<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997</id><updated>2011-04-22T01:02:21.462+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Julia in Cairo</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>59</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-8721729937940695754</id><published>2007-01-12T11:50:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-04T12:04:22.726+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost &amp; Found Egypte in Amsterdam</title><content type='html'>Vanavond presenteert Lost &amp; Found een speciale EGYPTE avond. Met Ramses door de straten van Cairo, zelfportretten van een glamour fotograaf uit de jaren 40, een vrouw die haar sleutels kwijt is, hetzelfde verhaal door twee mensen verteld, een flaneur, een zonsondergang in Cairo, een filmmaakster en een buschauffeur en live uit Kopenhagen en Berlijn en net terug uit Egypte: J&amp;K!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fvCjSGxtk3c/Rt0d_slVVzI/AAAAAAAAABk/TjBWTVpjRac/s1600-h/lost-egypt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fvCjSGxtk3c/Rt0d_slVVzI/AAAAAAAAABk/TjBWTVpjRac/s400/lost-egypt.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106270532644722482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fvCjSGxtk3c/Rt0eIMlVV0I/AAAAAAAAABs/bfGM7x4A1hQ/s1600-h/lost-egypt2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fvCjSGxtk3c/Rt0eIMlVV0I/AAAAAAAAABs/bfGM7x4A1hQ/s400/lost-egypt2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106270678673610562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flyer: Fileclub&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-8721729937940695754?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/8721729937940695754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/8721729937940695754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2007/01/lost-found-egypte-in-amsterdam.html' title='Lost &amp; Found Egypte in Amsterdam'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fvCjSGxtk3c/Rt0d_slVVzI/AAAAAAAAABk/TjBWTVpjRac/s72-c/lost-egypt.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116613428106926961</id><published>2006-12-14T23:54:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-12-15T00:13:25.430+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Ma’as salaama Nil</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/841/3843/1600/275985/MdR_20061214_2812.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/841/3843/400/305309/MdR_20061214_2812.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dit is voorlopig het einde van dit blog.&lt;br /&gt;Wij vliegen morgenochtend terug naar huis.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116613428106926961?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116613428106926961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116613428106926961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/12/maas-salaama-nil.html' title='Ma’as salaama Nil'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116587952129173909</id><published>2006-12-12T01:21:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-12-12T01:25:21.306+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost and Found in Cairo</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Search:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turn left down a small lane in the Talaat Harb district of downtown Cairo, amidst the grease and bustle of auto repair shops and kosheri stands, and discover a paper trail with the words LOST and FOUND printed on simple 8 x 11 inch white sheets. Like any missing item poster, the haphazardly affixed signs look more like last resorts than tangible possibilities. Yet wander up the sweeping staircase of a dilapidated stone villa and into the renovated library of the Townhouse gallery and you will find this far-reaching hope materialized into reality. A small crowd is casually strewn among a collection of plastic chairs. Too comfortable to look up, they give the impression they have never been lost; perhaps we have just been looking in the wrong places. Most things that we recognize as lost, we quickly begin to think of as unattainable, even impossible. I come with the sole purpose of attending this event and I somehow still feel surprised to find it. Yet, here, tonight, in a city where contemporary art is sparse, controlled, and even censored, this gathering could not seem more natural. The room is narrow and the freshly painted walls only lightly cover the cracks and depressions of time. Like the idea of artistic exchange, the building is far from new. Later in the night, as the crowd thickens, people will have to stand outside the doorway to prevent the fragile, aged floor from falling through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Evening Begins:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A bearded man with a big smile taps my shoulder. His hand, extending from a worn checkered sweater offers an invitation to a show in Alexandria next weekend. Another thin, sprightly girl, with curls that double the size of her face, follows his lead with a glossy picture of her artwork and contact information. The rustling of bags and the volume of collective whispers muffle the uncooperative video playing at the front of the room. The clip starts and stops; a hand holds a mobile phone and searches for the contact, ‘Lost and Found’, onscreen. The crowd occasionally looks around to see if the event has begun, but is otherwise content chatting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Technical difficulties persist. The room is now brimming full. If you are not friends you become friends in waiting. A fedora hat, a nose piercing, an orange wool sweater, and an Islamic veil catch my attention. A silver-haired British woman sits to my right and a young Egyptian man with thickly gelled hair and a bright track jacket takes a seat to my left. “Are you nervous?” Julia van Mourik, curator of the event, wraps her arm around a young woman two rows ahead of me. The artist giggles without reservation. She is comfortable enough to concede that she is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lights turn off. “Ahlan wa sahlan.” “Welcome.” The program begins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Work:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The night contained eight works of varying interest, style, and subject matter, along with two heated debates.&lt;br /&gt;A shaky camera follows an immigrant bus driver in Denmark on his daily route. Through the dark, unfocused lense, we see a relationship emerge between the subject and the artist. Endearingly, he opens up to her and defends her cause when Danish bus riders criticize her right to film.&lt;br /&gt;Na’ima el Misriyya, a once legendary but now forgotten Egyptian singer, is brought back to life through the loving eyes and persistent research of her great-granddaughter. Through faded photographs and restored music and magazine clippings, the artist is able to recreate 1920’s Cairo and the forgotten feminist wave.&lt;br /&gt;One photographer’s literal movement through time and space captures the appearance of color, light, and motion in Cairo’s landscape. Guided by his sensitive eye, we take a journey through the city at sunset. The chosen hour highlights, magnifies, and even glorifies the quiet, simple activities photographed. Another photographer also focuses on color, light, and motion, through abstract palettes. Foregoing literal travel, he jostles his camera to magnify the impression of these elements.&lt;br /&gt;A highly polished film reverses the production, life, and death of white rabbits during the holiday consumption season in order to emphasize the mechanics imposed on the process. The artist spares no angles, explicitly exposing each step. We experience the utilitarianism of society and the suffocation of a natural process.&lt;br /&gt;An A-list Egyptian actress performs a monologue in a student’s independent film project. The character wakes up to go to work one morning and not finding her key, begins to reflect of the myriad problems in her life. Over the course of the film, she moves from the spiraling and overwhelming depths of sadness, anger, and exasperation, to triumphant levity. Upon finding the key, she realizes that it is Friday and she needn’t worry till next week. With a chuckle, she goes back to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most intriguing was the dialogue that developed organically among the audience members. Unmediated and undirected, the audience used the presented pieces as a springboard to discuss larger, conceptual artistic issues present in contemporary debate. Diversity among the work spurred an accusatory and defensive discourse on the definitions of ‘high’ and ‘low’ art and the applicability of such terminology in the ‘Lost and Found’ context. With a range of budgets, experience, mediums, and cultures, it was impossible not to notice wide gaps between the pieces. A film made by a lonely Egyptian artist in Switzerland inspired an emotional discussion over the concept of private and public space and artistic ethics. The filmmaker used the pain and anxiety of a stranger to express his own state of distress. The subject crouches behind a fence by a riverbed, nervously scanning the promenade with darting eyes. Other than his expression, he is motionless, held hostage by his fear. The artist is able to capture the subject only in secret, using a telescopic lense, without consent. The result was an emotional outburst from the audience. Some members were offended by the artist’s appropriation of another’s personal trauma and others were indignant that such a standard should be imposed on a free form of expression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the show, the young girl with the nose piercing and the silver-haired British woman took the discussion out to the streets. They lingered in the stairwell, arms flailing, and brows furrowed locked at a standstill.