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ladybellyd-blog · 13 years

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Dancer’s tip –– Lorna’s Dance Guesthouse in Cairo-

Dancer’s TIP for discovering Cairo –– Lorna’s Dance Guesthouse in Cairo-

Lorna, a Scottish bellydancer who has been living and dancing in Cairo for five years , regularly hosts bellydancers from all over the world in her spacious and sunny Mohandiseen apartment.

HOW and WHY I chose Lorna’s place- at bottom of blog entry .

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For me discovering a country or city means soaking myself in the local atmosphere: learning the language , tasting the food, listening to the music , trying out the dance steps. Understanding traditions.

And best of all, getting to know the locals, and. This is how I best imprint authentic street culture on my brain and heart.

And if I’m lucky I come back a friend or two richer.

This is why my personal choice always is to sleep on the sofa of friendly world traveller or take my chances staying with a unknown friend of a friend rather than miss experiencing the “real thing” by choosing to stay in the impersonal shell of a tourist hotel.

So , as a bellydancer visiting Cairo in my top choice is to stay with Lorna Gow. Here is why.

In January 2011 I went to Cairo to attend the Nile bellydance festival . It was cancelled due to the protest and popular uprising ( read about my adventures in earlier blog posts).

Forty or so dancers had already arrived at the Pyramisa hotel when the protests started, the majority never made it . In spite of the organizer’s best will even the contingency plans for a smaller scale festival had to be abandoned as the violence escalated throughout the city

These circumstances coupled with the extraordinary disruption caused by the revolution should have completely overshadowed , if not completely ruin, the focus of my trip: improving my dancing and immersing myself in the Cairo dance scene.

But it didn’t .

Even as the revolution was taking place and while hotel guests at the Pyramisa and elsewhere were fleeing the city, I was getting private lessons from several teachers teachers in the privacy of Lorna Gow’s in-house dance studio.

Flashback to ten days earlier .

From the moment I arrived at Lorna’place in the middle of the night I got a more than a bed.

I was greeted by the warmest welcome.

Although I consider myself an adventurous and experienced traveler Cairo can be quite daunting if you want to go off the beaten track with limited arabic.

Lorna’s hospitality took a lot of the remaining fear and uncertainty out of my first trip to this huge and bustling city.

In the three days before the unrest broke out and forced us into a week of “house arrest” due to curfew restrictions Lorna more than helped me get my bearings so I was able to make very efficient use of my time even though she also hosting other guests at the time.

Not only did she arrange Arabic lessons for me, she also accompanied me to Khan el Khalili (bazaar), took me costume shopping to Eman Zaki’s and Amira El Kattan’s. She taught me how to make baba ghanouj Egyptian style and I was welcomed in her circle of friends (translate to = fun partying on the town ).

Lorna and I getting ready to go dancing in Cairo-modern style

In short she was a fantastic hostess.

I never got a chance to attend the Nile festival nor see Lorna dance on the Pharaoh Nile boat (or any other dancers for that matter). But did I accomplish my goal of improving my dancing : I got private lessons from Lorna and other teachers she recommended to give me a variety of lessons fitting my requirements.. The teachers all came to her studio which was super convenient for me.

So in spite of the odds stacked against it the moment the crowds started marching on Tahrir Square my dance trip was a success.

I got my authentic window into the Cairo dance scene.

MY BEDROOM WINDOW IN CAIRO

So I will be back again. Insha’Allah !

This time I know it will be to see not only a teacher and hostess but also a friend .

Because as Lorna promised in black and white on another note she left in my room the night I arrived: “Mi casa es su casa !”

And that’s the best part of travelling to distant and foreign lands.

To come back a few friends richer.

“Myself (left at back) , other dance house guests from China, dance teachers , Lorna and friends sharing a Chinese New Year meal at Lorna’s place during the Cairo January 2011 revolution”

HOW and WHY I Chose Lorna’s place

Staying with Lorna was not a random choice for me.

My ideal was stay in a home environment , conveniently located with regards to the Nile festival and for reasons I mentioned earlier with someone who knows the city and the dance scene .

I found Lorna’s place advertised via her blog as I was researching Cairo and accommodation options. After reading her blog and exchanging a few emails we had a good click so I booked my room.

Summary for Lorna’s guesthouse”:

Equivalent in money terms to what you pay in a simple Cairo hotel. She rents two spacious rooms and a much smaller basic single room when demand is high. You can share with a dance buddy or stay alone depending on space availability.

