Yes, Israel paid-up.

Hi everyone,

So as the title says–yes, Israel reimbursed me for around 80 percent of the cost for a replacement laptop. I got the reimbursement in late December. Since people are still asking me, I’m *finally* posting this.

Thanks to those of you who left me encouraging comments and sent emails about my laptop, traveling, writing, conflict, etc. I am sorry I did not answer many of them. I did read everything and feel enormously lucky to be privy to so many perspectives.

To all those who bombarded my blog with negative comments–to only proclaiming hate for Israelis/Palestinians/Americans/Muslims, to accusing me of leaving my bag unattended (I did not) and never backing-up (I did–but yes, I should have more often): Travel. Read. If you’re in the U.S. take advantage of our amazing diversity and meet new people. If you’re an Israeli, why don’t you visit a Palestinian area? I know I’ll be criticized for saying this and I by no means thinks it’s the rule, however most Israelis I met had never been to a Palestinian area and thought I was crazy for going to Ramallah (which is perfectly safe and 20 minutes from Jerusalem). Likewise, I was shocked by how many Palestinians do not attempt to learn Hebrew. While I understand the repulsion for many, let’s face reality. How can solutions be reached without common languages?

There is tons I do not know about the Israel, Palestinians, Muslims, Jews, etc. I’m learning and with what I learn will likely change some opinions. This is my blogs, my opinions. I’m not a politician, not a journalist, I try to research and write informed entries, however I do not always censor my views or hide my ignorance. So don’t read if you do not want to…I hope you, like me, will be inspired to learn more by this incident, (more precisely the reaction to it).I’m all for criticizing– just make it worthwhile, debatable, something we can work with.

Ok. I’m writing too much. I intended this to be a short sweet post. Actually a reading break.

Yes…post-Israel, I spent a couple last days in Egypt, a couple crazy weeks reuniting with family and friends in NY, and now I’m back Boston, finishing my *last* undergraduate semester.

I miss blogging…but simply have no time now with school work, job, etc. One of these days I plan to catch-up and get back into it =)

Obama at NU (Political energy on campus!)

If you’re a MA resident go vote in the special Senate election to fill Kennedy’s seat!!

HURRY! Polls close at 8p.m.

Though the election was never expected to be close (Coakley was a sure favorite), it seems is–think discontent and mixed feelings of the health care reform. In other terms: This election matters and MA voters know it.

————–

Though still a New Yorker when it comes to voting, the election felt more personal after this Sunday when President Obama rallied for Martha Coakley (D), on Northeastern’s campus.

NUTV filmed Obama’s entire speech and reported hopeful audience formed a line as early as 4 a.m for doors which opened at 1p.m.

I joined the line around 11a.m. At around 1:30 a police car drove by (we were on Huntington Ave. across from Temptations Cafe) and told us the space–Cabot Gym–was already filled.

Though disappointed to miss Obama, waiting on line was no bust.  Seeing NU’s familiar campus fill with supporters and protesters was inspiring.

—

“What if Christmas, he thought…..”

A couple days ago I sat sprawled across the living room floor, reunited with my 9-year-old sister.

Since I left she progressed from sounding-out-words to reading chapter books.

‘I want to hear you read!’ I demanded of her.

‘OK….which book?’

A pile of holiday books lay on the floor.

No competition. I picked an eternal favorite, How the Grinch Stole Christmas by Dr. Seuss.

It was even better than I remembered (love those rhymes!), and so wise.

“And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled ’till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn’t before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn’t come from a store. What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.”

Happy Holidays!

What came before that smirk

Why do we think how we do? What shapes our lives?  What can we learn? The following is a series of anecdotes, which in part, explain how I have reached certain opinions. I have received a lot of personal criticism over the last few days. This is my response.

Thanks for reading!

————————-

It’s a typical Wednesday night and I’m at my Dad’s house in New York, Northwest of NYC. Maybe I’m 7 years old, maybe 10.

As my younger brother and I sit at the kitchen table watching, our Dad grates potatoes and a bit of onion into a bowl, then adds eggs and spices.  Olive oil crackles in the pan as he drops in the potato mixture, forming them into flat patties with a spatula.

