Love in a Hot Climate or How I Met Your Mother the Bedouin way

Tags

Bedouin, Cultural differences, Dating, How I Met Your Mother, love, Marriage, Men and women, Relationships, Traditions

A is a young bedouin. 

He’s smart and quick and very generous. He taught himself English while working in an airport carrying luggage and glimpsing at a world of incomprehensible men and women in flip flops and sun hats.

A likes peach juice (and always shares it with whoever happens to be around), owns a little house and 10 sheep and wants to know about the world. Europe is particularly baffling.

‘Where do European men meet their women?’ he asks, looking in the side mirror and struggling to supress an embarrassed smile.

“Well, it depends. At work, at university maybe. Parties. How about you? How did you meet your wife?’

“Well, I didn’t. Not before the wedding.’

‘That’s a bit risky. What if you didn’t like her?”

‘Well, I knew everything about her. I’d talked to her brothers. And her father. Her whole village knew her. They told me about her.’

 “Ok. But you still didn’t know her personally. That’s brave.”

“No, it’s not. You trust a complete stranger. You know nothing about their family, taste, history, health or good name. You just see them. That’s a bit risky.’

Oh. I never thought of it this way. In retrospect, maybe I should have consulted a few villagers here and there:)
I finished the rest of my peach juice in silence.

Let it rain, let it rain

Tags

Countryside, Desert, Life in the Middle East, Rain, Water, Weather

It’s been raining for 3 days.

Here, this is as unusual as an April sunny day in the north of Norway. And equally joyous.

Nobody uses umbrellas. What sort of fool would want protection from water?

I once saw a group of customers in a cafe asking for their table to be moved outside when it started to rain.

It took me one year to find an oversized umbrella in an obscure Chinese shop. Not sure why I wanted an umbrella, perhaps because I felt strangely under-equipped for life’s various challenges without one.  

When I first took it to work and parked it in a corner, its modest watery load evaporating quickly, people laughed. Not quite the smartest investment ever.

The other day a driver took me to a meeting somewhere in the countryside.

“Look now, it’s green!”, he cried filled with joy, as the brown hues of the desert on both sides were for once punctuated by small patches of green. .

I always lived in places that view rain as slight inconvenience.

‘Oh, shoot, it’s raining and I was going to wear my suede shoes today!’

I can wear my suede shoes almost every day here. Not today though. 

Today I’m going to wear waterproof shoes as I navigate the little rivers in the streets, try to pretend my huge umbrella is not with me and smile back at the other happy sailors.    

 

5 things you absolutely must do in Cairo

Tags

Cairo, Cairo pictures, Coptic Cairo, felucca down the Nile, Islamic Cairo, things to do in Cairo, Whirling Dervishes

There are a million things you must do in Cairo. The joys of the city are as endless as its rivers of traffic.

Its charm, however, is impossible to match.

The Pyramids and the Egyptian Museum are worlds in themselves. I couldn’t possibly do them justice here – although I might still try one day:)

For now, let me tempt you with 5 small scale wonders, which filled my heart with joy, my ears with a cacophony of noise and my sandals with Cairo’s persistent reddish dust:

1. Walk through centuries-old Islamic Cairo, have a cup of coffee and a nargyllah and take in the timeless rituals of the residents’ evening.

2. Walk around Coptic Cairo, where the dead rest in small square houses attended by quiet old women in rustling robes.

3. Go see the whirling dervishes of Al-Azar, who work themselves into a trance as their bodies errupt in flower-like explosions of colour.

4. Stop in one of the city’s gardens and take in the fragrance and the colours. Try not to stare at the blushing young couples hiding in full view. For countless young men and women, a public garden is the only chance for a good old snog, away from the careful eyes of the family.   

5. Take a felucca down the Nile at sunset and be awed by the view and also by this man, who sails it single-handedly while burning 5000 calories and leisurely smoking a fag.

Cairo is

Tags

Big city, Egypt, Hassle, Nile, Places to see in the Middle East, traffic, Travel to Cairo

I have been in Cairo for a full mad week now, which explains my absence from my favourite online playground.

Enter Cairo.

Noisy, alive, sprawling, fast, dusty, fragrant, colorful.

This city is a heavy-breathing, powerful beast. Old French villas, elegant slim mosques, brown tower blocks and the Nile flowing calmly through the restless, ever changing human landcape.

The music of Cairo is a never ending cacophony of car noise. The traffic is a murderous shambles. I spent my first two days here worrying I was to start and end my trip on the same side of the road.

It is practically impossible to cross the street. No car ever stops. They come at you in their thousands, at crushing speed, like one of those massive waves you see on TV at a particularly succesful surfing contest.  You basically jump into this sea of blasting, jumbled metal, close your eyes and pray.

Now I’m no traffic sissy. I’ve done my share of bad traffic in Amman, Istanbul, Mumbai and a few other brave places where people take their lives in their hands every day to get milk. Cairo makes them look like a village roundabout in Germany.

And the hassle, oh the hassle, please come here if you want the write the book of hassle.

You know that feeling of sailing a crowd on your own, you and your thoughts, unseen and untalked to? Forget it! You are never alone in Cairo.

Any tiny trip is a social occasion. People talk to you randomly, men follow you singing, boys shout as they fly past on scooters, kids run into your knees, old ladies approach you with tissues, mints and cigarettes.

Welcome to Egypt.

The funny thing is I love it. The energy of the city is splendid.

The trays that waiters carry in the morning to cater to bored, winking policemen, the sun playing with the iron cast balconies of crumbling houses, men rowing down the Nile, fruit and veg overflowing.

The dance of everyday life and the smart men and women of an ancient land talking about the frustrating chaos of the present. The twinkle in their eyes, the cloud of perfume, that beautiful, glowing skin.

Lamb testicles on restaurant menus.
Stumbling upon an island of fragrant jasmine on a side street, the moon over the understated beauty of an old mosque, cafes where people sit in rows smoking argyllas and watching the spectacle of the world.

Cairo is

Of lines, rivers and desert beauty

Tags

Borders, Holy water, Jordan, Jordan River, Places to see in the Middle East, The Baptism Site, travel

One sunny morning drive out of Amman through one of its colourful suburbs, take the desert road and marvel at the emptiness around, as it stretches out in shades of yellow, dusty light.

And then, 50 minutes later, arrive at the Baptism site, on the Jordan river. (more on the history of the place here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baptism_of_Jesus)

Once you are there, wait patiently on a wooden bench in the shade and chat with the guy who makes nice, strong Arabic coffee. 

As this is a border area, you are not allowed beyond the hut of the friendly barista on your own. There is a mini bus every half an hour or so, which will take down a winding, scorched road to the Baptism Site.  

And then you are there. The landscape is one of dry, harsh, quiet beauty. 

The river is a mere greenish trickle today.

It is hard to imagine it as it must have been 2000 years ago. And yet, despite its miniature size, it is hard to take it all in.

The sights are bare and uncompromising as you walk around with a guide and your thoughts.

And then you get to the border. Jordan and Israel stand face to face over the exhausted little river. 

The Israeli guards give you bored looks over the water. The two flags fly in the blinding light, barely 10 metres apart. 

A bunch of pilgrims in white ceremonial dresses get in the water on the Israeli side.

On the Jordanian side, a few sun burnt Brits are filling their bottles with holy water. They could shake hands with the other country’s tourists if they stretched out a bit. 

Two sides to every river.