Fulbright brought all the ETAs (English Teaching Assistants) from across the Middle East and North Africa to Amman, Jordan for a four-day mid-year conference. The conference itself was nice. Uncle Sam put us up in a swanky hotel, gave us some money to spend (even though all meals were covered) and, using as many euphemisms as possible, encouraged us to drink with our fellow ETAs and share stories and strategies discovered during our first semesters as professors. We also attended a semi-professional conference by day, but like most public-sector trainings I’ve encountered, this was at best a bit underwhelming, and at worst a shameful waste of money. Enough ranting: I did have fun. Fulbright even let us stick around several extra days and do touristy stuff.
One thing that struck me was the amount of history such a small country can boast. We saw remnants of civilizations spanning several millennia. A favorite was Petra. One of the new seven wonders of the world, Petra is an ancient Nabataean city carved into rocks that you may recognize from an Indiana Jones set. Also impressive were Jerrash – a well-preserved Roman city – and an Arab fort used to defend against the Crusaders in Ajlun. We waded into the Dead Sea and dipped our fingers in the Jordan River where Jesus is believed to have been baptized. We tore across the desert in a Jeep to see ancient carvings (of dubious veracity), find shards of turquoise stones (ditto), and let our vertigo trip alongside gigantic crevices that descended deeper than my eyes cared to venture. Jordan is yet another part of the Middle East/North Africa with a unique, fascinating history. I highly recommend a visit if you ever get the chance.
Nevertheless, it was nice to return to Egypt. In the short 24 hours since returning, Nick and I have experienced Cairo’s smog, argued for what felt like hours with taxi drivers about fares, nearly died in rickety cars speeding across the Nile Delta and, most importantly, reconnected with friends in Zagazig who one would swear thought we went to America for several months instead of nearby Jordan for eight days. Egypt also has an impressive history, and over the next two weeks Kathryn Nishimura – a good friend from Peace Corps – and I plan to explore as much of it as possible. Updates to come.
Monday, January 17, 2011
On Security
As today’s other entry mentions, the Fulbright ETA crew headed to Jordan last week. One salient characteristic of Jordanian society is the apt security force. When we arrived in Amman, a suspicious metallic object was placed under the visas in our passports (tracking devices?), and we had to put our eyes up to something that looked like I imagine a retina scanner would. I didn’t really think anything of it – the security was for my safety, right? – until one evening when some friends and I experienced an odd quirk in the security apparatus.
Our third night in Jordan, before joining the other Fulbrighters at a local bar, two of my best friends here (Ella and Alex) and I decided to enjoy a bottle of wine in our hotel room. Lacking a corkscrew – we hail from Egypt, after all – we called down to the front desk and a man promptly appeared to open our wine. In the interest of not mincing words, let’s just say the situation could have looked... well, sexual, especially to someone from a country where girls don’t hang out alone with boys and most people do not consume alcohol. Even in Egypt, unmarried, opposite sex couples often aren’t allowed to share hotel rooms. So the situation could have seemed odd: two guys and a girl were sitting around in a dimly lit hotel room, listening to Kanye’s 808’s and Heartbreaks album (arguably his smoothest and slowest compilation), and drinking wine. Moreover, across the Levant nicer hotels are often venues for businessmen and politicians to host escorts. Our uncorking friend could perhaps be forgiven for assuming a ménage would soon be underway.
About half an hour later, Ella looked up and said that she saw the reflection from a mirror under the door. The mirror disappeared, and by the time Ella made it to the door the hallway was empty. I hastily dismissed Ella’s analysis of the situation – why on earth would there be a mirror peeking under our doorway? – and Alex and I suggested several possible alternative explanations: someone with metallic shoes had walked past, a service cart had rolled by, etc. Ella remained insistent for a moment or two before we all internally decided not to ruin the wine/music with silly debates.
Another half hour later, Ella pointed Alex toward the door, and this time Alex also saw a rectangular object peeking underneath, reflecting light from the hallway in a concentrated beam that caught different objects around our room. Alex started walking toward the door, the light disappeared, and by the time Alex was in the hallway our sneaky friend must have absconded into the service closet, elevator, or a nearby room. There was no uncertainty in either of their minds: a mirror had been placed to allow outsiders to see into our room. Upon closer examination of the door, we discovered that the bottom inch was sawn off (haphazardly, I might add) and that, if someone wanted to they could lay down in the hallway and see into the room. There were also mirrors placed in the entryway that allowed one to see nearly the entire room from the doorway. Lacking anything to conceal, we weren’t too worried about it; nevertheless we did finish our libations quickly and left, intentionally informing as many hotel staff as possible of our departure by asking inane questions about directions and taxi fares and whatever else we could come up with. Again, it’s not that we had anything to hide: Alex and I just didn’t want anyone deciding to enter the room when the lights were turned off.
And now, the burning question in everyone’s minds: why on earth would the hotel staff care even if we were having a threesome? I still struggle to wrap my mind around it. But the frequency with which the mirror appeared (every half hour) suggests that the hotel staff could not have been merely doing a routine check of every room in the hotel. Something was wrong with our room, and that something began when our friend opened our wine. In a conservative region of the world, perhaps sinful actions like threesomes are not tolerated by the government, or at least by certain hotel staffs. I’ve heard of opposition candidates in the Middle East being blackmailed with photos and movies taken in hotel rooms, so some level of surveillance isn’t entirely uncommon. Or maybe we just had a pervert on our hands. Yet one more mystery from our time spent in this region.
