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Al-Ahram Weekly 8 - 14 April 1999 Issue No. 424 
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Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875 |
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Al-Ahram Weekly 8 - 14 April 1999 Issue No. 424
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| Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875 |
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Egypt Region International Economy Opinion Culture Focus Profile Features Travel Living Sports People Time Out Chronicles Cartoons Letters Alice in Wonderland
by Paul GarwoodMost 18-year-old women from England who I know will be doing especially English things at the moment: clubbing, wearing the latest fashions (or their oldest clothes, for that matter, depending on what style is "in"), or sprawling in front of the box watching TV soap operas like Neighbours.
Some will be at university or college, preparing for exams and careers. Wherever they are, they will undoubtedly be listening to a radio or CD player belting out tunes from the Spice Girls, All Saints or Catatonia.
Sometimes, some choose to get out of the country for a break. Package holidays to Spain, Greece or Turkey are always popular choices, where they party the night away and sleep by the pool during the day. Few may venture to Egypt for a holiday. If they do, they'll spend a couple of days in Cairo before heading to the sun and sand of the Red Sea or maybe catching a bus out to an oasis.
Fewer still, however, do what Alice Street has done. Also 18 and from the British south coast seaside town of Brighton, Alice has spent the past three months thousands of miles away from a Spice Girls song, disco or shopping centre. Swapping her jeans for village clothes and her books for knitting needles, she has taken to the life of a Bedouin like a goose to the water of a hot spring.
Her life now revolves around a tiny Western Desert oasis, where her daily dealings are with her "new" family -- the 11 people who live in a centuries-old mud-brick village, surrounded by date palms, olive groves and wheat and fuul fields. Her grasp of Arabic rarely leaves her wanting, and the way she has turned her hand to her farm chores even draws some level of praise from the men of the village. "She is not a good farmer," one said, "but she is getting better every day."
In the next week or so, her adventure will be over -- although adventure may not be the best term to apply to what Alice is doing in this remotest of outposts, where the desert horizon is all-surrounding and visitors are very few and far between. Her choice to go there was for the remarkable experience, but also for the learning that would take place. She didn't expect it would be so hard to leave.
Alice admits that she has found her paradise, and it is easy to see why. The sheer beauty, quiet and simplicity of the oasis and Bedouin life are breathtaking. The kindness of her hosts and the benefit of seeing how they are satisfied with what many 18-year-olds would see as so little have been the most valuable things she has seen. "This place is perfect. Just have a look at where we are," she says, with a sweep of her arm across the vast White Desert plain. "This is my backyard, and over there is my home," and she points to the cluster of date, olive, apricot and lemon trees about 500 metres away that hug the oasis and the tiny village where she lives.
But she now has a problem. She loves her new life so much that she doesn't want to leave it. Alice is going back for a reason related to one of the forces which brought her to the desert in the first place. University starts soon and she will be starting an anthropology degree next semester. She has already delayed it for one year so she could visit Egypt.
Alice's father, Brian, is a respected anthropologist who is currently professor of literacy in education at Kings College University, London. He has received acclaim for his work in developing practical literacy skills in impoverished communities around the world. "Rather than help non-English speaking people become literate in every aspect of the language, my father looks at teaching the necessities. This could mean teaching farmers in India the basic vocabulary associated with agricultural products or fertilisers, or helping women in the shanty towns of Johannesburg understand all the terms and meanings within new government pamphlets so they don't miss out on pension benefits. It promotes a practical use of English."
One of the things that impresses people who meet Alice is her maturity. She has her views, but she is not judgmental. Some pre-conceptions she had about life here and the dealings between men and women have rung true, but she has been happily surprised to see how the interaction of the sexes takes place in a rural setting such as where she lives. "The village is a place where men and women are distinguished by things like the work they can perform and where they can eat. Basically, the men do most of the farming work in the fields while the women stay in the village and cook, knit and raise the children. But the farm is a practical place. Sometimes an extra hand is needed in the field or around the village. Therefore, women help the men in their tasks sometimes and likewise with the men.
"Some things will never change. Men will always have their set of jobs, which all involve working outside, while the women will always cook, clean, make clothes and look after the children. The women will generally always eat in the kitchen, but the men will eat outside. I haven't come here wanting to say this is wrong and this is right. I want to experience the life as they lead it. But in some ways I am making them look at things a bit differently. They wonder why I will eat both in the kitchen with the women and outside with the men. I say that I want to be able to work outside with the men if I want to. I tell them I am capable of doing it, so they let me."
Alice spends her days switching between both worlds, helping in the field with the herding of the sheep and collecting water while also knitting Bedouin-style socks, jumpers and scarves with the women.
"Most outsiders would look at this place and think it was so uncivilised," she said, "but I see it as being the exact opposite. Here everyone is healthy, content and kind. They have all they need to support them, almost everything they eat is grown right here. They make their own clothes, tend to their own fields and repair their tractor themselves. People would think they [the villagers] are primitive because they don't sit at a table and eat their dinner with knives and forks. But again, it is the opposite. I can't think of anything more civilised and sensible than having people sitting together on the floor around a big platter and taking the food you like from any of the bowls available."
Life here is not a pre-modern idyll, however. "A recent problem that has affected the village has been television. A passing camel trader gave them a black and white TV set some time ago. Now every night when a soap opera comes on, one of the women goes to get the TV and a man disconnects the battery from the tractor. Then a girl attaches the TV to the power and the family all sit around glued to this tiny set. It is funny to watch, but I think it is bad because it replaces conversation."
That aside, Alice just loves it here. "I don't know how I'm going to cope when I have to leave. My mother is coming to visit soon and I will bring her to the village to stay for a week. After that, I'll return to England with her and start university. I'm sure I'll adjust to life back home pretty quickly, but I'll be counting the days until I return to the village. I'll be back, that's for sure."
