Nostalgia

Just came across these pix of our last breakfast just before moving out of our old apartment in Zamalek. Croissants on the balcony in the bastion of Cairo's crumbling aristocracy! Corinthian columns and everything. Miss it terribly. Dokki is very convenient - see my entries on the other blog about the metro etc. - but has a dearth of physical beauty.
 
 
 
 
 

Relaxed Saturday

I have about four (very minor) publications over deadline here, plus research for a supposed next book to work on and various lectures to give and conferences to organize, etc., and none of it is getting done fast enough, but I think the stress is more constitutional than situational: it just makes me feel important to be stressed. So I feel guilty whenever we are not doing one of three things: Seeing the Sights (we've done almost none of this - quick, someone come visit us!), Soaking Up the Political Scene (best done without the kids), or Getting Academic Work Done. By this criterion, yesterday afternoon qualifies as a very pleasurable waste. After a morning at the Shooting Club (I hate belonging to a club, but who cares? It was Henry's first swimming lesson - went great - will post pix from our other camera later) we took a taxi back to our old neighborhood in Zamalek. Classier than our current neighborhood. The idea was to have lunch and buy groceries.
Esti fell asleep in the taxi, which made lunch much more pleasant.

Ken was pretty sleepy as well.

We went to Arabica, which has delicious fateer and pomegranate juice and also crayons on all the tables. Henry was in his "so grown up and fun to be around" mood (as opposed to his "inexplicable monster" mood). He drew some hybrid things: a ukulele-man, a drum-table, and some drumstick-centipedes. The last thing is a door.

"One of these things is not like the others."

Ditto.

Ishta!

Swiss Club, 6th October

National holiday, what national holiday? This was in the afternoon, after I went to the official celebration sites. (For which, see other blog.) Henry found some Spanish kids to play with.

His t-shirt says, roughly, "Do the right thing."

Esti took a tumble (this was before I came, when Ken was trying to watch them both) off a swing, into some bushes, but emerged undaunted, fully ready for more adventures.

Tarzan!

Some local residents seemed deeply unconcerned about the celebrations going on elsewhere in town.

Al-Fann Midan!

Since shortly after the revolution there's been an art festival on the first Saturday of every month, organized and staffed by independent artists, held in Abdin Square in front of the former palace. It starts around 4 or 5 and really gets going, to judge by last night, around the time our kids need to go to bed. But we had plenty of fun anyway. Milling around beforehand, Esti, as usual, made some friends who wanted to be photographed with her.

Later on she was a big hit in the concert tent as well, bouncing rhythmically on my shoulders and moving her arms like a proper hip-hop fan as an Egyptian group called Egy Lions Family rapped, "I7na Sawra!" (We are revolution!) (To give you an idea, here's a video of them from back in March.) Esti can be quite social on these occasions...

...but easily bothered if people start touching or photographing her too much. Healthy reaction!

Henry colored patiently through most of the festivities along with Mahmoud, son of my journalist friend Mohamed. They were promised a puppet show, but apparently it never happened.

To quell his disappointment we stuck around a little longer to hear a few songs by another band, "oud rock" type of thing, actually quite good.

But then we had to get home to bed -- Sunday is a school day here!

Gabalaya (Fish Garden), Zamalek, Saturday afternoon

While Esti took another marathon nap on Saturday, Henry and I went out for a walk. We ended up getting to the Fish Garden on Om Kolthum Street by the river. Kind of a spooky place, Henry decided.Even before he saw the bats on the ceiling of the aquarium cave.

Huge and dusty, dotted with couples looking for privacy, but it offered lots of opportunities for climbing rocks, exploring caves, and running around.

Plus, a sad little acquarium. A friendly park attendant offered to take Henry's picture with a baby crocodile.

Did we ever get around to posting Henry's song that he wrote before we left? We recorded it once with Dan and once with Mira and Abi. The last verse goes: "I will walk beside the Nile/ and if I see a crocodile/ I will walk away and smile/ Goodbye, I have to go."

Henry was only a little nervous about this.

Up next: a photo opportunity with two baby snapping turtles.

And a quick climb - perhaps in search of a break? - to the highest point in the park.

And then another attendant wanted to take his picture with Henry. On my camera - why? Part of it is the fascination of blond children, part is the desire to practice one's painstakingly acquired foreign languages, and part the desire to do "any service" for foreigners that might earn a tip, even though we didn't need anything.

"Goodbye, I have to go!"

Henry's class

Girls and boys hanging out in separate groups before school starts in the morning. They could be running around, but no.
 
Henry fits right in.
 
See my other blog for a description of this somewhat surreal scene.
 
 
 
Winding up for the dramatic finale.
 

Hurriyya Park, near Opera metro

Hidden treasure. Has this park been here forever, and I just never needed to know about it before? It's on our (highly convoluted) way home from the kids' school, so on Wednesday we stopped in to play for a while.