Wow!

Okay, I just had my bit of excitement for the day. Let me explain the set-up to you:

I was sitting in front of my usual coffee shop, playing dominoes with a friend. There was an open sewer cover in the street right in front of the coffee shop. Why was it open? I have no idea. Anyway, there was a taxi parked on the right side of the road, next to the sewer. This is a one-way, one lane road. But as I've learned in Egypt, just because it's a one lane road doesn't mean you can't have three lanes of traffic on it. Most of the traffic was going to the left of the sewer. A couple of cars were going to the right, and getting by okay. Then another car tried to go to the right of the sewer, but this one hit the taxi that was parked there. It broke the side-view mirror, and scratched the side of the taxi.

And the coffee shop ERUPTED!!

I'm not kidding, everyone in the coffee shop poured out into the street. Some of them stood in front of the guy's car so he couldn't drive away. Some others got next to the driver's side window and started slapping him in the face, and everyone else crowded around the car and started shouting. They pulled the driver out of his car and started beating him right in the middle of the street. He took a few good shots to the face and ribs before he finally managed to get away. The crowd got a hold of him again, but they didn't hit him any more. They took away his keys so he couldn't leave, then they demanded his driver's license. Turns out he didn't have a license, and the car wasn't actually his.

Both the owner of the taxi and the driver of the taxi (not the same person) were in the coffee shop. At this point they took charge and started demanding money from the guy so they could fix the car. He said he didn't have money, so they just told him to give them whatever he had in his pocket. Then the police came by and wanted to know what was going on. The crowd told the police that they had everything under control, and to go away. They actually made a wall with their bodies so that the police couldn't see what was going on, so they left.

After that, everyone got a lot calmer. They took whatever money the guy had, then started trying to fix the mirror. The guy drove off, and that was pretty much the end of it.

It was a strange experience overall. When things were starting to get crazy, I remember wondering if someone was going to call the police. But, apparently that's not what one does in Egypt. I also thought about trying to stop them when they were beating the guy, but didn't know how that would go. The crowd who was hitting him were all friends of mine, and I didn't know what would happen if I tried to get in the middle of it. They all knew me, so I didn't think anyone was going to take a swing at me. But I wondered if they would think I was betraying them by trying to stop them from beating the driver.

I still often find myself trying to figure out what the culturally acceptable reaction is here. So many things that I see and experience here are different from the way that things are done at home, and I often just don't know what to do. Some culture is just different, and some culture is wrong. One of the tricks to living overseas is figuring out which is which. The stuff that's just different, you learn to leave alone and not fight against. I had a friend tell me a while ago, "if it's not sinful, it's permissible." That doesn't necessarily mean it's good, but it's not something worth fighting over. Today I was standing on the side of the road, trying to figure out which of the two I was dealing with. It certainly looked brutal and strange to me, but does that necessarily make it wrong?

I think when I first came here a year and a half ago, I would have been much quicker to answer that question. Now, I honestly don't know.

Hey guys,

Just a few stories from yesterday. I went out a few nights ago with a deaf friend. He took me to the other side of town, and we walked around and met a bunch of his friends. We ended up sitting at a coffee shop playing dominoes with them. I was actually the only one there who could hear and speak.

Yesterday he called me several times. We've got this system worked out that when he calls me, I'm supposed to come meet him at a certain spot. So I went to visit him, and he told me that a friend had been in a car accident, and he wanted me to go visit him in the hospital. So I went along with him to the hospital to see his friend. Turns out, it was one of the guys I'd played dominoes with the other day. He'd been riding a motorcycle, waiting at a traffic circle. A car came from behind and slammed into the left handlebar of the motorcycle. His hand is a mess; broken bones and missing flesh.

I remembered the guy when I saw who it was, and he remembered me. I fumbled through what little Arabic sign language I know, then sat there, and sat there, and sat there, with his family, and friends, and the nurses. It was a really awkward moment for me, but nobody else seemed to mind. I felt like I didn't belong, but learned something about the culture I live in. Egyptian culture is a community-based culture rather than an individual-based culture (like ours). Because I came with someone who belonged, I belonged. Cool, huh?

