Super Moderator
Location: essex ma
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thought it might be interesting to post this (and maybe others)...a very dear friend of mine and excellent writer is living in cairo. she's started documenting her experience of the protests and posting it as notes on facebook. here's one.
Quote:
This evening in downtown Cairo (27-1-11)
by Amira Hanafi on Wednesday, January 26, 2011 at 5:24pm
I went downtown this afternoon to visit a friend who lives off Sheikh Rihan Street in downtown Cairo, where the Ministry of the Interior is located. I got dropped off at the head of the street since it was closed to traffic. At every block there was a police barrier, where riot police decked out in black with black batons and black helmets leisurely leaned against the black and white fences, chatting. They were at every intersection, looking a bit bored. When I reached the block where the Ministry is located, a man approached me, asking "What is your name?" (in English). "Amira," I replied, and his face switched a little, and his language switched, to Arabic..."Are you Egyptian?" "American," I said, and he asked to look in my bag, so I showed it to him, and I passed down the block. A black car exited through the gates of the Ministry and drove slowly towards Midan Feleki.
We ate pasta, tuna fish, tomatoes, homegrown onions, oranges and raisins, and my friend told me about yesterday's protest. He said that where he started, there were about 7 people. Then they were 200. Then they walked and joined a couple thousand in Midan Tahrir. Then, every half hour, another couple of thousand showed up, until the square was full. He breathed tear gas and coughed for one hour. He grabbed a baton from an officer's arm as he was beating a man, and threatened him. The officer was scared. He went home to take a nap. He went back out again later.
We went out, too, to survey downtown. We walked toward Midan Feleki, noting the heavy traffic and the crowds on the street. Normal crowds--people waiting to cross, people buying and eating and walking. The riot police were everywhere, standing around. One commented to another on my hand-rolled cigarette and they laughed. "Where are you from?" someone called to us. A normal downtown Cairo evening. We stopped into Horreya where I asked some friends if they knew about any apartments. We went to sit in a coffeeshop and talked to some writers.
After a couple of hours drinking tea, a woman came by and sat near us. She had been beaten by the police and was holding her hand against her cheek - she seemed in pain. They had taken her mobile phone. Then we heard sirens. On a parallel street, some people were being chased by police. We left the coffeeshop. We went towards Midan Tahrir. On a bus, a man was being beaten by a police officer. We turned away and my friend said, "Just walk normally." We walked towards a sea of riot police, who started to charge down the street, shouting and waving their batons. "Just keep walking," my friend said. They stormed past us. As we reached the intersection just before the Midan, we saw a line of riot police, perhaps three persons deep, holding up their plastic shields. We stood on the corner for a few moments, contemplating the blockade. I didn't take out my camera from inside my jacket. We turned the corner and walked back toward Midan Feleki.
We stopped in a snack shop and I bought Chinese crackers. On the TV, there was a screaming crowd and more riot police. We walked further and stopped to drink juice. Images of yesterday's protest held the attention of the people in the shop. I got on the Metro at Mohamed Naguib and came home.
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a gramophone its corrugated trumpet silver handle
spinning dog. such faithfulness it hear
it make you sick.
-kamau brathwaite
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