siesta fiesta

Finally, the long awaited,

Siesta Fiesta : A dancing documentary of the Siwa Oasis.

A MM_Procrastination Production

december

Yesterday I received my 4th re-entry visa to Egypt, and besides crowding up my passport (large sticker), it represents my last trip of the year -- Athens, Greece. Yes, I and 7 others spent the New Year's Eve celebration in the streets of Greece with a man named Christos, dancing our way around the city. (Yes, me, dancing...)

So, December has been quite a month, and one I've completely neglected to write about. But between cruising, working, traveling, and flying, I just haven't had enough time. Khalas, blogging will be a new priority for me, a new year's resolution you might say, and it will start with December in review.

Thus, as a sneak peak, here are the highlights of what's to come:

Siesta Fiesta: A dancing documentary of the Siwa Oasis

Cruising the Caribbean with 140 scientists

NYC stateside

Cairo unleashed

Christmas Heathens

Have I really been here a year?

New Years Eve: Greek style

To be continued, Insha'allah. 2010 it is....

yalla flickr!

Finally a Flickr update -- Islamic Cairo Mosque walking, with our host John D Martin III.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/worldatsmall/sets/72157622728039473/

cairo in mourning

Egyptians are the most emotional culture I've personally ever been involved with. By far. The men especially.

Our office finished at 4 yesterday, and it took me 45 minutes to get downtown (normally 15 minutes) because of the traffic, the marching crowds of flags and painted faces, the stopping cars cheering and yelling at each other, the horns honking in unison. It was beautiful. The whole city, 18 million people, bombarding the streets since the morning. Men, women, children.

We chose this local ahwa to watch it, which is like a dive shisha joint for old Egyptian men who like to play chess and watch football, and we chose downtown because we wanted to be in the middle of the action for the win. We got there almost 3 hours before the match, and the streets around it had already set up chairs and shisha along the curbs. Electronic stores had turned every TV to face the street and on this particular corner someone had brought a projection screen which eventually brought in so many patrons you could barely see it from 15 feet away.

People on cars, on walls, on shoulders. Chairs in rows filling the whole breadth of the streets with more people kneeling in the tiny voids between them. I walked around [looking for schwarma] about 30 minutes before kick off, and I couldn't believe it, honestly, it was like crack to them. Like they had never needed anything more in their lives, than needing to see a TV right now. It was gorgeous.

Our ahwa was packed, maybe 150 Egyptians and 6 Americans in a space built for 20, all jammed around an 18 inch TV that was situated on top of a case of Stella to get it high enough to be fair to all. Cigarettes were being lit off each other, never ceasing to filter the screen, and all in unison the Egyptians told us the whole match through shouts and gasps. We didn't even need the announcer [which was great since it was in Arabic.]

When Algeria scored, it was like you had just kicked every one of them in the balls with their own foot -- a shout of shock followed by a gutting silence that pulled the whole crowd down into a paralyzing crouch. I felt so bad for them...

The rest is history. When it was over, as the silly Americans divided our tab as fast as possible so we could get on the streets to see the public reaction, the Egyptians sunk their heads and literally walked out, without saying a word. Our Egyptian friends looked catatonic, like they just didn't have the strength to talk about it yet. I was one of the first to get to a window and thought maybe I was a bit early, since everything in my immediate sight was empty.

But that was it. It was unbelievable. All 18 million Egyptians had absolutely just turned around and walked away. It was SILENT downtown. No horns, no flags, no people screaming. No traffic, no crowds, nobody. It was empty. It was an absolute 180 from life before 7:30 that night. So we just hopped in a cab, and you could see that taking us home was the last thing that driver wanted to do. Silly Americans...don't they know?

There's only 3 men at work today. And I'm certain the rest are physically unable to make themselves get out of bed. This is just how they are. They take everything to heart, everything personally. This tragedy, this injustice happened to each of them, happened to all of them. And it's going to take some time to get over.

Cairo is in mourning today.

what's she reading?

CD: Do you mean a clear idea?

CG: No, a clear process: a site, a program, and a supportive client, meaning an engaged client who trusts you. The best work for me is work that comes from the pursuit of an idea. I don’t have to agree with it but I can be so moved by the commitment to the idea that I can learn from it.

MM: And the same can be true of the commitment to culture, to place, to belief, to football.

Get moving.

egypt v algeria

Saturday was the World Cup Qualifying match between Egypt and Algeria. Egypt needed to win 3-0 to qualify, 2-0 to tie. The second goal was in the last seconds of the match and the whole city was in an uproar. Today is the tie breaker.

