cairo – Citizen Reporter

Tahrir Square, The Encore

At this point you may think to yourself “Is Mark still talking about Egypt more than 2 months since returning home?” The answer is yes. Proudly.

As I have now published all the interviews I have to share with you from the journey, I realized there was still audio that I had never put together and released to the public – the audio from Tahrir Square, as Chris and I, together with inspiring friends and people who just came right up to us, speak about what was going on around us. It was, and remains, a unique moment in my life and clearly from listening to people, an unforgettable moment in their lives as well. Part of a long struggle where there are beautiful and terrible days. This one, I believe, was a beautiful one. Take a listen, one last podcast from the Arab Artists in a Revolution series, one last chance to be transported back to a time and a place that captured the imagination of the entire world. Special thanks to the dear friends who every time we came to the square, stuck with us made us feel at home.

Boutros Boutros-Ghali: Population Explosion and Water in Egypt

As part of the Arab Artists in a Revolution series, during our three weeks in Cairo, we had the pleasure of meeting up with the former UN Secretary General Boutros Boutros-Ghali. He may not be an artist but at 90 years of age, he is an extremely experienced observer of Egypt and the world, who is passionate about humanity and its problems. In this interview we meet in his living room over looking the Nile, the river that is “like a god” to him and who’s present and future crisis he see’s as 100% tied to that of Egypt.

On the occasion of his 90th Birthday, Dr. Boutros and I in Cairo. November 2012.

Unlike previous interviews in this series, you may find (as we did) that this one does not go smoothly. Dr. Boutros doesn’t always like the kind of questions where you have to use your imagination, the “Academic questions” as he calls them, “that help fill pages of the newspaper”. Yet despite his frustration with the media, he lays out the state of Egypt on the global scale; what is happening, why it is happening, and the key questions that people inside and outside the country should be – but are not- asking.

Sounds of the Sultan Hassan Mosque

During our time in Cairo, in between the steady stream of interviews and journeys to different neighborhoods, there were also the moments when we managed to do a little tourism and visit magnificent sights of the ancient city. On one such afternoon, under the guidance of our excellent friend and Egyptologist Shereif Nasr, we visited the Sultan Hassan Mosque, a beautiful Mamluk era structure completed in 1359.

Personal Revolutions in North Africa

This week I find myself in the Northeast of the United States, home for the holidays and also to process all the audio, video, and photos from the Middle East – North Africa journey. Being back in the US means being subjected to the local and national media context, which makes American stories seem larger than life, and Egypt feel like another planet. At holiday gatherings and reunions with old friends I am often asked things like “So is it all falling apart in Egypt or what?” Sometimes its put in nicer terms, but the tone is most often one of skepticism and as if their minds have already been made up about what is happening in that part of the world.

Images from Mohamed Mahmoud St., Tahrir Sq.

In the American press I see the other standard reaction towards the events taking place in Egypt, including conclusions about what took place in the weeks that I was in Tahrir Square – the revolution has been hijacked, a new dictatorship has emerged, the opposition is falling apart. When I read and hear such analysis, by both intelligent and less well-informed individuals, I again feel like I left Egypt and landed on another planet. In this world everything has to fit into categories and boxes. There are either winners or losers. Things are either successes or failures. So whatever those countries are going through, they must fit into one of these easy to understand categories.

What I wish most is that I could, even beyond my work here on the website and on radio open source, show them examples of the changes that have taken root on the personal level in Egypt and Tunisia. (and beyond I suspect) It never makes it into headlines or fancy mainstream news analysis, that metro workers went on strike last month, an action that would be unthinkable under the dictatorship. Women, long plagued by street harassment and oppression at home, are now organizing themselves to adopt tactics to neutralize such harassment and get out of abusive situations. Lower class people, long barred from ever working in higher skill and prestige jobs, are starting to demand equal opportunity and an end to prejudice based on what your father’s profession is. The list is actually much longer than this, but in my many conversations over the course of three weeks in Cairo, it was impossible to avoid stories of individuals carrying out personal rebellions against an old and oppressive tradition.

Is the process complete and successful? Are the oppressed finally getting the justice they deserved? No. Sadly, these changes are slow to reach everyone and there is no guarantee that they will take hold for everyone everywhere. Is there resentment and push-back from those who don’t want to see these changes come to fruition? Yes. Many people fear what is to come and would prefer to keep things the way they were. But beyond all of this, no matter what happens in the future or what is happening now, something has changed in Egypt and that something is the individual mindset. And as so many people reminded us, over and over, once you reach this change and start thinking like a free person, there is no going back.

From the Military to the Stage in Egypt

In the early days of the 2011 revolt some young Egyptians found themselves at the beginning of their military service. While in Tahrir square and on the streets the winds of change blew away a dictator, in the barracks soldiers knew little of what was going on outside and what their fate might be as soldiers. Would they be deployed to the streets to confront ordinary citizens? Do they still answer to the same president or is there someone new? The questions were many and the information was scarce.

In the lead up to and during those days in the military, Ahmed El Gendy wrote notes to himself and when the rare chance presented itself, on facebook. He wrote as he thought about his own life, his experience as a soldier, and how it relates to what is happening outside. And when he finally got out, his writings eventually became part of a theater piece, set along side letters from a political prisoner incarcerated during that same time period.

Beyond the theater and since his military service, Ahmed has also become part of a small but growing group of young Egyptians involved in contemporary dance. Something that a few years prior was virtually non existent.

Today we sit down with Ahmed El Gendy in a little garden high above Zamalek, Cairo, to talk about military service during the revolution, creating a theater piece based on that experience, and the evolution of his young career in contemporary dance.

The Play: No Time for Art III directed by Laila Soliman

The Dance: Celebration of Differences and Existence (CDN2)

Unexpected Encounters in Egypt

We’re at the nearby art gallery speaking with a talented and kind-hearted painter who is struggling to fully explain his project in English. After a few minutes of explanation and some translation he turns to us and says “Why don’t you come to Nasser City tomorrow, my friend Khaled holds an open studio every Friday and you’ll meet great artists who are good at explaining things in several languages.”

Less than 24 hours and a memorable taxi ride later, we’re walking into a first floor apartment that looks less like a house and more like a secret hide out for talented and funny artists. The walls are covered in art, which includes plentiful collage material pasted on the doors and walls in seemingly every corner of the room. The ceiling is cleverly lined with old acrylic paint tubes that look more like festive lighting. A look into the bathroom reveals a giant white plaster hippopotamus covered in magazine clippings. At the little round table, 4 friendly people are seated with laptops opened, phones on display, and a few big professional cameras strewn about. They drift in and out of conversation and presenting things on screens to each other. Over at another work station, a dedicated music laptop plays the music of Lebanese legend Fairuz, while another few people sit in the next room chatting about a project.

We’ve wandered into an artists’ studio where every friday a group of friends gather in what they describe as a weekly ritual of conversation and camaraderie. And despite our presence disrupting the usual flow of conversation, the group is pleased to have us and we are each immediately greeted with explanations and examples of their work. The youngest among them is 22 years old and she shows me her interactive art installations that focus on surveillance culture. She clicks through the images and explains how it works and where it is on display now. “If I had known you were coming I would have brought my marionettes” she later tells me. Meanwhile one by one they explain their work and their feelings about the past two years. In the difficult events at Tahrir in 2011, they lost friends, including one of their regular colleagues of the Friday open studio, who was killed by a sniper. They speak about him and how they lived those days, all of them at the square of course, where they still return to as part of the Friday ritual. “We will have tea, finish our discussions, and head over to Tahrir later today,” we were told several times.

Both the work and the people were extremely inspiring, as this group not only specialized in innovative art, but they also obviously looked after one another. It was like visiting a family of different generations, dedicated to helping one another succeed in life and art. And lucky us, on this day they welcomed us with open arms and plentiful pastries, pleased to have another chance to get to know visitors and communicate their story to whomever would be interested in listening. (or reading)