#lemondrizzleinSiwa

Photo by: Katrina Wild

Yesterday, my friend baked a lemon cake. I still think there wasn’t enough lemon in it but, I lost that argument with him, and those who ate the cake later. I did win the decision to have lemon drizzle icing simply because he’d forgotten to buy cheese for the cream cheese icing.

After a long day of adventures and a pale blue and lilac sunset with a pop of orange, we took the last of the cake to the Siwa Coffee Bar and shared it over coffees with the guys sitting on the piazza (for want of a better word). Some were coming in for a coffee before going back to their gardens to irrigate (usually dates and olives); others popping in after delivering their clients home after desert sunset safaris; and others still, just walking by after or before who knows what. One of the coffee shop owners brought out a teapot of sweet Siwi tea. One of the older guys who knows so much about Siwa and the villages around divulged nuggets of local knowledge – superstitions about activities that take place on full moon nights, hidden tunnels that connect villages and tombs and local characters. There were secrets they withheld, smiling and teasing us. My Egyptian friend knew a couple of details about their history that they didn’t know so the Siwis learned about their town from him too. So much knowledge is being lost.

It reminded me of Trinidadians caught up in making their businesses work, caring and providing for their families and creating our own future so that our own history fades into unimportance and irrelevance. We joke about the so very oft repeated refrain by Siwis during this peak tourist season, “this time busy, very busy” and they are. I can see how many residents of this fast-changing town, busy shaping their future, loose sight of their past. I’ve seen that in many countries. Tradition meeting modernity. Intelligent, thinking and motivated citizens working hard to broaden their horizons and the opportunities available to them and their families. People not wanting to be left behind. Human. This apparent tussle between tradition and modernity seems reflected in the peppering of Arabic in their unwritten Siwan (not sure where on a spectrum of words with ‘peppering’ and ‘dousing’ at the extremes which choice of word might best-describe their dialogue).

At home in bed, after the evening I realised that it was the first time in Siwa when I felt part of a community. Not an outsider looking in. Not a woman. Just me. Certainly not saying I’m an insider but I kinda felt like I’d found my footing. A room of my own, maybe. We were just chilling over tea. Sharing. Learning from each other and there was so much laughter.

The coffee shop has always been the place in Siwa where I can hang out with Siwis. And it’s nice that there are sometimes Egyptians and foreigners but it feels the clients are predominantly Siwi. It’s one of the few places I can get a cappuccino and where I can hear Arabic being spoken (yes Siwi is predominant). One of the staff (I say staff but there’s really only one person on shift at a time) is an absolute sweetheart and patient and doesn’t speak much English. He’s quite quiet but in the last few weeks I’ve been in the shop when it’s empty and he’s taken the time to have conversations with me in Arabic- ‘conversations’ is a very loose word. I’ve found myself sitting in the coffee shop with no one there, perhaps, the coffee maker has gone to mosque to pray, and someone has come in and made their own coffee. The other day the fixer on the film wanted a coffee and there wasn’t anyone there. As he made the coffee himself he explained that he’d set up the coffee machine when it first arrived. He let steam out as he explained that without doing that it gets too hot and burns the coffee. When my friend who used to work there wants a coffee sometimes she makes her own.

Today, I popped into the coffee shop with a friend on my way home. Again, the owner brewed a pot of tea and invited us to join him. As we drank tea together I told them all how included and part of Siwa I’d felt the night before in a way I hadn’t experienced before. They smiled and nodded.

There ends another day in Siwa.