Egypt: Cairo to Lebanon: Beirut

Dear All

I'm slowing down in these times post one-year anniversary and taking it slow to my next new home. I spent longer in Cairo then expected and did less than was available. I have made my way over the Mediterranean and into the heart of a country viewed as evil by most of the world but has surprised me with its beauty, history and kindness.

My last few days in Cairo were whittled away in sweet nothingness doing my best to scrounge the remains of a city I had thoroughly wandered. With too much time on hands, I found my way to the listed best mosques in my LP – Quaitbey and Ibn Tulun. Quaitbey was somewhat disappointing as it is more a skeleton of a mosque than a real mosque itself. I hoped Ibn Tulun would be different.

Ibn Tulun mosque has a giant blurb in most guidebooks. It is a must-see place in a Cairo outing known primarily for its Iraqi architecture but as you walk in you see nothing different than before – dusty square centre, cube shaped thing in the middle, high inescapable walls and some launch-the-bad-Muslims-off turrets on the sides. All in all, it was a five minute walk through history. It was enough time and the only saving grace was the fact that it was free. I walked to the Citadel about a kilometer away.

The Citadel is a giant limestone monstrosity southeast of the city centre which was originally used at the base of many rulers for hundreds of years. You can see it for miles around and has strength and power glowing from its walls. I saw it beaming down on me for the entire walk from Ibn Tulun and actually felt the fear of previous Arab kings. It has all the features of a giant mosque with rocket ship turrets with sharp pointy tips. Unfortunately, I left the Citadel to the last day and with a grateful thanks to the inefficiency of the condensed Middle East LP, I managed to miss the closing times by an hour and a half. I waited at a nearby tea shop recreating in my favorite way of caffinateing and cabondioxing my blood until the Sufi dancing show at the Citadel opened.

Sufi dancing is form of meditation involving spinning to hypnotic Arabic music eventually leading the dancer into a trance state. I had heard many people rave about this show and there is no doubt that this is the best reason to come to Egypt. The show started slowly with ten musicians coming out with hand symbols, squeaky violin style instruments and Egyptian bongos. The musicians were so tight and the show was choreographed magnificently. They wore what looked like German oompha strap jacket in various colors of green, red and gold over a long flowing dress of one solid color in white or green. I laughed at the fact that these pseudo-Germans were wearing women's clothes but to each their own. After the first act involving a few minutes of minor spinning – like the way ice skaters do it – a new set of instruments came out, a vocalist and a man with a multilayered thick carpet dress in a King Cobra pattern. As the hypnotic music started, the snake started to wrap itself over and over the waist of the Sufi dancer, sweat started to pour down his face and I lost myself in daydream, fantasy and mysticism. The musicians started to incorporated themselves into the dance and spun around the central Sufi spinner then, from nowhere, he lifted a layer off his dress and spun the full circular carpet using the hole from his belt as the handle to generate spin like the classic scene where an Italian pizza chef flattens his pizza dough by whirling it in the air but with a much larger and heaver piece of material. His eyes rolled back and his posture shifted to hand the first onion peel of his skirt to a stagehand and again back into his trance. Then, the next layer pulls off and he is left with his green longhy. He spins the circular carpet not just over his head but perpendicular to the floor. He stops and the crowd roars in an assault of applause.

The last hockey game I went to was to see Wayne Gretzsky and the NY Rangers play against the Ottawa Senators – my home team. I think it was every Canadian's obligation (who was born anytime before 1980) to see The Great One play at least once in their lives. I did it in his last season but I actually went to see if the puck would hit the ref. My wish came true and half way through the first period a whistle was blown, a stretcher was brought on the ice and a smile smeared on my face. The tooting zebra was pulled off with a broken skull. I went to see the Sufi dancers to see if the spinner would puke or fall off the stage during the show. Unfortunately, he didn't. These guys do this three times a week and are professionals.

The remainder of the show repeated the same pattern as the original dancer but this time there were three men in carpet dresses all smiling, trancing and spinning to sharp coordinated Arabic music. It was an amazing show and the best reason to come to Egypt.

