The Revolution Relapse

The 19^th of March 2012 is the anniversary of the constitutional amendments referendum, the relapse of our unfinished Egyptian Revolution against injustice, unemployment, corruption, and inheritance of power.

The constitutional amendments referendum was held on the 19^th of March 2011. More than half of its components were about the mechanism and conditions of candidacy for the presidential elections. I went to vote in the afternoon in a nearby committee. I remember I spent a couple of hours on my feet under the blazing sun in a long, seemingly motionless queue of women (mostly yes-voters), listening to their drivel talk about the goddamned constitutional changes! I was wallowing in vexation when my overzealous sister popped next to me in the queue. She was smiling jubilantly & her eyes were teeming with ecstasy, so I guessed that she was done with her voting. She offered me some water and urged me to take her conspicuous tiger print umbrella because she thought my head must be on fire! I mulishly refused & thanked her politely but the nosey woman ahead of me interrupted our talk & implored me to take it so that she could benefit from my shade! So I ended up holding that remarkable umbrella high up to shade the woman ahead of me for almost an hour! Although I was sweltering, my arm was aching, my nape was sunburnt, and my head & feet were throbbing, it was worth it… despite the fact that the yes-voters won in the end.

And that was the second mistake made by the revolutionists, the first one was leaving Tahrir Square so soon before seeing actual reforms take place. It’s because of those amendments that we’re still slogging through the mires of the old regime, the comeuppance for going to vote while people were being killed in Mohamed Mahmoud Street near Tahrir Square!

According to the referendum on constitutional amendments which was approved by a majority of Egyptians, the road map agreed upon was to hold the parliamentary elections, then the presidential elections and finally commence writing the constitution through a committee chosen by members of the People’s Assembly and the Consultation Council (Shura) in the presence of a legislative and an executive authority elected by the people. According to this path, opening the door to the presidential elections is supposed to be directly after the elections of the Shura Council, i.e. at the end of the month of February. This means that Egypt will have an elected president in the middle of the month of April 2012 at the latest, and working in parallel to that will be the selection of the founding committee of the constitution to begin the drafting and completion by the dates specified in advance in the referendum, six months to the Committee’s composition and six months to draft the Constitution.

The Military Council has identified a different road map that requires writing the constitution before the presidential elections with a promise to conduct these elections in June 2012, which means:

• It      contradicts the constitutional amendments referendum which was approved by      more than 14 million Egyptians in March 2011.
• The      drafting, completion, and sanction of the constitution before the presidential      elections could lead to the postponement of the elections or worse, to      rush the committee into writing the Constitution of Egypt without giving      the community that is aspiring to democracy, the chance for necessary discussions.
• This      proposal may grant special privileges and exceptional statuses to the      Military Establishment in the Constitution that might threaten the      democratic construction, in which all the institutions of the modern state      that we seek to build should be under the supervision of the authorities elected      by the people represented in the Parliament and the President.

A year has passed since the revolution. We accomplished a lot; we busted out of oblivion and silence, we broke the fear barrier, we toppled the regime, ousted Mubarak and put him, his ministers who represented this corrupted regime as well as his sons behind bars. We overthrew the succession plan not only in presidency but in all the institutions of the state. We had the fairest elections in 60 years, despite the zillion transgressions from most of the candidate parties and members! We watched the first meeting of the People’s Assembly with great joy and hope. Our journey towards democracy is not over. We have come so far but we’ve still got so far to go. In order to complete the journey, we needed to demonstrate and call on the basic demands of the revolution, i.e. the transfer of power from military to civilian rule as soon as possible, and writing the Constitution of Egypt under the civil authorities elected by the people.

Masrena Movement

Ever since the 25^th of Jan 2011 and like thousands of Egyptians coming from different social and cultural levels, I’ve started to watch the news and listen to people talking about politics with great interest. Today when you walk in the streets of Cairo, political jargon will drift into your ears from every direction. Political jargon that was once unfathomable even to university graduates is now coming out of the mouths of common people like grocers, cab drivers, yokels, laborers or a get-together of retirees at a local café tossing dice and sliding chips on a backgammon board!

Thanks to Dr. Moataz Abdel Fattah, Ph.D. Associate Professor of Political Science at Cairo University and Central Michigan University, who contributed to raise political awareness among many of us through talk shows and social media, he made politics intelligible and interesting with his articulate and humble manner. He also has a good sense of humor; he recounts anecdotes, proverbs and metaphors colloquially to reach the most illiterate of minds. He interacts with his followers on Facebook and replies to biting remarks (sometimes offensive) with apologies! He shares his articles, videos, and points of view then engages in an interactive debate with his followers.

