……actually I will…..I love top 10s. Here is my Top 10 “Little Things” to sort out for any new government in Egypt. (Because my mother told me…”Son, sort out the little things and the big things will take care of themselves” – or at least I think it was her….could have been something I heard in an advert….or in a film?…..hmmmm…..it’s odd…I could have sworn it was her…..but now I just can’t be sure if I am imagining it…you see it’s not the sort of thing she would say….at least not in those exact words with her deep West African accent…maybe if I add ‘ohhhh’ to it – like…..”If you sort out da little tings ohhh…den da big tings will not bodda you ohhhhh”. Nah. I think I heard it on TV. Sorry I digress……

Ok here we go.

10 Tar the roads and put drainage in.

Yes, an easy one to start. Just a little thing, but one that would make so much difference. It rarely rains in Cairo, but when it does the city turns to mush. Tar the roads and put drainage in. Please.

9 Public unrination

Come on new government this should be a capital crime. You see …I’ve been there. I think we all have…right? Dying to pee? Outside? No where to go? But….I always find somewhere, you always find somewhere don’t you? You start looking the moment you get that first tingle – that warning, the one that tells you that in 15 to 20 minutes you are going to be desperate. I do. I get the warning. I don’t just park up and relieve. It’s not nice. It’s what dogs do, need I say more?

Look. After nearly 2 years I have come to love Cairo over London and thus Egypt over England. But there are things that Egypt can and must learn from England….like punish people who pee in public. In England they have started getting them to wash it themselves. Yes! Really! Check it out here.

8 Half finished buildings

Now….Mr. Minister of Parliament, let me help you with this one because you obviously have your hands full. Here is what I would do. Anyone who has a half finished building has just 1 year to finish it…..or it will be knocked to the ground and turned into a grassy play area for children, or a car park. Simple. If you have never been to Cairo you may think this is harsh. If you live in Cairo you will completely understand. Don’t bother voting for me now…..the elections are over and quite frankly I’m too scared of  - The Judgement  - to lead a people. Mine is simply to advise. Haha. Hah. ha. hmm. Hehe….

7 Wetting the floor for no reason other than to wet the floor

Yes you know what I mean. You’ve seen it too. The bawab does it in the morning and just after maghrib. The man that sells the “print while you wait business cards” on the side street in Attaba market does it. The guy who owns the cafe opposite the bank in Maadi does it. Every single coffeshop  or sheesha bar owner does it. Let’s all wet the ground and pretend we have a good reason for it. My bawab tells me it is to stop dust billowing up on to the side of the cars he has just cleaned. I believe him. It’s a reasonable explanation at least it would be….IF THE GROUND WASN’T ALREADY SOAKING WET FROM HIM WASHING THE CARS!!!!…..ehem…I’m sorry about that…I don’t know what came over me. So, anyway, lets just get a bucket of water and a cup and lets fill the cup from the bucket and do this showey offey throw of water as far from where we stand with our showey offey wrist movement to show we have it down as an art better than the bawab across the street. Yes I know it turns the road to mush and that will stick to everyone’s shoes for the rest of the day, but hey…. its the wet the ground thing that we do and it’s very, very important that we do it….everyday.

6 Litter

Where do I start? Are you comfortable minister? You look tired. I’ve talked about litter before so I’m not going to make a song and dance about this, plus you all know what it’s like and you all hate it just as much if not more than I do. It got so much better after the revolution and I was so proud of everyone and especially the young people who came out with their black bin bags and collected it all and with their paint brushes with the black, white and red paint, painting the pavements in the national colours. Ahhhh. It was sweet. It was charming. It WAS SHORT. And now it has gotten worse. YES WORSE. Stop shaking your head – I’m not asking your opinion – get your own blog. When I want your opinion I’ll give it to you (love that one – you can have it – I got more).

YES IT’SWORSE. Before at least the things I saw on the side of the road were…..normal. You know….household litter, piles of food, nappies, piles of sand, wood, clothing, the odd dead rodent…even dog. But a horse? H-O-R-S-E horse! A whole horse? You mean someone thought….oh no….my horse has died….I know….I’ll throw him in the bin? Now where is that?…..Hmmm….oh yes……it’s just anywhere outside……ok then liiiiifffffffft…. and….. doooown!  There we go. Bye. And the remarkable thing is that it has been a week and no-one has moved it.  Of course the bin men haven’t moved it. Why?…..well for one thing it can’t be sold on.  And number two….oh who needs a number two. Don’t be fooled by the picture, it was taken about 4 minutes drive from my house, not somewhere out on the desert road…no…trust me…this is local residential! I’ve seen it every morning for a week, on the bus on the way to work. Pass me that lemonade. Mmmm, is that real lemons? Lovely.

Picture of the horse - Warning Dead Horse

5 Pavements

Oh pavements. Sidewalks. Please get some for us. The people voted you in. Be kind and give them some where to walk. And make it a sidewalk slightly elevated from the height of the main street. Not 3ft higher. It’s not a stage. We are pedestrians, we’re not putting on a play. Don’t make it so high that when people park a car next to the sidewalk they can not open the car door.  Just think….It would mean that parents could walk with their children to the local kushk and buy them sweets. Mothers could push prams (buggies) without having to stop every 30 seconds to lift the whole pram into the air to get up onto or down from the sidewalk. Old people and the disabled could actually get about on their own. I know! Amaaaaazing! You have the power now. Use it.

