Journey to Jordan
by Joe Vasicek
Copyright © 2008, 2011 Joseph Vasicek.
All right reserved.
Smashwords Edition
Table of Contents
Author’s Preface
As a sophomore at Brigham Young University, I decided on a whim to sign up for a 100 level Arabic course. The class was already full, but after checking my email and refreshing the page, a slot happened to open up. Through that act of serendipity, I eventually came to add Middle Eastern studies & Arabic as a second major.
BYU is well known for the quality of its language programs, and the Arabic program is no exception. Many consider it the best undergraduate program of its kind in the country, which is probably why the FBI, CIA, NSA, and State Department recruit so heavily from BYU. After the events of 9/11, the MESA major grew considerably as more and more students signed up to study Arabic.
In order to graduate with a degree in Arabic, students must take the 300 level classes which are only offered through the summer study abroad program. This program is run through the Kennedy Center for International Studies, and changes location depending on the year and the political situation. In 2006, for example, the program was moved to Morocco because of the war in Lebanon. Typically, however, the program alternates between Egypt and Jordan.
For the Middle East, 2008 was a relatively peaceful year; a calm before the monumental shifts that would happen later as a result of the Arab Spring. Mubarak was still in power in Egypt, Bashir Al-Assad in Syria, and no one questioned their authority. The Palestinians were deeply divided, with Fatah controlling the West Bank and Hamas controlling the Gaza Strip. The Israeli blockade of Gaza was already underway, but the worst of that crisis was yet to come. In Iraq, the troop surge had brought the insurgency under control, and the Americans were slowly beginning to scale back their occupation of the country. Iran continued to defy the international community with its nuclear program, but was far enough away from developing a nuclear weapon that all of the threats amounted to little more than saber rattling.
At the same time, the world stood on the edge of a dangerous precipice that few, if any, saw until it was too late. The United States had already entered the Great Recession, though none of us knew it at the time, and in just a few months the domestic housing market would collapse, leading to the global financial meltdown. This economic collapse and the subsequent years of high unemployment would become a major defining conflict of my generation, arguably even more than the 9/11 terrorist attacks. One could even argue that the economic downturn was a major influencing factor in the 2011 revolutions of the Arab Spring.
But in the summer of 2008, none of us suspected any of this. We were young, naïve college students who were still trying to figure out what to do with our lives. Times were good, the situation in the Middle East was relatively calm, and we felt no trepidation to keep us from seeing the world and chasing our dreams.
Since Brigham Young is a private religious university run by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (aka “the Mormons”), we had the added perspective that comes from approaching our studies from a religious point of view. In the Middle East, most of the people are Muslim, but they have great respect for anyone who believes deeply in God, and so it was not difficult for us to fit in. While proselyting in Jordan is forbidden, the LDS church had two small congregations in the country while we were there: an expat branch in Amman, and a branch run by native Arabs to the north in Irbid. Two older couples served as humanitarian missionaries in the country, and helped us to fit in with the local church members and feel at home.
For me, this was my first experience living and traveling extensively abroad. I had studied Arabic for two years and had made several friends among the Arab students at BYU, but had no idea what to expect. Looking back, I can say that it was a truly life-changing experience, in the best possible way that a study abroad program can be.
A word about this journal: most of the chapters were originally blog posts which I wrote over the course of the summer; you can still find the originals at Journey to Jordan (onelowerlight.com/jordan08). I’ve included a few posts which I later made private, and have edited them to improve the quality of the writing. I may have changed some of the names of people who figure in this book, though I won’t tell you how many or which ones. For those of you who were with me, it should be obvious.
I think that’s about all I need to say in preface to this book. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy!
Utah
First Post! | Khullas! | Packing…for Friends | Seven Hours Until Takeoff | Thoughts from the Airport
First Post!
April 22, 2008
So, today is Tuesday, and in four days I’m going to be on a plane headed to Cairo. Yikes! And I’ve still got an exam, packing, cleaning checks, my sister’s wedding, and a novel to finish. Where did all the time go?
Even with all the other stuff that’s going on, I’m getting really excited to go on this study abroad trip! We’ll be in Cairo for a week, then we’ll be in Amman, Jordan for the next three months, until we fly back home on August 17th. In between, we’ll go visit Jerusalem and Israel/Palestine, and I’ll fly back for my second sister’s wedding.
Am I nervous? Extremely!
The thing is that I really don’t have any firm goals at this point for what I want to accomplish. That’s probably not very good. I need to figure out what I want to get done, where I want to be when I get back so that I can focus my efforts while I’m there.
This past semester I didn’t focus much on my Arabic, and the result was that I only did what I needed to do to get by, rather than actually learn the language. I feel I’m approximately where I was at the end of the fall semester in terms of what I can actually speak and write. I’m much better at reading, but reading is probably the easiest part of Arabic for me.
I probably won’t have any time to set down firm goals until I’m actually on the plane, but I hope to have something by the time we land. I definitely will not be wasting my time there—I want to come home having learned a significant amount of Arabic. Who knows but what this will prepare me to go further in the program—say, do CASA like Spencer did, or get a master’s degree in Arabic? I really don’t know.
That leads me to another thing I’ve been thinking about as a prelude to this study abroad trip, which is what I’ll be doing after graduation. I’m already half way through college, and I currently don’t have any post-graduation plans. Funny thing is that I’ve been too busy with school to step back and think “what do I want to do with my life?”
