“Welcome in Egypt,” A Journal

Part 2

By A’isha Azar

Ó 2008

 

April 21- The Egyptian Museum and Tallat Harb

            We are in the Egyptian Museum in Cairo. I am completely overwhelmed by the sheer wonder of the things here. There is not one huge or tiny item that does not speak of a people who had an innate understanding of the esthetics and importance of beauty. The fact that everything is so very old only works to inspire deeper awe in me. To see, up close and personal, the intricate details in stone, telling the stories of the lives of the early Egyptians is something that leaves the viewer speechless even thousands of years later. Were they aware like we are, of the incredible things they had, or was it just common everyday life for them? Did the average person on the street look in amazement on what his or her people created?
 
           

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cairo Museum: Hallah on the left and a policeman photo sans baksheesh!

 

On a twelve by fifteen inch piece of stone, one can witness a face with eye make-up, expertly carved, carefully painted, a long hand cupped gently in offering, the complex braid on the head of child. It is breathtakingly lovely. There are intricately carved things, so small that they must be viewed through a magnifying glass, and they hold this same magic in them. It is incredible in here!!

            Hallah does not like to see the mummies and I am okay with that. She feels that they would not like to be gawked at by so many and that there is a great deal that is disrespectful about going and staring at them. I think, on the other hand, that these kings and queens had people working  countless eras of time on monuments, statues, caskets, funerary rituals, and all other aspects of their lives to the end purpose of their being able to live forever. Have they not actually achieved that through the constant stream of visitors who come to see them in this distant future?

            As we leave, I ask a group of  policemen if I can take their pictures. Not without baksheesh ! So, I sneak one of a single officer of the law standing next to an outdoor museum piece. Bad, bad A’isha!!  What can I say? A bit of the radical outlaw stays with me wherever I am.

Ahmed, our driver has another job this afternoon, so I get my first and only ride in one of the black and white taxis that are everywhere in Cairo. (In Alexandria they are black and yellow.)  We race across the Corniche from the Cairo Hilton, taking our lives in our hands just like the other people who are dodging traffic. Hallah feels the need to  haul me across as if I were a child in her protection. It makes me feel very loved!

 
 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Along the Corniche and the Nile

She hails a taxi and we get in, the driver getting out to help the Madames into the back seat. The car is a square, denty and old looking, and the same as driven by many other taxi  drivers, but our driver is my immediate favorite. Just like many of the apartments that I have visited in Egypt, the car does not look like much from the outside, but inside it is clean and there are homey touches that the driver has put up; a Khamsa 

(Hand of Fatima) for protection against the evil eye, a photo of someone and a postcard from a place that looks vaguely European, among other personal effects. Our driver is named Ali and he lets me take his picture only after I promise that I want to do it because I like him and all Egyptians and not to make fun of him when I go home, as he fears some Americans do. Ali is attending university and hopes to  go into translation or some similar work for the government. He speaks really great English and I tell him so, which pleases him immensely. By the time we part in the Wist il Beled, (downtown), we are great friends and wish each other the best of lives all around. This man knows how to get great baksheesh!

            And, oh my god, here we are in the Tallat Harb, the name of the shoe souk! Two  very long streets with shoes, shoes SHOES!!!!!!!!! Hallah and I are both positively fetishists about them. We walk through the streets and look in the windows, deciding where to spend our money first. I am in awe and wonder at the sheer volume of shoes. The storeowners come out and tell us that their shoes are of superior quality, more beautiful and just the right size for us. At our first stop, we both come out with purple mules, Prada knockoffs that we adore!!  We look fabulous in them! We often have ended up buying the same shoes. When we lived in the same town, we sometimes would buy them in different colors so we could borrow from each other!

            In the next store, I buy three pairs of sandals in a style of which I am particularly fond, with toe loops. I love the men’s sandals in this style, but they are all too big for me. I buy some sandals for my husband, daughter and a friend as well. My suitcase will be filled with shoes when I go home.

