I had the most amazing day on Friday! The American girl that I have been hanging out with (who unfortunately left today to go back to the U.S.) had been teaching an adult class, and two of her students wanted to take her out. She very kindly invited me to go with them. So I went to Montaza and Mamoora, two beaches in the eastern part of Alexandria, with an American girl and 2 Muslim sisters, all of us twenty-somethings. What a crew we were! Both Leyla and Maha wear higab (veil that covers you hair but not your face), but they are not terribly conservative. Maha, the younger, is definitely the more rebellious of the two! Except for their higab and the fact that they were wearing jeans and a jean jacket on a hot summer day, they looked quite Western. I later wished that I had been in jeans like them, but of course I was in a mid-calf-length billowy skirt and linen blouse, which made climbing over fences, riding mopeds and swimming in the Sea slightly more complicated than I would have preferred.
Adventure #1: Climbing over fences
Leyla and Maha decide to scale a fence and join the fishermen on the breakwater for a better view of, well, the water. Christine and I – both in skirts – are a little reluctant, but follow them nonetheless. I notice there is a male guard and a couple of young men watching us intently, probably hoping the wind will come to the aid of our skits in their already somewhat perilous ascent of the gate. And let me clarify that by “perilous ascent” I am talking about a fence that is maybe 3 feet high. Anyways, we no sooner get over when who comes along but the guard! The guard who has been watching us this whole time and yet conveniently waits until we are on the other side of the fence to inform us that we need a fisherman’s permit to be over there. Right, so now not only do we have to climb back over, but the commotion that has been caused by him barking at us in Arabic and us looking bewilderedly over at Leyla and Maha has called a small, yet significant, crowd of half-naked men in their swimsuits to the scene. All are sweaty, shiny-haired, less than a meter away, and blatantly staring at us. We watch Leyla and Maha hop over nimbly in their jeans. “Mashee, mashee! come on, it’s easy!” they say. Christine and I look at each other and know there is nothing we can do but give it our best and laugh nervously, in hopes of getting half the amusement that the men are getting for ourselves. I think we succeeded. In being amused, that is. Or maybe even hysterical.
Adventure #2: Riding mopeds
This was Leyla's idea. And these were not just any mopeds: they were mini-mopeds. For children. But no matter; we were obviously going to ride them anyway. Except Leyla. Who chickened out at the last minute. Funny since she was the reason we were doing this in the first place. Maylish, oh well. So off we go bumping and skidding down the crowded Corniche, frantically dodging small children, teenage girls in tanktops (which would never be permitted anywhere but on the beach) and even some women in full burka (full black robes with veils covering their faces and even sometimes their eyes. Some of these women even wear gloves). The best part was either that the mopeds had no breaks or that two young boys chased after me for maybe five minutes, shouting in English, “Do you speak Arabic? Do you speak Arabic?”
Adventure #3: Swimming in the Mediterranean
I have to admit I didn’t think I’d actually get to swim in the Mediterranean. I also have to admit that I never thought I’d go swimming fully clothed. Well now I’ve done both. Maha donned a t-shirt and a pair of knee-length boarding shorts for the occasion (and also took off her hiagb!), and Leyla opted to stay onshore, but Christine and I – who had only the clothes on our back – decided that this was far too small an obstacle to stand between us and the water on a hot summer day in Egypt. So we stumbled through the salty pummeling waves and throngs of men and children and a handful of women and into the Sea! My skirt instantly transformed into a transparent deadweight that either flew up over my head or got suctioned down to my ankles with each passing wave. I couldn’t help but wonder if it wouldn’t have been less scandalous to just take it off, since it was obviously causing more trouble than it was worth, but when I looked over at Christine I knew she was having the same problem and all we could do was laugh. From that moment, I don’t think I stopped laughing, even when I was underwater. Utterly ridiculous isn’t quite an accurate description.
Then we sat on the beach amidst the sea of white plastic chairs and Coca Cola umbrellas (it is considered haraam, or against Islam, to lie on the ground) and watched the little children running around, the men playing paddle ball in close quarters, whacking the ball with all their might as though they were competing in an Olympic sport, old women with their chairs in the water, their long robes floating carelessly in the water, and a scattering of women in “burkinis,” or loose-fitting bodysuits with nylon bathing caps for Muslim women athletes.
Adventure #4: Smoking a hookah
Which women aren’t really supposed to do, but there are those that do. Because a hookah is a water pipe, in Arabic you actually say you are “drinking” instead of “smoking.” Sheesha is the tobacco you smoke in a hookah, not to be confused with hasheesh, which is not tobacco.
Adventure #5: Leyla and Maha's house
Leyla and Maha live on the 9th floor and there is no elevator. Phew. They live with their mother, who is a dear and speaks no English so I am hoping if I hang out with them more often I can try to speak Arabic with them. I definitely need to work on my Arabic, because even if I have a rudimentary understanding of Standard Arabic, I know virtually no Egyptian Arabic, and the two are very different. So far, with Leyla and Maha we have been communicating in English, mostly because Christine was their English teacher and also because I don’t even want to think about how all of our crazy adventures would have turned out had they been in Arabic. But that is something to work towards.
For dinner we had sugary fatir (sort of like fried dough) and guava juice. Then they showed us pictures of their brother, who is a construction worker in Jordan. They originally wanted Christine to marry him, but now that she is gone, I am wondering if I am going to become the next available candidate. Their cousin Ahmad also wants to marry me. I have already told them that I have a boyfriend but I have been toying with the idea of telling them that we got married last night over the phone just in case…
Both Leyla and Maha have been engaged and broken off the engagement. From what I can tell, they would have been arranged marriages. Their mother divorced their father. Women are allowed to divorce but they have to give up everything.
More stories later. I have to go plan for my children’s class tomorrow. I’ve had a couple of days to recover and am hoping that class will go better next week. A huge thank you to anyone who sent me some discipline ideas; it was very encouraging and wonderful to have the support. I have also heard that most of the teachers at Amideast cried and thought they shouldn’t be teachers within their first week of teaching kids’ classes, so I am feeling a little better about that. I will let everyone know how it goes this week.
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