On the first day of shura elections – for the Egyptian Upper Chamber - thirty Dutch and Flemish students are seated in the library of the Netherlands-Flemish Institute in Cairo (NVIC), listening thoughtfully to the introductory talk to the programme in Arabic and Islamic Studies.
Things have certainly calmed down since last year, when total anarchy reigned in the Egyptian capital. The police had withdrawn from public life, armed gangs roamed the city centre and mobile networks and Internet connections were down. “Things were thrown into complete confusion”, recalls director Kim Duistermaat in her sunny office at the NVIC. “We discovered that we didn’t have all the landline numbers of our forty new students who were living scattered around the city at the time. We had just never considered an outage of the mobile networks.” Because of the unrest, the Institute was closed down immediately for a few weeks and the students were given the opportunity to follow the Arabic and Islamic programme in Rabat or Damascus. However, in April, the latter city became too dangerous to stay in and the eighteen students who staying there at the time were sent home three weeks before the end of the course.
Leiden’s NVIC has been striving to promote the research and education programmes by various Dutch and Belgian universities in the Middle East since1971, but this year additional security measures were taken, such as requiring students to rent apartments on the island of Zamalek, where the Institute is situated, rather than in downtown Cairo. There are other parts of the city, which has approximately ten million inhabitants, where they can acquaint themselves with Egypt just as well.
In the light of last year’s chaos – which didn’t reach the island, for that matter - Duistermaat prefers the students to live within walking distance, just in case the bridges to Zamalek are closed. Besides, the Dutch embassy is only a hundred metres away.
Despite these preventive measures, the students are supposed acquire first hand experience of life and the social developments in Egypt. “They mustn’t become trapped in the ‘Dutch bubble’”, explains Duistermaat with a smile. “It’s important to actually speak to the people here, not just to passers-by, as it will teach them to adjust the image they have of Egypt. Every stone that is thrown on Tahrir Square in newsworthy in the Netherlands, but there is so much more going on here. We live in interesting times.”
A year after the revolution and there are still demonstrations at the Maspiro television building, which has been closed off with barbed wire, and on the other side of the water on Tahrir Square. The real revolution - changing the political and social system and abolishing corruption - is still in full swing, as confirmed by the supporters’ riots on 31 January in Port Said, which left 74 people dead and set off a series of new riots lasting several days. The NVIC do not see any reason to suspend the programme again but have advised students to avoid the city centre for the time being.
The Institute’s work has changed since the revolution, particularly for the archaeologists, explains Duistermaat. And more specifically, the paperwork has changed. “As there have been armed robberies at archaeological digs and finds have been stolen, the Egyptian army has tightened security.” This means that it is more difficult, perhaps impossible, to acquire licences for digs in areas like the Dakhla Oasis in the western desert or Sinai.
After the introduction, the six Leiden students who are attending the NVIC for the second semester of their second Bachelor year, pick up some tahina, pita bread with spicy sesame seed paste, for lunch just round the corner from the Institute. Perched on battered stools, they gather round a small table made of crates in one of the many narrow alleys. Opposite, two portly men have taken up their customary places in cane chairs in front of a shop and are enjoying a smoke.
The students of the Middle Eastern programme admit that Cairo was not their first choice and that they would have preferred to go to Damascus. “The Syrian dialect of Arabic is the most beautiful”, claims Momo Post (19). “But now that I’m here, it’s not too bad.” Her fellow students nod in agreement while tucking into their lunches. Their studies and the NVIC course are more current than ever – last year, the whole region was burning, from Rabat to Manama.
They have not been to Tahrir Square yet. Only Post and Madeleine Pieterse (21), who, before the Port Said tragedy, were the only ones defy the rules and rent an apartment downtown, managed to get close to it a few days after the anniversary of the revolution. “It was pleasant, there were families with children, but as the evening advanced, the mood turned nasty and people were sent away because it was becoming too dangerous.” The others were turned back before they had even reached the Square.
Although they haven’t forgotten the images of the Dutch woman who was accosted on Tahrir Square, the students say they are not frightened. Pieterse adds: “You have to make sure you don’t get stuck in a large crowd, but that is something you can control pretty much.”
For the next three months, the students, predominantly female, will have to learn how to cope with Egyptian men; though most men keep their hands to themselves, most can be very rude. Duistermaat has been in Cairo for six years and realises that the students have to learn to deal with life in Egypt. “Harassment is part of that.” And that is why the introduction is so important. “It’s essential to know how you, as a foreigner, are regarded. You will always stand out from the crowd, so you have to be aware of that.” Clothing is also crucial. “Dress normally, like they do here. No bare shoulders, they see that as a sign of disrespect. If you adapt to the local customs, you can get far as a foreign student. Remember, you wouldn’t wear a bikini to go shopping at home either, would you?”
Despite the great differences to the Netherlands, none of the students are suffering from a culture shock. Although they have to get used to the constant sounding of car horns in the streets, according to Post. “It’s the sound of the city.” The sounds of Cairo, a city that never sleeps and where disorder always reigns, whether there is a revolution or not.