            We stroll by a store and I am particularly taken with a desert boot that is for me. I NEED a pair of these shoes. The owner sees my intense interest and he comes over to see what I want. I try to make him understand that I want to buy some of these shoes in a small size for myself. He does not comprehend because it is beyond his belief system that a woman would want men’s shoes for herself. He does not understand and I am not sure what to say in my extremely limited Arabic. Hallah is not sure either. A young man comes to my rescue, asking if he can be of assistance. His English is very good and he explains to the shopkeeper what I want. They have a little argument as the owner wants to make very sure that our interpreter understands me, and then he gives me a last look and goes off to find the shoes in a size that might fit me. As I try them on, and fall madly in love, (Yes!! They fit!!), our new friend explains that he teaches English at secondary school. He has been to America once and liked it very much. I tell him how much I am enjoying my stay in Cairo and thank him profusely for his help.

            There are two young, lovely cashiers who are discussing me in terms not so glowing, as they think I am a ridiculous American who can not tell women’s and men’s shoes apart. As Hallah says, “The girls here are very girly”. Men’s attire is not even considered wearable. Hallah lets it be known that she understands them and cautions them to behave. “Baratic!”, “Watch it”. They get the curt, succinct message and with that one word, they fully understand the implication that if we get mad and leave, their boss will lose a sale and he will be very upset at them for their behavior. I pay for my two new pairs of wonderful desert boots and off we go.

            We are rather hot and tired by now, and stop at a store where we buy Egyptian ice cream. It is made from water buffalo milk, Hallah tells me, and it has a strongish, sweet taste. It is a little too sweet and I look for a trashcan to throw it away, because the whole do not litter thing is so ingrained in my American brain. There is no place to throw the ice cream and it causes a little dilemma for me. I can NOT just throw it on the ground and walk away, even though there is a lot of trash around. It is just not something I can do. It is amazing what odd ethnocentric behaviors catch up with us in foreign places! I finally put it on a square metal box that is next to a store we are going into, and feel pretty weird about it, but what can I do? We each buy a pair of sandals and when we come out, there is a young boy sitting by the box, eating the ice cream.  Sometimes not having a trash can is not so bad, after all!!

            We also stop off at the pharmacy and get some ointment for the insect bites that are beginning to be a real problem for me. I do not know what is biting me, but it is not going away. I have never actually seen the bug that is finding me so delicious, and Hallah is not being bitten at all. I am getting rather nervous and unhappy about it.  Hallah tells me that you can buy practically any drug over the counter here, except for the most narcotic of pain killers. She says that the pharmacists here are also often doctors as well. I am given an ointment that has Arabic writing on it and a small explanation in English. I also refuse some insect repellant as I am not sure what is in it and I worry about having an asthma attack if I am covered in it. I have been so fortunate not to develop any of the digestive ailments that many people get while visiting a foreign country. Hallah states that this is blessing much better than I can comprehend! It’s so funny that I never have so much as a tiny tummy ache the whole time I am in Egypt, but I get eaten alive! I hope some bugs somewhere are getting what they deserve in terms of eating foreign meat!

            We end our trip to the Tallat Harb with coffee at Gioppi. This establishment was the swinging hot spot for colonials in the late 1800s and the early 1900s. It has been in constant service since then. Cairo is a city that has so much history both ancient and modern. Everywhere one goes, there is something of interest in the global scheme of life.

 

 

 

April 22nd- A day at home

Hallah is off to work, but I am staying home today. I have either been bitten by a lot of insects or I am developing hives or something not too good.  These little bumps itch and turn into big welts. I have them on my feet, arms and legs and upper back.  Last night I took a bath in vinegar water and then slathered myself with Skin So Soft and treated my bites with the ointment that I bought which says in English “Insect bite” and “Antialergic and soothing agent”. It is wonderful; and stops the itch almost immediately as well as forming a sort of skin over the wounds.  I also moved to sleep in another room where it is cooler in case it is a heat rash or there are insects of some sort in my old room. There are so many bites on my feet that I really can not wear shoes today.

