Check out this brilliant article by Yossi Sarid, printed in the Israeli newspaper, Haaretz.
Responding to the shocked and defiant reactions of most Israelis when accused of running an Apartheid state--with regards to the military occupation of the West Bank and to the blockade of Gaza--Yossi argues that Israelis shouldn't be disgusted by a word, they should be disgusted by the reality.
"What do we have to do with apartheid? Does a separation fence constitute separation? Do separate roads for Jewish settlers and Palestinians really separate? Are Palestinian enclaves between Jewish settlements Bantustans?"
"The white Afrikaners, too, had reasons for their segregation policy; they, too, felt threatened - a great evil was at their door, and they were frightened, out to defend themselves. Unfortunately, however, all good reasons for apartheid are bad reasons; apartheid always has a reason, and it never has a justification. And what acts like apartheid, is run like apartheid and harasses like apartheid, is not a duck - it is apartheid. Nor does it even solve the problem of fear: Today, everyone knows that all apartheid will inevitably reach its sorry end."
Check it out for the full article: http://www.haaretz.com/hasen/spages/977947.html
Friday, April 25, 2008
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
On Becoming a Cairene
It's happening, slowly but surely. I may never become an Egyptian, but I am definitely becoming a Cairene. And yes, that is what a person living in Cairo is called, at least its better than a Cairite. Anyways, I had the big epiphany the other day on the Metro. In the Cairo subway, you have to hold onto the ticket you buy because you will need it to exit the metro at the end, or at least thats the formal rule. In general, the Cairo metro can be pretty lax in terms of enforcing ticket rules. You see people jumping over the turnstiles about as frequently as the trains run, and no one seems to care. The other strategy is to trail someone who does have a ticket, walking closely and sneaking into their rotation of the turnstile, with or without their permission. I have had people try to do this to me, and its an up close and personal experience that I never thought I would initiate. Until last Monday.
On the long train back from the Population Council where I intern, I realized that I had lost my ticket stub. I never lose my ticket stub. I desperately searched my bag, pockets, hair, grasping for the little yellow ticket that I am always so careful to protect. After the fifth unsuccessful dig into my pocket, I accept the fact its gone for good. We reach the Sadat station, I disembark, and begin to roll over my options. I could jump, but that makes a scene. Once in a while you will see officers yelling at jumpers, threatening to pay a ridiculous fine for something that everyone does. I think about trying to go under, but with the afternoon rush I could get trampled. This leaves me the one option that I never thought I would dare to do. I select an unsuspecting younger woman and get behind her as she is about to insert her ticket into the turnstile. I sneak up real close and slide in, grabbing the bar to make sure I make it. Sliding my left hip and then my right into the space, I succeed with relative ease. My spirits sour until my unwilling cohort looks behind her and gives me the dirtiest look I have ever received. I give her a sheepish smile and then hung my head in shame. But my self-loathing was limited, as I quickly reminded myself that my criticizing hero had probably committed the same trick before. I didn't cheat the system as I had paid for my ride. I was just listening to that old proverb..When Cairo, do as the Cairenes do.
Here are some other entertaining examples of how you know you have been in Cairo too long:
1. When I was in Berlin, I found myself in a very small bathroom of a fancy cafe. There was only one sink, and some German woman was busy washing her hands. Not even thinking twice, I barged in and began to share the single stream with her. Needless to say, I quickly remembered that the Germans have a different definition of personal space than Cairenes do.
2. In Barcelona, I repeatedly said "ah ah ah" in a low tone to indicate "yes". This is how Egyptians say "yeh, yeh" or "uh huh..uh uh" to confirm. But in Spain it just sounds like you are imitating a gorilla.
3. I don't question the need to offer my taxi driver some of the peanuts that I am munching on. And he doesn't find it strange to accept my offer. Food is just tastier when you eat it together.
4. I find myself staring slackjawed at the clueless tourist wearing hot pants and halter tops in the middle of downtown Cairo. I have yet to give them a catcall or two, but after my fall from grace in the Metro, you never know what I am capable of.
