So we are in Cairo for a week at the moment, doing lots of touristy things and generally having a bit of a break from work. We have seen the pyramids, mosques aplenty etc, but perhaps the most effecting experience was what we did today on our day off. A few of us took a cab to the city of the dead. It is an ancient cemetery that has become a city in and of itself, a part of cairo, yet very separate. The whole area is surrounded by high walls, and the people live among the graves, using the mosaleums as houses and the graves as tables. Cairo has a huge housing problem, one that is only growing as the population of 17 million grows, about a million of whom live in the city of the dead, called in arabic muqabara, meaning simply the cemetery. These are the poorest who have been pushed out even of cairo's other slums. That said, we felt very safe throughout our meandering walk. IT was even a welcome break from the constant and overpowering hassling from vendors and locals marketing just about everything that you find in the touristy sections of Cairo like Khan alkhalil. We were the only westerners around, and while the was a couple times when children followed us asking for money quite vociferously, they were often shooed away by the adults, who as often as not had a smile and a sabah alkhaier (good morning) (and unlike the rest of Cairo, not followed by some wily marketing scheme.) As we walked out, a driver pulled over and gave us a brief but heartfelt rant about how the rest of Cairenes and he governement don't know or care about this place, and he described it as a habs. We thought he was saying bread at first (hobz) and were confused, but realized later that habs meant prison.

I just got home from going to a mosque for evening prayer. We went with a friend of one of our Arabic teachers, as well as one of the home stay brothers of two of the guys from our group. We entered the mosque, having removed our shoes, and went downstairs to perform the ablution (cleaning ritual) that is required before going to pray, which basically consists of washing hands, face, arms, ears and feet three times each. Then we went back upstairs and sat in the back of the prayer room. It was quite beautiful, with high domed ceiling encircled with the 99 names of God and beneath that were elaborate, calligraphic verses of the Qur’an. Everyone prays towards the Mihrab, the ornate niche on the southern wall that faces Mecca, though of course we simply watched. The Imam is apparently a very good one, and his recitations were beautiful and full of emotion. At one point he broke down very briefly before continuing. After prayer we stayed a while and discussed the process and meanings of prayer with our two Muslim friends who brought us there, as well as chatting with the friendly, curious, and of course eminently hospitable Jordanians who came over to welcome the American visitors to their mosque (we don’t blend in very well.) This mirrors just about all of my experience with Jordanians, who, while they have deep, sincere beliefs and arguments, particularly with regards to american and Israeli government policies, are very eager to discuss the issues with us. And the idea that those policies, which have without a doubt caused hardship for the Jordanian people (60% of whom are Palestinian) who used to get 75% of their oil for free from Saddam should be an obstacle for friendship on an individual level is extremely rare, even towards the members of our group who are also US Marines.

So as per requested, here is a rough description of what most days are like for me. The first three hours of school from 9 to 12 are Arabic class, with the first hour and a half in Aamiya (colloquial) Arabic, and the second half in Fusha (pronounced Fus-ha) which is the formal written Arabic used in books, academia, and media. Needless to say, I am usually ready to crash at the end, given the amount and intensity of concentration needed to keep up and stay on top of what is going on. After that there is the lunch break of an hour and a half, followed by a lecture, often from a prominent academic, politician, or activist, depending on what the focus of the week is. For example, the week before last was focused on women in Jordan, and on Tuesday (I think) we had a lecturer who is a female member of parliament in the Islamic Action Front party. She is a member of the Shura council of the IAF, which is the political wing of the Muslim Brotherhood. Despite the fact that her views contrasted sharply with many of ours, she was one of the most charismatic and interesting speakers we have had. After lecture, there is usually a period of hanging out at SIT, chatting, and mostly making use of the internet there. While home here is certainly nice, I usually like to go somewhere after class, such as downtown or various other sights, after which I head home and do some homework. Right now, and for a few more days, it is Ramadan here, meaning that most people go all day without consuming anything, even water. Iftar, meaning to break fast, is the main event of the day, and takes place around 6:30, as soon as the sun sets. The meals are always delicious, and are usually some combination of rice and chicken, though the first two days of this week was homemade french bread Pizza. Perrhaps the most interesting aspect is just before sunset. We all load up our plates, pour drinks, then sit looking at it, longing for it, until the muezzin’s calls of Allahu Akbar (God is Great) ring out from the mosques (or in our family’s case, the TV set). At that moment, virtually everyone across the entire city digs in simultaneously with the relish of a people who haven’t eaten since the morning meal of Suhour, which happened at 430 am or so. In my family, Iftar is followed by some Arabic coffee and relaxed tv watching. Often, we take Iftar at the Aunts house, in which case we spend the time afterwards sitting around playing cards, smoking argileh, trading English and Arabic words, and talking about almost anything. Its also an excellent time to do homework, since the whole extended family delights in pitching in and correcting whatever I am writing, then arguing with each other over semantics of some translation or piece of formal Arabic grammar. After that, it’s back home to finish any work, and perhaps another cup of Arabic coffee and a bit of TV, usually either an American sitcom or Al Jazeera before bed.

On saturday we went to the hot springs, known as Hamamat Ma'in. While frolicking in the hot, mineral heavy water was fun enough, the resort wasn't as impressive. Luckily we decided to stop at Mount Nebo on the way home. This is th place where according to the Bible God showed Moses the promised land, and also told him he couldn't cross into it. The view is spectacular, though the Haze diminished it slightly. The above picture is actually from google images, since to my chagrin I used up a lot of battery taking videos of the view from mount Nebo, and when i wanted to take a couple pictures, they finally ran out. I do have some pictures from the trip, but its class time now, so I'll upload them later.

So there have been a few new developments recently. For example, my roommate broke his foot on thursday night, resulting in my first exposure to the Jordanian healthcare system. I was very positively impressed. We got to the ER, and he was immediately treated and casted up, and while apparently by Jordanian standards it was expensive(we intenitnally took him to the one of the best hospitals in Amman, and therefore the middle east) , it seemed relatively cheap to us. We would have gotten out of there even earlier if another one of our friends hadn't decided he wanted to come and chased after us by running througha field and twisted his ankle. So when he did find us at the hospital, he had a potrusion the size of a small apple on his ankle, and had to get x rayed as well.