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Al-Ahram Weekly 17 - 23 August 2000 Issue No. 495 
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Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875 |
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Al-Ahram Weekly 17 - 23 August 2000 Issue No. 495
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| Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875 |
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Pack of Cards
By Madame Sosostris
* Sigh... Don't we all remember the final tear-jerking scene in Father of the Bride, when the reluctant dad must face up to the fact that his baby girl is all grown up and it is time to let go. Whether you are thinking of the 1950s original version starring a young Elizabeth Taylor, or the corny Steve Martin remake decades later, we are on the same wavelength here. Sue me darlings, I am a diehard sentimentalist who thrives on pointing out every instance where life imitates art, or vice versa. On 2 August, my dear friend and Al-Ahram's Public Relations Manager Kamal Ibrahim gave away his daughter Noha's hand in marriage to a fine young cavalier, Sherif Habashi. It was a sight for sore eyes (and thank goodness my mascara was waterproof!). Brimming with pride, Kamal privately related how Noha had insisted she drive herself to the church in a gesture symbolising a breach of conventions long past -- this match was clearly based on the decision of two lovers, and not "arranged." After the ceremony, the couple drove off in an emerald green convertible to the Sonesta hotel where the reception was held. The Sonesta poolside was converted into an enchanting garden, a florist's dream no less. Large bushy green plants surrounded the premises and gargantuan bouquets adorned every corner, along with gilded candleposts. The guests, mostly youngsters, poured in as the disc jockey spun popular tunes. Noha's bridal gown was exquisitely simple, with none of that ostentatious fluffy sleeve business going on. Her mother Amal looked regal in a shimmery olive green ensemble that recalled an Indian sari. The couple will settle in California where Sherif is pursuing his graduate studies.
The blushing bride Noha flanked by her brother Karim and his fiancée Christine; the bride and groom with Mr and Mrs Ibrahim Mr and Mrs Kamal Ibrahim took advantage of this festive occasion to make another joyous announcement. Their son Karim is engaged to an American beauty named Christine, who was beaming that evening in a pale blue dress. Upon closer inspection, Christine was sporting a little henna design on her upper right arm. It seems the Ibrahim clan has not wasted any time introducing her to our favourite Eastern customs. Double mabrouk!
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* Receptions, receptions... I never tire of receptions. And, darlings, those who know me well can certainly attest that I am particularly fond of the diplomatic circuit. It is with reluctance that I ever refuse a chance to hobnob with the international set. My schedule can only accommodate so many events, and there must be some soirées that will have to do without yours truly. But when the Ambassador of Ecuador Franklin Bahamonde and his lovely wife Magdalena extended an invitation for me to attend a function in their elegant Maadi home on 10 August, this was not one I would pass up. Immediately, I marked it on my agenda and set aside my favourite mauve and fuschia kimono to wear. I have never been to the South American country of Ecuador, which lies right smack on the equator, but I am convinced my chauffeur would have preferred I had asked him to drive me there instead of the ambassador's residence. "Whoever designed this labyrinth called Maadi should be hung," declared the exasperated fellow, so difficult was it to find the address. Eventually, after many a bawwab had been asked for directions, we arrived. Security was tough and parking was rough. This, my little enchiladas, was not my problem. I waved my invitation and breezed through the gates, fashionably late.
Greeted warmly at the door by Ambassador and Mrs Bahamonde, I was led inside the salon where waiters offered cool refreshments. Over on the balcony, a sprinkling of guests stood idly chattering over weather, people and politics, perhaps even the swarm of security men garbed in white circulating below. It was a glittering evening, studded with high-level diplomats as well as journalists. A near complete set of Latin American ambassadors were present, including Argentina's Domingo Santiago Cullen, Brazil's Virgilio Moretzsohn de Andrade, Chile's Jose Manuel Ovalle, Guatemala's Juan Alfredo Rendon, Uruguay's Jorge Luis Delisante and Colombia's Jaime Giron Duarte, who very recently hosted a lavish reception in celebration of his country's national day at the Gezira Sheraton. I spotted French Press Counsellor Julien Chenivesse by the buffet. Granted, I was eyeing that corner lured by a tray of what promised to be succulent fried chicken nuggets. Making my way over there, I ran into Cyril Widdershoven, who recently left Pharaohs magazine to become editor-in-chief of Oil & Gas Egypt Magazine published by the Rising Star Group. I chatted briefly with Hani Moawad Selim from the Foreign Affairs' Department for North & Latin America and his beautiful wife, learning that the couple would soon be posted in Geneva. Then I had the pleasure of meeting Bassel Salah Mustafa from the Foreign Minister's Office. A little shoptalk and I was on my merry way to sample the goodies at the buffet.