The next morning I was off to Lebanon. I had a moment of hesitation at 5:30am getting ready to catch a taxi to airport. This was unknown territory. This was a place that once was ravaged by civil war, filled the newspapers with protests and has been the place of warnings from both friends and family. I left Mina behind as good company and a good friend. I was leaving behind the security and comfort of a routine few days in Cairo eating at my favorite koshary place and drinking tea as per usual. I was entering a place I only knew about from the television news reports of my youth – a frightening thought – the description in my guidebook and the reassurances of people who have recently been there. I have come to the Arab world to break down the misconceptions generated from growing up in a family with connections to the never-ending war between two religions. I have come to the Arab world to see if the average Joe on the street is the gun-totting maniac ready to kill anyone who even smells of the enemy or if people are just people, going about their everyday lives and live in peace. What I have come to has really surprise me.

From the airport, I have the help of the taxi drivers, who all across the world are not know to be the easiest people to get directions from, to show me to the cheap public minibuses. I got off the bus and immediately a car pulls up. He insists to help me with my way but in the same way I always have, I refuse his generosity. He tells me that he is not asking for money but just being helpful as the Lebanese are. I apologized and tell him I just came from Asia where nothing comes for free. He laughs, understands, helps me with my way and drives off. I realize this place isn't skewed by tourism yet. I get local prices for everything. The transport that drove me to my hotel was fair and the people everywhere are wonderfully helpful. I got to my dorm and get handed a free cola.

After mistakenly walking onto the highway, I manage to find the hotel and prepare myself for my day. I shower in hot water, eat at the local sandwich place and walk to the nearby downtown.

You would never think that this country was once torn by civil war by looking at the downtown centre. It is known as the "Paris of the Middle East" and there is no question about the amazing effort and restoration put into rehabilitating this previous battle zone. The Place de L'Etoile, a clock tower, is the centre piece of a European style pedestrian sector filled with upscale coffeehouses and restaurants. In between the high end clothing stores are ancient ruins that seem more like accessories than attractions to the city core. None of them have a cover to see them and they are placed brilliantly between the Italian style open air eateries. I was astonished at the city I was expecting to be more a run down version of Cairo than the elegance that it presented me. Though the city core was incredible, I quickly became distracted by a more gorgeous spirit – the women.

Lebanese women are some of the most seductive and stylish women I have seen anywhere. I sat on the curb to the Place de L'Etoile, watching the nouveau ultrariche drink coffee I couldn't afford to ridiculously attractive women with long flowing wavy black hair, crystal green eyes and a shape that could shatter an hourglass. They walk with confidence and high stello heels. Their soft features left my tongue flapped open through my legs and between my feet. They are known as the "Pearls of the Middle East" and, from all the rumors I heard across Egypt, I now know it to be true. Interestingly enough, none of the women I saw wore a headscarf. I expected to see the full black gown with eye slits here but in fact these women open up to their sexuality without fear and in spaghetti straps. Unfortunately, and true to rumor again, they don't talk to foreigners and I have yet to figure out why. Thai girls think we're all that so why don't the Lebanese?

My main reason for coming to Lebanon wasn't for the women as I was actually expecting more overt religious chastity. I came to the Lebanon to satisfy the other craving – my love for food. I read that Lebanon has some of the best food in the Middle East but this isn't so. I was expecting fabulous street food and sumptuous low end eateries like the ones I had in Egypt but the reality is very different. Food, like everything here, is expensive and Lebanon is not the place to come if you are a backpacking cockroach like me. There is no street food and the low end stuff costs minimum of 1USD for a baguette filled with cheese. Not the culinary heaven I was coming for. So far, I have eaten either a very expensive half chicken meal with pita (thin like I remember back in Canada) with pickles, tomatoes and a labane or yoghurt and garlic sauce, or a variety of sandwiches cooked hot and squished flat. I don't expect to be eating great anytime soon.

This city has a lot of bling bling. New BMWs and Porches drive recklessly ignoring street lights and driving out of turn through intersections. Armani is every second person's best friend while fancy new penthouses stare over Beirut, Byblos and incredibly visible Tripoli on the other side of the country. This is not true for the majority of the population just what I have noticed now. Leaving the city for Baalbek I saw bullet holed buildings set next to bombed apartments that house the poor. I am impressed with Beirut but there is still a serious and obvious poverty issue here but this I only noticed for the few minutes of consciousness from the back seat of a minivan to the city that hold one of the largest Roman sites in the Middle East.

