Let's go back in time

But only back in time a little bit, so don't worry. The last time I made a legitimate post, it had been cooling off from a ridiculously hot day and I was heading for the Opera House. Update on the ridiculously hot status: I think I claimed it was around 105 or 106 on Sunday. Oh, no. Laurie, the anthropology professor, and her husband checked the weather at the end of the day and it had actually been 47C. If Google Converter is accurate, that's right around 116F! Holy heat stroke, Batman! That's hot!

Anyway, with the help of Lynn, Brent, Yasser, and our guide Adel, about half a dozen of us girls made our way to a nearby metro station to catch a ride to the Opera House. The walk to the station was only about three short blocks and was majorly uneventful. The metro itself was another story. Everyone discovered how much of a workout the pyramids must have been when we descended the three or four flights of stairs into the station and our knees all started screaming at us to stop. For some reason, I decided this was some sort of challenge and decided it was a good idea to take the stairs every time instead of the escalators. But, really, if I'm going to be hiking my butt up and down Mt. Sinai in a few days, I had better be able to handle a few stairs without complaint. And I only complained a little, so I counted that as a victory. To make things a little more interesting, a few of us girls & Lynn chose to take the all female car. Yes, there are train cars only for women. The only males permitted are their children and occasionally husbands, if they are in a large family of women. Some of the older women looked at us like we were a couple of odd ducks, but the girls our age seemed just as curious about us and they way we were dressed as we were about them. The women in the car seemed to represent the entire spectrum of Egyptian women. Teenage girls, fully covered but clearly expressed their own sense of fashion and not afraid of heavy-handed eye makeup. Other women dressed simply in modest cuts and colors. Still others wore the full veil, including gloves. We didn't get too many strange looks aside from some of the older women seated behind us (we were standing) that Lynn noticed. The Opera House was only one stop away so we didn't have much chance to interact with the other women other than to make eye contact and smile, which all of them returned.

By the time we made it to the Opera House and the various art galleries included there, most ticket offices were closing down. The modern art gallery would have been open for another hour, but they had begun installing a new exhibit and were closing early, so that got ixnayed almost immediately. Adel, of course, tried talking them into letting us in, but with no luck. Instead, we spent about a half an hour wondering around the courtyards surrounding the galleries and perusing the promotional fliers outside the ticket office. Turned out there would be a Spanish ballet of some kind showing on Tuesday night with tickets still available. I'm fairly certain I already mentioned the ridiculously inexpensive ticket prices. Adel got the box office phone number for us, one of the girls decided to take the lead on organizing a group to go, and we headed back out. We stopped by a statue of a woman in front of the opera house before making our way towards the Nile bridge to head to a different metro station. Both Yasser and Adel began talking with what I almost have to call reverence about this woman. I can't remember her name, but she is quite possibly the most famous singer in the Arab world. She died in the late 70s I believe, but people still talk about her concerts. They said she could start singing one song and perform it for hours and people would beg her to continue, to keep singing. Yasser couldn't remember because he was young, but Adel quickly recalled that she gave a radio concert the first Thursday of every month, and that all across the Arab speaking countries, it was practically a holiday. Everyone would drop everything to get near a radio to listen to her sing. I don't think I've ever heard of an artist with that kind of impact in the States before. Even years after her death, she clearly has an immense impact on the musical culture here.

As much as that was academically interesting, it was quite another experience to walk the extra block or two to the next farthest metro station. The bridge we crossed, the Qasr El Nile Bridge, was clearly a local hangout for young men and couples. The group of us, after about four or five of our boys caught up with us, made quite the spectacle for them. I know for a fact that I was not dressed well. It had been as hot as Hades all day, I hadn't bothered with hair or makeup, and my clothes were fit for a mosque, but for some reason I was still appealing to the Egyptian guys, as were the rest of the girls in our group. American guys at least pretend to be subtle when they're checking you out. Egyptians? Not a chance! They openly stared, turning not only their heads but their entire bodies to watch us pass. They reached out to grab our hands, actually touched a few girls' hair after they passed, and blatantly to pictures on their cell phone cameras. If they really wanted our attention, they certainly got it. But it was not the kind of attention that was going to get us to respond to, "I only live a block away!" Yeah. Someone said that. Classy fellow, right? The girls who felt particularly bothered (not me, of course, I can cold shoulder with the best of them) stepped to the outside of the sidewalk. This put them closest to the death defying Cairo traffic, but somehow they were more comfortable there than near the locals. I'm not sure what that says exactly, but it's certainly something.