I’m just going to call a can of worms on that subject (post-graduation plans), because I could ramble on that forever. I’m sure it’s a theme that will be recurring on this blog. My sister Kate tells me that it’s actually not a bad thing that I don’t have firm plans, because everything is going to change after this study abroad experience. That’s both encouraging and scary.
With this blog, I plan on keeping it a lot like my sister Kate did with her Kate in Jordan blog. That was an awesome cross cultural blog! I learned a lot about Jordan, language learning, and Arab culture from what she posted. I want this blog to be something like that, though I’m sure it’s going to become it’s own beast. I already keep a regular writing blog, and I think this one is going to become something like that: where the main theme is the study abroad, but it also goes into other things in my life that may be only loosely connected.
In any case, I think this blog is going to be more like a journal than any of my other blogs. The main focus will be the BYU study abroad program in Jordan, so unlike most blogs, it will have a definite beginning, middle, and end. This beginning is very rambly, but once I’m on the plane with this crazy week behind me, I think I’ll be a little more coherent.
Man! I’m excited, stressed, nervous, and feeling generally crazy!
Khullas!
April 23, 2008
It’s over—finally! I took the Arabic 202 test today, and it was a massacre. I almost didn’t think I’d make it through the whole thing. Lots and lots of translation, with words that I had no clue what they meant…it was painful.
I think I know the grammar of Arabic fairly well, but what I really need to progress is a wider vocabulary. Arabs have a way of repeating the same thing in two or three different ways, and for every word there are like ten synonyms. The result? General mass confusion anytime my classmates or I try to read something.
So I think I should probably focus on building my vocabulary this summer. That should be the primary thing, besides speaking and listening—at least as far as learning the language goes.
But even if I bombed this test, I’m glad to have it behind me. Holy cow! This semester is completely and utterly finished—no more work, no more obligations, nothing. Thank goodness!
Packing…for Friends
April 24, 2008
I’m not even in Jordan yet, and I had a cultural learning experience yesterday.
Right now, I’m in the process of packing, cleaning up, moving my stuff into storage, etc. I’m going to lend my car to Malek, a friend of mine from Jordan. Yesterday I was over at his place, and his roommate (who is also from Jordan, but whom I barely ever see) asked me if I could bring back “some small piece of luggage” for him.
I was caught a little by surprise, because it’s not the kind of thing that people usually ask for over here in America. I didn’t give him a flat no, though—I just said that I probably won’t have much room, but that I could put maybe a ten pound package in my bags. He was asking me to bring a whole backpack.
He seemed a bit put off, and I was surprised by that. I agreed to ask some other friends on the trip if they have room, but I’m pretty sure that nobody has room for an entire bag. I tried to be nice about it, though.
Today, as I was over at a friend’s house, I got a phone call: it was Malek with another Arab friend who wanted to know if I could bring a bag to Jordan for him. I was just about to give him the same answer, when I remembered what Dil and Leila had taught us: always have an excuse to get out of everything, because the only way to get out of it is by giving that excuse. In Arab culture, it’s always rude to say no.
So I remembered how my sister wants to pack a piece of luggage full of gifts for me to get for her Arab friends. I know that in Arab culture, family comes first, so I said “I would if I could, but my sister already has given me a bag, so I have to bring that one.”
I think that this is the better way, in Arab culture, to do things. Malek immediately understood what I was saying and accepted it. What I learned: always have a legitimate/pseudo-legitimate excuse to get out of things.
Another thing I learned is just how much Arabs rely on their friends. Stuff that we consider to be polite boundaries are things that they sometimes cross when calling on help from a friend. it’s pretty crazy, because I wasn’t expecting it and it caught me off guard. If I’m going to do well on this trip, though, I’m going to have to pick up on how this works.
Seven Hours Until Takeoff
April 26, 2008
So I’m sitting here in my apartment at the FLSR (Foreign Language Student Residence), surrounded by my last remaining roommate’s luggage, waiting for my laundry to dry so I can finish packing. And I’m way excited!
Said goodbye to as many friends as I could, went to my sister’s wedding reception, did cleaning checks, finished my novel, and did all kinds of other stuff today. I was kind of stressed, but at the same time, kind of relaxed. While driving around town, I was literally screaming at all the other cars (the city was so freaking crowded from graduation! It was crazy!) but when I was at my sister’s reception and she was freaking out, I told her “don’t worry, everything will work out exactly as it should.” Kind of weird.
I hear that getting no sleep the night before you travel is good for jet lag, but I don’t know. I guess I’m going to find out. My Dad is going to pick me up and take me to the airport at 5:00 am tomorrow.
These past few days, I’ve had this really weird feeling, like I’m up in heaven waiting to be born. I’ve been so busy with the present—exams, weddings, packing, cleaning checks, finishing my novel—that I haven’t had time to think about what’s going to happen once everything is all over. Now, I’m about to experience a complete change of scenery, and I have no idea what it’s going to be like. I haven’t taken the time to imagine it, so really, I have absolutely no expectations whatsoever.
Maybe that’s a good thing. This way, I’m not setting myself up for disappointment. I don’t know, though—it’s probably going to be a lot more shocking once we step out of the airport.
I hope my Arabic is good enough for me to survive on the street. it’s going to be a struggle, I think. Better work up to throwing myself into it.
