Soccer, suits (bathing), sexy, sad, & scary,

With a group of other international students and some of our Egyptian classmates, we went to Wadi el-Ryan (valley of the whales), so named due to many ancient whale skeletons found in the vicinity, the remainder of when Egypt was covered with a large sea millions of years ago. The attractions are the highly-saline lake and the only waterfall in Egypt (a completely pathetic 4 meter drop). We went to swim, take out a boat, and have a picnic--general funness. By the end of the day, we had bought a lot of pottery, caused a scandal by going in a forbidden area of the nature reserve by accident, and caused a second scandal by wearing swimsuits. Unlike in the US where the forbidden area would be termed as such due to migratory birds or something similar, in this case it just had sticky mud (which the whole lake had) and that was the extend of the forbidden rationale. But see we were there in order to avoid people so that we could go swimming in our swimsuits. So attempt #2: we go in the opposite direction from the main beach, where there are no guys and therefore nothing is haram, and strip down to swimsuits. Next thing we know, a soccer ball is accidentally kicked across the beach and a 5-year old is sent to chase it... with a full entourage of 10 older males. The Egyptian girls accompanying us had stayed on the beach and proceeded to give them a tongue lashing that Vanessa, Kate, and JoAnna would be proud of. Meanwhile, Saquina can't leave the water because she's Muslim and it is haram (despite the fact that her bathing costume covers more than any of my clothes have ever covered) for them to see her and so I, in my bikini, have to leave the water to bring Saquina a towel before she can leave the water. Slightly traumatizing...
But while slightly sketchy at this point, earlier in the day, and again later, I definitely did my part for international relations. I'm telling you, those 15 years of soccer have absolutely payed off.
Condie (Madam Secretary) may be making an ass out of America by telling Egypt it's okay to deny the consitutional rights of anyone who might be against Mubarak (aka el presidento) while they run around promoting his presidentness with loud pop music and oversized posters, but I am working to ensure that in the agricultural heartland of Egypt, the word "America" has connotations of getting your ass kicked by a nice girl.
It was American University Cairo (aka 3 American guys, 1 Egyptian guy and me) versus 5 guys from the Fayoum and at the end of the game (actually, when we got tired and went to eat lunch) the score was 6-5. I scored, had 2 assists, and for the rest of the afternoon received handshakes and awed stares from my new friends, who pronounced my name "lan-sea", but whatever works.
This was also one of the many major hints I have received that class differences are an entirely different matter here than America. In Egypt, socioeconomic status is everything and social mobility is considered utopian and naive. As we were informed on our first day "don't date the gas station attendent, because he will always be a gas station attendent", but they're not just poor you know... they're dirty and bad and stupid (too stupid, in fact, to vote in a democracy), and a lower, darker type of human. Don't worry, I haven't turned into a bigot, no chance of that ever happening, but in the past week I have seen appaulling displays of class-based discrimination that are rivaled only by my horror at the police. Yes, the protecting police who not only arrested ten of my Egyptian colleagues who protested the constitutional reform amendment, but raped three Egyptian girls after chasing them down Sha'aria Talat Haarb and cornering them in a building.

In other news, kitty #3 has died (I had to pick it up; it was horrifically gruesome) and we have adopted kitty #4. Giving a kitty a flea bath is get another addition to my list of "things I didn't think I would be doing in Egypt, but apparently will despite my better judgement".

Back to schoolwork--just thought I'd send this off so that you all can see the paradox and the chasms and the little joys and horrors that make me love it here so much.
Just when everything has gone wrong, something beautiful happens, you learn a lot from an internship, you get offered a position doing experiential environmental education with small kids, or the 6 degrees of separation between you and a new friend dwindle down to one or two.