One day, he shared a group called Masrena مصرنا (Our Egypt) on his Facebook page. I blindly pressed the Like button before even knowing what Masrena was about. I checked it out and watched the introductory video on their website www.masrena.org.

 

So what is Masrena about?

(Translated)

Vision: Masrena that we want, where justice is its origin, equality is its essence, and freedom is its logic of life. Masrena that we want is Egypt the human and his dignity, allowing all citizens their right to life, freedom of belief and expression, equal opportunities and true citizenship. We want Our Egypt to be the renaissance and the knowledge, where its youthfulness is renewed by its youth, creating a cherished homeland, an unyielding nation, and a great future. We want Our Egypt to contribute as much as it benefit from its environment and its regional and global surroundings, to be the conduct, the headway, and the fate which we insist on making its tomorrow better than its yesterday.

Mission: Masrena is an Egyptian youth movement aiming to establish an entity for young people in order to unite their determination to shift The Egypt We Want from the realm of dream to the realm of reality and achievement.

Strategic Objectives:

• Gather      the largest number of doers in the Egyptian society under one umbrella,      which represents the original goals of the 25th of Jan Revolution.
• Contribute      to present the elite of Egyptian youth to the community who are capable of      achieving comprehensive development.
• Work      on creating a real spirit of concord in the Egyptian street between the      different intellectual and political currents.
• Pressure      the decision makers to bring about the goals of the revolution.
• Increase      the area of conscientious political partaking by the largest possible      number of Egyptians.

The founders or the board of trustees of this movement come from diverse political, social and religious backgrounds; one of them is Dr. Moataz Abdel Fattah. I immediately subscribed to become a registered member and invited my friends and family as well. I attended their first meeting in Nasr city at Raba’a Mosque on the 8^th of Jan 2012. I saw all the cheery faces in the video, Khaled Mansour, Ziad Aly, Wael khalil, Mohamed Omar, Wael Ghonim, Shady Sherif, Bara’a Ashraf, and Mohamed Diab. All except the one face I was so eager to meet in person, Dr. Moataz Abdel Fattah. Unfortunately he was vey sick that day and I even heard someone say he was bedridden. But I was glad to attend. Their ardor, optimism, sincerity, and passion for Egypt healed my agonizing soul. The meeting was a morale booster to the large number of attendees who turned up. I remember one of the speakers, Ziad Aly, got so emotional when he mentioned our martyrs, God bless their souls, how the local Egyptian media keeps distorting their image by describing them as thugs, and the absurdity and perversity of our laws that are keeping their murders on the loose; some were even absolved by the civil court and some were promoted occupationally while many protesters and activists were sentenced to prison by the oppressive military court! His weeping made most of the attendees teary-eyed except for one man who showed callous indifference by a blatant comment to the speaker that he shouldn’t exploit people’s emotions! He also added that we were not gathered to cry on martyrs, we were there to get acquainted with Masrena movement and its initiatives. Of course everyone looked daggers at him, the gracious speaker apologized to absorb all the boos echoing off the walls and one woman insisted that the speaker must take back his apology on the fact that if we lose our sympathies, we simply stop being humans! To our amazement, he stood up and fired another blatant comment at the speaker, but this time everybody hollered ‘sit… sit… sit…’ and so he flounced furiously out of the meeting room. Good-riddance!

The valiant man (in the photo) facing the police truck that was hosing down the demonstrators with water to disperse them, was sitting among us. Unfortunately, the speaker refused to reveal his identity or even motion to where he was sitting because he wanted to respect his wishes to remain anonymous. Everyone squinted at the photo in a vain attempt to conjure up a face of the anonymous man, and then turned their heads back and forth… eyes wandering in all directions, scrutinizing faces but with no luck! Of course he received a hearty ovation from all the still-wondering attendees!

At the end of the meeting, the attendees hailed questions at the speakers and lots of them wanted to volunteer, so they gathered around Seif who was responsible for organizing field work at Masrena. Seif isn’t one of the cheery faces in the video but definitely he is one of the friendliest! I wanted to volunteer too and he was standing outside the meeting room shrouded by circles of vibrant bodies. Even though he is tall and thickset, I had a hard time spotting him among the throng and cutting in until his back with right in my face! I was tempted to tap his shoulder but I backed down and decided to wait for my turn. I felt sorry for him for having to answer more than one person at a time and listen to some chatty woman’s anecdotes. Finally, he heard my feeble voice and turned to face me. Yay!

