Global Reflections

Lockdown Pseudo-Twitter: Saturday and Sunday

In this post, I'm continuing to publish things I wrote while locked down in our apartment in Maadi. Please remember that errors, contradictions, and uncertainties were left in deliberately in order to reflect my experiences at the time. The following updates were written on Saturday, 29 January, and Sunday, 30 January. This is the last of what I wrote while I was there.

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Saturday, 29 January 2011

8:06am – Internet’s still not up. The curfew ended just over an hour ago, but we’re still being instructed by the Marines to stay in our homes. I’m not sure what’s going on outside. The AFN news channel is showing its normal lineup, meaning it’s showing what aired on Fox News last night (morning shows tend to be shows that were shown live in the States the night before), so it’s still showing images from last night. CNNi has moved on—it’s on some international business show now. I heard a siren a few minutes ago, but there’s no telling what that was for. I can’t even look out the window and see anything useful because of the direction our windows face.

Jeff came to bed around 2am. I hadn’t been sleeping well up to that point, so I woke up enough to ask what was going on. He told me that Mubarak had finally given a speech—what took him so long?!—and that Mubarak was dissolving his entire government, to be reconstituted, presumably taking into account the protesters’ demands. I’m not sure that’s going to be enough; after all, their primary demand seemed to be that Mubarak himself had to go. We’ll see what happens later today. If the protesters are satisfied, it will be quiet, or mostly so. If not … well, we made it through yesterday okay.

11:11am – We got mobile phone service back an hour or so ago. I called my mom even though it was 3am where she is. I thought she’d be worrying and would want me to wake her, especially because we don’t know if or when mobile service will be cut off again. I was right except for one thing: She wasn’t asleep. She’d spent most of the day blissfully unaware, because she was at work, but she got very worried in the evening when people started calling her.

Jeff just left. We’re still supposed to stay in our homes, but certain mission-critical people need to be at the embassy in a situation like this. Jeff’s office keeps the Cairo-DC communication flowing, so the office needs to be manned. Throughout the embassy, people who spent the night last night are going home, and they’re being replaced by others. The RSO sent transportation. We packed a bag so that Jeff has everything he needs to spend the afternoon, night, and all day tomorrow at the embassy. (No, I didn’t tell my mom that Jeff was going in and that Alexa and I will be alone tonight. The purpose of the call was to reassure her, not to worry her further. We’ll be fine, even if tonight is a repeat of last night, but she wouldn’t believe that, so she doesn’t need to know right now.)

11:25am – CNNi just reported that people are again gathering on the streets of both Cairo and Alexandria. It looks like Mubarak’s plan to dissolve his cabinet isn’t enough—the people want him gone.

1:56pm – Jeff just called from the embassy. There will be a curfew in effect from 4pm today until 8am tomorrow. So it’ll definitely be just me, Alexa, and the cats tonight. Jeff asked if I wanted him to send a mass “we’re okay” email or just email his sister so he can ask her to let people know without letting everyone know that he has email access (ergo that he’s at work and we’re home without him). I asked him to just email his sister.

2:06pm – The Today Show just came on AFN News. They’re actually showing real news! Yay! It’s the first live coverage I’ve seen today. I think the footage they’re showing is from yesterday though.

I’ve heard that 35 bodies were taken to a single hospital in Cairo yesterday. I wish the total had remained at one. But the protesters aren’t backing down, so it looks like there will be more, especially if the military decides to go all-in for Mubarak. The question now is: who will blink first, Mubarak or the protesters?

5:02pm – I’m sitting in the middle of a mass uprising that might topple a government … and I’m bored. I’m stuck in my apartment. The news is getting repetitive. There’s no internet to browse. Who knew being in the middle of history could be boring?

Ah, the news just got interesting for a minute. They talked about “rising angst against America” and asked if there had been any reports of the American embassy or Americans being targeted. Nope. They still aren’t interested in us. That’s fine by me—I don’t want it to get that interesting. At this point, I just want it to play out. However it’s going to end, go ahead and do it already. I want my husband back home.

