I’m dissapointed to be writing under these circumstances. I said I wouldn’t be posting anymore, but there was a major disaster today in Cairo which I felt was worth sharing as I’ve visited the area that was effected several times, and well, I think it’s worth writing about.

There was a major rockslide in Mashniet Nasser, one of the slums that borders Moqqatam. The neighborhood rests against the side of the mountain, and today some natural act brough down several massive boulders which flattened large portions of the neighborhood.

While natural disasters are a part of life, it’s the response to this situation that is uniquely Egyptian and what motivated me to write about the incident.

It took six hours before members of the governments Civil Defense unit arrived with shovels and pickaxes to begin the rescue attempt. Armed police had shown up earlier, but only to prevent crowds from from getting near the boulders, they stood by and watched as the residents desperately struggled to rescue neighbors, friends and family. Heavy machinery has still not arrived to begin rescue attempts since the latest news story was filed.

This from the NYTimes:

Tempers began boiling over, because while the neighbors struggled, forming lines to pull debris away, many police officers were present but doing nothing. “You come here to sit in the shade!” a woman screamed at a group of police officers seated on the ground.

One officer said, “People are emotional; we have to keep them calm.” He refused to give his name, his rank or even his branch of the Interior Ministry. He said, “We all have our responsibilities.”

A responsibility to sit on one’s ass apparently. This incident brings to light a lot of issues within Egypt; an ineffectual government, the poverty situation, cultural laziness and reliability (often times the lack thereof), and “let things fall” mentality which seems to pervade urban and civic planning.

As the Times pointed out, just a month ago the Parliment building caught on fire, and there was little emergency response, with the result being the building burned to the ground. All across Cairo the answer to decay always seems to be, built new, built somewhere else, leave the past in the past. Perhaps this is actually an advanced intellectual position, but I have yet to buy that line of reasoning.

Politics aside, it’s strange imagining this neighborhood I often drove by at sunrise or sunset lying under boulders the size of hills. I’m not Egyptian, I’m not living there anymore, so perhaps I shouldn’t write about the political situation there. Watch the video, it’s the best attempt I can make at a “No Comment” on the situation.

Road to Siwa, Western Desert

I’ve technically posted two images that were scanned in Egypt, but I sent a few frames in this week for a proper scanning. Will add another later in the week.

Nubian River Pilot, Aswan, Upper Egypt

]]> http://notesfromcairo.wordpress.com/2008/08/26/first-of-the-film/feed/ 0 bhholmes http://notesfromcairo.wordpress.com/2008/08/25/more-from-downtown/ http://notesfromcairo.wordpress.com/2008/08/25/more-from-downtown/#comments Mon, 25 Aug 2008 18:22:34 +0000 bhholmes http://notesfromcairo.wordpress.com/?p=226 ]]>

I should have a few new images from my film work up by the end of the week.

Some snapshots from around Cairo

Maadi

In City Stars

Nile Hilton

Near Tahrir Sq

“Nature is what we do for a living, a work in progress as subject to our revision in our states of consciousness as in our nucleic acids and somatic cells.The more beautiful questions demand the more beautiful answers, and if we can learn to ask them, we stand a chance of of stearing clear of shipwreck on our jury rigged and not so distant star.”

Lewis Lapham

This will be my last post of material not yet written. I might dig up older things I’ve written to post, but from here on out I expect any posts to consist of photos.

As I’ve mentioned, I’m home now and what struck me on first arriving was how clean and quiet New York now seems. After hoofing it around Cairo by foot so often my last month, everything here seems tame in comparison. The trash is bagged and cornered in an orderly fashion; pedestrians move down the wide sidewalks with ease, obediently waiting like a herd of sheep for the traffic light to indicate it’s safe to cross the street and the cars move along with only the occasional bleat of a horn to indicate the snarled traffic.

Often times I start walking in the road to regain a sense of normalcy, sometimes crossing a busy intersection to the sound of horns blowing in an attempt to stage a small act of defiance to the order that exists.

I’ve come home to find cops hovering everywhere. They stand at street corners, the entrances to subways, in the subways along the stairs, eyeballing all the strap hangers who pass up and down, around and about on their way to work, home or play. They look suspicious, everyone here is a suspect their eyes tell me. Gone are the skinny, harmless looking rifle and machine gun toting country boys who filled Cairo’s street corners, here I find big, mean looking men ready to pounce at the slightest provocation. Kerouac once wrote about the inclination of American police to act like their job was to intimidate the public, and that of the third world policeman to just get through his day. An astute observation, and despite some obvious and important differences in effective policing methods that these two attitudes lead to, I do feel there is something to be weary of in this American landscape of uniforms.

