The Arabic Language Institute (ALI) organized a trip this past weekend to several masjids in the area near Khan Al-Khalili and Tahrir Square, located in the very heart of Cairo. I was particularly excited for this trip because we actually had a history professor from AUC give us a professional tour complete with historical context about the Islamic architecture, regional developments since the 10th century, the relationship between Islamic world and Europe, and many other very essential points to contextualize the tour.

Unfortunately, a few things hampered the tour. Our bus was late by a full 1 hour and 15 minutes. The driver cited that he thought the time was 9 am for pick-up and not 8 am. Undoubtedly, he had confused the pick-up time for the new campus with that of the Zamalek dorms, which was an hour later. This is another example of clear unprofessionalism by Egyptians, a sentiment that seemed to echo with almost every international student I had talked to about the issue on many occasions. It seems odd, even paradoxical, that this culture appears very impatient and rushed for time (note: Cairo traffic, video to come), and yet people don’t keep their schedules. 2:00 to an Egyptian is heard as 2:30, or even 3:00. I say that in jest to some degree, but there is truth to the statement. Timeliness is not something valued in this culture at all, I find. I certainly have much more appreciation for how much we value it in America in light of my experience here thus far.

Once we got on the bus, I proceeded to study the “10 forms” for my grammar exam. The forms concern Arabic morphology (صرف) and are a defining feature of the language and its linguistic structure. I will post an entry after I take my exams on how I think I did and my thoughts on how I think I have advanced in the language in the past 2 months. I also wore the black jalabiyyah that I bought at Khan Al-Khalili last week to see how it would affect how people interacted with me. As I expected, many people still spoke to me in English when I approached them (almost certainly because I was with a ‘foreign-looking’ group), but when I wandered off on my own, I would only be spoken to in Arabic. When I browsed corner stores and shops for food to stock up on and souvenirs for friends and family, many would ask if I was from Sudan. In all likelihood, they guessed Sudan instead of Ethiopia because I am taller and darker than the average Ethiopian. These conversations were brief, but large in quantity, and it was a perfect chance to practice my Arabic in a setting where the option to switch to English wasn’t available to me.

We arrived at around 10:00 a.m and entered the Sultan Hasan Masjid. The entrance, the professor noted, would have a Shaykh sitting there on Friday mornings reciting verses of the Qur’an to invite people to come for the prayer. Outside of the masjid there used to be a place to make wudu for people as they came in. This particular masjid, in addition to several others larger ones around the city, doubled as a madrassa and housed schoolrooms for all four madhabs (schools of legal thought) – Hanafi (حنفي), Maliki (مالكي), Shafi’i (شافعية), and Hanbali (حنبلي) – of Ahlus-Sunnah wal Jama’ah (the Muslim nation following the methodology of Prophet Muhammad) with a wudu station in the middle of the courtyard, as in all masjids built with the “classical” style open-air courtyard. The professor also mentioned that all four doors led to the main hall of each madhab. There was also a clinic in the masjid, but we didn’t get to go to it. The tour guide also mentioned that Mufti Ali Jumu’ah of Al-Azhar gave the Khutbah on Fridays sometimes.

Past the mihrab (niche indicating the direction of Makkah for prayer) and mimbar (pulpit) there was a mausoleum. In the mausoleum, the professor gave us an overview of the architectural history, noting wood was not plentiful in Egypt. Most of the wood used to build the massive masjid was imported from the region of Ash-Sham, consisting of Palestine, Syria, Jordan, and Lebanon. The masjid was also built with different types of limestone and even marble in some parts. Most of the limestone was from Egypt, while the marble had to be imported. Construction took place during the Mamluk Sultanate, but the Sultan himself never saw completion of masjid since he was assassinated before its completion. He had wanted to be buried in the mausoleum, but his body was never found after his death. While in the mausoleum, an older Muslim man said some dhikr (supplications) loudly to test the echoes for us to hear. “Allahu Akbar! Allahu Akbar! – (الله أكبر الله أكبر) – God is the Greatest, God is the Greatest; La illaha illallah – (لا إله إلا الله) – There is no God but Allah” he announced. After that, we went to the Rifa’iyy masjid, which was right across from Sultan Hassan. As we walked in, we immediately saw the mausoleum of a cousin of Imam Ahmad Ar-Rifa’iyy Al-Kabir – رحمه الله may Allah have mercy on him, a top scholar of the Shafi’i madhab and a highly regarded master of the science of Tasawwuf (تصوف) or Sufism.

