no internet and no beer make brandon something something…

I went on a trip with a small group a few weeks ago to Minia, in middle Egypt.  I know essentially next to nothing about any of the sites we visit on any of these trips, but it’s enjoyable just to go and learn along the way.  We saw a lot of interesting things, but were not allowed to take any pictures in some of the cooler places.  For example, the tombs at Bani Hasan, which are decorated with amazingly intricate paintings of scenes of funeral preparation, people working, wildlife, what appeared to be specific dance steps, and dozens and dozens of specific wrestling moves (which included old favorites, like the pile driver).  Another example was at Tounah al-Gabal, where there are catacombs that extend at least 3 km, and are filled with thousands upon thousands of mummified ibises and baboons.  Not to say that there wasn’t plenty to photograph.  See below.

One other thing that I found really cool/somewhat disturbing:  In many places we would find ourselves walking over ground that appeared to be covered in light red red rocks, so thick that you could not see the sand beneath.  Turns out they weren’t rocks at all, but the sun-bleached shards of must literally have been hundreds and hundreds of thousands of broken Roman era pots, or as our encyclopedic guide, John Swanson, called them, the “plastic bags” of the Romans.  Use and toss.  The joys of living in an empire built on consumption and excess must be universal.

I guess it’s been a while since I updated this.  Things have been pretty hectic here, with the term winding/crashing down, withdrawal forms to sign, exams to write, and various trips taken.  Today marks the beginning of the second week-long Eid holiday this semester.  If I understand correctly, the first Eid was a mark of celebration and this one is a mark of sacrifice.  Meaning that tomorrow the streets are supposed to begin running red with the blood of the lambs and goats and such that families will have hanging out in front of their dwellings for streetside sacrifice.  Yumm!  Carcasses don’t bother me so much, but I’m not one for watching the life slip (drip?) away from any animal.  Fortunately, I have heard from a few people that the practice is not quite as common in my part of town as it is in other areas.  Unfortunately, as I was walking around today I noticed several pickup trucks full of sheep driving around and stopping to pass the wooly beasts over and down to crowds of excited men on street corners.  You don’t win friends with salad here, either.

Here are a few pictures from when I visited the Giza pyramids a couple of months ago.  The last two show the silly things people either choose to do for a photograph, or which people are slightly coerced into doing by a tourism “policeman” who grabs your camera out of your hand and of course wants a big tip for the clever keepsake he has created for you.

And the heavens parted, and the light of the full moon shone down upon me.  And there before mine eyes did I behold the gloriest of all visions.  And I did tremble as the sparrow out of Egypt alighted softly on my shoulder and whispered to mine ear, “Sí, se puede”

All indications were that Halloween is no big deal here.  I saw a few signs up for activities and heard about a few parties, but it sounded like it was mostly ex-pat family-type stuff.  I had just planned on staying in tonight to finish up grading mid-term exams (whee hoo!), but I ended up walking over to the grocery store to pick up a few things.  I noticed more people on the streets and a few kids in costumes walking around, but nothing too crazy.  My first indication that something was up was in the store, when some lady was yelling because they had no eggs to sell her.  I’ve never seen anything less than crates and crates of eggs stacked along the floors in one section of the store, and some guy told me they put them in the back and weren’t selling any more tonight.  Ok.  As I was checking out a whole crowd of people, employees and customers, came running into the store screaming, and I could here the pap-pap-pap of a dozen eggs smashing into the storefront.  So of course I went out to see what was going on.  I was only in the store for maybe 5 minutes, and suddenly the streets are filled with mobs of kids running around with handfulls of eggs and tomatoes and whatever might splat when they threw it.  Exciting!  I hung around for a bit to watch the commotion, and ran into one of my students.  He said the real action was up the street, so I let him lead the way.  Turns out Egyptian kids put Americans to shame with their Halloween shenanigans.  Eggs were flying everywhere.  And everyone was having a good time.  Cops were confiscating eggs, then turning around and tossing them right back.  My own bags were searched a half-dozen times, but I guess they weren’t too interested in my frozen corn and bottles of hot sauce, though I’m pretty sure my yogurt could have made for a fun toss.  Passing cars were a favorite target, and the only ones spared were those already covered in sticky yellow goo.  A short, skinny little Arabic Mr. T walked by and everyone laughed and yelled “Rocky III”.  Amazing!  My student disappeared and came back with eggs for all.  So of course I obliged and let mine fly alongside theirs into a distant crowd, the offensive meeting equally with groans of dismay on one side of the street and hoots of delight on the other.  I made it out unscathed.

My first Corvair spotted in Egypt!

1960 Corvair 500?

Almost.  Actually it is the quintessential Egyptian taxi cab, a 60’s Fiat 1500.  I love these cars.  They look just like a squished up 1960 Corvair, right down to the backwards ball-cap extension over the rear windshield.  Truth be told, the template for Emily’s hottest-item Corvair cookies at last years Portland Corvair club Christmas auction were actually modelled on one of these.  Un-photoshopped versions below.

Unrelated update:  my kitchen window looks across a central air-shaft into the kitchen of my neighbors.  There are only two flats to a floor in my building, but I have yet to actually meet these neighbors.  In fact, I have only ever occasionally seen a single older woman through our kitchen windows, which are raised high enough to only reveal a head.  As I understand it, there are varying degrees in which the Muslim women here keep themselves covered from the prying eyes of the male populace.  The most common of which is their hair.  I am in my kitchen quite often, much to the obvious dismay of my neighbor.  On several occasions I have noticed her over there, and I presume she has noticed me as well, because the next time I look she suddenly has a scarf on her head.  I feel bad knowing that she feels she has to go to this trouble within the comforts and otherwise privacy of her home.  But there is nothing I can do about the design of the building.  Perhaps this has never been a problem before since the kitchen is predominantly the domain of the female here.  I am certain a man lives there too, yet for all my time spent in the kitchen I have not once spotted him across the way.  Anyway, I just went in to check on my dinner and saw that curtains have been conspicuously installed.  Okely dokely, neighborino.  Malish.

