BLOG YOUR HEARTS OUT

Turkey is no youtube land but this is outrageous:

Fellow SOAS-ian and pioneer of Persian blogging receives 19.5 years in prison:

http://www.iranhumanrights.org/2010/09/iranian-blogger-hossein-derakhshan-receives-19-5-years-in-prison/

Yemen Win

Back in college there was a Fulbright Scholar from Oman who was the TA for my Arabic class. I remember this guy very clearly because he smelled really, really good. Like a weird mixture of incense and musky wood. I've come across that smell a few times since, and it's always on men from Oman or Yemen. Weird... yes. Awesome? Definitely.
When I went to the Mugamma to pick up my passport, it was heatstroke weather outside, as always, so I decided to wait in the marginally less hot corridors of the Immigration department. Suddenly I smell something familiar. Wood. Incense. Hermes Terre d'homme. Whatever. I'm thinking to myself... "Smells like Yemenis!" I lift my head and there are two Yemeni men on my right, two on my left. Smelling really good. It was like a gust of relief came to save me from all the sweaty grossness of that crowded hall. I spent all afternoon being puzzled about how they all manage to smell like that, until I saw a snippet of Egyptian TV that showed me how. It's a spritz of perfumed oil behind each ear, followed by absorbing incense smoke under and around the robes and headdress. Whatever they do, that shit lingers. Must patent.

The USSR's curse on Egypt

You know how countries give presents to each other, like France giving the Statue of Liberty to the US, or Norway giving the UK the Trafalgar Square Christmas Tree? Well, the USSR gave Egypt the Mugamma, the ugliest building of all. It's not much better inside, because it's where bureaucratic efficiency goes to die.

Yesterday I had a little day trip there to get my visa renewed. On arrival, I went straight to the second floor, passports, photocopies of initial and entry visa pages, and mini-photographs in hand. Of course I went to the window that said "non-Arab nations tourist visa" i.e., exactly what I needed. Of course it wasn't the right place to be. I waited in line while people thrust their passports around me, over my head, under my arms, in front of my face, etc. to get to the window first. India schooled me in the art of steely elbows, so I managed to retain my spot, only to be told that I needed to see a Mr. Hytham. 3 dudes later, I found the security table, ill-equipped to process the tens of refugees, immigrants, students, and tourists pouring in from all corners. I was ushered to one window, P to another (Poles have to get security clearance), and after handing in a completed form I was sent to another window to get stamps and bring them back. In theory, fairly straightforward, in practice, everything that could possibly complicate the process is done. The person who processes the (paper) applications puts 4 different stamps on each one - we're talking postage stamps here - when it would be so simple to use one. Or a sticker. Or a printer. Or an actual ink stamp!

My application miraculously took only 2 hours, but then I had to go back today and wait for-EVER. The plastic chairs weren't conducive to napping, so I just sat back and watched everyone. There really were people from everywhere - from Lebanese with Bangladeshi passports to Turkish women studying Shari'a at an Egyptian university and Filipina domestic workers. The process was easy for me, but I shudder to think of what it's like for refugees in limbo, always dealing with paperwork and legalities, with residence laws that change from one place to another, constant uncertainty, and the challenge of being forced involuntarily into a new environment.

Ordering food

So Cairo has an amazing food delivery service. Or should I say HAD. Otlob.com was the bee's knees about 4 years ago, particularly because of the bomb brazilian restaurant O Negrao which has, to my chagrin, since closed. The service is now spotty and orders often get cancelled... but sometimes I still need my food-fixes. (For the record Yemeksepeti of Istanbul beats out Otlob and GrubHub as best food delivery site) Par example, I was craving some sweet stuff. I ate a bunch of dates but it didn't really satisfy me so I bought a box of Egyptian brownie mix, and it was AWFUL. Then I made brownies from scratch, and was happy. Anyway, today P wanted some sushi, so we ordered from Otlob and had to wait forever until we finally found out the order was cancelled (twice). This is my chat with online customer service:

PTO:
i have no order status on my food. whats up with that?

Welcome PTO! Your request has been directed to the Otlob.Com Customer Service department. Please wait for our operator to answer your call.

Call accepted by operator Otlob. Currently in room: Otlob, PTO.

