Rollin' on a River

Rollin' on a River

Last night was the trial run at Nile Bowling for what I hoped to turn into an official CASA bowling league. We began with libations at Luke's place - the call for White Russians as the drink of the night was made, but in the absence of Kahlua, we used Tia Maria and baptized them Chechen Freedom Fighters instad.

Nile Bowling is one of those odd fun finds in Cairo. It's tucked away on the corniche along the Dokki side of the Nile, which is populated with various rowing clubs, the very posh looking club of the Arab Contractors Society, a Gold's Gym, a Swiss Restaurant and the residence of President Sadat's widow, Jehane. Unlike my side of the river, the corniche here is spacious, clean and pleasant for strolling. Not a whole lot of khawaggas running around, therefore no one trying to sell you roses or carriage rides or "buus"-ing at you.

As you walk into Nile Bowling, you pass the obligatory security guard and then make your way down a small, winding staircase, at the bottom of which you are greeted by a giant poster of pop superstar Amr Diab. As you walk into the bowling alley itself, there is a mobile phone kiosk to your left and a bootleg CD/tape/DVD kiosk to your right, just behind the eight lanes that are flanked on the left side by floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Nile. Bowling shoes are optional at Nile Bowling, but they do have one of the most sophisticated electronic scoring systems I have ever seen.

I managed to score just over half of what I came up with on my last bowling outing in Chicago last month, but nontheless, Amir, Steve, "Jonatooon," Blake, Leonard and I managed to whup Luke, Eli, Michelle, Pete, Mimi and Nir's asses royally. The future of the CASA bowling league is uncertain as of the moment, as people have suggested the creating of a sporting club instead, by which we could enjoy a range of totally random activities like ice skating and duck hunting. Stay tuned.

GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAALLLLLL!!!!!

GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAALLLLLL!!!!!

So the African Cup is going on and Egypt is the host this year. As you can imagine, this means that things are even more hysterical than usual, especially since Egypt just won its semi-final match against Senegal last night. This means they play Cote d'Ivoire in the final this Thursday and I can't even imagine what chaos the city will be plunged into if they win (odds look good). Last night was tough enough to sleep through with the waves of BEEP BEEP BI-BI-BEEEP's that sped through my neighborhood after the game.

A couple friends had 300LE tickets to watch the match last night, but apparently security barred the gates around 3pm (the match started at 7 or 8pm). I'd be willing to bet my left arm that they and the 200 something other fans who got screwed out of the game have also been screwed out of their money.

The "Silent of Bracelet" Aesthetic

The "Silent of Bracelet" Aesthetic

So Sunday was Pay Rent In The Backseat Of My Landlady's Car Day, and to my surprise she brought her husband with her, the mysterious businessman who works in Libya, who I had never met before. After a charming conversation during which I had to reassure her that Ethiopians are capable of being clean and pleasant people too, her husband extended a very gracious invitation (what do you call it when "no" is not an option?) to have dinner at their home sometime. The conversation went something like this:

Mr. Libya: Has Henan (my housekeeper) been cooking for you?

Ms. Khawagga: Not since the summer, sir. I've just been too busy with school and am always eating on the go. (NOTE: what I really wanted to say was, "Not since the summer, sir. I'm afraid the sodium/fat content would kill me within a week.")

Mr. Libya: Don't you like Egyptian food? You really should eat more of it.

Ms. Khawagga: Oh yes! I love Egyptian food (when I want to clot an artery or two)!

Mr. Libya: You really need to eat more Egyptian food. You're too skinny. If you eat more Egyptian food, then you can look like my wife!

(Mrs. Libya/Landlady giggles raucously in that way only rotund, upper middle class Egyptian housewives can do)

Ms. Khawagga: Oh, God willing, sir, God willing.

Like in many countries, there is a healthy love here of what one might call the "Silent of Bracelet" aesthetic. As my CASA colleague, Ben, explained to me the other day, it comes from pre-Jahiliyya poetry, in which one of the highest compliments a man can pay a woman is to call her "silent of bracelet" - that is, she is so fleshy that when she walks, her bracelets do not jingle.

Call me crazy, but if I ever become "silent of bracelet," someone call Weight Watchers pronto before the zoo gets me.

The Bitch Is Back.

The Bitch Is Back.

Hey everyone, Happy Year of the Dog. I just got back to Cairo last Thursday afternoon and am back at AUC for the first day today. It's surprisingly untraumatic to be back. It probably helped that I ran into two fellow Casawiyeen, Amir and Nir, at the airport, fresh from their Indonesian jaunt, so I had good company for the typically smooshy, stop-and-go, death-defying taxi ride home.

I flew in via Malpensa Airport in Milano; I don't know how I missed the scenary on the way to the states back in December. It happened to be an exceptionally beautiful morning, vibrant blue sky and and bright sunshine illuminating the pristine snow atop the Dolomites hovering in the distance. Breathtaking. As opposed to the smoggy, smudgy skies over Cairo Airport that blocked out the sun.

So I've promised you all, dear readers, that I would blog more regularly this semester. Given my schedule, I don't have an excuse not to. With any luck, I'll have a three-day week at school: Writing, Translation, Media Arabic and a seminar on Civil Society and Development. I fear this first week will be a rude awakening after six long weeks of Arabic-free living, but I'm excited, too. I'm hoping to spend much more time exploring this crazy city, Egypt and bits of the region (while my American passport still lets me) in the coming months, so hopefully I will have entertaining stories to share.

To start with, I have a new flatmate this semester. Her name is Abeba, and she is a lovely young woman from Ethiopia. She married an American guy named Howard a few years ago and has a beautiful young daughter named Hana; the unfortunate bit is that it's taking an awfully long time for Abeba to get her American citizenship so she can be with her husband and daughter who are now in the states. In the meanwhile, she is here taking English classes, watching a lot of Oprah and making some really incredible meals that I would be a fool to refuse. I can't imagine how hard it must be to be separated from one's family and not know how long it will be before the great American bureaucracy stamps the right paperwork. Anyhow, I'm really enjoying getting to know Abeba while getting a totally different perspective on Cairo from someone who's not a priveleged young American studying abroad.

Thanks to Debbie, I've been reading some great books the past few weeks: for starters, Joan Didion's Play It As It Lays, a beautifully sparse and bitter story of West Coast living in the late 60's; and currently, Bruce Chatwin's The Songlines which is about his adventures in Australia following the Aboriginal traditions by which the world was sung into creation. His writing is so goddamn good and each chapter is a captivating story in and of itself. I remember not being able to get into In Patagonia a while back, but am now thinking I should give it another shot when I get back. Somewhere between Didion and Chatwin is where I'd like my writing to be, if that makes any sense at all.