Going Native

So sorry it's been so long since my last post! But, good news, during this hiatus myself and four of the other girls in the program moved into a fantastic new apartment in the best neighborhood in Alex! I promise to post some pictures of the new place and of the many meals that are going to be made in the (huge) kitchen, but today I want to tell you about a different kitchen. An Egyptian kitchen. The kitchen of my friend Mona's mother-in-law. Mona was the lovely woman I met in Siwa, the brilliant artist from Alexandria. Last weekend she gave me a call and invited me to lunch at her house in the neighborhood of Semouha. Mona lives with her husband Mustafa's mother, who is a very sweet, kind, elderly lady who has traveled in the United Staes (she's been to the Mall of America!) and Canada and speaks good English. She is generous and welcoming but above all she is an extremely excellent cook.  

Mona's Mother-in-Law

In America, lunch can be sort of a throw-away meal. Children are taught from a young age that "breakfast is the most important meal of the day" and classic American values preach the importance of family "dinner." School lunches are notoriously inedible and the lunch period in schools is growing shorter and shorter with each consecutive budget cut. In middle school, my lunch break was 15 minutes to eat and 15 minutes to run around outside. From this rushed experience, I came away with two things: 1. Eat fast. 2. Lunch isn't important. I'm pretty sure the Egyptians would beg to differ. With regards to my first lesson, nothing in Egypt happens fast. You know the joke "Never do today what you can put off until tomorrow"? I'm pretty sure that is the national motto of this country. Meals (along with most things) are taken leisurely. The day doesn't usually start until about 10 am. A result of this long, drawn out day is that lunch, the meal to refuel in the middle, is taken very seriously. Often eaten around 3:00 in the afternoon, it seems to be widely considered the most important and significant meal of the day. If you don't believe me, take a look at the spread prepared for lunch at Mona's house:

A whole chicken, potatoes, shaved beef, minced meat with phyllo, rice, salad, bulgar soup, pickled vegetables, and for desert, a sweet potato confection.

There was enough food to feed the Egyptian army. And in Egypt, it is customary to not only try everything, but to eat a lot of it. In the time it took me to blink, Mona and her mother-in-law had loaded my plate to the brim.

Despite my protest, this was only my first helping

The chicken was beautifully cooked with crispy, golden skin encasing juicy, tender meat. Mona's mother-in-law said she prepares it first by boiling it (creating the stock which she later uses as a base for her delicious bulgar soup) and then pops it in the oven for 10 or 15 minutes to crisp up. Voila!

Bulgar Soup

Accompanying the chicken were thin slices of deliciously seasoned meat, soft potatoes in a warm tomato stew, flaky phyllo dough layered with ground beef and onions, an enormous bowl of rice, and a number of small side dishes.

Paired with the meal was Mona's homemade pomegranate juice. It's fresh, sweet, tangy, vibrant, and utterly delicious. 

Luckily, I remembered to stop gulping it down long enough to take a picture!

Because this was clearly just not enough food, the meal was followed up with sweet potatoes, covered in a creamy béchamel sauce and baked in a pan so that the top caramelized. It is a testament to how delicious it was that I managed to eat the whole piece almost immediately after our feast. 

Mona's mother-in-law has promised to teach how to make everything and I, in turn, promise to teach you. For now, enjoy the visual feast of her cooking and the tantalizing promise of more to come. Very soon I will post about the first big meal I prepared in our apartment. It is an eggplant dish inspired by a classic Turkish preparation. There are also big plans for my first foray into jam making: an attempt at pomegranate jam! Stay tuned!

Souk Midan

Today was a really good day. In the afternoon our Amiyaa teacher (Egyptian Colloquial Arabic) decided to have class outside of the classroom. This is the same teacher I wrote about in my last post, the one who took me to get my key copied. As my classmates and I sat patiently waiting for class to begin, she swept in with a wave of infectious energy. "Yalla, yalla binat!" she called to us (Let's go, let's go girls!). We left the cold, totalitarian rooms of the language center and set out in the direction of the sea. Upon arriving on the Corniche, the long highway which runs alongside the Mediterranean from one end of Alexandria to the other, we were greeted by the fresh salt air in our hair and the ocean breeze reminding us that, despite the 101 degree day we had yesterday, the relief of winter weather is on its way. Our teacher walked to the side of the road and hailed a crowded minibus, something I have seen countless Egyptians do but have always been too intimidated to try myself. These minibuses, or microbuses, are really just old Volkswagon-style vans that can seat about 12 people, cost about 5 cents, and go most places along the Corniche and throughout Alexandria. To catch one, you stand on the side of the road and call out your destination to the driver as they speed by. If they have room and are heading in that direction, they slow down (but rarely come to a complete stop) to allow you to jump in. They are crowded, hot, and a little overwhelming, but they are very, really, and truly Egyptian.

