballofdirt.com/journeys/17456.html

It seemed like a pretty typical day yesterday in the busy offices of Orange Business Services' Cairo operations center. People walking around, chatting, phones ringing, computer monitors bursting with live information. It was sometime in the early afternoon when silence momentarily prevailed, as everyone's eyes focused on the monitoring screens, suddenly filling up with red alerts. It was a major service outage in Copenhagen.

We knew then we had a very long day ahead of us. With hundreds of affected corporate customers, the flow of emails, phone calls, automatic alerts, and case reports kept everyone busy up to their ears.

By the end of the day we had learned of the cause of outage. There was a huge fire in a telecom facility which left hundreds of fiberoptic cables and communications equipment damaged. It was around 5 pm, and photos our field engineers took of the disaster with their mobile phones while inspecting the site had circulated the entire the company's email inboxes.

As I watched some of my colleagues gather up around the screens, checking out the pictures of the ruins, it became clear to me how large the gap is, and how long it will take us to fix whats broken. I sighed and chugged when I heard mumblings like "They deserve this." as I watched the interesting mixture of delight and contempt in their eyes. I wasn't too surprised to see this view shared by the majority. I was speechless, and it kept me thinking all the way back home.

This shows the responsibility of active members of the community who were lucky enough to have the bi-cultural exposure offerred by Cocityzen. There's so much to be done, and projects like Cocityzen should only be a small start in years of efforts of further dialog and understanding. It was indeed but the beginning.


On a more personal note, for those of you who may or may not remember me, an apology is in order. To my very own surprise, I found myself abandoning the program a mere two days after its start, despite having had looked forward to it for almost two months. While my reasons are too personal to disclose, I would like to share that the past few weeks have been unusual times for me, seeing me resign from my job and struggle with family problems. I regret not being there with all of you through the events, but I will never forget the times I did spend with you. I sincerely wish all of you all the luck. Ma'ssalama!

Abdelrahman

Anastasia:

This expression borrowed from a virtual friend indeed describes my encounter.

First off, I apologize for disappearing from the radars: I had no chance to go online in the week of the seminar, so now I can peacefully indulge myself with a day of the Internet in a coffee shop overlooking the urban Nile, perfectly accompanied by 5 lattes and an apple shisha.

I am a very emotionally driven person, and after a week of no-sharing emotions are definitely boiling over. It is as if I am ready to cry without feeling sad, I just need to get them out. This city is so mysterious: it is like being on the Moon.

I guess by now I have reached my emotional margin, unable to process any feelings any longer. You could have told me the most shocking thing right now with no appropriate reaction from my side. I got a smile glued to my face whatever I see or do.



So I am back on Zamalek, a geographical twin of Manhattan, where we stayed during the first couple of days in May Fair Hotel. The area is quite well-off and hosts a lot of foreigners. An interesting thing is that I found it hard to define social class merely by looks here: I seriously thought (to my own shame) when I first took a walk in Zamalek that it was one of the poor quarters.

So I am facing the Nile river (no crocodiles! For those of you who might ask the inevitable question:)), calm and reflective.



……………………(Several hours later)………………………………

Guess what? I got involved into chatting with a sales director for Hilton in the Middle Eastern region for some hours about corporate culture, ethics, MBA education, bla bla bla, and haven’t written anything at all for you guys. Talking to people drinking latte next to you can result in a very interesting discussion but also in a tremendous loss of time!

I will make up for it, I promise!

Anastasia:

Salam Aleikum Cairo, the urban explosion of people, blooming trees, cars, parked into each other, fumes and magnificent mosques blinding with the golden tops even by night. And my arms just about 5 cm longer from the luggage I had to bring here.

2 a.m. The airport is crowded. After some of us got a visa at the airport bank (hm!) we successfully passed the passport control (thank God!), and were practically grabbed on the spot by a middle-aged man with no English with a handmade 'Cocityzen' sign. And only when 5 of us (with the driver on top) were pushed into the black'n'white taxi, our luggage in between, I have actually realized that we were supposed to be picked up by someone else. 2 a.m. and 7 hours of flight surely don't make the thinking process quicker. Packed like herrings in a can in the taxi with our baggage on top of the car ready to fall off, we had to turn down at least 6 hands from both window sides asking for tips before we actually hit the road.

6 people in the car, two girls on the front seat, one on top of another, no safety belt, luggage ready to fall off and a non-English speaking driver. Travelling Egyptian style.:)

We hardly got into the real traffic when I got a call from the guy who was supposed to pick us up, having a hard time to find us. A short panick attack after, we dropped the taxi and were driven home in two cars by Abdel and our kind Italian travel companion Paolo, who happened to occupy the seat next to me on the plane. As we drove past Cairo sights, I couldn't help but notice the mosques: they were shinging and lighting the city.

We got to Zamalek, a geographical copy of Manhattan. Apparently a fancy area with a lot of foreigners and embassies, is a quite safe disctict to walk around in. I found that out later, after telling Abdel I thought I was in one of the poor quarters. I thought this was one of the extremes, apparently I haven't seen the real extremes yet. I surely felt it though: the shower at the hotel would either get boilingly hot or freezing cold.