I was detained and questioned by Homeland Security when re-entering the country, so my pessimism in regards to these matters should be considered. I’d imagine I’ve been put on a list at this point simply for traveling to Egypt and having then having my passport filed. I do think it’s not far fetched that my phone might be taped and my emails are being monitored. I’ve had two instances already where when I pick up my phone and dial and instead of a ring I’m greeted by a chatter of multiple voices coming over my line, or getting strange pauses and clicks before and after phone calls. I say this without sounding paranoid, because at this point, it’s become pretty SOP for people from all walks of life to be on government monitoring lists according to several reports. When the attorney general is stopped and detained at the airport because his name is on a terrorism watch list which is over 100,000 strong or when it has been brought to light by organizations of the Time’s stature that there are government agencies monitoring a massive amount of domestic communication, I don’t think I’m being that outrageous in claiming so. But I don’t care either at this point. What can be done about it? And what have I done?

As America bows in reverence to China’s display of manufactured power at the Olympics and slings out empty phrases of aggression at Russia as we shake our fists from afar from behind our high walls, I see an America that will eat it’s own when the time comes, when our fall from power can no longer be questioned. Authorities will stare down with greedy eyes ready to cannibalize it’s children in some kind of twisted act of self preservation. Living in the American Empire abroad made me appreciate what our policies have done to make the American Abroad a person of stature, but as the saying goes, “Karma’s a bitch.” I saw a piece of art this weekend; a large canvas mural with a world map painted in red on it. The American continent was missing, and in large letters below the question was asked, “What will the world look like without America?” This is one of the most pertinent questions of the century.

Despite the huge amount of harm and damage we’ve done to the world, this summer has made me question America’s role in the world, and no matter how bad we’ve been, the behavior of an unrestrained Russia and China will probably be no different and perhaps more aggressive. But what will they have to offer the world? Great books? The music that has made the world move for the past 100 years? I recognize this is cultural arrogance on my part, and these countries will contribute positive things to the world as time progresses, but reflecting on the enormous cultural impact we’ve had throughout the turmoil we’ve spread, in our music, books, films and art, I wonder whether a Putin-esque Russia will ever be able to issue forth works that speak to the world’s soul in the way so many of our cultural exports have. But we’ve sent out a lot of garbage too, and it’s been lapped up, so I’m not sure where I really stand as I write this. Time will tell. Cultural exchange and values are hard to pin down; people write books on the subject, and I should probably pick one up before I write anymore on this. I’m in uncharted territory personally.

What matters though to me most now is that I am content. My head feels clear and I feel a certain sense of “anything goes.” I have given up on worrying over things. What is, what will be, these questions I am in the act of sacrificing.

My last month in Egypt seemed to see a lot of concerns and worries fall away as I spent more and more time alone, and frequently without any money. In New York this would have eaten me, but something over there changed. In a country where someone you meet on the train will invite you into their home for dinner, it’s hard to worry too much about things. So then the trick is of course continuing to live this way in a place where that is not the norm. Already the siren’s song for wealth, prestige, and all the New York trappings is calling out.

Things have been so busy since I’ve been back so I haven’t had a lot of time to reflect. No work this week, so I should have some more time to reflect and keep focused. I feel more content, more confident and filled with direction with all the old stress is gone, so it’s something to hold onto. I was challenged today and happy to see I made it through it.

I socialized for over a week straight, and only one night did I find myself coming home after work. Dinners, happy hours, concerts, walks, and parties; despite working everyday last week, I feel like I’m on some kind of vacation. Every night brings a new adventure, new people and friends, and old friends too. My energy has been high and I’m surprised at my own stamina.

My friend Adam told me over dinner one night he thinks coming to New York is like riding a wave, sometimes you catch the right one, sometimes you don’t. Your up one time, down another. I seem to have caught an upwardly moving wave since arriving.

I came back with $25 in my bank account and five dollars on me, then before I knew it I had a paycheck, a random check dated from July as a late payoff on old business, and a little charity money; and voila, a surprisingly high bank account given my circumstances.