You get a comfortable room on a quiet street , central location (taxi rides to most places in central Cairo are 6-10LE are less than 1 euro ), modern amenities (wi-fi on the balcony my personal favourite )

Self catering, we sometimes cooked for (and with) each other when the mood struck. Supermarket is one street away.

Definite Gold star for in-house studio : being able to take high quality dance lessons from Lorna or other professional guest teachers without having to face a single Cairo traffic jam is a real treat !

For details please contact Lorna at [email protected]

Or read her blog at http://bellylorna.blogspot.com/

------------------------------See you in Cairo -LadyBellyD ---------------------

#Egypt #bellydance #bellylorna #cairo #guesthouse #hotel #accomodation for dancers

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ladybellyd-blog · 13 years

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Lady BellyD danst op de STOrm podium in de Amstelveen Schouwburg op 31 maart.

I will be performing on March 31st. A fun evening of music, cabaret and dancing. Click on title above to see the full program.

For ticket info see http://www.schouwburgamstelveen.nl/page.ocl?version=&mode=&pageid=28 See you there !

#bellydance #ladybellyd #performance #schouwburg amstelveen

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ladybellyd-blog · 13 years

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"The arrest " , Thu Feb 3rd 2011

This describe the rest of my Cairo adventures during the civil unrest which started January 25th. I returned to Amsterdam on February 8th and am praying for the peaceful resolution of the Egyptian crisis.

As am posting this, it has just been announced that Mubarak has stepped down!

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Thursday February 3rd

Today we were arrested.

Our day started peacefully .

At 10:00 this morning I awakened to the sound of a cooing pigeon. It had taken refuge in the air conditioner unit hanging on the wall outside the bedroom.

And on the balcony the chirp of birds was the loudest sound outside.

Cairo, quiet and still on a Thursday morning. It is never this quiet in Cairo even on Fridays.

The day was sunny, the curfew not until five in the afternoon so early afternoon we went shopping in preparation of the evening’s planned Egyptian meal.

By 15:30 we had returned to the apartment and dropped the football- sized cauliflower, the slender white aubergines and the fresh meat from the butcher’s on the kitchen counter before setting out on what has become Lorna and I’s ritual a short stroll to Shehab and Gamat el Dowal .

Being virtual prisoners in the apartment this is has been our only barometer of the mood in Cairo as we have not set foot on Tahrir square since the protests began. And although we are eight kilometers away from the eye of the storm this barometer has been very accurate so far.

Lorna’s boyfriend A. has arrived from Sharm and he accompanies us. We are looking for telephone credit cards which are scarce.

As has been my custom I take my little Sony cybershot camera along.

It has been with me everywhere since I arrived on January 21st. Lorna warned me people on the street do not like being photographed so I use a combination of stealth , discreet and respect while taking pictures. In the past week, though, people on the streets have often invited me to take their pictures.

We reach Shehab and turn right at GAD onto Gama’at el Dowal. Traffic is rushing along the boulevard in a fluid staccato . It’s easy for pedestrians to cross the boulevard today .

After buying phone cards we continue to stroll. Close to the shop a tank is stopped on the street , two soldiers perched on top of it. It will make a great photograph for my impromptu reportage on Cairo events .

To be on the safe side we ask for permission to take the picture..

The soldiers finally nod yes. By the time this negotiation has taken place and the photo taken a small group of men and women have gotten closer, frowning. Some are speaking in an animated tone of voice, almost shouting. .An old toothless woman wearing a black shawl hobbles towards me, raising her fist in the air.

We have annoyed them. We walk away at a fast pace.

Egyptian flags are on prominent display on many buildings and businesses, an airing of nationalistic fervor which I capture on camera.

At el Sudan square a man on the opposite side of the road is carrying a large pile of flat bread. The situation must be getting better if there is bread. L points out the bakery to me, across the street from us to our right.. It has a queue in front of it.

I snap a quick shot .

Almost immediately we are surrounded by a group men, arguing with each other and with us. They point at my camera.

If that picture is worth a thousand words then just now we are hearing the thousand words it represents . And they are angry ones.

And now I remember how quickly behavior which is frowned upon attracts attention on a Cairo street.

And how swiftly it is dealt with.

One evening last week as we were walking direction GAD fast food restaurant from our apartment I witnessed such an incident. L and I has just walked past a child carrying some heavy bags. He was crying and pointing at a young man who had just passed him .In a moaning voice he cried out “ Don’t hurt me” .