I've never seen such united passion for one team, one sport, as I've seen in Cairo the last few days -- business meetings have been postponed; vendors selling flags have lined the streets in 20 foot intervals, passing their patriotic paraphernalia to moving cars, taxis, mopeds; horns honk in unison relentlessly, day and night. This is going to be good.

We [4 Americans and 10 Egyptians] have decided to watch the match at a local joint, an ahwa to be precise, called Horreyya, where on a normal day you can find old Egyptian men smoking shisha and playing chess, hidden behind boarded up windows to conceal their pint size vices. It's one of the oldest ahwas in Cairo [which means solid locals], positioned in the center of downtown [fantastic celebration location], and tonight will be spiced up with a few newbies and a lot to shout about.

Yalla Egypt!

"oh my god"

This past weekend I went close the the Libya border, about 9 hours west of Cairo, to the Siwa Oasis, and from there into the Great Sand Sea [Egyptian/Libyan part of the Sahara] We had 9 Americans, 2 Frenchmen, 1 South African, 1 Egyptian, and a Brit, led by 3 Bedouin guides, for 3 days.

Only one of us had been to this place before, and I think that naivete is what elicited such a deep response, not just in me, but in all of us. The first night, after biking around the village, the guides took us to the most amazing sand dune I had ever seen [at that point] for sunset, and we all sat in a line atop the ridge and said nothing for what seemed like hours. The sky lit up, 360 degrees around us, and the only thing you could here was silence. Unbelievable.

When I can finally wrap my head around that desert, that place, that world, I'll write about it. Until then, all I know to say is --

Silence really does have a sound. And it sounds like this:

desert camping!

FINALLY, I am getting the chance to go out into the Western Desert to go camping!

Wendesday night a group of about 15 of us are heading to the Siwa Oasis to tour around a bit and then head out into the dunes whith our local bedouin guide, Fathy. He'll be leading us for 2 days and 2 nights, building fires, cooking food, and no doubt providing a sort of unique form of entertainment. My friends Megan and Jaimee have used this particular guide before, and while they said he was amazing, this time he's assured them it will be even better, as Siwa is his home turf.

Awesome.

Here's our checklist:

Swimsuit : hot spring and fresh water oasis swimming

Snacks : to accompany Fathy's meals

Bar of soap : bathing in hot springs

Sleeping bag : no tents necessary

Warm clothes : it gets cold in the desert at night

Costumes, wigs, snorkel gear : nightly costume and dance party

Music : to add to our awesome dance moves

Sparklers : why not

Cigarettes, lighters : obvious

Camera : just in case we don't remember

Alcohol : 26 bottles of wine, 8 bottles of liquor, 3 cases of beer

I think "Good Luck!" is in order. See you on the flip side.

m26

Today I am older, irrational but bolder.

Though I hardly know how I got here.

What is this place? What is this pace?

Here in my twenty-sixth year?

Did I get lost on the way? I hope so, I pray.

Cause if not this was all done in vain.

From home to the east, twenty-five was a beast,

and maybe one day I'll explain.

But no time for that now, as I'm moving somehow,

like Montana let loose on the shore.

Mom really was right! Time passes alright,

especially the greater the score.

A pen and a sketchbook, some memories, some good luck,

is not what I'd call a whole lot to lose.

Yet their powers combined, have begun to define

what I like to call my subconscious muse.

So what's a birthday really? But a checkpoint that's frilly,

reminding you you've built this from scratch;

that the past has just made, a backbone brigade

to challenge the rest of the batch.

Thus a poem will suffice, maybe some vodka on ice,

to sum up my feelings on age.

I like getting old, accept it, take hold.

I'm definitely not getting offstage.

Cause whatever has happened, has been wanted, been beckoned,

even if inspired by beer.

So bring on the next one! With gusto, the big guns!

It definitely gets better from here.

allah akbar

I just made my second cup of Nescafe, instant coffee [man, I miss real American coffee], and am now being serenaded by the crazed Sheikh [Muslim priest] that resides at our local mosque downstairs.

Cairo is a city of 1,000 mosques, and during the daily edans, an ominous echo of Arabic prayer engulfs the usual traffic banter of the city. Allah Akbar. There's an eerie beauty about it actually, especially with the midday Friday prayer. As the Sheikh continues to mount his defense with estranged inflection, beating his soapbox for the sake of Allah, the background is filled with the other 999 Sheikhs, singing, shouting, praying through loud speakers, at different octaves, from different minarets, across the city.

"There is no God but Allah and Mohammed is his prophet. Allah Akbar."

