Common Grounds

The past couple of days have been a bit strange. There seems to be a lot of excitement about the revolution, which translates to quite a few people acting out of character. I would say to a degree that there is a bit of group psychology at work, especially those who get swept up by the crowded demonstrations and do their very best to be absolutely loud and obnoxious. Even in some of the crowdedness and hustle of the past two days, I have had some delightful moments.

Egyptians, like many around the world, have a love affair with their cell phones. Kids of all ages have the latest Egyptian rock music as their ring tone, while a couple of times now I have heard some older gentlemen set their ring tones to the likes of Christopher Cross and Kenny G! It was a bit surreal when I heard one woman’s cell ring to the opening bars of Rimsky Korsakov’s Sheherezade. Sublime even. The music, combined with recollections of The Thousand and One Nights held a bit of irony, as I was watching a modern Egypt begin to celebrate the anniversary of its revolution, a moment that is clearly still undefined yet remains so hopeful for the Egyptians. Combined with the scene of riding a crowded and dirty tram with all its scents and commotion; the smell of sandalwood and sweat, primrose and fresh pita bread, and the dirt bath that is kicked up from the passing tram through the open window on a cool winter morning; for me, created a moment of clarity. I could only smile as I recalled the reasons why I journeyed to Egypt to adopt its culture — its stories and troubles and hopes, with my family, for the next six months. These are the types of moments that are almost impossible to communicate to others for why I travel and explore and learn another culture.

The story continued when I arrived at the library to partake of another cultural practice. As it is common to talk in groups over coffee, I went to coffee with three other colleagues to talk about affairs of the library. I ordered a double Turkish espresso (Kauwa Turkeya Mazduga – قهوة تركية مزدوجة). Wow! Turkish espresso is much stronger than the espresso I order at Starbucks. I did not see exactly how they made the espresso, but I noticed a little brass pot with grounds – many grounds! – getting roasted over a flame. I am not sure if I regret ordering a double, but I was nearly paralyzed in a caffeine daze for the next couple of hours. Needless to say, I now am the proud owner of a couple of extra chest hairs (thank you!) Our conversation about where to find the best Egyptian food and a need for me to explore other areas of town did not end over Turkish espresso. I learned a couple of hours later that it was required for me to attend coffee with the director, no buts about it. Instead of heading to the Brazilian coffee shop, I met the director and three of my colleagues at the Egyptian coffee house across from the library overlooking the Mediterranean. It was quite a spectacular view. We discussed the impending protests that had already begun to congregate outside of the library, and what to avoid tomorrow during the height of the anniversary celebrations. More importantly, we talked about programming for the library which turned into an interesting conversation about censorship. While my Arabic is still picking up steam, we spent a great deal of the conversation in German with a smattering of French and a generous helping of English. The switching of languages is common practice here, especially at the Bibliotheca, I’ve noticed, because so many pride themselves on their educational upbringing and cultural competence.

Instead of espresso, I had a cappuccino with a piece of chocolate. We had a nice exchange about what can or cannot be accomplished through censorship when presenting works in a public venue. Most of the discussion centered around how to proceed with programming that might be viewed as controversial to the public. For anyone who has worked with programming for the public knows, just about anything can be viewed as controversial. We found common ground between our efforts to maintain a balancing act with “concerned” and objecting patrons both in Egypt and the United States. Clearly there are so many similarities between the two cultures it is almost comical.

I left the library a little early as I was getting a little concerned over the size of the crowds starting to celebrate the holiday a little early. When I left the library I noticed that one end of the main street that intersects the University of Alexandria and the Bibliotheca was blocked with huge crowds of protestors. I was getting a little antsy as I made my way back to the tram. I was not overly concerned as I still stopped off at the bakery for a pound of date bars and a few pieces of fresh pita. Our friends, one of whom is a fellow Fulbrighter teaching at the University of Alexandria, brought us (the family) to a new restaurant around the corner for some fantastic pizza. Three large pizzas and drinks for everyone came to a whopping EGP 54.00 ($8.57!)

In case the day couldn’t get any better, I noticed an invitation from the American Cultural Center in Alexandria (the cultural arm of the US Embassy in Cairo) to meet with the Honorable Ruth Bader Ginsburg (US Supreme Court Justice) for a conversation. How awesome is that! So I feel like a little kid on my birthday. It’s not all cakes and ale, but for now I can have my pizza and coffee cheap and eat it too, or something like that.