A Tribute To Notre Dame Classes

With sad inevitability, I failed to keep my promise of monthly posts here at "On Running After One's Hat." At the same time, the existence of my little blog continues to haunt my conscience, and I have not yet managed the trick of forgetting its existence and leaving it to the cluttered wasteland of the internet. So instead I trot out a new post every five or six months, infrequently enough that no one in their right mind would actually check for updates regularly.

This week was the last week of classes in my undergraduate career, a time that has managed that nefarious trick of the past, of seeming to have taken no time at all, but also contain a lifetime's worth of experiences. Sometimes I think I arrived at Notre Dame last week, but when I remember my everyday life during freshman year- living in Fisher Hall, actually visiting Inside ND more than twice a semester, the mysterious and fateful search for friends- it seems to belong to some remote past.

It is often said that college would be perfect if not for the classes. I've sometimes felt this way, but ultimately some of my most rewarding experiences in college have been in the classroom. Therefore, as a sort of tribute to my years here, I want to list those courses that stand out as being particularly outstanding. To make the selection process easier, I decided to choose one from each semester.

Fall 2007: University Seminar on The Iliad

The University Seminar is Notre Dame's attempt to make sure every student gets at least one taste of the small, discussion-based classes that liberal art-types dream of having in college. I can't vouch for the quality of all of these, but I can imagine no better introduction to college than my seminar, in which we spent an entire semester perusing and discussing Homer's Iliad. Spending so much time on the Iliad allowed us to dedicate a full class to each book (the Iliad's equivalent of a chapter), and although there were times the violent descriptions of death by spear and sword became repetitive, I think it was well worth the time. Even now, four years later, a chance encounter with another member of the class prompted recollections of what may have been the best class of my college time.

Spring 2008: Foundations of Theology

Another landmark of a Notre Dame education is the two classes apiece that each student is required to take in Theology and Philosophy. My standard first Theology course is another case of getting lucky in what is essentially a jackpot. I signed up for a class with a brand-new professor, always a risky endeavour, but one that paid off. He only taught at Notre Dame for the one year, before leaving for Harvard and, presumably, great things. This class did everything it was meant to, providing a solid understanding of the Old Testament, from the Pentateuch to the Prophets, with plenty of insights along the way. The professor's teaching was clear, fair, and entertaining, and success was very achievable without being easy.

Fall 2008: Dostoevsky

This class is a bit of an aberattion in my education, a class that filled my Literature Requirement but is very loosely connected to any other part of time in college. It was a great detour, for it introduced me to one of the world's greatest authors, and my understanding greatly benefited from the insights of class and professor. In other words, the class time and readings were wonderful. The papers, perhaps not so much. Professor Marullo, infamous for his introdutory Russian classes, assigned fiction writing exercises that could be resubmitted until an A was received, a policy that led to countless office visits, criticisms, and revisions. I did get better at writing how he wanted us to, in a cheap, almost pulp style, by the end. While i was frustrated by this at the time, I am now mostly amused by the memory of trying to overcome every academic fiber of my being in writing a scandalized newspaper report of a Russian party interrupted by an insance office worker.

Spring 2009: Reading the Quran

This was my first class on Islam, a topic I've learned about by parts: this class, Islamic Law, Islamic Art and Architecture, Intro to Sufism, etc; while steadfastly avoiding any introductory class. I think it was a good thing to start at the beginning, in order to understand what an strange and opaque text the Quran is on its own, before being introduced to the wide body of traditional exegesis and hadith that serves to explain its meaning, which occupied the last third of the class. Professor Gabriel Reynolds is an excellent instructor, who brings considerable energy into the classroom, and carries high but realistic expectations of his students. My paper concerning the role of the mysterious Dhulqarnain in the Quran may be one of the best I've written.

