Friday, September 02, 2005

Dusting the Jelly Beans


Tracy is tall and skinny. Oh well, we can't all be perfect. She also has a sweet tooth and an appreciation of jelly beans so she was delighted to find that the nut man in Maadi carried jelly beans as well and she buys them by the kilo bag and then puts them in a bowl on my desk so that we all can enjoy them...like I need to be enjoying jelly beans! The red ones are the first to go since both Tracy and I like them best, then the yellow ones, the green ones and the orange ones. The black ones all get eaten by Morad because neither of us like licorice much. We haven't figured out what flavour the green ones are yet...some kind of flowery flavour that isn't lime. The biggest problem with the jelly beans, other than the inherent damage to my diet, is that you have to dust your jelly beans in Egypt if you leave them in an open bowl. So every now and then I find Tracy sitting with a Kleenex dusting her jelly beans. Of course. It makes all the sense in the world.

Monday, August 29, 2005

The Importance Of Being


The new land is moving along these days. Workers spent the last five days putting in pipe to hold the wire mesh fencing around the land and between Tracy's garden and mine. We have roughly 2.5 metre fence set in concrete, not for our security but for our neighbours. Most of the families here raise free-range chickens, geese and ducks, and I can't see myself being able to gently explain to about 15 Rat Terriers that these enticing moving targets are really not to be enjoyed. As well, I like to know that if horses manage to open their paddocks, they aren't going very far. The main road isn't that far away and if one gets out during the night, I'd rather not find that it met a dump truck or something. I've been out walking the land a few times a day to see what all is happening there. The well diggers have the equipment there and started the process of digging our well in the corner near the storage room that is already on site. It will take a couple of days to dig the well since the work is all done by hand and gravity. They set up a tripod over the spot for the well and hoist and then drop a heavy iron pipe in the place. This gradually eats away the soil underneath and excavates a hole that eventually will be about 22 metres deep. The initial few metres are soil, then there is a gravel layer and a rock layer. It's hard work and the men who do it are tough and wiry.
There are still crops on the land and the young men who work for me caring for the horses are busy every day harvesting the corn stalks for the animals. My grey donkey, Margarita, thinks that this work is just fine since she gets to go and stand in the corn eating all she can while Ahmed, Medah, and Saad cut down and stalk the rest in the wagon to be taken home for the other equids and Gameela the Gamoosa. I've also made my first income from the land, a sale of ripe hot peppers for about LE 37.50 (divide by 5.7 for the USD rate). I have masses of the peppers in the house awaiting consumption by the parrots (who adore them) and pickling so that I can torture all my friends by giving them pickled peppers. Torture by fruit and vegetables here is a fine Egyptian farming tradition, as it is in other rural parts of the world. A friend of mine from Vermont tells me that late summer is the only time of the year that her neighbours lock their cars, and that is to keep other neighbours from giving them squash by placing baskets on the front seats. I can understand that. Today I was given a box of mangos by Cristina, my boarder at the paddocks. Her husband is a physics professor at the American University in Cairo, but he is also part owner of an island devoted to mango production and each summer a pickup truck full of crated mangos arrives at Cristina's doorstep so that she can give them away to unsuspecting friends and family. I have to admit that being attacked by a crate of mangos is a pretty decent fate.