Otlob:
Hello MIss PTO
Otlob:
Welcome to otlob.com
Otlob:
This is Talal from Otlob customer service team
Otlob:
Can you kindly give me your order number?
PTO:
one sec
PTO:
5431789
PTO:
i'm really hungry!
Otlob:
Can you kindly hold on with me till we check please?
Otlob:
we are trying to reach the restaurant but it's no answer there
Otlob:
and we are not able to reached you as your mobile was switched off
Otlob:
would you like to try again with them ?
PTO:
yes i would but i already ordered twice
PTO:
my number is ******
PTO:
im super hungry and don't know where to get my food from now
Otlob:
well miss we will try to reach them for another 5 minutes and we will call you back if we couldn't reach them
Otlob:
if you would like to place another order from anywhere else we are at your service
PTO:
ok so is the restaurant closed?
PTO:
or can you just not reach them
Otlob:
we are not able to reach them
Otlob:
it's no answer there
PTO:
ok
PTO:
could you please let me know if bob sushi is open?
Otlob:
Can you kindly hold on with me till we check please?
PTO:
nevermind I just ordered from Bob. Hopefully they will deliver asap
PTO:
I'm really hungry!
PTO:
my order status on the order from sheboya never changed
Otlob:
well miss your order has been routed successfully
PTO:
great. my stomach will appreciate it

(Otlob calls me on the phone and tells me that the price on my order has changed in the last minute. I tell them politely that I'm not thrilled with their service. I get a lot of ssorry's and bleases.)

PTO:
please let your manager know about my complaints
Otlob:
and we will forward your complaint to otlob management and the restaurant management so that they can take it into their consideration.
Otlob:
We are so sorry sir for this problem, and we promise we will do our best to make sure that such problems not to be repeated again in the future
PTO:
i think you meant miss
Otlob:
Your comments help us improve
Otlob:
It is pleasure to serve you
PTO:
great. thanks for your help.
Otlob:
You are most welcome anytime and thank you for using Otlob.com
Otlob:
We are always at your service anytime Miss

My food is finally on the way. Insha'allah it will arrive any minute now!!

Getting dem shower pipes: Made in China

Our landlord isn't the most helpful guy on the planet, and has yet to deliver on many of his promises, one of them being bathroom repairs. Today our shower set-up broke. P and I went out in search of a new pipe and shower head, and took the old one with us, since I had no idea what the arabic word was. We went round the corner to the convenience store we frequent - there are three in a row, and they all sell pretty much the same thing, but we always buy our water from the same guy, and he's always happy to see us. After a little game of pointing and a few words of broken arabic, he gave us directions to a shop called "subbak." We walked a couple of minute and nearly missed what was pretty much a locked cabinet on the side of the street, full of pipes, hoses and shower heads. No one was in sight so we kept walking. We asked at a couple more shops but found nothing, but then came upon a gift store with a photocopy service outside (exactly what it sounds like - a copy machine on the sidewalk!) who pointed us to the next "subbak." We walked through a few more alleyways until some lady called out at us, grabbed me by the hand, and unlocked a door in the wall to reveal a whole panel of shower heads. She proceeded to wax eloquent about the Turkish and Chinese-made ones, and $5 later we were all set. I later found out that "subbak" means plumber...

So goes life in Cairo, slowly but surely, with our vocabulary increasing daily. People in our hood still aren't quite used to us. P is as white as they get, and it doesn't help that we're a mixed couple. It always goes like this in a shop we haven't been to before (in Arabic)
Guy: (Looking at P curiously) Where are you from?
Me: He's from Polanda. Bolanda.
Guy: (Huge grin) Ahh!! Holanda, holanda! Football! Good team!
Me: No... no.. Bolanda.
Guy: (Mildly disappointed) Oh... BOLANDAAA. (To me) Are you Egyptian?
Me: No. I'm from India.
Guy: Yes yes! Amitabh Bachchan! Very nice country!

I was wearing a long tunic I picked up in India (sooo useful in Egybt). I guess it had kind of an ethnic print on it... but it elicited a couple of ni-haos from some young girls on the street. There's a first for everything!

We also found a Kushary joint quite close to us: a full meal for 2LE (35 cents!). Giant win!

Unempty sidewalks

Last night was our first night in the new flat. Of course, like almost every other flat we saw in Cairo, it has chandeliers and looks like it walked out of the 70's.
We woke up starving and went on a food mission, having decided that the baladi supermarket is a cheaper and better bet than the fancy C-mart across the way. While buying some limes from a toothy old guy with a giant prayer bump, we noticed a shop that sold eggs. Not various types of eggs or different kinds of eggs, just one kind of egg. An egg shop. We stood still for a moment among all the beeps and screeches and donkey carts and sooty children running about and just marvelled at it. I'm personally delighted by this and plan to be overzealous in making all kinds of egg breakfasts now.

