Arabic wedding

I was delighted to receive an invitation to an Egyptian-European couple's wedding. It was held in a banquet hall of a large hotel. When I entered with my friends, the dj was playing lively Arabic tunes. The Egyptian family members and friends were seated on the left side, and the other guests and colleagues on the other. The chairs were decorated with balloons, and there were two large hearts on the podium, displaying the couple's names.
There was no MC to lead the occasion or to announce what would happen next, like in European weddings – one of the biggest differences I observed. At least that solved the issue of multi-lingual gathering. The whole evening flowed seamlessly from one event into other, and Oriental music played a big part. Everyone took snapshots of the bride and the groom. Then the guests were invited to dance – ladies with the bride, and men with the groom, both in their own circles.
Then it was time for a lavish buffet dinner. There was a everything one could possibly imagine, from appetizers to salad, soup, and meat The chef had made delicate and imaginative ornaments from vegetables and fruits. Because of the Muslim family, only soft drinks were served, no alcohol. After dinner the rings were brought forward on a red pillow. The bride placed the fingertips of both hands together, and the groom slid the engagement ring from right hand to the left, along the fourth finger. The bride repeated the same for the groom, and they exchanged kisses – on the cheek and forehead, as was appropriate.
The newlyweds then had their first dance as brand-new Mr. and Mrs. Both had chosed a special song, one in English, and the other in Arabic by a Egyptian celebrity singer, Amr Diab. More dance followed, and first the parents, and then all the guests were invited to join.
We proceeded to sample the desserts – cakes, tarts, cookies, and baklava pastries. We were all given star-rain sticks, and as we lit them, the wedding cake was carried forward, as well as a long, sharp knife. The couple was assisted by the manager of the hotel to cut the cake, and again this was celebrated by dancing.
Gifts were handed to the couple. As the custom went, we took our turn to extend an envelope, containing money. Then we climbed on the podium, and took pictures with the bride and groom.
Four belly dancers emerged, dressed in rather revealing apparel. They performed several numbers, and changed costumes in between. Then four men, dressed in traditional, loose garments, danced with long sticks, beating them on the ground according to the rhythm. The lead belly dancer performed a routine in front of the bride, and invited her to join her on the dance floor. The groom's turn came next. Groom's friends jumped to the floor, and danced around him.
There was one more typical Egyptian dance number, called tanoura (pictured). It is performed by a man, dressed in several layers of colourful skirts, spinning around for nearly ten minutes. The skirts were lifted high, at times covering the face of the dancer. At one point he removed the topmost skirt, and formed a bundle, resembling a baby, while he kept whirling around without break.
Five hours later the newlyweds made their exit. Musicians playing a drum and traditional horn lead the way, and the guests followed at the wake of the couple. Women took a souvenir from the floral centrepiece as they left the hall. A car with a driver was waiting outside, and the escort customarily honked the horn all the way until the destination.

Everyday life in Egypt #1

I've shared some of the highlights and unique experiences. Now I want to give you few glimpses into my everyday life.

At grocery store
There's a 24/7 mini-market downstairs of my apt. They sell juice, milk, candy, chocolate, toothpaste, phone cards, and 6-litre water jars, my main staple from the shop. The cashier typically doesn't have change, the case in all shops, so I need to have an exact amount. If I don't, no big deal, I pay the rest the next time I drop by. When I have picked the products I want to purchase, the following conversation often follows.
- Salaam aleikum. I will take these (juice, water, and some candy).
-Cigarettes?
-No, thanks.
-Phone cards?
-No, thanks.
-Bubble gum?
-No, thanks. (If the clerk doesn't have enough change, I'll get bubble gum instead).
-Cigarettes? (again)
-No, I don't smoke. Halas (This is all).

The clerk shows the price with his calculator. He then picks up a plastic bag, and I say, 'La shokran' (no thanks). This happens every time, even though he knows me. It is very hard for a local person to comprehend why someone doesn't want a plastic bag. It's equally hard for me to accept one, thanks to my Western mind, brainwashed with environmetal consciousness.
The plastic bags were forbidden in the Red Sea governorate in August, because they are a major environmental issue. The governor gave one month's transition period, but now, half of year later, there is no change. The shop clerks, especially at grocery stores, are obsessed with handing out bags, and one is not enough. There's a bag for every few items. A multitude of plastic bags are stuck in the airport fence. A plastic bag flying in the wind is such a common sight that it has actually been nominated the unofficial national bird of Egypt.

Laundry
One of my colleagues has a washing machine, but it's more convenient to drop dirty clothes at landry, located downstairs of my place. The price for washing and ironing is identical for any item, 1 Egyptian pound (15 cents) from a sock to bedsheet. The laundry is dried outside, where the brisk sea wind and hot sun dries it in few hours. The clothesline hangs between two tile pillars of an abandoned high-rise building site. The clothes are ready to be picked the next day. They are neatly folded and packed – you guessed it – in a plastic bag, and the price tag is stapled on top.

Transportation
There are downtown-hotel buses, microbuses and taxis. My favourite mode of transportation is microbus, a.k.a. yalla-bus. ('yalla' means 'let's go'). They stop anywhere you wawe your hand, and a two-kilometre trip costs 0,5-1 pound, depending on how local you behave. When you enter, you tell the driver your destination. There are no street names, so you just name the nearest shop, hotel, or restaurant where you want to get off, such as Vodafone or McDonalds. You can also just jump in, and when you want to get off, holler: 'Älägäm hena' (Stop here.) In Arabic there are no polite forms, such as 'please' or 'could you...' You just tell, 'do this'.
Taxis can be a pain in the neck. They are cheap (10-minute ride equivalent to 1,3 euros), but they don't always know the way, and sometimes try to trick you. They may claim you only gave them 50 piasters (half a pound) instead of 50 pounds, and sometimes they refuse to drive you if you are going only for few kilometres, or bargain too low price. No big deal though, because there are over 1000 taxis around, about 50 % of the car population. Normally you need to negotiate the price beforehand, but I've learned the local way: state the destination, and pay whatever seems appropriate. There are hardly any complaints. The drivers blast Arabic music (talk about a cultural experience), but they also smoke while they drive, as 90% of men everywere, inside the buses, cafes, and apartments.

Ah, and the taxis love to honk the horn. The drivers have developed a diverse language using the horn. It means, depending on the context, 'I'm free, jump in', 'Watch out', I'm about to pass you by', 'You idiot/move faster'. A newly-weds' escort is also announced by beeping the horn. At dark horn-honking is replaced with flapping the far lights on and off. Nearly not all drivers use driving lights at dark, because they think they disturb others. The emergency lights come handy at dark, especially when the car needs to slow down at bumps. I've also gove native, both by honking the horn and using emergency lights, whenever appropriate.