Al-Ahly

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Hello,

I know I left the last entry hanging, but, while it was fun, there was nothing that happened to me in Jerusalem that's worthy to report (aside from a conversation with an American evangelical and getting trapped inside a Swedish Hostel for 1.5 hours). So Brendan and I got back to Cairo safely so on and whatnot.

To say that soccer is for Egyptians (or anyone else in the world, for that matter) what (American) football is for Americans is a huge understatement. It is more like Egypt's 2nd official religion (considering the lowly position given to Christians - I'll write on that later). While we were having a couple of drinks on Thursday night, my friends and I caught word that the first leg of the final game of the CAF tournament (kind of like the Champions League for Africa) was going to be played on Sunday night in Cairo, between Al-Ahly and Cotton Sport, a team from Cameroon. There are two major teams in Egypt, Zamalek and Al-Ahly, both based in Cairo. Despite my inclination to root for Zamalek (considering that's where I live) other people have convinced me otherwise. Al-Ahly, which roughly translates as "National" was started as a club with heavy nationalistic tendencies. Actions by their members include donating blood during the 1973 War and they required that every male member serve in the military, with women members serving by being a military nurse. They are also the best team in Egypt and, so far, the only one from Egypt to play in friendly matches in Europe. They were also sent to the FIFA Club World Cup in Japan 2 years in a row, a record for any of the participating teams. Not only were they founded with a strong sense of national pride, but are also a consistently victorious team that raises spirits and (seldom) breaks hearts with any conceded goal. It's easy to see why most Egyptians invest themselves in this team.

So after purchasing tickets, we left last night to go to what was going to be the year's biggest game in Cairo.

Eddie, Allegra and I caught a cab to the stadium and, one horrendous traffic jam later, found ourselves walking towards the stadium in the midst of hundreds of screaming, red-covered, Al-Ahly fans, beating tablas and chanting songs. Even though we were still well outside of the stadium, I couldn't even hear my friends right next to me. We had to wait for a half-hour for 2 other girls who were waiting for us, and we decided to get in line to get up front, just to make sure we would be able to get in. As we were being shoved forward (the hundreds of people we walked in with had suddenly been funneled into a space no wider than my arm span), we noticed that people were walking in the opposite direction, screaming God-knows-what in Arabic. A man turned around.
"Look out for her" he said, referencing my friend.
I put my hand on her back, she said someone grabbed her ass, then the person behind me put his hand on my back to push me forward (this happens everywhere in Egypt that is crowded - no hostility intended, its just what you do). So suddenly I felt like I was playing "Train" with ass-grab thrown into the mix. I noticed everyone was looking at us and we heard a barrage of:

Welcome to Egypt!
You like Al-Ahly? What do you think of Aboutrikka?
Look out for her.
Who's your favorite player?
Where you from? Chicago! *makes a gesture of a gun* bang! bang! bang!

At this point the pressure is so intense that I am being pushed up against Allegra. As if she didn't get enough male attention that night. People started crawling over each other to get to the front and were trying to get out of the line. The small army of riot police were pushing people into the line with their shields, but finally relented and allowed them to pass. That didn't stop some of them from knocking some of the fans around with their shields. Another young man turned around to us and said, with a look of absolute terror:

"THEY KEEEELLL!!!"

Despite the horrifying nature of his message, we couldn't help but laugh.

Even in what sounds like ensuing chaos, we calmly walked out of the line. A young man walked over to us and told us, in perfect English, that we had to go to the other gate, its where he was heading just then. I asked him if we could follow him. He said of course. His name was Salim. We ran out into the street and tried valiantly to catch a cab. Suddenly a city bus stopped nearby and throngs of people crowded on. He joined the crowd and got pushed in. No one paid. The driver didn't even try to charge people. We got off five minutes later to another crowd of angry, red donned, Ahly fans. We ran from one line to the other and got caught in the median where, a police man, seeing Selim run towards him, knocked him nearly to the ground with his shield. He quickly got up and began conversing with him in Arabic. Soon, the man-in-charge came up to us. They had a quiet conversation, of which I only understood "Amreekeoon" - Americans. The big-guy pointed to the front entrance, past the throngs of people waiting in the chaos that I suppose they call a line. I asked Selim's friend (whose name I was unable to pronounce and am unable to remember; I'll just call him Bob) what that was about.

"We're being let in through the front because you are Americans."

Sweet.