            I will stay at home  and write postcards as all good visitors to Egypt must, to send home to family and friends. I take the opportunity to watch Arab television. I can look out on the city and see what appears to be millions of satellite dishes on roofs and balconies. Hallah picks up stations all over the Arab world. I start out by watching Fashion Arabia and WOW music videos to get some ideas for my dance company.

            I see part of a concert with Abdulmajid Abdullah, one of my favorites of the Saudi and Gulf singers. His orchestra is huge! Just the clapping section alone looks like twenty or so men. They accompany him by clapping out complex rhythms and patterns in good Gulf form. I love the clapping, I admit. Some years ago I met several young men from the Gulf who taught me how to hold my hands just so to get that clean sound one hears in the music. I have never seen women clap just exactly like that, but I like to do it anyway!  Abdulmajid’s voice is so wonderful and to see him singing, even on video, has always been a special treat for me.

            Then there are a wide array of music videos; some good and some, well, just plain second rate and tawdry in everything from musical quality to costuming to the action on camera. The set starts with a “California Girl” type, dancing to a very mediocre Shaabi song in a coffee house setting. I am amazed at some of the videos and how they are presented, seemingly without rhyme or reason. One minute, the television screen is showing the viewer a half dressed blonde dancing quite suggestively to a song with no texture, boring rhythm, little orchestration sung by a really quite average singer.  This will be followed by film of a very Arab full orchestra dressed in traditional clothing, performing seriously complex and intense music.  This might be followed by a truly decent Lebanese or Egyptian pop song with some really good dancing and interesting action.  The most common theme of course is love, love, love!

All in all, watching Arabian television is not a bad way to spend my incarceration. I get some good ideas to expand on for the dance company and get to see what is really going on in the world of Arab music, up to the minute!  And, I get all my postcards written! Hopefully I can put on shoes tomorrow.

 

 

 

April 23rd- A zeffa  nearby

            Hallah and I are walking over to the shop this morning, where she will give out some instructions and get some other work done. I bring along a project I brought from home to work on.

            On the way over, I see a sight that makes me itch to take a photo. Out of respect, of course I can not, but if I could, it would so much describe exactly what Egypt is like in its soul! As we cross the street, walking before us and then in front of us is a beautiful, grizzled old man with gray beard and bronzed skin, lined with age and the sun. His head is covered with a piece of tannish cloth, wrapped casually in turban style and quite close to his head. He is wearing a blue gelebiyeh with long, full sleeves, and under that a tighter long sleeved, oldish shirt that was probably once white. The ribbed collar shows above the gelebiyeh and the shirt looks rather like thermal underwear. His gelebiyeh is full and I can not see under it at all, except when my eye reaches his feet. He is wearing sandals that look like they might be made of some kind of rope, with a brownish gray sole and his leathery heels peek out at me now and again. He does not turn back to look at us. But his companion turns frequently to ponder who these foreigners might be.  She is young, perhaps twelve or thirteen, and if I were to guess, I would say she is his granddaughter. She is lovely, has a candid question in her eyes and can not resist turning to gaze at us. Her hair is covered with a shaal and bits of lustrous dark curl appear here and there. She is completely covered…. In a tan long sleeved T-shirt that fits like a glove. Over this is a tiny pink cap sleeved Tee that hugs her body. She is wearing camouflage colored tight little jeans that fit down below her ankle and rather puddle onto her footwear, which are twinkly athletic shoes. They are so wonderful together and speak volumes about their country, which is so much the ancient and the modern side by side. They are so right! They turn into the same alley that Hallah’s shop is in. Grandfather and granddaughter are the human element in this alley where we see the dirt street, the feral cats and the trash, taking up space beside the modern Mercedes and the Coca Cola cans. The young and the old walk side by side on every level in Egypt.

            The heat has been pretty intense for the last three days and everyone is saying that it is here much earlier than usual. They have hopes for it cooling down again. By 5:00 P.M., it actually looks like it might rain as Hallah and I head back to her flat. A delicious breeze begins to blow. It’s not a Khamsin, but it does indeed stir up the dust.  Who cares? Open all the doors and windows!!

