Jenyfer Matthews

It is hard to believe that I’ve been in Maryland for nearly an entire month already – where does time go? No, seriously – where does it go???

I wasn’t really up for much sightseeing before because I’ve been just a titch stressed out, but since this weekend will likely be our last in Maryland I decided we needed to make an effort to see a few of the bigger attractions. I mean really – Washington DC is right there. So Saturday morning my sister and BIL and I gathered everyone up and we went to the National Zoo.

(click any image to enlarge)

It was a little gray outside, but not too cold so all in all fairly pleasant. I never normally think of going to a zoo in the winter time, but unless it is truly cold and snowy winter weather, it’s a good time to go to the zoo because the animals are all out frolicking and not limp from the sun and heat – the children either!

We had only just arrived when a man who was passing told us that the lion cubs were out playing so we ought to go there first, before they went inside. As it turned out the lion cubs were way on the other side of the zoo, but it was worth the hike to get there – they were so cute!

Apparently toddlers of all species like to chew things!

There were two lionesses and about six cubs, who were all romping around below while the daddy lion sat up on the hill alone. Every now and again one cub would go and try to get his attention.

You can see how well the daddy lion reacted to these overtures!

The only thing more entertaining than the lion cubs was the nearby bronze dinosaur skull. Who could resist this pose? I’ve been to three big zoos in the last year and I think I’ve enjoyed the bronze statuary as much as seeing the live animals.

They are not the most exotic of creatures, but prairie dogs are so cute! We gave them nearly as much time as the lion cubs. I’d be embarrassed to tell you how many pictures of prairie dogs I’ve taken in the last year between the Minneapolis Zoo and this one.

I honestly try very hard not to take too many pictures in zoos because what’s the point? Yes, the animals are cute but how many of those kinds of pictures do I need cluttering up my computer? I couldn’t resist this red panda though. They kind of look like a cross between a raccoon and a fox. Their coat is so plush and you might not be surprised to learn I am partial to red heads!

We left the zoo just before it closed at 4:30pm and drove down into Washington DC so that I could at least see, if not explore, the main attractions. It was interesting to see the White House and the Capital Building in person, having seen pictures so often on TV / in movies. Mostly I was amazed by how close everything was together! Of course “close” is relative – we walked around for about 1 1/2 hours and didn’t see nearly everything there was to see. One day we’ll have to go back and tour the Smithsonian museums (though I don’t suppose they’d let me pose with my head in a dinosaur jaw there!)

The first question out of my son’s mouth was “Is the Washington Monument taller than the pyramids?”

Given all the Masonic symbolism in Washington DC, I should have known that was a trick(y) questions. I looked it up when we got home, and yes, it is taller than the Great Pyramid. I also learned several other interesting and possibly disturbing facts about the layout of Washington DC. This would be great stuff if I were a conspiracy theorist or a thriller writer (though I suppose it’s been done to death already) Take them with a grain of salt…

The sun was going down by the time we reached the Lincoln Memorial. As you can see behind me, the reflecting pool is drained for renovation – even the WWII memorial fountains were turned off for winter. Bad timing for me. I’m sure the minute I leave the area all the cherry blossoms will burst into flower too.

The sun was down by the time we left the Lincoln Memorial but the Vietnam Memorial was still a moving sight – so many names.

It was a long day, but one very well spent introducing my children to some of their own country’s national monuments for a change. Both children were born abroad and have never actually lived in the US – its probably just as well for to have a crash course in American history since it looks like we’re going to be here for a while…

Before we left Cairo, our neighbors asked if it was okay for other university faculty who lived in apartments in more outlying areas to stay in our place in the event that things turned even uglier and they felt unsafe or isolated (or both). We agreed – but we also moved our nicer carpets, my quilts, and the contents of our liquor cabinet (it isn’t a house party after all) into the master bedroom and locked that door. That left three other bedrooms, the rest of the house, and contents of the kitchen at their disposal, as well as our TV and large DVD collection.

As it turned out, no one stayed in our apartment. However, when my husband returned to Cairo on Wednesday night and opened the master bedroom, he discovered that one of the windows in that room had blown open while we were away. Cairo is dusty on a normal day with the windows shut, and there had been a sand storm in our absence. I don’t really want to think about the mess that the open window let in. The rest of the apartment was nice and tidy though because a neighbor in the building sent over her housekeeper to clean in preparation for my husband’s arrival – the housekeeper that I fired at the beginning of January. I’m grateful she didn’t hold a grudge, and also embarrassed. You’re not quite good enough to clean for me, but you’re just dandy in a pinch?