It’s raining!  Or at least it was.  Briefly.

So I was at my computer grading homework assignments when I heard the crash of my mystery flower plant toppling over.  The winds here pick up often, so this wasn’t the first time the plant fell over, but when I turned to look I saw that my entire skyline had disappeared into a blanket of yellow haze – my first Saharan sandstorm!  I went out to my balcony to snap a few pictures and realized I was getting wet.  Rain!  No better excuse has yet presented itself to take a break from working.  I grabbed my hoody and took to the streets with my camera.

At this point my photo tour was cut short.  There are two types of police on the streets here.  Those dressed in white are the traffic cops, and are usually not packing.  Those in black are the real police, and they are usually carrying some sort of assault rifle and/or sidearm.  The lesson I learned today is that if I want to take pictures I need to be quick and keep moving.  Standing on the corner for 5 minutes waiting for the perfect shot of a passing Vespa with a beautiful minaret in the background of the palm tree-filled roundabout is not a good idea (even though the odds were definitely in my favor that within another 5 I would have had my shot).  A black shirt police truck rolled up and the cop inside immediately demanded my camera, which I admit may have looked a little strange with a giant wide-angle lense screwed on.  This, of course, was something I was not going to do willingly, for fear of never seeing it again.  So I played my foreigner card and pretended I didn’t understand.  When he got out of the truck I immediately flipped the camera around to show him the pictures I had been taking of my building.  I said “I live here” and pointed to the camera and to my building (which was unfortunately to my back from where I had been standing and pointing my camera).  Eventually he got back in the truck and all I really understood him to say was “It is forbidden.”  “Ok, malish, malish” (sorry, sorry) was my reply as I high-tailed back up to my flat.  the end.

“I do not understand,” Bishop Morehouse said. “It seems to me that all things of the mind are metaphysical. That most exact and convincing of all sciences, mathematics, is sheerly metaphysical. Each and every thought-process of the scientific reasoner is metaphysical. Surely you will agree with me?”

“As you say, you do not understand,” Ernest replied. “The metaphysician reasons deductively out of his own subjectivity. The scientist reasons inductively from the facts of experience. The metaphysician reasons from theory to facts, the scientist from facts to theory. The metaphysician explains the universe by himself, the scientist explains himself by the universe.”

“Thank God we are not scientists,” Dr. Hammerfield murmured complacently.

– Jack London, The Iron Heel

I am teaching three classes this semester.  One of those is General Chemistry.  That class is pretty easy and straightforward (not much has changed in chemistry, at least in the realm covered in an introductory course, in nearly a century).  The other two are different sections of the same course, Scientific Thinking.  This is a core curriculum course that every student is required to take to graduate from AUC.  The point of the course, as I understand it, is to give the students a clear understanding of just what this thing called science really is.  We start with an introduction to the scientific method, and then give a brief overview of the history of cosmology, highlighting the idea of paradigm shifts (i.e. geocentrism -> heliocentrism, etc.).  Thats where we are currently at.  From here we will discuss questions of life and ethics.  I like the class a lot, but am looking forward to next semester when I will be more prepared with my own material.  For better or worse, the instructors are allowed quite a lot of independence in designing their courses.  For example, I just learned that while I have been teaching Newtonian physics and General Relativity, another instructor has been teaching Erich Fromm!  Granted, his is the class I would probably prefer to be taking, but it is hard for me to accept that they are listed as the same course.  Either way, I enjoy teaching my sections.  I wish I could arrange for certain family members to be here when I touch on such topics as “what is a scientific theory?” and “much like the gravity, evolution is also a theory.”

Here are some random photos from my balcony and around the hood:

First of all, congratulations to Meredith and Andrew, who got married yesterday.  I truly regret missing what sounded like a beautiful time.

On Saturday I went on a bus tour of Cairo.  We sort of circumnavigated the greater Cairo area, which was nice because we went out to sites and cities which I had heard of, but probably would not otherwise have visited on my own.  Overall it was a somewhat depressing, but highly informative tour.  Cairo is one of the most densely populated cities in the world, and it is full of millions upon millions of desperately poor people.  I thought I understood something about class divisions, but truly I did not.  We went up on top of the desert plateau, near the cliffs which had recently collapsed onto the people living below.  The view was breathtaking.  If you look closely at the pictures, you can make out the pyramids in the background through the smog.  We went out past some of the last remaining fertile agricultural areas that once made up the bulk of the land along the Nile River.  These are disappearing as the people search for new (safe) space to build their quasi-legal domiciles.  We learned about the un/official policy here that whether legally or illegally built, once a residence is established it is observed.  Such was the case of the shanties built dangerously close to the base of an unstable cliff face, and such is the case of the crude apartments shooting up where crops used to grow.  And what should the government do?  Throw the people back back out in the street?  Pen them to the interior of the city while everyone else flees to the expanding outer edges?

I will spare you the rant on state investment and putting people to work, and on where the real wealth of nations comes from, that briefly appeared here.  Instead, enjoy the following pictures I snapped!