I couldn't wait to fall down horizontally and forget all about the reality. An hour later, a loud "Allaaaah!", apparently from a loudspeaker pointed right towards my window made me jump on my bed in cold sweat. 4.25 a.m. After the chock has passed, I actually realized the sound of it was quite beautiful. A morning call for prayers is sometimes heard from the other mosques too, like an echo through the city.

Next morning (or rather, afternoon:)) I attempted my first single escape from the hotel for money-changing purposes and for exploring the area. I couldn't say I felt comfortable, as I am still extremely concerned with insulting the locals by dressing inapropriately or an occasional smile, which can easily be misunderstood, so I was moving around carefully, expecially in the traffic areas.

There is one thing about the Cairo traffick that is a mystery to me. How can it still be such a mess, when nearly every intersection has a policeman on it? I had to wait for 5 minutes before I finally dared to run...for my life. And that's a Russian talking!:)

I have not attempted to make any further single escapes yet, but I cannot wait to do that. Cairo fascinates me to the very core. Instead, I stayed at the hotel and became friends with local employees and the area:

Yasr:


Kareem & Mehrva



Our room:


The hotel:

       

Anastasia>

I was fishing for the issues of particular interest to discuss with Cocityzens, when I realized that I was drowning in the sea of ideas.

The last straight line of thought included concepts like dialogue, openmidedness, ethics, reactions to the 'alien', fears and identity...IDENTITY...

Popular sociology is certainly right: a larger part of what really shapes one's identity is outside of it - its SURROUNDINGS. 7 years ago, when I was walking along the rainy embankments of St.Petersburg and felt like home , I was hardly aware of the fact that I was a Russian. In Denmark, it suddenly became clear: I am a Russian, non-muslim, East-European. Whether I want it or not, I am constantly reminded of this, nearly daily.

It was in Denmark where I became "Ana". A traditonal Russian short "Nastja" for "Anastasia" is no longer me. People started calling me "Ana". I guess the shortening was more logical for the Danes. "Ana" gradually became such a part of me that I hardly ever think of my old short name in everyday routine, considering "Nastja" as something belonging to the old me. Something my mom calls me, or my Russian friends from the 'previous' life.

Last year, while I was serving a fellowship in the U.S. Congress, I suddenly became a Dane, much for political reasons of the people and institutions surrounding me. The office I was working for was very critical of the official Russia and much in favor of Denmark, so the implications were clear: being a Dane was good; being a Russian - bad. So I 'became' a Dane, or rather was turned into one by people surrounding me. And I was a white - a traditonal categorization impossible to escape in the U.S. context.

I wonder who I will be in Cairo in its multitude of identities, immense variety of beliefs and diverse ways of being, all coexisting in one place. I am watching myself closely, from the outside, listening to any inner voice that might give me a clue.

In a week from now...

These links definitely deserve your attention.

Natalia's blog - The Cairo Experience - is an interesting blog from an American college student spending a year doing a language and anthropology course in American University in Cairo. Here is the link:

http://www.ballofdirt.com/members/25627.html


The Western media is boiling with the tragic news on the faith of Egyptian bloggers. Here is a link to the The Egyptian Blog Ring - a bunch of Egyptian blogs in English - to give you an idea of what's on the net from that region.

http://www.egybloggers.com/language.php?langs=english

Cheers,
Ana

I figured this is probably THE day for me to start blogging, since it's been magically filled with casual *Muslim experiences* for me.

I started off with picking up my newly fixed bike from an old friend of mine, a Muslim Pakistani, who has been fixing my everlasting bike problems for YEARS without hardly ever taking a coin for it. Seriously, I'm starting to feel bad about it. Every once in a while I would bring him chocolates but this is in no way in proportion to what he does.

Then I drove past a grocery store owned by a Muslim Turk, where I accidentally forgot some minor goods last week (basically, I just left them on the counter after having paid for them. Very nice!). I was just opening my mouth to explain when the guy stopped the line and handed me my forgotten package as soon as he saw my face, and even gave me a chocolate bar on my way out of the store.

But but but...there is this one particular experience I would like to share that made me feel so special today. I was in Matas near my house just to look for new perfumes, surely ended up buying one, which happens quite often (and which naturally explains my negative balance on my account). Suddenly I saw two veiled women examining some goods. They were dressed in black, wearing black hijabs and talking Arabic. In enormous anticipation of going to Cairo I came up to them and asked them where I could buy the headscarfs similar to those they were wearing. They smiled back at me immediately, and though I wasn't sure they understood what I was saying, they surely seemed to be very open to my request. I tried to explain that I was going to Egypt and they got that one for sure! As soon as I mentioned it, one of them took her black shifon scarf off her head and smilingly put it in my shoulders. It was slightly scented with a very nice perfume. She had another black scarf underneath it covering her head so it did not do any 'damage'. The other woman, who could speak some Danish, explained to me that it was a gift and that I didn't need to buy anything at all. I am not sure what it was: the culture of individualism where these acts of presenting things to a stranger on the street are uncommon, or a pleasant shock, but I stood there stoned with a frozen smile on, and it took me a while before I could actually thank them for the gift! It turned out the two women were from Iraq. They were very open and social, grateful to anybody who had interest in their culture. And they really MADE MY DAY.

Their present inspired me so much that I just had to try it on as soon as I got home and share it with you. I probably did it all wrong but it looked quite authentic to me! :)