These are good ones, he promises, as we fetch ketchup, sour cream and applesauce from the fridge. He divvies the oily-hot dinner on our plates.

Though latkes are a traditionally Jewish food, usually eaten on Chanukah, in my family we didn’t always celebrate Chanukah but ate latkes any time.

Growing up, latkes were not representative of religion, but rather culture and heritage.

————————————————————————

I’m around 13 years old, driving with my Dad as he runs some errands.

Have you ever been inside Kiryis Joel, he asks me?

I don’t think so, I reply.

We pull off the familiar roads I know and head into a new reality, seconds away from ours.

There are schools and grocery stores, synagogues and tons of tightly packed apartment buildings.  Women and girls wear long skirts and modest long sleeves. Men, down to the youngest boys, have long side curls, many topped with tall black hats. All the signs are written in Yiddish.

My Dad stops the car near a synagogue to exchange a couple words with a client or friend. They begin to enter the synagogue and I follow. The man stops me.

You can’t come in here, my Dad explains. Only men can.

I stand by the car, wondering about religion, lifestyles and gender roles.

———————————————————————————

My mom’s younger sister, moves with her Israeli husband and two children to Tel Aviv. I remember my Granny’s constant anxiety on their behalf.

I remember headlines about bus bombings. I think Israel is a terrifying place and wish my family would leave.

All I know about the Palestinians is they are a danger to my family. I only hear about them when they do something wrong.

When my aunt and her family move to California, we all sighs in relief.

———————————————————————-

Sometime in my mid teens I enter my Dad’s living room to find a discussion about how to resolve the conflict in Israel/Palestine.

I listen as the eclectic group debates the virtues and probability of a two state solution and alternatives.

I have never studied the conflict in-depth in school or discussed it with my parents.

I have only heard about violence, terror and senseless death.

—————————————————————————-

He’s running over 42 miles, weak and starved as Nazis shoot straggling companions and the cold freezes souls and limbs.

I’m in 10^th grade and think Elie Wiesel’s Night is one of the saddest true stories I’ve ever read.

In my high school there are often anti-Semitic slurs. Part of it is ignorance, part likely frustration at Kiryas Joel encroaching into our neighborhoods.

I’m aware of my Jewish heritage. I want the descendents of these people to be safe and have a home. I don’t want the Jews to be outcasts, scapegoats or viewed as greedy and manipulating intellectuals.

At the same time, I do not feel Jewish. I have never attended Hebrew school, gone to synagogue or prayed in a religious way.

Some night during high school, I don’t remember when, I spend many hours on my computer. I read about being atheist and agnostic and think about what I believe. I decide I’m agnostic.

I’m curious about religion from an intellectual perspective.

I want to understand what so many billions of all faiths believe, I want to understand my heritage, and I respect how religious organizations bring people together in positive ways.

I am discouraged by how religion separates and classifies people. It seems it always has and I have no evidence it will ever cease.

—————————————————————

We’re on a family vacation in Colorado when my Mom gets a call from our good friend and neighbor. Her son—a couple years my senior—has been hit by a train near our house. He is dead.

In the days that follow I watch her and others find solace in the church and their belief of God.

I am grateful for their faith.

———————————————————–

I check the Egypt box on the application.

I’ve written an essay about my interest in the region, stemming from my desire to understand what I do not know and journalistic ambitions.

I am critical of American foreign policy. I believe learning Arabic is a way to overcome cultural and communication differences, mitigate ignorance and make better future decisions. I think the importance is in the details and I want to understand every word.

—————————————————————————————-

I’m sitting at a favorite outdoor shisha café with American and Egyptian peers. It’s June 2008, a couple weeks into our dialogue in Egypt.

We sip Ennab (cold hibiscus tea) and fresh juices. I ask questions about Islam.

Is religion a part of their everyday lives? Do they all pray five times a day? What is Allah’s role in their lives? What do they think of us?

I discover my new friends are more like me than I imagined.

They ask about my religion so I explain what it means to be atheist and agnostic.

They want to know how I was raised so I describe celebrating both Jewish and Christian holidays.

