Egypt Protests - When the Tourists Left

 We arrived in Hurghada yesterday, Khalid and me. We left Cairo as hundereds of thousands of protesters once again gathered in Tahrir Square. It felt like I was betraying them, the people, like I should be there to show my support or to just report from the spot. But it was time to go. Regardless of what the authorities say, it's not 100% safe to walk in the streets of Cairo as a foreginer. Towards the end of my Cairo stay, I found myself on edge, constantly worried about talking to the wrong person, of someone with distorted mind seeing me taking a photo, of my phone or internet activity to be monitored. Sooner or later, a revolution demands a prize and no matter how sad it made me I felt that I really should leave the capital. So on the bus we went and six hours later we were in Hurghada, empty of the tourists that had nourished the city so far.

Last night I was twitching in shivers and fever and when I woke up I was greeted with a SMS from the Ministry of Interior through Etisalat saying:

From today our dealings with you will be with honesty, trust and lawfulness.

I wonder if words will be enough to satisfy the mourning souls of those who lost their children, sisters, brothers and loved ones through the police brutality. I doubt it. It's too late for their redemption and I think that the only thing that will ever make their deaths worthwile is for Mubarak to step down. And if he continue to insists that he has to stay (for the sake of keeping the stability?) until the election in September, I really hope that the military will show some backbone and follow the will of the people.

Meanwhile, in Hurghada, the protests have been mainly absent but the result of the ongoing demonstrations elsewhere are affecting this city more than it does in Cairo or Alexandria. Hurghada is depending on the tourists. The majority of the restaurants, shops and businesses here are focusing on tourism, and without them there simply won't be any more money coming in. Shop owners close their businesses and put signs in the display window either saying that they'll stay closed until the tourists come back, or urging the foreigners that are still here to stay, saying that Egypt is safe. Who knows what will happen to places like Hurghada and Sharm al-Sheikh if the tourists won't start to come back soon.

As a side note; did you know that the president of the Egyptian Red Crescent is her excellency Mrs. Mubarak, i.e. Hosni Mubarak's wife? Apparently the ICRC have been hindered to help out the protesters in Tahrir but now it says in a report on the ERC webpage that there are first aid activities in Tahrir. I haven't seen them there for two weeks but if it's true that they now have access to the square, then that's all good.

Cairo Protests - Monday 7th

 

Witnessing a revolution from the front stalls has a prize, I've realized that now. I've been so swallowed up by all these dramatic events that I basically forgot that I'm more than a witness. I've seen people been beaten, mobs attacking, blood, tanks, injustice and mourning. I've felt the tear gas burn in my eyes and throat. I've been laying awake at night listening to guns being fired, explosions, helicopters and fighter jets. I've spoken to people that lost a loved one, a mother who's 22 year old daughter's head exploded by a bullet. I've ran away from violent clashes and shootings, been questioned and frightened. There are so many impressions in my head and I haven't had the slightest chance to even start to process them. They're piling up on me, lays heavy on my shoulders and it's time to be selfish and take a break from all of it, if only to gather my strengths to come back with renewed energy.

I wanted to go to Tahrir Square one last time. The atmosphere was calm, almost tranquil, but sadness and mourning was hovering above the people. The faces of the people that lost their lives there in these past two weeks were printed on banners and placards. The mother of the young woman who died last Friday was trying to get her message through on stage, but it was difficult through her tears. I wanted to hug her; tell her that her daughter didn't die for nothing. But the outcome of the violent protests are still in the hands of a force majeur. Although the protesters show no sign of retreating from their own little city state called Tahrir, this can end in a multiple different ways. 

Outside of the square, people are doing their best to get back to the every day life in Cairo. Shops and business re-open and smashed windows are being replaced while looted shops are still gaping empty. My heart is heavy with the thought of leaving the courageous souls in Tahrir behind, but I've realized that there isn't much more that I can do for the time being. I can continue to report, but I too need to get my life back. I'm way behind in my studies and I really hope it won't be too late to catch up. Maybe with a little peace in my mind I can get back on track, get my strenghts back and return to Cairo if I'm needed. I still haven't heard from the Egyptian Red Crescent. It doesn't seem like they will have a first aid group with access to Tahrir, but if there will be one, I'll be back on the first bus available.

We're going to the ghost town of Hurghada; once a thriving tourist city, now eerily empty as all tourists have been flown out. All except me that is.

Cairo Protests - 8 PM Friday 4th

I can't even begin to express my frustration right now. We tried a different road leading to Tahrir Square a couple of hours ago, this one controlled by pro-democracy protesters. I explained that I was a first aid/CPR instructor for the Swedish Red Cross and that I would like to offer my assistance to the field medics in the square. I was warmly welcomed by the civilians and had two "bodyguards" escorting me through 7-8 security checks where I had to show my passport, get body searched and explain what I was doing there.

