Pee at the end of the line, please.

Today was a peculiar day, much like any other day, such as yesterday.
It started out with tragedy in the office, which I wont get into, seeing as- well- I dont feel like it.
I had to do some errands, mundane. I went to pay the phone bill in a central "Egypt Telecom" office, in the heart of downtown Cairo and that's where I noticed one striking peculiaritiy. Lo and behold, we have developed, sexually segregated lines. What the hell? Thought I. There were actually two windows, one said "women" and one said "men" I wondered if I was going to pay my bill at the end of line or strip down and take a pee on the counter.
When did this become normal protocol, wondered I. and why? I wonder if this was a real decision made by the highest telecommunications authorities or whether it was just one of those loopholes where a mid-level employee sees the opportunity to take an initiative and can identify only one problem: unisex lines. the horror. I really hate it when people take protocol into their own hands, it happens way too often in this country and its always related to boy-girl proximity, pathetically enough. Receptionists in hotels who refuse to check in mixed gender groups even in DIFFERENT rooms. What dicks. . I've seen some spontaneous sexually seperated lines form in the metro when it gets crowded- people just feel more comfortable rubbing up on the same sex in those circumstances, that I can understand. But why are we spurting out signs to prohibit inter-genital queues now? And FYI the place was totally deserted. So when this thing spreads like cancer, in the railway stations and the mogamaa' and the airports, you can say the diva said it first!

The Arab First Ladies

One of my favourite, and most perceptive, moments, was came in a previous post
wherein I concluded that, (unlike a theory related to the first ladies of the West), the first ladies of the Arab and Muslim world are consistently, conspicuosly, and curiously HOT. After honoring the luciousness of the Egyptian Suzie and Khadija, Jordan's Rania and Syrian Asma, it is with great pleasure and joy that I had to the mix of mozzaz Her Highness, Sheikha Mozza. (I didnt actually notice the pun till I finished typing that sentence). Sheikha Mozza, in the heart stopping white suit, is simply, bangin'- she floats with men around her like she conjured them into existence on a whim.


And just like any other picturesque sight to lay your eyes on, one glimpse is not enough. It wasnt enough for me at least. Going through Sheikha Mozza's pictures makes me proud to succumb to my overwhelming admiration of damn good taste.

Chew your qat quietly, please.

One Lebanese newspaper got it right when they caught the Yemenis, dreaming of Saudi Arabia. What a nightmarish thought, you say? Well, yes, apparently, the Yemenis are really exceeding themselves in the pursuit of being all around nightmarish people. Their latest acheivement being the election of a full fledged "promotion of virtue and prevention of vice committee" a la Saudi Arabia, complete with a police force and everything! Some of you might be more familiar with the concept as "النهى عن المنكر والامر بالمعروف"- but give anyone such unabated moral authority and watch them run around beating people to death for having alcohol, or forcing them to be burned in a school fire because they weren't dressed appropriately enough to be saved.

To know more about the Saudi religious police force (as opposed to all the raging secularism going on over there) check out the blog "Religious Policeman" dedicated to the lives of the schoolgirls who were lost in that fire.

In case you had more faith in the Yemen (because, of course, they are known for their triumphs in every field, particulary social justice) just take a looksie at what the committee has had to say already : "God intended women to be beautiful, and men to be attracted to women...if women reveal their beauty, men will be seduced and extramarital sex will occur. This will result in sexual chaos."

Not really sure what sexual chaos entails, but im sure Yemen already has it.

Also, they have vowed to disable all institutions which "wave war against God" like bars. Oh well, guess those crazy club hopping Sana'a nights are over.

Dear lord, I hope this disease isnt contagious.

Living My Life like its Golden

but its been tough. since ive started work, 7 months ago, ive seen and experienced egypt in a totally different way, i cant even recognize my country as i "thought" i knew it, and as i had positioned myself within it. i feel different in the street, partly because now, i am a woman, and i cant tell im seen as one, i dont look like a school girl or a colllege girl, i look different, i dress different, i speak different and i act differently, and its been strange and their have been great triumphs, because i am able now to be comfortable and confident and be everything my father has raised me, but there have been great disappointments too. These come when i ask myself, why i am so motivated, so genuine, so adamant in trying to support and care and work for a society that treats me like shit. for a society of people who call me a whore when i walk in the street or stare at my zipper on my jeans or call me "2alelt il2adab" when i tell some guy who drives up to me and my friend at 11 pm that he is a jerk. why do i give a shit? When i get whistled at, INSIDE cars, when i get looked at from up to down on my way to work when i get pushed from behind trying to buy a newspaper just so that i can read about the news of this nation? Its hard not to decide to just leave, and be free, and be relaxed, and be sexual and be normal, and just. be.
on the other hand sometimes i get these great ideas about what i have the capacity, skill, knowledge and connections to do.sometimes I have plans, schemes, entire campaigns in my head. but do i have it in my soul, and in my razor blade mind, and in my heart, and in my body, to do what it might take to realise them? I know im pretty new at all of this, and im giving it a shot i guess.
Egypt is driving me out of my mind, i believe. In taxis I look at the window into every side street, every car, every shop, every balcony, to try to understand people's lives. the specemins here are endless, the complexities unfathomable, the nuances unexamined, the variations inexplicable. Cairo is a huge, enormous city. There is so much good, and so, so, much bad and its bogged down by its own enormity and stature and the wheels that are already in motion. I read one newspaper from cover to cover, and i need to sit down. I sigh involuntarily as i turn the page. Stabbing over a game of chess. Stabbing over a loaf of bread. Are they related? Mass scandal over high school examination. Mass scandal from millionare business man. No reaction either way. Stifling, constant, passivity, its too overwhelming to react. its paralyzing.
What is my role? I am not willing to be miserable for the sake of a noble cause, I know that much. There are some absolutes I know I need. I know I need love, and companionship, and time away from the desk, and time to be creative, and time to listen to music in my room, in the dark, for hours and feel every decibel and live through it. time to exercise. i know i need my family. i know i need money. i know i need my friends. and i know i need to feel like im contributing and acquiring knowledge, but at what expense? and for what end? Personal or universal, short term or long term, bla bla bla. it doesnt stop.These are the things I cant control. So i need a little help on the things that are in my hands. sometimes.