@ sixes & sevens

Massachusetts license plates

Massachusetts antique auto
Originally uploaded by sixes & sevens

Earlier this week I was chatting with my friend and colleague Dan about my 1956 license plate photo documentation project. He made a bid for my doing Massachusetts next, a suggestion I was glad to take up: I have no particular order in mind for adding states to the collection. Besides, unlike some states Massachusetts actually had interesting plates in 1956.

The decision was made easier when Dan had to dash up to the Cape to be with his dad during emergency surgery and recovery. I've never met his dad; and this peculiar little project of mine is insignificant compared to family and health. But I'm happy to dedicate this set of plate photos to Daniel Senior, his complete recovery, and to a Christmas surrounded, rightly so, by his family.

Cairo finale: Roadside Egypt

'YOW!'

I woke up clutching my foot and rolodexing my brain to figure out where I was and what just happened. Before long I settled on: Cairo, in bed, and chomped on by Zadeh in the middle of the night.  By then she had vanished into the darkness and retribution seemed pointless. (It would only have been to grab her by the scruff and march her to her 'bucket'.) There's little consolation in knowing you've 'arrived' in the cat's estimation.

DINNER LAST NIGHT with Hatsuki and her beau Armando turned out quite pleasant. (Sorry, no photos.) The restaurant, Estoril, was not the one we thought and feared it would be. The fare was Egypto-Lebanese, which is to say Cockeyed Continental. Its local claim to fame is that it was where some scenes from "The Yacoubian Building" were filmed. Mind you, I haven't seen it myself so I couldn't say, but we do have the DVD (in PAL, but we'll figure that out eventually). Hatsuki is a Ph.D. candidate at Oxford working on a dissertation about the 'fan club' surrounding a now deceased charismatic Sufi sheikh from Cairo. Kiki and she met in a colloquial Egyptian language class last year and hit it off.

After dinner we picked up Kiki's favorite rice pudding-to-go and wandered to a pedestrian passage where we sat and had tea. Downtown Cairo was jumping in the cooler evening hours, a more laid back urban liveliness I hadn't experienced here until just then (and didn't know enough to realize I was missing it). There was a general hubbub, the sound of traffic and horns in the background, and the rolling of dice and the slapping of backgammon tiles more nearby.

AFTER A MILD HISSY FIT yesterday when I expressed disappointment at not doing much that was fun so far on this trip, we came up with the idea to visit the October War Panorama out in Heliopolis. You see it every trip you take to or from the airport: This building that looks like a hat box surrounded by planes, tanks and artillery. We had each harbored a desire to visit it but somehow had never mentioned it to the other.

Those Zionist Imperialist history buffs among you might know the 1973 October War as the Yom Kippur War. On the other hand, if everything you knew was based on a visit to the Panorama, as our guidebook points out, "you might almost think the Egyptians had actually won the October War."

"During President Mohamed Hosni Mubarak's visit to the Democratic People's Republic of Korea [North Korea to you and me] in 1983," the back of our ticket tells us, "he agreed with the Korean President Kim Il Sung that Korean technicians would help construct a monument to honor the great October Victory, the heroic deeds of the Egyptian people and their brave sons of the Armed Forces."

Well, you can certainly see the Subtle Hand of the Great Leader and Eternal President in the style of presentation here. And a tour of the Egyptian armaments on the museum grounds reminds you that once upon a time it was the Russians supplying Egypt with all their hardware. The MiGs are really quite fascinating to behold. Across the center drive are a number of American- and British-made tanks captured by the Egyptians during the early hours of the war.

Once inside the rotunda boasts bas-relief murals illustrating great historical battles in Egypt, such as the battle to unite Upper and Lower Egypt. A large mosaic depicts the generals planning the assault on the Bar-Lev Line. The flags of all the branches of the armed forces and various cavalry battalions ring the circular hall. After a little while we were ushered into a side hall with theater seating facing a wide pale blue curtain. Audio headsets were fetched and tested for the English translation. The lights went down, the curtains parted, and we were treated to a black-light diorama of ... well, I couldn't exactly say what it was. Miniature radar screens whirled wobbly, tiny fighter planes periodically crossed the sky on their not-so-invisible wires, lights illuminated parts of the terrain, rockets rose en masse to the curtained rafters or descended to the ground ... all accompanied by martial music and stentorian narration. The English version was quite poetic, considering it described a military campaign.

