Slim Pickings

Above is a sly photo taken of our regular 'zibaal', or 'scavenger', on Mohamed Wagih Ahmed Street. While the actual number of waste-pickers in Egypt is unknown, as is the motivation behind the phenomenon (items to sell, out-of-date but nonetheless comestible food waste, materials to be exchanged for money at recycling plants), it was made clear to us in 'Aamiya lessons that in a country where the average wage apparently amounts to around 300 English pounds scavenging is not only commonplace but a recognised (if not ideal) profession, and takes place entirely in the open. Indeed the practice is almost welcomed due to the previously mentioned litter problem since the fall of Mubarak.
This man appears at least once every two days; this morning, as the majority of the rubbish had recently been cleared, the cats also came out to help him.

The Elephant's Journey: translation

 رحلة الفيل, edited by Sameer Abd Albaaqa, is one of a series of 32 children's stories by the Arab company حار جلمعارف which if my Google Translate has got it right means 'Hot Knowledge'... I picked up this copy for the equivalent of ten pence well over four months ago and finally, in a fit of exam procrastination, got round to translating it.
As the meaning of particular turns of phrase emerged I found myself laughing aloud a number of times: particularly at the single incidence of Arab sarcasm that had me baffled for a good ten minutes, and some of the great illustrations of the 'trolley monster that doesn't have on him a hose'. The ending is something of an anticlimax but the story is really sweet - if time allows, and nobody sues me, hopefully a few more translations will find their way up here.

Just to clarify: THIS IS NOT MY OWN WORK. I BLOODY WISH.

في كل مساء كانت العسفورة تعود الى عسها الذي بنته في سقف بيت الفيل
Every evening the sparrow returned to her nest, that she had built in part of the elephant's home.

و عندما كان الحارس يذهب للنوم تنزل الى صديقها الفيل الصغير و تحكى له عن رحلاتها الى المدينة الكبيرة التي حول الحديقة
When the guard went ot sleep, she would go down to her friend, the little elephant, and tell him about her journeys to the big city around the park.

و في كل ليلة كان الفيل يحلم بالمدينة و يحلم بانه يصارع و يقاتل الحيونات الضخمة التي تسير في شوارءهاو و التي وصفتها له العصفورةؤ قالت عنها:
And every night the elephant dreamed about the town, and dreamed that he was struggling and fighting the many animals that went in its streets that the sparrow had told him about. He told her:

انها ضجمة جدا و له ارجل مستديرة و تبلع النهس طول الوقف ثم تنزلهم و هي تصيح و تزمجر بيب بيب و اواة اواة و ليس لها خراطيم مع انها اكبر من اكبر الافيل
"It's huge, and it has round legs, and it swallows the people all the time, then spits them out. And it shouts "beep beep" and "awaa awaa" and doesn't have a trunk. It's bigger than the biggest of the elephants.

و ذات صباح استيقط الفيل الصغير و في راسه فكرة خطيرة
One morning, the little elephant woke up, and in his head was a dangerous idea...

و ظل طول اليوم ينتظر صديقته ليجبرها بفكرته و كان الاطفل يعجبون لحالة صديقهم الذي رفض ان يتناول شيابا من طعلمهم
And he remained waiting for his friend throughout the day, and the children wondered about the problem with their friend the elephant, who refused to eat any of their food.

و امتنع عن الحديث معهم كما كان يفعل في الايام العادية لقد كان الغيل يفكر و قال طفل صغير: هذا الفيل يفكر في امر خطير
He refrained from speaking with them as he did on normal days, and a small child said, "This elephant is thinking in a dangerous way..."

و في اعادا العصفورة لتحكي للفيل مثل كل مساء ولكن الفيل لم يتركها تحكى هذة المرة و اخد هو يتكلم و يشرح لها سره الخطير
و غي البداية رفضت العصفورة قبول الفكرة و لكن الفيل الصغير كاد يبكى فوافقته و اخدت تفكر في خطه
In the evening, the sparrow returned to talk to the elephant like every night, but the elephant didn't come down to speak this time, but to explain to her his dangerous secret.
At first the sparrow refused to accept the idea, but the little elephant cried, so she agreed, and began to think about the plan.