4 Traffic Police

You see minister…it’s simple. Get some. No…we don’t have some already. What we have are normal police who sometimes deal with traffic incidents like giving out tickets without actually giving out the ticket so that the driver gets fined when he goes to renew his car registration. I mean, who ever heard of such a thing? Most human rights are a load of nonsense, I think…. personally. I mean, what right has one man to decide what another man’s rights are, let alone hold the whole world to them? I’m biased though because I believe only God can judge us, but I may be tempted to make an exception in the case of traffic fines in Egypt. It should be made a human right to be told when you have committed a traffic offense and not simply be written down by some “fuul in baladi bread” munching – dress like the brown guy in the 70s cop series Chips – we used to be respected once – my trousers are waaaaaay to small – policeman. How is that in anyway on this earth FAIR? I’m going to write in about it. I’m not Egyptian – I don’t have an ID card. I can’t vote. But I can write. Here is the letter…

3 Noise

Would you like another tea minister?….Same again wela maraa di bi leben?  Wahid shay bi Nana lowsamaht…..la-a….sukr barra. It’s coming….My pleasure.  As I was saying…just a little thing…….noise. (No don’t read it again – its just….Sam-isms.)

I’m not trying to change Cairo. I love it. I love the hustle and bustle. I love the fact that people are out and about all hours of the day and night. It’s alive. It’s got life and character. It breathes. We don’t, we cough and splutter, but Cairo breathes at all hours. No I have no problem with that. It’s the unnecessary  noise, made by thoughtless people that I have a problem with.

Take the school bus that arrives to collect the children across the street as an example. The children know what time you come. You come everyday at the same time. The children do not need to BE BEEPED OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER AS SOON AS YOU PULL UP – UNTIL THEY ARE SAT IN THEIR SEATS!!!!!! Ehem….excuse me. Then there is the guy that sells the bags of candy floss and blows the funny whistle thing to let the children know he has arrived. We can hear you. We could hear you three or four buildings away. You don’t have to blow it WITH EVERY FLAMING STEP YOU TAKE – FOR THE LENGTH OF THE ENTIRE STREET….and the same goes for the guy in the truck with the loudspeaker who is collecting old bread. WHAT ARE YOU SAYING ANYWAY?…..and why are you collecting old mouldy bread?

Then there is the wedding…..this one I actually don’t mind. I understand this one. It is part of Islam to let the neighbours know that a walima (wedding party) is taking place. it lets them know when they see this single man or woman, suddenly in cahoots with a partner, that this is all above board and legal. I get it. I love it. But why do you need to have 8 cars outside beeping? WHY? WHY? DO – THEY  - HAVE – TO – BEEP – FOR 3 HOURS!!!!!! WE GET IT! THERE IS A WEDDING! MUSIC! CHEERING! AND THAT WLWLWLWLWLWWEEEEEE THING! BUT BEEP BLOOMIN’ BEEP? WHY?

I’m not even going to mention the guy that comes around banging on the umbooba (gas cylinder), or the beeeeeeeeeekya guy, or the guy that comes round shouting for knives that need ironing….oh no…I’m not mentioning any of them…because then I’d just be going on…and on…and on…

It should be illegal to make unnecessary noise at unacceptable hours of the day or night. The fine? You should be made to stand silently for 4 hours in the street where you made the noise…or something….oh I don’t know…..just….stop it…..stop it…please.

2 The big smoke

I live on a mountain. I can see the whole of Cairo if I drive to the end of my street – let me re-phrase that – I would be able to see the whole of cairo from the end of my street, but instead I see a big black cloud of smoke over Cairo. Sort it out. Get a system of checking car engines so the cars that were built in 1910 and the ones being driven with banana juice for fuel are forbidden from being on the road. It’s ridiculous the pollution in this city. My children have all become asthmatic since coming here. Ok they were already prone to it but being in Cairo has made it 10 times worse. It’s just wrong. There are micro-buses that just look like a ball of smoke as they approach. The black fumes billowing out the back are unbelievable!  Every time I go out into the city from the mountain and get back  MY BOGIES ARE BLACK! What is that about?

It’s killing us slowly. You’re in charge now. Deal with it.