That presentation over, we were led to the central core and up the curving staircase to the piece de resistance: A 360-degree near life-sized panorama of the battle scene with trompe l'oeil murals. We sat on an enormous turntable and slowly revolved around the tableaux. Once again the battle was rolled out for us (once again over our headsets). [For a video clip of the presentation -- uploaded sideways, unfortunately -- click here.] I have to admit that the mural painting was spectacular, in some cases surprisingly realistic. The foreground was strewn with the detritus of war -- spent shells (they looked a little like cigarette butts at first glance), the stray boot, a three-quarter sized tank in ruins. Any corpses were painted ones, on the backdrop. By now we probably could have passed a test on the events of the war. But we still had one more room to go.

In the last room another diorama, this one no longer used, was the floor for a projection screen on which was played newsreel footage and 'Hollywood' re-enactments of the first glorious days of the October War. Several scenes ran twice, and I noticed one ran three times, all to support more stirring accounts of the battle. I could see in the footage the source material for some of the panorama depictions.

But this was about as much as we truly needed to see, so after leaving the museum grounds we caught a cab to the City Stars Mall to grab a bite to eat and maybe do a little stray shopping.

Cairo finale: out with the old and in with the oud

My brain may finally have caught up with my body yesterday, but it didn't guarantee a good night's sleep. No, it wasn't the muezzin call at whatever god awful hour that takes place: that I slept through. No, it wasn't the cat throwing up (that was the first night). It was the extra hard mattress that makes me sore after only about six hours on it. After what must have been ninety restive minutes of tossing and turning, I eventually decamped to the living room sofa, where I could luxuriate in its overstuffed cushiness. Dawn (or at least our scheduled hour of rising) came too soon today.

Dinner at Taboula was a nice way to unwind. Next time maybe I'll order the 'lamb cubes' that Kiki got. We sat next to a table of AUC students -- juniors? seniors? -- and I was swiftly reminded of my college days. Two women and three men made up the group, most of them sucking on their shishas -- that last feature, I hasten to point out, wasn't part of my college days. No, it was the posturing of the male of the species before the females of same. They must have been Arabic Studies or PoliSci students, judging from their fascination with Middle Eastern geopolitics. One gassy male in particular (he wore his NY baseball cap throughout the evening) was particularly sure of himself, delivering pearls about this Arab state and that one, using the word 'hegemon' three times in one very long sentence (if you don't stop with a period, you don't risk being interrupted).

For a while the women were game, challenging the most flagrant oversimplifications. One was evidently Iranian-American, which not gave her special credibility but also made her the go-to person to field unanswerable questions about the future direction of Iran. Before long the women tired of the men's conversation and spoke mostly to each other. The men continued to spread their feathers before a more appreciative audience, themselves. I leaned over to Kiki and whispered what frightened me most was that these guys were probably going to be making U.S. foreign policy in twenty years or so.

Like clockwork the packers arrived at eight-thirty this morning and took away the boxes they had packed a few days before. It barely interrupted our breakfast. Now we simply have to hope that it's as smooth on the other end of the shipment, although we have been assured and reassured of this. But that's only one of the day's tasks. We schlepped the last remaining books signed out to Kiki back to the Library, only to learn that there's one stray not accounted for; We're hoping it didn't get packed in the shipment. And then the postponed shopping trip to Zamalek for groceries; home for lunch; and then out to 'Attaba Square to buy that oud.

I've got to hand it to Kiki: she doesn't let the fact that she hasn't a clue how to play an oud stop her from going out and buying one. It's what she wants, and that's that. After three phone calls to Lufthansa talking to as many people there, she finally got from them an admission that she could take the oud on board with her, no problem. The web site had suggested special treatment for musical instruments. It turned out that meant buying a seat just for the instrument. Then they assured her it was too big to go in the cabin, it would have to be checked. And then that it most likely would be too large for 'excess baggage'. It was looking more and more like it would have to be added to the AUC shipment.

But buoyed by this good news, we went back to the store with the instrument Kiki liked best and began the purchase. By great good luck we were joined in the store by a delightful South African on a quest for strings for his twelve-string guitar. It was his third country on this search, and he figured if he couldn't find them in Cairo he was sunk. (Of course, the other two were Kenya and Morocco.) We struck up a conversation with him -- after all, he spoke English and knew far more about stringed instruments than we did. He found his strings, we got a lesson in stringing the oud, and after we all left the store we decided to go have a coffee together and get acquainted.

Karabo it turns out works for the SABC (South African Broadcasting Company) as an analyst and advanced researcher for national elections. He's based out of Kenya but working out of Cote d'Ivoire mostly, with responsibility for covering the continent (outside of RSA, presumably). This was his holiday and the first time to Cairo. Needless to say, he's otherwise widely traveled, and that promised lots of stories and observations. For having been in Cairo only a few days he'd picked up quickly on a lot of the contradictions of Egypt, social and economic. In some respects I think this must have felt like 'civilization' to him, although he assured me that the 'controlled chaos' of street life in Cairo was the same across the continent. He has a perfectly delightful laugh, which he delivers freely and frequently: quite infectious. We've invited him for the farewell party next week and we hope he can join us.

Tonight it's another dinner out (lah-dee-dah), this time with Kiki's colleague Hatsuki at a restaurant that I'm assured has great food even if the decor is over the top. (Of course, I don't know the name, but you can expect a report in the next post.)

Cairo finale: the packers

Well, we had a wonderful time at Jonelle's for dinner last night ... such a good time that we've been feeling wretched all day. Too much Scheherazade, the Egyptian white wine, for our own good. We ate as well as we drank, I hasten to add, and dinner was scrumptious. You'd have thought we were all conversation starved the way we talked about nearly everything under the sun, from Pro-Choice politics in the States to the lures and pitfalls of living overseas.

It made for a fitful night for us both. Kiki had to head over to campus to give a final exam at 9 a.m. My chore was hosting the unctuous Mr. N* from the Housing Office. It was described to me as an 'inventory': an accounting of all the AUC furniture and furnishings. But far from an inventory, we simply took a spin around the apartment, I signed a document indicating when we would be vacating, and after fifteen minutes he was out the door.

Since the maid was due at eleven, I couldn't exactly loll around the apartment: she usually does her handiwork alone. So I stumped off to campus and holed up in the library. As I write this (at 9:30 at night) it's 91 degrees out. It was supposedly 96 degrees today, and it's expected to be 101 tomorrow. That said, any plans I might have had of gallivanting around Cairo came to a crashing (and sweaty) halt. Between the hangover, lack of sleep, and jet lag, I'm not in the best shape for challenging temperatures. It also strikes me that as I get older I am less tolerant of extreme heat. So hanging out in the library trying to get interested in The Forsyte Saga was about the right speed.

Kiki and I decided to take a cab to Zamalek for lunch at Mezza Luna, to which she had been introduced only last week. She had a heaping salad of greens and shaved Parmesan cheese. That was the way to go. I opted for Pasta Rosso (okay, the name caught my attention), which would have been fine if they had managed to cook the pasta even as much as al dente.

No rest for the wicked: Kiki had ordered bespoke sandals from a shoe salon in Downtown Cairo. Her first fitting last week was something of a struggle between Egyptian 'good enuf' (the shoemaker) and a comfortable fit. This second fitting -- the shoemaker adjusted the straps to the sole with masking tape -- was no less a struggle, but by the end it looked as if a really handsome pair of sandals was in the offing.

By now our little tails were dragging, so after picking up some things at her office, Kiki and I headed home (on foot, naturally) and crashed until the packers arrived at five. This was another anxiety-producing necessity, but we were proved spectacularly wrong. A crew of two young men, a middle-aged man and a short and indomitable henna-haired granny showed up practically on time with all their supplies. In forty-five minutes they had assembled the boxes (quite elaborate ones at that), bubble wrapped the fragibles, and packed 110 kilos worth of rugs, clothing, books and supplies into four neat boxes: Very impressive! Tomorrow morning at 8:30 they show up to load the boxes and send them to an AUC storeroom. If all goes well the boxes should arrive shortly after we do late next week or early the next week. Amazing.

So not much chance for sightseeing (trust me, it'll be way too hot for that tomorrow) yet. But we may be reduced to that if everything else about wrapping up the Cairo adventure goes as smoothly as today.

By A Waterfall ... ♫

In a strange instance of convergence, two sets of friends and I all managed to find our ways to spectacular waterfalls this last year:

Cindy and Michael at Victoria Falls, 2006

Erika and Todd at Gullfoss, October 2006 (Todd is the shadow in the foreground)

 

me at Iguazú Falls, October 2006