&lt;br /&gt;Tension, conflict, and communication are inherent to art. I was happy to find them alive and well in Cairo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kira Shewfelt, December 3, 2006.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116587952129173909?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116587952129173909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116587952129173909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/12/lost-and-found-in-cairo.html' title='Lost and Found in Cairo'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116561295482265926</id><published>2006-12-08T23:18:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-12-08T23:24:05.850+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Verrassing</title><content type='html'>Als je de snackbar binnenkomt, staat de ene keer tekst tv op, vormgegeven koran teksten die over het beeld lopen, en de andere keer Music Arabia met videoclips van dansmuziek. Het contrast is groot en er is geen pijl op te trekken wanneer ze wat op hebben staan. Zo kan het zijn dat je 's avonds om elf uur koran teksten te lezen krijgt en dat 's middags heupwiegende meisjes met natte lippen hun haren naar je zwaaien. Het blijft elke keer spannend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116561295482265926?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116561295482265926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116561295482265926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/12/verrassing.html' title='Verrassing'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116548687842223426</id><published>2006-12-07T12:17:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-12-07T12:27:55.473+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Daily Star Egypt on L&amp;F</title><content type='html'>Today's Daily Star Egypt has a good article on Lost &amp;amp; Found Cairo!&lt;br /&gt;http://www.dailystaregypt.com/article.aspx?ArticleID=4324&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116548687842223426?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://wwwhttp://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gif.http://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gifdailystaregypt.com/article.aspx?ArticleID=4324' title='Daily Star Egypt on L&amp;F'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116548687842223426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116548687842223426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/12/daily-star-egypt-on-lf.html' title='Daily Star Egypt on L&amp;F'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116535861984748385</id><published>2006-12-04T23:21:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-12-06T00:43:39.863+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Bekeken worden</title><content type='html'>De Lost &amp; Found-avond gisteren was een succes. Er moesten mensen weggestuurd worden, omdat de eeuwenoude vloer van de bibliotheek dreigde te bezwijken. Er waren veel kritische vragen uit het publiek en er ontstond een felle discussie naar aanleiding van een filmopname die een kunstenaar in Zwitserland had gemaakt. Vanaf zijn balkon filmde hij een jongen die bij een rivier staat. Op de achtergrond hoor je Sufi muziek uit zijn kamer komen. Het blijft lang onduidelijk wat de jongen doet. Door zijn expressieve mimiek denk je in eerste instantie dat hij een acteur is. Hij lijkt in overweging te zijn. Zal hij het hek dat de rivier van de weg scheidt over klimmen? Uiteindelijk klimt hij over het hek en loopt hij langs de weg. Om de paar meter verdwijnt hij uit het zicht van de camera achter een boom. Hij lijkt in paranoïde toestand te zijn, maar ook dat is niet zeker. &lt;br /&gt;Iemand uit het publiek vindt de film smakeloos en meent dat de jongen wordt uitgelachen. Er ontstaat een discussie over het publiekelijk vertonen van filmopnames van personen die in de openbare ruimte gefilmd zijn zonder dat zij dat weten. Zeker van personen die in de war zijn. Iemand vraagt of de kunstenaar deze jongen geholpen had als hij zelfmoord was gaan plegen. De kunstenaar vertelt dat heeft in deze jongen zijn eigen gemoedstoestand verbeeld heeft gezien. Hij heeft zich in Zwitserland eenzaam en misplaatst gevoeld. 'Switzerland is like a big hospital.' &lt;br /&gt;Het lijkt erop dat een avond zonder heftige emoties hier geen geslaagde avond is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116535861984748385?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116535861984748385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116535861984748385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/12/bekeken-worden.html' title='Bekeken worden'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116535562660175335</id><published>2006-12-02T23:46:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-12-05T23:57:26.890+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Forever</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/841/3843/1600/765941/image.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/841/3843/400/114779/image.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/841/3843/1600/867467/image-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/841/3843/400/987648/image-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dit zijn twee &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;stills&lt;/span&gt; die ik kreeg toegestuurd uit &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Forever&lt;/span&gt;, de nieuwe film van Julika Rudelius. Ik ben er erg benieuwd naar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116535562660175335?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116535562660175335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116535562660175335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/12/forever.html' title='Forever'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116535684965136021</id><published>2006-11-29T22:04:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-12-06T00:15:23.770+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Andere werelden</title><content type='html'>Gisteren was er een feestje. J&amp;K twee meisjes uit Kopenhagen en Berlijn gingen weer terug naar huis. Er was bier, er waren hapjes en er was muziek. Ze hadden iedereen uitgenodigd die ze kennen. Er was een groepje van mensen die bij Townhouse werken, twee bodybuilders (Dat is hier net zoiets als een hanenkam dragen. Dan ben je heel raar en eng en bijzonder.), een man van een reisbureau, een meisje met een hoofddoekje en de jongen die de koffie bezorgd in Townhouse. Ze hebben geen woord met elkaar gewisseld. Het was te raar voor ze om met z'n allen in één kamer te zijn. De koffiejongen en het meisje met het hoofddoekje gingen na 20 minuten weg en de bodybuilders bleven in een hoek van de kamer zitten.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116535684965136021?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116535684965136021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116535684965136021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/11/andere-werelden.html' title='Andere werelden'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116441233704441385</id><published>2006-11-26T16:48:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-11-26T16:55:59.483+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Flyer ganzeer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/841/3843/1600/439345/DSC02845.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/841/3843/400/919892/DSC02845.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116441233704441385?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116441233704441385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116441233704441385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/11/flyer-ganzeer.html' title='Flyer ganzeer'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116423895570025568</id><published>2006-11-23T01:38:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-11-23T01:45:54.016+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Dolgedraaide kermis</title><content type='html'>Kaïro is één grote dolgedraaide kermis. Alles is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;portable&lt;/span&gt;. En alles is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hop-on&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hop-off&lt;/span&gt; en razendsnel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116423895570025568?