Egyptian dating

Tonight I had my first date with an Egyptian girl, two in fact. Samah and her friend Nora met me at Groppie Cafe in Medan Talet Harb for the most interesting practice of my Arabic skills to date. Between the two of them, they have had nine years of English training but their English skills were very poor, virtually non-existent, which made null and void my conversational charm that typifies my interactions with members of the opposite sex. In all seriousness, this was a chance for me to woo these girls in Arabic, so my usual fumbling for words could be passed off as a cute foreigner struggling with a new language.
Yes, this cultural encounter truly defied all of my preconceived notions of dating from which I extrapolated a number of truths. Firstly, flirtatiousness is a universal language that transcends even the most tenuous communicative scenarios.
Nora began the conversation by quizzing me on Arabic words found in my borrowed Egyptian Arabic phrasebook but after some time the novelty of such practice wore off. And so we seemed at an impasse: I had exhausted my limited vocabulary of Ammaya (Egyptian Colloquial Arabic) and the girls began to seem frustrated with the lack of steady communication. At this moment, when it seemed this evening was about to be filed into one of the over-flowing cabinets in my brain labeled 'failed attempts', just went I thought the night was about to come to an abrupt end, I began to smile.
Truth number two: never underestimate the power of a smile.
I smiled, musing this date marked my third Friday in Cairo and I was already having dinner with two Egyptian girls. I smiled because in three weeks I have made numerous potentially lifelong friends, Egyptian, European, and American. I smiled because Egypt is beautiful and I was sitting across from two beautiful young Egyptian women. And then something wonderful happened...they smiled back.
These weren't run-of-the-mill, everyday smiles. No, They weren't even the typical Egyptian smiles, pleasant and inviting, which accompany everyone who returns your salutation. No. These smiles conveyed a feeling of contentment and happiness that, had we the words in any language, would fail description. They were filled with warmth and beauty. A truly wonderful smile is not just a few muscles in the mouth contorting to a pleasing form but rather it is a body language of infinite expression involving the entire face, eyes, and posture. These smiles spoke volumes.
And, with my confidence renewed, I switched to speaking foos'ha, a bit archaic to their ears, I'm sure, as it is not a spoken language but rather the written language for Quranic studies. It was, nonetheless, discernible to their ears and a way to further the conversation. As we continued chatting we came to the subject of religion. Perhaps they were using very simple sentence constructions to facilitate my understanding or perhaps it is just a common question but they asked “do you know Mohammad?” Being the cheeky bastard that I am, I replied in good smart-ass fashion, “I know many Muhammads” (because the name Muhammad is so prevalent, there is a common joke among Egyptians that, if you call for Muhammad down a crowded street, everyone will turn around). But after seeing their confused and disconcerted expressions they repeated the question, this time using the definite article 'the' to make their point clear (a bit redundant because Muhammad is a proper noun, definite by nature). I then, more tactfully replied, “Yes, I know the Muhammad.” They then asked if I loved Muhammad and it was here that I was really at a loss as to the proper response. On the one hand I could say yes, knowing full well that the connotation of such love conveyed a religious affiliation and I would be expected to act accordingly. (It is also of note that to the everyday Egyptian, the first reason a Westerner, especially an American, would learn Arabic is because they are a Muslim.) Yet saying I didn't love Muhammad would have brought a most certain premature end to what had thus far been a wonderful evening. So, in one of my more brilliant moments (few and far between though they may be) I reached for the Arabic phrasebook and rifled through the pages to spit out quickly “I am Christian.” In my haste to find the word I butchered the pronunciation, so I pointed to the Arabic script on the page. They let out a long “ah” of approval, then saying, “so, you love the Messiah.”
“Yes, I love the Messiah.”
Crisis averted.
The next fifteen minutes of the conversation were spent trying to decipher a phrase that I had not yet come into contact with. After much struggling I reluctantly reached again for the Arabic dictionary. They were using the future tense, with which I am not familiar. I frantically scoured the book to find their meaning. At last, the word they were using I translated to mean “next meeting.” She was asking for another date.
And the saga continues...

friend from Dahab

We left Cairo near half past nine, quite early considering my 5am return from the Omar Sharif film cast party on the Nile the night before. Following a brief shisha and tea with my Egyptian friend Tarik and Swedish friend Stefan, the three of us caught a microbus to Giza, but before delving into the minutiae of my pyramidal adventure I'd first like to share a few words about Tarik, a truly unique character. A former man of the street the face of the fifty-something Egyptian was that of leather, worn, marked by creases stretching the length of his forehead and far more defined and deep than his age would suggest. Fifteen years ago the street beggar cleaned up his act, quit drugs and drinking, the impetus for said drastic changes I suspect was a European woman he met and maybe loved. He has spoken about a Western woman who gave him the advice to extricate the 'Egyptian” sense of time from his mind. When dealing with Western tourists, always be punctual and on time, if not early. To best illustrate the concept of Egyptian time I refer to my recent lesson in Arabic noting there are no words in commonly used Ammaya or Egyptian Arabic to specify a time increment of less than five minutes. That is, there are only words for five after, ten after, one-quarter past, one-third past, ten till half past, five till half past, and so on. In addition, a time, say 5:31, is commonly referred to in Arabic either by five till half past, half past, or five after half past; there is a ten minute window of time that is, by Egyptian standards, is completely equivalent. None of these is more correct of a response than the other. With this understanding of the Egyptian notion of time one can begin to understand the magnitude of change in behavior required for an Egyptian to become punctual in the Western sense. And now Tarik is truly the most punctual Egyptian I have met in my two and a half weeks here in Cairo. To say his life has been hard would be the understatement of the decade; one look at his face and you see years of accumulated worry and struggle that many in America and elsewhere in the West could not begin to fathom. Despite his relatively small stature, the man stands tall and proud, having spent the last fifteen years off the streets, working two jobs in Dahab to pay for private lessons for his two daughters. He is still a man of meager means and even so, he refused to let Stefan and I reimburse him for the numerous coffees, teas, and shishas he has purchased for us. To accept something like this would be an act of charity in his eyes, and it is this pride in being honest, he would contend, that sets him apart from the everyday impoverished beggar. I would say in addition it is his firm belief in moral absolutism, his notion of right and wrong, that distinguishes him from people in many cultures. Albeit, he is a bit rough and sometimes crude, these are simply byproducts of having spent the majority of his life fighting for each meal. His soul is kind and his magnanimous actions reflect his truly genuine character. He treats us as friends. He treats us as Egyptians. And he makes us feel at home...
Unfortunately it is past my bedtime. Tomorrow, insha'allah (God willing), I will write about the horse ride in the desert, riding frantically from the cops, and tell of more fascinating people I have met along the way.

ya'allah

to placate the massive number of people who have been clamoring for my blogging on my end, here are a few pictures of the absolutely surreal horse ride through the desert by the pyramids. hopefully this will you all off until i have some more time tomorrow (and better internet connection) to add a couple of posts.
best,
~e