(To be continued…)

It’s a man’s world… A patriarchal society… A chauvinistic society…

Or whatever you wish to call it!

If I got a penny every time I met a woman who was forced to quit her job by her beloved supportive unenvious husband—of course after making her life a living hell—only because she earned more than he did or because she fared better!

During their dreamy engagement chapter, the man assures his fiancée that he will support her all the way to fulfill her potential and move up the career ladder; he would still be the sole provider for the family even if she had a higher pay; her success is his success and vice versa. All that sweet talk reminds me of an adage which says that night time talk is buttered; when the morning sun rises, the butter melts away. Marriage is the morning after; the morning where all promises are retracted and even forgotten. Before marriage, men promise their wives-to-be that they will share in housework, running errands and helping the kids with their homework! All these promises go down the drain once the marriage certificate is signed. Reality unfolds before the ink is dry… The endless drudgery of housework awaits her solely and the poor scammed wife realizes her obligation to work, not to fulfill her potential, but to help her husband to provide for the family. If she dares complain how she can’t find the time to take a decent shower, sleep six hours straight, finish an important project or report which she has to present to her boss the next day or simply how swamped she is and could desperately use a hand, she would be hailed with the familiar I-am-the-man tirade—the woman is responsible for doing house chores and rearing the kids while the man has to work his ass off to provide for the family and pay the bills; you can stay at home whenever you choose to quit your job but for a man, quitting it’s not an option; if you can’t handle work and housework then give up your job but you’ll have to give up all the luxuries as well; which means that the children won’t go to private schools, no private tutors at home, no dining out and weekly outings, no dishwasher, no sport classes, NO… NO… NO… and the list goes on.

In the end, he would accuse her of being insensitive, ungrateful, a slacker and worse… a bad wife! A damned wife literally, if at the end of a very hectic day she failed to please his manly-beastly-birthright-privileged-prompt needs! He would curse the day he met her; he would threaten her with divorce or his inalienable right to remarry and how he condescended to marry her and spare her spinsterhood—how he bestowed upon her the honorable, to die for, almost unattainable title: Mrs.! Mrs. Woman is indebted to Mr. Man for the rest of her life. For the rest of her prosaic laborious with no happy ending nuptial life…

A typical day of Egyptian Mrs. Woman:

She wakes up at 6 am to prepare breakfast for everyone, wakes the kids up, helps them get ready for school, gets dressed and goes to work either directly or perhaps after making a short detour to drop off the kids at school. On the other hand, the husband relishes sleeping in under the pretext of having to work so hard all day (insinuating that his wife is a mollycoddled idle) and how that life-altering extra hour can greatly affect his productivity and performance which are translated into money. Nine hours later, the wife hastily grabs her handbag and runs toward the elevator. A few taps on the elevator call button… she dashes to the stairway, skipping two steps at a time… all through the vestibule to the outside door of the building where she works and into the streets of Cairo. Now she has to brace herself for the worst traffic jam ever—whether you’re driving or using any sort of transportation, it’s still going to be a torturous journey back home for God knows how long, full of cussing and nervous breakdowns. Again, she might have to pick up the kids at school on her way. Once she’s home, she rushes into the kitchen first; still in her formal duds. She raps out cleanliness and tidiness imperatives to the kids while she bustles around in the kitchen to prepare lunch—a working mom depends heavily on precooked or partially-cooked meals; it could be a pack bought at a supermarket that only requires reheating or a half-cooked meal that she prepared the night before. With lots of commotion around her—kids tugging at her skirt, scampering mischievously in and out of the kitchen and nagging her for a cookie or a glass of water—she hardly manages to serve a decent meal on the dining table. Then she struggles for almost an hour to get her children eat their food as they grumble and snivel. She starts with coddling and cajoling; then gradually her voice rises in pitch and her smile wanes as she purses her lips. Sometimes, a disapproving stare is compelling enough; other times, an intimidating stare with a sudden bang on the table and uttering the words ‘Finish your plate NOW!’ sharply with her teeth clenched is necessary. When the lunch drama is over, the children are asked to wash their hands and take out their homework while the mother rushes into her bedroom to slip out of her formal clothes. And now the nerve-wracking homework drama is about to begin; it gets worse as the children move up the educational ladder. In their early school years, doing homework usually takes less than an hour; it’s unsophisticated and apprehensible for both the child and the parent. As the children advance in school, doing homework can take more than hour; sometimes with minimal supervision and other times, the mother has to sit down and explain the lesson first then supervise step-by-step the whole homework process. Depending on the school level and the educational level of the parents—the mother for the most part, the homework process may lead to a lot of conflict and aggravation between the parents and kids. When the homework ordeal is over, the mother is left emotionally depleted and famished. She lets her kids play with their toys or watch cartoon and heads to the kitchen to clean up and wash the dishes. She nibbles the tidbits left on the children’s plates and gobbles leftovers straight from the pot; in a few bites, she is satiated. She continues doing some chores and tidying up around the house, prepares a light snack for supper then tucks the children in bed. And just when she flops down on the sofa with the clicker in one hand and a mug of hot chocolate in the other, hoping for a rewarding chick-flick in a vain attempt to indulge herself, she hears the key turns softly in the door and her husband walks in. Although he looks exhausted, he still manages to say ‘Good evening’ with a wry smile on his face. She tosses the clicker away, lays the mug on the coffee table and walks to kitchen to fix her husband something to eat while he changes his clothes. They sit together on the dining table, barely making small talk to muffle the sounds of chomping, slurping, gulping and uncomfortable silence. He finishes… she cleans up again! They’re both exhausted and they have to wake up early the next day; it’s time to go to bed… On rare occasions, the husband has a 10% remnant of his manpower which he hates to see go to waste! 10% means only basics in case of reciprocal activity or merely prerequisite if it’s a one-sided activity—the usual! Some men can carry on filling their hunger with the 10% prerequisites, while women can’t! A woman needs at least 110% of reciprocal passionate attentive topnotch more-than-just-basics! At the end of the day, they both lie in bed feeling worn-out and profoundly frustrated.