Our adventure was only just beginning. Calling to the driver to pull over, we were deposited on the side of the road right across from a small ice cream shop. We sat with our teacher, Rawhia, and ate Egyptian ice cream and spoke Egyptian Arabic. I felt more connected to the culture than I have for a long time. Egyptian ice cream is closer to gelato than American ice cream in that it seems to feature more ice than cream. But Egyptian ice cream has a unique texture, a kind of chewiness that creates a whole new sensation in the mouth. Your teeth and tongue meet a sort of resistance as they try to melt the sticky sweet substance. It's not bad, but it takes some getting used to and I still think I prefer American ice cream. But then again, so do most Egyptians; they seem to have a strange obsession with Baskin Robbins.

My wonderful teacher, Rawhia

After our sweet treat, Rawhia took us to the Abu al-Abbas al-Mursi mosque, which was one of the most beautiful mosques I have ever seen. An imposing figure in the skyline, it is intricately decorated both inside and out. Towering minarets and arching domes make it look like something straight out of the time of the Prophet. It was breathtaking architecture and design, but the religious emotion it is meant to instill was a bit lost on me. After the mosque we took a stroll down the street and stopped for some mango juice. It wasn't nearly as good as El Qobesi, but it was still pretty damn good. When my friend inquired about the possibility of purchasing a mango, tempted I'm sure by the pile of ripe fruit calling us in front of the juice shop, my teacher asked if we wanted to go to the biggest souk, or market, in Alexandria, that happened to be just around the corner. We replied with an enthusiastic affirmative. I was excited that I would have something new to share with you all that finally related to food again!

The energy and experience of an Egyptian souk is hard to describe and even harder to capture in pictures. But I will do my best:

The first sensation that hits you as you step onto the uneven, potholed street that is occupied by the souk is, admittedly, not a very pleasant one. The pungent smell of fish hits you full on in the face. Now, I love seafood. I love it raw, fried, grilled, baked, and just about any way you can think prepare it. But I have never overcome my urge to gag when I am confronted by a strong whiff of newly dead fish. 

Tuna

And Souk Midan? Filled with 'em.

Sardines

Oh yeah, did I mention there were some not-even-quite-dead-yet ones too?

Still breathing, albeit laboriously

But the souk is not just fish stands and before too long your nose adjusts to the smell of fish and begins picking up the other colorful fragrances of the crowded market. And crowded it is! A narrow street to begin with, the midan is lined on both sides by table after table, cart after cart, kiosk after kiosk of an incredible array of goods. All for prices that would allow the Little Matchgirl to live like a queen. That tuna pictured above? That little plaque says 10. It means 10 Egyptian pounds. Which means roughly 2 American dollars. Per kilo. Plus, the Little Matchgirl would have a hard time freezing to death in Egypt. Too bad Hans Christian Anderson wasn't Egyptian; how different her fate might have been.

The colors of the souk are vivid enough to blind you. Everywhere you look piles of vibrant fruits and vegetables create huge splotches of color along the street.

The fruits and vegetables aren't just colorful. They're fresh, fragrant, and sometimes they look so succulent you can't resist buying them. These pomegranates were practically singing a siren song to me:

Less than $1 per kilo

But fear not, oh carnivores among you. The pescatarians and vegetarians are not the only diets catered to at this fabulous souk. Huge cuts of meat can be seen hanging from meat hooks that look straight out of Texas Chainsaw Massacre. 

The meat has its own contribution to the colors and scents of the market place. The blood red intestines of a cow,  ornamented by hibiscus flowers and a smoking bowl of fragrant incense, 

the ivory white-pink gleam of a plucked chicken, surrounded by the flashy yellow of lemons, the eye catching green of raw okra, the startling orange of dried apricots and fresh persimmons,

and, of course, the extensive offerings of pigs feet, something that still looks like something out of an ancient sacrificial ritual to my American eyes.

