I was walking around the Tahrir Square vicinity, planning on catching the metro home. I had a choice when I came to a fork in the road, I could turn right and get on the nearest metro, or I could turn left and see what all the fuss was about in Tahrir, after seeing throngs of people shouting, chanting, smiling and waving huge Egyptian flags in the sky. I chose to go to the left.
I have never been somewhere so crowded in my life. Cars that passed were beeping the 'wedding march' song and others were singing a faintly familiar football tune, but with the word Morsy repeated numerously. The happiness in the air was infectious as groups of teenagers took to dancing in the streets.
I felt satisfied with my solo-exploration to the outskirts of Midan Tahrir, and I decided to catch the metro. The first metro entrance I met was closed. The second was literally jam-packed with people and I didn't fancy being stuck underground. I gave my aunt a call and she suggested that I go to the next metro station which would be less crowded. I agreed, and made my way through the square - huge mistake!
With every step I took to get to the other metro station, I was unknowlingly pushing myself deeper and deeper into the sea of men standing in the square. Every step I took I thought I was getting closer to leaving the square, but reality soon hit me.
Men were squashed around me on all sides. Some were gentlemenly and let me pass as best as they could in the crowded area. Others, could not be said the same about.
One man grabbed me from behind, so I spun round just in time to see his hand retreating. I looked him in the eye then punched him in the shoulder. He retorted defensively, either pretending or genuinely unsure why this foreign girl just punched him and then started swearing at him. My Egyptian friend who I told about the incident, reassured me that he was most probably the culprit, since he was so defensive about himself.
It was the bearded men who were surprisingly the most gentlemenly, and they made way for me to pass, instead of trying to touch me like the disgusting men behind me were doing.
Soon, I found myself unable to escape. The men towered around me on all sides, and there really was NO WHERE for me to go. A boy about my age told me in English 'You must go. Too crowded'. No, you don't say? 'Where shall I go??????????????????' I screamed to him in Arabic.
Seeing me in desperate need of being rescued, he took me by my wrist and literally fought his way out of the sea of men surrounding us. A few minutes into the escape, a genuine thought came into my head ; 'I'm going die. So here is where it is going to happen, in the heart of Tahrir Square, squashed and suffocated by men.' I truly embraced this thought and calmed myself with the thought that 'We've all got to go sometime'. I guess it should have been shocking how quickly I embraced my possible death.
Actually, after I had this thought, another thought entered my mind. And that was the sort of the two frogs in the tub of milk. One frog gave up trying to escape from the milk, and died. The other one kept paddling his feet in the milk until he churned it into butter, then hopped out into freedom. For a brief second I was going to succumb to being the first, dead, frog. I was going to stop moving and just sit down on the floor, tired of struggling through the sea of bodies. Then, the second frog made its appearance, and I decided to be brave and keep fighting through the crowds.
When I felt a blast of cool wind hit my face, I was so relieved and felt so much gratitude for the man who had led me out, of what I honestly thought would be my death. I shook his hand firmly and thanked him curtly, before he got the idea to try to further any kind of relationship with me.
On my way out of the square, I spied another foreigner girl. She was on her own, taking pictures, and after my ordeal I felt that my social barriers had been demolished, and I just went up to the girl and started talking to her. She was German, but lived in England for the last 6 years, and was working for a newspaper (I think) in Egypt.
To get home, I had to catch the metro that I was going to take if I had just turned right, instead of left and going into tahrir. To get to the metro I had to cross one of the most famous bridges in Cairo - Asr el Nil. There was a loud, noisy fanfare, that I expect will continue all the way into the night, and there were more than frequent shouts of 'Morsy'.
My political opinion of the results (I can't believe I actually wrote, my policial opinion! I never thought I would write that, as I am generally apathetic to British politics, so I extended this belief to all politics. However, coming to Egypt has really shaken things up for me, in terms of how to view the importance of politics for me personally) is that it was better for Morsy to win. This way Egypt has avoided a nasty backlash that would have resulted if Shafik (tied up with the old regime) had won. Morsy, the Muslim Brotherhood candidate, however, is a very weak personality, and I believe that he will be controlled by higher figures, so in effect will be just the puppet in the political arena.
I was quite surprised that the votes were not rigged for Shafik to win though, since it would have been in the best interest of the Supreme Council of Armed Forces for him to win, and they are the ones calling the shots at the moment.
I speculate that Morsy's election will have appeased the rebellious masses, but SCAF will still retain the majority of power, and the president will effectively be powerless - I mean, the Muslim Brotherhood majority parliament was dissolved last week, with a flick of SCAF's wrist, so what's stopping them from doing the same to Morsy? I think may be a month will pass (or less) before the non-existnnece of Morsy's presidential powers will emerge.