Later in the evening I was eating dinner. I had lentils, fried potatoes and bread. (delicious meal, by the way) I was halfway through my meal when I realized something. When I come back to the States, I'm going to have the worst table-manners ever. In Egypt, it's customary to eat with your hands. I seem to remember my mother trying diligently to stop me from eating that way when I was a child. :) Also, making a lot of noise while eating here is considered an indication that you enjoy the food. Yikes! I might have to get cultured all over again when I get back home . . . Sorry, Mom :)

Okay y'all, that's it for now . . .

Next time, I order!

I know I wrote a day or two ago and said that you can get used to almost anything, but . . . I just had a meal that's made me reconsider that stance.

I met a friend for dinner tonight, and he took me to a place that I'd never been to before. I actually didn't know it was a restaurant. I thought it was just a couple of chairs in an alley. But lo and behold, it's a restaurant! He asked me what I wanted, so I just told him I'd have whatever he was having. While this approach is sure to win you friends among the locals, it can also be a very risky move.

My friend ordered something called "halawa." Up until today I thought the word halawa meant sweets. But apparently a better translation is "all the parts of the cow we don't eat in the States." Intestines, stomach, large chunks of fat . . . and that's just the parts I could identify. On the up-side, I must have an amazing immune system by now :)

Fake Cheetos and Naguib Mahfouz . . .

Hey guys,

Just thought I would share the day's events with you. I've been reading a book lately called "Children of the Alley" by Naguib Mahfouz. He's probably the most famous author in Egypt. He won the Nobel prize for literature in 1988. The book is pretty incredible. I've only got about forty pages left, and I'll actually be a little sad when I've finished the book. It's the first one of his books that I've read. But if the rest of them are anything like this one, I'm going to have to stock up the next time I go to a bookstore.

And on the lighter side, I had a healthy dinner of fake Cheetos tonight. Well, I really don't know what to call them, and cheetos is the only thing that even comes close. You'll love the list of ingredients: corn meal, oil, ketchup, salt. Yep, that's it! :) There have been a lot of foods in Egypt that have taken some getting used to. The first time I ate a lot of them I promised myself that I would never eat them again. But after a while you learn to get used to them. The fake cheetos are on that list. The first time I had them, I thought they were horrible. But tonight I actually went and bought them on purpose. What a big difference a little time makes.

I think the secret is not to compare the food to what it reminds you of. For example, if you're thinking of Cheetos, these will seem terrible. But if you just get used to the fact that you're not eating cheetos, you're just eating something else entirely, they're much more enjoyable.

All right you guys. It's time for me to trundle off to bed. Hope you're having fun . . .

Ghasbet Aani . . .

Okay, so I made a rookie mistake today and forgot a cultural lesson I learned a while ago. Random tidbit about Egyptian culture. If you admire something that belongs to someone else, they will assume that you are asking for it. Occasionally you wind up with gifts that people are honor-bound to give you, but don't really want to part with. On other occasions you wind up with pieces of junk that you don't want either.

I spent most of the evening with a friend tonight, playing dominoes and drinking tea. I noticed that he was wearing a ring that I hadn't seen him wear before. Without really thinking about it, I asked him about his new ring. He took it off and gave it to me. I tried to refuse (three times being customary) but he kept insisting. So, I'm now the proud owner of a ring which has the word "love" engraved on the side. Thankfully most of my friends don't speak any English, so I won't have to explain what it means. But wearing it does mean I'll have to explain that I'm not engaged, I'm just wearing a ring, to dozens of complete strangers each day.

Not only do I have to keep it, I also have to wear it. It would be an insult not to. Fantastic, huh? I titled this post "ghasbet Aani" because it means "against my will" in Arabic.

Great Dinner . . .