And other than that, I really don’t know what to write in this last pre-trip post. I’m just really excited, without any concrete thoughts. it’s kind of weird, but not overwhelming.
Thoughts from the Airport
April 27, 2008
I’m writing this from the plane to Cairo. We’re somewhere over the Atlantic right now, in the middle of the night. We’ve got about six or seven more hours to go before we land.
When I sat down on the plane, I sat next to this really nice Arab guy named Omar. He’s from Cairo but lives/works in Connecticut for some kind of a technology company. He’s going back to Cairo for a business trip…a two month business trip. Kind of like a vacation, he says. And he gets to see his family at the same time. Good for him.
This is really the first encounter I’ve had where I’ve been able to speak in Arabic. We started talking in English at first, but I decided to throw in a few Arabic words, try and practice. He hasn’t spoken any Arabic with me, but he’s understood most of what I’ve said to him, and we’ve had some good conversations (except he didn’t get the blond joke I told him: “did you hear about the blonde who invented a solar powered flashlight?”)
This has helped me a bit to figure out a little better what I want to do while I’m here. I want to put in as much effort as I can to speak Arabic all the time, even among the other people in the group. This past semester at the Arabic house, all of us slacked off and didn’t speak much Arabic, and as a result we didn’t get much out of that program. With these things, you only get as much as you put into it, so I want to put as much into it as I can and speak Arabic even when I’m embarrassed to do so.
I also want to learn a lot about the culture here. There were some really interesting things that made this flight distinctly Arab. First of all, as we boarded and took our seats, the screens displayed a picture of a mosque and the bismallah, followed by what appeared to be a sura from the Qur’an. And before we took off, some kind of an Arabic prayer came on over the speakers, with text on the screens as well. Even though I’m not Muslim, it’s kind of refreshing to be in a place where people can mention God publicly without fearing some kind of a lawsuit.
When we started out, the waitress passed out little hard candies. I took one that looked like it was caramel, but judging from the taste I think it was coffee. Also, when they went around to give us our beverages and meals, after all of that was finished they came around again just to give people tea. If I want to be a faithful Mormon in the Middle East, I’m going to have to be extra careful.
We land in a few hours, and I should probably get some sleep. It’s funny, because I don’t feel unusually excited or stressed or crazy. I’m actually quite calm. When I was at the airport, I had to go pick up my bags with a couple of other people in the group, and I was very surprised with how stressed people were in the crowd at the baggage claim.
I think that some of the time (perhaps even most of the time) stress is something that we bring upon ourselves unnecessarily. As The Book of Mormon says, everything has been done in the wisdom of Him who created all things. Everything will always work out exactly as it’s supposed to. I’m really looking forward to landing in Cairo and getting started.
Egypt
Clueless in Cairo | Get Your Tourist on | Baqsheesh and More | Cairo to Karnak | Ankh Brothers and a Wife | Fast Friday | Looking Ahead (and not seeing anything clearly) | Cairo Driving Rules | Shubra | Juice Bars and Honeymoons | Goodbye Cairo
Clueless in Cairo
April 28, 2008
So today we arrived in Cairo and did a little bit of wandering around. Let me say, it was a crazy experience!
I didn’t realize how incredibly clueless I would be until I went with a bunch of people to go find some dinner. We found this sandwich shop, and the menu…was in Arabic. With Arabic prices. There were so many choices…and I had no idea what any of them were.
Eventually, I asked for a falafel sandwich, and paid for it with a twenty pound bill…but it only costs, like, seventy five piasters. It’s like paying for a piece of nickel candy with a five dollar bill. The guy asked me, in broken English, for change, and when I stared at him blankly, he went ahead and changed it. When I tried to tell the cook that I wanted a sprite not a coke, he said “enta ma’aqd” in this joking voice and all I could do was smile and nod…
So then, after we had our little orientation, I went with Ryan, Jakeson, and Gini to look for an internet cafe, and we had a little bit of an adventure.
To preface this, I should say that the shop owners here are some of the friendliest, most hospitable people I have ever seen…and also some of the shrewdest. They go so far out of their way just to make you feel comfortable that even though they seem sincere, they’re undoubtedly trying to sell you something. I swear, one of these Arab shop owners would be worth ten of my friends doing summer sales, at least.
We asked three or four people for directions, and got three or four barely understandable answers. The last guy we asked was incredible—he was the one who walked us to the internet cafe and talked with us for nearly half an hour in Arabic, helping us to practice—by way of his cousins’ papyrus and perfume shops, of course.
He was really amazing though. He told us all about how he’s lived in the area for fifty years, spoke with us in Arabic, helped us with vocab and pronunciation, and even took us into one of those hookah joints and showed us how the hookah works, how to smoke it, etc (don’t worry; we didn’t actually smoke anything. We just saw how it works—way cool!).
His cousins were also very accommodating. They spoke with us in Arabic, brought us drinks, went into these long speeches explaining how the papyrus and the perfume works, and told us that we don’t have to buy anything at that moment, but to compare prices and come back if we like.
Very reasonable…but also something I’m not quite used to. I didn’t quite know the appropriate way to respond to this kind of salesmanship, and I was happy when the guy said that we didn’t have to buy anything right there. I know that you can bargain for just about anything, but I don’t really know how to do that. At the same time, I don’t want to get ripped off, so I’m reluctant to stick my foot out and do it.