The Black and White Tribulation

I was invited to a wedding last week. As usual, I was reluctant to go because I couldn’t figure out what to wear! And when this issue was resolved, I thought of the inevitable throbbing-feet syndrome that ensues every wedding and I had to make up my mind—my feet vs. my friend! Luckily, my friend won and I attended his wedding. He was very happy to see me and so were the rest of his family. Their genuine smiley and welcoming faces took my mind off my throbbing feet, but not for long. I had to join the revelers on the dance floor for a while because there was nothing else to do!

Egyptian weddings are so stereotypical. My God! The same dreary rituals, the same everything only with different faces! It starts with the seemingly interminable wedding march which turns into an indistinguishable toneless clamor. Little angels dressed in white leotards and cute white tutus make up the bride and groom’s entourage. They hold lit candles and usually perform a lame dance or just revolve around the bride and groom for a while. Every second is videotaped. Bright spotlights and cameras are strewn everywhere. Blinding flashlights force you to blink incessantly. Your face gets stuck in an affected smile for God knows how long that your cheeks feel achy! You wish you could take a deep breath and smooth the wrinkles on your face with your hands discreetly. When the wedding march is finally over, the bride and groom disappear mysteriously and the guests are ushered to the wedding hall and asked to take their seats. And just when everybody is settled down, the DJ plays the opening music as the wedded couple’s animated busts glide through the foggy entrance of the hall. They are ushered to their throne-like chairs on the wedding dais. Then the party attendants walk between the tables carrying trays loaded with glasses of red and orange sherbet and start serving the guests as well as the bride and groom. The wedding textbook says that the groom must offer the bride the first sip of sherbet from his glass and vice versa. Not only that, but this sherbet-sipping ritual must consummate with both the bride and groom drinking from one glass simultaneously! Absurd and theoretically impossible but capturing that moment in a photo is considered societally worthwhile and mandatory. An intimation of a non-existent kiss…