Our work seems to be supplying my neighbours with plenty of entertainment. Children wander through to watch the men stretching the wire, farmers stop by to pass time with the well diggers, and everyone is getting used to Morgana the Dane gallumphing her way through the corn stalks in pursuit of Koheila the Dalmation. I fully expect that we will be entertaining the neighbourhood for some time until they decide that we are boring. Plenty of people who build weekend houses out here build brick or stone walls around them for privacy, but the solid walls break up the wind flow, which is so important to everyone's comfort. Tracy and I prefer the wire fencing which is tough enough for dogs and horses and once some interesting vines are planted becomes quite pretty. We'll be choosing the vines in the next week, I imagine. Some bouganvilleia would be nice and there are others that will do a good job. The plants do a double duty of providing some privacy and actually cooling the breeze as the wind cools when it is filtered through the smaller spaces between the leaves. We have a meeting scheduled later this week with a man who helped Hassan Fathy, a famous Egyptian architect who designed buildings using the old techniques of airflow and heat reduction. He will probably be providing the crews to build our houses since we both want to build in as energy-efficient manner as possible. Thank heaven that the summer is ending and the weather is cooling off. Nights are a very comfortable temperature these days and the mornings are misty and cool, reminding me of the early mornings in the high desert valleys of California where I grew up. Funny how the mist on the grass can bring back all the feelings and senses of the first days of classes in high school so many years ago.
This morning I was reading my emails from two riding lists that are based in the US. Many of the posts on both lists were concerned with the welfare of horseowners in the New Orleans area where hurricane Katrina is supposed to hit hard. According to news reports online, as many as a million and a half people have been evacuated from the New Orleans area in preparation for the storm. Evacuating people and household pets is never easy, but for people with larger livestock, the issue of where to go is a serious concern. Other list members in states near Louisiana were posting addresses and phone numbers as well as instructions on how to get to farms and stables where families with horses might be safe. I was trying to explain a hurricane to Sabrine, the seventeen year old from our village who works here helping out around the house. She's seen pictures of snow on television and on my computer and finds it hard to believe that this just happens by itself and then goes away by itself. The concept of a hurricane is pretty hard to digest in a country that essentially has no weather other than warm, chilly and sunny with very occasional showers. But I daresay that the news programs here will have pictures later tonight.
A funny thing happened while I was reading some posts about the Egyptian blogging community. One site was talking about the various blogs and mentioned mine but commented that I tended not to talk about the problems in Egypt although there are plenty, instead painting a sunny picture. The comment rather bothered me, I have to admit, and I've spent some time wondering if I'm being too cheery, but on reflection, I don't think so. I remember the winter of 1967/68 when I was a freshman at the University of California at Berkeley and everyone in my small town in southern California was very, very concerned for my welfare given that there were student riots on campus every day. After all, they saw them on the news every evening...students waving banners and tossing bricks in protest against the war in Viet Nam. The only problem was the fact that I never got to see one single riot because I had an important 12 noon class every day and all the "riots" were at lunch time. There are problems everywhere in the world. I know people who are terribly distessed over the state of government in the US, but they don't spend every waking hour talking and thinking about it. The fact is, the problems in this world get the air time.... disasters, hurricanes, demonstrations, brutality, war, and so on. Most of us live our lives worrying more about whether our kids are going to do well in school, how our jobs are going, whether the dogs have fleas, and how the price of vegetables is rising. Life is pretty mundane and generally quite enjoyable on the whole and I suppose that someone should chronicle the pleasant trivialities. Sure, Egypt has problems. We are in the midst of an "election" that may or may not actually change something. There are police having all sorts of difficulties in the Sinai with people leaving around mines for their cars (not at all a friendly act). Literacy in the villages is still low and disease is still high. But other than maybe the poor sods in the police force who are tiptoeing around the rocks in Sinai hoping not to be blown sky high, most of us are still laughing at children, enjoying the evening freshness, telling jokes, and storing memories as we grow older. No apologies here.

