Marathon Update

Sorry for my lack of updates…as my dad put it, they paid for an awesome six-month vacation in Cairo and someone went and messed it up with homework! So we’ll have a marathon update.

Coptic Cairo: The Copts are a Christian Orthodox sect. The apostle Mark traditionally established the official Coptic Church of Alexandria (to which something like 95% of Egypt’s Copts belong) in the early first century CE. They have their own pope. There is a region of Cairo, aptly named Coptic Cairo, where most of the old churches are, etc.

Last Saturday, a few of us hopped a cab and headed down to see what we could see. Driving there was a bit of an experience. We drove through one of the poorer areas of Cairo; people going about daily lives that certainly don’t resemble mine much. One thing about Coptic Cairo itself, though: it’s far enough from the pollution of Central Cairo (where I spend my days) that everything feels brighter and fresher. The air is so much better.

Getting there, we walked a bit until we saw the first sign that looked like something Coptic (i.e., something Christian). It was a neon sign depicting the Madonna and Child, with a sign next to it “THE CRYPT OF THE HOLY FAMILY UNDER SAINT SERGIUS CHURCH, WHERE THE HOLY FAMILY LIVES FOR SOME TIMES AND THE CHURCH OF SAINT BARBARA.” So we start walking down a small alleyway, lined with little outdoor shops and people selling all kinds of fun religious material. We walk along until we smack into a German tour group who looks lost and is blocking our way, so we turn back around. On the way in, we passed a small garden with a picture over the door of Saint George. We head back there, and head into the garden. Apparently, this is the Convent of St. George, and apparently Copts do St. George in a big way. He’s called “Mar Girgis” here, and is so popular that the main street is call “Mar Girgis Street” and the Metro stop for Coptic Cairo is “Mar Girgis” Station. Interestingly, there’s a reason. We associate St George (well, at least I do) with England, since they’ve kind of co-opted him. But he was historically Palestinian. Need I say more? So we walk from the garden down into a hallway and chapel. To the right is a huge banner that seems to depict Heaven, full of martyrs. Some are drawings of martyrs, some are photographs, and some seem to be photographs of mummies. To the left is a mosaic of Jesus at the well talking to the Samaritan woman (when he talks about giving living water), and underneath of it two small taps with a few cups. With great hesitation I pass on the holy water. Maybe next time.

Inside the main hall are several mosaics and pictures, each decorated with ribbons and flowers. It’s a bit like putting a bouquet at the feet of a statue of Mary in a Catholic Church, but a little more intense. Awesome mosaics, though. The main hall has a huge ceiling and only a few windows at the top. In the back of the hall, we could see a richly adorned (talking lots of gold and teak and very nice-looking fabrics) chapel, but people were praying in there and we felt a little awkward, so we didn’t “tourist” in there.

In the garden outside there was a gazebo with wire sides, and doves inside. I hope they were for releasing at Easter….

Our next stop is the Monastery and Church of St. George (see? I told you he was kind of a big deal here). It’s a Greek Orthodox Church and monastery, so everything is in Greek (at the Convent it was in Arabic). I’d never been in a Greek Orthodox Church before, but it was beautiful. The architecture from the outside seemed to almost resemble a mosque. Whether that’s normal or a smart architect decided not to make every possible wave, I’m not sure. Outside are the church bells. We briefly consider playing a gigantic game of “Ding-Dong Ditch,” but remember that we’re 20. We walk in, and I’m honestly amazed by how opulent it was. Gold everywhere, in the icons of saints, etc they had gold leaf and real jewels. But at the same time, the richness seems to have a purpose. It makes the place feel serious—like it’s somewhere to pray, not somewhere to be loud. There aren’t many lights on, so you can see the stained glass windows perfectly. Simple, but bright and clear. At the entrance, there is a place where you can light a candle. So I do, and right after me two women come in and light their own. Apparently you light the candle and make the Sign of the Cross with it three times in the air before putting it into the sand. Oops.

The Monastery of St George was interesting, we can’t go into the monastery itself but there’s a garden. In the garden are little tiny chapels: you go in, down two steps or so, and there are images of books. If I read Greek I’m sure it would have meant more. But the chapels are each different and very beautiful. Simple, but beautiful. Then we get kicked out of the garden, so we trek on to the next place. One interesting thing was that while we were in the garden, we started hearing not one but three mosques calling prayer. I wonder what the monks think of that.

We wanted to go to the Coptic Museum, but it was closing in a few minutes, so we pass. Flanking the Coptic Museum are two Roman towers. Built around 98 CE, they seem to have stuck around reasonably well.

Next is Kineesat al-Muallaqa, the Hanging Church. It’s called “hanging” because it was built on top of the Water Gate in Roman times. (No, I’m not sure how those two are connected, but I’ll believe Lonely Planet.) It’s a church dedicated to the Virgin Mary from the 9^th (some claim 7^th) century. The outside of the church itself (two bell towers, sharp angles) makes it look like churches at home. The façade, apparently, is from the 19^th century. (So much for thinking the Copts were groundbreakers…) First is an outdoor courtyard with tons of mosaics. All beautiful. The doors into the church itself are mother of pearl and wood. One thing I’ve noticed here: people put a lot of time and effort into churches. I guess it’s because there are very few, but people really seem to put a lot of time and effort and money in. Inside the church are many relics (at which point my camera goes out of battery). The Orthodox faiths seem to do relics more than the Western Church does. One of the neatest things was the pulpit. It was in the middle of the church, with 13 marble pillars supporting it. There’s one in the front, and then six sets of two behind. Guess what that symbolizes…here’s a hint: the black pillar is apparently Judas.