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116423895570025568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116423895570025568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/11/dolgedraaide-kermis.html' title='Dolgedraaide kermis'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116423737327350938</id><published>2006-11-21T23:13:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-11-23T01:16:13.290+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Digitaal gestemd</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/841/3843/1600/496016/MdR_20061121_1574.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/841/3843/400/803194/MdR_20061121_1574.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116423737327350938?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116423737327350938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116423737327350938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/11/digitaal-gestemd.html' title='Digitaal gestemd'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116397873599008343</id><published>2006-11-20T01:05:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-11-20T01:43:42.843+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Star Victoria</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed style="width:400px; height:326px;" id="VideoPlayback" align="middle" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=5479554995194900726&amp;hl=nl" quality="best" bgcolor="#ffffff" scale="noScale" salign="TL" flashvars="playerMode=embedded"&gt; &lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Victoria op de Winter &amp; Hörbelt opening in ACAF.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116397873599008343?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116397873599008343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116397873599008343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/11/star-victoria.html' title='Star Victoria'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116397267649356036</id><published>2006-11-19T23:35:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-11-20T21:18:05.046+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Handig</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/1600/MdR_20061119_1509.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/400/MdR_20061119_1509.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In deze stad zijn de terrasjes &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;portable.&lt;/span&gt; Daar waar je staat, wordt een plastic stoel en een piepklein ijzeren tafeltje met je bestelling neergezet. In de Talat Harb Street staat een jongetje met twee mobiele telefoons. Achter hem staat een bordje, voor 75 cent per minuut kun je bij hem bellen. En hier op de markt kun je sigaretten per stuk kopen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116397267649356036?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116397267649356036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116397267649356036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/11/handig.html' title='Handig'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116360450692331092</id><published>2006-11-15T17:27:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T17:37:35.003+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Marketing truuk</title><content type='html'>Soms leef je hier nogal in een nieuwsvacuum. Omdat er over veel dingen niet geschreven wordt, ben je afhankelijk van de verhalen die de ronde doen. Die nemen soms de raarste vormen aan. Niemand drinkt hier bijvoorbeeld Coca Cola (de stommerds) omdat iemand had bedacht dat het arabische logo omgekeerd gelezen een belediging voor Mohammed vormt. Nu drinken ze bebs, Pepsi.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116360450692331092?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116360450692331092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116360450692331092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/11/marketing-truuk.html' title='Marketing truuk'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116359190517396310</id><published>2006-11-15T13:55:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T13:58:25.186+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Piramiden met vliegtuig</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/1600/pyramidenmetvliegtuig.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/400/pyramidenmetvliegtuig.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116359190517396310?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116359190517396310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116359190517396310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/11/piramiden-met-vliegtuig.html' title='Piramiden met vliegtuig'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116354189188508565</id><published>2006-11-15T00:01:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T00:04:51.896+02:00</updated><title type='text'>تاهت ولقينها</title><content type='html'>Next Lost &amp; Found will take place 3 December in Townhouse Cairo! More info: http://www.lost.nl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116354189188508565?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116354189188508565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116354189188508565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/11/blog-post.html' title='تاهت ولقينها'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116360725206802634</id><published>2006-11-14T18:13:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T18:23:26.750+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Door het dolle heen</title><content type='html'>Er is hier een rel vanwege een doorgeslagen groep mannen die tijdens Eid alle vrouwen in een winkelstraat heeft lastig gevallen. Hoofddoeken en kleren afgerukt. Er is hier geen sex voor het huwelijk. De politie ontkent het en de kranten zwijgen er over, dus wij hebben het pas langzaam viavia gehoord. Vandaag is een demonstratie tegen het inadequate optreden van het politiebureau Kasr El Nil door de militaire politie uiteengeslagen. De rellen schijnen ontstaan te zijn doordat een bioscoop overboekt was. De mannen die de film niet in konden waar ze wel voor betaald hadden, koelden hun woede eerst op de ruiten van de bioscoop en later op de passerende vrouwen. &lt;br /&gt;Ons vijfde kindermeisje, een Roemeense die Grieks en Latijn in het Arabisch studeert, heeft de volgende versie: Er was een optreden van een popster. Die ging in popster outfit, praktisch naakt dus, op het dak van een auto staan dansen. Daardoor raakte alle mannen begrijpelijkerwijs door het dolle heen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://http://www.dailystaregypt.com/article.aspx?ArticleID=3946"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.dailystaregypt.com/article.aspx?ArticleID=3946&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116360725206802634?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gif' title='Door het dolle heen'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116360725206802634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116360725206802634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/11/door-het-dolle-heen.html' title='Door het dolle heen'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116341248921164010</id><published>2006-11-13T12:06:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T12:08:09.213+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Bange bawab</title><content type='html'>Sinds een week grendelen alle bawab's in de stad 's nachts de deuren af. Niemand weet waarom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116341248921164010?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116341248921164010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116341248921164010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/11/bange-bawab.html' title='Bange bawab'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116341227275008964</id><published>2006-11-12T01:51:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T16:28:39.973+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Story Telling</title><content type='html'>Egypte is een fantastisch land. Magie, bijgeloof en fantasie lopen over in de werkelijkheid. Misschien dat ook het gebrek aan objectieve nieuwsgaring bijdraagt aan het onstaan van verhalen. Neem het verhaal over hoe het eerste personeel bij Townhouse terecht kwam. Er was een belangrijke tentoonstelling van de British Arts Council die goed bewaakt moest worden. Ze huurden drie bewakers van een beveiligingsbedrijf, die ze samen met de kunstwerken opsloten. De volgende ochtend, toen de deur open ging, bleek dat de bewakers 's nachts in een gevecht verwikkeld waren geraakt. Ze hebben toen de minst gehavende uitgekozen om er te blijven werken en die werkt er nog steeds.