I am sleeping on my friends floor but wake up every morning feeling refreshed. At the end of the month he will leave the room and I’ll rent it out. For my first time in NY I’ll have a room with full privacy, in an apartment with a more than practical living arrangement; homey, simple and with a view of the Empire State building from the kitchen windows, all for a hundred less than what I paid at my old place. It’s dirt cheap and I can’t believe it’s going to be my rent. I’m three blocks from Atlantic Avenue, surrounded by an option of express train lines, and upscale Brooklyn neighborhoods. Even more ironic is the prevalence of Middle Eastern restaurants and grocery stores on my stretch of Atlantic Ave. Across the street from me is a hole in the wall Carribean take-out joint, they serve a large ten dollar chicken curry that is the best I’ve had and makes about three meals. Caribbeans move and hustle on the immediate streets outside, reggae and hip hop coming out of boom boxes as men and women move through the cheap patty joints, nail salons and fast food spots. It’s lively, bright, cheap, it reminds me of Cairo in some passing way. At night it’s quiet, the streets empty and I can walk just a few blocks over into gentrified brownstone Boreum Hill and enjoy a good beer at a brand new café/bar that has opened up and is surprisingly cool. I’m happy to leave behind my old place and neighborhood filled as it is with some good memories but a lot of stress and unhappiness, and inconvenience. So long G line, hello Q, A, 4, F etc. I’m getting a fresh start here and I couldn’t be more happy that I’ve decided to let go of the old.

I’ve danced wildly in a Macdougal street basement on a Sunday night to some house music you can only hear in a city like New York without a drink in me, caught up with old friends who’ve converged on New York, met someone who lived in Cairo longer than me doing something similar, been rained on Central Park, danced with a penguin, talked about Balkan road trips and clubbing in Kosovo etc. It’s good to be back here, despite the assholes I’ve forgotten about, there’s such a beautiful mix of strange and interesting people, it’s invigorating. I couldn’t stop blabbing to myself or others the first week back about how high I felt I was getting off it all, every night absorbing all this energy and mixture of people, I was caught up in some kind of ecstasy of diversity.

So, so far coming back isn’t as bad as I thought it might be. In fact it’s been a smooth, fun and interesting ride.

So I think this closes it. From now I’ll start posting photos. I’ve enjoyed the blog thing, so I might start up something a bit more free flowing and general once I get a little more settled…inshallah.

Photos and an update coming soon. Watch the space. I’ve been swamped with activities and work since I got back, I’ve hardly been home outside of sleeping hours. Work dies down this coming week though so I can get back on the train. It’s been fun, but looking forward to a breather.

I’m back. NY feels like the bastion of all civilization right now. Amazing the order, the cleanliness, the quiet! And this is New York! I’ve been up for 24 hours since I woke for my flight at 5am Cairo time. It’s now 5am there, but only 10:15 here. I’m going to sleep soon. But safe and sound. I went for a walk and a drink with a friend this evening and I felt that confidence that comes with having traveled to some place so far gone from home. My old employers have already contacted me, so things are looking good. Tomorrow life starts up again here.

Last day. And now it’s time to head home. I wish I had just a week more at this point to dig into Cairo deeper and take the time to go see some things I missed. I regret for instance not visiting Medieval Cairo more to just walk around and take it all in. But overall I feel really good about my trip now. I struggled a lot the first two months with feelings of confusion over why I’d come and what I hoped to gain by being here. A lot of times I felt like maybe I was wasting my time and had made the wrong choice in coming; with friends around me getting married, receiving promotions, looking into buying homes and this kind of thing, I often felt like I was being irresponsible, putting my life on hold for maybe too long a time.

I worried and stressed over my photography. But that’s just part of the working process when undertaking something like this, I dealt with it in Texas and that was just for four days. I’ve come to learn it’s a natural thing for most photographers to experience lot’s of self doubt, and as I’ve grown more comfortable here, I’ve been learning how not to worry about it. Focus on the work, try and make it good, learn from the mistakes and failures, and at the end of the day, just learn to release it. I no longer worry about I’ve done or haven’t done in that area. Excited to see the results of all this, but ready to accept it and move on if the results aren’t there or some technical issues botch lot’s of the film. And if it does turn into something, well then I’ll feel pretty damn good about that.

This probably has something to do with where I’m at mentally now in Cairo too.

I’ve been broke most of this moth despite coming into some money towards the end; eating endless meals of toasted pita bread with peanut butter and honey to save money, but I feel more content and comfortable than I’ve felt my whole stay here in Cairo, or in sometime anywhere. Strangely it feels home like now. I feel like I know how to walk it’s streets, deal with it’s hustlers, curiosity seekers, street kids, shop owners, taxi drivers and people with confidence that has come in spurts over the summer, but now feels whole and complete. So many of the concerns that have eaten at me in NYC for the past year and half that I brought with me over have slowly fallen away over the past weeks.