Exploring a bit (i.e., being where we shouldn’t) we make it to the top of the church and can look out over Coptic Cairo. Of course now my camera is dead. But it was beautiful: quiet and peaceful.

Exiting the Church you pass a lot of gift shops near the front (actually IN the church). And they sell some interesting things. My favorite was keychains of your favorite Coptic Pope, until Josh pointed out the AIR FRESHENERS of your favorite Coptic Pope. At least one of those will be making its way back to the States.

We walk down a bit more and find a sign in French pointing to a Maronite Catholic Cemetery. So we head down and in. Most burials here are above ground in family vaults/chapels. At least, most of the burials in this cemetery. It was still active, since we saw headstones from 2006. Some of the chapels were gorgeous. It was completely silent. Absolutely silent. We stumbled across a panel in the ground someone had opened—exposing old crypts. There were definitely bones. Around the back edges, there were high stone walls of cubbyholes, each with a marble slab in front. Those, as Josh aptly put it, are the “cheap seats” for Heaven. Occupancy: one. My favorite part was a gorgeous chapel on the edge. It had been recently redone and was covered in mosaic. Since it was at the edge, however, it was about 100 feet from the next building outside the cemetery: a mosque. On the minaret, facing into the cemetery, was a sign reading in Arabic the shahada—the profession of faith that if said three times in the presence of three witnesses, makes you a Muslim. It says “There is no God but God, and Muhammad is his prophet.” Even in death….

That about ended our Coptic Cairo adventure, but I’ll be back.

Giza: The next night, after Mass, I took a cab down to Giza (where the pyramids are) to meet up with Denny and Rita, two friends from Youth Ministry at home who were visiting Egypt. I got a free buffet dinner at their hotel (who’s gonna complain?), and everyone in their tour group kept asking questions about Cairo, life in Egypt, Islam, etc. I felt knowledgeable (but thankfully the questions were pretty simple).

After dinner we were hanging out in the lobby, where it looked to be decorated for a wedding. People kept pouring in the door. The men looked okay, but the women looked amazing. What my dad would call your “Sunday Hijab” or your “Sunday Abaya.” It was, honestly, like watching a room full of beautiful tropical birds. What was also interesting was watching the generations. Mothers in full abayas, hijab, gloves, and niqab (the one that covers the face with a slit for the eyes) accompanied by their daughters in dresses that I could probably find in the US, with a matching scarf simply tossed over their heads. The bride entered in a beautiful white, wedding gown. It looked much like a dress you’d see at home, complete with wedding veil—no hijab. We waited a bit until everyone started coming back down (about 20 minutes). Then the bride comes back—now in a GOLD dress with a new gold veil (she looked quite a bit like Belle from Beauty and the Beast). She’s on the arm of a much older man as they walk down the staircase. I’m a little sad, but silently wish her the best. He looks old enough to be her father. They get to the bottom of the stairs (there’s men everywhere drumming and –of all things—a bagpiper), and stop. There, a much younger man comes forward, kisses the older man on both cheeks, and takes his place at the bride’s side. Oh…that was her father. Now the fun starts. All of the unmarried folks are in a circle around the bride and groom singing and dancing and shouting. Then the men dance around the bride and groom, then around just the groom, then around just the bride. Then the groom dances with his buddies. The married folks and small children are watching from upstairs. (With the exception of a few boys who insist upon zooming up and down the stairs at every possible interval. Kids are kids everywhere.) All through this, there is a many with a HUGE video camera (looks like a TV camera, with bright lights, microphone, long cord), taping it all. There’s two people assigned to help the camera guy. Serious business! Then they all head back upstairs.

It was certainly a cultural experience, but really fun.

Ballet: Having never been to a ballet at home, but having been to several concerts (of the classical variety…excellent but not quite as fun as Cowboy Mouth) and an opera, I was intrigued to see that Cairo’s Opera House (located in the Cairo Cultural Center) is about a 10 minute drive from the dorm, and on the island. It’s also deathly cheap. Nosebleed seats in the Main Hall (which is built so steeply that you can still see everything perfectly) for students were LE 15…a little less than USD $3.

So we went to see the “1001 Nights” Ballet last night. There were 14 of us (quite a crowd—interestingly enough equal genders), so we all got dressed up and headed out. I did, in fact, wear a skirt. Another girl I was with wore a dress, and we were the only shins showing in the entire audience. Ah well, it felt good to dress up and not be so completely covered. (And heck, they say I have nice legs, why hide ‘em!)

The Ballet itself starts on Cairo time. “Doors close at 8pm sharp and the ballet begins immediately” actually means “The ballet starts around 8:30 and the doors close around 8:40.” Okay, no problem.

Having never been, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but it was wonderful. The music was by an Azerbaijani composer, and several of the art/technical folks were also Azerbaijani. About 60% of the soloists were Russian, with the other 40% Egyptian. A multicultural production, indeed! The music was fantastic, though. I don’t know enough to say if the dancers were actually any good (Aladdin did completely eat it during a solo. That was quite a thump.), but I certainly enjoyed it. The one thing you must do with a ballet is read the synopsis very carefully, or you’ll have no idea what’s going on. Act I made reasonable sense, Act II was much clearer. The one thing was at the end everyone kept bowing. It seemed to be “okay, you bow with him and now the three of you and then next you and the other two guys from that group.” It was mostly the principals, so maybe some Prima Donna-ism going on? Who knows. It was fun.

The Opera House itself is absolutely gorgeous. We’ll be going back.