When Faith, Xavier, and I first arrived in Istanbul last December, it was at 6:30 in the morning, peak morning prayer time. It was the first time I had heard an edan, and I distinctly remember being moved by it, being shocked by it -- loud, forceful, beautiful, melodic. At this point I've probably heard over 1,000 edans -- 5 times a day, for the last 270 odd days. And while sadly most of them sink into my world, unnoticed, occasionally I'll take a moment to light up a cigarette, and be amazed at the synchronized hum that takes over the city.

Ilhamduallah.

2 months later

It's really too bad I've waited this long to get back in to the blog. Ramadan has come and gone, new friends, new places. But khalas....

This week starts my re-initiative -- to write, to read, to focus on where I am now. I'm going to start by shying away from lengthy rambles [at first] and try to write small blurbs about the who, the what, the now.

So, today is the 6th of October, and a National Egyptian holiday [though I'm still at work] celebrating the war against Israel for Sinai. It only took me 7 minutes to get to work, everything but Metro Market is closed, and all of my roommates are laying peacefully [and hungover] on the sofa watching episode after episode of Entourage Season 6. We're trying to get a group together to go camping in the desert of Faiyum Oasis just south of Cairo this weekend, after running in the Hash, but if not, we'll do it next weekend as a pre-celebration to my 26th birthday -- 20 October. This will be two in a row I've been abroad...my how fast this year has gone. This time last year I was in Berlin I think, approaching Skylar's departure from the trip. Just goes to show you that somethings, sometimes, are better unplanned.

Cheers. I'm back.

new music sunday vol. 2

it's the little things

Mari Michael : "What website should I go to to pre-purchase my Harry Potter ticket?"

Egyptian Coworker : "What do you mean by 'pre-purchase?'"

Mari Michael : "You know, go ahead and buy it online so I don't have to wait in line tonight at the cinema."

Egyptian Coworker : "Oh, no, we don't have anything like that here. I mean, how would you give them your money?"

vote!

With the Photography.Book.Now competition underway, they have opened up voting for the People's Choice Award. So I'm trying to activate my network and get my name out there --- thus, if any of you have a spare moment, I'd appreciate a vote for me! Just follow the link below!

[ZOOM] by Mari Michael Glassell



Voting is live through August 20!

Thanks guys!

[zoom]

Competitions are always good remedies for procrastination, and for that I thank Blurb Photography Book Now for forcing me to put together at least one form of physical evidence of my trip. Yes, I along with 2,221 other hopeful photographers and graphic designers, entered their international competition last week. I mean, why not? It will be judged on cover design, the actual photography itself, and book design -- the winners being announced on September 14th.

I entered my texture series, and have been working on the book version the last few weeks. Here, for the sake of time, is the book introduction:

Culture and place are living, breathing things. Dynamic and constantly evolving on every scale, they gradually develop their own structural integrity -- their own texture.

Textures are not just about surface, but about depth as an integral part of “place.” Every city, every region, every continent has its own texture, its own quality created by the interrelation of its people, its architecture, its atmosphere. And while it is visible from many different perspectives, it’s more pronounced when we can touch it, feel it, and smell it on a human scale.

Zoom is about taking a closer look at the layers of culture, and seeing how these different places have consistencies at small, yet differ so vastly at large. It’s about exploiting similarities within their textural composition, yet celebrating the beauty in their individuality.

After 3 continents,19 countries,in 8 months,I took 2562 photographs. 408 of which were textures.

Zoom in.

http://www.blurb.com/my/book/detail/771100

new music sunday vol 1

Because it makes me happy.

quarantine

*again, I started this weeks ago. I'm just terrible at spontaneous posting.

"The unlucky are nothing more than a frame of reference for the lucky, Mister Fisher. You are unlucky, so I may know that I am not. Unfortunately the lucky never realize they are lucky until it's too late. Take yourself for instance; yesterday you were better off than you are today but it took today for you to realize it. But, today has arrived, and it's too late...You see? People are never happy with what they have. They want what they had, or what others have...I'm a bad man who doesn't waste time wondering what could've been when I am what could've been and what could not have been. I live on both sides of the fence, and the grass is always green."

The Rabbi - Lucky Number Slevin

I've always loved this quote, especially the way Ben Kingsly delivers it. Gorgeous. I think this outlook is a proper attitude for life, and one I suppose I've been trying to shoot for the last few months -- minus the Rabbi gangster influence. And while I could go on and on into some inevitably pretentious rambling about life, the universe, and everything, I instead use this quote today merely to discuss the Egyptian reaction to the (evil drum roll) Swine Flu.