There are huge grain sacks filled to the brim with wheats, barleys, pastas, and spices tempting me to plunge my hand in to feel that tickling sensation of thousands of little particles rubbing against my palms. 

I'm also tempted to buy these grains and spices and even more so when I walk next door to see the possibilities they can offer when paired with butter, sugar, water, yeast, sesame seeds, and an assortment of fillings. 

Further proof of the power of these grains is presented when a man passes right beside me carrying a huge tray piled with small baskets of hot, sweet, deep fried dough balls sprinkled with powdered sugar (a common Egyptian street food). 

Another man carries his wares; swathed in ropes supporting his heavy contraption, he is a walking, talking juice stand. But Americans, and other foreign visitors, without "community immunity" must be careful with these kinds of offerings. 

All five of your senses reach a state of heightened stimulation in this environment. Your nose is bombarded by the scent of animal carcasses, fruit fragrance, and the thickly sweet smoke of incense. Your eyes explore a kaleidoscope of colors. The air is loud with the hustle and bustle of people, the calls and shouts of the shop owners and street vendors, and, at certain parts of the day, the amplified call to prayer that rings out all over the city. The possibilities of flavors for your mouth to explore are endless. And you feel the presence of hundreds of Egyptians crowding you, the touch of the smooth pomegranates as you search for the perfect one, and occasionally the soft brush of a stray cat at your ankles.  

Returning to my dorms after this adventure, exhausted and exhilarated by the excursion, I was met with some very good news. Our program directors have heard our complaints about our living situation and, after much campaigning and protesting on our parts, Dr. Mohammad (our resident director here in Egypt) is coming to Alexandria tomorrow to discuss alternative housing options for the remainder of the semester. I don't know for sure what this means yet, but we are all hoping to move out of the dorms and into apartments in the near future. This is an exciting prospect for many reasons, but for all of you the biggest reason is that this would mean we would be cooking our own meals. I had originally thought my second semester of blogging would be devoted to my own exploits in the Egyptian kitchen, but it looks like I might get a head start. Good thing too, I'm not sure I have the will power to stay away from Souk Midan and to keep my hands off the fresh fish and meats, ripe fruits and vegetables, and scrumptious baked goods. Who knows, maybe I'll even tackle the pig's feet. Not likely though.

Egyptians and Siwans

Egyptians, especially the men, can be very cruel. Everyday I have to face a barrage of harassment beginning from the moment I step out of my dorm and continuing to the moment I return home. Their behavior has at times shocked and disgusted me. The girls in my group have been catcalled, groped, insulted, followed and a good many other even more vile things since our arrival in this country. We were warned of it before we came, but nothing can prepare you for the reality of it. According to a study by the Egyptian Center for Women's Rights, 98% of foreign women in Egypt report being sexually harassed on a daily basis. But it is not limited to foreigners, as 60% of Egyptian women say the same thing. 60% of men also admit to having harassed a woman. It is a constant struggle to be a woman in this country, especially a Western, white woman. I have never lived in a place where I am a minority and the experience has truly given me a new perspective on race relations and issues of gender in Islam and in the world as a whole. My brain is too jumbled and my emotions too high for me to really sort through everything I am thinking and feeling, but something very significant is brewing in my mind.

That said, there have been many times when I have been truly overwhelmed by the kindness and generosity of the people in this country. The majority of Egyptians that I interact with (not the ones I pass on the street or in a shop, but the ones I deal with on a day-to-day basis) have been some of the most welcoming and friendly people I have ever met. For example, today I had plans to go have a copy of my room key made after class. In my Egyptian colloquial class this afternoon, I asked my teacher how I could go about asking for this service. Not only did she tell me the proper way to ask to have something copied, but she found out where the nearest key shop was and then proceeded to walk with me there after class and pay for the copies herself! Granted, the cost was less than a dollar, but that is not the point. The point is that she went significantly out of her way to help me and to make sure I wasn't ripped off or unable to communicate what I needed. As we were leaving the shop, in the midst of my enthusiastic appreciation, she assured me that she would help me with anything I needed, gave me her cell phone number, and instructed me to call anytime in the day or night if I had a problem or a question.