6:56pm – Ok, I’d like to be bored again, please. I just got back from a building meeting called by the RSO guy who lives here. He didn’t have too much concrete to tell us as far as plans go, but he just wanted us all to get together for a minute. He was talking about having requested a fast-response Marine team, not being sure how he’d handle it if our walls were breached by looters (if he shot one, there’d be two; if he shot them, there’d be four, and they’d be really mad then; he could beat up a few—with the aid of the guards, I’m sure—but not a lot …) I think the bottom line is that we’re on our own, and if looters breach our walls, all we can do is hunker down in our safe rooms, let them take our stuff, and hope that they have no interest in us. He confirmed that there’s looting on Road 9 (VERY close by) and that there was attempted looting next door, but their guards fired into the air, the military showed up, and the looters went away. Basically all we can do is hunker down, ride it out, and hope that our walls and guards are enough to deter them, or that if they do come in, they’re satisfied with busting up our cars downstairs. I started hearing gunfire while I’ve been typing. I’m not a fan.

I’m worried now. I was fine before the meeting, but hearing the tension in the RSO guy’s voice, seeing the fear on the others’ faces … knowing that we don’t have the resources in place to protect us or to get us out if something happens tonight … I had been believing the news reports that today has been more peaceful than yesterday, but now I’m not so sure. Maybe it’s been more peaceful between the government and the protesters, but now the looters are coming out and they’re the ones I’m worried about. I hate that Jeff had to go in. I’ve done all I know to do to prepare for anything. I have go bags packed for both Alexa and myself. If we have to go, I won’t be able to take the cats, but I put down extra food and water for them, because if we have to go, there won’t be time to do it then. Of course we can’t go tonight because there aren’t any plans to protect us while we go.

I have supplies for myself, Alexa, and the cats in the safe room … other than food. I’m going to go put some cans of soup and a jar of peanut butter in there. (I already have food for Alexa and the cats in there.) The logical part of my brain says that it isn’t going to be an issue; tonight won’t be any worse than last night … except that I’m not sure I really believe that. The looters make all the difference. They’re my fear now. The army won’t protect us from them, and the police aren’t around anymore. I’m not sure I’ll be sleeping tonight.

8:15pm – I just received a phone call from our floor warden. She told me that there is a group of people outside our walls with sticks and clubs, but not to worry about it: they’re the good guys. They’re the bowwabs and some residents from the neighboring buildings. They’ve banded together to protect the buildings from looters. I’m relieved. Their goal is not to protect our building, but in protecting their own, they also will increase security for ours. I hope our precautions also help them. In a very real way, we’re mooching off of the risk that they’re taking.

Sunday, 30 January 2011

7:39am – Last night was interesting. I finally decided shortly before 11 that there was no point to staying up. I gathered our go-bags, the cats’ travel crates, litter box, and food and water bowls, put them all in the safe room, then called Jeff to give him an update on the situation.

The whole time it was obvious that both of the cats and Alexa all had picked up on my stress. Isis wouldn’t leave the safe room, once all of her supplies were in there; she’d approach the door but wouldn’t step foot out of it. Cleo left the room every time I opened the door, but if I called her name, she came running. Cleo typically does not come when called; like most cats I’ve met, she’s more likely to look at you as if to say “silly human; if you want me, you must come to me,” if she doesn’t just take off in the other direction. Not last night, though. She practically galloped down the hall if I stood in the door and called her, as if she were afraid I’d close her out.

The saddest, though, was Alexa. She was happy as a clam if I held her. She was content if I put her down but remained within arm’s reach and facing her. But the moment I turned my back or, heaven forbid, took a step or two away, her little face crumpled and she cried pathetically until I touched her. Some primal part of her little brain seemed to realize: “Mama’s afraid. If Mama is afraid, then I’m in danger. My only hope of survival is to keep her with me.” And she was very effective at keeping me with her.

I got in bed around 11:30 and fell asleep shortly thereafter. Around 12:30, I was woken by a phone call from the CLO. They were contingency planning: If an evacuation were authorized, how many in my family would go? Well, Jeff wouldn’t—he’s mission critical. I’d have to talk to Jeff about whether or not Alexa and I would go, but it would depend on … at this point, my sleep-fogged brain failed me. It would depend on a lot of things, I thought. Definitely on whether or not we could take our cats. She said that they’d be able to go on a later flight than us. My brain woke up enough to say “That’s the best you’re going to get; agree,” so I said that I’d still have to check with Jeff, but we’d probably go. We got off the phone and I called Jeff, who had wanted to know any and all developments. I told him what she’d said. He told me that downtown was eerily quiet; the demonstrators had heard that their homes were being looted and had gone home to protect their families and their stuff.

