Ghada's family

So I've been pretty responsible about sampling Egyptian culinary specialties (as evidenced by my ever-snugger clothes), but as of last weekend I hadn't yet tried fatta, a dish mentioned in my guide books as traditionally Egyptian. I mentioned it weeks ago, and Atef and I planned to meet for dinner (with his wife and daughter) at a restaurant where I could try it, but he cancelled at the last minute. So finally, my friend Ghada invited me to her home, promising me that her mother would prepare for us a huge dish of fatta.

So last night, after work, I took a microbus with Ghada and her sister Ensar (maybe ... I don't really know how to say it, much less spell it) to their home in Imbaba, a poor district north of Mohandisseen. We were crammed into the microbus (which seemed less comfortable than the ones to October city I'm used to, although I might have been imagining things), and then walked about ten minutes through Imbaba alleyways to a dead end and Ghada's apartment building. The "courtyard" was basically dust and garbage, and the apartment was a walk-up - fortunately, they live on the first (per the UK system) floor.

We entered the apartment and took a seat on the couch, in front of the fan - there was no AC, but also no natural light, so the apartment was a pretty comfortable temperature. It's a relatively small place, but not too tiny - the kitchen is small, because Egyptian kitchens tend to be, but the living room is quite large. Ghada shares the apartment with Ensar and their parents, and whichever family members happen to be staying the night, and between them all have two bedrooms. It was, in striking contrast to the outside (but not surprisingly), completely immaculate.

Ghada told me, "Sit and catch your breath for a few minutes, and then we will have fatta." I was expecting a late dinner, but I guess instead we were having a very late lunch. First, though, I was given a pair of pajamas to change into - it was very important that I was incredibly comfortable. I was actually quite comfortable in my own clothes, but it was such a suprising offer I couldn't figure out how to turn it down. So I took the clothes (which were actually sweats, and much hotter than what I was wearing) and was shown the bathroom, asked if I wanted to shower (I declined), and given a minute to change.

Once I was (un)dressed, we went back to the living room, where we ate family style - our food was served on a big metal tray in the middle of the floor, and us three girls sat around cross-legged and ate. We had soup (which was, I think, just broth), meat, and fatta. Honestly, I'm not quite sure how I got so worked up about the fatta, because even the description in the guidebook doesn't sound that great - it's a bowl of rice and bread, covered with tomato sauce - but it was kind of a dissapointment. Not bad, of course, but not great either. And my already hearty appetite was being criticized the whole time we ate - Ghada's mother sat and watched, and every few minutes would ask Ghada if I was alright, if I needed anything, if I didn't like the food. And so then Ghada would force me to eat more, "for my mother's sake." Even my "I don't eat meat" claim didn't exempt me from chowing down a big chunk of beef ... but I did, for the sake of being a good guest (you should be very proud of me, Mom!).

After dinner was done, we played Uno. I don't know why, but they all seemed VERY excited about this game. The first round was Ghada, two of her nephews, and myself, and later her brother (the kids' father) joined us at well. It was quite a night! I didn't expect to be spending my time in such a way, but hanging out with kids is always fun. And Mohamed, the older (maybe 11 or 12) actually spoke decent English, for a 12-year old Egyptian boy ... we played the whole game in English, and he knew all the colors and numbers (I kind of wish we'd played in Arabic, so that *I* could have learned them!).

The big hit of the evening was my ability to shuffle cards. After each game, they sort them into piles, randomly, to mix them back up ... when I shuffled instead, Ghada's father was so excited he had me do it again. And then, of course, Mohamed had to learn - unfortunately, the Uno cards took a bit of a beating, but he improved by the end of the night.

Later (while we were still playing Uno, of course - we played until I left), Ghada's cousins Akhmed and someone else (the names aren't my strong point) showed up, and joined the game. Ghada's fiancee Wael was also there, although he left kind of early with a headache. Meanwhile, after dinner was tea, and after tea was fruit - a tray of apples and grapes were brought out to eat. I think Ghada told her mother that I like grapes (which I do), because every three seconds someone told me "Eat grapes! Eat grapes!" I think I wound up eating a pound of them myself by the end of the night - and Akhmed was joking that I would have to take the rest and eat them in the taxi.

All in all, it was a great night - I mean, all I did was sit around with kids and play card games, but I was very clearly welcomed as one of the family. When I said I had to leave because I was exhausted, Ghada offered I just spend the night there. When it was time to leave, the men all rushed out to find me a taxi - and as it drove away, Ghada took the number just in case there was any trouble, and was later lectured by her parents for not giving me their home number with instructions to call when I got home. (Honestly, all this together with the fact that Akhmed told the cab driver, "Midan Libnan, Insha'allah," when I got in, makes me suspect it was something of a seedy neighborhood.)

Unfortunately, Ghada's parents speak no English, so I didn't get to talk to them. However, I know her mother is an incredibly hospitable woman (from my grape-bloated belly, in addition to the other signs), and her father seems like a quiet, gentle man. Her brother, though, was great - you can always tell a guy is cool when he spends hours playing cards with children. :) And her cousins actually came over specifically because they wanted to meet me, which is flattering (and a bit intimidating - I hope I lived up to the hype!).

I think this means that Egyptian hospitality is alive and well, at least in the more traditional (read: poor) segments of society.

Oh, and fatta - drastically overrated.