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116341227275008964?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116341227275008964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116341227275008964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/11/story-telling.html' title='Story Telling'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116351988228322798</id><published>2006-11-11T17:51:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T16:32:18.073+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Gevonden</title><content type='html'>Gisteren was Lost &amp; Found in Alex, het was een merkwaardige avond. Er waren heel erg veel mensen in het oude stadshuis van ACAF. Veel jonge kunstenaars. De sfeer was erg goed. Constant introduceerde zijn video live via skype, 'amazing', Hadeel was de hit van de avond. Na een onmogelijk abstract verhaal over een schaduw project dat ontstaan was toen ze met vier andere Midden Oosterse kunstenaars uitgenodigd was in Kopenhagen, liet ze de film zien die het product was van de workshop die ze daar gevolgd had. Via haar camera volgen we een buschauffeur. Zij vraagt of ze hem mag filmen en hij gaat akkoord. Dan stappen er twee Deense vrouwen in die niet gefilmd willen worden.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116351988228322798?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116351988228322798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116351988228322798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/11/gevonden.html' title='Gevonden'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116354431079268020</id><published>2006-11-10T23:39:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T16:40:01.233+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Flyers in ACAF</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/1600/MdR_20061109_0905.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/400/MdR_20061109_0905.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A time line of flyers fills three rooms of ACAF's city house. &lt;br /&gt;The collection of Lost &amp; Found flyers will be on view at ACAF from 10 till 15 November  (opening times: Tuesday-Sunday 3-9 PM).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116354431079268020?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116354431079268020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116354431079268020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/11/flyers-in-acaf.html' title='Flyers in ACAF'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116354392665392411</id><published>2006-11-09T12:35:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T00:53:31.866+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Corniche</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/1600/MdR_20061109_0888.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/400/MdR_20061109_0888.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116354392665392411?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116354392665392411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116354392665392411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/11/corniche.html' title='Corniche'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116276810982102277</id><published>2006-11-06T00:33:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2006-11-07T21:01:11.816+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Flyer L&amp;F</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/1600/lostalex01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/400/lostalex01.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/1600/lostalex2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/400/lostalex2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zes dagen per week lopen er koopmannen door de straten van Alexandrie, "Ietne. Ietne." klinkt het. Ze roepen de bewoners van de stad op hun oude spullen te verkopen. Een dag per week, op vrijdag stallen zij hun waren uit op de markt.&lt;br /&gt;Ahmed Foula maakte 127 verschillende kaartjes met foto's van de markt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116276810982102277?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116276810982102277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116276810982102277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/11/flyer-lf_06.html' title='Flyer L&amp;F'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116360411950464324</id><published>2006-11-01T22:20:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T17:21:59.516+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Opvallend onopvallend</title><content type='html'>Vandaag op 1 november hebben ineens alle politieagenten hun witte zomeruniform verruild voor een zwarte. Inclusief wollen trui. Dus het gaat nog kouder worden, denk ik. Het is wel raar. Omdat er zo ongelooflijk veel politie op straat is, is het straatbeeld ineens veranderd van wit naar zwart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116360411950464324?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116360411950464324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116360411950464324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/11/opvallend-onopvallend.html' title='Opvallend onopvallend'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116181761440564447</id><published>2006-10-26T00:54:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-10-30T12:19:34.246+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Politiek gevoelig</title><content type='html'>Er zijn nu twee exposities in Townhouse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/1600/MDR_20061023_0159.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/400/MDR_20061023_0159.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/1600/MDR_20061023_0161.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/400/MDR_20061023_0161.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Koshari min Zamman&lt;/span&gt; van Ayman Ramadan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/1600/MDR_20061023_0157.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/400/MDR_20061023_0157.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;A Place of Crisis&lt;/span&gt; van Magdy Othman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welke van deze twee ligt politiek gevoelig?&lt;br /&gt;De werken van hout.&lt;br /&gt;(Wordt vervolgd - Ik ben nu naar Luxor.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116181761440564447?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116181761440564447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116181761440564447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/10/politiek-gevoelig.html' title='Politiek gevoelig'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116181663139251983</id><published>2006-10-25T23:47:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-10-26T00:50:31.393+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Paniek</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/1600/MDR_20061022_0155.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/400/MDR_20061022_0155.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ik begrijp niets van de gebruiksaanwijzing van de brandblussers in de metro. Wat is bijvoorbeeld het verschil tussen het tweede plaatje links en het vierde plaatje rechts?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116181663139251983?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116181663139251983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116181663139251983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/10/paniek.html' title='Paniek'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116181594525832208</id><published>2006-10-24T23:33:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-10-26T00:53:14.923+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Nieuw maan</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/1600/MdR_20061024_0229.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/400/MdR_20061024_0229.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vandaag is het einde van de ramadam: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Eid al-Fitr&lt;/span&gt;, een feest dat drie dagen duurt. Er is niet zoveel aan. Alles is dicht; overdag is het uitgestorven op straat. 's Avond lopen er grote groepen zich vervelende jongeren rond. Gisteren was er een relletje op het plein hier om de hoek. Een meisje kreeg ruzie met een groepje jongens. Er werd geduwd en getrokken. Net op het moment dat het uit de hand leek te lopen, grepen er een paar agenten in. Zo gaat dat elke keer. Het laait snel op, maar wordt ook snel gesust.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116181594525832208?