1 – THE WINNER

Institutions of Accountability

This is where it gets serious. Schools…do what they like because they are private. So do doctors and pharmacies and countless other public service institutions. The problem is….no-one is checking on them. Where is the standard that each one has to uphold for the sake of public safety? The amount of times a pharmacy has sold me an inappropriate medicine is unbelievable. My wife was promised that the level of hydrocortisone in the cream she bought to treat my daughter’s eczema was safe, only to find that it was so strong it made her skin fade. “Really?….oh sorry……..trrrrrrry……this one!” is the reply. NOT GOOD ENOUGH. Where is the ombudsman? Where is the office of medical thingy….that I write to and complain? Where is the office that holds all the records of schools performances?…. teachers that abused children?….nurseries that gave all the kids food poisoning?……policemen that took bribes?…

Without institutes of accountability we, the public are just walking a tight rope, destined to fall prey to some joker’s apathy or inadequate training. Anyone can advertise themselves as anything and with the right amount of funding, fool others into buying into a service that he or she can not actually deliver. It leads to corruption, bribery and quite frankly, poor service and poor product and forces people to look outside Egypt for something better. You want a product that will last you? Buy foreign made! Why? It shouldn’t be like that! Road vendors should have a permit to say that they have been taught about germs and hygiene and that the meat they are selling was not dead on the side of the road before they cooked it. Maybe then less people would get sick. Drivers should have to pass a test to get a license. Maybe then less people would be killed on the road. Schools should have to adhere to structured guidelines for hiring staff and teaching methods so that children are safe and well educated even at the free schools. Why should some fat guy with money be allowed to open a school and hire anybody he likes to teach anything he wants.

It’s just a little thing. But if someone finally takes charge in Egypt with Egyptians and Egypt as their focus and their priority over getting rich and being bowed to by poorer people or hugged by American presidents….then maybe…just maybe…the big things will take care of themselves.

It’s at that point that something suddenly ‘clicks’ for me. I don’t read Arabic very well, I’m slow and I do not have enough vocab tied down to make sense of everything. But lately I have been inundated with leaflets and flyers from potential voting candidates. Each one, or group, next to a picture of themselves, has the most peculiar image.

I unravelled two in my hand, given to me moments before by a young boy outside the mosque. On one of them I saw two symbols representing individuals. One was a shirt. Yes a shirt. Not a drawing of a shirt – a picture of real shirt. The other was a table. A real table.

I understood without being told that these are to help the millions who can not read in this country to recognise the person they wish to vote for when they get to the ballot box. But I couldn’t help smiling to myself. I have just never seen or heard of the like in all my life. Granted, it’s genius…how else could you solve the problem? But one thing still puzzles me…well two things…well actually three things but lets stick to two because I’m supposed to be getting ready for work and if I carry on typing about the number of things that actually puzzle me….I’m still doing it aren’t I?

What puzzles me is if you can not read the flyer which tells you what the candidates stands for, why would you bother looking for the shirt or table on the ballot paper anyway? I mean, for this whole pictionary, (modern day hieroglyphics) thing to work surely you would have to add more symbols which together describe your manifesto.

Here’s one I made earlier:

Bored? Pick me.

Here is a real flyer.

This is for the Hizb An Nour (Party of Light) – their symbol is a lantern (tabban) can you see it in the top right hand corner? I’m not endorsing anyone by the way – I’m just showing you one as an example.

If you’re here in Cairo, go outside and check them out, you may not have consciously noticed them before.

I’ve been trying to decide which symbol I would choose if I were standing for election. I think I would use my marketing genius and go for…..a juicy, succulent, soft roast chicken with crispy skin. Come on….think about it….You’ve been standing in a line all this time waiting for your turn to cast your vote. People pushing and shoving, moaning, complaining. You had to rush out because you wanted to get a good place. You are tired and flustered and Aunty Lafisa can not look after the children all day….and….. if you didn’t vote you would have been fined (yes apparently that is the case)…so you finally pick up the ballot paper and begin to look for your favourite….. Ahmed….what was his name?…..Ahmed El..something………Oh….. the one with the..the……..table symbol….where …is….he?…..not him…….not him….not them…….ooh wait! Hello……What is this?……Mmmmmmmm chickeeeeeen.

Hm? Eh? You with me now?…….Genius! (You can have that one – I got more).

It’s hard to put your finger on exactly what is happening here in Egypt at the moment. No I don’t mean the fighting and the death, or the injuries or the protests, thats clear. What is not so clear is who is demanding what, why and with what resource? There are so many groups now that it does make your head spin a little to try and factor them all in. Being a completely televised affair is not helping because every Kevin and his brother is airing his opinion and thus rumour and speculation have become president and vice of the situation. That said;  there are a few questions that are worth posing for ponder.

1. Why now? Why wait until the elections are just about to take place before demanding the retirement of the SCAF? It is clearly impossible for a transition to a civilian government to happen before the election, so it must be to halt the elections completely. Why? I thought the point of the revolution was to oust the ruling party and call for elections? When will the youth movements be happy with elections? When it seems plausible for a win for one that THEY like? Or is it a fear that the old regime will gain power in the elections? Who is behind the youth movements? Who is supporting their message inside and outside the country? Same for the Islamists and the army….who if anyone is pushing their agenda?

2. And then there’s Tantawi and his band of marry men (the Egyptian army). Once the darling of the people, the chants have now changed to “Al shorrta, Al Jaysh – Eeed wahda” (the police and the army are hand in hand – or are one hand…. if you are being pinickty). Why do they want to retain autonomous power? The job of any army is solely to protect the nation from external threat. Such threats are by their nature, political, before becoming physical. Take the Palestinian situation for example. Had it not been for the political paralysis of the indigenous Palestinians (ie: – British rule) they could have long prevented the build-up of Zionist populations into the land, which happened over decades before the state of Israel was declared. Once declared the struggle became and is now, physical. Why would an army want autonomy from the political rulers if they are civilian and democratically elected? A general decides how to fight but the rulers decide when. Will the SCAF ever release power in Egypt without a revolution or as they call it a “referendum”?