The internet cafe was really interesting. I think the fastest processor of those machines didn’t go over 100 MHz—it was like a flashback to the late nineties. Internet Explorer 6 (the only available browser) wasn’t compatible with Wordpress 2.0 in a couple of areas, probably because of javascript or something. The cafe was upstairs in an otherwise abandoned building, down a long open-air hallway on the second floor. Five lbs ($1) for an hour. Quite a bit better than the five pounds per minute that the hotel was offering.
On the way back, this other group of shop owners hooked us in and had us come into their papyrus shop. Jameson was tired and wanted to just go back to the hotel, but I didn’t want to give these guys a flat out “no,” since I hear that that’s very rude in Arab culture. We tried to give our excuse, “sorry, we need to meet back at the hotel,” but eventually the guys got us in.
Jameson kind of hovered by the door, but I tried to be polite in an Arab way, complimented them on their hospitality when they had us read from their guest book, said we were sorry but had to meet up at the hotel when they tried to show our merchandise, assured them that we didn’t feel pressured to buy, etc. We left a little awkwardly, and the guys gave us some papyrus bookmarks.
So, yeah, I feel pretty clueless here. But the people are very friendly, and not necessarily out of ulterior motives, even though they all are trying to sell you something. The biggest thing I need to improve is my ability to listen and understand what’s being said. Ya Salaam!
Get Your Tourist on
April 29, 2008
Today things felt kind of weird because we were doing all the super-touristy things. We visited the pyramids, saw some of the more ancient sites, went to the papyrus institute—basically, all the places where the Arabs speak more English than they speak Arabic.
We started with the pyramids, and almost as soon as we arrived, every one of us got ripped off by some Arab guy giving out “free” stuff or asking us “to take a picture of my son on my camel.” I only got ripped off a dollar by this crippled kid who tried to take my 20 pound note for a fake keffiyeh I didn’t want, and was literally dragged by the head by a guy trying to give me a camel ride. Eventually, you just learn to ignore people—don’t even say no to them, unless they put something in your hand, and then you say no and immediately give it back.
It wasn’t so bad at some of the other sites, though. The three great pyramids were kind of…there…but not much else. Sakkara and Memphis, however, were really interesting. We walked right into this 4,000 year old tomb with all these intact carvings all over the walls, walked through other temples with their pillars and other stuff, learned all about the step pyramid and the 5 kilometers of booby trapped corridors inside…cool stuff.
As we saw at all of these sites, I felt like I was looking at something really incredible but had no idea how incredible it really was. If I hadn’t taken the time to realize that, I would just have been like “oh, cool. Let’s go somewhere else.”
The thing that’s really interesting to me is that all of these grand pyramids were built by people who were probably ostentatious and arrogant—and yet few of them were actually buried there. When the modern explorers went and dug their way through the things, they found the tombs completely empty! Some of them probably died before the monument was completed, and were never moved over from the temporary tomb, wherever it was. It’s like you do this big, arrogant, I’m-better-than-everyone thing and yet history still defeats you.
I was also wondering about the craftsmen who went through all that work to carve the artwork in walls of the tomb at Memphis. These pieces of art weren’t designed to be seen—they tomb was supposed to be sealed up forever once the king was buried. They were creating art that they knew no-one would ever see. What would that do to an artist? To know that the fruit of your creativity would never shine to the rest of the world?
Then I noticed how the individual people in the reliefs all looked identical to each other; how dozens would be in exactly the same pose, doing exactly the same thing. Every once and a while, you’d have this king who would literally be one hundred times bigger than the others, like Gulliver to the Lilliputians. It’s as if there was no such thing as individuality or personal freedom in the culture that created this art—that if you weren’t lucky enough to be born into the royal family, you were basically a robot slave for the rich and powerful.
I suppose it’s easy to be critical from my position. I’m an outsider, so of course I can find fault with it. The question is what will I think of it after I’ve made the effort to come to some kind of understanding.
Either way, it was pretty cool to see all this stuff. Tomorrow, inshallah, I’ll be going to this guy who sells papyrus with the Book of Abraham facsimiles.
Still, I’m looking forward to the time when we’re not just American tourists.
Baqsheesh and More
April 30, 2008
Man, Cairo is full of people trying to sell stuff—and they are very, very aggressive! But once you figure out how to handle them, it’s not so bad. Just don’t make eye contact, wave them away with your hand and say “la, shukran,” and they’ll usually get the idea. Sometimes they’ll give a parting line: “how can I take your money?” ie something that some Americans probably taught them as a joke, and something they only say as a joke when they know you won’t buy their crap.
There is a lot more tipping over here than I’m used to (the Egyptian Arabic word for “tip” is “baqsheesh”) and I’m not really sure what constitutes an appropriate tip. A lot of times people will wait at the doors of bathrooms to hand you a towel, and the people at the doors of mosques will also expect a tip. If you take your shoes with you, however, you can get away from it.
I didn’t realize this, so the first couple of times it happened, I didn’t do anything. The second time it happened, I think I overpaid, but it was a cool experience.
I was in the Khan Il-Khariri (a crazy, crazy marketplace crowded with really pushy salesmen) and I asked this one guy, in Arabic, where the bathroom was. His friend showed me to the nearest mosque, and at the door, his friends tried to take my shoes.