Then the earsplitting eclectic collection of music starts playing. Even the music is somehow clichéd as if the same out-of-date DJ is cut out for every wedding. The bride and groom will perform their opening dance; usually a slow dance, then other couples will join them on the dance floor. Moments later, everybody will be jigging amateurishly. As it gets warmer, sweat trickles down the groom’s face. Someone will be responsible for handing him a hankie every ten minutes; probably a sibling or a close friend. Later, that someone will take the groom’s jacket after advising him to it off to cool down. Now; the groom in his white shirt with visible underarm sweat stains is jigging freely with his bride whose headscarf is receding with every move she makes. Rings of scent-perspiring tottery guests encircle the bride and groom; stir the air every so often—wafts of perfume drift into your nostrils. And just when everybody’s in the middle of a dancing trance, the DJ plays a theme song; such a buzzkill! Without a word or even a beckon; everybody snaps out of the trance state, the bride and groom head to the dais and the guests take their seats. The theme song heralds the introduction of the multi-tier wedding cake, displayed on a dessert wagon moving smoothly through theatrical fog, ta-da! The headwaiter escorts the bride and groom towards the cake. Depending on the height of the cake and the number of tiers, the bride and groom might have to climb a step or two to cut the cake. They hold the knife handle together and cut the cake starting from the topmost tier all the way down. The headwaiter cuts out a piece of cake; lays it on a plate and hands them two forks. Again, like the sherbet-sipping ritual, the groom digs out a bite-size piece of cake with his fork and places it into his bride’s partially-opened mouth and vice versa. Yes! They will attempt to bite into the same piece while the smiley headwaiter holds the fork for them and… flashlights! If you think this is ridiculous? Think again! Ridiculous is when the bride is asked to form an inverted V-shape with both her hands so the groom could slide the wedding ring from the right ring finger to the left ring finger and vice versa. Of course you have to be very dexterous and patient because the ring will get stuck in the middle of the way, sometimes it won’t even budge! Whatever happens, remember to keep that affected smile as every moment is on camera, not to mention the live audience. After that, the buffet opening is announced and a stampede of ravenous guests follows. It’s funny how some people would starve themselves for the whole day and perhaps skip dinner the night before a wedding! The buffet would be laden with all sorts of delicacies and for some unfathomable or inexact reason; you go home with mild to severe symptoms of gastroenteritis.

The buffet opening is considered as a recess. Before the buffet, everybody was beat and famished. Afterwards, they’re rejuvenated and replete. It’s also a chance for quick and imperative retouches—tuck your shirttail back in, pull your saggy pantyhose, trig your out-of-place dress, slick up your disheveled hair, dab on some lipstick and spritz some perfume on. And now, everybody is ready to hit the dance floor afresh.

The classic wedding dais is shrouded in white satin with gilded throne-like chairs or sofa atop, usually festooned with flowers. One or more gigantic flower wreaths are placed behind the throne to serve as a backdrop. At some point, the invitees will successively; in small groups, mount the dais to congratulate the bride and groom then stand behind their throne for a group photo.

In summer 2003, the Egyptian movie ‘sahr el-layali’ or ‘vigil of the nights’ was playing in all movie theatres and it was the most talked about movie and the most debatable because of the sexual content and insinuations it had. I think it left an imprint on lots of people. The movie ends with a wedding where Fayrouz’s song ‘sahr el-layali’ plays and everybody dances on it. And ever since, almost every traditional Egyptian wedding ends with this song, exactly like the movie. Finally, the bride stands far or on the dais with her back to the guests, ready to toss her flower bouquet. All the single women fill the vicinity behind the bride and in a moment, jump simultaneously with their hands in the air. The tossed bouquet reminds me of the sorting hat in Harry Potter. It decides the next bride-to-be; the lucky bride’s successor. Garter toss is seen in less traditional weddings, that’s what I’m told. I’ve never actually seen one! It takes a slightly bolder bride to do the garter toss I guess and a more PDA tolerant audience. Public displays of affection are still frowned upon in Egypt.

So whatever you decide to do at a wedding, you are restricted to two options:

(a) Sit at your table and wallow in boredom. Allow me to elaborate:

The music is too loud and unless you yell at the top of your lungs into somebody’s ear; only then, your voice can be heard. Your ears are ringing and your whole body is quivering with every beat. You keep turning your head back and forth scanning the room for a friendly face or for any sort of entertainment. All those eyes staring back; scrutinizing you from head to toe will make you feel uncomfortable. You try to keep your composure and draw a wry smile on your face because you do not want to be caught sulking at a wedding. As you sit there, you tap your knuckles on the table, fiddle with your keys, check your watch almost every second, and stare pleadingly at your phone hoping for a savior!

Otherwise

(b) Go to the dance floor. Sounds fine right? But you have forgotten about that pair of 9cm high heels down there! You’ll say no problem I can always sit down when I’m tired. Sure you can. Now picture this: You are reveling on the dance floor and surrounded by at least 50 other revelers in an area the size of your bedroom! People are practically banging into you more than dancing and occasionally, stepping on your already aching feet. Still, you’re enjoying yourself and by the third song you notice that the slight ache in your feet is intensifying but, you ignore it because finally, the DJ plays a familiar song to which you can show your moves confidently and sing it out loud. By the sixth song… debilitating throbbing feet… must sit down immediately!!! With every stinging step; from the dance floor to your table which is only a couple of meters away yet seems like a mile afar, you regret standing on those goddamned heels for so long!