3. Is the fear of an Islamic State in Egypt a scapegoat for both sides to wrestle for power, leaving chaos in their wake? Or is it justified?  Should an Islamic party come to power, resembling something like the Turkish ruling party, be  that bad thing for Egypt? Or is it a muse to keep the fear and money pouring in from the US and Europe? Is democracy only good if you get the result you want? What if the people want Sharia? What then?

4. Is the Arab spring simply presenting opportunities for the emerging superpowers like China and Russia to gain a foothold in disturbing US national interests in the region? Are we seeing a new tug of war for supply routes and pipelines? Libya was a key element and we saw how fast and hard the “International Community” worked to make sure that ended correctly. With the US and Europe in economic turmoil, China and Turkey on the rise and a tug of war for controlling Iran a priority, 2012 will be a very interesting year. But where does Egypt fit into this? You can’t just leave 80 million majority muslim Arabs on a border with Israel to “sort it out themselves.” Can you?

5. Lastly, will foreigners again become a target for the police and army? Will rumours spread of a foreign conspiracy? Is it safe to go to Tahrir as a non-Egyptian and voice your opinion? Or should all non-citizens stay at home and listen to the droll of Sherine Tadros from yet another balcony up high over the chants? (Sorry Sherine it’s not personal it’s just that I watch the same reports over and over – my fault not yours).

Questions, questions…….questions kiteer…. but answers, answers?…..la-a…mafeesh khaalus. Help!

Nonsense, I hear some of you say. Really? I only have to tell a taxi driver that I am from London and his whole attitude changes. Before I was just another jigaboo (I’m saying that – he didn’t) from Africa illegally here eyeing up honest, chaste and forbidden Arab maidens, but now……ya salaaaaam……..now I’m from the “is very good…besta peoples….’assan nas – ‘assan balad”. Worst still, next always comes the question, “Why would you come here?” which is a valid question in itself and one that I would not comment about except that it is asked as though I have turned up in my wedding dress to a public toilet.

“I love Egypt,” I always tell them (which is easier to say some days than it is others). I usually hold back on telling them that my wife is Egyptian because sometimes they show signs of discomfort which I find awkwardly 1950s, if not plain annoying. “I prefer Cairo to London over-all.” I continue my sales pitch, selling Egypt to an Egyptian. “I prefer the weather. I prefer the size of homes. I prefer the simple kindness of the people. I prefer the halal meat which is easily accessible (I ate tuna sandwiches in London’s Square Mile for 10 years – now there are days when I see a tuna sandwich that I want to smash it against the nearest wall! – another post…..I digress…I’m sorry) “I prefer that I can pray at work and nobody thinks it’s weird, or stands watching me talking about it as though I’m in a hypnotic trance and can not hear. I prefer that people are not close to having sex on the bus or train and that my children do not have to constantly ask ‘why that man is kissing another man’ or watch another young girl throwing up a nights worth of vodka and redbull, mixed with kebab on the side of a road….etc…etc…etc”

All this I say in Arabic (yes…..I know…get me eh…..getting good wiv da lingo old sammy boy – just need to work on my verbs and tenses and pronunciation of 3ayn – oh and find the word for tuna…) which makes no difference to the driver because he looks at me in the mirror (yes I sit in the back – mostly to avoid this conversation – oh the irony) and says “this lighter is from China – and see this here?…this pen?….from New York….London…..I want to go to London…..the besta peeples”. “Thanks.” I say. I understand that if you work 18 hours a day and earn less than your foreign passenger pays for his midday meals – you are going to develop an inferiority complex of sorts. One that is based mainly on finance and not really on you thinking that the other is better. But then, that does not explain why the wealthier Egyptians sit around in the sports clubs speaking English and French to each other and their children. We, my wife and the children, are members of one of the oldest and most prestigious clubs in Egypt. I can’t stand the bloomin’ place, for exactly that reason – people, Egyptians, walking around pretending to be foreigners. I just think it is the height of- …..I don’t know why……it ….infuriates…….it embarrasses me.  But then it gets worse.

There are 3 pay grades. The lowest (by a good margin) is Local. Local means that you have an Egyptian passport and no other. You are Egyptian and therefore you will automatically, regardless of your skills, education or experience, be paid proportionately less. And it is very significant. Then there is Local Foreign. (I know?). That means that you are a citizen of a fine western nation, but you were dumb enough to apply whilst here in Egypt, showing that you are indeed staying and have stooped to the level of needing an ‘Egyptian’ job. You are paid better than a Local, but still paid in L.E. (Egyptian pounds) which will just about keep you shopping at Metro, but gone are the Cadbury’s products in every shopping basket you wield. Then of course there is the top class, the creme da la creme – Foreign. Foreigners are often paid in dollars or sterling pounds and they earn up to 5 times what a local does for exactly the same job.