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116181594525832208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116181594525832208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/10/nieuw-maan.html' title='Nieuw maan'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116181632904901193</id><published>2006-10-23T22:41:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-10-26T00:45:29.050+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Coffee Shop</title><content type='html'>Kaïro stikt van de &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ahwas&lt;/span&gt;; koffiehuizen waar je voor geen geld koffie en thee kunt drinken of een &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sheesha&lt;/span&gt; kunt roken. Maar wat hier het summum is, is een coffee shop westerse stijl. Overal in de stad duiken ze op. Ze heten Costa Coffee, Cilantro en Beano's. Ze zien eruit als de Starbucks, de service is slecht, het eten en drinken is er vies en het is er duur. Een thee is tien keer zo duur als in een koffiehuis. Toch zijn ze altijd druk en worden we regelmatig uitgenodigd naar een 'speciale coffee shop' te gaan.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116181632904901193?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116181632904901193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116181632904901193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/10/coffee-shop.html' title='Coffee Shop'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116155547432685655</id><published>2006-10-22T23:46:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-10-23T00:41:36.463+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Tweedehands nieuws</title><content type='html'>Door de stad verspreid staan overal tijdschriftenstalletjes. Ze zien er &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;portable&lt;/span&gt; uit, zodat ze de boel snel kunnen opbreken als de politie langskomt. Ze verkopen Egyptische bladen en kranten, maar ook buitenlandse bladen; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Time Magazine&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Vogue&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Marie Claire&lt;/span&gt; etc. Een tijdje geleden kwam ik er achter dat in Downtown alle glossy's die er uitgestald staan tweedehands zijn. Er stond een Duitse &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Vogue&lt;/span&gt; van juli 2006 en een Amerikaanse &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;V Magazine&lt;/span&gt; van augustus. Het was me in eerst instantie helemaal niet opgevallen, maar nu ik er op let, zie ik dat ze alleen op het westerse eiland Zamalik nieuwe westerse tijdschriften verkopen. De rest van de stad loopt minstens twee maanden achter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116155547432685655?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116155547432685655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116155547432685655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/10/tweedehands-nieuws.html' title='Tweedehands nieuws'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116155587958365845</id><published>2006-10-21T22:23:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-10-23T00:42:19.653+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Privé aangelegendheid</title><content type='html'>Een tijdje geleden hebben we onze was laten doen door de magwaggi's. Vandaag zijn we er achter gekomen dat we onze onderbroeken niet door hen hadden moeten laten wassen. Iemand vertelde het ons. Dat is privé. Dat doen mensen hier niet. Mannen onderbroeken met pijpjes kunnen ook niet, shorts wel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116155587958365845?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116155587958365845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116155587958365845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/10/priv-aangelegendheid.html' title='Privé aangelegendheid'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116120999829032483</id><published>2006-10-18T23:17:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-10-19T12:20:26.306+02:00</updated><title type='text'>First Lost &amp; Found in Egypt</title><content type='html'>The first Lost &amp; Found in Egypt will take place in Alexandria! L&amp;amp;F Adam-Alex will be hosted by ACAF of Bassam and Mona, a beautiful space supported by the very small and cool Alex arts-scene. More info: &lt;a href="http://www.lost.nl"&gt;http://www.lost.nl&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116120999829032483?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116120999829032483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116120999829032483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/10/first-lost-found-in-egypt.html' title='First Lost &amp; Found in Egypt'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116126112008811317</id><published>2006-10-18T15:25:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-10-19T15:04:59.040+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Het vierde kindermeisje</title><content type='html'>Ons vierde kindermeisje heeft er nu ook de brui aan gegegeven. Volgens de tussenpersoon omdat ze geen Engels spreekt. Volgens haarzelf omdat het werk lichamelijk te zwaar is (Ze was hier 1,5 uur, waarvan Victoria drie kwartier sliep, in haar bedje wel te verstaan). Maar wij denken dat het is omdat Misha op een gegeven moment thuis kwam en een glimp van haar heeft opgevangen (Hij is natuurlijk in een andere kamer gaan zitten). Het onderzoek zet zich voort.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116126112008811317?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116126112008811317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116126112008811317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/10/het-vierde-kindermeisje.html' title='Het vierde kindermeisje'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116107909191553862</id><published>2006-10-16T23:57:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T11:58:11.926+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Music in the Street</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed style="width:400px; height:326px;" id="VideoPlayback" align="middle" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=-5011959196575733315&amp;hl=nl" quality="best" bgcolor="#ffffff" scale="noScale" salign="TL" flashvars="playerMode=embedded"&gt; &lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116107909191553862?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116107909191553862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116107909191553862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/10/music-in-street.html' title='Music in the Street'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116102993857044838</id><published>2006-10-15T22:15:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T22:31:10.393+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Roger Moore in Alexandrië</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/1600/MDR_20061013_946.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/400/MDR_20061013_946.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gespot! Roger Moore is met zijn vrouw, vriendin? in Alexandrië geweest. Deze foto hing in een restaurant. Kofi Anan is er trouwens ook geweest en de koningin van Spanje.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116102993857044838?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116102993857044838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116102993857044838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/10/roger-moore-in-alexandri.html' title='Roger Moore in Alexandrië'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116102969051715755</id><published>2006-10-14T22:09:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T22:26:34.876+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Alexandrië</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/1600/MDR_20061013_943.2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/400/MDR_20061013_943.2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nu ik in Alexandrië ben, merk ik pas wat een maand Kaïro met je doet. Al dat stof vormt een dun laagje tussen jou en de buitenwereld. De corniche van Alexandrië wordt door Michael Palin omschreven als 'Cannes with acne'. De stad doet mij denken aan wat je over Algiers leest in Camus' l'Etranger: een levendige, slecht onderhouden Mediterrane stad. Mooie boulevard, frisse lucht, verse vis, nieuwe bibliotheek, leuke kunstscene!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116102969051715755?