It’s hard to stick to one of the above options because practically, you toggle between the two. You sit at your table; you get bored eventually and someone pushes you to join the dance floor. You dance till you can dance no more and hobble back to your table and be grateful when your buttocks touch your seat pad again. You swear the next time you get up; will only be when you are heading to the exit door. And back to twiddling again! The throbbing pain has begun to dwindle. You look at all those girls with their taut calves—like yourself; forced by some sadistic fashion designers to stand on tiptoes, dancing their butts off blithely and envy their womanly dedication! You feel a competitive urge to get up and show your moves one more time as well as your sexy taut calves too. Then recurring throbbing feet, only happening before the end of the second song this time! And the cycle goes on…

At the end of the day, you are just happy to flop down on your bed barefoot. Your lips curl and release an irrepressible sigh as you rub your feet together and conjure up the events of the wedding. You fall asleep meritoriously by the image of your friend’s smile when you showed up on his/her memorable wedding day.

Reminiscing… (Masr Zaman)

I was turning and tossing in bed one night, so I got up to fetch my notebook and leapt back in bed. I plumped up the pillow behind my back and sprawled on the bed with the notebook on my lap. I accessed the internet, checked my email then logged on to Facebook—which has become an epidemic revolutionary phenomenon worldwide. I received a group invitation which I couldn’t ignore, as I usually do. The group called themselves: Egyptians born in the 70s! Just from the name of it & since I was born in the 70s; I accepted their membership invitation & started surfing their page on Facebook. Mainly, the group members shared what they remembered about Egypt in the past either by posting their comments on the wall or by sharing photos & videos. As I was reading their postings, my lips curled—pushing back my cheeks in a bulge and exposing my dimples. My face crinkled in laughter as some posts were hilarious for example:

You think that Captain Maged is the best football player – Sharing a taxi with other people going to different places because cabs were so rare! – You used to walk up to the TV to flip channels or to adjust the volume – You used to guess the names of websites because you’ve never heard of Yahoo – The best gift you ever got from abroad was a gigantic bar of Tublerone – The mob assembling in front of McDonalds in Gamet El-Dowal Street on the opening day squashing each other to get in first – The urban legend of El-Baron Palace being haunted & how daring it was to try to get inside – You had to have a pair of shoes with a light emitting device – Didi song for Cheb Khaled & singing it without actually understanding a word! – You smuggled Mickey Magazine with you in the toilet to evade studying or doing your homework – You couldn’t figure out how to insert a straw into the flat part of the compressible, cone-like, aluminum container of Best Juice – You think that Adham Sabry can liberate Palestine – You achieved a score of 75 to 80% in Higher School Certificate & joined the University of your Dreams!!!

Ah! The good old days… I remember that life was simple and choices were limited. I didn’t have to struggle with fits of shilly-shallying as I am nowadays—picking up a chocolate bar at a supermarket can be a wearisome task! All those heavenly lip-smacking brands…

I also remember that we had 2 channels to watch on local Egyptian Television (Channel 1 & Channel 2). There wasn’t such a thing called cable TV yet. Today, I sit comfortably on the sofa with the clicker in my hand, flipping through the hundreds of channels on cable TV—Here’s a movie that I love & another one on a different channel—Now there’s an episode of one of my many favorite English soap operas just about to start & a sitcom episode on another channel—Aha! A riveting talk show on this channel… Twenty minutes of tentative clicking end up with one final click on the TV switch off button which ensues inevitable boredom!

One of the 80s die-hard customs regarding local TV is the follow up of Arabic series during the Holy month of Ramadan. It’s unofficially and socially mandatory. The indelible absurdity of being in a gathering and finding yourself the only person in the room who doesn’t get what everybody’s talking about and the worst part; when your turn comes to comment on one of the characters, actors or plots in some series and you have absolutely nothing to say! Thanks to cable TV which turned this LOCAL die-hard custom to GLOBAL!

The ubiquity of the radio was inexplicably phenomenal. The broadcasts were very entertaining and informative. Some of us still listen to Eza’et Elshark Elawsat (Middle East broadcast) with its distinguishing music that we all love. Those who were interested in English music had to tune into the European program 95.5 fm to listen to the one & only English speaking DJ back then; Hala Hashish with her characteristic husky voice. Om Kalsoom broadcast was from 5 to 10 pm everyday for all Om Kalsoom lovers. We witnessed the rising of famous music superstars like Amr Diab, Mostafa Amar, Hamid Elsha’ery, Mohamed Fouad, Medhat Saleh & many others. We actually heard them sing for the very first time! We used to buy audio cassette tapes for all of our favorite singers & rent videotapes (movies) at places like Video Rack & Arab Contractors video stores. Of course not everybody owned a VCR which was a sign of extravagance & the same goes for cable TV—a necessity of life nowadays!