I have another example of Egyptian hospitality and it leads beautifully into the story of my trip to Siwa. Siwa is a fascinating anomaly in the western region of Egypt. It is a desert town with an abundance of natural hot and cold springs, it is populated by Arabs who don't speak Arabic, and the Siwans do not pride themselves and the history and tradition of Pharaonic Egypt, but on a much older, more traditional Berber culture. The oldest human footprint was discovered here a few years ago, it is believed to date back over 3 million years. The dialect spoken is a Berber one, influenced by Egyptian Arabic. To me, it sounded a bit like how Arabic would sound if one were speaking with a mouth full of marbles.We took a trip out to the desert and after a ten minute drive were surrounded on all sides by the rolling, curving, golden gleam of thousands of sand dunes.

That black spot is me, just to give a little perspective

Our (crazy) dirver Hassan and a spectacular backdrop

Ten minutes drive further into the desert and we were enjoying a refreshing dip in a natural cold spring. The water was so clear and you could see all the little fish swimming around you when you went in. If anyone can explain to me how on earth there came to be fish in this isolated pond in the middle of the desert, I would be much obliged.

And two minutes further into the wide expanse of sand, a small natural hot spring appeared into view. With a strong smell of sulfer, the water was warmer than bath water and equally relaxing. In the center of the pool you can feel the spot where the hot water is rising out of the earth to fill the enclosure. The knowledge that the water is being heated by the powerful forces beneath the earth's surface adds a whole different element to the experience.

A few more hours, some ancient fossils, and one beautiful sunset later, we returned to town, exhausted but exhilarated by the incredible experience.

The town of Siwa is very small, with just one or two restaurants, a few street food vendors, an abundance of fruit stands, and shops offering local crafts, clothing, and jewelry.

But I haven't told you about the best part of the weekend yet. And you are probably wondering how all this relates to the first part of my post. Let me show you the two biggest reasons our weekend trip to Siwa was so incredible:

Mustafa

Mona

The two people pictured above are named Mustafa and Mona and they are husband and wife. Mustafa owns a fantastic little coffee shop in Siwa (creatively named Mustafa's Coffee Shop) which serves incredible crepes, smooth shisha, and delicious juice, including a killer drink called Red Sky that consists of mango and pomegranate juice (speckled with ripe, juicy pomegranate kernels throughout). Mona is an artist in Alexandria (you can see her sketching in the photo) whose work is well recognized (she has pieces in museums and galleries throughout Africa and parts of Europe) and absolutely spectacular. She seems particularly drawn to the female form and many of the pictures she showed us of her work featured it. She does mostly sculpture and she had a wide range, from small, intricate pieces done in stone and metals to huge 5 meter tall figures done in clay and other materials. Her talent is truly impressive. We met them on our first night in Siwa after walking into the coffee shop quite accidentally. We got to talking with the couple and their friends and really hit it off. I think the best way to describe them would be "Egyptian hippies." Soon they had invited us to go out into the desert for a midnight dip in a hot spring. Who could possibly say no to that? The rest of the weekend they really took care of us; giving us free food, free drinks, free shisha, and even a mix CD of Arabic music. They were so incredibly kind and warm and welcoming and Mustafa assured us that we had a friend in him anytime we came back to Siwa. Mona took the bus back to Alexandria with us and before going our separate ways in Alex, we exchanged numbers with Mona with promises of meetings in the near future. She wants to cook for us, introduce us to her mother-in-law (who she lives with), and have us sit in on some of the art classes she teaches at the University. I think she really meant it.

So, despite the hardships I face as a Western woman in Egypt, I have met some truly beautiful people here and have often been greeted with tremendous hospitality and treated with unimaginable kindness. I want to love the Egyptian people and for the most part, I do. But the misogynist, patriarchal system and the perverse sexual tension of the society, not to mention the hostility that is felt by many towards foreigners, makes it hard to ever truly be comfortable in this environment.

One last thing, I realized that I had been asking everyone to leave comments but the settings on the blog required you to be a registered user in order to comment. What a pain! So I have changed the comment setting and, insha'allah, anyone should be able to comment now. Give it a try!