Fall 2009: One Jesus, Many Portraits

My second Theology course was also a lucky find. The professor, John Meier, is one of the world's foremost experts on the quest for the historical Jesus, but in this class we examined various portrayals of Jesus found in the New Testament. Not that Meier argued that there were inconsistencies, one of the first points he mentioned was that any man, much less the Son of God, is bound to leave different impressions on different people. Along the way I learned an immense amount about the Gospels and the letters. Perhaps what was most impressive was the occassional class when Prof. Meier would manage to make twenty five-odd college students during a morning class really feel the power of a passage from the New Testament, whether a description of the Crucifixion or the Christ-hymn of Philippians.

Spring 2010: Semester in Cairo- There were several good classes here, and the Islamic Art and Architecture was great, but since this is a Notre Dame tribute, I'll leave AUC out. Plus this is already a long entry.

Fall 2010: Books Under Suspicion

This class fulfilled one of my Medieval electives, and it was a great addition to my normal Islamic Middle East courses. The class focused on various controversial works in medieval literature, all but one in English. We started with the Canterbury Tales, but really got going when we entered material that was new for all of us students, including several works by women. The class was small and discussion lively, easy, and informative. If all of that weren't enough, the professor took the whole class to the premiere of Harry Potter VII, and delighted in pointing out that the Tales of Beedle the Bard are directly related to our course readings.

Spring 2011: Medieval Iran

And finally we reach the current, and last, semester. Professor Tor has a bit of a fearsome reputation, but her introduction to the widely underappreciated role of Medieval Iran has been invaluable. The history of Central Asia may be the last great frontier of historians: as Tor often points out, the controversies on the topic are often between three or four scholars who are familiar with the sources. But this course has done more than introduce me to Iran's role in early Islam, it also filled in significant gaps left in other courses which chose not to delve into the messy details of early Muslim political history, and instead fill in gaps with vague generalities. Getting into those details made this course more challenging, but I feel that I'm coming away from it with a much better understanding of Medieval Islam, which is a very good thing considered my focus in Medieval Studies is Islam.

Feorag Book Awards

As expected, entries on the blog decreased quite drastically this semester, a natural consequence of not traveling to strange places every other week. However, since I still have this forum for talking, and I feel a twinge of guilt whenever I remember I've added a little bit to the electronic wasteland of abandoned blogs, I have resolved to write something. Hopefully, for the next few months at least, I can manage one post a month. This time I'm going to go over the best books I've read in 2010, divided into ten categories. So, without further ado, here are the 2010 Feorag Book Awards.

Best Fiction Recently Written: Let The Great World Spin by Colum McCann

I stumbled across this book at the beginning of the year, and despite a setting (1970's New York) that wouldn't normally capture my attention, I gave it a try. McCann uses Phillipe Petit's tightrope walk across the Twin Towers to connect a variety of stories based in New York City. He sympathetically casts a wide variety of characters, and even though I read the book a year ago most of them are still fresh in my mind. It is a powerful work, and probably more accessible to the average reader than many of the books I'll list.

Best Classic: East of Eden by John Steinbeck

Like nearly every high schooler in America I got my first taste of Steinbeck in high school by reading the Grapes of Wrath and Of Mice and Men. While both are excellent books, I never felt much desire to read East of Eden, probably because the Cain and Abel theme seemed too sober. I finally gave it a try while my family visited Egypt, and while it is large and often dark, I found it to be well worth the effort. Especially enjoyable is Steinbeck's thorough knowledge and love of his California homeland that shine in his descriptions of the Salinas Valley.

Best Western: All The Pretty Horses by Cormac McCarthy

Cormac McCarthy and Larry McMurty may be the only Western authors to have gained widespread respect from the larger literary world, and for good reason. McCarthy's writing isn't always easy to understand, but it works beautifully. All The Pretty Horses takes place in Texas and Mexico, and tracks the difficult journey of a young man whose character is better fit for an earlier time.

Best Science Fiction: The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russell

On a completely different note, this book by Mary Doria Russel explores the possibility of a delegation from Earth visiting an alien race. What is unusual is the nature of the delegation: it is sent by the Vatican and includes several Jesuits. The story is worth reading on its own merits, but it also seeks to explain how religious missions to the American Indians could go so wrong, despite good intentions. The use of two separate timelines isparticularly well-done.