We never saw what the man had actually done but in thirty seconds or less, a group of ten men came from all directions to the child’s help and and encircled the accused, We watched him being harangued, given a lecture on harassing a child and being shamed on his behavior.

That night I stood in awe of this display of street justice by ordinary people. Not one second had the men hesitated to come to the child’s rescue and protect a defenceless person against wrongdoing.

Today we were the ones being accused.

There is now a mob of about twenty five men around us. This time A and L. are the center of the fury as they speak the lingo. After five minutes I hear “Yalla” which I take to mean we have convinced them to let the matter drop and that we can go.

But the men is still with us . “Yalla” means “Let’s go “ . Not “Go” ..

We are now being escorted somewhere. Why ?

Amongst the shouting I pick out: “homma sawwaru el furn” This I understand, the past tense is the first I’ve been learning.

“They photographed the bakery”.

A exercise in arabic conversation has turned into a practical one on how to handle inflamed patriotic souls.

L walks close to me and whispers in my ear : “ They want to take your camera.”

What I do not know yet is that someone who saw us photograph the tank has been following us and has alerted others. One picture, okay , two picture , maybe , three , no way .

But at that moment I certainly understand it would be preferable the army didn’t see the dozens of pictures I have taken of the looted streets in the past week.. And of the odd tank, guns, sticks and machetes.

L. has another concern : Are there any bellydance picture in your camera ? she asks me ..

She is afraid to be hassled if they find out her occupation. Bellydancers in Egypt do not advertise their profession freely to acquaintances, in extreme cases for fear of their safety but most often not to be shunned by those who consider this disrespectful work.

Fortunately, there are not. We haven’t had a chance for much dancing this week.

Under close guard by the locals, we cross the street back onto the other side of Gama’at el Dowa..

In front of us is another tank and around it army soldiers carrying guns with bayonets.

The local men address the soldiers ,gesticulating faster.

The soldiers surround us and gesture us to come with them . Very firmly . “come , come, ok, “

In a quick commotion,we are passed from one group to the other, grabbed by the arm by the soldiers and marched into a house being used as their post..

We have been arrested and handed over to the army.

We are marched inside by fifteen soldiers and along a short corridor into a square room 3m by 3m.

All three of us are standing close to the right wall, Lorna stands between A. and me.

A speaks to Lorna in Arabic.

Then things happen very fast,

He is pushed against the wall, his pockets emptied, his wallet opened. I glimpse a flash of greenbacks. The soldiers crowd closer around Lorna and I . Asking questions which I do not understand. Shouting. A answers back and then the soldiers begin smacking him on the back of the head.

And then he is roughly escorted into the next room and disappears from our sight.

I hear Lorna gasp and her breathing become shallow. My whole body is rigid and I have a hard time focusing to what is happening around me. Lorna hands over her zebra print wallet, it is turned upside down.

I hold up my bag to the soldiers. One of them grabs it and opens it.Out come the apartment key, 150 LE (egyptian pounds ) in small bills and my red camera.

The keychain gets turned over several times, the writing on one side examined in detail. More questions. L. tells them it’s from Mexico.

My bag and its contents are returned to me.

The soldiers are shouting even louder now . A short one which seems to be in charge shouts “Feen il memory card ? “ Even I can understand that one .

They want the memory card.

My mouth opens but no sound comes out.

I look down in an effort to keep calm. All I see are my hands again, hanging loosely in front of me in a natural , semi open hand position which prevents the arms and hands from tensing.

One of my bellydance teachers has dubbed this “ the coffe cup position” .

I relax both my hands a little more and hold the pose. I must focus and remain calm.

Meanwhile an old woman wearing a loose black dress and dirty plastic sandals has been called into the room . She walks towards us and before I even realize L and I are being groped in front of the fifteen soldiers in the room.. She is frisking us, not very well , but in a way which leaves no doubt of her opinion of foreign women.

We manage to turn around to shield ourselves from their prying eyes.

I am asked to take off my shoes as well and my bag is inspected again. In a swift movement , one or two banknotes from my disappear into her bra . The old woman is clearly practiced at this trick

Then she turns away from us and says to the soldiers. “ Mafeesh” .”Nothing”

Four soldiers lead us to another room off the corridor back towards the entrance.

The soldiers lay our bags and wallets on a desk which has papers and a telephone on top of it.