Baalbek is a small town set in the far east of the city about 3 hours away. I left at 8am and once past the suburbs of Beirut, I managed to fall asleep from boredom of an uninteresting landscape. I arrived at the city at 11am and saw the site.

The first thing that impressed me was the fact that there was no foreigner price. Everyone pays too much – 12000 Lebanese Pounds or around 8USD. The site is undeniably Roman, large and ancient. It was a short walk through the rubble and giant pillars that you instantly recognize as Ancient Rome. I did my best to stay as long as I could at the site but after an hour I was well out of ground to cover and I began regretting booking a room at a local hotel. By two in the afternoon, I was sufficiently bored and spent the rest of my time wandering the streets, drinking some very thick very strong Lebanese coffee, reading in my room, not falling asleep until 3am. Lebanese coffee is full on.

I came back to my hotel in Beirut by eleven the next morning without any problems. The great thing about Lebanon is not only is the transportation between cities really easy to use but everything is a day trip from Beirut. This is good because this country is so expensive that staying at some of these places would burn my budget for a whole week.

On a side note, for those thinking that French is a superficial language here have got it wrong. I have managed to use my passable French everywhere from minibus drivers to restaurant staff to run-ins on the street. If they don't speak English, they speak French and many signs, including the street labels, are in French.

After photographing a war cemetery for my friend Ralph, checking out the American University in Beirut (AUB) and working on healing a really bad sty that formed on my right eyelid, I haven't done much in Beirut as there isn’t much to do. I'm passing on the National Museum, a collection of more old stuff, and the Sursock, the contemporary art museum has been closed for years so now I simply wander the streets and plan my new move. Though I am stiff and tired from not sleeping last night, I will check out Beirut's legendary nightlife tonight then head to Sidon tomorrow. Sunday is a day off for all transport so I will take a break from travel and head to Byblos on Monday then Tripoli, my next new hub, on Tuesday pending any word from Ana who still hasn’t been able to co-ordinate meeting me. For those following me, I will head to Allepo in Syria and then down Syria to Jordan instead of going to Turkey as I recently discovered that there is no ferry from Cyprus to The Land. Turkey will have to wait for another time.

Be well,



Oren Jalon
World Traveller

Egypt: Alexandria to Cairo

Dear All

Alexandria is one of human civilizations greatest historical cities and yet one of the most disappointing one as well. This city holds two of the greatest wonders of the world - the Great Library and the Lighthouse of Pharos - but now both have been replaced by either a sterile replica or a white Lego fort. This city hold little for the typical tourist on any agenda. Good thing I have none.

Immediately out of the train from Cairo I noticed the European like qualities that makes Alexandria so quaint and why the locals see this as their popular holiday spot. This is a place where the architecture of Italy coincides with old English style horse and buggies. There is a sea side view as the Mediterranean Sea is engulfed by the downtown cove with, at one end, a bright white fort and, at the other, the new Great Library with it's plastic, glass and angular design and bubble planetarium. The corniche, the promenade at the waterfront, is always full of people jostling past both human and motor traffic. It passes fabricated Greek mini-amphitheatres, towering mosques, statues dedicated to mystery men and a reflecting pond before reaching a suburb of decaying and compacted city residences. I managed to be absorbed by the downtown core. My days, in contrast of the backpacker hole of Dahab, has been delightfully tourist-free and I have spentt my time either in enjoyable solitude or in the company of locals.
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I got intercepted on the way to the hotel. A tout managed to catch me and bring me to his hotel. When I asked to go see another hotel he gladly brought me over and showed me the places and the cost. For some reason, the hotels here charge an unbelievable amount for this country so when I was given a place for 17 EP (the next cheapest was 30 EP or 5USD) I gladly accepted. I knew I would be here for a few days. This is a lull in the seasons. The hot month of August is when the Egyptians come here and October is when the foreigners come so now is the in between time. This means that the majority of those on the street are locals and I have spent hours without seeing a western face. I knew I would be here for a while and so I needed to make the best of my time. The first day was easy. I arrived around noon and checked in then headed straight to the Great Library.