Groceries were bought at small grocery stores because there were no supermarkets back then. We bought snacks like Bimbo, Sham’edan, Corona wafer, Bonbon Sima, Sport cola, Chipsy (with salt only) & Rocket. We used to buy imported chocolate from Port Said & they were so expensive. Alfa Market, Sainsbury, Safeway & Shoprite were the pioneer supermarkets to open in Egypt. I remember my first visit to the Alfa Market, I stood for an hour an a half in front of the imported chocolate rack to pick up one chocolate bar! Not to mention that my meager allowance hardly allowed for one bar of chocolate! Absolute torture…

Our generation witnessed the invention of mobile phones which were pathetically expensive & big in size. The mobile lines were also expensive & you had to choose between two brands: Mobinil or Click GSM—now known as Vodafone. Yet it was a significant event, appreciated by millions of Egyptians because we suffered a lot from bad land lines back then. Many people didn’t have telephones installed at home because they were considered unnecessary sustenance. You had to go to the nearest grocery, kiosk, drug store or even visit your wasteful neighbor to make a phone call. You had to wait for so long to have a phone installed at your home. After the invention of mobile phones, payphones were strewn all over the streets. Menatel & Ringo (Niletel) were the first providers of public payphone services in Egypt.

We also witnessed the spreading of home computers (like Sakhr or IBM PC & compatibles) when DOS was the operating system, replaced by Microsoft Windows afterwards. We used the 5¼-inch diskette. By the mid-1990s the 5¼-inch drives had virtually disappeared as the 3½-inch disk became the predominant floppy disk. Then the CD-ROM drive took the place of the floppy drive. And later, the USB drive came into existence & became more common & convenient. Accessing the internet was extremely tiresome because you had to have a password & call the Council of Ministers (Magles El-Wozarah) in Egypt to get a free internet line. We used to borrow passwords from each other. Personally, I considered this filtching not borrowing.

During our childhood, we read books like Mickey, Adham Sabry (Mission impossible man) & Maged magazine where we tried so hard to spot Fodooly who was a hidden character among other characters in the magazine. We were weaned on Tom & Jerry cartoons. I guess the weaning process was incomplete because we still get that irresistible urge to watch them again—using our kids as a pretext, and laugh hysterically as if for the first time!
Cartoon for us also meant Captain Maged, Smurfs, Sesame Street & Woody Wood Pecker. TV during the month of Ramadan was very entertaining. We used to watch Nelly & Sherihan riddles, A Thousand Nights & a Night episodes and some of the interesting Arabic series like Elshahd we eldomoa, Layaly Elhelmia, Ra’fat Elhaggan, and many others. Watching commercial ads was fun and actresses like Nesreena, Yasmine Abdel Aziz & Nermeen Elfikky were still models doing ads. We used to memorize, recite & sing them together especially the comical unforgettable Tarek Nour’s ads in his melodious distictive voice! We still use them as slogans.

I remember some fads of the 80s & 90s like the Fantastickers we used to collect or exchange with friends, and Scoubidou
(Scooby-doo) with which we made key chains, friendship bracelets and other trinkets. Also, the oversized phosphoric t-shirts worn on Lycra tights & ankle sneakers (placing the tongue of the shoe outside!) were other sizzling fads. Not to mention how cool it was to wear a printed t-shirt with your favorite singer or band on it. Most of the teenage boys got the famous Kaboria haircut featured in Ahmed Zaky’s movie Kaboria. Wearing the outfit of Vanilla Ice (Ice Ice Baby) or MC Hammer (trademark baggy parachute pants) who were two of the most hardcore rappers of that era was a hip!. At some stage of your life, you wore one or more of the Punk Fashion stuffs which included wearing bandanas, bleach-stained jeans, ripped jeans, bondage pants, cargo pants, combat boots, fingerless gloves, fishnet stockings, hooded sweatshirts, sleeveless t-shirts, webbed belts (with the big metal buckle), wrist bands, leather jackets, tattoos, dyed hair (often in unnatural colors such as purple, blue, green or orange) & body piercing (ear and/ facial piercing). Footwear was typified by these local brands: Bata, cootchi shoes, arc shoes and amigo eltorky. The lucky ones had a pair of LA Gear, Spalding or Reebok pump and the luckier ones had a pair of luxurious and extravagant brands like Adidas or Nike.