After the information exchange, I tried to go back to sleep. That part didn’t work. I heard what sounded like gunfire, possibly close, and it was all over. I was awake. I had to go to the bathroom. I was hungry. I took care of all my physical needs and still lay awake for at least two hours. I saw the clock hit 2:30. I was probably awake until 3 or so. Then I was woken at 7 by the Marines reminding everyone on the radio that the curfew is on until 8, the embassy is closed until further notice, everyone should stay in their homes, and no one should try to go to work unless their supervisor tells them to and arranges transportation.

Jeff called just a few minutes ago. He’s coming home this morning. He couldn’t say exactly when for security reasons—the situation out there has them treating Cairo as if it were Baghdad, from an op-sec perspective—but he will leave the embassy within the next couple of hours. The curfew doesn’t end until 8, so I doubt they would leave before that.

I’m exhausted. I need a shower but can’t take one because Alexa will wake up any moment. I have a headache. Being in the middle of a revolution—or attempted revolution, if they end up failing—really isn’t any fun. But it’s part of the territory sometimes, apparently.

8:18am – When Jeff and I were married, we registered for everything in blue and green. Blue for Jeff, green for me. We have a great set of dishes—12 dinner plates, 12 round salad plates, 12 square plates, 12 bowls … all of them six blue and six green. I’ve always organized them carefully in my kitchen cabinets; that’s just my nature. The dinner plates are in one stack, alternating colors: green, blue, green, blue, like clockwork. The small plates and bowls are in side-by-side stacks, one stack green, one stack blue. All neat and organized, like a store display. Yesterday as I put up some dishes, I thought it might be nice to introduce a random element. So I grabbed the dishes from the dishwasher and just put them up without concern for organization by color. I ended up with two greens, then a blue on top of a stack of blue plates. A series of three blues and then two greens on top of my dinner plate stack. This morning as I put up some more dishes, I realized what I was doing. I’m deliberately introducing a little chaos into my kitchen cabinets, because somehow that makes the chaos in my life right now seem a little less chaotic. Sometimes psych majors realize the darndest things.

9:19am – Jeff is home. We believe that an evacuation has been approved, but whether or not it will go into effect will depend on how things go today and tonight. It may be the beginning of the end for the protests, as people can’t focus too much on protesting when they’re having to protect their families and belongings from looters. The looters may have ended this uprising and given Mubarak a little more time, although the handwriting is on the wall for him. Jeff reports that things outside, between the embassy and Maadi, are “eerily normal.” Traffic is normal for a Friday morning (though not for a Sunday), very light and fast. Civilians are directing traffic, some with sticks and knives, replacing the missing traffic cops. Very few people are out walking around. Neighborhood vigilante groups formed last night and I would assume are still in effect, even though the members may be taking sleep breaks. Basically people stayed close to their own buildings but had whistles—hear a whistle, go help your neighbor, knowing he’d do the same for you.

12:06pm – It’s official; there is an authorized evacuation tomorrow morning. Now we have to decide if Alexa and I are leaving. Today is a pivotal point. If the security situation remains unstable, it will continue to be dangerous at night. But there is a military presence in Maadi now, making it much safer. Depending on the reactions of Mubarak and the protesters, things could get better, or they could deteriorate rapidly. If we leave now, we can take the cats out with us. If we wait and it gets worse, we may not be able to. Once we leave, we may not be allowed back in for some time, possibly not at all, if it takes long enough that they determine that we’re too close to our PCS date by the time they lift the evac order. And Jeff will be here, not with us. We have to decide today. I don’t want to leave, but there are factors to consider other than my desires, including Jeff’s safety too. If we leave, he’ll feel freer to just stay at the embassy instead of going back and forth, with the travel being the most dangerous part. We need to decide …

2:19pm—Looks like we have little to no choice. The pressure is on from Jeff's bosses in DC. Alexa and I are leaving. The cats can’t go after all. An employee who will be here for the duration is a cat lover who has agreed to take responsibility for Cleo and Isis, since Jeff won’t be able to take care of them if he gets stuck at the embassy. Her maid will care for them if she can’t get home. I’m probably done with updates for a while now; gotta get ready to go.