Tonight there is a zeffa, or wedding celebration in a building across the street and up the alley. We can see the entrance from Hallah’s balcony and it is decorated with colored chaser lights in an archway pattern, just off the street. A live band is playing and singing! They sound fabulous and we hang over the balcony wall in order to enjoy it more. Mother Nature is supplying her own fireworks for the occasion with heat lightening and the occasional clap of thunder. It goes quite nicely with the sound of the guns being fired at the wedding…. in the City. (Ola and Ahmed explain to me in the morning that it is tradition and guns must simply be fired at weddings!) The moon is full and the night is wonderful, with a breeze and clouds scuttling by overhead. I am not sure the wedding guests can be enjoying themselves any more than we are! Hallah swears she felt three drops of rain just now. On this glorious occasion, maybe it is tears of joy blowing over from the zeffa!

We reluctantly go inside, but its okay since I get a class in belly dance from Hallah. She was married to an Egyptian oud player at one time, who came from a long line of musicians and she learned to listen and respond to music in an Egyptian way from him. I note that she is a more lyrical dancer than I remember and that she has nuance and an understanding of music as a part of the whole. She teaches me a few of Randa’s movements and patterns. I feel a little bit better about not getting a class with Randa, who is my favorite of the new Egyptian dancers.

 

 

 

April 25th-  A soiree at Liza Laziza’s home

            This morning as I stand on the balcony for my usual morning view of the Great Pyramid, I spy a donkey a couple of streets over, making a fine getaway. He trots swiftly and purposefully on his little legs, up the street. He looks as if he is thinking. “Free at last, and no one can make me go back!”. He and a Beledi dog face each other for a minute, each making the decision not to provoke the other, and they go their separate ways. I blow him a kiss and mosey inside to fill my coffee cup.

            Hallah has been trying for over a week to get in touch with Randa, or at least find out where she is dancing. My one dance goal while I have been  in Egypt is to take a class from Randa, or at least see her perform in person. She is not dancing at the hotel where she usually performs. Esmahan is there right now. She also is not advertised to be dancing on the boat, either. ( It turns out that another dancer did see her on the boat when it was advertised that Esmahan was dancing!)  With Randa, for me nothing seems to be happening and I am getting resigned to that. Hallah has done her best and even Liza Laziza has been trying to help. I am seriously disappointed, but there has been so much that is wonderful about my stay in Egypt that I cannot find it in me to feel too bitter about it.

            Hallah and  I are invited to a soiree at the home of Liza  this evening! Liza lives in Cairo and is currently a featured dancer at the Marriott down by the Pyramids. She has performed in Cairo for the last ten years and has just had her contract renewed, as well she should have because she is  fabulous!

            Liza has been a fixture in the Cairo dance community for long enough to have ties to  the famous and the infamous. She taught and performed and was Mistress of ceremonies at the Nile Festival this year. She is delightful and charming, intelligent and beautiful, and has an upper class English accent to boot! From what I hear from a couple of the dancers who attended her class at the festival, she is also a wonderful teacher,

 ( Hello Stella and Maariku!!), caring, attentive and knows how to pass on her knowledge

She has invited about twenty-five  people for tonight. Many of the guests are a group from France who have come to her for classes here in Cairo. There is also Ula from Finland, Keisha from Korea via Pittsburgh, USA, a famous Egyptian composer and his wife, a Persian diplomat, Michelle, the wife of an Egyptian native, Hallah and I, and a few other people including her agent

Liza is going to be working with a new takht. The takht is a small Arab orchestra consisting of traditional instruments for the most part. Tonight the accordion is the only exception to the rule. The band plays deff and tar ( tambourine and hand held drum), nai or flute, sagat ( finger cymbals), and oud, the Arab version of the lute. The music is divine. Liza dances two sets and we all adore her. Her dancing is feminine and delicate and she is charming and flirtatious. Her movements are never overdone, yet they are clean and beautifully executed. She is very emotionally attached to the music and often sings along or get immersed in it. Her costumes are gorgeous. They are both Hallah designs. One is a white bra and belt set encrusted in pearls and Sworovsky crystals  over shirred fabric, with a beautiful dip in the center on both back and front of the belt. The other is a great combination of old and new, with tulle bi telli, better known as assuit, as its base. She has beaded the costume with blue and there are some intriguing arm accessories as well. Liza has some CDs on the market by the way, and they are very nice!