5. In Cairo, you get someone's attention by hissing or making kissy noises. Seriously. Even old women do it. I can't wait to fly back to the states and start making kissing noises at the flight attendants to ask if I can have some more water.
On the long train back from the Population Council where I intern, I realized that I had lost my ticket stub. I never lose my ticket stub. I desperately searched my bag, pockets, hair, grasping for the little yellow ticket that I am always so careful to protect. After the fifth unsuccessful dig into my pocket, I accept the fact its gone for good. We reach the Sadat station, I disembark, and begin to roll over my options. I could jump, but that makes a scene. Once in a while you will see officers yelling at jumpers, threatening to pay a ridiculous fine for something that everyone does. I think about trying to go under, but with the afternoon rush I could get trampled. This leaves me the one option that I never thought I would dare to do. I select an unsuspecting younger woman and get behind her as she is about to insert her ticket into the turnstile. I sneak up real close and slide in, grabbing the bar to make sure I make it. Sliding my left hip and then my right into the space, I succeed with relative ease. My spirits sour until my unwilling cohort looks behind her and gives me the dirtiest look I have ever received. I give her a sheepish smile and then hung my head in shame. But my self-loathing was limited, as I quickly reminded myself that my criticizing hero had probably committed the same trick before. I didn't cheat the system as I had paid for my ride. I was just listening to that old proverb..When Cairo, do as the Cairenes do.
Here are some other entertaining examples of how you know you have been in Cairo too long:
1. When I was in Berlin, I found myself in a very small bathroom of a fancy cafe. There was only one sink, and some German woman was busy washing her hands. Not even thinking twice, I barged in and began to share the single stream with her. Needless to say, I quickly remembered that the Germans have a different definition of personal space than Cairenes do.
2. In Barcelona, I repeatedly said "ah ah ah" in a low tone to indicate "yes". This is how Egyptians say "yeh, yeh" or "uh huh..uh uh" to confirm. But in Spain it just sounds like you are imitating a gorilla.
3. I don't question the need to offer my taxi driver some of the peanuts that I am munching on. And he doesn't find it strange to accept my offer. Food is just tastier when you eat it together.
4. I find myself staring slackjawed at the clueless tourist wearing hot pants and halter tops in the middle of downtown Cairo. I have yet to give them a catcall or two, but after my fall from grace in the Metro, you never know what I am capable of.
5. In Cairo, you get someone's attention by hissing or making kissy noises. Seriously. Even old women do it. I can't wait to fly back to the states and start making kissing noises at the flight attendants to ask if I can have some more water.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Available Tools of an Unavailable Democracy
So a few days have passed since the strikes on Sunday, but the dust has yet to settle. Some are calling it the beginning of massive civil disobedience here in Egypt. Others saw it as a pathetic joke. Some saw it as a complete success. "In your country"-they tell me-"where there is freedom of speech and democracy, this wouldn't have been a big deal. But for us in Egypt, we have to take little steps, and so this was a big statement here." But according to others, the only thing Sunday demonstrated was the strength of the State and the weakness of the People. While the situation in Mahalla was heated--massive protests following the security's interruption of the strike--the deaths, injuries, and arrests were largely limited to this city in the Delta. There were plenty of riot police in Cairo, just not so many riots. Maybe it was because there was a poorly timed sand storm that day, but the streets really didn't seem that different from any other day. The only visible sign of civil unrest was the fact that on every street corner stood 30 police in riot gear.
My friends and I went downtown to see if there was anything going on, and while paused to make a phone call, a plain-clothed policeman came up to ask us to keep moving. I asked why, and they gestured to their uniform garbed counterparts and said it was "forbidden" to stand. We moved to a different part of the plaza, and stopped again to discuss our plan of action. Within heartbeats, another plain-clothed officer approached us and asked us to keep moving. I smileed and jokingly ask "is this okay?" and proceed to march in a circle around and around, "I'm moving, right?!" He smiles and repeated the command and I didn't push my luck. I certainly didn't care to end up in the back of the large empty police trucks that-with the lack of peacefully protesting civilians--now had plenty of room for cheeky foreigners.
