Korba Peace Festival

Korba!

Always so much fun!

Korba is one of the oldest districts in Heliopolis. All these gorgeous old buildings. Sadly, it’s become extremely crowded and annoying, but on one day every year, it becomes a pedestrian street, and it’s true beauty shines through.

All the cafes set their tables outside, bands entertain us up on a stage, kids draw on the street with chalks, and companies fall all over themselves to market their products in the most innovative ways. Entertainment is varied: the traditional tanoura/ oriental dances, and then guitar/ jazz bands. It got way crowded at night, but still vairy fun,

Loves it.

I then went and caught the late screening of Angels and Demons. Neither it or nor the Da Vinci code are my favorite Dan Brown books (that would be Deception point), but it was interesting to see how it played out on screen.

The best part? The fact that the terrorist was no longer an Arab Muslim who hated all Christians and loved raping and killing white western women (real subtle of you there Dan). Instead, he was a Dane. Two thumbs up.

Loser that I am, I decided to google and see what people thought of this. And I came across this delightful piece by anti-Muslim zealot Debbie Schlussel:

“Over the years, I’ve written about the many movies in which Hollywood changes the villain or the terrorist in the original script or novel from a Muslim to something else out of politically correct deference to Islam, the religion of whiners (and ultimately, murderers). Now, Hollywood continues in this tradition. … I’m already learning that ['Angels and Demons'] has been ‘disinfected’ by Islamopanderers (director Ron Howard) not wanting to upset our dear friends in the ‘Religion of Peace,’ who might do something ‘peaceful’ if the movie had stayed true to the book.”

Sigh.

Abu Heidar Moves My Island*

Fun day today.

I sat and I watched the finales of Heroes, America’s next Top Model, and Lost. Soon: Grey’s Anatomy & American Idol. Been to busy this year to catch up with the four series I also follow (Project Runway, House, Prison Break and One Tree Hill) but I’ll be buying their box sets soon and having a marathon watching week.

(SPOILERS!)

Heroes: So sick of Sylar and his weird eyebrows. DIE already won’t you? And the cheerleader has the fakest eyelashes  I’ve ever seen. I can’t concentrate on the show when either of them is on. I keep staring at his eyebrows and her eyelashes. My favorite on this show is most definitely Hiro. Such a cutie pie. Didn’t really mind when Nathan died, since I really didn’t like him much. And can I just say, who changes their mind so often and so quickly?

America’s Next Top Model: Cannot believe Allison didn’t win. Her deer-caught-in-the-headlights eyes were amazing. And I cannot believe that I still watch this show. I hate fat Tyra (kettle. pot. I know) with her over-the-top scripted lines, her weird dresses, and the rigid format of the show. Sick of the judging panel. So over Miss J. My only excuse for watching would be that I’ve watched the previous 11 seasons. It’s kind of like reading a book you hate but are still reading it because you want to know the ending.

Lost: Ah, Lost. You have confounded, bewildered, and amazed me over the years. I am so glad next season is the last one because I am so SICK of the island! Finale was a cheap cliffhanger, but ok. Can’t get over the fact that the Jack-Sawyer-Kate-Juliet combo make these life-threatening, apocalyptic decisions based on their love lives. And hello, Juliet? The guy you’ve been with for three years looks at another women, so you decide he’s leaving you, and then decide it’s better to have never met him so you don’t go through that, and then decide you’d rather DIE than be dumped? Not cool. Kate seems to be a secondary charter now, she never really does anything.

I’m so glad though that we seem to be finally getting more answers than questions. But omg Locke! And the foot statue! And is it just me or was Jacob’s character a kind of let down?

Grey’s Anatomy: I’m guessing Izzy dies today. Bye Bye. Never really liked her much. The only two characters I really love are Bailey and her no-nonsense ways, and Christina, because man she has some serious balls. Total fierceness. I hate Meridith and her whiny commitment issues, ditto George and Lexie for seemingly having no spine.  (On that note, I cannot believe the actress who portrays Lexie just gave birth to her third kid last week. She looks like she’s 15). I’m on the fence with Carev and the two Mcdoctors.

American Idol: Chris’s rendition of Heartless was incredible. Even better than the original. I know I’m going to have that on repeat for a couple of days at least. But I still think Adam’sgoing to win.

* If you aren’t a Lost fan, or a fan of Jen and Liz’s ‘Lost Hour‘ over at the Washington Post, you won’t get it (man, how loser-y does that make me sound?). Abu Heidar is an amazing shawerma shop which, for some reason, also sells the best mango juice. I’m eating its shawerma sandwiches as I write this.

King Kong

Watched half of King Kong while I was in the gym today.

I’d watched it before on DVD because I couldn’t stomach a three-hour-long movie, but I faintly recall that I fast forwarded through all the action scenes.

But today I watched every frame of the dinosaur vs King Kong fight. God, what a bloody fight. And could the heroine be more of a damsel in distress with the worst luck in the world? She escapes one dinosaur for another, then another! But poor King Kong. He saves her from everything and she still runs away from him. Fickle woman.

And what’s with all the sexual tension between her and the monkey? She looks at him and he looks at her. Then he stares into her eyes while she stares into his. We get it.

Wahed Sefr

Just watched the new Egyptian movie, Wahed Sefr, One-Nil.

I usually stay far away from most Egyptian movies, since most are ridiculous attempts at being humorous. I only watch them if they deal with serious topics.