History would have it that when ships came into this city they had to give in all their books to be copied for the Library at Alexandria. Now, for the sake of tourism, the government has decided to recreate this with a little twist. Now, instead of copying books from foreign sea goers, the information can be stolen directly off the Internet from one of several hundred computers scattered all over the place. The ceiling is angled and made of plastic and glass with well placed blue and green light bars between the clear windows. The half empty bookshelves are luminated by lights integrated into the sides. There is an eerie silence as Muslim study as I suspect the glass is soundproof preventing the Call to Prayer from reaching the library main room. I had to blag my way into the 8-14 year old room which was occupied by children who where unaccompanied by adults. I told them I was 12 and doubting me with my moustache I told them I was interested in what Egyptian children read about. I entered a room of backbreaking self-education. The children watched videos, interneted and generally studied in various languages but mostly English. I found a set of encyclopedias that I had when I was a child (though mine was a much older version) and accidentally grabbed the "O" section. I opened the book to randomly read any section offered by Allah and it surprised me by opening to the "Ontario" section. Ontario is my home province and there, in the text about cities and population, was a blurb on a piece about Ottawa, my home town. What a strange sign and maybe too coincidental.

After my daily dose of Koshary and shai, I managed to fall asleep at 6pm and not wake until 8am the next day. I must have been exhausted.

The next morning, after my breakfast of fuul and shai, I headed to the synagogue. I was a little hesitant to admit my religion to the security which surround the synagogue on the shoppers street of Nabi Daniel. One staff member, an Egyptian man with dark skin and a desert dust coloured suit asked me if I am Jewish. I said yes and no and he said which one. I rreplied Jewish and he welcomed me in and directs me towards the records room where I hand over my passport. I then get shifted through the deep hollow halls to a very elderly woman, Lena, who speaks English, French, Arabic and Hebrew fluently. Another man, Victor, younger but still faced by the end, speaks numerous other languages and we all start flinging the linguistics back and forth. French here, little Hebrew there and finally an internationally agreed English just to ice the cake. They show me the itinerary of the synagogue and it shows that on the night of the 15th there will be a service for Rosh Hashana - the Jewish New Year and one of the most holy of days for the Jews. The community in Alexandria consists of 25 women, 3 men and me - who was made to promise on the body of dead gefilta fish that I would come. I agreed but I wasn't expecting such a wait. My research found that this holiday is on the 14th so that the "eve" service should be on the 13th but in classic Egyptian style procrastination, it was offset by two days which means waiting in this place for two more days. What would I do?

Lena told me that her husband was fired from his job in the 1970's because he was a Jew then died (I didn't ask of what) and left her penniless and nuliparous. This has forced her to work for the synagogue to survive which earns her little money in a pensionless country. She told me, as she held my arm for support in escort to the main hall, that her only wish in life was to have more money in life but otherwise she was very happy and proud to be Jewish. Post diabetic coma and with arthritic hands she unlocked the door to a large prayer hall with dozens of wooden benches and six towering pillars made of pink Italian marble and decorated by swirls at the top supporting end. There are candles to light for well being near the alter which surprised me as this is typically a Christian thing to do. In my life I have never light a candle or seen anyone light a candle in a synagogue but in a city where a minority live it is likely that the other religion's influences can sneak in inadvertently. She claimed that this was the most beautiful synagogue in Egypt and I wouldn't doubt it. It was simple but elegant. Well maintained and glorious. I agreed to return in a few days to celebrate the new year

I wandered the streets and noticed how little the locals noticed me. I am harassment-free here with perfect weather and tea culture that would make the Mad Hatter straighten up. In fact, my new passion and purpose in Egypt isn't to experience the magnificence of the past but the tea culture that is now. Tea houses are everywhere and are a strong defining point for the Egyptians as are the pubs of England. The tea house all follow a similar design.