The short one addresses a man with a mustache who is sitting behind it. He waves the soldiers to the side and asks us in English where we are from and why we are not carrying our ID.

Not a minute later A. is brought into the room with us, also under heavy escort .

Unharmed .

Lorna starts breathing normally again.

I tell the officer I am very sorry.about taking photos . He ignores my apology , turns to A. to check his identity card and then asks him again about our passports. It is clear the men are in charge.

“Fi ilbayt ” A. says . He is sent to get our passports at home while we are kept at the army post.

The four soldiers are now sitting on chairs beside the officer. From behind the desk where all three of us are standing I can see they are still fiddling with my camera. They turn it on and off, take the battery out, turn it on again , press buttons , look at the screen and pass it to the next soldier . The whole sequence repeats.

They are now looking at a slide show on the camera’s internal memory .There are no other pictures in the camera. They give the camera back to the officer.

More Arabic follows. .

The camera is returned to me . The slide show has been deleted.

We are offered to sit down on a tattered couch at the back of the room.

The atmosphere is a little more relaxed now .We are offered little boxes of apple juice .

Seems we are not the first priority anymore.

From a pile of confiscated goods one of the officers shows us a bottle of Martini brut and asks us if it’s good quality. This bottle must be from the large Duty Free building a block away which we saw earlier has been burned so probably looted as well. We give a big thumbs up.

We see more local tourists being brough into the room and being interrogated, one is a pakistani man with a wife and two young children . He speaks in English. Looking for a working ATM machine in a neighbourhood away from his hotel caused the locals to get suspicious.

Today just being out and about and not Egyptian is a crime.

A returns with our IDs . They are checked and then we are released back onto the street.

Back to the apartment, up th elevator . We lock the door . And then we hug each other.

Our friend Marta has turned the TV on. Today’s big news is that foreign journalists are being attacked by thugs all over the city Tension is up several notches. The neighbourhood vigilance we have witnessed since Tuesday is turning to suspicion with foreigners being accused of being spies.

L. tells me this is what happened at the army station. I missed this bit as I do not understand Arabic well enough. When A. was being smacked on the head he was being accused of being a spy.

First his hard earned American dollars from his job in the tourist trade in Sharm-el Sheikh branded him a possible foreigner.

Second him speaking to Lorna in simpler than normal Arabic immediately raised suspicions about him being a spy.

My legs feel weak and I let myself fall on the sofa. I am shivering

Our barometer walk has accurately reflected the mood outside. Cameras are dangerous accessories for any tourist in Cairo today.

We had a close brush with danger. We were lucky.

Lorna brings me a cuppa. It steams on the table in front of me. When I finally raise my right hand to grasp the cup the tea is cold. The leaves have settled at the bottom . I gulp it down.

I would like to be able read the future into the brown soggy residue and know what tomorrow will bring but I do not know how.

I look down and open my left hand. Maybe palm reading is easier.

But the lines of my hand are obscured.

All I can see is that today I, literally, held my future into my own hands..

I stare at the small rectangular piece of plastic, a 2 gigabytes reminder of what could have been..

The old woman is not the only one with a quick hand.

#mohandiseen #cairo #protests #ladybellyd

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ladybellyd-blog · 13 years

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Egypt's revolution observed from a Mohandiseen balcony

“Min el balakunya min el Mohandiseen min el Kahira ”

Cairo, Tuesday February 2nd 18:00

These posts were written in last six days as I have been experiencing live the political events developing in Cairo .

Today is the first day I can post them online including some of today’s events .

Cairo Friday 28 January –

What started out as a two week getaway to learn Arabic and improve my bellydance skills has turned into a different adventure altogether .

From the word go it has been easy to fall in love with the whirlwind of Cairo nightlife.

It all started with Lorna’s warm welcome into her home (www.bellylorna.com) a Scottish dancer who has been dancing in Cairo for five years .

On Tuesday night January 25th Lorna, her friend Eshta and I danced the night away in Villa 55 in Maadi to live jazz . Under blue light and the spell of singer Ahmed Harfoush ‘s velvet and steel voice ( http://ahmedito.webs.com/)we were transported in spirit to a smoke filled club of the Big Band era.

As the evening neared its end, filled ashtrays, empty glasses and the odd whisky bottle littered the tables in the bar. Meanwhile the mood turned grave as the TVs in the corners of the bar started to transmit live coverage of the unrest on Tahrir square Earlier that day we had heard of the unrest but, already embarked in the frivolity of what can be cairene tourist life , I had not taken it seriously.