I, as a foreigner, find this ridiculous to the point of laughter. I simply can not comprehend it. When people email or phone me to help them find a job in Cairo – the first thing I tell them is to apply before they get here. When I explain why – they are shocked, not because they will get paid more than a Local ( no westerners, including myself – have no problem accepting that we are “better” than others ) but shocked that it will make a difference whether they apply from outside or inside the country. At least once you are here, you can attend the interview in person, that has to be better right? Wrong. The really big firms will interview you abroad and the smaller ones via Skype, telephone and email. Speak as foreign as you can and use NO ARABIC at all. What the person interviewing you does not understand, they will accept as your sheer brilliance and mastery of the sophisticated and superior tongue of the worlds greatest hemisphere. Fear not Mr or Ms. Foreigner you are in good hands. Ahlan wa Sahlan. Welcome to Egypt.

As someone who just started teaching I found it amazing when I realised that as a foreigner a person receives extra bonuses, free schooling for their children, free accommodation and  of course more pay, whilst the Local and Foreign Locals do not. I would understand if this was the case for English, French or German language teachers, because there is in my opinion a case to be made for the native tongue when it comes to teaching a language…but Maths? (Yes we British say Maths…not Math) Science? Why would a Foreign teacher be any better than an Egyptian teacher?

As one of the richest men on earth, Elton John, once said – “It’s sad, so sad. It’s a sad, sad, situation. And it’s getting more and more absurd.” Maybe he was applying for a job in Egypt? Go figure.

There needs to be fairness. Employ someone and pay him/her because they deserve it, because they are the best for the job and pay them accordingly. Is that too complicated? The current system is flawed enormously and it seems like everyone has his/her head buried in the sand. Wake up.  What will eventually happen is that Egyptians will come to resent foreigners…..and who can blame them? Not me.

This is Egypt. As much as I love her. She is one difficult lady to keep happy. She has mood swings like you would not believe. She is sensitive to the point of paranoia and has a stubbornness that is at times unbearable. So having a baby will present every opportunity to want to kill someone. And it started when we had to choose a doctor.

“Don’t choose a female doctor” says the third “responsible” Egyptian we have asked. “They are useless when it comes to surgery or any difficult situation.”

I’m thinking “what rubbish” how can you say that? What a horrible generalisation. How can all women doctors be rubbish with pregnancy? My wife preferred to use a woman Gyno for obvious reasons so we checked out one of the recommended “best female” ones. I will not name her because that would be unfair, but I will say that her lazy eye and thick glasses was not a good start as a first impression of the person that will be operating with a knife. But we put or prejudices aside and gave her another chance. It was at the point that she forgot and changed the expected date by almost 3 weeks and changed the sex of the baby twice in 1 meeting without apologising or recognising she had done, that we began to worry and my wife was like “Noooooo waaaaay” that we checked out a male doctor this time.

“I told you” said the fifth, well travelled woman, who had had a baby in Egypt. “You don’t use women Doctors here in Egypt…..they can’t do a good job”. Unbelievable. Is it just me? How has this opinion made it’s way into the hearts of so many people living here? I reserve my comment except to say that it is very ‘sad’. I am, that said however, going with a male doctor – so it has worked on me.

I’m dreading the administration after the birth. My friend from London had a baby recently and spent months trying to get a birth certificate from the authorities here. He did not realise he had a 2 week window to sort it out and when he didn’t he found himself having to prove he was married to his wife (British marriage certificate not accepted) because she has a Pakistani passport which claims she is Muslim and his British passport does not state his religion. He was therefore in the eyes of the authorities here a possible violator of his wife’s honour and father to a child born outside of wedlock. Unbelievable. Especially because he was born Muslim, is called Hussein and does have a marriage certificate proving it’s his wife, even if it is foreign. They were not allowed to take the baby out of the country because without a birth certificate the baby could not be made a British citizen and could not obtain a passport. So they were stuck.

My wife and I are married according the Egyptian law. We had to have this declared in the administration office in Abbasiya. You had to be there really. There is no queue to speak of, just a crowd of people waiting their turn by holding their papers over your head so that you have to smell their armpit while you battle for the attention of the clerk behind the counter who looks an awkward mix between angry, sad, confused and as though she is planning to commit suicide.

“When did you get married?”

“In 1997″

“Where does it say that?”

“Here look”

“It says 2009″

“No thats when this document was translated – here look….1997″

“Is he Muslim?” (He is me….by now you have guessed this conversation is in translation from Arabic and is between the female clerk and my wife)

“Yes”

She looks at me. I smile in a very guilty way. Even though I am Muslim I just get the feeling she is not going to believe me. Desperate to avoid a situation where I am going to have to prove it by having to go to some other admin office miles away and spend another 4 days getting it sorted, I start thinking what I can do to convince her. Maybe I should recite a surah?

“Alhamduillah” I say. It was more like a question. “Alhamduillah?” Like I was asking whther that would be accepted.

“Swear it,” she says to my wife.

“I swear” my wife says with a tone of exasperation. I can feel exactly what she thinking. Like, why would she come here with 3 grown kids in tow, dressed in a scarf and full length dress to “pretend” that this ‘man’ beside her was a muslim?