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116102969051715755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116102969051715755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/10/alexandri.html' title='Alexandrië'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116072964523023773</id><published>2006-10-13T10:51:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-10-13T10:54:05.243+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Opening</title><content type='html'>Gisteravond liep ik op straat toen ik in de verte een gebouw zag met enorme slierten van lichtjes. Daar is wat aan de hand, dacht ik. Eenmaal aangekomen zag ik dat het om de opening van een nieuwe kledingwinkel ging. Op de kleden die op straat waren neergelegd stond een grote groep mensen. Op de stoep naast de winkel was een rijtje met stoelen neergezet waar vier mannen met witte tulbanden en een man met een wit gebreid mutsje op z'n hoofd zaten. Op de stoep voor de winkel was een man de kwade geesten uit aan het drijven met wierook. De winkel was met een lint met roosjes verzegeld maar er kropen al vrouwen onder het lint door de helverlichte ruimte in. Een tv ploeg was aan het filmen. Ze maakten een close up van het naambordje: shop 2000.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116072964523023773?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116072964523023773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116072964523023773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/10/opening.html' title='Opening'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116064869289627608</id><published>2006-10-12T11:56:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T17:52:51.813+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Zelfwerkzaamheid</title><content type='html'>We krijgen hier van alle kanten hulp aangeboden. Iemands assisteert ons drie dagen per week. Hij introduceert ons bij de makwaggi's en de schoonmaakster, helpt ons met het kopen van een matras, een babybedje en een simkaart. En iemand past op Victoria. De assistent komt zijn afspraken niet na. Het blijkt dat hij overdag niet werkt tijdens de ramadan. De oppas is ziek, of te druk of te laat. Na drie weken kom ik er achter dat je hier zo min mogelijk afhankelijk van anderen moet zijn; je kunt het het beste zelf doen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116064869289627608?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116064869289627608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116064869289627608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/10/zelfwerkzaamheid.html' title='Zelfwerkzaamheid'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116065232971045510</id><published>2006-10-10T13:23:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T14:10:40.260+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Stoere vrouw</title><content type='html'>Ze is een stoere jonge vrouw. Ze lijkt een beetje norsig, maar als je haar beter leert kennen, blijkt dat ze een aanstekelijk cynisch gevoel voor humor heeft. Ze heeft een zware stem. Ze draagt geen hoofddoek. Ze heeft bijna alleen jongens als vrienden en is op alle feestjes stoned. "Ha, Ha," zegt ze, als ik vraag hoe ze dat doet. Mijn ouders wonen in Alexandrïe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116065232971045510?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116065232971045510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116065232971045510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/10/stoere-vrouw.html' title='Stoere vrouw'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116065137170874194</id><published>2006-10-09T13:08:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T13:28:39.153+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Aanrijding</title><content type='html'>Vandaag vertelt iemand me dat hij in een bus zat toen de bus een overstekende vrouw aanreed. De vrouw lag gewond op straat. Ze is toen de bus in gehezen en de bus is met passagiers en al naar het ziekenhuis gereden.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116065137170874194?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116065137170874194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116065137170874194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/10/aanrijding.html' title='Aanrijding'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116066312360086940</id><published>2006-10-08T23:18:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T16:27:48.996+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Penthouse</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/1600/MDR_20061008_694.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/400/MDR_20061008_694.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vandaag was ik op een dakterrasfeestje in het penthouse op de tiende verdieping. Iemand vertelde me dat het in de jaren dertig gebouwd is voor de bawab (conciërge). Het gebouw is ontworpen door een Italiaanse architect in opdracht van een rijke familie. Toen de ouders in een verkeersongeluk om het leven kwamen, hebben zoon en dochter intrek genomen in het appartement op de eerste verdieping. Hij is de beste kunstenaar van Egypte en heeft in de Japanse woonkamer een vide gebouwd waar zijn bed staat. Het penthouse heeft jarenlang leeggestaan (Egyptenaren geven niet zo om uitzicht) tot de huidige bewoner ervan hoorde en het wilde huren. Op het feestje ging ook het verhaal de ronde dat er een bar bestaat waar een aap hasj voor je haalt als je hem mee laat roken.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116066312360086940?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116066312360086940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116066312360086940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/10/penthouse.html' title='Penthouse'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116042924669870707</id><published>2006-10-07T23:24:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-10-09T23:28:30.203+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Geen ontsnappen aan</title><content type='html'>Je kunt niet aan de stad ontsnappen.&lt;br /&gt;Dat je bijvoorbeeld niet even naar een rustig park kunt gaan.&lt;br /&gt;of naar de bioscoop&lt;br /&gt;of een platenzaak&lt;br /&gt;of een goede boekhandel&lt;br /&gt;of een lekker restaurant&lt;br /&gt;of fijne broodjeszaak&lt;br /&gt;dat gezwerm van al die mensen de hele tijd.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116042924669870707?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116042924669870707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116042924669870707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/10/geen-ontsnappen-aan.html' title='Geen ontsnappen aan'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116023452311831844</id><published>2006-10-06T17:15:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-10-19T00:23:22.393+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Website over Egypte</title><content type='html'>Vandaag kwam ik deze supergoeie &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;vrijdagkrant&lt;/span&gt;-stijl website over Egypte van Lonneke, Cindy en Iris tegen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.jerm.nl/verslageniris/egypte.asp"&gt;http://www.jerm.nl/verslageniris/egypte.asp&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116023452311831844?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.jerm.nl/verslageniris/egypte.asp' title='Website over Egypte'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116023452311831844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116023452311831844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/10/website-over-egypte.html' title='Website over Egypte'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116065080008100085</id><published>2006-10-05T12:58:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T13:00:00.090+02:00</updated><title type='text'>6th of October</title><content type='html'>The government announced this week a national holiday on Thursday. Because the 6th of October, Armed Forces Day in commemoration of the Yom Kippur War with Israel, is on a Friday this year. A lot of schools and institutions already announced Sunday as a day-of. So all of a sudden there is a four-days holiday.&lt;br /&gt;This is the second time since we are here the government makes a short term decision like this. A few weeks ago they announced the clock was to be set back an hour in two days. We hear people partying in the streets until early this morning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116065080008100085?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116065080008100085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116065080008100085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/10/6th-of-october.html' title='6th of October'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-115997114246992765</id><published>2006-10-03T19:06:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-10-05T00:50:41.776+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Nijlslib</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/1600/MDR_20061003_624.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/400/MDR_20061003_624.