I said no, but they insisted, and kept insisting until I put my hand on my chest and looked down (an Arab gesture that means something I’m not quite sure yet). The bathrooms were extremely crowded with both men and women, and when I got there I had to put my shoes back on—but the bathrooms had seats, none of this squatty potty stuff.
After using the bathroom, I came out and the guys asked for his tip, so I paid 1.50 pounds, and as I put my shoes back on at the door, he said something I didn’t quite understand but what I think meant “the blessings of God be upon you for coming to this place.”
It was really cool because I felt like I fit in, and I was able to go through the whole experience without using any English. Even if I’d tried, I doubt any of these guys would have understood me. I really love it when I can do stuff without using any English—it’s way fun.
But the confusion over tips is kind of stressing me out. We took a sleeper train to Luxor last night, and the guys joked around with us about a tip, so I paid him another 1.50 pounds. He took it, but looked kind of odd, so I asked if it was too much and took back the pound. He then said that if I didn’t want to pay, I didn’t have to, but I gave it to him.
The other guys in the car (the American guys) said I’d insulted him, and I felt embarrassed, so when I saw him again I gave him two American dollars. But then, on the bus, I heard from the others that none of them had tipped their people. I felt embarrassed again, for getting suckered out of a tip I didn’t have to pay. Two American dollars is good money over here, and I don’t have a lot of cash.
There is an upside to this story, however. We’re taking the same night train back to Cairo, on the same cars, and presumably with the same people. Maybe I’ll get some better service this time—possibly two oranges with dinner instead of one.
Cairo to Karnak
May 2, 2008
We just got back from our trip to Luxor, and it was way cool!
We took the sleeper train down, and it lasted a good ten hours. The food was mummified and the server was a creep, but we saw a ton of really cool sites!
We started at Valley of the Kings, a complex of ancient tombs out in the desert mountains. We went down three of them: Rameses IV (I think), Rameses III, and Thutmosis III. Rameses III was long and artistic, but right before we got to the bottom we saw that it was closed off, and the final chamber was partially collapsed and completely wrecked. What a disaster! But the other places were cool. The paint on the walls is still bright, even after thousands of years.
We also visited king Tut’s tomb and saw his mummy. Man, the guy looks like a raisin! But the tomb was actually really cool, and his sarcophagus was fantastic. Nikki’s guidebook said that the place wasn’t worth the 25 pounds to get in, but I thought it was very good.
It was hard to tell how how old everything was, or to get a sense of the real significance of everything. The art wasn’t as good, in my opinion, as the stuff at Memphis, but it was more complete than most other stuff we’ve seen. It made me wonder what the kings would think if they could see what we’ve done with their tombs. That would make a good story.
We visited Hatshepsut’s temple, where seventy German tourists were massacred by Islamic extremists in 1997. Don’t worry, we got out alive! The tour guide told us the story of Hatshepsut, Egypt’s only woman pharaoh, and it was very interesting! It would make a good plot for a novel, actually. Here’s basically how it goes:
The previous pharaoh married Hatshepsut, but when she failed to give him a son, he took one of the maids and had a son by her. However, he died immediately afterward, and his son, Thutmosis III, was nearly twelve years old. Hatshepsut, as his stepmother, basically did the practical work of ruling the kingdom while he remained the symbolic leader.
After a while, Hatshepsut became fed up with the fact that she wasn’t getting any of the credit for ruling the kingdom. She started putting her name next to her stepson’s, then put only her name on the official documents and got rid of him entirely. When he reached the age of adulthood, she sent him off to a foreign war to become a man. However, she never expected him to come back.
Thutmosis served in a very far land as a soldier for nearly six years, and when he came back, Hatshepsut was unquestionably in charge. She had perpetuated the legend that she was the offspring of Amon-Ra, the Sun God, and depicted herself everywhere as a man (because it was technically forbidden for a woman to rule Egypt). When Thutmosis III returned, it was a shock to everyone. Legend has it that he killed Hatshepsut and took over for himself, but the autopsy of Hatshepsut’s mummy shows that she died of cancer. Perhaps he came while she was on her deathbed, and made it look like he’d killed her when he really took her alive to torture her with the destruction of her legacy. Most of the documents and monuments with Hatshepsut’s name have been erased or destroyed since the ancient times.
We then went to Karnak, and man, it was the best site we visited the whole trip. It is huge! Enormous! The pillars are hundreds of feet tall, with intricate carvings everywhere, and the place just goes on forever and ever.
Jason explained the basics of how the place worked. The Karnak temple proceeds along a single corridor, from the entrance to the holy of holies. One of the dominant themes is fertility and reproduction, so all along the main way to the front doors are hundreds of statues of oxen. Also, the god of the temple (in Karnak, Amon) is depicted epiphallic (with an erect penis) to show him as the father of everything.
The first chamber has a very high / open ceiling, and is for the general public. It is meant to shock and awe everyone who comes in. The next chamber was originally set behind doors, and contains the hall of pillars where you can find most of the incredible artwork. This was supposed to represent the creation immediately after all things were created.
As you progress towards the holy of holies, you go backwards in time to the singularity from which everything began. That singularity lies within the holy of holies itself, where the altar represents the highest power of the god and is the central place from which the god’s power expands. The ceiling of the holy of holies was full of stars.
Pretty cool stuff. There were also scenes of the pharaoh getting his washings and annointings, which was way cool. The whole experience makes me which I’d read more Hugh Nibley before I came here…like, everything Nibley ever wrote. This stuff is really cool.