It was about the family being together. It was about lighting Chanukah candles, cooking latkes and savory soup, and enjoying each other’s presence. Christmas was about how the dazzlingly decorated tree enveloping the whole house in its woody aroma, snowflakes and hot chocolate.

Prior to take-off, a professor, had warned us Egyptians would likely view practicing no religion more negatively than practicing Judaism or Christianity.

Though skeptical, my new friends were accepting and endlessly curious.

The conversation moves to Obama’s pending election and U.S. foreign policy, to relationships, marriage and sex, to our expectation about Egypt and their view of Americans.

————————————————————————–

It’s Fall 2008 and I’m spending 6 months working in Washington D.C.

As part of my job, I followed the news closely.

As I watch bills pass through the house and the senate, I think of what our political system is capable and its limitations. As I spend my weekends campaigning for Obama in Virginia, I’m inspired, optimistic and terrified of what will happen if he loses.

More than ever, I think America’s policies are not in line with our interests. I want to believe we can change that.

———————————————————————

It’s January 2009, the start of a new semester at NU.

With hopes to return to the Middle East on my mind, I enroll in a course, “Human Rights in the Middle East.”

As we sit in our comfy classroom discussing freedom of press (aka lack-of), women’s rights, extrajudicial killings and international rules of war, Israel continues its bombing and blockade of Gaza.

We talk about human shields and Gaza’s dense population crammed in a 25 mile long 4-7.5 miles wide, strip. We talk about the rockets killing Israeli civilians, who is launching them, and why.

I read how around 40 children are killed when Israeli mortar hits a United Nations school building. I read how IDF forces move 100 Palestinians into a house near Gaza, which is bombed the next day, killing at least 30.

I read 33 percent of the Gazans killed are women and children. I read a truck, marked with United Nations flags, which movements were coordinated with the IDF, was shot at, leaving one aid worker dead and two companions injured. I read a Human Rights Watch Report about Israelis using white phosphorous, a war crime.

I do not believe Israel is taking “all feasible precautions,” to avoid civilian casualties.

I am outraged just as thoroughly by Israel’s denial of services, pointedly targeting citizens. Vital materials, such as those required for plumbing repairs and emergency medical care are blockaded. Food and masses of donated goods sit idly at the border as those inside—about 1.4 million, suffer.

——————————————————————————

I move the headphones and blanket and sink into my seat.

The plane launches and there is no going back.

I, along with 24 other Northeastern University students, two professors and one assistant, will land in Cairo, Egypt in around 20 hours. From there we will travel to Syria and Qatar.

Carlene Hempel, our journalism professor, describes our mission as follows on our group website:

“We have embarked on a five-week reporting adventure during which we are traveling to three different countries in the Middle East – Egypt, Syria and Qatar. From May 2 through June 5, we will be reporting, via the blog below, what we are witnessing. Politics, culture, arts, economics, religion and international relations are just some of our interests. To the right, you will also find a list of our names. These are our personal blogs….. the students’ personal blogs are their own responsibility. What’s written there reflects their thoughts, opinions and even fears and hopes as they engage in what will undoubtedly be an once-in-a-lifetime experience.”

My own story is slightly varied. As my peers conclude the trip buying souvenirs at the Khan-el-Khalili and punching out final reflections to their blogs, I tour apartments in downtown Cairo and apply for internships.

I cannot imagine leaving after such a short stint–There is so much I want to see and learn. I want to be more than a tourist; I will live and work in a society different than my own.

————————————————————————

­­­­­The man looks at me, speaking in the challenging Iraqi Arabic. The woman to my left translates his words into English and I type notes while forming questions in my mind. He’s my first client, an Iraqi refugee who was persecuted in Iraq because he worked with Americans.

As I ask him personal questions, I wonder what he thinks of me: a young female, not fluent in Arabic or familiar with all the places in Iraq he is recounting in his personal history.

After the interview I sit in one of the other rooms in our beloved office. The wall is colorfully painted by children and other interns and translators are busy sitting with clients, researching or writing.

I’ve undergone an intense week of training, but it’s so little….. I look at maps of Iraq, read histories, the Geneva Convention, human rights reports and UNHCR guidelines. I talk with my Iraqi coworkers and research voluntary agencies (VOLAGS), which support refugees approved for resettlement in the United States.