Lockdown Pseudo-Twitter: Friday

In this post, I'm continuing to publish things I wrote while locked down in our apartment in Maadi. Please remember that errors, contradictions, and uncertainties were left in deliberately in order to reflect my experiences at the time. The following updates were written the evening/night of Friday, 28 January 2011.

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Update 7:29pm – a member of the Regional Security Office who lives in our building told Jeff that (1) the guards downstairs, who can’t go home tonight due to the curfew, are okay for food; (2) there are cars burning near Maadi Grand Mall; and (3) someone breached an embassy parking lot (not the embassy compound itself) downtown. I hope no one tries to breach the embassy itself. I won’t talk about my opinions regarding this protest—it isn’t my place to have an opinion in a public forum, although I do have one in private conversation—but let me say this loud and clear to anyone and everyone: The U.S. Embassy compound is sovereign U.S. territory. If anyone breaches that, it’s up to the RSO and the Marines what consequences they will face.

7:37pm – Jeff just called me out to the walkway, telling me it was my one chance to see it. The protesters are in the midan a short block away. I ran out there to see, but Jeff pulled me back in less than 15 seconds later, before I actually saw anything. He wouldn’t let me take the camera. When we came back in, he asked me to take Alexa and go into our safe room, just in case. We usually have several police around our compound in addition to our guards. Currently we have two. We’re more vulnerable now than we usually are, and if anything were to happen, it would happen fast. Better to be already in the safe room.

7:41pm – Jeff just stuck his head outside (wouldn’t let me do it) and reported that the protesters seem to have been just passing through the midan near here on their way somewhere else. I’m allowed back in the living room now.

8:00pm – We heard gunfire outside. It wasn’t really close, but fairly close. Couldn’t tell if it was really guns or if it was tear gas. This is turning into an interesting evening. I think we’ll be up late tonight, monitoring the situation.

8:13pm – they’re in the midan again. The shots—it sounds like tear gas—are coming fast and loud. I heard what sounded like heavy vehicles right outside our compound wall. Jeff is looking to see if it’s the military replacing our police officers. The police around the embassy downtown also were pulled. They were supposed to be replaced by military but I don’t know if they have been yet.

8:18 pm – it wasn’t the military. The protesters are filling the midan to the point that incoming traffic is being diverted down our street. We’re hearing shots that don’t sound like tear gas but also don’t sound like the AKs carried by Egyptian police and military. Not sure what that is.

We’re staying in touch via landline with other embassy people, primarily those in Maadi. I’d like to check on my non-embassy friends, but I don’t have their landline numbers. Our people are all okay so far, staying in their homes. The protesters aren’t mad at us this time, so there’s no real reason to think they’ll try to breach our housing, but the guards turned off the walkway lights as a precaution. The protesters are targeting police stations and public buildings like ministry buildings and NDP headquarters. We should be okay as long as we don’t go out. But I don’t see this night ending without more casualties among Egyptian protesters and/or police.

8:28pm – Jeff just confirmed that people are getting shot in the midan outside. We don’t know if the police/military (not sure who’s firing) are using rubber or metal bullets, but the guards are listening to the police radio, and people definitely are getting shot.

8:35pm – Alexa just fell asleep, hopefully for the night. She slept in her crib last night for the first time. Not so tonight. She’s sleeping in the safe room tonight. We don’t expect anything to happen to us here, but if it does, it will happen quickly enough that we want her already in there.

8:41pm – I no longer have any desire to go out on the streets. I occasionally poke my head out the door onto the walkway, being careful to have no light behind me (silhouetting is bad). We just received a transmission from the Marines over the emergency radio: “Anyone outside will be shot.” I assume that’s the rules of engagement the Egyptian police and military are using at this point. Some idiot actually replied to the Marines with “Are you serious?” I loved the Marines’ response: “Be advised, anything coming from [call sign] is serious.” Come on, people—if you’ve been listening, you’ve heard the stress in that young man’s voice increase throughout the evening. Shut up, listen up, do as you’re told, and let the man do his job.