            During the course of the evening we are served a sumptuous Egyptian buffet. There is chicken and beef prepared wonderfully, and a perfectly spiced rice dish as well as vegetables prepared in so many ways. It is all too delicious, and it is topped off by ice cream later in the evening.

We all get to get up and take a turn dancing with the band!! This is a highlight of my trip to Egypt because I have always dreamed of working with just such a band, and yes, it is pure magic. No one understands belly dance music like the Egyptians!!!! Later we are treated to the composer’s work on the oud and he plays with the band for some time, making the evening complete.

 

 

 
 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Liza with her takht

 

It is the end of a wonderful time, and we say our goodbyes with reluctance. We want to stay and play all night!!  We find Ahmed our driver waiting for us in front of Liza’s apartment building . We tip a policeman, resplendent in his white uniform even at  2:00 A.M.   After all, he HAS just opened our car doors for us!

            Michelle is an old friend of Hallah’s and she grabs a ride with us. Ahmed knows where to go and Michelle says we are about to enter “Beledi Cairo”. We pass the rows of shops, looking like a thousand year old version of a strip mall that goes on forever into the night. They are little hovels and dingy shops, many with corrugated aluminum pull down doors, all strung together amid the piles of rubble and garbage, the lot covered with a layer of desert sand. Though it is 2:30 in the morning, shop keepers sit in their doorways and we can look into their stores by the light of bare bulbs hung from exposed wiring. I look into a shop as we slow for some traffic impediment.  I see the handsome men in their gelebiyehs, sitting and conversing, drinking tea and smoking shisha in the hard light. The bare bulb is a common arrangement, seen even in some homes I have visited. Hallah says it is because so many renters remove even the light fixtures when they go. Landlords do not replace them or repair the damage in many flats. Hallah  is slowly replacing her own bare wires with lovely lighting.

            We pass a dog standing on some rubble. I have heard dogs barking, fighting, screaming in the night and early morning every day that I have been  in Egypt. Feral dogs are everywhere and they can be very dangerous. Hallah’s friend Sabina has been attacked twice. Until tonight though they have mostly just been seen and not heard. Unlike the cats, I have seen just a few dogs. One was moving along at a good pace in the street, one was limping near the store where Hallah buys pottery, and one was dead, covered with insects and swollen with heat in the alley near her shop. The beledi dogs are out tonight in this neighborhood. They are nosing through garbage or walking along the road.

            This is Cairo. Even at 2:30 in the morning, people are out and about. They walk on the streets or drive along with us in their vehicles.  I see a young child playing in a yard in front of one of the shops. I see people who seem to be open for business. Cairo just never seems to sleep.

 

 

April 26th- My last day in Egypt: brunch and Tanoura

            Ahmed arrives at 11:30 to take us to lunch at Hossam and Sabina’s home. They live in their new apartment on the other side of the Pyramids, in Giza. The complex is quite new and beautiful. Their place has a beautiful arched gateway and a small yard. They have four rescued tortoises of various ages and sizes. They are munching their breakfast of several different kinds of lettuce. The yard is very tiny, but it has two patio areas. One has a roof and valance and the other has a valance, all woven from some kind of large rough looking plant stalks. Hossam explains that this is the henna plant, dried, and the stalks are woven in place by the people who do this work for a living. Henna is such a magic plant, with properties and uses beyond what I can imagine. We can dye our hair with the leaves, make tattoos both temporary and permanent, dye fabrics, make roofs, and who knows what else!  Below is the Henna roof.
 