why I am a bad person

So I am a bad person. Why? Because I have not updated my blog in going on a month right now and I am worry. Am I allowed to blame midterms? Yes, midterms and my fieldtrips and my visit to Luxor. Also, I am a bad person because today I am telling you a bunch of vignettes about people in Egypt and why this is the most amazing and fun and amusing place I have ever been.
To start with, the people in my everyday life...
Egypt has the most wonderful oranges in the world, straight from family orchards throughout the Delta and the Fayoum Oasis. I buy them from an old man in a galabeeya (robe) and each time I buy oranges, I say "wadi kilo) and he gives me 5 oranges, I hand him 4-5 pounds, and he smilingly unpeels a banana for me to eat on the way home. In attempting to explain where I am from the other day, since he has by now ascertained that "ana ameriqu'a" is not specific enough, I looked to my right, pointed at a shiny red delicious apple and said "hibba"--I'm from here. Sure enough, it was one of those well-travelled Washington apples I see popping up around Cairo. But lets face it, a free banana is enough to make anyone's day, right? Well a few weeks ago I was walking back from the fruit aquisition adventure and a man in front of the florists shop cries out "miss, wait!". Admittedly, I kind of ignored him but he runs up to me holding a carnation and says "I am so sorry I almost ran into you when you walked by earlier". So I had a pink carnation that lasted two weeks in a water-bottle vase on my dining room table. Just when you give up hope that men in Egypt will ever be human and normal, they do something sweet to re-instill hope in you.
Which brings me to why I keep almost giving up hope... walking down streets here in an exercise in what my third grade teacher (Mr. Smith) would term "mental toughness". I defy anyone to match my ignoring skills... in DC people ignore one another because they don't care; here I ignore men because they are making lewd, annoying, nonsensical, or incomplrehensible comments. These comments range from "welcome" and "beautiful" to a long list of countries in an attempt to figure out where I am from "Ireland? England? Spain? Mexico? Russia? France? Oh, American? Long Island? Manhattan? Los Angeles? Florida?". I am kind of tempted to see how many states they actually know sometime instead of power walking away, shaking my head in amusement. My personal favorite incident, to date, has been courtesy of a 40 something man in a nice suit outside a bank. Apparently, seeing me inspired him to break out into a rendition of "it's a beautiful life"... Suffice it to say, I totally sympathise with Dudley Dursley when he ends up in the zoo cage in lieu of the snake in the first Harry Potter movie. As a blonde American, I definitely feel "on display" at times!!!
Despite feeling on display at times, my run-ins with actual tourists have made me inendingly grateful that I am not a real tourist like them. I'm foreign, obviously, but not THAT obviously...
And I would like to take this opportunity, as an American, to whole-heartedly thank the Europeans for winning, without contest, the award for tackiest visitors. In general, people here need a lesson is realizing that you are in someone else's country and that maybe you should respect their modesty morals and pattern your clothing along the lines of not being mistaken for a cheap hooker. Tourists, in fact, seems to suffer from the same delusions as many Egyptologists, who refuse to admit that the study or visit of Ancient Egypt does, in fact, involve contact with Modern Egypt and its paradoxes, values, social hierarchies, poverty, and multiple realities.
As I was sitting in a local coffee shop near my school writing a paper, I suddenly looked up and choked on the cappuccino I was swallowing. There, in front of me, was a woman in a tight, bright orange wife-beater tanktop and short orange shorts. Her husband matched. She had a flowered tatoo peeking out from under the skin-tight demin shorts on her upper thigh. I mean seriously, just because your football team (for non-football officionados, the Netherlands kits are orange) is playing the the cup that day doesn't mean you can show off enough skin as to be worthy of Miami Beach or the Riviera. I thought that might be the worst of it, but then I got to Luxor... oh Luxor.
In one of the poorest areas of the country, Luxor's entire economy is dependent upon tourism and the Euros dominate the scene. Tacky French couples dress in jackets that not only match, but are a map of the world!!! Add a little rotundness and I saw people wearing globes in the Valley of the Kings... I actually had to sit down I was laughing so hard!
In temples throughout the valley I saw backless tanktops, entire bras through low-cut, sheer tops, men in shorts so short they might as well just retreat to Sharm el-Sheik (a big resort town on the Red Sea coast with lots of French and Russian tourists) and call them Speedos. Unfortunately, I have no great stories about Luxor Temple as I was too busy taking pictures of the horde of children who accosted me and demanded digital photos of them and hiding from the sketchy Egyptian men. Note to all my guy friends: repeatedly hiding behind ancient monuments such as sphynxes and then popping out to take photos of an unsuspecting girl will not magically make her pants fall open, it will merely make her hide behind a group of elderly British men who have agreed to protect her. This is not a fool-proof pick-up strategy. I mean really, what kind of dumb do they think we are??? ((Don't answer that!!!))
The winner goes to the American sheik, a teenage male who decided to wear a white thobe (the white robe worn by saudi men) and a white kafia (head covering with the black band around the head like a crown). You know, Laurence of Arabia style. It went fabulously with his red basketball shorts and his dramatic poses at Hapshetsust's temple, you know? I think, if she were still alive, our dear queen would have had him banished to the western desert for lack of tact, taste, and cultural awareness. Seriously? Many people in Egypt resent Gulfis (people from Gulf States) becaues they are incredibly rich and they consider the Egyptian migrant laborers in their countries to be inferior, despite being fellow Arabs.
In the next few days, you will learn about why soccer is the international language of amazing, my spring break plans, and any other random stories I come across (highly likely). These stories may involve water buffalo on a 4-lane thoroughfare... one never knows.