Just to make things all the more awkward, my husband will likely end up hiring her back while I am away because while he cooks and does laundry, he certainly isn’t going to do the floors, dusting, or bathrooms himself. Having her help is great for him of course, but then what? I show back up at some point and fire her again like the wicked witch?? Going to put that out of my head for now think about it later…

My husband is going back to Egypt today.

In spite of our neighborbors’ assurances that things are “fine”, I’m fairly certain “fine” is entirely relative. The grocery stores are apparently as well stocked as they ever are and schools are beginning to re-open, but there is still a curfew in effect, there are still army tanks guarding the perimeter of our suburb, and apparently the banks and ATMs are not functioning as usual. What good does it do you to have a well stocked grocery store if you can’t get the cash to pay for anything?

My husband isn’t thrilled about going back just now, but he’s forced to go back for the sake of his job and our collective income. The children and I are staying in the US for now, until he gets back and has some time to assess the situation for himself.

I’m not thrilled with the idea of being separated. I’d prefer to be back in my own home, in my usual routine, with the kids in school and doing their endless tennis lessons. Funny how the same-old-same-old-stuck-in-a-rut-routine can seem so attractive when it’s been abruptly interrupted and taken away.

Given how the unrest is spreading across the region at present, it doesn’t make sense to go back until we can be reasonably certain that we wouldn’t have to pick up and evacuate immediately again. In spite of my post title, I don’t think there is much question that for now it’s best that I stay put – however much I dislike homeschooling the kids…

I’m a guest on Sia McKye’s blog today, talking about what I packed on my hasty departure from Egypt. Stop by and tell me: What would you pack if you only had 24 hours and one suitcase per family member?

I wanted to share the above video because it so beautifully counters so many of the images of the angry, unruly, mob that news channels are showing. The people in Tahrir Square are not rioters, they are peaceful protesters and there is a world of difference.

I’ve had a week to decompress a little from the intense stress of leaving my home in Cairo in such a hurry. I’ve even had time to generate some optimism of a sooner-than-later return to Cairo with various reports from friends and neighbors who have stayed behind and who say that everything is “fine” – no nearby violence, no looters, schools re-opening.

I am intensely grateful that we have a comfortable place to stay while we sit tight and wait to see what happens next, yet it is hard to make decisions on how to proceed from here when everything is so up in the air. The decision making portion of my brain seems to have been overloaded in recent days – it’s even hard to decide what cereal or bread to buy in the grocery store right now with too many choices (but at least those sorts of choices are not life and death)

I was waiting to hear Mubarak’s speech with as much anticipation as everyone else in Egypt yesterday – sure that this was what we had all been waiting to hear, that he was finally going to do the sensible thing and step-aside. It seemed that by giving his powers to the vice-president he was setting it all up for an easier transition. I allowed myself to hope that we could confidently return to Cairo by the end of the month – even if it was only for the remainder of the school year.

When Mubarak announced that he had no intention of stepping aside, I was as disappointed as everyone else – though a large part of me wasn’t surprised. This is a man who has been part of the militarily supported dictator machine for half a century. He isn’t the sort of person who possesses any subtly or diplomacy – or obviously any charm. I don’t think that anything short of a coup against him will get him out of office at this point. I didn’t trust his choice of Vice President – why should anyone else? The people of Egypt don’t want him making any more decisions, period, so they certainly don’t want him to decide who will take power next, and especially not someone who himself is so heavily involved in the current corrupt machine.

I’ve have thrown my shoes too if it had helped anything.

What does this mean for me and my family? I still don’t know – but it seems pretty clear that things are going to have to come to a head soon and that with each day this drags on, I will be forced to make some decisions about building a new life outside of Egypt. The children can’t continue to watch cartoons and play Wii all day long, however much they enjoy it, while I obsessively read messages from friends back in Egypt, searching for some kernel of hope…

ETA: Apparently I spoke too soon – who would have guessed that Mubarak would announce today that he is stepping down after his ridiculous speech last night? And again, hope springs up…

My family departed the Cairo airport on Tuesday February 1st, at the private terminal where the US State Department had set up chartered planes, and were sent to Istanbul. I only have the highest compliments for the US State Department – they were very organized and calm in a time when I was so stressed out I could hardly follow the simplest of instructions.

We stayed in Istanbul for a few days, to collect our wits and relax. I wanted very much to enjoy my time in Istanbul because who knows when I might get back, if ever, but it was bittersweet. I was too emotionally raw to fully relax. Also, Istanbul is too reminiscent of what Cairo could potentially be like with proper leadership and care.