I’ve never had so much responsibility.

Often my coworkers and I dash out for food and then return to work as the sun sets and Cairenes fill the street, as they always do at night.

After a while it seems to stop mattering who I am, where I come from or what I look like. My clients say they trust me and I do all I can for them.

————————————————————-

We’re driving past the “Lion Bridge’ overlooking the shimmering Nile. A highly decorated car stops across the street and a glittering bride, dressed in a white dress emerges. Men beat drums in celebration, feluccas pass below us, and children hassle tourists and Egyptians alike with pleas to buy tissues and sweet-smelling flower necklaces.

My Egyptian friend is asking why I chose my work when I do not get paid.

I tell him how much I’m learning. How I believe it’s important, if we have the opportunity, to do something we’re passionate about.

I’m going to spend more time working than doing anything else in my life. I can’t put all those hours of my life toward something I don’t believe in.

————————————————————————

I’m sitting in the back of a cab with two co-workers, discussing my pending trip to Israel and Palestine.

When I say, “Israel” my Iraqi coworker warns me the cab driver is giving me looks and I shouldn’t use the word.

I am not going to adjust to hatred or ignorance. I continue talking about my trip to, “Israel and Palestine.”

——————————————————————————–

It is slightly after 6 a.m., November 30^th, 2009. I hop off the bus at Taba bus station and walk about 10 minutes until I reach the Egyptian side of the Taba boarder.

Another 10 minutes I’m standing in front of an Israeli woman my age. She wears a tan military uniform, makeup and her sleek dark hair is held in a tight, low pony-tail.

She wants to know what I think about Judaism, why I live in Egypt, what I know about the “conflict” with Palestinians, what I think about it, if I speak Arabic, why I study Arabic, (doesn’t your school have a program to Israel?) and why I want to visit Israel now.

Does she want to know if I’m a terrorist, an Anne Marie Murphy, or if I’m a Jew gone awry?

I wonder if she has left Israel, what she has learned about the outside world and what she has seen.

Maybe I think too much as I answer her questions.

I could not tell you exactly when that treacherous smirk crept on my face…..

———————————————————————

It’s December 11^th and I’m sitting in a bouncy microbus, heading back to Cairo.

I strike up a conversation with the other two women aboard. Both Egyptian, one trained as a lawyer the other as a teacher.

They want to know what I was doing in Israel, why I would go and what I thought.

They tell me they think America is controlled by Jews and Zionists and the Israelis have our nation in their pocket. They tell me September 11^th was caused by Jews, who conveniently run the media too.

The other passengers chime in.

Of course I disagree. I am horrified they harbor such ideas and theories, though not surprised. Living and traveling in Arab countries, I’ve had similar discussions many times before.  I believe minds can change with accurate information and analysis.

I spend the rest of the bus ride sharing views, disagreeing and discussing.

From where do we get these beliefs? Why do we think they’re true? What do we gain by holding on to them?

There is so much I too do not know, but I share what I do.

We talk about American politics, about how when Obama makes a promise there is still congressional process to contend with before ideas become policy. We talk about the minority of Jews in the United States and how they are still discriminated against and not often in national offices.  We talk about the Arab governments and their lack of actions to help Palestinians. We talk about media, our own misconceptions and biases.

When we near Cairo the women offer me a ride downtown and invite me out for coffee.

We do not agree, but we’ve started a discussion.

Of new computers, compensation and miraculous Apple hard-drives

Home in New York, new laptop in hand:

Though Israel has yet to compensate me for their bullets through my laptop, my life and work must go on. Not having a computer for two weeks has been interesting–in Israel I had little distraction from human interactions. Back in Egypt I couldn’t keep up with the explosion of laptop-shooting-hype.

Now I’m back. Ready to take you along for my laptop debacle, approve your comments, and keep on blogging–like I did for the last eight months for my friends and family.

———————

At the Apple Store on Bolyston street in Boston, I purchase a new Macbook. The options have changed for the better since my last purchase. Sweet!

