WWJD?

Not burn a Quran.

"Ramadan Cream"

This e-mail came through a list serve I'm part of today. It was the funniest thing I've heard in a long time, so I thought I'd share it here:

Sam writes:

This is the first year that I've fasted and my skin has been kind of dry, so I went to a pharmacist in Zamalek for some help. He said "Ramadan Cream" I didn't know that they made such a thing just for Ramadan, so I said sure, "Ramadan Cream please." He just stood there. I said it again and he repeated "Ramadan Cream" and I said yes! We went back and forth a few times and I got a bit frustrated so I left. Does this product really exist, if not does anyone have any suggestions for dry skin due to fasting?

The response:

This may not be a festive joke but it gave me the best laugh I've had in ages.

Ramadan kareem ya Sam.

Iraqi reality TV puts fake bombs in cars

The New York Times' 'At War' blog and the Gawker website have recently revealed a disturbing reality TV show aired in Iraq. Titled "Put Him in [Camp] Bucca," the show plants fake bombs in celebrities' cars then has them pulled over at security checkpoints, where they are taunted with such lines as, "You are a terrorist. You will be executed!" and threatened with being taken to a maximum-security prison.

Understandably, there has been outrage over the show since it began airing at the beginning of Ramadan. According to the New York Times blog,

Nearly every Iraqi newspaper carried complaints about the idea of the show, with many well-known figures asking for it to be canceled. Some said it was simply too close to Iraq’s daily reality.

The article continues with comments from the show's website, most of which are negative. One particularly poignant comment reads, “To al-Baghdadia channel, I hope that your channel does not dance on the wounds of the Iraqi people”.

A blurb at gawker.com notes,

But "Camp Bucca" keeps rolling on, because who doesn't love the terrified look of a man who thinks he's going to spend a long while in an American-built maximum security prison?

Despite the show having the approval of Baghdad's security forces, it seems just plain wrong.

What's the deal, Egypt?

There must be something in the water - strange and unfortunate things are happening in Egypt, perhaps more so than usual.

To begin with, a $50 million Van Gogh painting was stolen from the Mohamed Mahmoud Khalil Museum on Saturday morning. Saturday evening, officials reported the painting had been retrieved from the possession of two Italians at Cairo airport. Since then, however, it has been revealed that the painting was not recovered and is still missing.

This isn't the first time the paining was stolen - it was previously stolen from the same museum in 1978.

Now, here's the kicker: none of the alarms in the building were functioning at the time of the heist, and only 7 out of 43 surveillance cameras were working. Anyone who has spent time in Cairo knows most security features are for show more than anything. Most metal detectors don't work, and even if they do security personnel very seldom question foreigners. But this is a bit much, even for Cairo.

To make matters worse, a statue of Cupid which stood in the courtyard of the same museum was shattered less than 24 hours after the painting was stolen. According to Bloomberg News, the statue was toppled by journalists, who tripped over it during a press conference.

Seriously, guys?

In other news, the head of Egypt's al-Wafd opposition party has acquired prominent Egyptian newspaper Al-Dostor.

One more thing. Egypt is reportedly buying back natural gas it sold to Israel. Why? Looming gas crisis. Israel bought the gas for $2 billion. How much would Egypt have to pay to get it back? $14 billion.

The last issue I want to talk about is the most disturbing. Over the weekend, a 13-year-old girl died during a female circumcision operation. The doctor who performed the operation was apprehended and now awaits trial.

Female circumcision, also known as female genital mutilation (FGM) is illegal in Egypt. Even so, it is estimated that 70-97% of Egyptian women have undergone some form of FGM.

More information can be found over at BikyaMasr.

Yeah. Way to go, Egypt.

An Egyptain So7our

We made our way down a dark, dusty street as 2am neared. The car was left in a lot near Al Hussein, but we headed the opposite direction, away from the famous mosque and the landmark souq surrounding it. After a few minutes a lit courtyard opened before us, with tables and couches scattered about. Dishes of food, plumes of shisha smoke, and men and women filled the area.

We settled at our table, quite a mixed group: four young Egyptian men, an Egyptian girl home from studying music in Paris, myself, and an American girl in Egypt to spend a semester at AUC. Drinks arrived quickly - lemon and mango juices and tea. The tea was unlike what I've had in Cairo before. Along with small individual pots of tea, a large cup of fresh mint, and dish of sugar, cups of cardamom, dried sage, and cloves were delivered.

I must admit I'm not really a fan of cardamom, and the cloves didn't really seem to add much (perhaps had they been ground?), but I love sage in my tea. I first tried the concoction while in Sinai along the Red Sea, and since then a bag of sage has nearly always been found in my tea drawer.

Shortly after, the ever-present shisha arrived. Watermelon and grape tonight for my friends. Talk and shisha smoke mingled in the still, warm air. Cups of tea were drunk. Eventually menus were delivered and food ordered: fool, ta'amea, tahina, salad, and baskets of fresh baladi bread found their way to the table. Talk lulled as food was quickly inhaled, leaving plates empty, bread crumbs scattered, and bellies full.

After glances at watches, water and yogurt were ordered. As the young men greedily puffed away at last-minute cigarettes, the kitchen closed. Tables were cleared. Final gulps of water were swallowed as the call to prayer rang out. Slowly another call joined, and another, until the familiar echo came from every direction, swelling and then slowly fading again.

Good-byes were said, cars were filled, and a near-empty highway driven. Home, at last.

Contemplating Rarity & Intellect Among Egypt's Masses

I recently read a blog post written by an Egyptian friend who recently finished university and has now entered the working world. In his post, he discusses the weight of words to ordinary Egyptians, a consequence of rarity, and the implications on intellect.