Well meaning friends suggested I should take advantage of the tip to shop. There were certainly many lovely items I could have happily bought in other circumstances, but with the thought that we might shortly be both homeless and jobless, I decided to limit myself to taking pictures instead.

It helped that we had been to Istanbul once before because we even though we arrived a bit shell-shocked, we were able to arrange for a hotel in Sultanhamet, the historic area of town. We stayed in Sultanahmet ten years ago – Istanbul was our first big trip abroad after we moved to the United Arab Emirates, before we had children.

Both of the pictures above are from the roof terrace restaurant at the hotel. Isn’t the Bosphorus lovely?

We happened upon this local market and I recognized it as one we had explored ten years ago, and I am pretty sure we bought two lovely carpets in one of the shops. I deliberately avoided the carpet shops this time. I have a weakness for them and carpet merchants are extremely persistent.

I was more drawn to the ceramics, but it isn’t so easy to carry around – particularly when you don’t know where you’re going to end up.

The Grand Bazaar is a wonderful place. I enjoyed it more this time, now that I have more bargaining skills.

We didn’t end up buying anything except two soccer jersey sets for the children – the one bright spot of the trip is that I bargained him down to 50% of his starting price.

Now I’m killing time at my sister’s house in the US, waiting to see what happens next. I find myself alternating between despair and anger. Despair over all that has probably been lost in Egypt and also anger that it could have been avoided if only the regime had listened to the people they ruled. I know it is much more complicated, but even if the president had invested a fraction of the money he lined his pockets with for three decades, it is likely that all of this could have been avoided. As it stands, not only will the country have to be calmed and rebuilt but all of the accumulated mistakes of several decades rectified.

I have often likened the various economic and political problems in the US to a diet – it is very easy to gain weight but it takes a long time to lose it. In the same respect, people expect Obama to fix America’s problems in a much shorter time span than they were created. How long will it take to fix the problems of Egypt?

I was reading a blog summarizing the problems in Egypt recently in which an anonymous comment asked “Why should I care? If they want a better life, they should leave.” It is always more complicated than that. Many do leave, but many more are either prevented from leaving by the immigration policies of other countries or they do not wish to leave because they want to live in their own country. There are no easy answers, anywhere.

Yes, my own life is in a time of upheaval, but I do at least have other options. I have another country to go home to and eventually will find new job opportunities. There are so many hard working Egyptians that I have met in my time in the country who are only going to be hurt by these problems, at least in the short term, that I cannot help but be depressed for them – and perhaps foolishly optimistic that I can return to Egypt if only to say a proper goodbye…

Now that my family and I have made our way safely back to the US via Istanbul, I’d love to relax a little. It seems self-centered and trite to complain about my own trials during the last couple of weeks when my own problems are minor inconveniences when put into the larger context of what is going on in Egypt right now.

We are out of harm’s way – no tanks in sight here – but still I am having trouble not obsessing about the situation. I am worried about what will happen next for the people still on the ground in Tahir Square and in the various protests around Egypt, and particularly for the many Egyptian shopkeepers and people I knew from my neighborhood. My family and I can leave, but how will all this upheaval effect their lives long term? Not surprisingly, I am concerned about what will happen next in my own life as well. At the core of it, I am a planner unable to formulate a plan at present.

It was extremely difficult to make the decision to leave Egypt – disrupting the school year and all of our usual routines, leaving friends. Even though we were there, it was very difficult to get accurate information without internet or phone service and to know whether or not leaving would be premature – or more scarily, too late. Now that I have left, it is still difficult to make decisions because no one knows what will happen next. Should I homeschool and hope we can return sooner than later? Should I enroll the children in school here? Will we be able to return in the short term? Who knows – not me.

I do hope that the friends and neighbors who stayed behind, sure this would all settle down within a week, a month tops, are correct, but I personally could not have lived that length of time on little sleep and adrenaline. I didn’t bring any books with me to pass the time, but it doesn’t matter because I can’t concentrate on anything but reading Facebook posts from friends still hunkered down in Cairo.

I woke early on Tuesday morning, my brain immediately buzzing with thoughts of things that I had forgotten to pack / prepare for our departure. I wasn’t sure how it was all going to work or even fully trust that the bus was going to come on time to retrieve us.

I walked out early, before the curfew was officially lifted, up to the end of our street. It was quiet, aside from the groups of men and the occasional commando posted along the street, and yet I was nervous as I walked along. It was probably more me than anything else, but several nights in a row of sporadic gunfire and worry does not make for restful nights.

