A Little Bit of Egyptians Being Egyptians

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Through the study of history, it is easy to see the glorious rise of kingdoms and its sorrowful fall after seemingly permanent peace and glory.
It makes me wonder, in those times when I contemplate the past and its link with the now and tomorrow, if the last awful 30 years of Mubarak’s reign, that hateful oppression, were just another intermediate period like the ones I have read about in the History of Egypt. You know, the natural course of time. I often send a cosmic question to the void; will the following years be the beginning of a new era when all shall rest with a spot of contentment? Will it bring a shimmer to the writhed soul of Egypt? A dose of hope…

I admit that The Revolution of January 25th didn’t really bring out the best in the Egyptians, because anger tends to delete some of the minds functions, which is to force one to stop before acting and think for a moment. But for one thing it made me realize how much I love this country, for it had never crossed my mind to actually write about “Egypt through my eyes”.
It is strangely elating, I absolutely love it.
This piece was inspired by sheer quirk of coincidences. I was on my way to the University (I live 5 minutes away by bus, 10 minutes on foot) in a bus, sitting next to to a very old, poor-looking woman. Riding in buses to go any where all over the republic makes you indifferent to whoever is sitting by you, unless of course that person is a creep and you have to do something about it.
Any way, that particular ride took us 10 minutes because the smoking driver took a detour to pick up people in order to complete the seats. This time, though, I was aware of the old lady beside me, because once we took that detour I heard the rustling of plastic bags followed by the unmistakable, mouthwatering smell of Falafel (Tamiya as we Egyptians call it). Well, I was running late and had to dash out of the house without having breakfast and you could just imagine what that merciless smell was doing to me and my digestive system–my whole body to be honest.
Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw her pulling the crisp greenish orb that was the Tamyia out of one of the bags and place it inside the freshly baked bread. Suddenly I jumped, she was tapping at my arm.
And in her hand she was extending the sandwich toward me with a lighthearted smile.
Well, that I didn’t see coming, I remember telling myself. In all truth I wanted to take it, I had no problem at all, but then again why should she sacrifice her breakfast for me? So I refused, saying that I had already had breakfast. She insisted. I refused one more time, my voice lacking in conviction. She settled and began eating.
I had the strangest feeling then as I watched her eat happily. And then it hit me; I should write about that incident as soon as I get home.
From there the idea grew and grew inside my head till I came up with this piece…

1- The Great Sense of Humor:
I love a good sense of humor. I like it wicked, with implications when suited, and hilarious facial expression or when someone cracks a joke while in the grip of anger. Therefore, one of the comedies I like a lot is the English–American or British–
But, as an Egyptian to the core and writing about that things that makes Egyptians special, that is one of the things that were jotted on top of the list. I have found nothing that could compare to the marvelous ways the Egyptians make me laugh. It happens every where. On a bus(especially that), walking through campus, talking to a professor, going to The Museum or chatting away on the phone or in a chat-box.
In every gathering there is a frizzle of voices then a united laughter rises afterwards, either the whole group talks about one thing or multiple conversations are undergoing, laughter always attracts all. There is always a smile, even on the faces of the statues I study.
In fact, I believe, from my somewhat narrow perspective, that Egypt is one of the very few countries in which you can smile for no apparent reason and no one would call you a freak in the face. On the contrary, if you are a girl, they would smile back and say words of compliments. If you are a boy, well, you will pull the attention of girls like a magnet.

2- Hospitality:
That is something about Egyptians that is renowned globally, I think.
It is in our nature to be generous, the aforementioned lady is one of the many many examples I have came across. If a new neighbor is moving into the flat-complex, we offer help and by the end of the day, more than one the older occupants would bring food to the new comers. If you’re a foreigner and pass by a gathering –especially, in the towns of Upper Egypt– they would insist you come in and have a cup of tea or even lunch.
The Upper Egyptians are really generous, in more than one way. Once, me and family have traveled up the Nile to visit some distant relatives that I never knew existed till then, and they practically offered their beds for us while the spent the night on the floor, with nothing but wool blankets to make up for mattresses.
I was astonished.
I mingle with a lot of foreigners. And they all have been here in Egypt for as long as I have, and they don’t want to leave it. Well, I don’t think that it is just because of their work.

3- Land of Civilization? mmm, not so much:
Ehm. To be honest I hesitated when it came to writing this item here, because… well, it is expected of me to write all good and well?

I am not really sure, but the truth is that I write about what I see in Egypt, but up until now–thank God– all agreed with me about this one. The way I see it it just wouldn’t do to write all the positives and leave out the negatives as if they had done something “naughty”. It’s after all the Egyptians’ fault.
They in short have lost a great deal of respect for themselves, they have forgotten who they are and their worth. They moved to the countries of Arabs in search for the extra money and in return they seemed to think that to give up a bit of their dignity is due. They began to measure everything by how much a person has in her-is wallet. Therefore, they started seeing almost everything by the exterior, by looks.
Some of that is of course because of the cursed reign of Mubarak, but really, we shouldn’t have forgotten this much of our principles.     We compromised a lot of things. And of course that reflected on the presence of women in the country.
They are a bit degraded, and treated with obvious disrespect, which the women have conspired in, because we grow up taught that it is impolite of a girl to raise her voice or curse. I agree with not cursing all the time while on the street, but seriously, why the hell should I simply walk away when someone is spitting in my face (the face of half the society, for God’s sake) without a right? (that is for one. I don’t to get too deep into this because it would be worth a series of articles, not an item among many)
We have trashed the country. There is rubbish where should never be rubbish, and sometimes I get the feeling that they drive like they are blindfolded or something. And that, loss of lives and loss of general presentable view is totally unexcused.
The problem about Egyptians is that most of the time they think they are so tough and can take on anything and any one by force.
The problem about this country is that it was being infused with ignorance and bullies for a really long time.
Something is terribly . My people were brainwashed.