Finally we arrived in the heart of chaos, where darkness had settled over Tahrir and tens of thousands of protesters had gathered to let president Mubarak know that his time is over. A make shift hospital was put up next to two military tanks. A couple of doctors and nurses was stationed there, taking care of the wounded. The doctor I spoke to explained that they're deeply sorry that they can't accept my assistance, simply because I'm a foreigner. From the bottom of their hearts they apologized for the situation and said that they would more than gladly use my skills, but that it would be too risky. Some are apparently accusing the international community for much of the violence happening in the streets. They claim that it's the international media's fault, and therefore it would be too dangerous for me to help out. That I'm with the non-governmental, non-political organisation Red Cross doesn't matter. They explained that the government doesn't care who I'm with. It would be too risky.

I'm so sad and upset right now. When I got there, there weren't that many wounded in the sick bay, but I'm sure there will be a lot more as time passes by this Friday night. It feels so wrong to not be able to help when I'm qualified for it. I'm trained for this. I didn't come there to express my discontent with the government or give my opinion about anything that has to do with politics. I didn't go there to take sides. All I wanted was to treat the wounded as best as I could. All I could do today was to give the medics the few first aid supplies I had in my bag; some cotton, bandages, dressings and antibiotic cream.

I dearly hope that the ICRC will be allowed into Tahrir tomorrow if the protests continue, which I have a feeling they will. I also hope that I'll be able to join them as a first aider. Let's hope that the brave medics won't be overburdened tonight and that the few medical supplies will be enough to treat the injured.

Cairo Protests - 5 PM Friday 4th

11th day of protests: Out in the streets people are catching up on the latest events, exchanging war stories. I made a couple of attempts to enter the Tahrir area, but was impossible. My hopes was to find one of the make shift hospitals and offer my assistance. When I'm not studying I'm working as a First Aid/CPR instructor for the Swedish Red Cross. It's more than frustrating to not be able to help when I'm qualified for it. The ICRC and ERC have been stopped from entering Tahrir and medical supplies and other essentials like food and water are being confiscated by Mubarak supporters. Some streets are completely controlled by either pro-Mubarak or pro-democracy protesters; a picture resembling that of a country in civil war. The destruction of central Cairo is massive.

Dark clouds are moving in on the city, like a bad omen predicting more chaos to come. Cairo today is like a rubber band stretched to a maximum, ready to snap at any moment. The pro-democracy protesters are calling this day "Departure Day", hinting at the deadline for Mubarak to step down. Exactily what that means is still unclear. Some are talking about marching towards the presidential palace, others are talking about the violent erruption of the human volcano in Tahrir Square.

The military is to some degree stopping pro-Mubarak protesters to enter the square, but it's more than likely that many of them have managed to get past the security check points.

I see people with crutches, plasters and bandages everywhere to show the extent of the violence used from all sides during these past 11 days of protests. In my bag I have a basic first aid kit, just in case.

Who Chooses to be a Refugee?

Father and daughter resting in Khartoum North, Sudan.

Got an email from the Red Cross today, asking if I would be interested in a voluntary mission with refugees here in Sweden. The email went out to everyone who had taken the basic courses in psychological first aid and support. How I want to! There's a refugee office in Borås, not 35 km from here, that every day gets visits from people in unimaginable situations. To even think of the histories they're carrying make me dizzy. They've been running away from wars, abuse, murder, rapes, famine, diseases and a ton of other horrors that a lucky Swede can't even begin to try to understand. And they come here, to a country with all the resources to help them, just to be met with suspiciosness and a general lack of comprehension. They're seen as burdens, even as threats, as "those refugees". As if they were all one living organism with the sole purpose of sucking the life out of our beloved country.

What foolishness drives those people who just don't want to understand that no one, not a single person on this planet, chooses to be a refugee. Who chooses to leave her birth country, family, job, schoo, friends, language, religion, everything she knows in life - just to come to a country that despises her presence? Who chooses hostility in a rich country instead of understanding in her home country? I know I wouldn't. 

I'm aware of how lucky I am to be born in Sweden. And it really is just luck. I could have just as easily been born in Indonesia, Congo or Guatemala. Maybe I would have grown up in a mud cottage in the country side, walking many miles every day just to get some drinking water. Maybe I would have seen my family get killed by the militia, maybe my mother would have been raped by bandits. Maybe my children would have been taken from me to be trained as child soldiers - who's first mission would be to rape and kill me. Maybe my brother would die in AIDS, or my sister in child birth. Maybe my whole village would be burned to the ground, or maybe I would be stoned to death because someone spread a rumour that I had been unfaithful to my husband. 

Maybe, that time in Sudan, the rebels would have refused to negotiate with the UN and my two kidnapped friends would never return alive. It's all about luck - of having it or of not having it. So far I've been lucky, and I will consider myself to be lucky until the day when I have something real to complain about.