Best Short Story: Shadows by George McDonald

It was a year of short stories for me, especially in the spring when I would listen to one every day on the bus rise between Zamalek and the AUC campus. But my favorite was among the first, one from a collection of fairy tales by McDonald. All of them are good, but two features made Shadows particularly good: the rich imagery and one substory, which poignantly depicts the dangers of solitary brooding.

Best History: The Thirty Years War by CV Wedgewood

The Thirty Years War is one of Europe's most nasty and complex, which makes it a difficult challenge for any historian. Wedgewood rises to the task, and does an excellent job explaining the complexities of 16th century European politics. She also does well in her character portrayals of the war's leading figures, which are generally sympathetic but fair.

Best Biography: St. Francis of Assisi by G.K. Chesterton

I could hardly get through the list without including one work from the prolific Chesterton. Although this book, in typical Chestertonian fashion, can often seem unstructured and unfocused, I believe it manages to really capture the character of St. Francis, as a man who saw the world as it was when it was newly created, and loved it as if it were still that fresh. He also explains how it is natural for such an aescetic man to have great passion for created things.

Best Religious Work: The Cost of Discipleship by Dietrich Bonhoeffer

This book has taken me all year to read in small spurts, largely because it is often difficult work. Bonhoeffer is a thorough theologian with plenty of scriptural and linguistic references, but he is no dusty academic. His life matched the call for action found in this book, which begins with a rallying cry for a true understanding of grace.

Best Re-Read Book: The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky

What is one to do with many long hours on a cruiser in July with no job or responsibilities? Read 19th century Russian literature, of course! Brothers Karamazov is probably one of the greatest books every written, and I enjoyed it even more the second time around. All three Karamazov brothers are delightful and endearing in their own ways, and through them the story of a family feud and a trial takes on much greater meaning. Of course, it helps that I read the book for a class the first time, and consequently enjoyed the insights of my professor and fellow students.

Best Poem: Unharvested by Robert Frost

A difficult choice, which could very well change if I made this list on a different day. No commentary, just the poem.

A scent of ripeness from over a wall.

And come to leave the routine road

And look for what had made me stall,

There sure enough was an apple tree

That had eased itself of its summer load,

And of all but its trivial foliage free,

Now breathed as light as a lady's fan.

For there had been an apple fall

As complete as the apple had given man.

The ground was one circle of solid red.

May something go always unharvested!

May much stay out of our stated plan,

Apples or something forgotten and left,

So smelling their sweetness would be no theft.

Thanks for reading the inaugural Feorag Book Awards, and quite possible the only in the series. Hope you all have a wonderful 2011, with at least a few good reads!

Cairo in Revue

The arrival of August means that I have been blogging for just over a year, although my input has been predictably petering out as my life takes more familiar paths. However, familiar paths are often the most welcome, and I am eagerly anticipating returning to Notre Dame, which, as advertised in their promotional material, has become a second home over the past three years. I feel, as every senior does, like I only began the adventure of college yesterday, and suddenly graduation seems entirely too soon. Luckily I still have a full year of football games, Glee Club tours, Saturday lunches at Five Guys, doing ridiculous dances, hanging out with roommates, and alternating between loving and hating classes before I start the next step of my life.

But enough of looking ahead, I still have some writing to do about the past. Egypt already seems like a distant past (how does coming to Notre Dame seem like yesterday, considering that), and recently I've even begun to miss the craziness, and not just the cheapness, of Cairo. A friend of mine was said that international travel can be a double-edged sword, because one will always miss the places you've been after you have left, even if you weren't always happy while there. When I think of the shortcomings of one particular time and place it certainly is tempting to remember a place with other faults, and wish you were there instead. The best course of action, as the ever-inspirational Lt. Karnowski said, is to "live the dream." And a large part of that is realizing the dream can apply to the present, no matter how unlikely that may seem.

That advice is easier given than taken, and for the last month in Egypt I was often very anxious to return to the United States. Most of all my attitude depended on my company; when I was with Jonathon Neme, who has a year and a half left at AUC, we would talk about his future plans in Cairo and I might even wish I could be there to see them. But on the 7:00 bus to campus with fellow ND students a much different attitude would prevail, and the remaining time would seem to stretch to eternity.