To be fair many people I had spoken until that time had not expected this to be very much different than the last anti-Mubarak demonstrations they’d seen in last few years .

As precaution we were accompanied back to Mohandiseen by a couple of Egyptian friends who did not want us to risk a taxi ride home .

We made it home in record time and did not see any unusual activity on the street .

On Thursday evening as I walked back to our flat the new proud owner of an Samia’s ring teal and lime green costume exquisite by Amira, one of Cairo’s best bellydance costume designers (www.pharonixofegypt.com), I could almost believe nothing had changed here in the city.

Three night s later the situation has changed dramatically . On that same night we heard of the protests gaining strength , and that the government has reacted swiftly by arresting the head of Muslim Brotherhood.

observing the developing situation from Bert’s on Syria street

This morning after three o’clock Friday prayer we went for a stroll down to see what was happening . The main thoroughfare close to our apartment called Gamet el Dowal was empty, the calm before the storm .

Now it is early evening and from the same balcony in Mohandiseen where I watched beautiful sunsets every night since I arrived we have been hearing the noise of the crowds get louder on the main on Gamet el Dowal. At around 8 o’clock the noise becomes punctuated by gunshots , very close. In the distance plumes of smoke rise across the buildings.

Internet and mobile access has been completely stopped since this morning . We have no access to updated news .We are glued to CNN . Al Jazeera reports only come to us via friends who can call us on landlines.

To get fresh news we walk downstairs to hear what the word on the street is. The old bowab who takes care of the building shuffles quickly in his blue robe and white cap frantically gesticulating to us to stay in.

He says the youths have been protesting as close to us as Shehab street. He doesn’t seem to realize that this might be something bigger than just youth wearing off teenage frustrations and testosterone .

Families, young and old are venting their grievances on the street.

Now it is night and we are officially under curfew. To distract ourselves we make baba ganouj, egyptian style, smoking the eggplant straight onto the gas ring. The smell of burnt aubergine skin fills the kitchen .

Mixed with parsley, garlic, tahini and olive oil it makes a fragrant and delicious dish.

Inside , the smell of ordinary Egyptian cooking fills the air, a fragrant symbol of Egypt’s simple people and extraordinary hospitality.

Outside the smoke rising on the eve of an extraordinary Egyptian revolution reminding us of Egypt’s complicated politics and ordinary people’s frustrations.

There is never smoke without a fire .

“ Mafeesh mushkilla “ “ No problem “

You will not hear on the streets today from the mouths of the normally extremely polite cairenes .

There is a problem and people want to be heard .

CNN announces that the police has been asked to withdraw from the streets .. From our vantage point on the balcony of our building on a quiet street in Mohandiseen street we still hear the sound of the crowd. Gunshots have subsided.

Mubarak has now appeared on TV and as his speech finishes we hear the crowd almost instantly roaring its disapproval. The volume is up again.

I would love to understand what they are saying and I am more determined than ever to learn Arabic

Tonight Egyptians in thousands are pouring out into the street chanting : “ Down with Mubarak “

As for dance, I still do want to dance the night away as am sure the people of Egypt would like as well once they regained their freedom and their dignity.

Only it will not be tonight.

Saturday 29 January.

The sun is almost setting on our balcony. Another evening approaches. It has been a long day .

Throughout last night until early morning we heard the unrest on the streets and explosions.

This morning we opened the tall wooden shutters of our bedroom to see the building across from us two streets away burnt down , still smouldering .

The deep rumbling explosions which worried us at first were most likely caused by gas canisters exploding as the building burned down.

It turns not to be an ordinary business as first suspected but rather, as we discover later that afternoon, a building housing a nightclub known to be owned by one the wealthiest businessman in Egypt . The building has been smashed and burned a symbolic target of the protester’s rage . Or, an opportunist insurance job ? … I am finding that things do are not what they appear in Egypt.

In anycase by the fact that buildings next to it and all along the street are intact is clear that these attacks are targeted.

It is three o’clock and we are hurrying to the food shops as we just heard that tonight’s curfew has been brought back from seven o’clock to four o’clock .

At the local butchers around the corner , there is a frenzy of hurried shopping . We leave with a kilo of sausages. At the grocers around the corner same scene except that the mood seems a little more anxious. Wefill our bags on water, rice, coffee and tomato sauce.

“ Haga tani ? “ the shopkeeper asks.

From my years spent living in Africa I fear water being cut off so I add “Wa kartoniit maia”.

