Egyptian Elections 2011

     Today was the first day of voting for Egypt's Lower House of Parliament (Magles El Shaab مجلس الشعب) or The People's Assembly. As with almost everything political in Egypt this year, it was new and different. For a start, there were new names to vote for! Gone were the names of those who had dominated the parliament (and country) for decades and they were replaced by countless others. With all these new faces came new symbols (due to the low literacy rate in Egypt, each candidate and party is given a symbol so that illiterate voters know who to choose). I remember the only signs I would see around my neighbourhood were the camel and the crescent, both used by the National Democratic *snort* Party candidates. This time there was a veritable cornucopia of candidates to choose from (130 on my ballot paper) and their symbols ranged from the bizarre to the ridiculous (cookers, food mixer, tank, knife, shirt, carpet, chair, bouquet of flowers, gold ingot, water heater, bus, school bus, tram, train, basketball, basketball net and so on).

The main roundabout near my house becomes an election campaign hub

Some of the candidates' banners

There's a lovely fountain hidden behind all those banners

    Of course, this being Egypt, nothing is as simple as it first appears. Under former President Nasser an addition was made to the constitution stating that 50% of the Lower House should be composed of workers and farmers. A later amendment set the minimum % of women who must be MPs. This means that voting is not as straightforward as placing a check mark next to your preferred candidate's name. 

   

    Once in the polling station, you're given 2 papers; one to vote for the party and one for the individual candidates. Of the individual candidates you must choose 2, one of whom must be a worker. These individual candidates may be running as a member of a political party or as independents. Confused yet?

   My day began at 8:30 when I left home to head towards my polling station (polling stations were assigned according to your national ID number and so my parents and I were each at different stations despite sharing an address). I had no idea where the school serving as my polling station was, but I was lucky enough to meet up with 3 young ladies from my neighbourhood who were at the same one, and despite none of us knowing where we were going, we set off together. We found our school in a middle/working class area of Cairo called El-Zaitoun which is fairly conservative, it also has a large Coptic population which meant the queue was a mix of people voting for the Freedom and Justice Party (the political wing of the Muslim Brotherhood), a minority voting for the ultra-conservative Islamist El-Nour party and Christians who, like me, were voting for the more liberal or secular candidates.

   The queue was long, and seeing it was amazing as Egyptians are not famous for their patience or queue formation! It snaked around the block in a U shape and was twice as long when I left as it had been when I joined.

The queue in front of me. At this point we'd been in line for an hour and still had to turn the corner before we could even see the school gates.

Part of the queue (about halfway along) when I was leaving.

 We were all chatting, but none of us ever really discussed who we were voting for, we were just pleased that we were voting. There were a few people passing out flyers as we waited, despite this being against election rules which state that all campaigning had to have ceased 48 hours before the vote.  The actual voting only took a couple of minutes, as I knew exactly who I was voting for. So after a 3 hour wait, weeks of reading up on parties I made my 3 check marks, signed the register, dipped my thumb in the fluorescent ink and was done! I had voted for the first time!!

    Of course, none of this was imaginable a year ago and if people had not taken to the streets and squares in January, we would have "voted" for a new President next September only to have Gamal Mubarak win with 90% majority. There are  many who think this parliament will be a useless entity, there purely for show until the constitution has been reviewed and a President elected next year. They also say it may not even last beyond a couple of months. Whatever happens, for better or worse, Egyptians went to bed today feeling, for the first time, that they made a difference. So for that alone, I say, to everyone who protested, was injured and especially to those who gave their lives; "Thank You"

Here (Doesn't) Come The Bride

    *steps onto soapbox and clears throat*
   
     The other week I took my father to the hospital for his check-up. While there, we met my uncle who has a clinic in the same hospital. After the usual greetings and niceties, my uncle asked me what my brother was up to now and I proudly told him that he was off to London to do his Msc.at The London School of Economics in Human Rights. The next thing my uncle asks is whether or not I have any marriage plans in the near future "mafeesh 3rees wala eh?"

     Now I am well aware of how things are in Egypt, I grew up here after all. I know damn well that as soon as a girl hits puberty she is called '3roosa' or bride-this does NOT mean that Egyptians or Arabs in general condone child marriages, just that it is the beginning of what I see as brainwashing of young girls that they will grow up to be wives no matter what. 90% of the time this will come from a female relative and is always meant as a compliment. When I started university I remember an aunt telling me to make sure I didn't graduate without having "caught someone.". Well, I did catch someone, the wrong one as it turned out; but that's OK as far as I'm concerned because we didn't get married, there was no ugly divorce and no one got hurt but us.

    I don't feel I need to be married or in a relationship right now to feel 'successful' or 'complete', I wasn't raised that way. My parents' focus was always education, education, education not matrimony. So while there is a Tiffany&Co. ring that I think is gorgeous, I'm not bothered that I don't have one (and having seen the price tag, I'll probably never have one!). My point is this, I am more than just someone's future wife, I have a brain and I use it. I have opinions and I say them and I will argue to defend them. I don't want a 'protector and provider' I want a partner.

   I am not against marriage but it is not my sole goal in life I have other ambitions and I have no problems waiting for love, marriage and the baby carriage. I'm not rushing to meet men and when I do, I don't judge against a romantic ideal or a check-list (I tried writing one of those once, I struggled to get past 10 items).

   If I met the right man tomorrow and fell head over heels in love, then yes, I would want to marry him; not to feel like I've succeeded in some great game but because I would want to build a life with someone who will treat me as an equal.

*steps off soapbox*

What's in a name?

     The other week as I was booking my flight to the UK, I told the lady at the travel agents my name and then spelled it out for her. As we were waiting for the ticket and receipt to be printed she asked me whether my name was Nora or Noora as I had pronounced it Noora (I was speaking Arabic at the time) but spelled it Nora. This lead to me explaining that it's the way it's spelt on my birth certificate and it's easier for non-Arabic speakers to pronounce that way.

     I love the fact that my name sounds completely different, but still correct, depending on who's saying it. It's like I have two names that are both me; Nora has both Greek and English origins, the former means Light while the latter is honour. Noura (نورا)-of Arabic origin- is a derivative of Nour (which was my grandmother's name) which means light.


   So that's me, Nora, Noora, Noura, Norah, however you say it I'll answer!

To 'B' or to 'P'? That is the question!

  Well it is if you're an Arabic speaker learning English or a teacher tearing your hair out in despair at silly spelling mistakes.
   Despite the fact that the Arabic alphabet has 28 characters to the English alphabet's 26, there is no equivalent to the letter 'P' only 'B'. This has lead Egyptians to come up with a unique way of differentiating between the two to help with spelling, there's B khafifa ('light' B) and B tekila ('heavy' B).
   Now if you guessed that the 'light' B is 'P' and the 'heavy' B is B,well sorry you're wrong! For years I was convinced that was the right way round, because to me as a native English speaker it made more sense, and the I had to remember that it was the opposite of what made sense. The only reason I've managed to find so far for the naming is that P is light as its 'hump' is at the top, while the hump of the 'b' is at the bottom making it heavy.Get it?

 So tomorrow I'm off to change my Egybtian bounds into Pritish pounds and sign things with a plue ben!