Looking at my last post date, I'm feeling like a cop out failure for not religiously keeping up to date with my electronic connection with the outside world. All in good reason I suppose, as over the past week I've spent less and less time glued to the computer screen trying to keep up with national and international news and emails with friends and family and more time on foot exploring the streets, making connections with new faces, and trying to become an Egyptian. Not that I want to feel less 'American' per se, but rather absorbing the culture and bridging the gap between visiting a culture and living and participating in it.
One thing I have come to realize, however naively I may have once thought one could simply "blend" into a foreign culture and land simply by speaking the language, eating the food, even practicing or understanding the religion, is that I will always be an outsider. Even before coming to Egypt, I've always been fascinated with the idea of "Otherness," and have even read quite a bit of literature from various authors on the concept and idea, i.e. being a so-called "minority" in America, "blackness," "feminism," "sexual otherness," etc. Perhaps I've always been obsessed with the Other because in reality I never have been one myself. But now the tables have turned, quite literally. Not only am I a white, light/blonde haired woman, but I am also an American. Though Egyptians are quite used to foreigners, and the English language is deeply imbedded in the infrastructure and upper classes of people, there aren't many Americans here. And when they are here, they usually travel with tourist groups, having every piece of their trips planned from travel transportation to bathroom breaks. But until your left stranded on a littered back alley between pollution stained buildings, one-eyed decrepit men staring and mumbling broken pleas in Arabic and small dirty children running about you blowing kisses and holding out their hands for food, and all you want to do is find that restaurant you told your friends you would meet up around 1am, you really haven't experienced Cairene culture.
No matter what, I will always be an Other here. Not that this is necessarily a bad thing. In fact, having learned a variety ways of dealing with this has actually enriched my experience here so far. For starters, any woman walking alone past dark on the streets of Cairo is begging attention. I rarely see an Egyptian girl by herself; rather they usually travel in packs out to swanky cafes, avoiding the vagrant wandering stares of unbathed old men and young testosterone men with sneaking eyes and dancing smiles. Otherwise, they are always with their boyfriends, brothers, or fathers. A foreign girl can walk on the street alone, and I frequently do when meeting up with friends late at night or on my way to a dinner date, etc. Foreigners do funny things here all the time, and simply because a white girl is out by herself it is not assumed she is necessarily a "sharmuta", aka prostitute. However, she will find it impossible to escape attention none the less.
I would really characterize the late night downtown Taher Square crowd as young men, dressed in tight jeans, neatly collared shirts and shiny urban shoes, hanging out, looking for the action to start. I doubt that anything ever really does happen aside from a pushing scuffle in the street or maybe a dogfight in a back alley, so when a white American girl dressed to the 9's comes strutting along unescorted, she is the new craze. Though I've learned to avoid eye contact and walk briskly in a defined direction even if I have no idea where I'm going (never look lost, they'll ALL try to "help" you) the young men will vie for a bat of an eyelid by seeing who can shout the loudest and most comical phrase in English that they know. Usually this is only "Welcome to Egypt," or "you are beautiful," or "can I help you," the knowing looks passed between groups of them can make you feel a little uncomfortable. However, I've learned to adapt to this all quite well.
A few key phrases in Arabic, sure to fend of the men, without being rude, and even keeping with the always humorous culture and feeding a few laughts:
Ana mish khuwa ghaya! (I'm not a stupid tourist)
Salaam walekum (Peace be upon you)
--and my favorite--
Rooh loom-ek! (Go to your mom!)
For some reason going to battle with the men late night at the Square has becoming a rather endearing experience for me. No longer am I intimidated or feel an inkling of being offended. I've even learned to laugh about it, and after all, isn't that really part of being Egyptian?
posted by Katie Warren @ 12:25 AM
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