An Egyptian Jazz Fest

This week many Egyptians stood to witness a new invader that filled the historical citadel that overlooks the Islamic District of Cairo. Foreign and local jazz players filled the ancient grounds with the unique sounding style of music that most of the general audience that hadn’t heard before.

The organizer, famous Egyptian jazz percussionist and producer Yehia Khalil, shared his enthusiastic vision for the event: exposing a wide range of Egyptian audiences to his favorite art form, regardless of the costs.

The festival was appropriately named, “Jazz Mania, International Jazz Festival”. Acts ranged from the acclaimed French accordionist Richard Galliano, to local Egypt Jazz Bands, Cacoon and Sweet Sound Band, to a more alternative forms of Jazz with Ron Dziubla’s Jazz-Rock band.

With the help of Khalil’s radio and television programs “The World of Jazz” as well as through the work of his Foundation for the Culture of Jazz Music, Khalil aspired to popularize jazz and educate audiences of the region. This is precisely why he insisted that no fee be charged to attend Jazz Mania.

“This was my main request from the beginning,” said Khalil, “we got the embassies to bring everybody, and the opera provided us with the stage and the equipment, and any other expenses I pay out of my pocket. I didn’t want to talk about the money from the beginning.”

It wasn’t clear whether the large audience came out because the concert was free or because they wanted to listen to Jazz, but by the end of the night it became clear that the audience had a new appreciate of Jazz. Egyptian women in traditional Hijabs (the head scarf that women cover themselves with) were tapping there feet and shrugging their shoulders to the beat. At some points over the three day festival people even began to dance throughout the crowd.

Rena was one of those young Egyptians in the crowd who began to find body slowly moving to the music around her. She swore that she never listened to the music before and came out with a European friend who really admires Jazz.

“I have a new appreciation for this music. Before I never thought I would care to listen to it, but I found out tonight I really enjoy it” she said.

While throughout the crowd there were a large number of international viewers, the primary audience consisted of Egyptians. The festival was intended to cater towards Egyptians as well. Whenever Khalil walk on stage to introduce a band or thank them for their performance he spoke in Arabic with few English translation.

While it was obvious that the audience appreciated the festival, the bands also expressed their gratitude for the chance to play. Ron Dziubla thank Khalil before he began his last song saying, “While this is my third time playing in Egypt I always feel very grateful to play in such a beautiful place for such amazing people.”

The festival’s three day span allowed hundreds of people to enjoy a type of music that is completely foreign to the Middle East. For many of the audience members, they will wait in anticipation for next’s years Jazz Mania line-up and performances.

Ramadan

Throughout Cairo, during August and the beginning of September, it is not unusual to pass closed restaurants with many tables and chairs sitting out front. People may sit at the tables, but they have no food or no water. I quickly learned that the poor citizens of Cairo were partaking in one of the harshest holidays in Islam, Ramadan. For everyone who participates you can not eat or even drink anything all day long until the last prayer of the day has begun. After the prayer has begun, millions of hungry people inhale whatever food is placed before them.

For many Christian Westerners, it is impossible for us to imagine fasting all day for an entire month. In addition, it is even harder to imagine entire cities closing the majority of their restaurants to respect this holy month. This is the reality of Ramadan in non-secular Muslim nations.

The most similar day that, as Christians, we can relate to is lent. For many Americans we give up medial items such as television and video games, how strong of us, but giving up TV and movies, as I have done in the past, just doesn't quite compare. It is as if we are comparing checkers to chess, both have a similar similar structures, but they just don't compare as games. Ramadan is a twisted holy month that makes everyone in the area suffer. Lent has become a minor inconvenience for American Christians those that choose to participate.

Everyone I interact with all day long is constantly suffering. The children no longer skip and play in the streets during the day, instead the drag there feet where ever they go and when they can they stay inside and sleep.

It wasn't unusual around mid-afternoon, during Ramadan, to pass a group of guards on the American University in Cairo campus slouched in their chairs trying not to fall asleep. They look both tired and unhappy. A few hours later I would pass those same guards after nightfall and they would be cheerful, chatty and every guard fashioned the largest smile you can imagine on a wornout Arab man.

I witnessed one man walking with his food in his hands thanking God and everyone around him because he could finally eat. Ramadan is harsh and cruel. It was designed that way, because once it is over the experience becomes the greatest gift.