10:39pm – I’m beat. It’s been quiet here for a couple of hours. Last I heard, the military were entering Maadi. The police had backed the protesters away from this area to the Maadi Grand Mall area. By now, I would assume that the military is on the scene and the police are off the streets. The people like and respect the military a lot better than they like and respect the police (for whom they have zero liking and even less respect), so military presence alone should calm things somewhat. I need to go to bed. Jeff is planning to doze on the sofa with the news on TV. Hopefully things will be better tomorrow … but honestly, things are already worse than we expected them to get at all, so there’s no predicting how the weekend will play out.

Incommunicado

First of all, thank you to all of you who posted comments or sent emails expressing your concern for us and for others in Egypt. Jeff and I deeply appreciate your concern and your prayers.

I obviously was not able to post anything during the internet blackout, but that did not prevent me from recording my thoughts and reactions to what was going on. I typed ongoing reports--my own personal, delayed Twitter-esque record--with the intention of publishing them on this blog when I was able. The final product, before any editing I do along the way (I promise not to edit the content, but I may edit for clarity or grammar before posting--but I will leave in uncertainties and even information that I later discovered to be wrong, because I want it to reflect what we were experiencing at the time), was 11 pages long. I'm going to post it in installments. It ends with the news that Alexa and I were going to be evacuated--after that, I was too busy to keep it up. I'll try to record what I remember of the evacuation process and post that too.

For now I'll start with the initial report, what I wrote as a typical blog entry, before the twitter-style updates were added. Those will begin in the next post.

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Friday, 28 January 2011

We woke up this morning to discover that we had no internet access. This was not unexpected, with the protests planned for today. We had been warned that internet access and possibly even mobile phone coverage could be cut off by the Egyptian government as a way to limit the ability of the people to coordinate protests. Jeff discovered our lack of internet access around 7 this morning; we later learned that friends who arrived home from an evening out at 12:30am had no internet access at that time either. As best we can tell, it was shut down shortly after midnight.

Shortly after 8am, Jeff told me that the expectation was that mobile phone service would be cut off around noon. This timing made sense, as protests were expected to start after Friday prayers, around 2pm. We decided to call Jeff’s father, despite the early morning hours on the East Coast, and ask him to post a Facebook status explaining that we were incommunicado, but safe, as we had no plans to leave our home today. We took this precaution because I had received expressions of concern from the States yesterday, so if there was any news coverage of today’s protests at all, we knew people would be concerned, especially if they were unable to contact us. It turned out that we were wise to go ahead and make the call early, rather than waiting closer to the anticipated noon cutoff time. Mobile phone service was disabled shortly after we used my mobile to call Jeff’s father.

Our plans for today—put in place a couple of weeks ago, before protests were even a consideration—included a drop-in here at our apartment for our old Bible study group, which dissolved last spring when our leaders moved away. We spent the rest of the morning preparing oatmeal-peanut butter-chocolate chip cookies, vegetables and dip, and brownies … unsure of whether anyone would even come, with today’s anticipated events. If people decided that they were better off staying home, they had no way of letting us know. (Landline phones were still connected, but most of us only know each other’s mobile numbers and email addresses.)

We had a brief period of worry this morning, not for ourselves, but for an embassy friend who needed to go to work today. He left his home in Maadi at 9 and took the metro downtown. The trip by metro usually takes around 45 minutes. It was expected that it would take a little longer today, as the metro station under Tahrir Square has been closed for the last couple of days. Our friend was required to exit at a neighboring station and then walk to the embassy. But even with this extra time, the trip shouldn’t have taken longer than an hour. At 10:30, he still wasn’t answering his office phone. With mobile phone service unavailable, there was no way to contact him. Luckily, the worry didn’t last long—he arrived safely at the embassy and made contact by 11 or so.

All but one of the expected couples did come to our social event this afternoon—one of them with her embassy-issued emergency radio tucked into her handbag (ours was on the coffee table; the others were not mission members and therefore had no radios). They reported that the streets of Maadi were “eerily empty” this morning, although there apparently was a rush on the commissary when it opened. That makes sense, as many families do their shopping on Fridays and wouldn’t have wanted to be out this afternoon. Combine those families with even a few panic shoppers, and the commissary would have been slammed. We're very grateful that Jeff always insists on having a large stash of emergency rations here--primarily peanut butter, tuna, and chunky soup, plus lots of bottled water. No commissary run needed for us today.