There will be another strike on May 4, Mubarak's 80th birthday. It's just frustrating to witness a people attempting to use democratic tools to voice their frustrations: strikes, protests, voting (hm thats a concept), sit-ins, and other peaceful means of demanding their rights. But this government insists on crushing these tools and pulling the rug out from under the people. How long does Mubarak, and Bush for that matter, expect the Egyptian people to get no where with these peaceful tools of democracy (which are probably only effective in a democracy) before some resort to violence? I've always denounced the use of violence to achieve ones goals. But along with my denunciation, I have recognized the importance of providing people with peaceful forms of expression, or at least, allowing them to use those tools of expression which a democracy gives its citizens. Egypt is not a democracy, and therefore I know I shouldn't expect it to give its people the benefits that come with the system. But despite this, I do tip my hat to the Egyptians who are trying, no matter what the consequences, to use the tools of a democracy which doesn't even exist for them.
My friends and I went downtown to see if there was anything going on, and while paused to make a phone call, a plain-clothed policeman came up to ask us to keep moving. I asked why, and they gestured to their uniform garbed counterparts and said it was "forbidden" to stand. We moved to a different part of the plaza, and stopped again to discuss our plan of action. Within heartbeats, another plain-clothed officer approached us and asked us to keep moving. I smileed and jokingly ask "is this okay?" and proceed to march in a circle around and around, "I'm moving, right?!" He smiles and repeated the command and I didn't push my luck. I certainly didn't care to end up in the back of the large empty police trucks that-with the lack of peacefully protesting civilians--now had plenty of room for cheeky foreigners.
There will be another strike on May 4, Mubarak's 80th birthday. It's just frustrating to witness a people attempting to use democratic tools to voice their frustrations: strikes, protests, voting (hm thats a concept), sit-ins, and other peaceful means of demanding their rights. But this government insists on crushing these tools and pulling the rug out from under the people. How long does Mubarak, and Bush for that matter, expect the Egyptian people to get no where with these peaceful tools of democracy (which are probably only effective in a democracy) before some resort to violence? I've always denounced the use of violence to achieve ones goals. But along with my denunciation, I have recognized the importance of providing people with peaceful forms of expression, or at least, allowing them to use those tools of expression which a democracy gives its citizens. Egypt is not a democracy, and therefore I know I shouldn't expect it to give its people the benefits that come with the system. But despite this, I do tip my hat to the Egyptians who are trying, no matter what the consequences, to use the tools of a democracy which doesn't even exist for them.
Saturday, April 5, 2008
"Women Hold Up Half the Sky"
You can say a lot of things about communists, socialists, Bolsheviks, and Maoists, but these movements do generally get one thing right: valuing women's social and economic input. In the words of Mao Tse-Tung, "women hold up half the sky". I don't make a habit of quoting the man who left a trail of blood in the Cultural Revolution and who left millions dead in the misguided agricultural polices of the Great Leap Forward. However, I will grant that he got one thing right with this quote. Women do hold up half the sky as they make up half of the population, and society as a whole should recognize this fact.
Tomorrow, April 6, there will be massive strikes in Egypt, protesting the current economic crisis that prevents the average Egyptian from making ends meet. Originally planned by the textile mill 'Ghazl al-Mahalla, thousands of other workers have pledged to also strike in solidarity with al-Mahalla, which also happens to be the largest textile mill in the Middle East. Since the summer of 2007, the workers of al-Mahalla have been locked in a battle for their rights with the Labor Ministr. Coming at a time of increasing political instability and economic crisis, many Egyptians see their fate, and the fate of their totalitarian government, resting on the shoulders of these average workers. And here is the catch: many of these workers are women.
These female workers are not the stereotype (Western or Egyptian) of the Arab woman. They are strong, standing shoulder to shoulder with the male counterparts, demanding their rights. This overheard quote has been surfacing around Egyptian blogs, proudly displaying women's outspoken participation with the workers movement:
A Mahallah male activist describing the role of the women in the past strikes and the upcoming 6 April strike: … so these ladies…
A Mahallah female activist interrupting: Don’t call us ladies! we are workers and we are proud of it. we work in the factory, we work at home and we work in the farm, we are workers!