و بعد قليل خرج الاثنان من البيت دون ان يشعر بهما احد و كانت العصفورة تطير امامه لتكشف الطريق ثم تعود لتقودة في طرقات الحديقة
Shortly after, the pair left home, feeling that neither was alone. The sparrow flew in front to oversee the road, then took the lead down the garden path, free of guards.

و عند سور الحديقة كان الامر طبيعيا جدا و فعلت العصفورة المستحيل تساعد الفيل على القفز فوق السور والخروج الى الشارع
At the garden wall, a very natural thing occurred: the sparrow did the impossible and helped the elephant jump over the wall to get out into the street.

و قبل ان تنطق العصفورة بكلمه كان الفيل قد اندفع يخرى عاضبا نحو عربة (الترولي ) القادمة من بعيد
Before the sparrow had begun to speak, the elephant had rushed in anger towards the far-away cars.

و صاح الفيل ها ها هاذا واحد من تلك الوحوش الجبارا التي تحدثيننى عنني و سوف ترين يا صديقتي كيف انها ستهرب خائفه مني
The elephant cried, "Th-th-this is one of those powerful monsters you told me about! You will see, my friend, how they flee in fear from me!"

و بالفعل حاولت عربة )الترولي( ان تهرب لكيل تصطدم به ولكن الفيل الصغير اصر على مهاجمتهم مرة بعد مرة لكى يثبت العصفورة ان الافيللا تحشى هذة الحوانات الكبيرة التي لا خراطيم لها
Indeed, the car tried to evade causing a collision. But the elephant insisted on attacking time after time, so as to prove to the sparrow that elephants do not fear this big animal that didn't have a trunk.

في النهاية كانت صدمة عنيفه اضطرت العربة بعدها الى التوقف و ظهرت نتيجة الصدمة بلونة كبيرة مولمة فوق جنهة الفيل
In the end came a violent shock - the vehicle forced its way past him without stopping, and a surprising result appeared: a painful bump on the elephant's head.

و صاح الناس و ارتفعت اصوات العربات الكثيرة التي وقفت خلف المعطل
And the people screamed, and the voices of the many cars that stood behind the frozen vehicle rose...

بيب بيب اواء توت عوم عووم فظن الفيل ان ذلك القطيع من الحيوانات الحديدية يستعد للهجوم عليه و الانتقام منه فاستدار و انطلق هاربا بسرعة ناجية شاطي النيل
"Beep-beep..." "Awaa... awaa" "Toot-toot..."
The elephant thought that the herd of iron animals was preparing to attack him in revenge, so he turned, and quickly dashed to escape to the Low Nile...

و انقلبت الدنيا و دقت اجراس التيليفونات بقوة مراكز البوليسو في بيت المديرالحديقة و اجتمع و انطلقوم صفوفا صفوفا يبحثون عن الفيل الهارب الذي يهاجم العربات المسالمة في شوارع المدينة
The world overturned. The guards' telephones sounded in police stations, and in the park keeper's home. The guards got together and set out in rows upon rows to look for the fugitive elephant who had attacked the peaceful vehicles in the streets of town.

و سمع صديقنا الطفل بالجبر فهز راسه و قال لقد كنت اعرف ان هذا الفيل الصغير يفكر في شيء خطير
Our friend, the small child, heard the news. He shook his head and said, "I knew that little elephant was thinking about something dangerous..."

و اخيرا وجدوا الفيل الصغير مختفيا تحت الكوبري و صديقته العصفورة تحاول ان تثرح له و تمسح دموعة
Finally they found the little elephant hiding under a bridge, and his friend the sparrow tried to comfort him, and dried his tears.

و عادالى الحديقة ليستمع مساء الى صديقته و هي تحكى له حكاياتها عن المدينة و وحوشها المحولة
They returned to the garden every night after that, so the elephant could listen to his friend tell her tales of the city, and its unnamed creatures.

و ظلت البالونة الكبير المولمة فوق جنهة الفيل الصغير و كانت رحلته الاولى و الاخيرة في ادغال المدينة الكبيرة
And the big painful bump on the elephant's head went away.
And it was his first and last journey in the jungles of the big city.