The bus for the airport showed up an hour earlier than I expected, as did more people than we expected. It took some time to load the bags and everyone who would fit, and sort out exactly where we were going. The children wanted to look out of the windows, but the driver cautioned us to keep the curtains drawn and not look out.

Traffic was light and there were tanks posted at regular intervals. I have to say the plentiful tanks did not make me feel so much more secure. I fully understood why our driver was nervous.

The road was closed at one point, all traffic diverted down a ramp. At the bottom of the ramp, the road was suddenly closed and all the accumulated stopped traffic asked to turn around and go the other way, opposite the correct way of the side of the road.

The bus finally managed to get to the airport, and then to the private terminal for the chartered planes that the US State Department arranged. There was a bit of confusion because the driver was not familiar with the terminal but we eventually found it.

Once we arrived, many of my worries were soothed by the organization of the process. We waited in line for about 40 minutes before we knew where we would be going, not that I cared. I just wanted to get out, and not have to wait for two days in the terminal with my two children before we left. The US State Department was also prepared for long waits it seemed.

We were in lines for two hours – very orderly and sedate – and then on a plane scheduled to go to Istanbul. The plane then sat on the tarmac for a few hours – first because there was a lack of airline personnel to load luggage, etc, and then because one of the passengers insisted on getting off, supposedly to help a friend whose apartment was getting robbed. We left our home at 9:35am and our plane finally took off at 4:30pm. A long day, but much better than sitting for hours (days) in the airport.

I am sick, depressed, stressed, and still anxious as I watch the news and watch the conditions degenerate. Will I ever be able to return?

For now we will go back to the US, to wait and see…

Saturday afternoon, after my visit to the local neighborhood and photo op with the tank, I returned to our building where a pre-planned potluck party was going on in the garden. As you might imagine, the only topic of conversation was what was going on around the city. I ran across some people who had headed out to a large grocery store a few miles away earlier in the day and had pictures of looters and smoke billowing out of the building.

There was a curfew imposed that day and as 4pm rolled around, we heard the sound of shots in the distance. At that point, the party atmosphere abruptly dissolved and everyone cleared the dishes to bring them inside, then headed up to the roof to see if we could see anything. At the sounds of shots / tear gas canisters being fired we all decided we felt safer inside. The guards of our building shut our gates and stayed watchful. A short time later, there was an unexpected announcement from the mosque: they were warning people to remain vigilant and be on guard against looters. The men in our building quickly gathered anything that could be used as a weapon, put up makeshift roadblocks and took shifts sitting outside all night keeping a watch on the street for suspicious activity.

There was also a fire hose dragged from the central hallway and pulled over the roof of the guard’s house to be used to repel people if necessary.

It wasn’t just our building that heeded this warning – there were road blocks at nearly every intersection and clusters of men on the street at regular intervals, all of them wearing armbands to identify themselves as peacekeepers.

My husband took regular shifts while I slept fitfully upstairs, in my clothes, so I could be ready to react and herd the children to our designated safe room if necessary. As soon as this situation developed, I packed two trolley bags with every scrap of money I had stashed around the house (in various currencies), my jewelry, our laptops, and small family mementos. I woke often in the night to the sounds of shots which seemed to be coming from a nearby prison and police barracks.

We did this same routine for three nights.

It was very hard to get accurate information without phone service. The news from outside was reporting what they could, but it was also difficult to know if the information they were getting was accurate. There were rumors flying. We had a friend who booked us a flight to leave, but the soonest we could get was Wednesday. My husband wanted to go to the airport sooner to try our luck, but we were hearing terrible reports on the chaos at the airport. One friend went with her children on Saturday evening and ended up sitting there until Monday. I also heard stories of people getting to the airport in a taxi and then being robbed by their driver.

It was interesting to see how people reacted to the developments. Everyone I ran across in shops and on the streets were being very supportive of one another. As I contemplated being hunkered down in our apartment for an indefinite amount of time, I went into conservation mode with regard to food and water – though it wasn’t much of a problem as none of us had much of an appetite. I did go out and buy some staples like rice, flour, and sugar. Others around us tried to keep a sense of normalcy by suggesting potlucks and making cookies and cakes to share. When there were rumors of water cuts and food supplies being disrupted, I filled our bathtub and all the other containers I had with water. Stores in the neighborhood were being overrun and shelves were emptying.