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dit is het beroemde Nijlslib. Het vruchtbare slib wordt door de rivier vanuit de hoogvlaktes in Ethiopië naar de woestijn gebracht. Door de bouw van de Nasserdam treedt de Nijl niet meer buiten haar oevers. Er wordt gesproken van een ecologische ramp. Het reservoir bij de dam wordt gebruikt om energie op te wekken. Maar een veel groter gedeelte van de water dan berekend, verdampt. De rivier slibt steeds meer dicht. Bovendien dicht het slib niet meer jaarlijks de holen van muizen en ratten, waardoor er plagen ontstaan, ook van roofvogels en slangen. De eens vruchtbare rivierbeddingen zijn volgebouwd.&lt;br /&gt;Volgens een vrouw in een nijaab die onze studio kwam binnenlopen was het Nasser's strategie geweest Egypte afhankelijk te maken van Amerikaanse voedselhulp. Als ze me een kaart van Egypte laat zien, kom ik er met een schok achter dat ik de contouren van het land nog niet goed ken. Ik zie Egypte nog altijd als het stroomgebied van de Nijl.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-115997114246992765?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/115997114246992765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/115997114246992765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/10/nijlslib.html' title='Nijlslib'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-115996357015875035</id><published>2006-10-02T21:42:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-10-04T16:15:22.910+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Schoonmaakster</title><content type='html'>Vandaag kwam de schoonmaakster. Van te voren was ik al gewaarschuwd. Als ik haar zou zien, zou ik denken dat zij onmogelijk in staat is een huis schoon te maken. Maar zij doet dat al vanaf haar zesde. Ze haalt het hele huis ondersteboven en maakt werkelijk alles schoon. Zij is de beste. &lt;br /&gt;Toen ik de deur open deed zag ik een aardige vrouw van een jaar of zestig. Niets geen kreupele bejaarde. Even later kwam iemand met de lift haar schoonmaak attributen brengen. Een emmer vol bezems en dweilen en een plumeau. Met een gerust hart trok in de deur achter me dicht.&lt;br /&gt;Toen ik 's avonds terugkwam bleek dat de keuken en de badkamer nog even vies waren en dat ze alle ramen tegen elkaar open had gezet waardoor het hele huis onder een laagje stof lag. Overal lagen veertjes van haar plumeau. Wel waren de glazen tafeltjes brandschoon gepoetst.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-115996357015875035?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/115996357015875035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/115996357015875035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/10/schoonmaakster.html' title='Schoonmaakster'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-115997221202257044</id><published>2006-10-01T23:27:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-10-05T00:53:03.643+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Slijterij</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/1600/MDR_20061002_573.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/400/MDR_20061002_573.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onze slijter heeft besloten de ramadan te gebruiken om een flinke verbouwing uit te voeren.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-115997221202257044?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/115997221202257044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/115997221202257044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/10/slijterij.html' title='Slijterij'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116000245044384137</id><published>2006-09-30T23:53:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-10-05T00:54:10.443+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Ramadanroken</title><content type='html'>Ayman vertelde me dat hij met het vasten breken elke avond als eerste drie sigaretten achter elkaar rookt. Ik moet er niet aan denken. Na een hele dag niet drinken in deze vervuilde, stoffige stad is je keel zo droog als gort.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116000245044384137?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116000245044384137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116000245044384137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/09/ramadanroken.html' title='Ramadanroken'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-115996508538883572</id><published>2006-09-29T14:12:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-10-04T16:34:00.530+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Etalage</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/1600/MDR_20061002_545.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/400/MDR_20061002_545.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deze winkel zit in een mooi jaren dertig pand midden op de Midan Talaat Harb. Dit moet ooit het sjiekste plein van de stad zijn geweest. In de originele houten winkelkasten ligt in plastic verpakt textiel. Verveelde tienermeisjes openen de verpakking op verzoek. Als een broek te groot is, gebaren ze bijna geïrriteerd dat je de pijpen toch om kunt slaan. Zouden zij de kleuterschool-stijl slingers gemaakt hebben die in de etalages hangen?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-115996508538883572?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/115996508538883572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/115996508538883572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/09/etalage.html' title='Etalage'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-115939761810993964</id><published>2006-09-28T00:50:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-09-28T01:04:30.166+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Moving Picture</title><content type='html'>Every morning I say Sa bach El Gir to the makwaggis in front of our house. They are iron men and collect our dirty laundry and deliver it the next day. Today they wanted me to take a picture with my videocamera.                                         &lt;embed style="width: 400px; height: 326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=-2657125585333841894&amp;amp;hl=nl" quality="best" bgcolor="#ffffff" scale="noScale" salign="TL" flashvars="playerMode=embedded" align="middle"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-115939761810993964?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/115939761810993964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/115939761810993964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/09/moving-picture.html' title='Moving Picture'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-116066437875653637</id><published>2006-09-27T15:43:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T16:48:12.716+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Prullenbak</title><content type='html'>"Do you have a garbige bin?" vraag ik aan de geuniformde meneer bij de &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;roadblock&lt;/span&gt; onderweg naar het Egyptisch Museum. Zonder terughoudendheid pakt hij de bananenschil uit mijn hand en zegt, "Yes." En met een sluwe lach gooit hij de schil met een sierlijke boog over zijn schouder over het hek van het ernaast gelegen bouwterein.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-116066437875653637?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116066437875653637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/116066437875653637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/09/prullenbak.html' title='Prullenbak'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-115929536356649615</id><published>2006-09-26T20:27:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-09-26T22:30:35.493+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Egyptisch Nederlands</title><content type='html'>Rond het Egyptisch Museum spreken Egyptenaren toeristen aan. Ze leren elkaar Nederlandse zinnen:&lt;br /&gt;Mijn oom woonde in Groningen! Hij is fan van Rita Corita.&lt;br /&gt;Mijn broer werkt op de zwarte markt in Beverwijk!&lt;br /&gt;Mijn oom heeft gewerkt met Sonja Barend in Hilversum!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-115929536356649615?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/115929536356649615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/115929536356649615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/09/egyptisch-nederlands.html' title='Egyptisch Nederlands'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-115929393802084164</id><published>2006-09-25T21:59:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T16:34:29.043+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Eerste tand - First tooth</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/1600/MDR_20060926_346.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/400/MDR_20060926_346.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In het Egyptisch Museum kwam ik er achter dat Victoria een tand heeft!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the Egyptian Museum I found out Victoria has a tooth!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-115929393802084164?