I am proud of myself . My eight hours of private Arabic tuition with my very patient but firm teacher Ossam from U-can institute (www.u-caninstitute.com) are being used daily.

Outside the corner vegetable stand is open and we fill a bag with courgettes, bananas and oranges.

Supplies replenished curiosity takes over and we walk around the little square onto Shehab street, continuing almost to the junction of Gamet el Dowal.

There on the same spot where yesterday at the same time I took a picture of the Bedouin tenting covering the shop windows on an almost deserted street the scene from the same vantage point is unrecognizable .

The street is strewn with litter and a crowd of almost a hundred men has already gathered. The salesmen of Taheed ed Nour shopping center almost in front of them are busy wrapping and taking all wares down from the shop window.

We are urged to go home and lie low .

Friday Jan 28th before prayer – so yesterday before the protests started

Saturday Jan 29th-close to GAD on corner of Shehab and Gamat el Dowal

On the way home we pass the Ramses cabaret to discover it has been vandalized.

Shortly after four we start hearing the sound of shooting . Much more and closer .

We hurry back home .

We are greeted by “Sa3ad” our building’s caretaker , a Saidi from Upper Egypt with a proud demeanour. Last night he almost seemed to dismiss the seriousness of the situation .

This afternoon “Sa3ad” is busy organizing the street for protection.

As the oldest and boss of all the bowabs on our street he is also the most experienced. His head cap has made place for a thick white turban wrapped around his head . And he is wielding a heavy assaya , a first line of defence.

All the bowabs, their sons and neighbours are preparing for the night’s vigil ahead.A young man hurries to his mates with a long and heavy copper pipe.

I see him join his friends in the doorway of building around the corner . Together they sharpen their swords and sticks. For a minute I can see him twirling his stick behind his back . The meaning of the men’s Saidi dance I’ve seen Mahdy Emara my teacher in the Netherlands perform suddenly takes on a whole new meaning.

People do not fear protesters, they now fear looters taking advantage of the fact police have disappeared from the streets. And in an ironic twist it is being suspected that the looting itself is sponsored by the state police .

Across Cairo the same scene repeats itself : a couple of youths on motorcycles race down side streets in search of areas left unprotected. They then call the state police to loot, hoping people will get scared and want the police to come back and take control.

I witnessed the first this evening.

All over sudden we hear shouts, shots and see men, the protectors of our street running down to the corner. “Get back in “ they shout to anyone still on their balcony.

They are not only defending they are attacking in a show of strength and neighbourhood solidarity designed to chase the intruders off our street.

The hypothesis that the secret police is organizing the looting is being reinforced by a report that three looters caught today had secret police identification on them.

All afternoon and early evening the expat tamtam has been active. On our landline the telephone rings every few minutes in the apartment. We are given a number to use to call in the army in case of bad trouble. 19614.

Reports from expats are trickling in non stop from every corner of the city with bits news which have yet to make it onto Al Jazeera and will be tomorrow’s BBC and CNN news.

The word comes in that the

Egyptian Museum was looted last night and so have the gold shops in the souk area Khan el Khalili. Relatives in Sharm el Sheik report that tourists have been abducted . That BP Shell and Coca cola are evacuating their personnel tomorrow . It is almost too much to keep up with and has an almost unreal feel to it.

What we know is that the situation is deteriorating : the riots are spreading to Giza, a shopping center in Maadi and the Carrefour have been burnt to the ground . A foreign dancer’s apartment has been looted. Then the reports that more than thousand prisoners have “escaped” from Al Jamu prison outside Cairo.

Without even having noticed the time going it is now almost ten o’clock and suddenly voices erupt from the mosques’ loudspeakers. It is not prayer time so once again we rush to the balcony to hear what they are saying .

Our arabic does not pass the test on this one so we risk going downstairs to enquire .

A friendly neighbour tells us that “ the old man in the mosque is inviting people to join him “. Roughly translated we take this to mean means that“ the imam is offering hospitality to any citizen worried about their safety. More precisely it also means the mosques are safe havens because should any be threatened the imam will be able to use the loudspeakers to call in reinforcements from the area for help.

At around 11 o’clock we hear loud commotion and shots being fired very close to us again . This time we are worried and rush for cover in the corridor far away from windows and balconies. This last assault on our nerves proves too much for P. a Chinese dancer from Shanghai.

We all huddle around her , she is shaking, obviously distressed . We decide to calm her shaking by more shaking.