* My penchant for gastronomy is no longer a secret by now. But is there ever a greater delight, my dumplings, than to catch up with an old friend? On the afternoon of 11 August, I met up with an old friend, Pierre Heumann, Near East correspondent for the Swiss weekly Die Weltwoche. Pierre is in Cairo for three weeks to fine-tune his Arabic at the British Council. Sitting on the sunny terrace of the Marriott hotel, over a Stella local and a spot of tea, we exchanged anecdotes of our respective experiences in the cradle of civilisation. I must admit, I could not resist a giggle when he related how he hopped in a cab one afternoon, asked the taxi driver to take him to "Al-Ahram" and to his surprise, ended up at the Giza pyramids. "No, no," he corrected. "I meant the newspaper." Sometimes a lesson is best learnt by experience. Surely Pierre will never forget the Arabic word for "pyramids."
* And, my sweet munchkins, no need to repeat how you can always rely on yours truly to dish the scoop on what's on in the Cairene art scene. A fresh new import from Jordan will soon rock the local record industry. Ruba Hatem is a Palestinian singer/composer endowed with the voice of a sparrow and the beauty of a gazelle, who has been enlisted to perform in the Sixth International Songs Festival to be held in Cairo 20-28 August. That evening, she will sing a piece she herself has composed titled "Shoo Bit'his" (What you feel). Born in Kuwait, she lived there for 17 years before moving to Lebanon for a year and finally to Jordan where her family has settled. Music must certainly be in Ruba's blood as she has taught herself how to play the lute. In 1999, she recorded her first demo featuring songs written by well-known Lebanese poet Nadim Muhsin. This year, she made up her mind to relocate to Egypt and record her new album. Armed with promotional photographs snapped by none other than the célèbre Zohrab, the personal photographer of the Jordanian monarchs, Ruba is ready to conquer Egyptian audio systems. She admires the works of Magda Al-Roumi and Angham, but her idol (not to mention screensaver on her PC) remains the inimitable Fairouz. Not surprisingly, she also prefers the genre of Oriental Jazz, such as that composed by the Lebanese diva's son, Ziad Al-Rahbani.
* The pièce de resistance, my puppets, is none other than a project very close to my heart. Faithful readers know that I am set to promote all efforts to reclaim the grandeur of Egypt's past. Recently, a dear Al-Ahram colleague and artist Mohamed Selima made his way to the Upper Egyptian city of Assiut. Governor General Ahmed Hammam Attiya has announced plans to launch a large-scale restoration of the city in order to recapture its one-time glory. Once a city rich with mansions and palaces, the Assiut of today has been reduced to a provincial town plagued by dilapidated buildings. The plan includes landscaping, revamping the dilapidated buildings as well as erecting new ones. Mere minutes after the governor's announcement, the people of Assiut donated over LE 500,000. It is estimated that this amount will rise to reach over LE 2 million in a couple of days. The project also encompasses the areas located on the peripheries of Assiut. The governor is keen on drawing on the public to take an active part in the reconstruction process. The corniche is the first target, with which specialist Gamal Mehrez has been charged. Artist Mahmoud Shukri has taken on the responsibility of erecting a massive monument in 6th of October Square to commemorate the victory of Egypt in the 1973 War. I am already looking to squeeze a trip down there into my agenda. Can one resist a little sneak peek?
* Whenever we think of zi artiste, we think of an egocentric chap with little black whiskers and a beret, who never misses a chance to sing his own praises and lecture on his unique sense of life, nature and love. As a well-known fixture in this country's galleries, allow me to attest that rarely are my prejudices proven wrong. But every so often, one comes along, a credit to his profession. Chapeau to a worthy artist and human being Hussein Bikar, who upon recieving this year's prestigious Mubarak Award for the Arts, donated the LE100,000 prize money to the Tumors' Institution. A sterling example of selfless generosity, his gesture will be dearly appreciated. Many remember Bikar sitting with his students at the Faculty of Fine Arts in Cairo, imparting his knowledge of music and the arts and encouraging the study of others' works. He leads the new generations convinced that "they will be better than us." Let us all hope God did not break the mold when He made this man!
* Finally, I just heard through the grapevine that the lovely daughter of our dear colleague Aziz Kirolos has cause to celebrate. Azza Aziz was recently promoted from front office manager to assistant rooms-division manager of the Mövenpick Sharm Al-Sheikh. There is always a reward at the end of the tunnel for those who beaver away!