We spent a pleasant couple of hours this afternoon chatting, eating, and admiring Alexa with our friends. We also turned the television on in the background, to the AFN news station, so that we’d see the news coverage if anything major happened. Unfortunately, the Today Show was on … so we were treated to fluff about adjustable beds and a teacher who had sex with her student ten years ago.

After our friends left, we received a phone call from Jeff’s supervisor. The embassy phone tree had been activated to disseminate a warden message that usually would have gone out by email—basically, there were clashes between protesters and police throughout Cairo, roads around the embassy are closed, there’s a small demonstration near the overpass in Maadi, and no one should attempt to get to the embassy. News of the protest here prompted me to tell Jeff that we need eggs; I can just run down to the metro market (practically under the overpass) and pick some up. Jeff wouldn’t let me leave the apartment. *sigh* I know, it isn’t logical, it probably isn’t even sane, but … I want to see. But I can’t, so I won’t dwell on it.

Then we got a phone call from another friend. She lives in Zamalek, an island in the Nile just across from downtown Cairo, and she could hear protesters from her living room. She was watching the coverage on CNN International and al-Jazeera English on her satellite. I lamented that we’d had our Orbitz disconnected and were reliant on AFN’s one news channel, which was showing fluff. She reminded me that our Orbitz satellite could pick up the free satellite channels—including CNN International and al-Jazeera English. Yay! Jeff hooked it back up for me, so now we’re sitting here watching CNNi while I type. We aren't getting al Jazeera, so CNNi or AFN are our only options. I prefer Fox News, which is showing now on AFN, but Fox News isn’t devoting themselves exclusively to the protests like CNNi seems to be.

Some of this coverage on CNN International is ridiculous. They’re reporting that prisoners have been released from Egyptian prisons and are being used as “shock troops” to put down demonstrators. They’re also reporting that one of these “shock troops looked wild-eyed, like he was on drugs.” I’ve got two words for you: No. Way. Do these reporters not know how drug users are treated here? Let me tell you, they DO NOT get released early and given the opportunity to bash some heads. Now, I still do not intend to reveal with whom I agree philosophically—the demonstrators or the Mubarak regime—but I will say that CNNi’s coverage is very biased. These reporters obviously are on the side of the demonstrators. They’re criticizing everything about how the government is responding, saying that the government is overreacting even though the government is reacting against protesters who are throwing Molotov cocktails and calling for the overthrow of the government. Whether you agree with the protesters or not, how would you expect the government to react? The CNNi reporters are saying that the government is showing “no restraint.” Really? No restraint? When they’re using tear gas and batons? If they were showing no restraint, they’d be using bullets. Dispersed from automatic weapons. There would be no protesters left standing.

Don’t get me wrong. The images on TV look pretty bad; the situation out there is bad. The government is responding forcefully, and the response is getting more forceful as the day—evening now—goes on. Police are using tear gas and batons. We saw one protester on the news get hit by an armored police van. Martial law has been declared. It’s bad out there. The case may be made that the government response is disproportionately forceful. But there is restraint. Is there enough restraint? I won’t comment on that. But I do wish CNNi would be a little less hysterical in their reporting.

Speaking of less hysteria in reporting, we spent a few minutes on Fox News. “Egypt is exploding.” Exploding?! Thank you, Shepard Smith. I’m sure my mother will be very reassured to hear that.

Okay, off the “objectivity in news reporting” soapbox. Back to what’s going on.

There’s a curfew in effect from 6pm until 7am in Cairo, Alexandria, and Suez. I’m not sure what the consequences of breaking curfew would be—is it immediate arrest? Will they eventually go to “shoot on sight”? For now, it looks like they’re still using batons. I guess our friends at the embassy are stuck there tonight—we did just receive a call from one of them saying that we shouldn’t buck this curfew; the government is serious about this. I guess I won’t go out for eggs after all … although I do wonder: Does Cairo include Maadi, which technically is a suburb? I won’t get to find out … and from some of the pictures I’m seeing on TV now, I think I wouldn’t go out anyway. The time for that was this afternoon.

I wish I could call or email my family to reassure them that we’re safe. I hope they saw my father-in-law’s Facebook post this morning and know that we’re not out and about in any of the chaos. More importantly, I hope and pray that the one protest-related death currently being reported is the only one.

Evacuated

This is just a quick post to say that Alexa and I were evacuated from Egypt on Monday, along with 1498+ other Americans. We just arrived at my mother's house tonight and are desperate for sleep. I hope to post more within the next few days.