I want to post a few excerpts here, but I highly recommend you read his post. It offers both an interesting - if sad - theory and a look into the mind of a young working Egyptian.

When someone is expressing an opinion which happens to deter from the norm, unfortunately your average Egyptian would consider it a proverbial slap in the face. A 'how could you?' reaction is automatically fired back. This sensitivity has given more weight to the word. Since the average Egyptian is a text book conformist, varying opinions are a rarity, which produces millions of citizens who can't converse objectively and effectively with people they may disagree with.

He goes on to discuss intellect and education in Egypt, beginning with the following observation:

I've was curious in school why the Arabic word for mathematics was a word almost exactly like the word for sports. The answer to that of course was that the brain is like any other muscle in the body that always requires exercise. Mathematics to the brain is like running to the legs.

Unfortunately, he argues, a combination of factors - including summer hit films and music mass-produced by the culture industry - have led to a declining intellect, as Egyptians no longer exercise their brains. "It is not uncommon to meet a person with esteemed academic merits and a frigid inflexible mentality," he says.

Anyway, these are his thoughts, not mine. Go read his post and think about it.

In other news, a stolen Van Gogh painting has been recovered at Cairo Airport. An Italian couple had it. The painting, worth $50 million, was stolen this morning from Cairo's Mahmoud Khalil Museum. Turns out, this is the second time it's been stolen from the museum - the first time was in 1978.

Ramadan Kareem!

Wishing everyone Ramadan Kareem!

Arab Man Convicted of Rape After Consensual Sex with Jew

An article in The Guardian this morning reported that an Arab man from East Jerusalem was sentenced to 18 months in prison after having consensual sex with a Jewish woman. According to the judge, the woman would never have had sex with the man had she known he was not Jewish, and consequently the man was guilty of rape by deception.

Handing down the verdict, Tzvi Segal, one of three judges on the case, acknowledged that sex had been consensual but said that although not "a classical rape by force," the woman would not have consented if she had not believed Kashur was Jewish. The sex therefore was obtained under false pretences, the judges said.

The article also quotes Gideon Levy, a liberal Israeli commentator, and I think his statement is extremely valid:

"I would like to raise only one question with the judge. What if this guy had been a Jew who pretended to be a Muslim and had sex with a Muslim woman? Would he have been convicted of rape? The answer is: of course not."

Levy's comments are worth noting. He's right. Yet there is a more important issue at stake - precedent. Is this really an acceptable precedent to set? What's more, this really is an affront to women who have faced "classical rape by force" as Segal phrased it.

Since when does lying about one's religion constitute rape?

Debating Journalism: Humanity vs. Professionalism

Perched on a rock by the edge of a cliff-side village at sunset, I’m surrounded by a curious group of children. Ranging from about five to nine years of age, they eagerly watch over my shoulder, fascinated by the combination of foreigner, computer, and English. One notices my camera and soon there is a chorus of “Soureeni! Soureeni!” Take a picture of me.

The adults offer to shoo them away, but I don’t mind.

We’re sitting on the edge of the village as an orange and pink sunset colors the sky over the valley below us. Olive trees cover the hillsides, and one-lane roads weave into valleys and over ridges. Clouds move slowly in a heavy sky as energetic 5-year-old Assad is carried off by a smiling father. Within moments he’s back, jumping and laughing and making faces in his sandals and red sweats.

“Mish ‘arfa,” I don’t know, I tell him, and he bursts into laughter before resuming his rapid-fire speech in Arabic.

It’s a comforting way to end a difficult afternoon, with smiles and laughter all around as children and youth and their older counterparts gather to talk with their “international” visitors.

Just a few hours ago I sat down with two young men from this small community in northern Palestine to interview them for a story. As we talked about the changes the village has seen since the death of a 16-year-old member of the community, I discovered both young men are cousins of the boy. Slowly, our conversation shifted as the young men began to talk about their cousin.

Mohamed was shot by IDF soldiers in March 2010 as he ran to help another friend who had been shot. Neither boy had participated in the day’s peaceful demonstration against the neighboring Israeli settlement; neither was politically inclined. They were in the wrong place at the wrong time. The soldiers used live ammunition. Crowd-controlling rubber bullets were absent. The deaths were a shock to the community of 800.

As I listened to Mohamed’s cousins and our conversation drifted far from the limits of my story, the boundary between professionalism and humanity shifted, blurred – I knew the intimate testimony would remain between us. It would never be found in an article.

It is not the first time I’ve faced a situation where the line between journalism and friendship blurs. One of the challenges of being a journalist is keeping perspective and humanity at the same time, and it is not a simple challenge.

Humanity is vital. Personal connections are what make stories real – what can bring a tear to a stranger or solidarity from a reader time zones away. At the same time, one faces the dilemma of losing sight of the end goal. An article which captures pain and emotion without describing it as such is that much more powerful for doing so.

The line between journalism and friendship or between professionalism and humanity is not immovable. It shifts. At times it may not even exist. Yet while some rapport between interviewer and interviewee is vital, crossing the invisible line between them is dangerous to both.

Perhaps those with a strong sense of empathy are not meant for what can be a cut-throat profession. Empathy does not lend to cold analysis, which so often seems to be praised. Yet, is not the absence of humanity more dangerous than the alternative?

Update: Mahmoud Shoukry

Hi everyone,

I know many of you have been visiting my blog for updates about Mahmoud. I have just learned that Mahmoud will be having surgery soon, so please keep him in your prayers and pray for a safe surgery and quick recovery.

Thank you all.