Smile

Zamalek is not your typical spot in Egypt. There is Diwan (the Borders of Egypt), Drinkies (the ABC of Egypt), random joggers, and lots of trees. A lot of khawaga (non-Egyptians) walk around with their shorts and backpacks. On the outside it could be mistaken for pretty Americanized city.

When I get a couple hours break from school, I go there. A friend of mine showed me a quiet spot right on the Nile. You can go have lunch and a smoke before having to head back to class. It’s relaxing being away from the hustle and bustle of city life.

As is typical in Egypt, we were approached by beggars. They were children, but didn’t have that hardened look of Egyptian street kids. They asked for change and we said we had none. They were persistent, and stayed for a little, still begging. At one point I thought to myself, “I wish they would go away.” I really had no change and guilt was beginning to settle in. Finally my friend yelled at one of them. As the kid walked away away he turned around and snorted at my friend.

My friend chased after him, and left me with the other boy. I looked down and asked, in Arabic, what his name was. I figured if a smile is charity, then a good conversation must be worth something.

Their names are Abdel-Rahman and Seeka. They live in Agouza, a province not too far from Zamalek. They come to this bridge every day looking for whatever change they can find. At the end of the day they go home to their parents to divide up their earnings. Abdel-Rahman’s father is blind, and his mother works selling bread for a living. Seeka’s father died in prison and his mother works cleaning carpets, houses, and anything else you can imagine.

I know street kids aren’t a new thing in Egypt. Hell, Seeka and Abdel-Rahman have each other and at least one parent. I went back though a couple of weeks later, and I was really happy to see them. I think the most enthralling is these children are smiling. I keep hearing that in Egypt life is difficult and the woe is me stories. Even I’ve lost hope in the Egypt I once imagined. Life is hard here. It is for these kids. They're smiling.

Mind, Body, Soul....War

In the United States the feeling of Jew vs. Arab is voiced but not seen. Arab-Americans are concerned for the well-fair of their people, and they worry about the Palestinians. Demonstrations against government actions, and attempts by non-profits to show dissatisfaction with US foreign policy are commonplace. However, since it is America, and Israel gets the largest amount of international aid, there isn’t much said about human relationships. The concentration is political.

In Egypt it’s a different story. There are people alive today that were directly effected by the ’56,’67, and ‘73 wars against Israel. Families were in mourning over those lost in battle, and a country felt defeated even when they won. So, Anti-Semitism runs rampant. Yet the ties between Egypt and Israel have not been severed. Not by a long shot. Nadia Kamel, in her documentary Salata Baladi (Country Salad) shows just how strong this tie can be.

Kamel’s mother, Naila, is the daughter of a Christian mother and Jewish father. Naila converted to Islam after marrying a Muslim Egyptian, and has lived in Egypt ever since. So what kind of trouble could a little old grandmother create? Well when she decides she wants to visit her family in Israel, shit is bound to hit the fan. Both the Jewish and Muslim communities have been in uproar about the documentary. Both sides reject the idea that actual humans live across the border. As a result this award winning film is being attacked from all angles.

I wasn’t sure what I would think when I was told about the film. I like to think of myself as a humanitarian. I love everyone and don’t want to see anyone hurt. If you have family in Israel or anywhere else for that matter, you should go visit them. That is what Islam teaches me, that is what I want to believe. It was difficult though. Naila’s in-laws, when they learned she was to take the journey, showed sadness, confusion, and said “something died inside.” Although my reaction was not as intense, I felt the same way.

Naila takes the journey, and visits her family in Tel Aviv. Her cousin is happy and excited to see her. Tears of joy and shouts of enthusiasm fill the senses. Both women are excited to see the family they had given up hope on. Yet if you take a look around, at the rest of the Jewish family, animosity can be seen clearly in their faces. At one point, a woman in the background looked like she wanted to slam the camera into the camera-man’s face. It was then that I had an epiphany, kind of.

I hate the Israeli state just as much as any Arab and Muslim. For whatever reasons, some my own and some shared by the rest of the community, I do not want them there. Yet the film showed that bitterness against the state needs to be put aside for the moments when people come together. If we hate Jews and Jews hate us, there will be no peace. My religion tells me that we will never be in alliance. I believe it. My religion also tells me to treat everyone with respect, regardless of whether they are your enemies or not. This is what I, and my Arab and Muslim brethren, need to do.

Salata Baladi opened my eyes to my own prejudices. I’m not over them, but now I know they are there.