With the benefit of hindsight I can say that Cairo was an amazing experience, certainly one that is much different than the usual time studying abroad. It was different world, enough so that answering questions like "how was Egypt" usually seems impossible to answer (not that you shouldn't ask! The interest is appreciated, just don't be surprised if I don't know what to say). But it is not just the "third worldliness" of Cairo that made it so different. Many students visit and work in more impoverished areas than Cairo, and their experiences are probably as foreign to me as mine are to someone who has never left middle-class America. Part of what makes Cairo unique is the juxtaposition of world-class hotels boasting fabulous luxury with miles of brick and concrete jungle filled with grit and garbage, with a liberal sprinkling of mosques both ancient and new throughout. Yet, despite its often squalid condition Cairo is a very safe city, one in which I never felt endangered, even when it seemed like we were the only white people who had ever visited a particular neighborhood. Indeed, those were the city trips that were most worth taking, because you might escape the hordes of salesmen who love nothing more than the sight of a possibly gullible khawaga (tourist).

I sometimes wondered if this friendly, albeit opportunistic, attitude towards Westerners is a product of the Mubarak regime, under which Americans seem to granted privileges in exchange for our government's generous support. There are certainly hostile Egyptians, as the terrorist attacks of the 90's and early 00's showed. But, judging by the stories of friends who traveled to Lebanon and Syria, Arabs truly are by and large a welcoming people, eager to dispel the negative notions that they typically assume Westerners hold about them. And I hope that in Egypt this continues to be true, beyond the time when the government makes it true.

Perhaps Cairo can be seen as a tapestry, which often seems to be uniformly brown, crowded and noisy. Only a closer inspection reveals some of the color and life beneath the exterior. Apartments that appear drab are often surprisingly luxurious. A plain door at the top of a broken staircase leads to a workshop filled with beautiful tapestries that might fetch hundreds of dollars in the States. And it seems like every block has a store that sells fresh juice which simply cannot be matched by American grocery store juice, or even expensive juice stands.

But there are real problems in Egypt, which must be addressed at some time. The growth of the city is unmanageable, particularly given Egypt's limited supply of arable land. There is a sharp divide between wealthy and poor, despite the efforts of socialist governments. Corruption is so common that it hardly has any negative connotation, and is often simply seen as baksheesh, a sort of tip. For every Egyptian who extends a warm, genuine welcome it seems like there are two who will lie and wheedle you in any possible way for a buck, even though they are usually among those who don't need it. Mubarak seems like Castro, a leftover from another era whose impossibly long decline keeps an entire country from moving on; whether it will move on to new prosperity or further problems seems impossible to tell.

Of course all of these thoughts come from a very limited perspective, that of an American who spent most of his short time in Egypt with the stratospherically wealthy portions of Egyptians who can attend AUC, and throughout his stay enjoyed the benefits of being able get away with much that a real Egyptian could never do, purely because he is a Westerner. In the end I was also a khawaga, one was a little more knowledgeable about the local language and culture, and who spent a little more time than usual in country, but in reality can scarcely know what it actually is to grow up and live as an Egyptian.

The Last Month

As my family has repeatedly pointed out, a trip to Jerusalem is a poor way to finish my record of a semester in Egypt. Of course the problem is that the longer I wait, the more behind I get, and the more daunting the eventual task becomes. With that in mind, please forgive me if I am sparse in my description of my last month in Egypt.

The last significant trip that I took before finals was to the Sinai Peninsula. It was a short trip, taken over the course of a normal two-day weekend, which gave it a rather hurried feel. That combined with the lingering effects of food poisoning from the previous week made portions of the trip less than completely enjoyable. However, there were two highlights that definitely justified squeezing the journey in the limited time. One was snorkeling in Dahab; the second a nighttime hike up Mt. Sinai to watch the sunrise from its peak.

