This past week I lived with an Egyptian family in a part of town called Boulak al-Dokror. I would liken this part of town to the state of New Jersey: nobody really wants to go there. For instance, I could hardly find a taxi driver to take me there from school. It is pretty poor, way overcrowded and it’s economy survives off of Tuc-Tucs (known in other countries as Rickshaws, basically a sketchy, very small three wheeled car). I personally never felt all that unsafe….but the extent of my time in Boulak al-Doukror was spent in a Taxi, walking 200 yrds from the street to the apartment, and in the apartment all night and morning.
My family consisted of Mama, Shaimay-23 (Shy-may), Sara-22 and engaged, Eyya-20, and Ahmed-17…. My “host dad” was absentee, he has been in Saudi Arabia for three years on a work contract. All of my sisters were incredibly gracious and quickly adopted me into the family, forcing me to eat my weight in food every meal and really never giving me a second alone. One night I woke up to my sister Eyya (whom I shared a bed with) sitting crossed legged, watching me sleep, but also tugging my shirt down to cover the ½ inch of stomach that was showing. On that note, we were told to be fully covered the whole time, so I was wearing sweatpants and a long sleeved tshirt in a room with no air conditioner or ventilation….not good. Ahmed was a doll, he wanted to talk about Eminem, the rapper, all the time.
The house was an interesting matter….The apartment was itty, bitty, and filthy. The kitchen was the size of maybe a handicapped bathroom stall, and there was no table, but we ate on the floor of a bedroom in between two beds with the tv always on. Most of my time in the house was spent in this room eating, or watching tv, or talking to my sisters and mama about all sorts of things. One of the strangest parts of this whole experience for me was the schedule of Egyptian families. We would eat dinner around 10, 11,12 (and my first night 1am) and then I would convince them I needed to sleep. I would try to fall asleep in my sauna, and everyone else literally stayed awake until I got up at 7am to leave for school….They would sleep all day, wake up when I got back (5pm) and start making dinner….and this was repeated every day. Very strange….
In the house, Muslim girls are not required to wear the veil (hijab) so they pranced around in track suits (which they wore every day, all day I was there). Mama wore a simple nightgown all the time, so I was really surprised to see her in a full out Nikab (the all black, completely covering ensemble that looks like Ninja suit in my mind, with only slits for eyes)… I had no idea she wore the Nikab until about my 3rd day with the family. I didn’t really get to the bottom of why she wore the Nikab (more on language barriers later) but here daughters only wore the hijab. But, mama going out meant the Nikab made an appearance, and an opportunity for me to wear the Nikab, which I did (although not in its full glory)…I got to put the face piece on, and felt so hidden and anonymous, although my sisters said that I was obviously not Muslim because of my bright green eyes). My sisters also had me put the veil on on three separate occasions, one for a photo shoot, and two for going outside. My feelings on the veil are so hard to pin down: It is clear to me that in most cases the veil is not something at all detested by Muslim girls. A lot of Muslims think that to be a real Muslim you have to wear the veil. Liberal Islamic girls and guys do not think that the veil is required, and some choose not to wear it. For example, My Islam teacher does not sport the veil, but she has been severely persecuted because of it. I told my host family that my Islam teacher does not wear the veil and they were very concerned, told me she wasn’t a good Muslim, and made me promise to tell her that she needs to be veiled. There is definitely social pressure to wear the veil, I would say about 90% of Muslim girls in Egypt do, but it is not this horrible, backwards practice like Western media shows. The veil doesn’t take anything away from girls, it is meant to protect them, and temper gender issues that are prevalent in every cultural. But when I wore the veil I couldn’t help but feel that it is wrong. I didn’t like it, but did appreciate the experience. There is much to be said on this matter (email for more).
So, most of you know that I studied some Arabic in the States…well that was formal Arabic, now I am trying to adapt to a colloquial, slang Arabic called Ammeyya. The transition has been very frustrating, but the homestay was so incredibly helpful for my Arabic. I regained some confidence that I had lost. Only one sister was able to speak English, and it was pretty broken English. We primarily communicated in Arabic, and I LOVED IT!! I love love love Arabic. It was so reqrding when they told me that I speak beautiful Arabic, and they laugh at the funny accent I have, and of course the formal Arabic that creeps in every so often (pretty much like what Old English is to us….imagine a foreigner coming up to you and saying “how dost thou do on this day?”). I have been laughed at a lot, but I am trying to have a good attitude about it!