King of Mango

Our living situation here in Alex can really get me down. We are paying an exorbitant fee to live in less than ideal conditions, in a building that functions like a prison, run by women who consider us second class and judge our every move, and, to top it off, our peers in Cairo are living in beautiful, enormous apartments (and are paying the same price). Day to day life here is so much more stressful than at home and most days all you want is to be able to go somewhere you feel comfortable and at home. The dorm is not that place. More often, I find myself needing to get away from the dorms in order to feel any flicker of hope about the year I will be spending here. 

Luckily, there are a few places around the city that offer an excellent escape at times like these. Obviously the library is one. Another place, a cafe called Silsilla, was an excellent option because of its close proximity to the dorm, beautiful location right on the beach, good beverage options, and, when we arrived, its variety of shisha. However, a couple of weeks ago, the governor of Alexandria decided to take a drastic step to "clean up the city." If you have spent any time in this city, some possibilities for this project might come to mind: placing garbage cans around the city for example or hiring clean up crews to clean the streets and sidewalks or paint and maintain the many crumbling, decrepit buildings. Or perhaps an effort to do something about the hundreds of thousands of starving, stray cats roaming the streets or the pollution that hangs in the air some mornings like a thick cloud. But no, the governor decided, to everyone's shock and confusion, to ban the smoking of shisha throughout the city. 

If anyone has spent even an hour in any Arab city, they are bound to know the integral role this tradition plays in daily life. Walking down the street, the sidewalks are always filled with elderly men chatting, sipping coffee, and puffing away on black (and sometimes flavored) tobacco in tall water pipes. For most Egyptians, this small pleasure is the only indulgence they can afford and is as much a part of the culture as beer and pizza in America. Walking down the corniche now, small "ahwas" (the local name for cafes) that used to be bustling with activity at all times of the day, are deserted. There are still places in the city that serve shisha, especially after 10 pm when the officers have stopped checking, but the ban is mostly being observed, largely eliminating that earthly pleasure and source of stress relief. 

Fortunately, there is still one excellent pastime in Alexandria that is both legal and much more healthy. Drinking juice! I'm not talking about the thin, flavorless, overly sweetened American kind of juice. I am talking about juice that taste like an entire pint of strawberries has been liquified into a glass. Juice so thick that straws are rendered useless, the pulp and seeds of kiwi sticking to the inside of the white plastic tube. Mango juice served with a fork. 

Mmmmmmm

Cheers for the King of Mango!

The pictures above were taken at a little juice stand called El Qobesi. The front of the store certainly seems appropriate for the self-appointed "King of Mango." Literally hundreds of mangos are piled in every nook and cranny of the small store. Huge bags of them hang in rows from the ceiling. Crates upon crates rest of the floor. There is no doubt the name fits in terms of quantity. But what about quality?

I am here to tell you that I am now a loyal subject in the Kingdom of El Qobesi Mango juice. Served in a mug (oddly labeled "the official beer mug of the third millenium" on the bottom), the juice is too thick for a straw. It comes instead with a fork, to allow you to scoop out the large slices of fresh mango that fill the glass. The juice is sweeter than candy, but it also has that sharp tang that comes with the ripest of mangos. When the cold, pulpy juice first enters your mouth, you can feel your tongue tingle and your taste buds stand at attention. Each sip is a little taste of heaven. I like to save at least one big piece of mango for the end. The bottom of glass is a sorry sight indeed. 

Other juices are offered and they are good, but the "Mango Pieces" is the real star. 

the menu

Fruit Salad (mango/strawberry in the background)

Since I mentioned it in my last post, I will briefly mention the opera I saw last week. Although the music and the performance itself was nothing to write home about (har har), visually it was absolutely stunning. Definitely worth the $6 ticket and even the excessive drawn-out-ness of the performance (4 intermissions? Really?). Below are two of my favorite pictures from the evening. Hard to believe, but yes, that is the real pyramid and the real sphinx in the background. Pretty surreal.

This weekend my friend Lauren and I are going to take a bus out to the Siwa Oasis in the Western Dessert. I'm pretty excited about the chance to get away for a few days and we have both heard amazing things about this place. I will dedicate a post to it when I return, but I'm not sure I'll have time to post again before that. In the meantime, I'd love to hear feedback from everyone reading. This is my first time with this whole blogging thing and if there is something you particularly like or dislike it'd be cool to know. Also, if there is anything you want to hear more (or less) about let me know that too. Thanks for reading!