           

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hossam and Sabina own the most modern and newest home I have been into in Egypt. Since they are first owners, all of the electrical fixtures are in place, and the toilets have all of their parts working. They have the flusher in the middle of the top of the lid, as at Hallah’s apartment. I have seen a diversity of toilets and bidets in Egypt and each seems to have its own set of quirks, different flushing devices, etc. In the States we generally get the flusher on the side front or the electronic flusher and that’s it. It’s a whole new plumbing world here and for some reason I am  intrigued by that.

The house is calm and cool, decorated in modern style with cool colors and the occasional bright splash in artwork or furnishing. The place is just beautiful.

            For brunch, we  going up to the guest studio. Sabina and Hossam bought a rooftop studio with a lovely  large balcony.  The studio is windows from floor to ceiling on two sides, looking out and down to the pyramids. Right now the view is completely unobstructed and they are hoping no one builds an apartment higher than theirs in  front of them. The studio apartment is large and colorful. Lovely light curtains are pulled back so we can enjoy the view. There is a comfy couch and a round dining room table with a pretty cloth, beautiful plates and good things to eat.  There is  a little galley kitchen and a bathroom in behind it ( where all the plumbing is in order!)

We have a wonderful brunch with both German and Egyptian accents! There are several kinds of breads, cheeses and meats, honey from the Delta and an assortment of nuts and chocolates. We drink good coffee with brunch and have a glass of Egyptian wine after. Theirs is a mixed marriage and Sabina and Hossam bring the best of their cultures to the table!

            We listen to music; everything from Feiruz, to Tracy Chapman and Luciano Pavarotti doing a duet together, and I am not making that up! Hallah, Sabina and Hossam treat me to a rousing version of the Eagles’ “Hotel California” and I pronounce them ready for the road!

            Hossam is a maxilofacial surgeon and he is one of those doctors who spends much of his time fixing the deformities of Third World Children, without pay. He has recently returned from working under just such conditions and will be off next week to lecture in another country. He is a brilliant man married to a brilliant woman. Sabina works for a German news group in Egypt and she is well informed and intelligent. We get into a discussion about the social problems of Egypt. They both feel that Sadat was assassinated because he had an actual plan for working to solve the poverty issue here. However, his plans would have upset the apple carts of a few very wealthy and powerful citizens. We talk about the rubble, the trash and the poverty that is easy to see in most of Egypt except places where the tourists gather. We agree that living at or below human subsistence level does not really allow a person to think about how things could be different. In college I did a paper on the effects of continuous severe poverty and how it begins to create a kind of person who lives much like a feral animal, with only survival as the main need. Hossam says that this kind of thinking is rampant here.

            I had once read something about the Child finders of the cities of Egypt. I wondered if it was true when I read it; it seemed so hideous. Hossam explains that among the poor it is not all that uncommon for a child to turn up missing. They are sometimes kidnapped by vile people who maim them and set them to work begging. They are  hurt, hungry, beaten, sick and helpless, and people give them money. All they collect is taken away from them by the kidnappers. He says these children often die, but they are easily replaced. The child finders are real and they seem to have a knack for locating the children and rescuing them, but it is a complete shame that there is a need for a service like this.

            We talk about the incredible music of Egypt and the Arabs in general.  Hossam admits that quite often he does not know the words to many songs because it is the music itself that draws him in, holds his attention and thrills his soul. I can relate because my Arabic is pretty limited.

            I create a new dessert! Walnuts dipped in Egyptian honey! This honey is so sublime and is the product of a certain bee keeper that Sabina knows. Her father keeps bees as well, so she knows her honey, and it is truly the best I have ever, ever tasted. The stuff is like melted sunshine on my tongue. Hossam so likes the walnuts dipped in honey that he puts the nuts right into the jar !

            All too soon it is time for us to leave. Ahmed has called to let us know he is waiting for us downstairs and we are off to the Tanoura.