Anyways, I got to have some really great conversations with my sisters about engagement, which looks different in Egypt than in the states. Being engaged basically means that you are dating. Two fo my three sisters had been previously engaged but broken it off, which isn’t odd or taboo. One sister is currently engaged and hoping to get married in a year. My mom talked to me about Islam (she studied the Quran), and helped me memorize a Sura from the Quran. She was telling me all of Islam is about how God is one…when I told here that is the same as Christianity she said absolutely not, Christians believe in three gods, and that is haram (shameful, sinful) and Christians are takfir (apostates), she knew full well I was Christians. Mama tried to get me to be Muslim when I told her that I like Egyptian boys I met a relative of my family whose husband has two wives. I discovered this in the middle of a conversation with some women about how in Islam men can have up to four wives. We had all agreed that it is not preferable that men marry more than once, but then this woman piped up to say her husband had recently married again. Typically men marry more than once if there is something wrong with the firs wife (namely that she can’t bear him children). But this case was different. From what I gathered (remember, this is in a combination of Arabic and a little broken English) her husband’s friend, or Sheikh advised him to marry this woman, against his will, because she had three little kids and their father had either died or ran off…so she was left with no money and no job. So he did it as an act of charity. If that doesn’t stop and make you think, then you are not reading closely enough this far in…I personally had to do a little re-evaluation after this one.
On a lighter note, I would say that I got a lot closer to Egyptian-girl culture. First step: remove hair from face. Literally. My host sisters “threaded” my whole face, save the eyebrows. My upper lip was the first victim, them my forehead, cheeks, chin, and unibrow-area. It was terribly painful on the cheeks and upper lip, other than that it was awesome. Step two: Makeup in large quantities. I am not really a make-up type of girl, but I thought I would give it a try. My sisters proceeded to cake on foundation, blue eyeliner, and hot pink + bright green eye shadow. Mascara and pink lip gloss finished me off. I couldn’t look in the mirror all night. Step three: Belly dancing. I am terrible at belly dancing but nonetheless Eyya tried to show me some great moves for the lucky guy I marry… it was a blast although unsuccessful. Step four: Cooking. For a big meal I stuffed cow intestine with a mixture of rice, tomatoes, basil, onions, and other spices. This was then fried in oil and consumed. Surprisingly, it wasn’t as disgusting as I thought I was going to be…il humdulilah. Step 5: Motherhood. While lounging and talking to the women, I got full view of overweight Egyptian boobs and nipples in abundance. The youngest child was 2 yrs and nursing. Enough said. Step 6: Live in pajamas. My sisters picked me up on a Saturday night, and didn’t leave the house until the following Friday. They wore the same pajamas the whole entire time, never once changed. Kinda of strange to me…I hate being dirty. Step 7: TV. Very important to Egyptian life…the girls always watched TV, even when they were asleep the tv remained on. Best show: Deal or No Deal, Egyptian style. It is a very dramatic show, actually, everything in Egyptian culture is dramatic. The show has music from Schidler’s List playing when the guy picked a bad box. People were openly teary eyed when he lost. I mean, really people. Also, we watched Biggest Loser Middle-Eastern style which is basically lots of overweight people, speaking in Arabic which left a lot to the imagination. One more: National Geographic Abu Dhabi. There was a show about Dingos in Australia, and when the dingo attacked a human my sisters screamed bloody murder, had to turn away from the tc and be consoled by mama. I was laughing and they hated me for it Step 8: be obsessed with computer games. I played about 4 games with my sisters and then tapped out…they played for hours and hours and hours. We listened to a lot of music on the computer and watched the worst movie ever made (it was their fav), Krishna. Yikes, scary bad acting in that…
When it is all said and done, living with an Egyptian family was an amazing experience. I would be lying to say that I am not relieved for it to be over, but I gained priceless insights, stories, and of course pictures from my time with the Abdul- Aziz family. Pictures, and perhaps videos, to come.
Peace and Love.
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