Egypt Protests - How Love Conquers All

Broken arms and in a bad condition, but with good spirits.

There are plenty of revolutions described in the history book and I'll be the first to admit that I have little knowledge of the details surrounding most of them. What I do know however, is how the Egyptians in 18 days managed to end a 30+ year old dictatorship. It wasn't done through assassination or bombs, terrorism or unnecessary violence. No, the Egyptians did what the world thought was impossible. Through their unending love for their country and for eachother, they attracted millions of people from all social classes out in the streets. 

Few people have missed that the heart of the Egyptian revolution is in Tahrir (Liberation) Square. In this spot in central Cairo the people settled down, building shelters and created voluntary civilian work forces to keep the occupied Tahrir in order. Human chains were created to block the tanks from moving in to the square, schools and kindergardens were set up as well as makeshift hospitals and lost-and-found-stations. To enter the square you had to walk through several security checks; these too were run by civilians. Everyone got body searched and any sharp or other potentially dangerous objects were confiscated. After each check point, you were met with apologizes that they had to search you. I apologized too, for the people to be forced into this situation. The pro-democracy protesters were welcoming and protecting the few foreigners that had chosen to stay in the country (most of them journalists of course). A sign held up by a young man said "Tourists! Please don't leve, we'll protect you!" Women and men came to thank me for not leaving, saying that it was because of international media that they were somewhat safe from the authorities. The day after Mubarak resigned, the people returned to Tahrir. This time armed with brooms and plastic bags to clean up the square.

Of course an experience like this leaves you with tons of impressions that needs to be sorted and worked on. I learned so much that it's impossible to put it all into words, but one single thing changed me forever: the amazing solidarity that rose to the surface of all the Egyptians out in the streets is nothing less than a miracle. It's safe to say that no matter of all the horrible things that happened during the protests, it brought out the very very best in the people. Since the protests begun I haven't experienced any hassle and haven't heard of any sexual harrassement coming from the pro-democracy protesters. When the police and thugs started the attacks on the protesters, the people defended themselves, but they did it with a smile. I have no doubt what so ever that what kept the protesters going, through the violence and harsh conditions, is the humour and good spirits among them. Those that couldn't directly join the protests, kept the people up by songs and dancing. They may have been beaten and humiliated, even killed, but they never lost hope.

Whenever I think of the bread that was shared in Tahrir Square, of children sitting on their parents' shoulders chanting pro-democracy verses with smiles on their faces, of the human chains protecting the museum from looters and of the wounded getting plastered up with simple means, my eyes are filled with tears. And I really mean it, the incredible love and respect I've witnessed during these past few weeks truly makes me cry. It proves once and for all that the goodness of mankind beats the evil fews by far. Forget about guns and violence; with love in your heart you can accomplish anything.

Cairo: Chaotic Tranquility

7,8 million people in a jungle of concrete, smog, chaos and bustling city life and one of them had the courage, strength and love to bring me all the way from Sweden. I didn't leave my safe haven behind, not exactily, but rather took a break from it to pick up the pieces of my life that have been scattered around the world and at a later time return as a complete person. 

I'm in Cairo; a muddle of dusty streets, fabulous history, shouting people and tempting souqs. And I'm here with Khalid, the man who have seen me for who I truly am when no one else had faith in me. I consider myself to be the luckiest woman on earth right now and I have a strong feeling that I'll continue to feel that way. By chance, I was lucky enough to land in the country of pharaos and white sharks at the same time as his family whom I haven't seen since my days of glory in Sudan. From now on, they're my family too.

Cairo is fascinating, but far from the mystic legends and stories you associate Egypt with. Knowing that I would have enough time in the city, I have yet to experience the grandeur of the pyramids, the labyrinths of Islamic Cairo and the mosques. Instead I've gotten a taste of the everyday life of the Caironians. I can't imagine a furure in this city (or any other large city for that matter), but spending some time here is definitely a positive experience I'll cherish for a very long time. I prefer the personality of villages or small cities, and in a week or two we'll pack our bags, get on a night-bus and head for the Red Sea. I know I can spend a long time there without being bored or wishing to be elsewhere. But really, I'd rather be in chaotic Cairo with Khalid than in a paradise village by the sea without him.