“Fine.”

Stamp. Stamp. Scribble. Scribble. NEXT!

Turns out however, that we now need to get another copy of our original British Marriage certificate as the Egyptian Authorities keep it when they give you an Egyptian one. Why? God knows. I argued but…..she was not even remotely interested in explaining.

You have to realise that here in Egypt, the government office departments are not here to serve you. They are here as a blessing, one that you need to learn to appreciate. The staff that work behind the counters? You are lucky that they even recognise your existence at all, let alone explain the rules to you. If you forget something, a form, a signature, a copy of a document – they just send you away.

“You should have known you would need this”

“How?”

“Because I just told you”

There is little point getting upset. Just smile, say thank you and do what you’re told. Not because you are a push-over, but because YOU WILL NEVER WIN. And you will end up being there all day and then coming back the next day. You can shout a bit….and by all means it helps if you’re dressed well, but do not expect to be “served” its more “dealt with”.

Well the birth should be fun. God help us. It’s a boy by the way……insha Allah. The scan says it’s a boy. Even if the female doctor messed that up and told us it’s a girl. Then a boy. Then a girl. Anyway,  with 4 girls in the house – all I can say is “hurry up son!”

That’s better….now you’re getting it. That’s how ‘back’ I am. Kanye West could not be more loud mouthed about how ‘back’ I am. I’m sooo back  - I’m front. (You can have that one – free).

There is a reason for all that above. I was hacked! Yes, some low life broke into my site and began to use it for his/her own evil inconsiderate means. This prompted Google to take me down. I was alone, broken and in despair. Ridden with trojans and malware and illegal script. I felt violated. Used. S**t. But then I thought, “Hey you! Hacker!…… You can’t just take me down. I’m bigger and stronger than you think.” So I stripped to my bare php files and javascript and I rebuilt LTC. And now I’M BACK. Da-da-daaaa…..Oh….. you get it…lets now do that whole dada thing again.

I now have tighter security. I have rid myself of the ‘timthumb’ script which used to handle my thumbnails. It was like a ‘cat-flap’ in my firewall. Chances are I will get hacked again, but not through that loophole. No! Once bitten, twice not bitten…again…? (I never understood that one). I’ve beefed myself up! No not physically, I haven’t had the time. But I have beefed up my security. I can’t tell you everything I did because the hackers will break it just to prove a point, but I will say that it is harder now. I feel like a steroid pumped hard man. It takes me so long to log to add a post that I think I may have over done it slightly, a bit like the body building champions you see in the magazines (that other people look at and you just know exist but have never ever ever bought or looked at one yourself because that would be totally gay). Anyway I digress…..

So…..you can expect regular posts again. You can expect to hear more about my exploits, views on Cairo, London and the difference inbetween. It will be tough as I have a crazy work schedule, but I will do my best. It feels good to be back here.

Ramadan in Egypt for me is special. Why? Because I’m not alone. Everyone (at least it seems that way) is celebrating the Holy month too. Everyone, like me is struggling to be better. Everyone, like me is sacrificing a comfort. Everyone, like me is making extra effort, giving more and taking less. Everyone, like me is feeling weak, hungry and tired, yet strong, empowered and driven. It’s a far cry from being ridiculed by my ‘Square Mile’ (London’s finance centre) contemporaries for fasting. It’s a far cry from being told I’m being ridiculous, because I do not want to give the hour long presentation which will completely dry my mouth out in the middle of the day. It’s a far cry from holding my hand over my mouth because I’m scared my investment banking clients will smell my “fast breath” a mile away. It’s a far cry from having to work on Eid because I could not tell my directors exactly when the date was going to be. Yes, last year was great. And this year will be special too.

But for anyone travelling here who does not celebrate Ramadan, it will be special for you too. Why? Well, the way Christmas period is special in London. The decorations come out, the lights are turned on, the festive foods are everywhere and you are welcome. Everyone is welcoming and overly generous. No, you won’t find everyone toasting a drink or getting “mullered” every night on copious amounts of G&T but you can expect a lot of invites to eat, to share and to enjoy. If you don’t , contact me and I’ll invite you round to mine for iftar (breaking fast). Yes. If you are willing to participate in this cultural phenomena you will find you are more than welcome. Ramadan in special in Egypt.

It could only be more special if there was not a need to pray for peace but to give thanks for it. One day Insha Allah. One day. Insha Allah. One day.

Ramadan Kareem

You see, despite the very seriously disturbing events which have taken place of late involving the protesters, paid thugs, police, the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces, families of the victims of the Jan 25th revolution, April 6th Youth Movement (keep up if you can) and the remaining members of the NDP, things are….yaani….normal.

By normal I mean that, like most places where state altering political changes are taking place, there are pockets of time and place where the turmoil is visible or invisible to the average person or visitor. You, as a visitor or potential citizen/migrant can quite easily avoid the visible pockets and as such find yourself absolutely, obliviously, safe.