بعد المطر

After the rain. Or rather, what I had assumed would be Alexandria after the rain. In fact the photos below show merely a brief gap between days on end of sudden, merciless and entirely unexpected monsoons that have apparently been going on for most of the winter, and look to continue for a little longer yet. In the first hour of the first class of 2012, Ustaadh Gad wrote on the board the 'higma' or proverb of the day :اؤال الغيث قطرة or, 'rain begins with one drop'. That night, it did. The irony was not lost on anyone.

Below: a flooded Wabuur al Maya yesterday afternoon. Whole streets have been turned into rivers. Arab drivers are about as equipped to deal with the rain as the British are with the snow, despite both being a yearly occurrence in their respective countries. No windscreen wipers, for one thing. I particularly enjoyed one man in Withnail-style plastic bag shoes returning Fat Halla supermarket, and two more attempting to start a car submerged in a foot or more of murky water.

While things have hardly come to a complete standstill, transport to and from the Institute over the first week back has been a little confused; twice as many buses are already needed to cope with the volume of students now living in town, and now they struggle to arrive on time. For those who planned to roll out of bed and into class, a twenty-five minute wait in the rain has come as something of a shock.

Below: Attempts to cross a side road leading to the roundabout. The rubber tyres were a great idea for a dam but make an unsteady bridge. Someone, though, has also had the forethought to arrange some bits of tile so we don't have to resort to actually swimming or God forbid going near the road.

At the roundabout, it starts to rain again, just twenty minutes after the last downpour. A group of young guys run by, yelling "Gaw gamiil!" - "beautiful weather!" in our direction, possibly assuming because we are British we're in our element.

Above: two security men huddle in the tiny booth to stay dry.
Below: On the way to Shalalat gardens - because of flooding we are forced to walk down the middle of the road, daintily avoiding oncoming traffic.

What was previously the scariest crossing point on the way to the ACL centre now seems less so, as drivers are forced to slow down. The threat of being run over has been replaced with that of being drenched if a passing vehicle ploughs through a puddle. Only twice does this happen but the first time it is compounded by my staggering backwards and into a dip in the road, also full of water. Awkward.

A brief stomp around the tiny park by the roadside becomes a trek through miniature swamps, hopping from trees on isolated islands to mercifully dry areas where stray dogs huddle, looking confused.

Below: some potential new computer wallpapers. Yes I have a new camera lens. Apparently it's pretty resiliant as well.

Upon exiting the park we decide it would be well worth our while to make an emergency trip to Carrefour (it's currently celebrating its 9th birthday! Balloons EVERYWHERE!) to buy new, undamaged socks and imported biscuits. As we pull up outside the shopping centre our otherwise silent taxi driver nods towards the carpark and says without a trace of humour, "bahr" - 'sea'. It's true.

A few final photos from wanderings down to the seafront, just a little while later - all sparkling pavements and rippling neon lights. Eventually I will get tired of photographing the streaked and stained but ever-elegant Wabuur al Maya lady - but not today.

In a week already made somewhat hazy by changing timetables, language readjustment and a variety of attempts to extend the new year's hangover, it has been strangely refreshing to wake up to the sound (though not the smell, sadly) of the rain, to stand on a chair and peer through the narrow kitchen window at a half-hidden, bedraggled world. Reflected on the ground, buildings reach twice as high, and cars and cats alike make slow, cautious progress across a second sky.

Very little information on Egypt made the British news over the Christmas period, but I was pleased to see odd articles on things I'd never noticed (or thought I hadn't, assuming more old ladies and schoolgirls had been protesting than I'd imagined), such as the eyepatch phenomenon http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/shortcuts/2011/dec/18/eyepatches-egpyt, or the knock-on effects (or lack of them) of the revolution for Egyptian women: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-africa-16398660.

The latest surprising turn of events is that Mohamed ElBaradei, a prominent political figure, former head of the UN nuclear watchdog and Nobel Peace Prize winner, has taken the decision to step down from candidacy in the presidential elections due to what he believe is a frustrating lack of fundamental democratic change since last January, and quite possibly the huge success of the main Islamist parties in elections so far. He is not alone in his exasperation, as will doubtless become apparent in less than two weeks' time on the anniversary of the 25th of January uprisings: conveniently when we had planned to visit a friend in Cairo. Groups such as Mosireen, Tweeters across the globe ('Egypt' was the most popular tag last year) and the ever-reliable taxi drivers anticipate large-scale demonstrations and disturbances up and down the country, with unpredictable results. What else is new.