Friends have been gone the past few weeks since it’s North Coast season around here, so I’ve had of alone time in Cairo. It was awkward at first since I was used to seeing people out nearly everyday for such a long time here, but it’s been really good looking back on it now. I’ve seen so much more of the city, met people I never would have met, and just generally fallen into a good groove here.

I wish I could have been able to afford to travel more throughout the region and visit a few other cities; Beirut and Damascus was the dream, but the airfare was a big deterrent, but looking back I had an experience here. I traveled and saw all the things tourists and students see, but usually did with a bit more flair and less hassle. How many tourists get wined and dined by hotel managers? How many get to ride through remote deserts in a Mercedes or visit a slum one day and sit by a pool in one of the most upscale neighborhoods the next? Walk to their window in the still cool morning and pick a guava fruit off the tree branches hanging outside?

I’ve met and befriended Egyptians from different walks of life at this point, moving out on my own having facilitated this. I’ve had lemon juice with one of the last remaining Egyptian Jews in Cairo and talked about New Orleans. I’ve hung out with old Egyptian men in a home built into an old alleyway drinking and smoking late into the night. I’ve danced on the Red Sea at one of the biggest society weddings with over a thousand guests. I’ve visited the home of one of the big name families in Egypt, eaten dinner in a poor neighborhood with a nameless family.

I haven’t ridden a camel and haven’t been to Sharm. I’ve ridden in the back of a Bedouin truck down the coast. I’ve ridden along as friends went real estate shopping in an oasis and my first day of seeing Cairo was from the back seat of luxury car as we went furniture shopping. A lot of times I’m left asking myself if I made the most of my time here. But looking back on it now, it seems that it’s been an unusual and interesting trip, time hardly wasted.

Now the excitement of going home. I shouldn’t be getting too interested; I think going back is going to be like getting thrown into the ocean without a life vest. Couch surfing the first three weeks, obsolete account balance, possibly having to move out of the place I’ve called home in Brooklyn since I moved there to a smaller apartment in a walk up, and etc. I’m going to get wet no doubt there. But I’m hoping to roll back in with the mindset I’m in here, if I do I should be fine.

Brooklyn, New York, it all seems colder now thinking about it after here. I was thinking about this I sat in a cab coming home one evening.

I pictured all the cramped together buildings, the empty streets, the bleakness of Brooklyn and the way it carries such an imposing air about it even though it has none of the skyscrapers of Manhattan. Brooklyn often seems dead, morose and lonely unless your out in Willliamsburg, parts of Park Slope or Smith St. Everyone rushing around chasing more money to buy more things to feel like successes, New York, a city which “makes even a rich man feel unimportant.” I’m not immune to this.

I look at Cairo outside my window. The sun is setting and on either side of the highway run slums almost as far as the eye can see. There is pollution in the air and it’s hot, but outside pulsates life. Men are sipping tea along the side of the road outside the City of the Dead waiting on their buses or just trying to beat the heat. Children are running around chasing one another and playing games.

The sun in it’s slow death catches a young boy high above the graveyard city standing on top of pigeon roost that looks like some large tree house constructed on top of a small building. He is waving a large flag and a flock of pigeons turn and dive at his movements. We pass him and for one second he is overwhelmed by the sun and his body becomes a black outline against the orange. For him it’s just another part of his day and life, infused with no more significance than me taking a walk over the Brooklyn Bridge at sunset, but right now it seems infused with some significance about life here.

All around life is making itself seen and heard here. Its polluted, chaotic and messy, but there is something exciting and beautiful about it despite all the headaches. Life back in the states is clean, orderly and safe, but I feel like going back now I might see something missing that seems fundamental to people being human. Then again…

It’s easy to be nostalgic when leaving a place. New York has plenty of it’s charms and character, I’m just curious more than anything through what eyes I will view it now that I’ve been so gone in a city like Cairo.

Time to go. I’ll be posting here throughout the next few weeks. I’ve got a few random things I’ve written that can go up, some snapshots I should have posted long ago, and as I started getting images scanned from the film, I’ll share those too. So this will probably turn into a bit of a photo blog by the end of the month, so keep checking it out.

Thanks for reading.