The truth of the matter is that, despite the monumental, fundamental changes which are taking place in Egypt, both politically and therefore socially, everyday Egyptians are doing more….. talking…. than anything else. Life goes on as normal. As usual there is no money and there are no jobs, yet everyday you will notice yet another brand new KIA Cerato pass you in the street, still branding the window sticker from the showroom and the rubber/foam door protector thingy (you know what I mean), or sometimes even the blood stains from the recent slaughter of a sheep as a sacrifice of thanks to God (for the car) and to heed off the ‘evil eye’. Scared now aren’t you? Good. Be afraid. Be very afraid. It could be your neighbour when you MOVE TO EGYPT. Just kidding. No not about the blood stains from the sacrifice, thats true and real. Not about the evil eye, thats very real too – so is the fact that it could be your neighbour (yes they also do it in Maadi, though I hear Zamalekians tend to be less blood-on-car-ry). What I am kidding about, is your being afraid. It’s totally harmless blood splashing….. just different from what you are used to. You are used to seeing your neighbour polishing his new car whilst pretending he has not noticed you noticing him polishing his brand new car. He is also hoping to ward off the ‘evil eye’ (ie; please don’t purposefully scratch the paint when you walk past) whilst secretly relishing in your jealousy. So it seems behind the language and the tanned skin, we are all the same. Group hug. I digress.

Life goes on as normal. Despite the fact that the revolution and political upheaval has ruined the stock market, (yes, I too didn’t realise there was an Egyptian stock market worth a cent until it was ‘ruined’) driven food prices up by 30% and added over 1 million to the jobless queue, the shops are still packed solid, especially the indoor malls like City Stars where everything costs more than it does anywhere else in the world. Yes, despite the ongoing strikes and disruption to the public sector, lack of security and distrust and dismissal of a large amount of the police, everyday Egyptians are still eating out at over priced restaurants, going on expensive holidays abroad and decorating their homes or buying coastal ‘get-aways’ where they send their teenagers without chaperones for fun filled weekends.

When I say “everyday Egyptians” I do of course mean everyday ‘lucky’ people like me and you. Those who live above the bread line by chance of birth. (yes, yes, you worked for it because you studied hard at school – the school you paid for yourself I take it?) Those for whom 2000 LE a month is the cost of the car and not life. You have no reason to be afraid. For you it is safe. The REAL ‘everyday Egyptian’, the (used to be silent) majority ’average man and woman’ on the Egyptian street faces a totally different Egypt. The lack of tourism, due to fear,  over the past 6 months has hugely affected the country and has driven up the cost of survival for many. Political instability has weakened investment and as a result foreign employment has lessened. This has reduced the number of expats and has consequently reduced the income of a large number of “everyday Egyptians” self-employed in service industries.

I was recently in Alexandria and I met a 37 year old man there who drove myself and my family and friends around during our visit. I learned from talking to him, that he had spent the greater part of his adult life in Saudi Arabia working to save enough money to start a business in Egypt. He did. He opened a store in December 2010. By February 2011 Egypt had gone through a revolution. By March 2011 his shop was out of business and he lost all of his investment. He can not afford to go back to Saudi Arabia….yet. In the meantime he hires a micro bus and makes around 20% over the cost of rental a day to feed his family.

Crime has increased. That’s an undeniable blow to your safety. But not to the levels I expected. I come from London. If you removed the police from the streets in London, there would be a social massacre. Remember Katrina? Remember what happened to the women in the shelter when the police were not around to report a rape to? Well in comparison to the UK and the US I think Egypt has done well in the circumstances.

So back to the original question – is it safe to come to Egypt? In a word….depends. Are you a real everyday Egyptian with your life’s earnings depending on a struggling economy to see your family through the next 2 years? Then no. But if you are, like me, an expat with a decent education and some work experience under your belt. If like me, you are not going to live in any troubled spots and take to the streets with every protest and face the thugs, SCAF and remaining disgruntled police elements, or, if, like me, you have the US or UK passport which pretty much guarantees you safe passage home should another revolution break out (including free flights home) and if, like me you can afford to shop at supermarkets, take taxis, buy new clothes with labels, eat ice-cream when its hot, live where there are pavements and sign up for and pay for TE Data to read some foreign dribble blogger’s non-sense opinion on Egyptian safety….then YES…. it’s safe. For you it’s mega safe. In fact, if not for the news, you wouldn’t even know there was a revolution going on. So……. see you soon?

And bares down hard on passers by

I stand with Kakade in hand and glare down from my perch on high

Good Morning Cairo

How are you?

Ezzayuk? Eh Aghbaruk? Wow

How beautiful you look at dawn

How calm, how cool, how still right now.

And from this very balacona

I stand serenaded by

The sprinkle from the bawabs hose

And “beeeeekya” from…….the…….beekya….guy.

And cleaners as they scuttle to and fro on duty to ensure

Some lazy, big fat so and so pays peanuts for a spotless floor

It is not long before the “beep beep” “yella” of the school bus sounds

And light brown children, congregate

With rucksacks dragging on the ground

The sun has climbed just that bit higher

Beads of sweat prepare their fall

The masjid claims it’s role as watch

Allah-u-Akbar comes the call

And from this very balacona

I stand serenaded by

The sprinkle from the bawabs hose

And “beeeeekya” from…….the…….beekya….guy

And some strange horn that denotes candy floss for sale in plastic bags

Bought by children with no shoes,

With pound coins clutched in blackened hands

And baada’l Asr the air is thick with heat and dry as English jokes

And cats take shelter under cars

And cars take shelter under coats

Finding no shelter from the sun

I squint and ponder

Wonder why

Some cars have better covers than

The clothes of those

who wipe them

Aye,  its from this very balacona

I stand serenaded by

The sprinkle from the bawabs hose

And “beeeeekya” from…….the…….beekya….guy.