Saturday, August 27, 2005

Other Egyptian Bloggers

I ran across Baheyya's blog while looking up something on the net. That's one of the things that I love about the internet, the serendipitous encounters of ideas and thoughts that are so easy. I get Slate and there was a reference to a blog written by an American in Iraq who is following US forces and writing war stories. Apparently, and not too surprisingly, he is the darling of the right neo-cons....equally unsurprisingly, I wasn't so thrilled with his blog. In the process of checking out Michael Yon's work, I found Baheyya. She's much more political than I am, which is appropriate because she is Egyptian and has much more pertinent comments on the political scene than I do. I highly recommend her. Go check her out.

Thursday, August 25, 2005

Starting The New Place

Well, I have to admit that it doesn't look like much right now, but this is the main building on my land. It's a square room with a door and two windows, but lacking anything that I'm willing to call a roof. The grape vine is in good shape though. We will roof the room, put in doors and windows and connect the electricity to the room to provide electricity for my land. The room itself is going to be a storage for the lawn mower, the garden tools, the bicycle and other miscellaneous objects that I don't want cluttering up the inside of my new house once it gets built.

Yes, I'm definitely excited and I walk over to the land every day to see the progress on the building of the chain link fence that will give my beleaguered neighbours peace of mind and safety from the depredations of the rat pack. If you look very, very, very closely between the grape leaves, you can just barely make out the back of my present house showing through. The horses will be within sight of my rented house by next month. Right now there isn't anything other than my lungs and the threat of becoming cat food to keep the dogs away from my neighbours' poultry, so I will be immensely happy when we finish the fence. I was also happy to learn that ducks are smart enough to play dead when a rat terrier jumps on them. Dead ducks are SO much less exciting.
Cameras do such wonderful things with the size of land. I have 2.5 feddan, which is about 2 acres and my nice little Minolta digital makes the parcel look much bigger, I think. The plot is rectangular with one end on a dirt road and the other behind the hexagonal monstrosity visible at the end in the photo. I have an access to the main road that runs next to the monstrosity's wall just to the left. Right now I'm up to my ears in cornstalks and hot peppers since I had to buy the crops in the fields to begin clearing them for construction. The parrots are delighted with the peppers since they eat them every day and the horses, donkeys and water buffalo are enjoying the cornstalks. In the current summer heat, I can't say that the grooms are enjoying chopping this stuff down, however.
The other end of the land has my duck-owning neighbours. They are a tiny bit less elegant in their living quarters, but they are very nice about the predatory hounds. Morgana the Dane and Terra, my oldest terrier, are exploring the open spaces at that end of the land. There should be horse paddocks in that spot in a month or so. I'm lucky to have a neighbour with a nursery so I can get pretty good size trees for the land at a reasonable price. This whole experience will be an exercise in frugality and I'm exploring local types of architecture and construction. I'm planning a one bedroom house with an office. Most of the space is for the menagerie, with the horses getting the lion's share to mix a zoological metaphor.
Meanwhile, the dogs are having an absolute ball in the irrigation ditches when we visit the land. This ditch runs right behind my rented house. The path that Koheila the Dalmation is looking down passes next to the fence of my current house, the fence covered in morning glory to the left of the path. The main problem with their aquatic play time is that I have to lock them out of the house while they dry off and clean themselves up. If they get into some really disgusting mud, then it is bath time which, for reasons that escape me but probably make perfect sense to a dog, is cruel and unusual punishment. I don't get it. A muddy, smelly canal is a dog's playground, but a bath kills? I think that they might be related to children.

Blogging is Getting Noticed Here?

I don't quite know how to react to this story. On one hand, I think that the flow of information is always a good thing. On the other, given the projections in the article that the government here might become unfriendly to bloggers, I can only hope that the soothsayers are wrong. In the meantime, I don't blog in Arabic and most of what I write can hardly be called political. Lets all hope for the best.

Saturday, August 20, 2005

Political Thoughts on a Saturday

Edward Jay Epstein's Web Log
Found this site through an article on Slate. The writer looks at "data mining", basically ways of analysing data in the systems of various government bodies to come up with people who fit certain criteria. He suggests that researchers apparently did come up with names of people identified as being involved in the World Trade Center disaster more than a year before it happened. Unfortunately, for whatever reasons, not only did no one pay any attention, but later people testified in the 9/11 hearings that the information wasn't there.

The amount of information that can be mined on people who travel these days is, in itself, rather spooky but not altogether a bad thing, I suppose. The fact that no one spoke about it and that the information was a) ignored and b) later denied is even more spooky.

The weather is cooler and clearer today with a wonderful breeze. A two hour ride in the countryside with a good friend and her horse was an absolute blessing. We found ourselves laughing out loud for no other reasons than the wind felt good, the clouds were fluffy and white, and the horses were happy to be moving. Children and farmers who have been wearily dragging themselves through the heat were walking briskly and scampering down the paths and roadways today. I know that there will be more heat before the autumn (such as it is here) hits, but I thank whatever powers may be for such a blessing as this morning. Horses, companionship, and beauty...what more can one want?

Thursday, August 18, 2005

Bureaucracy on a Summer Day


Life demanded a visit to the Maadi Motor Vehicles department today. I didn't actually have to do anything there other than be present with my passport. Other people stood in lines and negotiated with the poor parboiled government employees cooking away in the tin-roofed bungalow fitted with windows for the passing of documents and cash. I fed the avians and drove into "civilisation" to meet the proper people at the gate of the Morour as it's known in Arabic. The Morour is an open courtyard with parking space for cars that must be inspected and some hard chairs in the shade along a wall for people like myself who are waiting for papers to be processed.