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/115929393802084164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/115929393802084164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/09/eerste-tand-first-tooth.html' title='Eerste tand - First tooth'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-115913607977196605</id><published>2006-09-24T22:19:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-09-26T20:42:13.400+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Vandaag is de ramadan begonnen</title><content type='html'>Van half zes 's ochtends tot zeven uur 's avonds eten, drinken en roken moslims niet, ze hebben ook geen sex. 's Middags al dringt de geur van linzensoep ons huis binnen. Iedereen is aan het koken.&lt;br /&gt;Je zou de openingscène van &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Vanilla Sky in Cairo&lt;/span&gt; kunnen opnemen vandaag, zo stil is het op straat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-115913607977196605?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/115913607977196605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/115913607977196605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/09/vandaag-is-de-ramadan-begonnen.html' title='Vandaag is de ramadan begonnen'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-115913525359553411</id><published>2006-09-23T20:54:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-09-25T00:04:09.256+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Stadskalf</title><content type='html'>We lopen op straat hier om de hoek van ons huis als ik een geluid hoor dat mijn aandacht trekt. Ik weet niet meteen waarom. Maar als ik het opnieuw hoor, begrijp ik het. Het is het geluid van een dier, hier midden in de stad. Maar welk dier? Mijn ogen speuren de straat af. Dan zie ik het. Een kalf staat vastgebonden aan een parkeermeter aan de overkant van de straat. Het is een groot, harig, bruin beest. Zijn loei is laag en doordringend.&lt;br /&gt;Als we een paar uur later terugkomen lig er naast de parkeermeter een grote plas bloed en poep en hebben de mannen in de slagerij een hoogoplopende ruzie met elkaar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-115913525359553411?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/115913525359553411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/115913525359553411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/09/stadskalf_23.html' title='Stadskalf'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-115893687897213635</id><published>2006-09-22T16:48:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-09-22T19:30:44.140+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Pharaonic Personal Analysis</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"&gt; Today we visit the Cairo Tower. It was build in the sixties with American money mend to buy US arms. The tower is 187 meter tall and is made of granite. It ranks fourth among the worlds highest towers. It is said to imitate a lotus plant.&lt;br /&gt;To the late President Gamal Abdul Nasser, the tower's restaurant was the best place to dine out. He used to go there together with his family. Today, the restaurant is a shabby place. We are the only ones there. The tables are cracked and the green-white checkered table-clothes are dirty. A guy with a Pharaonic head-wear comes up to us, he wants to know if we want to buy a Pharaonic Personal Analysis. We do so for 5 months-old Victoria. The analysis seems to be very accurate, although we guessed her favorite color to be yellow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/87535397@N00/249699843/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.flickr.com/87/249699843_6b421d00b7_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px;font-size:0;" &gt;  &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/87535397@N00/249699843/"&gt;Pharaonic Personal Analysis&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/87535397@N00/"&gt;juliavm&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-115893687897213635?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/115893687897213635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/115893687897213635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/09/pharaonic-personal-analysis_22.html' title='Pharaonic Personal Analysis'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-115893712376159441</id><published>2006-09-21T17:56:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T16:07:37.353+02:00</updated><title type='text'>View from our studio</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/1600/view%20from%20our%20studio.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/400/view%20from%20our%20studio.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/1600/view%20from%20our%20studio.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onze studio is op de eerste verdieping van Townhouse. Het is het centrum van de buurt, die een openlucht garage is. Voor onze deur repareren ze gaten en deuken met roze kunsthars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our studio is in the heart of the auto mechanic area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/841/3843/1600/view%20from%20our%20studio.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-115893712376159441?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/115893712376159441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/115893712376159441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/09/view-from-our-studio.html' title='View from our studio'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-115892001892237088</id><published>2006-09-20T13:12:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-09-22T20:14:24.726+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Hier wonen we.  We live here.</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed style="width: 400px; height: 326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=1814121197859910629&amp;amp;hl=nl" quality="best" bgcolor="#ffffff" scale="noScale" salign="TL" flashvars="playerMode=embedded" align="middle"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-115892001892237088?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/115892001892237088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/115892001892237088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/09/hier-wonen-we-we-live-here.html' title='Hier wonen we.  We live here.'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-115894839794065581</id><published>2006-09-19T21:00:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-09-22T20:06:37.956+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Dust Everywhere</title><content type='html'>The first thing you notice arriving in Cairo is the dust. You can feel it on your tongue and it makes your throat dry.  In two hours after cleaning a table, you can write your name in the dust.&lt;br /&gt;Dust is usually defined as a mass of fine, dry particles, less then 0.0625 millimeter in diameter, smaller than the tiniest grains of sand. It can be made up completely of dirt deposit, or numerous combinations of fine dirt and other materials. The dust in Cairo is mineral material that comes from floors of desert basins, bare soil, plowed fields, river flood plains, smoke and ash produced by fires and decaying organic material.&lt;br /&gt;Grains of sand lofted into the air by the wind fall back to the ground within a few hours, but smaller particles remain suspended in the air for a week or more and can be swept thousands of kilometers downwind. Dust from the Sahara desert regularly crosses the Atlantic, causing bright red sunrises and sunsets in Miami, traveling as far as the Caribbean and the Amazon basin. An average Egyptian household contains 26 kilos of dust, that’s a garage full.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-115894839794065581?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/115894839794065581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/115894839794065581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/09/dust-everywhere.html' title='Dust Everywhere'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34734997.post-115874888783501439</id><published>2006-09-18T13:29:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2006-09-22T20:12:11.036+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Arriving in Cairo</title><content type='html'>We are picked up by the airport my Ayman. His car broke down so he arraigned a cab.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34734997-115874888783501439?l=juliaincairo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/115874888783501439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34734997/posts/default/115874888783501439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juliaincairo.blogspot.com/2006/09/arriving-in-cairo.html' title='Arriving in Cairo'/><author><name>julia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16181282974501694240</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