What do bellydancers do when they are stressed ?

All five of us end up in a circle holding hands between two concrete walls doing a collective round of shimmying to shake off our anxiety. It helps.

A little later Nile TV announces that the army has arrived in Mohandiseen. And that a lot of looters and escaped prisoners have been captured. One of the local TV stations diligently reports name and age of all detained . Organized reinforcements to create fear and chaos amongst the people and convenient scapegoats ?

We all exhale an Arabic h sound of deep relief .

From the street vigilantes to the army the people of Egypt are displaying their enormous sense of honour and solidarity.

As I write these last words it is 2:35 am and outside on our street there are still shouts from the protectors of our street . Which will be remain unnamed for security considerations.

We will be safe again tonight . Thanks to the bowabs, their sons, cousins friends and neighbours .

This is an Egypt which I feel privileged to experience.

Sunday January 30th

Sunday , Yum El Had : “the first day”. Of what? We are not sure. Today’s mood is strange. On the one hand it feels calmer as there seem to be less people about but more uncertain. I feel a curious mix of contradictory vibes .

Supermarkets very crowded but mood calm. There is no shortage of food yet except it seems for bread . L. who has lived here for five years has never seen of shortage of bread.

After dropping our groceries back home we walk down Shehab street again .

We pass smashed internet provider shops and banking machines . No more money is coming out of the wall even from working ATMs.

As we get close to Gamet el Dowal we see that a lot of shops have been bricked up as a precaution against looting.

Traffic along Gamet el Dowal is unusual : tuks tuks , normally banned from this large boulevard are racing and honking their horns , cars and motorcycles loaded with entire families and suitcases pass us . There are plenty of empty taxis today. A tank rolls along .

At Mustapha Mahmoud Square we turn left onto Syria street.

At the intersection of Sharia Lubnan volunteer traffic organizers are keeping circulation from turning to chaos. Another display of civic spirit.

As we walk further down we pass more cars along the sidewalk being loaded up with luggage and families. We are getting the impression that ordinary people are leaving cairo if they can. But in a city of eight million several hundred if not thousands of people probably leave for the country every day .

Uncertainty and mixed vibes once again.

We continue walking.

CNN is 10 hours behind the news . This morning reported prison breaks which were already on a Al Jazeera last night . The conspiracy theory involving the police fits in well here again : in one version the prisoners were released by secret police to as helpmates to spark more chaos and looting which can then be blamed on protesters which would then give the army a excuse to come in and crush the protests .

It is now 15:30 we find out that Al Jazeera TV channel is off the air. It is being accused of reporting untruths and stirring up unrest . Are we being isolated again ?

Seconds after writing this last sentence words a deafening rumble echoes off the flat windows outside. We rush to the balcony just in time to see flashes of of low flying fighter jets. The Egyptian army is flexing its muscles for the benefit of Cairo citizens.

Our satellite channels are now scrambled. A plastic part off the satellite has broken because of the vibration . Radio is now our only source of information .

The contradictions continue. One expat says Tahrir square was empty this morning. Another reports there are now fifty thousand in Tahrir and that tanks are blocking off exits and pointing guns at the crowd. Both true it seems. It’s the interpretation of these events which seems to be causing debate: is the protest growing or dying ?

One thing is certain. Since this started, apart from the (sponsored?) looting violence we have not heard a single report one report of protesters turning violent.

18:30 Our street seems dead quiet outside . Much more than yesterday . Except than in the few minutes it took me to write this very loud gunshots can be heard again in the distance.

Monday 31st January

Today there is a semblance of normalcy on the streets. We take a taxi down to the Pyramisa to check out the situation concerning the Nile festival: the organizer Mohamed Abou Shebika is still trying hard to make sure it goes ahead albeit on a reduced scale for the forty something dancers who have already arrived at the hotel. The schedule has been reworked around the curfew with a reduced number of workshops being offered.

We will dance tomorrow!

For the Chinese dancers and myself the euphoria is short-lived. No sooner have we returned to the apartment that we are only allowed out between 10:00 and 14:00 tomorrow , too short a time to risk driving to and back from the Pyramisa and be off the streets before protests start up again.

The radio reports that in tomorrow’s march up to a million people are expected. The army has already blocked main streets close to the centre . We are worried because it is still not clear which momentum and support this protest has amongst the army. With such a large crowd and reports that live bullets are now being used for crowd control even a peaceful demonstrations may get violent and take an unexpected turn.