The first thing you notice is the fact that there is sawdust all over the floors. A spill can be messy so sawdust offers the clumsy an easy clean up method. When I first saw this, I flashed back to my Sunday clubbing days in London at a place called The Church but this super-drinkery had much more dust on the floor and for obvious reasons - before you walk into the club you buy three large cans of beer and inhale it before getting round two which eventually finds its way to the floor. But I digress. The sawdust gives the place a rustic look like it's just been built. Each seating area will have two tables with one smaller than the other. The smaller one is for the tea and the big one, with the table cloth and the thick place mat to reduce slippage, is for the tawla or backgammon board. The tea can come as "Lipton" or in a bag or as "koshary" (like the pasta, rice and tomato sauce dish) which is loose tea that sits at the bottom of the glass. No matter what, the tea comes strong. Next to the tea is a glass of water and some sugar. The tea house typically has wooden tables, chairs and many shishas lines against the back which can be ordered as regular tobacco or flavoured (usually apple). I spent the last two days in tea shops with either my book or an Egyptian keeping me company. BBUT note that it is never women in the tea houses, only men. Women live in the wallpaper during the day and only come out to shop and gossip at night. I spoke to no women in Egypt nor would they talk to me when I asked for anything including needed directions. Shame, really.

The tea culture here is similar to that of China's alcoholism - if you're bored and don't want to spend money, go to a bar in China and the Chinese will buy you drink after drink. The same hospitality appears here in Egypt but with tea and by the end of the day of exploring tea culture, I drank 15 cups of very black, very strong tea, met a bulk chicken farmer, import/exporter of textiles and a engineering translator for a petroleum company and didn't pay for anything. I learned to play tawla and couldn't fall asleep with my blood full of caffeine, sucrose and tanins. I awoke exhausted to a day of more tea drinking, a planetarium show and the Jewish New Year.

Shana tova to everyone and a sweet one at that. I had a very interesting Rosh Hashana in Alexandria Egypt where twenty to twenty five member congregation of the oldest Jews in the world attended a service at a beautiful synagogue which was guarded by more soldiers than Jews attending the service. Most people there doubled or tripled my age, all their children or grandchildren moved to Israel in the 1970's when times were hard. This left me and one Italian man being the only one who didn't work on the pyramids personally. The service was fast and I didn't recognize any of the tunes but with this being a new rabbi to the place, most didn't sing either and left chattering about with each other complaining of how the rabbi was singing for himself and not for anyone else.

After the quick service, I was invited for dinner with the ageing Jews. We blessed the wine, apples and honey and the pomegranate (as you should) but they also blessed the green onion, spinach, zucchini,figs and the fish. I would have asked why they bless all the things we don't in Canada but the chosen language between them wasn't Arabic but French and I had a hard time asking them to repeat themselves as I speak only a passable French. Victor, the man who met me in the synagogue the previous day, forgot that I was from English Canada and spoke to me in French and I did my best to follow the line of conversation. They ate fish and potatoes then rice and beef and finished off with some denture cream. Fantastic food but nothing compared to mom's roast beef. They thanked me for coming and asked me to attend the next day's morning service.

It was supposed to last only an hour but it lasted four making me stay in Alexandria an extra day. The congregation, now at seven people, chattered away complaining about the new rabbi and he eventually turned to the audience yelling about something in Arabic but I knew it couldn't be happy because he started to cry. The shofar was fantastic in the Gothic cavernous synagogue but the rest of the congregation though otherwise and asked me if I knew to blow the shofar which I said I had no practise then they asked me who I was and I told them that I was there yesterday and they admitted to forgetting who I was being so old and wrinkly. The service ended and we blessed the wine again and went outside to bless a flowing tap that was used to water the garden. Hungry and desperate to leave, I thanked them and they gave me a hand full of figs for the way.

It was a nice Rosh Hashana. I ate like I would have at home - too much and with great food and I thought of my family often.

The next morning, I walked out of my home, the hotel room in Alexandria which I stayed for six days and said goodbye to the staff, the tout and my three imaginary friends which occupied my room in the three empty beds. With some confusion and before 10am when everyone is still sleeping, the stores are closed and the streets are empty, I found my way to the shared taxis to Cairo and headed back to the capital.

My first time in Cairo I noticed the clean streets and the cosmopolitan people but this time I noticed the beggars and the streets sellers. I noticed the hectic lifestyle and the aggravation of getting past people on the sidewalk. Alexandria gave me a new appreciation for Egypt. The people are pleasant and the city is calm and orderly. Cairo is much more chaotic and there is more distraction and disagreement. Still, this city is fascinating and there is plenty left for me to do. I went to Islamic Cario to check out what was all the fuss.