So we ran towards the front where the guards tried to stop us. Selim simply pointed and said Americans, and they got out of our way. At this point, Allegra's friends had found us, so we were 5 white people running with two Egyptians, blowing past any resemblance of security. People watching us from the line were furious, broke through the barrier holding up the line, and sprinted through the small gate we entered through (with the metal detector eliciting a constant beep). We joined in a sprint through the security line for the game. A few minutes of running around and trying to get through, Selim noticed that there was a spot where the gate had been thrown open, with a wave of people running through. We ran over, past the guards who (I am not kidding) were sitting next to the gate, sipping tea and greeting each other, as if oblivious to the surrounding chaos. We ran up the ramp, and every section was packed, by which I mean that not only were the seats full, but people were crammed into the stairwell. Selim ran over to the edge, looking down to the ramp. He began yelling something then motioned for me to come over. I looked down and I saw a guard looking back up at me.

"Ok," he said, "come down."

We ran down and thanked him and rushed out into the stands but, once again, it was filled to the brim with people. Making our way down to where the guards were stationed, we caught curious glances from those surrounding us, wondering what 5 white people were doing at a strictly Egyptian affair. Selim tried to negotiate with the guards, asking them to let us sit in the empty seats in front of them. They refused, on the grounds that those seats were directly above the away section and they feared that Ahly fans would harass them by throwing various objects. Selim gave up on negotiating and asked me to go with him somewhere. We ran down the outside aisle to a large, locked gate. Selim began speaking quickly to three guards against the fence and he, once again, played the American card. He said something to the guard and we ran back to get the rest of the pack and ran back. We were all out of breath and through her forced breathes, one of the girls got out a forced

"Ana....min....*huff* Amreeka!" I am from America.

The guards laughed and instead of going to unlock the gate, they simply moved aside, revealing a bent fence, large enough for people to slip through. Selim slipped him 10 pounds. The guard was embarrassed about blatantly accepting a bribe in front of us, but I simply smiled about it, which he returned, took the money and we were through. We ran up to the top towards the seats and, well, they weren't the best seats, but they were seats, so we took them and got settled in and caught our breathe before the game started. When the teams came out, they were met by a barrage of flairs by the Ahly supporters, which security ran to put out. The noise was non-stop, with phases of drum beating, waves, and the occassional flair. The fact that Ahly scored a goal in the first 2 minutes didn't help the fans to calm down. The stadium was at capacity, so the whole time there were 80,000 screaming fans all around us, dancing and waving large flags. The game ended 2-0, which was met with thunderous applause and a crowd of people running to get out before the taxis got full. Luckily, we found one quickly and got home without much of a hassle.

While the game was an absolute blast (not to mention the adventure even getting to our seats) I left with an odd feeling of being an intruder. Like I said earlier, Al-Ahly is a team with heavy nationalistic roots, a team for the Egyptian people, a way to escape from the apathy and oppression handed out by their government on a day-to-day basis. It's a way to feel empowered, to feel authentic pride in their country, a country that consistently ignores the plight of their own people. It is also a time where the Egyptian people are able to come together, forget about their lives, the menial divisions placed between them, like class, religion, ethnicity, and express their unity. And they had to sit by and watch as a bunch of sprinting foreigners received first-class treatment, a reminder of the over-all attitude by those in power: Westerners come first, Egyptians are a distant second.

There was also something else here that I noticed. We were never treated with hostility by anyone, despite our grand treatment from the officials. In fact, we were welcomed with one part curiosity and another of excitement. While they acknowledge and (most likely) don't like the preferential treatment shown to us, they want to share their pride, to show the world what they are capable of. With a country that is slowly feeling like they've slipped out of the world's consciousness (aside from the backpacking European wanting to experience the Ancient sites), there is a tendency to welcome anyone in order to show off their last piece of dignity, to show that, despite what the world may think, we are worth something. There's a reason why the World Cup halted the civil war in the Ivory Coast because their team made it to the finals. However, there's also a reason why soccer team's fan clubs are used to mobilize revolutionary movements. It serves as a reminder that, despite our problems, our taking advantage of each other, and our petty yelling matches during rush hour traffic in Tahrir Square, we are human beings, and want to show you that we deserve to be treated as such. In that sense, I was more than happy to be a witness to this ultimate expression of their pride.

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Photos

Crammed into the fan section.
Picture I took while waiting for Selim to negotiate with the guards.

Finally getting to our seats.
After arriving in our seats. Selim, our sprinting and wily helper, is on the far left.

Flairs
Flairs thrown at the field at the beginning of the game. They started up again 2 minutes later, when Al-Ahly opened up the scoring.

Comments

[katie crumpley]

its your little sister!
so, about the soccer game.. who won? go liverpool! There #1. mom still hasnt got the skype yet. -katie aka your little sister!