Our third night in Jordan, before joining the other Fulbrighters at a local bar, two of my best friends here (Ella and Alex) and I decided to enjoy a bottle of wine in our hotel room. Lacking a corkscrew – we hail from Egypt, after all – we called down to the front desk and a man promptly appeared to open our wine. In the interest of not mincing words, let’s just say the situation could have looked... well, sexual, especially to someone from a country where girls don’t hang out alone with boys and most people do not consume alcohol. Even in Egypt, unmarried, opposite sex couples often aren’t allowed to share hotel rooms. So the situation could have seemed odd: two guys and a girl were sitting around in a dimly lit hotel room, listening to Kanye’s 808’s and Heartbreaks album (arguably his smoothest and slowest compilation), and drinking wine. Moreover, across the Levant nicer hotels are often venues for businessmen and politicians to host escorts. Our uncorking friend could perhaps be forgiven for assuming a ménage would soon be underway.
About half an hour later, Ella looked up and said that she saw the reflection from a mirror under the door. The mirror disappeared, and by the time Ella made it to the door the hallway was empty. I hastily dismissed Ella’s analysis of the situation – why on earth would there be a mirror peeking under our doorway? – and Alex and I suggested several possible alternative explanations: someone with metallic shoes had walked past, a service cart had rolled by, etc. Ella remained insistent for a moment or two before we all internally decided not to ruin the wine/music with silly debates.
Another half hour later, Ella pointed Alex toward the door, and this time Alex also saw a rectangular object peeking underneath, reflecting light from the hallway in a concentrated beam that caught different objects around our room. Alex started walking toward the door, the light disappeared, and by the time Alex was in the hallway our sneaky friend must have absconded into the service closet, elevator, or a nearby room. There was no uncertainty in either of their minds: a mirror had been placed to allow outsiders to see into our room. Upon closer examination of the door, we discovered that the bottom inch was sawn off (haphazardly, I might add) and that, if someone wanted to they could lay down in the hallway and see into the room. There were also mirrors placed in the entryway that allowed one to see nearly the entire room from the doorway. Lacking anything to conceal, we weren’t too worried about it; nevertheless we did finish our libations quickly and left, intentionally informing as many hotel staff as possible of our departure by asking inane questions about directions and taxi fares and whatever else we could come up with. Again, it’s not that we had anything to hide: Alex and I just didn’t want anyone deciding to enter the room when the lights were turned off.
And now, the burning question in everyone’s minds: why on earth would the hotel staff care even if we were having a threesome? I still struggle to wrap my mind around it. But the frequency with which the mirror appeared (every half hour) suggests that the hotel staff could not have been merely doing a routine check of every room in the hotel. Something was wrong with our room, and that something began when our friend opened our wine. In a conservative region of the world, perhaps sinful actions like threesomes are not tolerated by the government, or at least by certain hotel staffs. I’ve heard of opposition candidates in the Middle East being blackmailed with photos and movies taken in hotel rooms, so some level of surveillance isn’t entirely uncommon. Or maybe we just had a pervert on our hands. Yet one more mystery from our time spent in this region.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
On Safety
A few people have expressed concern over my safety since the church was bombed in Alexandria last weekend. I just want to take this moment to assure everyone that I’m really fine. I mean, to be honest, it was a bit rattling – we had been at a nearby church a week earlier for Christmas Eve – but I’ve also been amazed by our Egyptian friends’ reactions. They’re as horrified as we are. Here’s a decent piece in the Times that shows the outrage.
I’d like to corroborate that piece with a personal anecdote:
Tonight is Christmas Eve in the Coptic Church. A year ago there was a shooting outside a church on Christmas Day. Tensions are high. After the bombing a week ago, there were reports that the Coptic Pope was going to cancel Christmas this year. Many churches are still holding services. In an amazing show of solidarity, many of my Muslim friends here in Zagazig are going to the Christmas Eve services. It's a nation-wide movement. The assumption is that nobody will blow up a building packed with Muslims. And then Copts can still have Christmas. This inspiring act shows the extent to which Egyptians will go out of their way for others. It’s an intense example of the attitudes Nick and I have encountered in Zagazig since day 1. No, we’re not Egyptians, we’re not Muslims, and while we do our best to peter around with Arabic, we’re certainly not natives. But it really doesn’t matter. The residents of Zagazig have smothered us with genuine care. They do more than just respect our differences – they embrace them, and us. In four short months, I’ve fallen in love with this town. And we still have five wonderful months left here.
So Merry Christmas everyone. Let’s all say a quick prayer for a safe evening.
I’d like to corroborate that piece with a personal anecdote:
Tonight is Christmas Eve in the Coptic Church. A year ago there was a shooting outside a church on Christmas Day. Tensions are high. After the bombing a week ago, there were reports that the Coptic Pope was going to cancel Christmas this year. Many churches are still holding services. In an amazing show of solidarity, many of my Muslim friends here in Zagazig are going to the Christmas Eve services. It's a nation-wide movement. The assumption is that nobody will blow up a building packed with Muslims. And then Copts can still have Christmas. This inspiring act shows the extent to which Egyptians will go out of their way for others. It’s an intense example of the attitudes Nick and I have encountered in Zagazig since day 1. No, we’re not Egyptians, we’re not Muslims, and while we do our best to peter around with Arabic, we’re certainly not natives. But it really doesn’t matter. The residents of Zagazig have smothered us with genuine care. They do more than just respect our differences – they embrace them, and us. In four short months, I’ve fallen in love with this town. And we still have five wonderful months left here.
So Merry Christmas everyone. Let’s all say a quick prayer for a safe evening.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)