Dahab, the base of our brief adventures, is a world-famous place for diving and snorkeling. Among the many locations with spectacular coral life is a spot known as the Blue Hole, which is infamous for an underwater arch that several divers have died attempting to reach. Luckily my two friends and I had no such aspirations, and we generally stuck to the surface. The place is rather disappointing from the shore, and seems like any other bit of ocean, although the depth of the hole is apparent by its much darker blue. But after sticking your head underwater a colorful world of life emerges, one that presents a stark contrast to the bleak desert above water. We swam and stared for about an hour and a half, until my swimming abilities were more or less exhausted and we returned to the beach and then to our hotel.

The second adventure began that night when we drove to Mt. Sinai at 10:00 PM after attempting to sleep for five hours in a room that cost under two dollars and was worth about that. We reached the reputed site of Moses ascent at about 1:00 AM, and became part of one of the oddest movements of people I have seen. In an odd combination of pilgrimage, tourism, and mountain climbing, hundreds if not thousands of people ascended the mountain in the dark, sleepily stumbling up a winding trail and wondering how all these people could possibly fit on the top. Finally, after two hours walking, we reached the final resting stop where climbers could buy overpriced food or drink or rent camelhair blankets to fend off the suddenly chilly weather. For those who climbed especially early there were even beds that could used for a predawn nap.

We rested at this stop for a while and then made the final ascent, where an old chapel marks the legendary peak. We were still early enough to get good seats, if having a view of the

sunrise is the operative standard. Unfortunately they were also seats perched on the edge of thirty foot drop. Whenever an ambitious tourist attempted to climb the rock to my right they would seem to be on the verge of pushing me down this drop, and consequently I was quite ready for the sun to hurry up and rise. Finally it did, illuminating a landscape of rocky, jagged peaks, which reminded me of T.S. Eliot's The Waste Land, and his description of a place where "the sun beats, and the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief, and the dry stone no sound of water." Beautiful, but not particularly inviting.

Not much needs to be said about the remainder of the semester, other than that finals went well and by the end most of the study abroad students were plenty ready to return home, to a more familiar and seemingly sane land. But as they gradually began their flights to America I began the longest and most thorough trip through Egypt of the semester, with my newly arrived family. Their visit lasted 18 days, and included far more than I can include here, so I will briefly summarize. The first portion of the trip focused on Ancient Egypt and southern

portion of the Nile Valley, which I had yet to visit. We saw a large number of temples, monuments and tombs, some of them famous and others relatively ignored. We also enjoyed a three day river cruise, during which we didn't have to worry about food, tourist hacks, or the other myriad problems of independent travel. Some of the sites, such as Abu Simbel and Karnak Temple, astound with sheer size. Others, like the Tombs of the Nobles at Luxor, were less breathtaking but more accessible with their simple paintings reflecting everyday life.

After our time in Luxor we stopped for a day in Cairo before heading west to Siwa, an oasis on the edge of the Sahara that was famous in ancient times for its Oracle, whose most famous guest was Alexander the Great. The oasis is a welcome sight after miles upon miles of featureless desert, and is large enough to support over 30,000 inhabitants, although its main town feels much smaller than that. Our main purpose in coming to Siwa was a three day camel safari through the surrounding desert. This safari was, by consensus, the best part of my family's visit. Siwa felt like another culture, more African and joyful than the rest of Egypt, but also more conservative, especially in the dress of their women. The desert was amazing, with classic views of dunes, countless shells from its days as an ocean bed, and unbelievably starry skies at night.

Finally we left Siwa for a day in Alexandria, followed by two days in Cairo, during which my family saw the Pyramids, Coptic Cairo, and the Islamic quarter. Then it was time for the flight home. Of course Egypt couldn't say goodbye without one final inconvenience, in the form of a two-hour delay in our departing flight. Luckily we had left a long layover in Germany open, and so we managed to catch all of our planes and even enjoy a delicious German lunch in downtown Frankfurt. Twelve hours later we were in Denver, and my semester abroad was finished in the same place it begun. However, my reflections on the time were only beginning, and will no doubt continue for a long time. I hope to share some of those thoughts, but I should warn my readers to not hold their breath.