The mihrab (محراب) in the Sultan Hassan Masjid

After going to these two masjids, we went into the main square of the area and walked around. We came upon a smaller town off to the side and walked past a funeral procession (جنازة) for someone who had just been buried in the cemetery next to the town’s main masjid. Many of those whom we saw looked to me as if they were from Ethiopia or Sudan. More than likely, their ancestors had either mixed with East Africans or they were just very dark-skinned Egyptians.

Throughout the trip I noticed the professor giving generous tips as donations to those who were showing us around the areas. Many in this district of Cairo are very poor, a far cry from the heavy suburbanization in New Cairo. You can find food stands selling meat, fruit, jewelry, etc. at unheard of prices compared to what one would expect in North America and/or Western Europe. A middle-class American could live very, very well in Cairo, if he/she knew where to find things. After my colleague Mike (a Clemson University graduate with a Masters in Middle East Studies) and I had retrieved our belongings from the bus – which was 40 minutes late to pick us up – we went back to the streets to look for some other students who stayed behind to have lunch in Khan Al-Khalili. Mike and I actually got lost trying to find them. It wasn’t so bad being lost, however, since we got to look around at parts of the city we might not have seen before. At this point, I took off my jalabiyyah because it had gotten unbearably hot. Unsurprisingly, more people started to take note of us, with many small children coming up and saying “Hello, hello!” and any other English phrases they knew. Older people called on occasion “Welcome to Egypt!”, to which I usually responded “Thank you very much, O engineer – شكرا جزيلا يا مهندس” The term مهندس means “engineer” literally, but it is used in Egypt and around the Arab speaking world as a sign of a respect, owing to the fact of engineers being very hardworking and intelligent people. (Thanks for the tip, Dr. Kaltner!)

We found the other students at a cafe near a tent-making area, and joined to relax, hang out, and just take in the sights and sounds. A gentleman approached us, inquiring whether Mike was Turkish, which we all chuckled at since he is Italian. We talked to him collectively in Arabic, with Mike and I speaking on behalf of our small group since we were the most advanced students. The man would reply in English, telling us about his experience with Italian people in light of Mike revealing his true background. We mentioned that we were all students at AUC studying at ALI, and the man commended us, saying to stay focused and diligent. After this brief discussion, I had a falafel sandwich, fries, cup of tea, and shared an Apple shisha for only 7 LE, which is a little over $1 USD. (FYI, the exchange rate is about 5.43 LE to $1 USD). Just sublime. How can you beat that?

As we were leaving, I told the group I needed to pray Asr because it would be out before we returned to campus. I quickly put on my jalabiyyah in front of an old Muslim man who was blind in one eye at the door of a small masjid. I hurriedly asked him where I could make wudu. He kindly led the way inside and another brother inside showed me where I could place my shoes and make wudu. I did so, prayed the sunnah, then joined the jama’ah for Asr. As I left, and told the Muslim man to wait for a bit, and I went to retrieve 3 LE – Egyptian pounds – for him, and told him to take it for the sake of Allah and said “peace be upon you from the American Muslims – ” السلام عليكم من المسلمين أمريكيين ” at which he smiled.