 

 

In a very old building by the Khan el Khalili people are going inside to see the Tanoura, the spinning ritual of the Sufis of Egypt. Hallah says the building is from about the 1400s and was a public building of some sort, not a mosque. While there is no charge, a donation is gladly accepted. The Sufis have morphed the ritual into a stage production fit to be referred to as entertainment. Hallah assures me that everyone on the platform and in the archways on the second floor above the stage are all real Sufis. They play Saidi style music instead of the gentle music of the Mevlevi Sufis of Turkey and Iran.  In the balcony we see robed, turbaned men playing tar, nai and  rebab.

            The ritual opens with the main body of the group introducing their instruments one by one. There are  finger cymbals, tars, deffs, a large drum whose name I do not know, and mizwich. The music is too wonderful! The cymbal player is amazing and his sagat are huge. He is one of the highlights of the  ritual.

            We have an interlude of music while the spinners don their beautiful skirts. One spinner takes the center stage for half an hour while the others play music and occasionally join him with Zarr like movements or spinning along with him. Much of it seems choreographed, but what of the man who seems truly in ecstasy? He seems to be no longer following the main plan and is having his own private spiritual experience, separate from what ever else is going on the platform.

            The main spinner eventually winds down and he removes his heavy skirts, creating colorful circles with patterns above his head. It is amazing that he also folds his garments while spinning. When he finally stops dead still, he does not stagger or fall, or look the least bit dizzy or disoriented. He is also a man with a beautiful, beatific face and there is a light around him that is hard to describe. I feel that this is not my imagination. I have some experience with Zarr and he looks like I feel after performing that ritual. There is a peacefulness and calm that is hard to imagine as a brain response to that particular kind of movement.

            The Tanoura ritual is profound even when it poses as entertainment. There is something magical about it. Adapted fro, the rituals of the Mevlevi Sufi, it has taken on its own particularly Egyptian characteristics, and there is even a joy and merriment here of particular cultural significance that might not be witnessed in any other religious ritual in the world.

            Soon a group of spinners takes the stage wearing yellow or green tunics and shalwar and two skirts each. They spin and create an illusion of a lot of colorful spinning tops as the geometric designs on their skirts create patterns and concepts in color. They remove and fold one skirt while keeping the other spinning above their heads. They spin and spin the heavy skirts above their heads while standing in place, or turn with just their heads sticking out of the center of the skirts, like the middle of flowers. They sit, do the splits, lay down flat on the floor with the skirt no higher off the ground than the length of their arms from the elbow down. They spin and spin the skirts to the rhythm and melody of the Saidi sounds that are probably older than the ritual.
 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Tanoura

 

When the Tanoura is over we all express awe at what we have just witnessed. I wonder as

we leave what the Tanoura is like when there is no audience, just the holy men with their music, spinning, spinning, spinning.

 

 

April 27th- Goodbye to Egypt

            It is time for me to leave. I  tell Hallah to go back to bed and kiss her and say goodbye. Ahmed has come up to take my suitcases, and surprise!! When we get to the car, Ola has come with him to say goodbye as well! I am so touched by this as I love her immensely and am happy that she feels the same! As I get into the car, Ola hands me a gift bag she says, “something to remember us”, as if I could forget them! I exchange with her, passing an envelope with a token of my appreciation in the form of money and a note telling her and Ahmed how much they have made my trip to Egypt wonderful! I also intend to send presents from America to one and all once I get home.  Inside the gift bag are two large charms for my protection and health! One is shaped like a scimitar about 6 inches long, gold with beautiful big blue beads. It says, “May Allah protect you”. The other is a khamza in the same style that says “There is no God but God”. I love them both!

At the airport we hug and kiss and promise to meet again. Ahmed gives a guy baksheesh to take good care of me. In the airport I have a little discussion with the man helping me with my bags. He is trying to convince me that I, too must give him baksheesh because Ahmed did not give him enough for such heavy work. I give him a disparaging look and he leaves and I move myself further up the line.

            When I get to the ticket counter, I am dealing with such a good-looking man who has the most pleasant manners. We conclude our business and I go along to have my currency changed, though I keep a few pound coins , which I think are so beautiful. I have only a short wait before I am aboard British Airways and on my way home. I fondly remember the first time I heard the enthusiastic greeting “Welcome in Egypt!”