Looking for the Bookstore

Egyptian Museum, Cairo, a photo by ibischild on Flickr. 
I walked along this side of the building many times, in the belief that this was the way through Tahrir Square to the American University Bookstore. As you know, it is the way to Tahrir Square. But the bookstore?...

Being obstinate, my two new guest-house friends and I made another trip to Tahrir Square. [You can read about our first Tahrir-Square trip here.]  Once again we shlepped on foot over the bridge, with vehicles zooming by, and along past the Egyptian Museum, somehow surviving the July heat and humidity. They were looking for the American University Library, and I was looking for the American University Bookstore. Both institutions are supposed to be in a street (though probably not the same street) somewhere just off Tahrir Square.

After a sweaty trek around the Square, we explored various side streets, following the advice of various kind people who tried to point us in the right direction. Finally, we asked directions of a couple of policemen, who kindly led us to a shabby-looking once-genteel building, with a sign declaring it to be the home of the American University's rare book collection. The policemen said the building would be open on Thursday. But it looked as if that specialized library, too, had long ago moved to the new campus on the hot northeastern edge of town. So, after a refreshing stop in an air-conditioned cafe, we shared a taxi back to our guest house. Thwarted a second time.

Not to be defeated, on another day I took at taxi to Tahrir Square. Forget those folks from the guest house, I thought. Surely the taxi driver will know the location of the American University Bookstore. (And I was sick of walking, a mile or more each way, on hard baking sidewalks!)

The taxi driver took me to the intersection where the bookstore should have been, he thought. But it wasn't there. Various pedestrians and policemen tried to help me, pointing me in various directions. No sign of a bookstore anywhere.

So please don't go to Tahrir Square looking for anything connected to American University in Cairo. There is one precinct that may contain some University offices or something like that. Otherwise, it's all moved out to the new campus beyond the ring road, I believe. [Please tell me if I'm wrong!]

Crossing Tahrir Square

Late one morning, I set out with two friends. My goal was the American University bookstore, which I have never seen but believe to be an Egyptological paradise.Their goal was the American University library.

"Only 20 minutes' walk," they said. So we schlepped across the 6 October Bridge and found our way down to ground level and along the riverside and somehow ended up outside the Egyptian Museum.

My companions wanted to go around the perimeter of the Square. I thought we might as well cut across. After all, there were just a few tents on the huge paved island in the middle of the Square. Really, nothing happening on this hot lunchtime in Ramadan.

A thought flitted across my mind. "Hallowed ground."
"It's just a shortcut," I reassured myself.

Luxor graffiti
These painted angels commemorate the people who died fighting for freedom during Egypt's January 25 Revolution last year.

And so we crossed the road and and began making our way across the heart of Tahrir Square. After one or two steps, or maybe half a dozen, I began to have the strangest feeling.

The only time I felt a similar feeling was driving along Route 30 in rural Pennsylavania. I'd just driven through the town center of Gettysburg and was driving across an enormous open green space.  And I began to have a more and more peculiar feeling. Could it be? And then I saw the monument and knew that it was. Gettysburg battlefield. What I felt was the presence of dead heroes.

In his famous address at Gettysburg, Abraham Lincoln said,  "...we cannot dedicate--we cannot consecrate--we cannot hallow--this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it..."

Gettysburg Battlefield is haunted with the ghosts or angels of the brave folk who died there for the cause. Tahrir Square is haunted, too.

Tahrir Hope

Tahrir square, Cairo, a photo by ibischild on Flickr.
A tranquil scene! A street branching off from Tahrir Square. Serene green leaves and a beautiful old apartment building, and sleepy Ramadan shops below.
The perfect backdrop to our blog post!

From the UK embassy, Thom Reilly could hear the tumult of Tahrir Square. Here in Luxor, hundreds of miles upriver from Cairo, things were less tumultuous. The revolution mostly unfolded on our TV screens.

Thom Reilly is the UK Deputy Ambassador to Egypt. He is stepping down, and will miss Egypt:
Hope - Thom Reilly

I wholeheartedly agree with this assessment of the last 2 years in Egypt: 
Living in Egypt through this time has felt like a voyage down an angry river: with every bend I had hoped for a smooth patch of water, yet round every bend there were only more rapids. Yet now, suddenly, Egypt feels as if she may have found a patch of smooth water. How lucky I have been and how privileged to have shared this most remarkable voyage with Egypt.

And now, as the Deputy Ambassador says, there's so much work to be done. Labors of Hercules. Working together, Egyptians can do it.
Inch'Allah.

Have fun! And don't litter!

Couldn't resist sharing this fun video!
CONO Amusement Park TVC اعلان كونو الملاهي - كونو متفائلين - YouTube

You'll recognize the pyramids and the Nile, then Tahrir Square.
Egyptian Museum.
Karnak temple.
Hatshepsut's temple.

At the end, the man says, "Masr beledna helw--Our country Egypt is beautiful."
I can't understand the rest, but I think he's saying something like, "Let's keep it beautiful." [Helw, at the end, means Beautiful.]
As you know, there's a big anti-litter campaign going on in Egypt.
Glad CONO is supporting this.