There’s more, too, but I’ll write about that when I get back downstairs where the connection is better. Gotta charge these batteries a bit more.
Ankh Brothers and a Wife
May 2, 2008
Here are some more cool experiences I had in Luxor:
At the temple of Karnak, I was walking around by myself when this native Arab guy walked up and started talking to me. This is usually a sign that they’re looking for baqsheesh, but he was really gentle and I wanted to practice my Arabic, so I struck up a conversation with him. It was way cool, because I could actually understand him, and he could understand me! It’s always fun to have language experiences like that, especially when they’re successful.
After a while, though, he pulled me aside, and I was afraid he’d try and show me something to get some baqsheesh from me. But I went along anyways—after all, a pound or two isn’t all that much, and it would have been rude to have refused him.
He took me to this chamber that he said belonged to Rameses, and offered to take my picture. I obliged, and he took a cool shot of me next to a pillar. He then took me inside and showed me this hieroglyph of an ankh.
Now, as a side note, on the bus Brian warned us that the guys here will try and give us an “ankh blessing” to get baqsheesh from us, where they touch your hand to the ankh, then to your forehead, then to the ankh, then to your heart, and repeat several times. He said that one of us would definitely get suckered into it.
Well, that’s what he did. He then took me to another ankh, but I caught him from surprise this time: I took his hand, then pressed it to the ankh, then to his heart, etc.
He laughed, and then did something completely unexpected: he said “habibi!” and gave me a hug. I went to give him some baqsheesh, and he refused it. I think that the chatting and the whole ankh blessing experience had kind of bonded us, so he was okay with no tip. Plus, he just struck me as a really awesome guy.
I’ve read about this in Understanding Arabs, and I think this is how it works: if you get to know an Arab on a personal basis before you go and do some kind of transaction with him, the transaction will flow a lot smoother. Get to know someone personally, and they won’t try to rip you off. Become friends with people first, and things will flow a lot easier. It sounds like common sense the way I’m saying it, but it’s different in Arab culture—more like you need to get really personal with people, to a degree that we don’t in the West.
Later, when I was over at the Temple of Luxor, I broke off from the main group to look at the pillars and stuff on my own. Gini, one of the girls from the program, was also wandering around, and we chatted for a bit.
As we were walking through the holy of holies, one of the native Arabs walked up to us and asked “is this your wife?” I turned to Gini and said “hey, Gini, are you my wife?” and she said “well, if it keeps me from getting harassed, then yes!”
I haven’t really noticed it much because I’m not a woman, but the Arab guys here treat women a lot differently than we do in America. I think it applies much more to foreign women than native women, but a lot of the guys will harass, stare at, hit on, or even grope American women whenever they get the chance. The girls in our group say that they have to be careful, and some of them even have stories already. Elizabeth was telling me earlier tonight that she had to pretend that she was married to David to keep this one guy from harassing her—they were joking around when I saw them, saying “hey, Joe, guess what? We’re married!” Also, I went out with Carina and Spencer earlier, and while we were waiting in line at the ice cream place, Carina (Spencer’s wife) started getting really nervous and said she wanted to leave. I didn’t realize it at the time, but a lot of the guys in the crowd were staring at her, and it made her uncomfortable.
This is something I think I’m going to have to be more aware of as the trip goes on. I’m glad I don’t have to go through this kind of trouble, but we do need to look out for the girls in the group and make sure that they’re protected. And hey, if it means pretending to be married for a little while, I’m okay with that!
Fast Friday
May 2, 2008
Since around 90% of the Middle East is Muslim, and Islam pervades the culture here so deeply, members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in the Arab countries treat Friday as their sabbath instead of Sunday. So on Friday, we had our first fast and testimony Friday experience.
It was pretty interesting. Reminded me a lot of The Other Side of Heaven, the way we met in a villa converted for church use and had a nice linger longer in the shade of the palm trees outside. Cool stuff.
The LDS branch in Cairo mostly consists of church members from Western countries who work in the embassies. Not all of them are American: there was one brother from New Zealand, and another family from France. It was good to be reminded that our membership in the church transcends nationalities. I wonder what would happen if relations between these countries were not as close as they were? I would hope that it wouldn’t compromise our brotherhood and sisterhood as Latter-day Saints.
The congregation was very small, and our BYU study abroad group alone made up about two thirds of everyone present. The members of the branch were very kind and provided a nice linger longer for us, which was a lot of fun. I briefly met brother Cannon, whom my sister met and had dinner with when she came through a couple years ago.
The meetings felt surprisingly Mormon; after wandering around ancient ruins and medieval mosques and mingling with a culture that is overwhelmingly Muslim, it was quite a change of scenery. The hymns were particularly well chosen. We started with hymn 64, “On this Day of Joy and Gladness,” and our sacrament hymn was number 197, “Oh Savior Thou Who Wearest A Crown.” We finished strong with number 62, “All Creatures Of Our God and King.” Some very rousing numbers; it felt good to sing.
The words of the sacrament hymn in particular really struck me, mostly because of the stuff I’ve been thinking about since the New Testament class I took this past semester. The words reminded me strongly that Christ’s atonement is about grace, forgiveness, and God’s infinite love for us:
No creature is so lowly, no sinner so depraved, but feels thy presence holy, and through thy love is saved. Though craven friends betray thee, they feel thy love’s embrace; the very foes who slay thee have access to thy grace.