After I had prayed, we made our way to the main street and hailed a taxi to go to campus. Chuck, Mike, and myself nearly died trying to get into the taxi, holding up the unrelenting fiend that is Cairo traffic. It never ceases to amaze me how impatient taxi drivers can be. (This entry is way overdue, I could write a whole book on this phenomenon alone)

All said and done, this was a great trip into the city and a much-needed study break just to calm the nerves before exams roll around. Wish me luck. Also, you can find my Flikr gallery for this trip here —> http://www.flickr.com/photos/46496985@N06/sets/72157623620094916/

Finally, a shoutout to all of my friends, colleagues, and professors at Rhodes since the blog is finally on the Buckman website. Please comment and let me know what you think!

My Arabic skill at the moment is limited to a basic knowledge of the grammar and mechanics of the language. My speaking proficiency is decent, but I lack a vocabulary level necessary to have a sustained conversation and had no access to regular interaction back in the states in classical Arabic. Even here, I am careful who I practice the language with, because my intent it to learn fuSHa, or classical Arabic. The vast majority of Egyptians speak colloquial Arabic specific to this region, which varies in terms of pronunciation and vocabulary for the most part. In many ways, the colloquial detracts from the classical. Even here, I find it difficult to converse with locals because I don’t want to get used to the colloquial. Many can understand me when I speak fuSHa, but I am in a bind when I attempt to discern their colloquial verbiage. In these cases, one of us will usually switch to English in order to maintain the conversation (usually the “other” in the conversation will do so). Unfortunately this fact, as well as having to speak in English with the none ALI (Arabic Language Intensive) international students detracts at least some from my goal of being conversant by the end of my time in the Middle East. In any case, it is something that must be dealt with, and I must utilize the time by going off campus and seeking interactions only in Arabic by speaking with the native population, most of which only know Arabic. In a later entry, I will go more in-depth with respect to the linguistic features of fuSHa and Egyptian colloquial.

I am now enrolled in 5 Arabic courses (3 core classes and 2 electives respectively): Grammar, Vocabulary, Printed Media, Reading & Writing, and Listening. What is great about the program at AUC is that the core component includes all the same students. This is a great way to streamline the learning process and create a small group of students, usually no more than 5, all reviewing the same material so that they can study together and practice speaking together. This, in tandem with bracketing various elements of the language and designating different teachers to specialize in each one allows for a comprehensive environment for language learning that is among the best I have seen anywhere.

All of that said, despite the headache I experienced the first weekend with the bureaucracy at AUC (see blog entry #2), I tip my hat to their Arabic Language department. The professors and academics once again prove to be the bread & butter of the institution and the students are (or should be) the rising intellectuals who will take their theoretical knowledge and apply in the discourse of everyday life. This is my goal with Arabic: to reach a point where I will be able to translate texts and make educated commentary on the Middle East utilizing technical mastery of the language’s finer points (morphology, vocabulary, case endings, sentence structure, etc) along with application of the language through practice with laymen and scholars alike to develop an even more keen sensibility towards Arab and Muslim sociopolitical concerns as they relate to the world.

I hope to spend some more time drawing observations in the coming weeks once I find a financially feasible and hassle-free way of getting into Old Cairo and other parts of Egypt so that I can really immerse myself in the culture of Egypt (and, hopefully, other parts of the Middle East when summer rolls around).

For those who can read Arabic, you’ll notice that “Pizza” is transliterated directly from the English. With “Papa John’s,” there is no avoiding this as it is a proper noun. However, with a common noun such a pizza, coffee, or the like, I found it interesting that many establishments, whether they originated in the US or not, tend to write Arabic script transliterated from the English as opposed to using the Arabic translation. (i.e; كوفي instead of قهوة) Just a small observation of a linguistic marker of the East/West binary evident in Cairo.

Note: Click the tab on the blog entitled “Arabic Studies” for a look at  some of the material I am using inside and outside of my courses.

For the 3^rd year in a row, the nation of Egypt has won the esteemed African Cup. Their 1-0 victory tonight over the very strong and respectable Ghana marked their 19^th consecutive national team win in this tournament, a most difficult feat to accomplish.