And cheers and screams of jubilation

Maghrib brings a setting sun

A neighbor’s marriage car pulls in a convoy

Bint gedeed or son?

“toot – toot” “beep – beep”  old tongues a flitter

Please tell me how they make that noise?

And talk has started of grandchildren

“Hurry up!…..oh.. And make them boys!”

And in the midst of all the carnage a push bike weaves inbetween

Ridden by the local shop boy

On his way delivering

A block of butter, loaf of bread, some sugar and a can of fuul

Three red onions, and 10 cans of seven wrapped in bags to keep them cool

But none are cooler than the dudes

That descend with the darkened sky

And park their cars by dead of night

And watch as girls come passing by

With t-shirts clenching weighted muscles

And sweat patches under arm

And jeans

Of brands no one has heard of

Labels dangling like charms

High above the “ummack” jokes they play with

On my balacona, I

can smell the frying of red onions and some molokheya

High above the street I live on

In the city that I now call mine

I watch the day pass on to night

As street lights flicker on, it’s time

That I left from this balacona where

I stood serenaded by

The sprinkle from the bawabs hose

And “beeeeekya” from…….the…….beekya….guy

I’ll say Good Night you

strange and dusty city that I now call mine.

On my very last visit I went with some friends and we had a drink and some sheesha (I didn’t have any – I’ve given up yeaaaaay!) in this picturesque cafe of which I can’t remember the name. Apparently it is like 100 years old and since this is supposed to be a useful guide to people coming to Cairo it would be really beneficial if I knew the name of the place I’m talking about but I’m far too lazy to find out, so if anyone knows please leave the name in a comment below.

Anyway, it was very entertaining. As you know Khan El Khalili is famous for its ‘bargaining’ and as a foreigner you will be hounded by sales people trying to get you to buy their wares. You need to be a bit thick skinned or you will get either fleeced or very upset.

I have the skin of a wooden crocodile so it really does not bother me. We had singers wanting a bit of money for a song, drummers, guitarists, and more. One guitarist got a bit upset with me I think. I said that we would pay for a song if he knew any Jay-Z. “Jay-Z?” he repeated, puzzled. (Pronounced perfectly I must add) and I said “Yes….or any…… Michael Jackson?” He stormed off. The others looked at me as if to say “that was mean”. “What?” I said, grinning. Finally I got my own back for once. We had someone selling a toy keyboard. Another selling books. I tried the same technique, asking if he had any in English – it didn’t work this time, he did and motioned that he would go and get them. One man had cigarettes and dropped his price by 70% once he realised some of us were locals. Then there were the “hey same colour” women from Aswan selling flowers in a daisy chain. One of them gave me the flowers for free when I said I really didn’t want any. Another one offered me peanuts she had been holding in her hand. I’m not usually a snob but you could have planted seeds in the amount of dirt between her fingernails. When I declined them she said I could have them for free and walked off. One of my local friends told me she was not really offering them for free and that if I touched them (right – like I would have) I’d be asked to pay. Sure enough, 5 minutes later she came and got them, counting them as she picked them up. By the way, “hey same colour” people are Egyptians who greet me by telling me we are the same colour which I used to find irritating, but I realised it was just because it made me self conscious and now I think it’s quite endearing, especially because they are usually about 40 shades lighter than me. Hey anything that brings us together can’t be bad. Maybe one day I can lead the “same colour” people to freedom and deliver them from the evil, negelctful clutches of the pharonic “not same colour” slave masters who have kept them down for so long. I shall wear a galabaya and leather shep shep and I shall play my ipod on loudspeaker “Let my people gooooooooo!”

Sorry.

When it was time to leave, one woman descended on us. Somehow she worked out which one of us was a complete newbie. It just so happened that a good friend of mine from London (originally Paskistani – OMG – did I just say where he is from originally? Ohhh noooo. I’m becoming one of those “Aslan Egyptians” who does not accept that anyone ‘brown’ can possibly be from London – anyway I digress). So my friend from London was leaving when this woman stuffed a baby in his face and began to cry. No not the baby. The woman. My friend was in shock. He just sort of….stood staring. “Kiss the baby” I told him. It took about 15 minutes from that point to get rid of the woman. The rest I can not tell you because I promised him I would not without his permission.  Needless to say, I haven’t laughed so hard in years.

Well thats it. Kay Kay is a wonderful place and one that I finally felt I ought to share. I could regurgitate the history in my own words but I got it from Wiki anyway so I’ll cut and paste. Actually forget that here is a link. This is from Wiki it is not my history. If it is wrong – blame wiki. I came to give you pictures as taken by my sister. Enjoy (They are at the bottom).