4- Family… Family… Family:
Now, almost every Egyptian has a dream of finishing school, finding a job and getting married. That is it. Marriage is a great deal here. And it includes a double-standards against women. If you are 30 year-old woman and not married yet, then something must be wrong with you. If you are a 30-year-old man and not married, poor you, then you just haven’t found the right one for you. Divorcees (startlingly growing in number)  are not put on a pedestal too.
However, when it comes to family ties we have that in abundance. When my grandma was still alive, my dad’s side, he used to drive for two hours to stay with her for a day, sometimes the whole weekend. And when my mum’s mum was still alive, mum used to do the same, now she sees her dad twice a month (things are not too good between them) and call him constantly, too.
Here, family comes first. We like it a lot. And I think if we had that move-out-of-your-parents-house thing going we would still have it strong.
Just take a peek at the time of big holidays like Al Aid, when we celebrate the end of Ramadan, or something. It is really beautiful.
In general, we have good social relations among each other, if they were snagged by the grave errors of Mubarak, we still have respect for our neighbors and we congratulate each other on every occasion, whether we are Muslims or Christians.
Besides, we are not racists.

5- Genius:
Besides being the only Arabic-speaking country in which 4 Nobil Prize Winners were brought up(which I am so very proud of), we are like a force of nature when it comes to reaching higher for a good goal, when we have an aim in life.
“If there is a will there is a way” is a religion to us. I have seen it happen. The world sees it happen. Egyptians like hard work (even when it sometimes appears only in other countries, but that I could tolerate, since during the reign of Mubarak, there was nothing good in the country to work for any way).
I see that hard work in my good fellow students, I see it in the ways of my good professors.

**Egypt is the only country that has 13 candidate for Presidency. Yes it is only 3 or 4 who are coming pretty powerful, but 13? That is just plain hilarious. I thought I would add that among the other stuff, because I just can’t believe it.
**In Egypt, riding a bus, sometimes feels like playing in an amusement park, a Ferres Wheel, Roller Coaster, you name it. Really, once a week or so I get on a bus that is so miserable that you feel every bump in the asphalt, it squeaks and you see people inside swaying from side to side and even bouncing on their bottoms. It is my own comic-book. A hilariously slightly unsafe adventure.

6- Art:
For me there will never again come a man like Omar Al Sharif, Adel Imam, Amr Waked and especially Ahmed Zaki and Mohammed Mounir Abdl Halim Hafez, that man twists my heart with passion. And I admire the honesty and audacity of Khaled Yusuf, and the genius of Yusuf Shahin.
Nor will I know a woman like Soa’ad Hosney, Rula Zaki, Om Kalthum.
There are many many more across this country and around the globe, but those are the ones I love most; the ones that set us apart.

I would have liked to write more, but that is already too much.
I know that mine is not by any stretch of imagination the best country, but I love it.
And I know that Egyptians have seen and been through too much and that they are different in a more complicated way than I could understand, let alone write about.
But if there is one thing I am sure about is that every once in a while the people of this country do what they do best; they make history.

Stalker. Abductor. Lover 5

 Natalie.
That was her name. Beautiful, mysterious, untouchable.
Natalie.
He tried not to think of her. He tried to keep a train of thought that was at a safe distance from her. But it seemed hard. Impossible. Where he was grateful of having so much on his hands, receiving assignments, packing information, setting the scene, and exacting the mission, they were things he now went through them mindlessly, almost without any notable effort. They were always things that occupied the hands, but left the mind free to wonder. And it was bound to wonder about her, send its tendrils away and imagine where she was, what she was doing.
God knew he tried to quell it as soon it started, because it was not right. He was  not exactly a man trained to lead a normal life along side his career, but there was always this sound in his head that told him that there was nothing normal about this any way. That as long as he kept his distance and didn’t contact her, all was good. He could have digested that just fine if only she was not there every where he looked, around every corner he took. If only he didn’t go up the mountain road every morning with his irrational hope to see her again. Just another chance, another sneak peek at the forever in her eyes.
There was no safe distance when it came to her. No escape.
Once he gave in to the temptation to be around her he could not get enough. He grew hungry  to see her, every night bringing a new wave of longing to see her face, a single naughty curl of hair inflamed by a sun ray, the dusting of freckles across her face that was so cute when she smiled it nearly broke his heart.
Until the day he realized he was lying to himself in the long time he pretended to have ran into her by sheer accident, or checked the three branches of La Stella from afar and when he found her, he told himself that he honestly had nothing to do with that innocent, wonderful coincidence.

It took him by surprise, this obsession, something so foreign, so human. He was a man who had been rarely surprised in his life, but it slipped into his every thought, soaked through his pores. And he really did try to let it go, to forget about her, to deliberately put her in a far corner of his mind, and pray that she would recede and fade. But it seemed stronger than him. He couldn’t keep thoughts of her at bay, something always so maddeningly unexpected. There was nothing to help his case. When on an assassination, looking through his scope he sometimes saw her ghost walking across the circular vision, a distracting shadow, and during the hours of sleepless nights he imagined her there beside him or strolling outside the bedroom door.
 And his desires were changing his thoughts, spicing them up.

 One day he was back on a roof top in a posture of an assassin doing what assassins did best, only this time his only this time his sole tool was a binoculars. And it was then as he held it to his eyes, looking at her lengthily, her body strong and smooth going through the motions of Yoga in her living room– an arch of nimble spine, a wave from slender arm, a seductive curve of graceful neck– mindless and completely mesmerizing did the assassin became a stalker.
It was helpless. He was helpless…