Thy sacrifice transcended the mortal law’s demand; thy mercy is extended to every time and land. No more can Satan harm us, though long the fight may be, nor fear of death alarm us; we live, O Lord, through thee.
This hymn made me think about how charity is the prime directive: it is the very heart of the gospel, and the only truly fundamental commandment. Though today there are thousands of Christian churches and sects that argue over the smallest of doctrinal details, the main thing these scriptures are trying to get across is that we all need to have and cultivate charity for each other—that this is the very heart of the gospel. Too often, we look to a checklist of commandments, when the spirit of it all is pure charity, the thing that you’re left with when you strip away all of the other stuff.
I hope that I can develop this kind of charity while I’m here—not only for those of my own culture, but for those of the cultures of the places we’ll visit. I want this to be the prime motivator in my life, and I want charity, not fear, cynicism, or ethnocentrism, to define how I establish relationships with the cultures and the people in this place.
I hope and pray that I can develop that kind of charity for the people of the Middle East (and all people), though I know that on a day to day basis I’m going to get frustrated, angry, or cynical more than once. If I do what I can to keep the Spirit with me and stay close to the Lord, I think I can slowly turn away from all of that and experience this real charity on a daily basis.
That’s the goal, at least. We’ll see how it goes.
Looking Ahead (and not seeing anything clearly)
May 3, 2008
You know, I’m not sure exactly why I started studying Arabic, but I did and now I’m really into it.
I love the language and the culture, and think that they’re both beautiful and fascinating. So far, I’ve been able to pick up Arabic surprisingly well, which has been very encouraging and makes me want to work on it more.
But why? What is all of this language study for? I’m not sure. Not yet, at least.
Jason and Spencer, two of the instructors who have helped to keep us organized while here in Cairo, both went through this intensive government program called CASA. Apparently, this program is the next big step after getting a bachelor’s and a master’s in Arabic (though Jason did it before he got his master’s). It lasts twelve months, runs out of Cairo and Damascus, and is highly intensive and very competitive. But the best part is that it’s completely paid for by the government. There are only thirty spots on the program each year, so to get in you have to be the best of the best. But once you come away from it, your Arabic is very, very good.
This sounds like something I might seriously want to do—but first I need to find out why (and even if) I want to keep studying Arabic. Why am I even here? What am I going to do with what I’m learning? What is the big picture—what do I hope to accomplish on a global level by studying all this stuff? Right now, I only have a vague picture: I want to help improve general relations between the two cultures, Western and Arab. There is so much ignorance on both sides and it is leading to a lot of conflict and suffering. But how do I translate that into something a little more concrete? Is this what I really care about, after stripping everything else away? Or am I just deceiving myself?
What’s more, I have a lot of other questions regarding CASA itself. Is this something I can do between getting my bachelor’s and master’s, or something I should take while studying for my master’s degree? What kind of benefits will this program give me? Should I just get a job after getting my bachelor’s and get some real world experience first, or is that not the best path for what I want to do?
More importantly, how does marriage and family fit in with all of this? Should I do CASA while I’m single, or get married first and come over with my wife? (Spencer did that, and apparently it worked well for him) If I don’t get married before I do this program, will taking a year off to study Arabic set me back significantly in terms of being able to find a wife and start a family?
Marriage and family is the most important thing to me—I’m willing even to sacrifice my career aspirations as a novelist for it—but it’s also the most slippery life goal of all. You can’t set any plans for it, because it depends so much on the decisions of other people, as well as the serendipity of meeting the right person at the right time (and in the right place and the right way). Thing is, I don’t know if I’m getting any closer to that goal. If you measure progress in terms of dating and “falling in love,” then I’m doing pretty poorly, but in terms of personal mentality and maturity, I’d like to think that I’m getting better…though others may disagree…
Bah! There is so much to think about. I’m not much of a planner, either—usually I just wing it as I go along. But this stuff is big and important. I don’t want to walk away from BYU without anywhere to go. And I want to lay the foundation for something really wonderful. Winging it has its benefits, but the problem is that some of the best things in life require a lot of hard work—and hard work requires a definite sense of direction, which requires planning.
I have no idea. But I hope I can find the answers to the most important of these questions before I get on that plane coming home.
Cairo Driving Rules
May 4, 2008
Cairo has some very interesting traffic rules. Here are the ones I’ve picked out so far:
Traffic lanes are optional.
If you can squeeze your way through, do it.
Pedestrians do not have the right of way.
Pedestrians go wherever they want.
If the car ahead stops, honk at them.
If the car behind you honks, ignore them.
When a siren sounds, pulling over is optional.
Dents and scratches are easy come, easy go.
Crossing the street is an act of faith and everyone is devoutly religious.
The speed limit is irrelevant; besides, your broken-down vehicle probably couldn’t go that fast anyway.
Shubra
May 4, 2008
This morning I had an excellent language experience that was frustrating but in a good way, if not a feel good way. I went with Griffin, Ryan, and Seth up to Shubra, the furthest Cairo neighborhood from all the tourists. Basically, it’s the marketplace where all the locals go.
We stepped off and could really tell the difference. There was a lot more garbage on the ground—as in, everywhere we walked—and no tourists anywhere. Basically, every shop/stall either sold a) fruit, b) shoes, c) t-shirts, d) sunglasses, or e) music. Lots of redundancy, but everything was cheap. I got a hat for $2.