Jeff remained in Cairo and will continue to remain there so long as he is needed. (He does not expect to evacuate.) We have every confidence in his safety and in the safety of the remaining mission personnel.

Protests

This is not going to be a long, in-depth analysis of anything. I say that so no one will be disappointed. But I do want to take a moment--and it may only be a moment, if Alexa wakes up--to make you aware, if the news hasn't already, that there are some pretty big protests going on in Egypt right now.

You may remember hearing the news that a popular uprising in Tunisia successfully overthrew the government there not too long ago. That news has inspired other populations to stage their own protests/demonstrations/whatever word you want to use.

In Egypt, the day for protests was set at Tuesday, 25 July, which was a national holiday: Police Day. I started hearing about it a few days before that, maybe Thursday or Friday. I didn't think much of it; we hear about demonstrations fairly often, and I can rattle off all the standard lines: Avoid areas where demonstrations will occur, even peaceful gatherings can turn violent, and so on and so forth. Usually we're told by the Regional Security Office (RSO) that protests are planned for a certain day, and that's the end of it. This time there were indications that the RSO was more concerned than usual. I won't go into details, but suffice it to say that extra precautions seemed to be occurring in the days leading up to the protests. That was enough to tell me this was going to be big.

And it was. Check out some pictures from a Facebook group called Operation Egypt. There were some huge protests on Tuesday, including a massive one in Tahrir Square, just a block or so from the embassy where Jeff works. (As it was a holiday, he wasn't there on Tuesday.) As planned, our family stayed home. There was a time when I would have wanted to go see what was going on--staying on the outskirts of everything, being reasonably cautious--although Jeff never would have agreed. But now that we have Alexa, I was all for staying home. So we did. We checked the internet news a couple of times but overall didn't work ourselves up over anything.

Yesterday Jeff went back to work. I stayed home with Alexa and didn't check the news or anything. Jeff got home around his usual time last night. He informed me that they had been dismissed early, but he had work to do (catching up from being out sick on Monday), so he hadn't left early. The early dismissal was because the protests had continued from Tuesday to Wednesday. That surprised me, as usually these things occur on the planned day and then they're over and done with. Jeff said that as he was leaving work, there were rumors that a demonstration was starting in front of the Semiramis Hotel on the Corniche, across the street from the embassy.

This morning I saw Facebook status updates from friends here in Egypt: "I'm okay." "Pray for Egypt." "We're fine, staying in Maadi, which is still quiet." I saw a post from my sister-in-law indicating that she was praying for all Americans in Egypt, and I knew she was thinking of us. I realized that the protests must have hit the international news sometime yesterday/last night. I did a quick search and began to realize just how big this really is--something I hadn't realized as I stayed cocooned in my quiet apartment with my sweet daughter. The pictures that I linked to earlier blew me away. When I went to Operation Egypt's home page on Facebook so I could link to it, I saw an update that was posted less than half an hour ago: "Protests starting now at Liberation Square (Midan atTahrir) Cairo. No police yet." This is the huge midan near the embassy. Many of the pictures I linked to were taken there. It looks like it's going to be another day of protests, another day of tear gas, another day of struggle.

I'm not in a position to comment on Egyptian politics. (I'm in Egypt on a diplomatic passport, after all, and many people don't understand that I don't speak for the American government, even though my husband does work for the U. S. embassy.) I have my opinions, which will remain with me for now. But I think we all can agree that Egypt needs prayer. The Egyptian people need prayer. If you're a praying person, please pray. Pray for the safety of the police and the protesters, and any bystanders who are caught up in events as they simply try to go to work, school, or about their daily lives. Pray for justice for all the citizens of this country. Pray that God will have His hand on these events and that He will work in and through them to accomplish His purposes in the lives of the individuals involved and in the life of Egypt as a country.

Day three has begun. There are calls on Facebook and Twitter for even more massive protests tomorrow after Friday prayers. I don't know how long this will go on or how it will end. But right now, the Egyptian people are protesting.

Update: Jeff just emailed me and said that he was in Tahrir before lunch today. He saw lots of police but no protesters. I wouldn't be too surprised if small groups of protesters were being arrested or run off immediately. The key will be what happens this evening, if large groups show up, and what happens tomorrow afternoon.