Yes, after killing most of the pigs, most were convinced Allah would spare them, and were in shock when the government announced (suspiciously only after Obama left the country) that there were up to eleven cases. The students at the American University of Cairo were quarantined to campus and face masks broke out among the masses. My favorite, though I will say alledged incident, was when a local McDonald's employee was diagnosed with the flu at work and after he was promptly sent home, they issued a mandatory close for all American fast food restaurants in the city -- because clearly that is the most logical solution towards prevention. Efficiency is definitely NOT the Egyptian's forte.

Needless to say, a few days after my friend Lindsay arrived from America, my boss pulled me in his office and carefully explained that some of my colleagues had expressed concern with my direct contact to a recent American. I, of course, didn't take this personally as I had seen the mass hysteria towards the subject, but I did wonder, why now? I had already been in the office 3 days, utterly exposed, and Lindsay even had her temperature taken at the airport upon immediate arrival, which should offer, if only a little, reassurance. But khalas, I was asked to take a week's paid vacation from work, just to be safe. And that's never something to complain about, no matter what the reasoning is behind it.

So you see, yesterday I was ostracized for being an American (a potential carrier of Swine Flu), and today I was rewarded for it. Moral of the story: grass is always green.

(I would like to point out, if merely for clarification, that no where in the religion of Islam does it say to slaughter innocent pigs. Their decision was based mostly on govermental approval and radical ideals.)

cairo is closed

*this was written the day Obama was here -- 04 June 2009

The streets were empty; almost silent in comparison to the daily rantings of car horns and skidding tires. Police stood, equally spaced, in a single file regime down the main thoroughfares in the heart of the city. New signage, shouting it's advancement in civilization, adorned the usual chaotic intersections, u-turns, medans, and from sidewalk to storefront new paint, still wet from the night before, sparkled white amidst the brown undertones of the polluted surfaces above. Everyone was quiet. Everyone was deep within their homes -- hiding, waiting, expecting.

Obama is coming.

Unfortunately I couldn't get tickets to his speech, so instead I rallied a following to stream it live at my office. Of course watching it with Muslims, among Muslims, provides a very different context than the American media, yet I still wonder whether the power of its influence is the same -- the power of its "collective conscience," of its immediate culture. Sometimes influence and impression are bred from your surroundings, sometimes they are conjured within. Either way, neither is mutually exclusive I've found, and no matter how confident I am in my own perspective, this day I found myself more tolerant, more understanding, more a part of the Arab view. But don't worry Mom...I'm far from converting.

For months now I have spent thirty minutes to an hour a day talking with my boss to work on his conversational English skills. We cover a wide range of topics, from architecture to urbanity, modernity to history, cultural identity to commonality -- but in the end we always find ourselves deeply immersed in politics. He's brilliantly aware, and though rightfully biased religiously, he's naturally "bi-partisan" politically, which has yielded a nice perspective to learn the historical and present complexities of the Middle East through. I mean really, it's like gold in my pocket.

After Obama's speech, our daily discussion was saturated in the promise of a "peaceful Arab nation" and of a diplomatic Israel -- most likely just like any two people discussing that specific speech on that specific day. But, whether good or bad, critical or supportive, BOTH of our angles were grounded in Egyptian relevance -- not American. We talked about the evidence of popular sovereignty and religious tolerance, assumed anti-Americanism, and compatibility between western and Muslim values. The reality here in Egypt, being somewhat of a major character, is much different than what is personified by American media. And while Obama obviously needed to be diplomatic in his speech to the Arab world, what few realize is that within Egypt, he was already surrounded by his biggest fans -- which is helpful in times like these.

Granted the Israeli-Palestinian conflict is undoubtedly the major point of interest for educated Egyptians, and he addressed that rather charismatically, but he didn't offer up that solid of a solution -- which was noticed by my colleagues. This fight for peace has been going on for years, and quite honestly in the minds of Egyptians, America has the power to end it, to control it, to enforce it. Especially when you look at if from a raw, "survival of the fittest" perspective. In many ways, and I don't mean this to be condescending, America is Egypt's heartthrob; the beefy guy on the front of the magazines, strategically draped over his rebellious motorcycle, basking in the glory of being number one. And though that might be a naive perspective for them to have, no teenage crush is ever rational.

That all being said, it will be interesting to see what Obama's speech will spur in the Arab world; whether a peaceful Arab nation is on the rise or whether such conflict is just inherent in this deeply historical part of the world. My boss did say one thing, that though was buried in religious connotations, had a very factual point: The Middle East, the fertile Crescent, is the only area in the whole world that has never been calm, never been peaceful, never been quiet -- it's the birthplace of humanity, of civilization, and every one, every religion, every government, has some claim to fame over it all.

And for you Harry Potter fans, in a way the Middle East is like modernity's elder wand: he who holds it has the most power, and he who has the most power always has the most to lose.

You decide: