Skip to main content

Fire in Al-Areesh

At the Ghazala
I eat Tiramisu for breakfast and drink a Nescafe Gold, with a drop of milk.
It is early afternoon, the sun is up and the Sea is exceptionally blue.

Last night, in the city of Areesh-Northern Sinai, clashes erupted between masked locals and the police. The news on the net is inconsistent in regards to the numbers of killed and injured. I get my news first hand, from my friend Al-Arabi, who comes from that city. He works here.

"Ten people were killed, and 35 injured, when members of Al-fawakhiriyah attempted to free members of their tribe held in Egyptian prisons. Al-fawakhiriyah sought help from their armed Bedouin brethren. The police abandoned their station, and the prisoners were freed" Guns were fired in the evening, celebrating the departure of a dictator and the return of loved ones."

Early this morning, another police station was attacked in Al-Areesh. This time, the police knew about the attack beforehand and fled the scene. The station was set on fire, no injuries incurred.

'We just want the police out of here," Al-Arabi tells me, as we play tawlah (backgammon, Egyptian style). "Now that the military is in control, there is nothing to fear. Everything will get better. The food that was supposed to be exported in the past couple of weeks but was not, is now being distributed to the people. The finest quality of flour, sugar and rice. The young people are spearheading the revolution, and if their demands are not met, they will riot again."

Al-Arabi is optimistic. I am skeptical. I think of Iran. The fall of a dictator, and hopes for freedom and reform, prematurely killed by the iron grip of the Islamic revolution. With time, another dictator came along, but this time armed with religion.

We are joined by Al-Iskandarani, a 28 year old lawyer from Alexandria. He couldn't find work in his field, so he's working at the beach here.
"Islamic law is the only thing that would work in Egypt". he declares ... and our conversation takes on a whole new direction.

FTS

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A letter: Interfaith marriage and crime

Where do I get my inspiration? Different places and times: Sometimes it's from personal experiences and events, sometimes it's from stories I hear or read, with a bit of pepper and salt. Sometimes it comes from nature, dreams, and news reports. Sometimes inspiration just comes, from a place unknown to me. Usually, it's a combination of all those things. Below is a paragraph from my latest performance, "In the Lost and Found", followed by the letter that inspired it. (I apologize for taking so long to publish it Leila .) The letter is set against the reality that in Jordan, as in several Arab countries, a woman cannot transfer her citizenship to her husband (while the man of course can). "They tell me I will lose my inheritance if I marry a non Muslim. He has to convert, otherwise the marriage is false, the kids are bastards, and the wife is an apostate, her "blood is permitted" - with no punishment to the killer. I am obliged to give my husban...

Today's headlines: A rant

I wake up to sound of stupid tunes blasting outside my window. It's not an ice cream van-it's much louder and it comes around more frequently. If you've been to Jordan you know this phenomenon. It's not a riddle, but a pick-up truck selling cylinders filled with gas. I wonder about the driver, listening to the same tune all day. He's probably used to it, but it must be messing up his brain. I get out of bed, cursing. But he's only trying to make a living. The cost of gas keeps rising. I drive into traffic and try to block the honking. I stop to fill up gas After driving off, I realize, "the guy at the pump just ripped me off." I curse again. He's probably underpaid. Last night they said the temperature today will be dropping "expected rain showers, god willing" Today, it's hot, and the plants on the balcony are covered with dust No water in the tank to clean them up I don't know who to curse. I check my email to find forwards a...

Challenging Tradition in a Traditional Society #1

There are some traditions that are worth upholding, but many have collected thick layers of dust so opaque that we can no longer see what was once beneath them. We mistake the dust for the essence, incessantly complaining about a'raf and wajibat, the rights and wrongs of our forefathers...but we play along to avoid ridicule and choose the chains of cowardice, prejudice, and misconception. Ignorance. I am not saying that all traditions are outdated and useless-far from it, in our Arab culture are jewels and treasures, and I am the first to call for preserving them. But let us stop for a moment and consider what we are heeding, rather than following blindly like grazing sheep. Sheep and goats: I am reminded of kindergarden and a song we learnt in school. The teacher would walk around the classroom singing: Ya Ganamati . And we'd respond: Ma Ma . ...Ghannou waraya : Ma Ma ..and so on and so forth. Very endearing, but also very telling. We grow up, Ma Ma-ing until we reach the gra...