I'm in love with this neighbourhood. It reminds me of the market streets in the town I grew up in in India. The tailor spins away, old luggage stacked up next to him, while the apprentice at the male coiffeur next door sprawls out alone in the salon on a barbers chair. The faded photo studio with portraits taken in the 90's pinned up outside lies next to a laundry operation; if you peer carefully you can see dark hands moving a heavy old iron on white sheets, the kind that's just a black block of metal with but one switch. The sidewalks give birth as easily to movement as stillness: the photo shop owner sits lazily on a stool far too small for him, cigarette dangling out of one hand, belly drooping over his thighs, the tailors work spills out on to the pavement, three men stand outside yelling into the laundry, one has a leisurely conversation with a man on a rooftop above him, dogs, cats and children dart in between everyone. The dust settles and is swept away with dirty water and a broom made of thin sticks. P and I tiptoe over the sudsy brown muck that flows out of the inside and is left on the street, and duck into our building, hands full of groceries, limes, and a baked sweet potato from a wandering oven-cart.

Flat Hunting in Cairo: Fi Sha'a Fadya Hena?

Unfortunately I write to you from one of the few pet-friendly hotels in Cairo to have open rooms - the Lotus. I think pet friendly here means that they just don't clean your room because you have a pet in it. Glowing internet reviews about the friendliness of this place convinced us to stay, but in reality, the disagreeable porter and ancient furnishings make it a less than salubrious habitation. Even our cat is displeased. However, the bare bones room is still a good place to get to Dokki and Mohandiseen where we have been looking for flats. Maadi is a bit of an American outpost and Zamalek is similarly full of foreigners and accordingly priced flats. Mohandiseen is also an upscale neighbourhood, but there are some less posh areas there and in Dokki and Agouza, which is sandwiched between Zamalek and Mohandiseen. I didn't come to Cairo to live amongst foreigners, so we've been pretty choosy about where to rent, much to the bewilderment of our brokers, who can't understand why we would want to live in a "sha3bi" or popular area.

I originally tried to locate a flat through the listserv Cairo Scholars (now open only to those with .edu addresses) which proved to be a better bet for those looking for a flat share or individual rooms. I saw a couple of flats off the list which weren't all that, but were in supposedly nice areas (not really). So we tried a two-pronged approach - craigslist, and neighbourhood flat hunting expeditions. We managed to find three brokers off craigslist (and another contacted us off CairoScholars, but was a complete bust). Most of the listings are obscenely priced or dubious, though. The first broker was unprofessional and made us foot the bill for transport to the various flats, the second one looked like a yeti and brought his girlfriend to work with him, and the third was luckily, a decent dude.

We also walked around different areas where we wanted to live, asking the bowwabs (doormen) and corner grocery shop owners - basically anyone plugged into the neighbourhood - whether they knew of any empty flats in the area. If you can speak a little arabic, this is a good way to go, but almost all the flats you'll see are decorated Egyptian-style - i.e. major carpeting everywhere, excessive (and often tacky and bulky) furniture, grand old curtains, and so on. Brokers are more likely to have flats that may appeal to non-Egyptian sensibilities, but also more likely to overcharge for the privilege, typically half a month's rent for a 6 month to year long lease. I've heard that simsars or brokers are meant to charge the landlord only and NOT the client, but in practice most tend to double dip. For the amount of flats and effort that the last broker put in, I felt that it was worth the half month fee, but not more. Negotiate!

We saw about 20 flats all told - big flats, small flats, unoccupied flats, flats occupied by old people, tenement flats, stinky flats, tacky flats, passable flats, renewed flats.... most of them were overpriced because of the area (Mohandiseen) and some of them were just awful. We did see a couple of decent ones, mostly shown by the last broker. One of them was beautiful, but the second bedroom was unusable, and the bowwab fee was far too much. So, we've settled on a gorgeous flat at the edge of Mohandiseen and Agouza. The building doesn't have a bowwab or nice entrance and it's a 4th floor walk up, but the kitchen is the size of a living room and the living room is the size of a yoga studio. There are loads of bakeries on our street, in addition to the various 'ahwas (coffeehouses)... Sha3bi chic, innit! Plus, it's a 3 bedroom and every room has its own balcony. Tonight we meet the owner to negotiate removal of tacky furniture and all the curtains and carpeting so we can see the lovely hardwood (real! not laminate!) floors and hopefully convince her to give us a new fridge....