One day while I was walking around town I began to ask a shop keeper about what he thought about Ramadan. He said simply, "fasting for this long allows me to enjoy food again. Each night I become thankful that I can eat."

A hotel manager in the small costal town of Dahab on the Sinai put his agony into words perfectly. He spoke as he casually drank a cup of coffee dangled a cigarette in between his lips, "all day long I've wanted a cup of coffee and a cigarette, but I couldn't until it was dark. Now that Ramadan is over I can enjoy my two favorite past times all day long!"

The dramatic change that overcomes everyone was epic. Those grouchy old men that you thought simply hated you because you are you became the most talkative and loving man once the sun set and they could eat.

As my unintentional daily fast would come to a close I started to understand this shopkeepers words. Food was no longer a routine. I ate because I was hungry, not because it was time too. I began to understand that so often I go to eat lunch simply because there is a societal understanding that at 12pm I should eat. Ramadan disobeys this understanding, and those participating (intentionally or unintentionally) begin to understand what it feels like to be hungry, not just obeying a set routine.

I must be honest, I am not sad that Ramadan is over. It is a wonderful feeling to eat at any time of the day, but I want to maintain the feeling of choosing to eat when I am hungry. As Americans we don't really understand what this feeling is like. With food available nearly everywhere we look there are few times we find it hard to eat.

Currently, a large portion of our World's population spends much of the day hungry. It was a unknown feeling to me before I landed in Cairo, but I can honestly say I know what it is like to feel hunger and I am thankful to have felt it.

While I don't plan to fast anytime soon, I know I will eventually want to. It is a strange feeling to appreciate hunger, but I have found that I want to intentionally fast. Until then, I will consciously enjoy my meals, and give thanks for having them.

Pictures

This is a panoramic of the city. It is one of the largest cities I have ever seen and lived in.

My nobel steed. I do not know his name, but I he was extremely uncomfortable to ride. We began our journey in Giza with no real aim to ride a camel through the desert, but after huge price reductions and a beginning sunset, we took the opportunity.

Here they are. Awesome

Traveling through Cairo can be quite scary and thrilling at the same time. Taxis will weave in and out of traffic. With few traffic violations to give and even fewer traffic signals and traffic enforcement these streets are by far the most dangerous place in the country.

Landed

I had finally landed. From above in the plane the streets looked crowded and dirty, and my perspective didn't change once I began traveling from the airport by bus.

The first thought for anyone who has just been dropped out of the sky, like myself, into Cairo would be that this city has just been through a major war. Rubble piles up next to the major highways and on the surrounding parks. Weaving through this backdrop of decay is the chaos of unregulated traffic that creates six lanes out of a six lane highways. Drivers honk their horns as they run through red lights, weave around pedestrians, and cut off each other on these tiny roads. As I hastily buckle my seat belt and hold on to any part of the car that would hold me incase of an accident, I begin to smell fresh baked bread and cooked meat and cheeses that emerge from the smog of the city.

The vast market place has begun cooking a meal for millions of hungry Muslims who have fasted all day and in a few short minutes they will feed upon whatever Cairo's marketplaces have to offer. I begin to see familiar scenes of men sitting on street corners drinking tea and smoking hookah's. Children playing soccer on the sidewalk. Fully cloaked women walking in the humid 100 degree weather. Yes, I feel at home again.

It has been two years since I have lived in the middle east, but this time will be much different from when I lived in Bethlehem, Palestine. As a student in the one of the largest Arab cities in the world I hope to gain a better perspective about this city and Arab culture as a whole. Cairo houses a population of 18 million people in 2008. That is more than twice the size of New York city in the same year. Cairo is massive, and it is facing both physical and societal changes everyday. In November Egypt will begin the presidential elections. President Mubarak, who has ruled unopposed for nearly 29 years, is rumored to be stepping down. Apart from the societal changes Cairo has begun an astounding physical changes, a suburb called New Cairo.

While driving from the airport to my dorm in a district of Cairo called Zamalek, it isn’t hard to see that the rich a higher middle class are escaping the busy and dirty city. What was formally desert will soon become magnificently built three story luxury condos that will span for miles upon miles. The gap between rich and poor couldn’t be more clear and now there will be a physical separation between the two.

I hope you will enjoy reading my column about my experiences and the news of the surrounding region.