Women in Egypt are raising their voices, not necessarily in the specific tones of feminism, but in the united tones workers rights, for men and women. I once heard Haifa al-Kaylani, Chairman of the Arab International Women's Forum, mention "I'm not a feminist, I'm an economist." Women are half of the potential work force, half of the economic energy of a country, and currently an enormous resource which Egypt has yet to fully tap. This isn't about exploiting that resource, its about appreciating its power. The women of Mahalla, along with their brothers, can no longer be ignored. Tomorrow Egypt will see hear the voices of its workers, and will see the strength of those who hold up half the sky.
For more information see: www.arabist.net
www.arabist.net/arabawy
http://arabist.net/hatshepsut
Tomorrow, April 6, there will be massive strikes in Egypt, protesting the current economic crisis that prevents the average Egyptian from making ends meet. Originally planned by the textile mill 'Ghazl al-Mahalla, thousands of other workers have pledged to also strike in solidarity with al-Mahalla, which also happens to be the largest textile mill in the Middle East. Since the summer of 2007, the workers of al-Mahalla have been locked in a battle for their rights with the Labor Ministr. Coming at a time of increasing political instability and economic crisis, many Egyptians see their fate, and the fate of their totalitarian government, resting on the shoulders of these average workers. And here is the catch: many of these workers are women.
These female workers are not the stereotype (Western or Egyptian) of the Arab woman. They are strong, standing shoulder to shoulder with the male counterparts, demanding their rights. This overheard quote has been surfacing around Egyptian blogs, proudly displaying women's outspoken participation with the workers movement:
A Mahallah male activist describing the role of the women in the past strikes and the upcoming 6 April strike: … so these ladies…
A Mahallah female activist interrupting: Don’t call us ladies! we are workers and we are proud of it. we work in the factory, we work at home and we work in the farm, we are workers!
Women in Egypt are raising their voices, not necessarily in the specific tones of feminism, but in the united tones workers rights, for men and women. I once heard Haifa al-Kaylani, Chairman of the Arab International Women's Forum, mention "I'm not a feminist, I'm an economist." Women are half of the potential work force, half of the economic energy of a country, and currently an enormous resource which Egypt has yet to fully tap. This isn't about exploiting that resource, its about appreciating its power. The women of Mahalla, along with their brothers, can no longer be ignored. Tomorrow Egypt will see hear the voices of its workers, and will see the strength of those who hold up half the sky.
For more information see: www.arabist.net
www.arabist.net/arabawy
http://arabist.net/hatshepsut
Friday, April 4, 2008
Published!
I figure since I am not established enough in life to be used to these sorts of things, its still okay for me to get really excited and tell everyone when I get published. Especially when its in a cool news forum like the Common Ground News Service, which strives to publish pieces that will unite rather than divide, and will help build inter-cultural understanding and inter-faith cooperation. SO! Here it is:
http://www.commongroundnews.org
My piece is entitled "In their shoes," and for some of my more loyal followers/blood relatives who have to keep up with my previous blogs, you might recognize this story from my old blog during my summer in the West Bank.
Happy Reading and I promise if I have the good fortune of one day being an established professional, I won't continue to brag about various publications. But seeing as that day is a long ways off, for now just be patient as the pathetic, non-accomplished 23 year old blabbers on about these somewhat exciting things in her life. Just smack me around a bit whenever you decide my bragging rights have expired.
http://www.commongroundnews.org
My piece is entitled "In their shoes," and for some of my more loyal followers/blood relatives who have to keep up with my previous blogs, you might recognize this story from my old blog during my summer in the West Bank.
Happy Reading and I promise if I have the good fortune of one day being an established professional, I won't continue to brag about various publications. But seeing as that day is a long ways off, for now just be patient as the pathetic, non-accomplished 23 year old blabbers on about these somewhat exciting things in her life. Just smack me around a bit whenever you decide my bragging rights have expired.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Sandstorm!