The movie did not disappoint. It followed the lives of 8 down-on-their-luck Egyptians representing different members of the Egyptian community and how their lives intertwine. The poverty, the degradation, and the sheer hopelessness of their lives was clear. And yet, one unique thing about Egyptians was made clear: how football brought them all together and brought some much-needed happiness to their dreary lives. The movie finale takes place on the day of the final match of the African Championship 2008, between Egypt and Cameron, which Egypt won 1-0.

For those who aren’t Egyptian, it’s hard to explain how football brings Egyptians together, how people who couldn’t give two cents about who won or lost suddenly become frenzied when Egypt wins abroad. On that day, I remember how crazy the streets were. Social classes melted, the worries were forgotten, and people partied all night in the streets.

What the streets looked like after Egypt won the African Cup

The one story that really impacted me in the movie was the story of the singer, portrayed by the actress Zeina.

In Egypt, it’s common to make fun of the new generation of ’singers,’ who are basically Barbie dolls who can’t sing, and are chosen purely for how pretty they are/ how much skin they’re willing to show on TV. We make fun of them, criticize them, look down upon them, call them no-talent ‘loose’ women, and yet still watch the videoclips.

There’s one of those singers in the movie, but we get her story: she’s a poor woman who was plucked from obscurity by a rich film producer, who makes her his mistress and exploits her, giving her pennies for her singing.

In one scene, she’s being interviewed on air and she’s asked to sing a famous song. Without the music and the dancing, her voice sounds atrocious and her interviewer sniggers. Then a phone-in comes in from a famous composer, who basically insults her for having no vocals and just a body. She has no idea who she is, and her interviewer laughs. She looks ashamed but after the break comes back strong:

You may laugh at me all you like, and bring your fancy composer to insult me on air. But all I can say is this: if you think I’m so ridiculous, then why are you listening to my tapes? As long as my fans want to listen to me, I’ll sing.

It’s true. We’re hypocritical. As the saying goes, “we love something and we spit on it.”

In another, more heartbreaking scene, she meets her veiled sister, who rips into her telling her that she is a stain on the family honor. She replies:

You think that you are the only pure one and we are all dirty? I think about God every day. But this is the only way I found to make money. Until you find a better one, I don’t want to hear your judgment. God’s judgment is enough for me.

It was an interesting take on the lives of singers. True, for every girl in this situation there are a dozen who aren’t, but it still showed us that there is more than one side to every story.

In general, the characters in the movie were very diverse, and I really liked that they represented many facets of Egyptian society. The veiled girl was not portrayed as a saint, but as a normal girl. The inclusion of a Coptic woman was great since there are a lot of Egyptian Copts, and although a lot of Copts are making a fuss over how the woman was portrayed–considering becoming a Muslim since the church wouldn’t allow her to get married after she got a divorce–but it does happen in reality.

Overall, I give it a 7/10.

Here’s the trailer:

Taken

Today I watched the movie Taken (seem to be watching a lot of movies lately. But that’s since all ‘Egyptian’ outings consist of going to the movies and eating out, I’ve been watching double the amount of movies to compensate for not going out to as many restaurants as I usually do).

Other than the fact the hero of the movie seemed to be a combination of Rambo/ The Terminator/ Van Damme all rolled in one who killed people as if he were swatting flies, it was a pretty good movie.

But it just made my blood boil when he goes to the place where his daughter was being ‘auctioned’ and the guy who ‘buys’ her picks up the phone and starts speaking in Arabic. (He also happens to be wearing more eyeliner than I do at a wedding, but hey). The minute that happened, I could just imagine people’s heads nodding and them thinking ‘yep, of course it’s a sleazy old Arab prince who’s buying her.’ The movie doesn’t even show us a glimpse of the other guys in the auction, which means the focus on the traffickers and their representation is immediately: Arab.

Then when we see the Arab guy, of course he’s old and disgusting, and bought three virgins.

I know it’s a movie, and I know this does happen in reality. But putting it in a movie just reinforces the stereotype, and I hate that. I hate it because watching a bearded man in a movie portrayed as a terrorist actually has more impact on how people will react when they see a bearded guy than if they read a news story about a bearded terrorist.

The message is always subtle, but somehow, it always has to be thrown in there.

Slumdog Millionaire

Just watched it. Ah, ya alby*

Such a depressing movie. I know everyone loved the rags-to-riches story but I couldn’t get over the lives of the children. I know it’s a British movie by a British director, but it still shed light on an issue many of us were unaware of.

It was especially heartbreaking for me because the lives of the children in India mirrored the life of street kids in Egypt. There are so many of them, and their numbers are increasing every year because these kids are giving birth to kids. Everyone is up in arms about the 13 year old boy whose girlfriend just had a kid in the UK, but the LA Times just published a story earlier this month about a 13 year old pregnant street kid in Cairo who already has a two year old daughter , and the story barely made a ripple. It didn’t because we’re so used to it.

A couple of years ago we had the case of El-Torbini, a man who led a street gang of kids, using them to beg, and then raping them (boys and girls) before throwing them off train roofs. Egypt’s version of the Slumdog gang leader Mamman, only 100 times worse. He killed dozens of kids before being caught simply because no one keeps track of street kids. Many of them don’t even have identification. They are born, live and die without ever being registered in the system as having been here. And are buried in unmarked plots.

* Oh, my heart. Basically it means “Ouch, that hurt.”