As a longtime fan of futbol – or soccer if you prefer – I greatly enjoyed the action of the African Cup and was most fortunate to be able to enjoy it with other longtime fans from Egypt. I have rarely found people so enthralled and fervent just in watching a sport, much less playing it. In my experience, I find that many Americans dislike soccer because there isn’t enough scoring or enough “action.” However, there is much more to the game than that. The beauty of futbol, particularly on the international level, is watching a game that many grew up playing in the streets with one’s fellow countryman. It is a game that can be played anywhere with anyone, and as such functions as a sort of social adhesive. When we watched the game, everyone was on the same level, be they poor, rich, well-dressed, disheveled, or what have you. That group of 11 players who took to the field represented everyone in Egypt, play for both national pride and love of the game. Granted, there are also cons to excessive nationalism, but we’ll leave that for a more academic blog entry.

Me with Mahmoud Al Khatib, considered by many to be the best Egyptian futbol player, and one of the most renowned in the world. He just happened to be sitting in the restaurant while a group of AUC students was watching the Egypt vs Cameroon game!

The semifinal game against Algeria was particularly heated due to the rivalry these teams have had over the course of their history of matches. This match was a must win for Egypt not only to advance to the finals, but to win back their tarnished image and national pride after the fiasco in the World Cup qualifier in Khartoum. To find out more, read here.

Throughout the game, Egypt kept pressure on Algeria offensively. There were many hard challenges by Algeria, resulting in an unheard of 3 red cards in the game. Some might want to argue that, for political reasons, Egypt was “handed the game”. That would be easy for someone who only saw the final statistics to say. Anyone who watched the game and analyzed it honestly saw that Algeria was being very aggressive and that Egypt outplayed them. It escalated over the course of the game as it kept getting more and more out of reach for them. Granted, the penalty kick at the beginning was suspect, seeing as it is not allowed to stop in the middle of the run. That aside, the game proceeded more than fairly and Egypt proceeded to humiliate Algeria and reclaim (some) of their lost pride en route to the final game against Ghana to defend their title.

Highlights of the Egypt vs. Algeria match

Watching the African Cup final in the city of Rehab at “New Look Cafe”

The final game against Ghana was the most exciting to watch in my opinion, not just because it was the final, but because the teams were so evenly matched. The game against Algeria was a complete blowout. It was exciting to watch, no doubt, but the game against Ghana just made you want to hold your breath the whole time. The feeling experienced at this game and observed by was unlike anything I had ever experienced watching a futbol game. Following are the notes I took during the finals game, Egypt vs Ghana, to capture the feeling.

There is a distinct intensity in the air, and lungs tighten with every passing moment. Tense viewers sip their tea quietly in anticipation of every cleanly made pass and each well executed cross maneuver by an Egyptian player. Others chatter loudly as they smoke shisha, and still others sit and watch intently, preparing at any moment to cry out in joy or yell in anguish depending on which side scored the first strike. The momentum of the game shifts regularly, based on the succession of scoring opportunities by either team. Egypt, a team known for its prowess, finds difficulty penetrating Ghana’s rock solid defense. Both goalies are rock solid throughout, with many good looks goal-wise for both teams. With every goal opportunity and miss from Egypt, a collective outburst from the crowd arises. What few cars are on the streets honk in support of Egypt in a way that is distinguished from honking for traffic. Even among onlookers who appear stoic, rigid in their demeanor, they let out sighs of relief at Ghana’s near misses. In the 70^th minute, the best opportunity by Egypt up to that point is swatted aside by the Ghanaian a goalkeeper and a man behind me screams as if in ecstasy, frustrated that Egypt was unable to capitalize, especially given how close it was to the end of regulation. Whichever team scored at the point was almost certain to be the victor. The tension in the air could be cut with a knife as we watch anxiously at the “New Cafe” in the city of Rehab (pronounced Ray-haab). It could turn from silent (save the sounds of the game) to deafening in a moment. It comes to the 80^th minute now. Gedo, the top goal scorer of the tournament (and a substitute at THAT!) has come into the game. The crowd chants his name, playing drums to the beat of a makeshift song in honor of his playing ability. As the 85^th minute approaches, Gedo makes it through the midfield, reaches the penalty box, AND…

