The New Egypt

         
  If it came as a shock to family and friends that I decided to go to Cairo last week, it is because I shocked myself with my last-minute decision to visit Egypt. Here is what happened. I was in London, visiting Harriet and working on a story, when I was asked to do a radio interview with Peter Greenberg, a travel journalist, about Egypt and tourism.  Mubarak had just stepped down the day before.

        Two minutes into the interview, Greenberg said to me, “Don’t you just want to tell your readers to go to Cairo right now and support the country?”  I answered, in my best good-girl voice, “I would, but there is currently a State Department advisory warning against all non-essential travel to Egypt.” Greenberg then said, without missing a beat, “I think the best time to visit a place is when it has a State Department travel advisory.”  Ten minutes after we finished the interview, I was looking up flights to Cairo.

        It goes without saying that Daniel and I were relieved to not be in Cairo with the children during the revolution, but disappointed as journalists to have missed such a big story by mere months. I suppose that is why he and the kids, and even my parents, encouraged me to go to Egypt, knowing I would be able to both catch up with our dear friends there and try to help the struggling tourism industry by writing an article. 

        In many ways, I flew in at the perfect time. Other than one close friend, who had to leave for Libya the day I arrived, I saw nearly all our best friends, most of whom had barely seen each other during the uprising because of the curfews enforced, the work that had to be done, and forced evacuations.  As a result, I ended up hearing everyone’s “revolution” stories, on the first occasion many had had to share them. Some were terrifying (hearing gunfire outside their windows, seeing looters with AK 47’s breaking into houses next door, being evacuated without pets), while others were hilarious (one suburban friend was evacuated with a huge military convey to a hotel in downtown Cairo only to sneak back home the next day for the bathing suit she forgot.) The one thing, I had not realized is when the U.S. Embassy evacuates its staff and families, they cannot return for thirty days—a big disruption, particularly for those with school-aged children.

          
    Cairo itself seemed wonderfully different. There is this new patriotism and freedom that one can actually feel on the streets.  Not only do you hear minor protests all over the city (an amazing sound as no one was allowed to gather before without fear of arrest), but you also see everyone cleaning up streets. I walked by girls with buckets washing off graffiti and dirty sidewalks, boys painting buildings, bridges and curbs, and people sweeping everywhere.  I had never seen the place looking so clean. Then, as I wrote in my article, there is this new gathering spot of Tahrir Square, which feels like a recreation park now, with people hanging on the grassy sides of the traffic circle selling revolutionary souvenirs, balloons and food, sharing gossip and news. There are even people painting black, red and white stripes (the colors of the Egyptian flag) on people’s faces, as well as on the trunks of bordering trees. And though the military are everywhere, they are smiling at those who pass by, posing for pictures in front of their tanks, and looking stunning in their red wool berets.

        Sadly though, there is also an intense anxiety that was equally palpable everywhere. Ahab, our 24-year old former driver and a recent protestor--like so many people I spoke to of all ages--was extremely optimistic one minute, and then severely depressed the next. There was hardly one conversation I had with those truly invested in the country that did not begin with their hopes and dreams for a democratic, free Egypt, and end with their head in their hands asking, “What is going to become of our country?”

        There is a real fear that the military might not allow a transition to democracy, or that the young will become so impatient they will strike and protest to the point that it paralyzes the country and destroys them economically before they can even hold fair elections. Already the latter has happened. Last Friday, in what has become a regular Friday night demonstration in Tahrir, the police became briefly violent, wanting the protestors to leave at midnight so as not to disrupt life the next day. The protestors, however, vowed to return, not giving up on their demands that the military embrace reform. 

    What is apparent is the pent up anger of the masses is growing as they learn exactly how much Mubarak and his regime stole from them, to say nothing of the people they imprisoned, tortured and killed. What follows this anger is a call for instant action—higher salaries, a voice in government, better working and living conditions, a chance to vote, and even the execution of former leaders. They do not seem to understand that these things take time, that democracy is a process that needs patience. Understandably, the business community is the most worried that if everyone does not calm down the wrong type of government will end up in place simply because no one was willing to wait for the right type, and the country could not function in the meantime.

        So it was a very enlightening and emotional trip. I left feeling a desperate desire to help them rebuild Egypt, but a grave realization that they need, and want, to do this for themselves.  I did not, however, see one anti-Israel or anti- American sign, or feel unsafe as one of the few westerners walking around Cairo. On the contrary, I felt safer there now than I ever did when we lived there, knowing I was not being watched and could write whatever I wanted without fear of reprisals. 

 Being at the pyramids, surrounded not by tour buses of westerners (I counted only six foreigners), but by hundreds of Egyptian families riding on the backs of camels and horses, sunbathing and climbing on the sides of the monuments,  was a heartwarming sight. Despite their need for visitors to return, for the moment, the Egyptians have their country all to themselves, a necessary respite, as they both celebrate their historic victory and contemplate their future.     

Comments

[Raymond Stock]

If you don't know Arabic, you can't say for sure what all the signs might say. But otherwise it sounds right--great piece and congratulations, Jen!--Raymond

[Paul]

I want to visit too! Great article, what a fascinating time to be in Egypt.

[Meg Trefny]

I really enjoyed reading this one and am so very glad you were able to go. Meg

[Nana]

Great, Jenny !

[Julie Tamarkin]

I am thrilled that you were able to go to Egypt and reconnect with the place and your friends there. And, of course, that your travels were enlightening, inspiring and safe. :)

[Bob Nusbaum, Jr.]

A thrill to read your usual insightful reports at such an exciting time.