Real Life Fairytales

Ingrid Bergman and Humphrey Bogart in "Casablanca

They're all around you; those stories that people frown upon because they seem too good to be true, which in most cases they turn out to be. But sometimes, rarely I agree, people really experience things with a happy ending and sometimes they actually do live happily ever after. I'd like to tell you a short story:

In the beginning of the 1900's, the Swedish countryside looked pretty much like they do in the movies. Out in the west, in a place covered in picturesque yellow fields, lush oak and birch forrests and glimmering streams and lakes a teenage girl named Helga was one day walking uphill with a friend when they passed a small red cottage with white corners and an open window. Through the window, a sweet violin melody streamed. Many years later, Helga explained that she fell in love in that moment.

The man with the violin was called Erik, and in not too long Helga and Erik became a couple. They soon got married and had two children - they lived in that same place in the countryside their whole lives. As the couple grew older, Helga became senile and lost her memory. One thing she did remember and loved was how Erik used to play the violin and sing to her, so until the end he used to sit next to her and play, and when his arms weren't as they used to anymore, he just sang. She remembered the lyrics and sang when she could, then just hummed.

They grew old together - very old. Both of them reached beyond 90 years old and until the end, they sat next to each other in the kitchen sofa, kissing each others cheeks, talking and holding hands. When Helga passed away, Erik sat in front of the chapel crying out loud: "My dear little Helga... My little Helga!" They had then been married for over 70 years.

Whenever I loose fait in love, I think about them; my great grandparents. Now, although my story is very different from theirs, I believe I'm the lead character in another fairytale. We met in a war ridden country in Sudan as a teacher and student, stayed together for a while but was torn apart by circumstances that none of us could influence. For three years, we nearly hated each other, couldn't even be in the same room. But then something happened. Our roads once again met, even though it was completely unlikely, and now that big puzzle is finally filled out with more and more pieces for each day that passes. It's not complete yet, and I doubt if it ever will be, but at least it starts to look like a picture now.

The fairytale is now taking me out of the country, to a place where language is used with passion and the sunset paints the sky with fire. I'm going to begin writing the second chapter of this story there, and where it will take us next, I don't know. What I do know, is that there is no turning back this time. It's already written in stone and for once in my life I feel completely at ease, even happy, to be powerless. To not being able to change the course of events this time is bliss, because I know it will take me to where I should have been all along.

A Modern Layla and Majnun - Part II

If you haven't already, read A Modern Layla and Majnun - Part I first. Now, let's continue the story...

On the return to Sweden, the woman went straight to looking for an apartment that they both could be happy in. The man was still in Sudan, but on a cold October night he stepped out of the airplane in Stockholm. A new chapter of their lives had just begun.

Shortly after their longed for reunion, the woman, who had suffered from depressions for many years, was again stricken with the dark cloud of angst. It became more and more difficult for her to see through it and eventually she ended up blind to the world's happiness. She was so blinded by her angst that she failed to see the slow fall of her beloved. The man was new to the country and the culture. He didn't understand a word of what was being said in the streets and his pride took a punch when he realized how difficult it would be to get a job in this cold country. 

The relationship was going down and neither the woman or man had the strength to save it. One cold evening, about a year after he first arrived to Sweden, he went to the bus station and left.

Three years went by. They met occationally and the atmosphere were always tensed. The tension sometimes escalated to hate. The man was upset with the way the woman lived her life, and the woman was upset because she thought that it no longer was his concern.

Then one day, the man decided to leave Sweden. Since he had developed a good relationship with the woman's family, he came to visit more frequently now that he knew that it might be a long time that he could see them again, if ever. The woman, who realized that the man was about to leave for good, slowly started to soften to his words. The days grew closer to the departure, and with that, the angst of again loosing him. He had, after all, always been close. She had known that she could see him more or less whenever she wanted to, but now, that was about to change.

The night before the departure, there was an explosion of emotions. The air in the room, where the man and woman was sitting, was literally static with electricity and so thick that you could cut it with a knife. Although they hardly even touched, just sat and looked at eachother and ocationally talked about nonsense, a long lost connection was rebuild. Their souls entwined, their hearts beat the same rythm and a blessing was laid upon them. It said: you will meet again.

To be continued at a later date...