Hey guys,

My landlady called me a little earlier today and asked me where I was. Usually when she calls to ask me where I am it means her husband has lost the building key again, and she needs me to let her in. I was close to the building, so I told her I could come right over. She said not to bother, but to call her as soon as I got home. I was out with some friends, so I came home a couple hours later and gave her a call.

Just for the record, I still find it strange to have a landlady here instead of a landlord. In a culture that has such strong divisions between men and women, I find myself wondering how appropriate it is to talk to her. Anyway . . .

When I called, she told me to stay in the flat for a little while. About five minutes later, there was a knock on my door. She'd sent down one of her daughters with a tray full of food for me for dinner. It was chicken, rice, salad, some boiled potatoes, and molokhiya (leafy, green soup). It was amazing. After I finished, I took the tray back upstairs and said thanks. A few minutes later there was another knock at my door. This time it was another daughter bringing a glass of fresh strawberry juice, also delicious. When I took the glass back upstairs, a different daughter came out to take it from me.

I don't know if this is my landlady being incredibly hospitable, or part of some devious plot to marry one of her daughters off to the foreigner. Hey, if they can all cook like their mother, I just might think about it! :)

Funniest conversation of my life!

Okay guys, I've got to share this one with you.

I was having dinner tonight with some friends who work in a fish market. I was tired, so I yawned. One of my friends asked me why I covered my mouth when I yawned. I told him that in my culture it's considered impolite not to cover your mouth when you yawn. He said that Egyptians cover their mouths when they yawn also. I asked him why, and this is what he said:

"So Satan doesn't pee in your mouth."

I am not kidding! I couldn't make up something that funny if I wanted to. Had I been drinking anything at the time, I'm pretty sure it would have come out of my nose. I almost fell out of my chair laughing. I hope that little nugget brightens your day like it did mine.

Refusal

Hey guys,

Interesting story from today. I went to visit a friend today who works at a dive shop. He knows I'm a Christian and knows that Easter was a couple of days ago, so he wanted to give me a gift. It's important to be thought of as generous in this culture, so people will often give gifts that they can't afford to give. I had also just brought him a bottle of Pepsi as a gift for Sham al'Neseem (Egyptian holiday) and I think he felt like he needed to give me something. He wanted to give me spare lenses for my diving mask, which would have been quite an expensive gift. I tried to refuse several times as is the custom here, but my friend was having none of it. I finally agreed to take the lenses.

I was reluctant to take them for a couple of reasons. My friend assured me that he was going to pay for the lenses. But I know how much money he owes to various people at the moment, and I find it highly likely that he's going to pay. I think he's probably going to steal them. And even if he does decide to pay for them, he doesn't have the money to pay. He would end up even more deeply in debt than he is now. I decided that I didn't want to be a party to theft, or responsible for a friend making a poor financial decision. The longer I sat talking to him, the more uncomfortable I became. I finally decided that I had to give them back.

I explained to my friend that I couldn't accept his gift, and went on to tell him why. I explained that friends have to take care of each other, and that I would be a bad friend to him if I took his gift. We went back and forth several times, neither one willing to give in. There's a proverb in Arabic that says "even an onion from a friend is like a sheep." It basically means, "it's the thought that counts." He finally agreed to take the lenses back, but only on the condition that I take something else. I ended up taking a key chain, which I took because I think it was the cheapest thing in the store.

It was an interesting discussion with they guy. I think we both ended up having to explain parts of our culture that we both took for granted. I'd never had to work so hard to give back a gift I knew the giver couldn't afford, and he'd never had to try to convince someone to take a gift before. To refuse a gift is quite rude in this culture, so I'm interested to see what the implications are for this friendship.

I was really close to keeping them for the sake of the friendship, but I felt like it would be a moral compromise if I did. It's one of those moments where I honestly didn't know whether to respect the culture and let someone else make a bad decision, or be rude and try to speak some wisdom into the situation. Time will tell if I made the right decision or not.