By Monday we were hearing of US State Department organized voluntary evacuation flights and decided to go that route – going as a group to a waiting chartered flight seemed the safest way to proceed. With a heavy heart I decided what to take and what to leave behind, I packed four big suitcases with a selection of our warmest clothes, the negatives of the baby pictures, and a variety of other random objects plus a few bags of food – my recently made pumpkin muffins from the freezer, a loaf of bread and some peanut butter, fruit, and several bottles of water just in case we needed to wait overnight in the airport.

It was not a restful night as we waited to see what happened next.

The day this all started, Jan 25th, was an Egyptian National Holiday called Police Day. Most schools were closed that day, aside from my own children’s, and there was news that there would be a protest downtown that day. I wasn’t overly concerned – you hear about protests from time to time and they are usually fairly small and extremely well contained. In fact, my initial reaction was how bad could it be if they announced it ahead of time?

Life went on as normal for the next few days – I did errands, withdrew a chunk of cash from the ATM (which turned out to be a good thing since the ATM networks went down with the internet) and bought groceries (another good thing). I don’t as a rule tend to watch much news because I find it depressing and it usually drifts in by osmosis anyway. We heard there was due to be another big demonstration on Friday, after the prayer. Our neighborhood was almost ominously quiet – I’ve never heard it so silent before in fact. The very stillness was alarming. Still, we went about our business as well as we could with no internet and then suddenly no phone service.

Saturday morning, the garden of our building was buzzing with the neighbors going stir crazy in their houses. I went to talk and heard news of damage in a nearby neighborhood. When another neighbor said he was going out to see for himself, I went with him. It seemed exciting and I didn’t want to say later that I had spent my part of the revolution sitting in my house drinking wine and complaining about the internet while it all went on around me.

We took a 5 minute taxi ride to a mall on the outer edge of the expat section of our suburb and then got out and walked a few blocks. The first thing we saw was a burned out police truck:

While the street where I live and the surrounding blocks are primarily inhabited by expats, this area was suddenly and thoroughly local. The atmosphere was energized and excited. People were milling around taking pictures and talking. Several young men came up to me and said “Isn’t it beautiful?”

There were young men everywhere, talking. As I was taking pictures, people in cars passed by and talked to me. One man asked if he could get copies, another older man apologized to me. He owed me no apologies and yet it seems a strangely prophetic thing now.

Not sure if this child was salvaging scrap or trying for a souvenir, but bits of the truck still appeared to be smoldering and the mother in me wanted to shoo him away.

This burned up motorcycle just across the boulevard from the truck. I haven’t often seen police on motorcyles but it did seem to me that the damage was very targeted to government and police targets specifically (at least at this point)

We walked a few blocks down and encountered three military vehicles – the first I saw on the neighborhood streets but not the last.

At one point a soldier on duty wagged his finger at me not to take pictures so I stopped. I think I was the only one to listen to him. I did notice later, when I looked at my pictures, many of the soldiers disappeared from pictures when I came closer to where they were on duty. Not sure if they thought perhaps I was a journalist and did not want to be identified? They seemed not to be so worried about the locals snapping pictures with their phones.

Notice the soldier on top of the tank. He fades away when I come closer.

My proof that I was there. It seems foolhardy in retrospect but at the time it seemed like the thing to do. I wasn’t the only one out there posing. People were taking pictures everywhere – even of me taking pictures of them.

I think it is important to stress that in spite of these fairly startling images, I never felt unsafe while I was walking around. It felt a bit like a party, though there was a slightly nervous energy about it. We were invited to sit and have tea at a cafe but declined because it felt like it was time to go.

As we were walking back the way we came, a protest march suddenly gathered and stopped traffic. I was intensely grateful that we had already crossed the street and were not caught in the thick of the crowd on the other side nearer the tanks.

It is hard to see in this picture but there must have been at least a hundred young men, if not more. I did not stay to see the end of the line so it it hard to say. One older man tapped my shoulder and (in Arabic) told me to leave. I agreed with him. Though the march was orderly and focused, I had seen enough and did not want to get caught up in any trouble.

Our taxi was not where we had asked him to meet us so we walked back a few blocks, just to clear the area. All along the road, and particularly behind the entrance to the mall, there were more young men stationed with bats and iron bars. I can only assume they were there, ready to defend their shops from looters. We took our taxi home and that was the last time I left the immediate area of my home until we went to the airport.

At the time I took these pictures, I still felt that this was an interesting and exciting situation, though with some potentially serious repercussions. My husband was making noises about my leaving with the children and I was resistant. I didn’t want to upset our routine for no good reason if things would blow over even having seen these signs of upheaval so close to home. Denial anyone?

I think that this was the last day I ate a decent meal or slept much at all.