We again took the women's car on the way back to the hotel. This time, a young mother made a point of pulling her maybe 3 or 4 year old son into her lap so that one of our girls could have a seat. It was such a sweet thing to see. There were actually quite a few toddlers in this car, so they were fun to interact with a little bit. Waving back at them when they pointed at us or giggled or any of the number of cute things all toddlers do, regardless of culture. Their mothers also seemed happy as we interacted with the kids, smiling and laughing too. After feeling uncomfortable out on the bridge, it was a calming, comforting change to be so silently welcomed by the women on the subway.

Sadly, that only catches me up to Sunday night. Monday was a big day with a morning in the CultNat Institute, a short trip to a papyrus gallery after lunch and then late afternoon in Old Cairo to see the Coptic religious sites. We saw the oldest synagogue in Cairo, the oldest church in Cairo (possibly the oldest in Egypt, I can't recall), along with two other churches. The biggest moment for me though, was seeing the Church of the Holy Family or the Church of the Crypt. I may not be a very good Roman Catholic, but I couldn't help but be moved just standing in that church. If the history's accurate, this church was built over the site where the Holy Family hid for three months or more when they fled to Egypt so the king would not kill the infant Jesus. Think about that. I was standing over land where Jesus, Mary and Joseph stayed. Jesus! My heart physically hurt to think of it. I nearly cried and probably would have let loose with the tears if the place wasn't closing for the night about 12 minutes after we walked in. So many of the kids looked so tired and worn out that I don't think any of them really took the time to think about what it meant to be there. I understand, I really do. It's a struggle to keep my eyes open at a lot of places, but just, wow. To be in such a place and not just two minutes to think about it? I dunno, I would feel like I missed out on something. We also visited one of the oldest (maybe the oldest?) mosque in Cairo. I'd never been anywhere near a mosque before so this was a very new experience. I cannot possibly express in words how peaceful and serene this place was. I'll try my best when I get around to a full post about Monday, but it's going to be difficult. Pictures will help, and those should be up tomorrow sometime as well.

Tuesday/Today was another busy, religion-filled day. We moved on to Islamic Cairo to see quite a few historic mosques. I think we saw four or five in total, along with the Citadel. Really some amazing, amazing architecture. If my friends thought the number of pictures I took in Boston was bad, then you don't want to even think about how many I've taken over the past two days. I truly may not be able to upload all of my pictures before I come home. There's just too many! The mosques, again, were moving, beautiful, peaceful places. We even were allowed to stay and watch during the noon Call to Prayer. On a different track, lunch today was as authentic as we could ever experience. We ate at this little restaurant where we advised to only order three or four items that would be "safe" for us to try. I tried kushari for the first time. I thought I loved shawerma and falafel, but kushari is another new favorite. So simple, so cheap, so filling, and so delicious. It's essentially just noodles, chickpeas, brown lentils, maybe rice and/or fried onions, and then a tomato sauce/salsa on top. I think it may have cost me $1 US. The staff at the restaurant was wonderful to us. They did so many funny little things, I'll have to save it for another post. We had our own police escort at one point as well, but I'll just leave that as a teaser.

It is super late here and we've got another amazing day planned for tomorrow. It's finally (finally!) time to hit the bazaars! These pounds have been burning a hole in my pocket and with the exchange rate and my Chinatown-honed haggling skills, I am going to come back with so much stuff that all you'll be able to do is shake your heads at my mad skills. I've already got a few specific items in mind for some of you, but for others, myself included, what comes home will all depend on what I find. And I am So excited for that!