This commercial is typical of Egyptian commercials, by the way: young target audience, youthful fun vibe. The Egyptian population is much younger than the American or English population. Median age in Egypt is only 24.3 years! [This linked web page lists Cairo's population as just under 11 million. They must be restricting the count to Cairo city limits. Estimates of Cairo's population typically range from 18 million to 25 million.]

Enjoy your weekend.

Coptic Museum, Mar Girgis, Cairo

Roman fort, Mar Girgis, Cairo, a photo by ibischild on Flickr.

The trouble with the Coptic Museum is that it's too distracting!
Not the exhibits. They are tastefully spaced and grouped.
The trouble is, the museum interior itself is too beautiful.
Each exhibit room has its own wooden ceiling, hand carved in the traditional style. You can see a photo of one of these ceilings in this article.
And the means of light control is unique. One wall of the museum contains stained-glass windows. Each window on the other wall is filled with a carved wood mashrabiya screen.
You are so busy looking up at the ceilings and around at the windows, that you forget to look at the actual exhibits!

Good things about the Coptic Museum:
Air conditioning!
Handicapped/wheelchair accessible (as far as I could tell.)
The exhibits are presented in logical groupings as you proceed along a pathway.
Temperature/humidity controls in many exhibit cases.
Beautiful ancient textiles.
A couple of remarkable bishop's chairs, with mother-of-pearl inlay.
Ancient geometric designs painted on plastered walls.
And so much more....

A Ride on the Cairo Metro

"Mar Girgis", I said to the ticket seller at Sadat Metro station. He indicated how to get to the correct platform. Between my basic Arabic, the ticket sellers' basic English, and many gestures, I'm always able to find my way around the Metro. The signs are excellent, but Sadat station is a hub and is a bit disorienting. The ticket sellers should get a raise!
On the Metro platform, look for a clump of women and go and stand with them. If you're a woman, that is. Because the women know where the women-only cars will pull up. I never had any problem on mixed cars; but you cannot make eye contact with men, since they think you're flirting. On the women-only car, you can look around you happily, without worrying about what signal you might be sending. Sometimes you might even get in a little conversation.

Crossing the bridge over the tracks at Mar Girgis station, this is what you see:
The foreground wall is the wall of the Metro station. The background wall is across the street. It is the wall of a Roman (yes Roman) fort or pretorium.
As you can see, the outer wall of the fort is curved (yes curved.) I can't remember a curved wall on any other Roman fort. But perhaps my bloggees know of one...?
This curved wall, to me, shows that the fort was built by Nubians, who never build a straight line when they can build a curve. Domes, barrel vaults, groined vaults. Nubians from Esna or beyond (upriver from Luxor) build these challenging curves without any blueprint or any measuring or angle-fixing device of any kind.

Mar Girgis is a predominantly-Christian neighborhood, named for the church of St. George (Mar Girgis). St. George was an Egyptian saint long before the English adopted him as their own. In Mar Girgis neighborhood there are several delightful churches and a synagogue, all of them historic.

This time, however, I'd come to visit the Coptic Museum, which is next to the Roman fort. There was no-one in the ticket office, so I went away to get lunch (overpriced, though quite good--some sort of kofta.) And during the whole meal I had that guilty feeling you have during Ramadan, when you're eating and drinking publicly and so many others aren't. On the TV was a service of noonday prayers--this was Friday--with President Mursi in attendance. I felt bad for him, devoutly saying his prayers with the cameras on him. I suppose he'll get used to it, though.

After lunch, I went back to the Coptic Museum and was able to buy a ticket. But my visit to the museum will have to wait until the next post.

Cairo

I've been meaning to write about Cairo. I was there last week. Not this past week. The week before.


The thing is, Cairo's kind of disorienting. The big city.


Cairo is a city of over 20 million people. Possibly as many as 25 million. (Estimates vary widely.) So I'd always thought I'd never want to live there. But, in a sense, you don't live in a city, you live in a neighborhood. So it's just a matter of finding a livable neighborhood.


I was staying in the lovely relaxing guest house of the Anglican cathedral. It's in the Zamelek neighborhood, on an island. And you do feel a bit isolated there. A little bit away from the hustle and bustle. Although you're a jump over the river bridge from Tahrir Square, and in the other direction from the busy Dokki neighborhood.


If you've guessed that I'm thinking of moving, you guessed right. If I can find a livable neighborhood for me and my dog. Luxor is a lively small city with a thriving community of foreign residents. Many foreigners have left, but many have stayed, and many continue to return for the winter season every year--escaping the miserable British/European winter. But little Luxor can feel like a pressure cooker sometimes.


Believe it or not, the place where I was staying in the heart of Cairo was less noisy than my little street in the heart of Luxor. Both are side streets. But you get motorbikes racing up and down our street showing off a variety of excruciatingly-loud horns. In Cairo there was the dull roar of traffic, but none of the motorbike mayhem.


I wanted to chill in Cairo, and I did. Literally. It's significantly cooler there. In spite of greater humidity, this was a relief. And I chilled figuratively, without a schedule.


But I did revisit the Egyptian Museum, that amazing higgledy-piggledy warehouse of wonders.


And I visited the amazing Coptic Museum for the first time. But I think this could be a separate post.