Koki Park represented our one & only amusement park. Later, Sindbad Park opened and it was the most enjoyable outing ever and the biggest brag of guts. School trips were limited to the Zoo & the Pharaonic Village. Cinema Al-Tahrin in Dokki represented the state of the art movie theatre. People scrambled for movie tickets & we used to see lots of celebrities there too. Many Pool (Billiards) clubs like the Roadhouse & Aristocrat opened and only the coolest people went there to play pool & snooker. Some people went to watch only while they smoked and sipped their fizzy drinks from elegant Collins glasses. Something about the smoky dim-lit atmosphere made it very enticing, it reminded me of the sexy Ahmed Ramzy shooting pool in one of his movies. Pool clubs were popular in the past but it wasn’t very common to see women shooting pool. Then, bowling centers with their vibrant ambiance became very popular. It helped people of different ages to mingle & have fun. We didn’t have enormous malls where you can shop, watch a movie or just hangout like we do today. We played games like  Snake & Ladder, Lido, Monopoly, Domino and board games like backgammon & chess as well as card games like Estimation indoors or at clubs. That was before the widespread of coffeehouses which were merely small local cafés (usually open-air) restricted to men only, that served hookah (shisha) & a limited number of hot & cold drinks. Drinks like cappuccino, mocha, latté, frappe, milkshakes, iced tea with flavors & different fruit cocktails were unheard-of. Desserts like cheese cake, chocolate fudge cake, tiramisu, fruit tarts, mousses, cup cakes, muffins, crêpes and many others were first introduced at these coffeehouses. They spread out like a disease all over Cairo and competed with each other by cuisine specialization—unfamiliar to most of us, adding hot dishes to their menus, imposing a minimum charge policy, serving hookah, background music, providing patrons with board & card games and of course the furnishings & decoration of the place. As for fast food restaurants, Wimpy, Moa’men & Mc Burger were the best if not the only fast food restaurants in Egypt back then. That was way before KFC, Pizza hut, McDonalds and Arby’s opened in Egypt. I remember how we used to brag about eating there or even having a coke or milkshake!

Summer vacation meant Alexandria! El-ma’moura and Al-agamy beaches were everybody’s sanctuary. In the 90s the Betash Beach in Alagamy—still intact & preserving its reputation; was the main sanctuary for the middle class & some of the elite society too. I saw many celebrities there, in their bikinis or with their dogs! Then we heard about the North Coastal villages, Marina, Sharm El-Sheikh, Dahab, South Sinai & Hurghada.

Our generation also witnessed the launching of the subway (Metro) in Cairo and the first day it started running on rails. We all hopped the metro to try it out. My heart was pounding fast the first time I walked throughout the subway station and passed through the automated fare gate to get to the platform & wait for the subway. I used to get lost inside the vast subway stations while trying to figure out a suitable exit to the outside world! The stations were clean & air-conditioned and so were the train carriages. Everything was nice and shiny from the floor you were standing on to the walls around you, even the seats.

I really loved the simplicity of Egypt with its ambiance of compassion and mercy. People in the same neighborhood were well acquainted. The weather used to be great before the global warming kicked in. It was warm in the morning & a little bit chilly at night all through the summer. The winter was very cold and rather rainy—all the more reason to wear our elegant coats that we paid a fortune for. In the summer, families spent most of their times outdoors in public garden, on the Nile Corniche and at clubs. The balcony (verandah) was where we spent most of our day as well as where we received our guests—we had relatives, friends and neighbors coming over all the time. People who installed air-conditioners were a minority because of their high prices and their aftereffect on your monthly electricity bill. Besides, the summer was really tolerable, a fan or simply opening a window in the room created a cool breeze. Cars in the streets of Cairo were mostly Fiat (128, 131, 133, etc.) or Nasr. Automobiles were neither air-conditioned nor did they include a power steering system. When my dad bought his first car with half-power steering system, people thought it was amazing and enviable! Parking the car was a tedious action. Thank God for the full-option automatic cars that we have today and the one-for-all remote control!

Nobody can deny the luxuries & comforts of life offered by technology but we have to admit that because of technology; family members became distant & slothful which in turn created a submissive, reliant and an aloof society. Technology is indispensable and addictive. You get so carried away and forget how God favoured humans among other species by blessing them with the ability to contemplate—which can be a curse too when overdone! Welcome to my world…