I have never been somewhere so crowded in my life. Cars that passed were beeping the 'wedding march' song and others were singing a faintly familiar football tune, but with the word Morsy repeated numerously. The happiness in the air was infectious as groups of teenagers took to dancing in the streets.
I felt satisfied with my solo-exploration to the outskirts of Midan Tahrir, and I decided to catch the metro. The first metro entrance I met was closed. The second was literally jam-packed with people and I didn't fancy being stuck underground. I gave my aunt a call and she suggested that I go to the next metro station which would be less crowded. I agreed, and made my way through the square - huge mistake!
With every step I took to get to the other metro station, I was unknowlingly pushing myself deeper and deeper into the sea of men standing in the square. Every step I took I thought I was getting closer to leaving the square, but reality soon hit me.
Men were squashed around me on all sides. Some were gentlemenly and let me pass as best as they could in the crowded area. Others, could not be said the same about.
One man grabbed me from behind, so I spun round just in time to see his hand retreating. I looked him in the eye then punched him in the shoulder. He retorted defensively, either pretending or genuinely unsure why this foreign girl just punched him and then started swearing at him. My Egyptian friend who I told about the incident, reassured me that he was most probably the culprit, since he was so defensive about himself.
It was the bearded men who were surprisingly the most gentlemenly, and they made way for me to pass, instead of trying to touch me like the disgusting men behind me were doing.
Soon, I found myself unable to escape. The men towered around me on all sides, and there really was NO WHERE for me to go. A boy about my age told me in English 'You must go. Too crowded'. No, you don't say? 'Where shall I go??????????????????' I screamed to him in Arabic.
Seeing me in desperate need of being rescued, he took me by my wrist and literally fought his way out of the sea of men surrounding us. A few minutes into the escape, a genuine thought came into my head ; 'I'm going die. So here is where it is going to happen, in the heart of Tahrir Square, squashed and suffocated by men.' I truly embraced this thought and calmed myself with the thought that 'We've all got to go sometime'. I guess it should have been shocking how quickly I embraced my possible death.
Actually, after I had this thought, another thought entered my mind. And that was the sort of the two frogs in the tub of milk. One frog gave up trying to escape from the milk, and died. The other one kept paddling his feet in the milk until he churned it into butter, then hopped out into freedom. For a brief second I was going to succumb to being the first, dead, frog. I was going to stop moving and just sit down on the floor, tired of struggling through the sea of bodies. Then, the second frog made its appearance, and I decided to be brave and keep fighting through the crowds.
When I felt a blast of cool wind hit my face, I was so relieved and felt so much gratitude for the man who had led me out, of what I honestly thought would be my death. I shook his hand firmly and thanked him curtly, before he got the idea to try to further any kind of relationship with me.
On my way out of the square, I spied another foreigner girl. She was on her own, taking pictures, and after my ordeal I felt that my social barriers had been demolished, and I just went up to the girl and started talking to her. She was German, but lived in England for the last 6 years, and was working for a newspaper (I think) in Egypt.
To get home, I had to catch the metro that I was going to take if I had just turned right, instead of left and going into tahrir. To get to the metro I had to cross one of the most famous bridges in Cairo - Asr el Nil. There was a loud, noisy fanfare, that I expect will continue all the way into the night, and there were more than frequent shouts of 'Morsy'.
My political opinion of the results (I can't believe I actually wrote, my policial opinion! I never thought I would write that, as I am generally apathetic to British politics, so I extended this belief to all politics. However, coming to Egypt has really shaken things up for me, in terms of how to view the importance of politics for me personally) is that it was better for Morsy to win. This way Egypt has avoided a nasty backlash that would have resulted if Shafik (tied up with the old regime) had won. Morsy, the Muslim Brotherhood candidate, however, is a very weak personality, and I believe that he will be controlled by higher figures, so in effect will be just the puppet in the political arena.
I was quite surprised that the votes were not rigged for Shafik to win though, since it would have been in the best interest of the Supreme Council of Armed Forces for him to win, and they are the ones calling the shots at the moment.
I speculate that Morsy's election will have appeased the rebellious masses, but SCAF will still retain the majority of power, and the president will effectively be powerless - I mean, the Muslim Brotherhood majority parliament was dissolved last week, with a flick of SCAF's wrist, so what's stopping them from doing the same to Morsy? I think may be a month will pass (or less) before the non-existnnece of Morsy's presidential powers will emerge.
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