Naturally, the papers that I had to sign were in the hands of a young man who was making his way from Heliopolis on the other side of downtown Cairo (where you would see this lovely old building if you were on the overpass to the area near Al Azhar), so having rushed to get to Maadi on time, I had to wait. Normal. He finally showed up, I signed papers and sat down with a copy of William Dalrymple's book City of Djinns about his year in Delhi, India. I'd almost finished the book on the plane home so I figured that this would be a good chance to get to the end of it. I was right. For almost three hours I sat on my chair watching the windows of the offices, reading my book, and being entertained by the activity around me. Thursday is a short day at government offices so the rush was in the morning and gradually activity tapered off as the clocks struck noon and windows began closing.

One of the first people I encountered was a polite young man in a tie and shoes that looked as though they were being held together by black polish. He introduced himself and offered me a pen, which I took rather thoughtfully, not having any need for one at this time. When it became apparent that he was, in fact, selling pens I handed it back explaining that I wasn't in the market for ballpoints at this time. I thought at first that he was one of the ubiquitous "fixers", people who hang around government offices offering to help bewildered folk (especially foreign looking ones) with the bizarre necessities of paperwork in Egypt. I've used their services before and sometimes they are helpful...but then sometimes they are not. Not having any need of an impromptu "fixer" since I had mine in tow, I wasn't too welcoming. When my own gentleman showed up, he knew this young man who had obviously seen Mahmoud on a previous visit to the Morour. As a matter of fact, Mahmoud informed him that his pens were terrible and that he'd never buy one from him again. Oh well.

Once I was installed in a chair between an old man whose son was running back and forth to windows and another older woman who had what seemed to be an employee of some sort helping her with the bureaucracy, I could relax and enjoy the show... and it was a show. Another man in a white shirt, tie, and shoes in rather better repair stopped in front of us with some plastic bags and a brief case. Placing these objects on the table in front of us, he started in on his spiel. First he had a pair of small plastic boxes that could be affixed to a door or window so that when the door or window opened and the boxes were separated, an absolutely ear-splitting racket would emanate from the larger box. He informed us that these high tech security devices sold for at least 5 LE in the stores but that he was selling them for only 3.5 LE (roughly 50 cents US). Wonderful. I was ready to pay him 5 LE to shut the shrieking off. I can't imagine the chaos that would ensue in my house if such a device were to be put on the garden gate for example. Granted, yes I would definitely know if someone opened the gate, but with over a dozen dogs, I usually know anyway. Still, he did manage to sell a couple of them to people next to me.

Then he moved on to his other wonderful products. One of these was a pack of 5 highlighting pens in various colours "perfect for your children in school" and another was a pack of screwdriver tips that could be attached to a handle for any type of screw in the world. The pens were going for 1.5 LE and the screwdriver set for 3.5 LE. Happily for him, he sold a few of them as well. I watched this man work the crowd for the next couple of hours. He'd move from spot to spot as the people on the chairs changed, but his patter never really varied. At one point, the pen man showed up with his defective pens and a more expensive screwdriver set, which apparently Mahmoud had also bought the week before. I think that changing or renewing car licenses can involve expenses that no one really expects with these sidewalk salesmen meandering through the crowds.

Two plus hours is a long time on a summer day. At one point a circulating entrepreneur showed up with a cold Coke which was much appreciated when I'd turned my attention to Dalrymple's Indian narrative. Many of the scenes he described sounded remarkably similar to the things I see, although India appears to be much more crowded, hot and dusty than Egypt in the summer. Sitting under a jacaranda now sporting its twisted green seed pods in place of lavender blooms and commiserating with the motor vehicle employees who I'm sure were quite miserable under their tin roof, Delhi in the summer was a vivid picture. I have some very good friends from Cairo who are in India these days but in the hill country in Musoorie and Ameeta is always after me to visit. I would truly love to but somehow I don't see it in the budget. Another item to add to the "When I win the lottery..." list. I'm sure that the villages in India have these donkey drawn merry go rounds and swings like the ones that we see in the poorer sections of Cairo and in the villages on feast days. I've been assured that there are so many things that are similar between the Egyptian countryside and India from birds to cow manure patties for fuel. These are dried on the roofs here where they provide insulation while on top and can be used for fires when dry.

I was sorry to finish my book but the end of the book came just as the end of the paperwork did and I wasn't at all sorry to see the end of the Motor Vehicle Department. So it was back to Abu Sir where I discovered that we'd only had about four power cuts this morning, rather than day before yesterday's every-five-minute power cuts for most of the day. See? Some things improve over time.