The situation is starting to worry us.

Food and water are still plentiful but we buy extra just in case.

At sunset BBC radio broadcasts parts of a speech from a high-ranking Egyptian army official : it’s official.

The Egyptian army is siding with its people and saying their demands are legitimate.

Tuesday February 1st

Last night the blockade on our street has a more organized feeling to it . Blocking the street at either end in strategic places are several cars , the second line of defence against unwanted intrusion.

The men are protecting the steet in shifts and in order to mobilize the troops faster and more efficiently , whistles are now being used as a way to warn that help is needed outside immediately .

Sa3ad informs us that eight thieves were caught in Sudan street last night and handed over to the authorities.

L. tells me that since has started the atmosphere amongst neighbours and even on the street has changed enormously. We are now greeted by neighbours from balconies which she, in her five years living in Cairo, has never spoken to before.

Egyptians are daring to speak out, becoming more united.

Shehab street is looking even more forlorn that yesterday. More shop windows have been bricked in or whitewashed, the ATM machines have been removed from street. The intersection of Shehab and Gamat el Dowal is now blockaded. Local men armed with sticks, sporting white armbands to identify themselves as “friendly volunteer “ swords man this makeshift check-point .

Again , an example of Egyptian neighbourhood solidarity .

On Gamet el Dowal proper, a tank is rolling down the boulevard and stops opposite the shop where are doing today’s shopping . The army is friends with the people . I watch as smiling soldiers speak with people on the street .

I snap a shot of the tank rolling away .

Tonight as I write this the mood has turned ominous again . As soon as Mubarak’s speech finishes , celebratory shots and chants can be heard from the same boulevard.

Pro Mubaraks are organizing . They will march to Tahrir square tomorrow.

This square will be full of protesters intent on confrontation.

We know this because all local Vodafone subscribers in Cairo have been informed by sms of a pro mubarak rally at Mustapha Mahmoud square tomorrow .

Technology is being used again to influence the masses.

Except only one side seems to have a voice now .

It’s time to catch a few hours sleep.

Wednesday February 2nd

9:30 I awake this morning at 9:30 to the sound of helicopters flying over our apartment block direction Tahrir.

10:00 The internet is back up . We are euphoric . There is a frenzy of facebook, email updates , skype.Seems too good to be true . Why now ?

Marta from Norway is here to teach me a class today. To develop better egyptian dance style she instructs me to use more muscles from my core.

In bellydance it is a sign of exquisite technique and experience to be able to improvise, listen to all layers in the music and make it look effortless .

Soon after noon we hear the first of the clashes on Tahrir between pro and anti government forces .

Today it seems we are getting to the core of the conflict. But the political muscle being used in the moves out on Tahrir have a definite choreography feel to them. Someone does not want to hear the accents of this baladi music. Doom, doom.

According to eyewitnesses pro Mubarak are being brought to square on horseback and even camels ! And even more worrying that the pro Mubaraks have blocked the entrances to the square and the protesters are hemmed in from all sides . Concrete blocks thrown onto them.

Now we know why the internet is up ….so the whole world can watch the violence escalate.

Who will get involved next ? This is starting to look like a bad choreography.

Dinner is ready. We force a smile for the obligatory picture.

We are turning off the BBC live streaming for dinner. The news is too distressing. And I have a feeling it will get worse.

As well as closing the balcony doors so as not to hear gunshots .

We have decided to let normal life take over for an hour and to celebrate Chinese new year tonight in honour of the Chinese dancers staying at the apartment .

They say the year of the rabbit will be good.

And we all need some cheering up about now .

Today I have been getting many sms’s. Friends and family are worried. I haven’t cried yet because I do not feel my personal safety is at stake and in this drama I am only a reporter , my life is not here although I will leave many friends richer .

Another sms comes in . Back home life keeps going in spite of the chaos outside. My very dear friend Diane today has won a respite in her battle against cancer . Amongst this chaos I hold on to this good news . Alhamdulillah !

And I start to cry.

I will be back soon – LadyBellyD Reporting from a balcony in in Cairo.19:30

Thursday Feb 3rd

03:30 finished uploading some pics onto the blog entry. Took forever.

Sophie, Sylvain - after we finished skyping just now heavy gunfire direction Tahrir has started up again . More news later today.

#bellydance #bellylorna #cairo #egypt #ladybellyd #mohandiseen #protests #tahrir square #nile group festival 2011

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