(written on actual thanksgiving...not posted because my lovely internet connection is completely gone. we're in deep mourning.)
My usual Thanksgiving plans involve watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade and (semi) helping in the kitchen before gorging myself on turkey, pineapple stuffing, mashed potatoes, creamed corn pudding, apple bread, pumpkin pie, apple pie, and broccoli bake.
Today, my room-mates and I rolled out of bed early, took a taxi to Tahrir Square and bought plane tickets and then train tickets for our Eid vacation (I really don’t want to think about how much money I spent today). Kelly and I then got a guided tour of the Wikala of Al-Ghouri (in Arabic, Kelly translated and I got every third word or so). The Wikala is a 14th century hotel for merchants that’s been beautifully maintained, and our tour guide even took up us into the private quarters so we could peer through the original mashrabiyya screens.
The Mosque of al Azhar is a block or two away from the caravanserai . I wandered in alone as Kelly had to retrieve her camera (she’d left it behind in the dungeon of the Wikala, which has been converted into an arts and crafts center). There were students studying in every corner and the Mosque was full of people (very unlike Ibn Tulun, which was deserted). I walked up to the entrance to the praying area, unsure If I was allowed to enter (as a female and a foreigner, I didn’t think my chances were too good) but a man who was cleaning the carpets motioned me inside. Men were sprawled out, sleeping in the quiet shade, others were studying, still a few more were praying. I sat with my back to an ancient pillar, hidden near the doorway, and sat quietly until Kelly found me (she recovered her camera).
Hannah and Joanna met us outside of Al-Azhar, and after walking through the nearby local market, we were on our way to the Citadel.
Originally constructed by Salah ad Din, the Citadel rises above Cairo near the Muqattam Cliffs. There were four of us there—all girls—alone except for each other and unescorted. We were hassled from the minute we got out of the taxi to the minute we left, a few hours later. I’m pretty sure a ton of Egyptians have pictures of the four of us looking extremely pissed off. I’m not sure what the attraction was, but we couldn’t go two seconds without someone asking to take a picture with us or just taking a picture of us, without asking. However, the sites were worth it: the Mosque of Mohammed Ali dominates the skyline and is filled with lighted globes handing from the decorated ceiling. The Egyptian Military Museum—co-developed with the cooperation of the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (I’m not kidding, there’s a plaque)—is a fascinating place for a history major and museum fanatic to visit. I saw perhaps the best label of any artifact anywhere there: a statue labeled simply as “The Best Soldier on Earth.” There was no name, just the superlative.
After we escaped the clutches of the schoolchildren we made our way to the Maadi House for Thanksgiving Dinner, which AUC’s ISA office kindly informed us of. It’s an expat center of some type in a villa in the neighborhood of Maadi—quite lovely and difficult for black and white taxi drivers to find. Ours asked at least ten people on the way. At Maadi House we were able to eat turkey and mashed potatoes smothered with gravy and excellent carrots and pumpkin pie and coffee flavored cake…not quite the Thanksgiving my parents are throwing at home, but in this case Egypt came through. The only thing I missed—a lot—was stuffing. We met Tommy there, and after our meal he and Joanna and Kelly and I played a rousing game of contact ping-pong before returning to our apartment for…the first Christmas music of the season. On our way to Maadi we passed by the Nile Hilton, which had a neon billboard scrolling “Happy New Year 2009!” We think they’re getting a little ahead of themselves…but we still managed to cover three holidays in one day.
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