The thing that struck me the most was how friendly the people were. I was snapping pictures of the people walking, and one of the ladies selling fruit came up and asked me if I’d taken her picture. Her daughter covered her face with her hijab, and I got a little nervous as people started gathering around us.
However, it turned out to be fine, and she laughed as I showed her the picture I’d taken of her. She then asked who we were, where we’re from, etc, and we struck up a conversation with her and a few other guys. She asked us if we wanted to buy anything, and we said no, that we didn’t have much money, so then she gave us some bananas for free. I took some pictures of some of the guys there, and they were all very friendly with us.
One thing you have to look out for in Cairo is people trying to sell you stuff. The salesmen in the touristy areas are extremely aggressive, especially the guys with the perfume shops. As a side note, today when we were trying to find a kosherie for lunch, this guy offered—in English—to help us. We grumbled “I hope this guy doesn’t have a perfume shop,” to which he said “no, no perfume!” But right after he showed us where to go, he said “let me take you to my shop, just to give you my card,” and sure enough, it was a perfume shop. And he wouldn’t just give us a card, he tried to get us to come in! We had to be really rude just to get rid of him!
But there was none of that crap in the market at Shubra. They’ll amble up to your side as soon as they see you looking at their merchandise, but when it became apparent that a) you aren’t interested, or b) they don’t have what you’re looking for, they don’t try to push you.
Everyone was easy to talk with and very friendly to us. I took a picture of this one guy, and when his wife pointed it out to him, he smiled and tried to pull her into a picture with him! She ran away, though, but she came back and told us about her son and daughter who went to London to study English and how their kids don’t speak Arabic now…or something like that. She talked so fast, it was difficult to understand her.
This is where the frustration came in. It was such an intensive language experience that I felt completely inadequate. I would say something and the natives would respond in words and phrases that I only half understood. The lady with the son and daughter in London spoke in clear tones, and I should have been able to understand every word, but I couldn’t put it all together into anything meaningful in my mind. So frustrating!
And what’s more, as I went through the same story half a dozen times with different people and then turned around and couldn’t understand any of their questions, I started wondering what we looked like to them, and it was hard not to be self-conscious. Sometimes I had to ask people to repeat the question three or four times, and when I did answer I think I answered the wrong question. Most of the time I just smiled and nodded. It was frustrating.
But I suppose that this kind of frustration is good. It comes from putting yourself out there and getting out of your comfort zone. There is a phrase in wrestling: “sweat on the mat so you don’t bleed in the match,” and I think this is kind of like that. It’s uncomfortable and difficult, but if I do this every day, then inshallah before the end of the trip I’ll be able to talk with native Arabs like the good people of Shubra and have a meaningful conversation. I hope for that day to come soon, and I’m going to make it happen.
Juice Bars and Honeymoons
May 4, 2008
One of the coolest things about Cairo is the juice bars, where for the equivalent of .20c you can come in off the street and get a delicious, cool glass of juice.
The one closest to our hotel, Mohammed Ali’s, has nearly twenty or thirty different choices, and they are delicious. I had tamarhindi, conconut, and sobiyya lubnanee today, and man, they really hit the spot! Especially when the sun is hot and your forehead is all sweaty from walking everywhere. The juice is good and thick, and one glass will practically fill you up. You just drink it right there and return the cup to the owner, then pay in the back. Good stuff—we should have places like this in the States.
When I went with a group of guys to the kosherie, we ran into Joey, a fellow student who’s been in Cairo for two or three weeks on his own and who’s going to meet up with us in Jordan. What a fun meeting! He reassured me that the tap water won’t kill me (he’s been drinking it for the past several weeks), and told us about a bunch of other stuff, too.
He’s been traveling all over Egypt while he’s here, and apparently it’s incredibly cheap. An eight hour bus ride up to Sinai and Sharm El-Sheikh is only about five bucks USD, and in some places you can get a hotel as cheap as two bucks per night. He’s been everywhere but Aswan these past few days, and he’s a starving student just like the rest of us. Ya salaam!
This got me to thinking, maybe Egypt would be a good place to come for a honeymoon. My dad was just telling me that Sarah and Mykle, my sister and brand new brother-in-law, went on a cruise for theirs, and that the price was so cheap that he would have jumped to do it if he were getting married in this day and age. The price? Around $1,500.
I’ll bet that if you could find relatively cheap tickets to Egypt, you could have an amazingly awesome honeymoon out here for much less. Cairo is a crowded, crazy, filthy, different kind of city, but in many ways it’s not that bad. Sure, there are diseases, aggressive shopkeepers, huge cultural differences, and the whole language barrier, but there’s also a lot of cool things as well. There are tons of ancient ruins everywhere, all up and down the Nile—and then there’s the Nile itself. I wouldn’t swim in it, but there are cruise ships, and I’ll bet that those aren’t too expensive. The food is awesome, if you know where to get it, and in Cairo itself there are tons of sites to see.
I guess it really depends on the girl I marry—a girl that’s more high maintenance or isn’t used to developing countries isn’t going to do well here, but a girl who’s interested in different cultures and seeing the world would totally appreciate it. And the kind of girl I want to marry is the kind of girl who wouldn’t mind taking off her shoes and getting her feet a little wet.