Gedo Strike: 85th Minute

GOAL! It is the moment we’ve all been waiting for! The crowd erupts, cars start honking, everyone is celebrating. The victory is almost certain now, but 5 grueling minutes remain (plus injury time) before it is official, so it doesn’t get too out of hand. As the final whistle blows, everyone is hugging each other, giving high fives, and screaming Masr Masr Masr! (Egypt! Egypt! Egypt!) It was a great time all around, and everyone in the city partied all night long in celebration. It was truly something to behold and my favorite night in Cairo so far. This is just the beginning.

Celebration of Egypt’s African Cup victory in the city of Rehab

It seemed easy enough on paper, but it has been a hassle to try and get out and about in the city as well as spend time on campus dealing with the administration. Getting away from the campus is particularly difficult, not to mention expensive. The university offers bus passes for $300 US, which is quite pricey. I can do a lot with that amount and still be able to travel around the city with small groups for far cheaper, which is what I plan to do.

It has been tedious because of the fact that university just moved to this campus in New Cairo a year ago. There are also multifarious problems in communication, not limited to those of a linguistic nature. For instance: I have heard from many students that they have had all kinds of problems, whether it dealt with Residence Life being hard-nosed about refunds (or at least being transparent in their policy concerning it), getting incorrect orders from many, if not all, of the eating establishments on campus, or the like, it has just been problematic across the board. The last point might seem minute, but it speaks to the noticeable cultural divide between international students and Egyptian students, which I will explain in more detail as I make more observations of this phenomenon. This will be a recurring them throughout my blog: that is, the binary of East and West, and how that plays out on the campus and in the city.

I was told on my 3rd day here that I had to complete my payment for housing on campus because invoices were sent late to every student. For some reason, I was required to withdraw money from an ATM to pay my housing bill instead of just paying the school directly with a debit card. I was instructed to withdraw the money in LE (Egyptian Pounds), then go to the bank, exchange my money for US dollars, then get a signed invoice and pay in cash.

Wait, what? Shouldn’t this have been arranged before my arrival? Why wasn’t the process made easier? I spent needless hours back and forth on campus attempting to navigate this situation and get it sorted out. Furthermore, why is Residence Life charging exorbitant prices for outings this first week? Maybe (well, not maybe, it is) because they know students don’t have much going on the first week before classes, and they don’t know what the cost is to travel around the city, so they can jack up the prices and

Don’t get me wrong: I love the city of Cairo, and I have already met many new friends, colleagues, and fellow academics, and gone on some amazing trips, but I don’t care at all for the bureaucracy I had to deal with at AUC already in this first week. It has been a headache, and one that I feel has been draining. Hopefully this will be smoothed out before classes start and I won’t have to worry about it afterwards. I just want to focus on my studies and get the most of my experience in the Middle East.

Why then, if I had been preparing all these years for this, should I be nervous? Maybe it’s just that feeling everyone gets before any major travel, the butterflies in your stomach if you will. Then again, it could be that general uneasiness I feel about going into a new social situation. But that’s normal, isn’t it?

The last few days have been a blast, to use the vernacular. I spent a great weekend with the local Muslim youth group, caught up with and said farewells to some of my friends/colleagues at Rhodes – forgive me if I didn’t see you and say bye – and had dinner with my family at Bonefish Grill. The imperial longfin was sublime. I don’t imagine I’ll be having too many of those in Cairo.

Ahh, yes, Cairo. My first destination and the major part of my Middle East experience for my study abroad. I will be studying at the American University in Cairo for 4 months in an Arabic Language Intensive program. Then, as soon as word is finalized, I will be in Jordan for another program called Qasid in Amman, Jordan. We’ll see how  they both go.

Right now, I proceed with excitement and tenacity in the face of what is sure to be both a challenging and stretching experience mentally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. I’m ready. But first, I need to get on my plane.  Until next time.