Jerusalem

A couple of weeks ago Egypt celebrated "Sinai Liberation Day," and in honor of the occasion 4 friends and I traveled to the very country the Sinai was liberated from: Israel. The trip came right after a busy week for me, as my Glee Club friend Trigg Ferrano visited, along with fellow Domer Ellie. Their visit went excellently, and it was quite refreshing to get a new perspective on Cairo from Trigg. However, on Friday night I bid them farewell and headed to the bus station for the overnight bus to Taba, on the Israeli border. Soon I would learn one important lesson in two countries: try not to travel on people's holy days.

For the first hour or so the Egyptian bus played the Quran at excessive levels, completely ruining any chance of going to sleep. I'm not sure if this was company policy or the driver's choice, but it insured that I arrived at the border in a sleepy state. After crossing over without much hassle I discovered a second problem. While buses normally depart from Eilat to Jerusalem throughout the day, on Saturday the first one leaves at 4:30. Eilat is a lovely resort town, but resort towns are really only nice if you happen to have a room to resort to. Otherwise, you're just wandering mostly empty streets, and counting the number of open restaurants on one hand. So after a bit of this I decided to take the 11:30 bus to Tel Aviv, and hope that there were more frequent connections from there to Jerusalem.

Of course, that didn't quite work out either, as the next bus after I arrived left at 8:00. However, I did get to spend a few hours wandering around Israel's largest city, and hoping to surprise my traveling companions, who had come to Tel Aviv a day earlier. Alas, I searched the beaches in vain. Finally at 9:00 I arrived in Jerusalem, to find the city practically dead. After Cairo the place seemed sleepier than a Nebraska I-80 town. I had arrived in one of the world's most famous and controversial cities, but it was a quiet reception.

The next day revealed a little more life. My friends were joining me that afternoon, so I spent the morning going to a few sites that were a little less famous. My first stop was the Garden of Gethsemane, which was just opening. I had the place to myself, which was a pretty amazing experience. There is also a rather new basilica built nearby, on the ruins of two earlier churches. After leaving I climbed up the Mount of Olives, and sure enough I was semi-lost in East Jerusalem. This was actually quite exciting, because I got a chance to use my Arabic to get directions out, and of course enjoy a cup of over-sweetened coffee from some Arab construction workers who were happy with, and a bit amused by, my attempts at speaking their language.

The next day and a half were occupied with seeing the major sites of the city with my friends who had come from Tel Aviv. Jerusalem truly has a ridiculous number of holy sites, to the point that we unknowingly stumbled upon the Upper Room, where the Last Supper is supposed to happen. Of course their were three sites that overshadowed everything else, one from each major monotheistic religion: the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, where we got a free guided tour from a very enthuastic Canadian priest in training, the Western Wall, and the Dome of the Rock. All three were amazing experiences, but in different ways. The Western Wall is quite unremarkable in appearance, yet might present the purest spiritual experience, free from the distractions of ornate decoration. The Dome of the Rock is probably one of the most beautiful buildings in existence, at least from the exterior (only Muslims are allowed to enter). And the Church of the Holy Sepulcher packs the most history and holy sites in a relatively tiny, cluttered site. It was much different than any other church I've been in, perhaps because its ownership is divided between five different sects, who do not always get along.

As always in the Middle East, the journey back presented plenty of adventures, or misadventures. We literally caught the bus back to the border seconds before it departed, but the trouble really started when we tried to enter Egypt. First of all Israel has a rather evil exit tax of 98 shekels, which of course is impossible not to pay. Then several people had trouble with visas at the border. Normally they could buy a new one without trouble, but because it was Israel it was more complicated, which really means more expensive. But in the end we all got through and caught a minibus to Cairo, ready to enter the homestretch of the semester abroad.

Ahly vs. Zamalek

Last Friday I accomplished one of my goals for this semester by seeing Egypt's biggest domestic football game: Ahly vs. Zamalek. FIFA said that the two clubs share "one of the world's fiercest footballing rivalries," and while the match does not have talent of El Clasico or the Milan derby it certainly shares the passion. This year Al-Ahly had already more or less wrapped up the league title, but a win over their archrivals would be a particularly sweet way to clinch the title. Meanwhile, Zamalek could insure a second place finish, and thus a place in next year's African Champions League, by a victory. Of course bragging rights until the next game next year were also on the line. The price for a second class seat to the game? 30 pounds, or between 5 and 6 dollars. Not too shabby.