Islamic Cairo is just another tourist shopping district with endless amount of history, culture and touting hidden in every corner of the area. I managed to walk the entire district trying to find it before realizing that I was there but I was pulled around so much from tout to tout, shisha store to fabric place, copper wear market to the onion and garlic souq, that I decided to vacate quickly and managed just to get a glimpse of the monstrous mosque at Hussein Square. With the rest of the day open, I decided to break away from the tourist trail and see the Mosque of Quaitbey.

This mosque appears on the 1 EP note. It represents everything that is Islam and it's glory. It's carved dome is comparable to none other. It's a crowing achievements to Muslims everywhere which make me wonder why you would let the surrounding area turn into a slum. To get to the mosque, you need to walk 20 minutes east of the Islamic Cairo and over the highway. You end up in a garbage filled dusty street with the classic unfinished brick wall housing and with their roofs that have an unfinished floor. I walked passed hollow streets and naked children playing with dirty dogs. Eventually the mosque appears and you quickly noticed that passed the two men accusing you of being an American sympathizer and how the Arabs will crush the enemy is a mosques that is mostly unused and there are multiple boarded up windows and locked doors. I enter to see the security sleeping but he wakes to offer to show me the inside. He takes me to the room with the Tombs of Sultan Quaitbey and his wife then up the mindrel to see the dome from up close. The dome is an amazing piece of work with intricate sculpted flowers and vines criss crossing the entire body. The view from the top is magnificent. Descending, I returned the the pathetic and meagre prayer room and gave the guard 2 EP which he complained should have been 5 and left to the hotel. I still have one more temple and the Citadel to see but I leave it to the next newsletter. For now, like in Alex, I learn best about Egypt though the smoke of the shisha, between the quiet of changing channels or commercials during football games and at the bottom of a loose leaf tea glass. There a few things I have learned and should mention specifically

Men hold hands and kiss each other on the cheek in a European cheek to cheek style but not with the intensity and intimacy of India though the origins are the same. There is no place in the Arab world to be godless but even having god and not being part of an organized religion is still wrong. Men consider the freedom westerners have in dating to be corrupted and that their system is better though often abused in itself. Finally, every Egyptian man says that Lebanese women are beautiful, the food is great and the people are very friendly. I will soon find out. I fly to Beirut on the 21st.

For those of you who are worried about me going to Lebanon (and you know who you are) I quote Gene Hackman in the movie The Heist. In the movie the character Gene Hackman plays is a thief who is caught on camera during a robbery. His wife tells him after the robbery to "make sure you go hide in the shadows for a while." And he replies "that's where they'll be looking for me." She asks "where will you hide then?" And he answers "In the sun!" He meant that he was retiring to the Caribbean but it also means that he won't be hiding but being in the last place they would look - out in the open. For those who are worried, I know that the last place to look for the enemy is in your own home so I doubt, with a little careful discretion on my part, anything will go wrong. It is basic human behaviour to believe something that falls into the realm of possibility and when I tell them I am Christian, I get no contradiction.

It just is. People also say I look a little Egyptian which also helps. I know I will have no problems.
I have celebrated my one year anniversary this past week. It has been a life changing year and being the longest year of my life. I was able to say where I was in each month of this year unlike many years that fly by due to the routine of my drone-like job or circumstance. This year has been a remarkable roller-coaster of emotion, friendship and health. I have learned an enormous amount about the world and myself but have come out with more questions than answers and realize I have a lot more in front of me than behind. It ha been a year that will be forever with me and a year I will refer back to for years to come. When I am old and senile, it will be these last few years that I will mumble about under the sedation of my geriatric medication..

I have one more day in Cairo then off to Lebanon to see my friend Ana from Chiang Mai. Again, I fly into Beirut on the 21st of September.

Be well



Oren Jalon
World Traveller

This message is brought to you by Lipton Tea which seems to have the market on the tea shops and by Nescafe which is the actual Arabic word for instant coffee. Well done, Nestle!