It was not a military operation nor is at a popular techno song, but what we we witnessed last Friday was a straight up, not kidding you, Sandstorm. We had heard they would be coming, but no one could prepare us for that day. I was going to meet a friend for a birthday party at the Hard Rock Cafe (I know, not very culturally adventurous, but they had an all you can eat beer and wings so I couldn't really blame him for his choice) and right as I stepped out the door, I knew something was in the air. That something was lots of sand. Gusts of wind were shooting the small particles everywhere, and so I put on my sunglasses even though it was dusk. Visibility was at an all time low as I headed towards the Nile, and not just because I was wearing sunglasses at 6:30 pm. The usual landmarks of hotels dotting the river were almost invisible in the yellow haze, and I had to keep my mouth shut tight lest I should get a mouthful of sandy delight. I found my way into the restaurant and congratulated myself for surviving my first, but probably not my last Sandstorm.
April is notorious for the sandstorm season, what the Egyptians call the "khamseen". This is not very comforting if you know Arabic and realize that "khamseen" means 50, as in the sandstorm season can last for FIFTY DAYS!! Here is a photo that I took of the storm approaching the outskirts of Cairo
April Fools! Thats not Cairo, thats somewhere in Sudan, and I couldn't be happier about it. But it is much more dramatic than a photo of me at the Hard Rock Cafe with dust on my sunglasses. But who knows, that could be what hits Cairo in a few days. Its starting to make a little more sense why these Arabs have a thing for scarves, isn't it funny how it all comes back to regional weather patterns? Anyways, as of yet, the sandstorm season has been pretty tame. I haven't yet woken up to my windows blown open and my bed covered in sand (heard that from a friend) nor have I had to seek refuge in Auntie Em's cellar.
To keep you entertained as Pauline gets dusty, here are some fun facts about the khamseen:
1. The sandstorms blow in from the south to the northwest, in opposition to the prevailing winds.
2. About 40 million tons of dust are transported annually from the Sahara (thats my hood) to the Amazon basin (very very far away from my hood)
3. Pauline was going to make another trip out to the desert, but is currently rethinking that decision. "If sandstorms are bad in the city, lets go to where there is MORE sand to stir up...."
So.....Anyone coming to visit me this month?
see http://www.egyptsearch.com/forums/ultimatebb.cgi?ubb=get_topic;f=2;t=016087 to see where I got my fun facts and ridiculous photo.
April is notorious for the sandstorm season, what the Egyptians call the "khamseen". This is not very comforting if you know Arabic and realize that "khamseen" means 50, as in the sandstorm season can last for FIFTY DAYS!! Here is a photo that I took of the storm approaching the outskirts of Cairo
April Fools! Thats not Cairo, thats somewhere in Sudan, and I couldn't be happier about it. But it is much more dramatic than a photo of me at the Hard Rock Cafe with dust on my sunglasses. But who knows, that could be what hits Cairo in a few days. Its starting to make a little more sense why these Arabs have a thing for scarves, isn't it funny how it all comes back to regional weather patterns? Anyways, as of yet, the sandstorm season has been pretty tame. I haven't yet woken up to my windows blown open and my bed covered in sand (heard that from a friend) nor have I had to seek refuge in Auntie Em's cellar.
To keep you entertained as Pauline gets dusty, here are some fun facts about the khamseen:
1. The sandstorms blow in from the south to the northwest, in opposition to the prevailing winds.
2. About 40 million tons of dust are transported annually from the Sahara (thats my hood) to the Amazon basin (very very far away from my hood)
3. Pauline was going to make another trip out to the desert, but is currently rethinking that decision. "If sandstorms are bad in the city, lets go to where there is MORE sand to stir up...."
So.....Anyone coming to visit me this month?
see http://www.egyptsearch.com/forums/ultimatebb.cgi?ubb=get_topic;f=2;t=016087 to see where I got my fun facts and ridiculous photo.
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