We showed up to Cairo International Stadium about an hour and a half before kickoff, to find the stadium already almost completely filled up. Our first error was to enter the Ahly gates, even though we intended to support Zamalek. After we saw that the Zamalek section was still open we asked the guards if we could cross the "no man's land" between the two areas, guarded by two rows of riot police. After some deliberation we were allowed to go over, and found seats with high but good view of the entire field.

The game surpassed all my expectations. Zamalek got off to a stunning start by scoring in the first minute, and the Ahly section went dead quiet. For the rest of the first half there was non-stop action, as the two teams traded goals before going to the locker room tied at 2 all. The second half was a little calmer, so when Zamalek scored with under 15 minutes remaining it seemed that they might have wrapped the game up. The Zamalek section got rowdier and rowdier as the clock wound down, until the game reached injury time, the extra time added by the referee to make up for time lost on injuries and other distraction during the half. Then disaster struck as Ahly scored an equalizer in the final minutes, and it the Zamalek section's turn to fall silent, except for the sound of curses and a few chairs broken in anger. The remaining time expired without incident, and although the game ended in a draw the Ahly crowd definitely came away with a better feeling, having taken a point away from what looked like certain defeat. Despite my disappointment at the result I mostly felt lucky to have witnessed such an incredible game, which provided great entertainment both on and off the field. Here's a video of the game's six goals.

Spring Break: Part Two

Things are getting surprisingly busy here in Egypt, especially since we're entering the time of year when school is actually challenging, or at least time consuming. Final papers are popular in Egyptian classes, so in the next few weeks I'll be writing three 10-12 page papers and several smaller ones, while fitting in a trip to Jerusalem(!) in between. So if I'm a little tardy in posting, please forgive me.

With that note, I'll try to give a few more happenings from Spring Break:

Least Time At A Major Monument: The first day we were in Athens we the Acropolis perched on its hill, so naturally enough we decided to check it out. By that time it was past 6:00, which in Athens is apparently way too late to be open. No big deal, we would come the next day. So the next morning we followed a Lonely Planet walking guide that was supposed to take 2 hours, 4 if you walked slowly, and included the Acropolis. Apparently we are exceptionally slow walkers, and that combined with a lovely hour and a half long lunch put us at the gate of the Acropolis at approximately 2:35, where we told that Athen's most famous destination was closing in 10 minutes. There are two major problems with this: nothing closes on the quarter-hour, and unless its a tea time break why would anyone close before 3:00? But there was no time to argue, so we spent the next ten minutes sprinting frantically around the top of the hill, barely stopping to snap the occassional picture or glimpse at the wonderful scenery below us. Despite the rush, I could appreciate some of the wonder of the place, which I think is much more impressive in person than pictures, like many ancient monuments. The size of the building, like the pillars of the Temple of Zeus we had visited earleir, was truly impressive.

Least Touristy Destination: Skopje, Macedonia

This is definitely not a tourist-oriented city, and it would be difficult to spend more than one or two days of sight-seeing here. Almost none of the major sites had any sort of booth, and the fortress doubles as a sort of park for locals. The only time we bought a ticket it turned out rather poorly; it turns out that the Art Gallery in the old Turkish baths is 60-70% blank walls, with a few pictures in one wing of the building. There is a nice "bazaar" in the town (anyone who has been to Cairo or even Istanbul would probably laugh at the idea of the orderly town market being compared to those cities), and there I bought my only souvenier of the trip, a nice beret. All around, the best thing about Macedonia was the mountains; on the train ride into Skopje we were able to see a gorgeous moonrise over the hills behind us.

The Goofiest Outfit Award:

Easily goes to the Athenian soldiers at their Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. This is a case where a picture is worth a thousand words, apologies for the pigeon wing in the foreground.