The Apple’s techies say they can only transfer the data from my hard drive if I can bring in the computer. Yeah…Not happening.

I call a couple friends with love for Macs. There are a lot of those people in college…..My friend hooks me up with his external casing, and shouts the good news–your hard-drive survived! Everything’s here!

In the following hours my friends have to remind me I’ve been across the world for eight months and deserve to spend time with them, not my new computer with beloved old data and lots of emails.

Not censoring, just traveling

If you have commented it should show up within the next day. I’m not censoring, just busy traveling.

My goal on this trip was to explore and learn. To see things for myself.

I’m using this incident as a chance to discuss, learn and question. I hope you’ll join me….

I loved my experience, learned a lot and hope to share more positive anecdotes, as well as laptop updates, in the coming days.

Also, thanks for the invitations, however I am no longer in Israel or the Palestinian areas.

Beyond the laptop

Thanks for all the interest, humor and advice regarding my laptop craziness.

First, I completely agree with Freitas’s comment. “These guys shoot every day at unarmed people, even children. Why so much surprise about a simple laptop?”

Though a visual and poignant incident that captures a lot of sentiment and fault with Israeli policies and practices, unfortunately there are many more issues to get riled over. Let’s redirect the outrage over the laptop and focus on more serious grievances?

I’m busy at work, but this just caught my eye: http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/cif-green/2009/dec/09/gaza-children-palestinian-babies

That said, obviously there is interest in this incident. The Israeli security’s decision to shoot my laptop was nonsensical on multiple levels–unprovoked, unduly aggressive, a waste of government funds, etc

So to answer a FAQ:

Compensation? The manager on duty at the Israeli border gave me a form with phone numbers and an addresses of Israeli government offices in cities throughout Israel.

He promised I could go to any office the next day and they would help me get another laptop.

I was under the impression they would directly purchase from a local Apple store.

Pshh…silly me.

After spending most of a day calling the number with no response, and trying to locate a building Israelis I encountered didn’t know the location of, I was lucky enough to connect with a social worker at the tourism ministry.  With his guidance,  I was able to meet with an Israeli government employee the next day.

She passed me on to another man who took pictures of my laptop and said the process I was to go through was the same as any Israeli who had property damaged by military or “terrorist” acts.

They told me I can expect compensation (deliverable to an Israeli bank account only) in about a month. Though I asked to see the report– i.e. how much they’re planning to compensate me, so far, no news.

Let the countdown begin….??

I’m sorry but we blew up your laptop (welcome to Israel)

I was sitting on the deck overlooking the Red Sea. Israeli security officers (most who looked around 18 years old) had completed around two hours of questioning and searching me. They had pressed every sock and scarf with a security device, ripped open soap and had me strip extra layers. They asked me tons of questions–where are you going? Who do you know? Do you have a boyfriend? Is he Arab, Egyptian, Palestinian? Why do you live in Egypt? Why not Israel? What do you know about the ‘conflict’ here? What do you think? They quized me on Judaism,which I know nothing about.

Then they asked me to wait. Since they had asked for friends and families phone numbers I assumed they might be calling to verify my answers to questions or confirm I really had extended family in Tel Aviv.  An announcement played over the sound system, interrupting my break in the sunshine. First in Hebrew, then Arabic, then in English. It was something along the lines of, ” do not to be alarmed by gunshots because the Israeli security needs to blow up suspicious passanger luggage.”

I went inside to check on my bag. I had left it unattended, where they instructed. It was still there so I went back outside.

Moments later a man came outside and introduced himself as the manager on duty. And then, “I’m sorry but we had to blow up your laptop. “

What….all my client case notes and testimony, writing, pictures, music and applications. Years of work. NO!!!! What?? Are you insane?? What were you thinking? THAT’S ALL MY WORK!?

After much yelling, crying and frantic phone dialing (don’t be alarmed if I called you repeatedly this morning), he took me outside to see the wreckage. It turned out it hadn’t been quite blown up, but rather shot through with three bullets. We were able to extract the hard drive, seemingly unscaved. Thank goodness…

Security had never asked for my password. Was it my peeling Arabic stickers on the keyboard? Or something else during the questioning which set them off?

Toward the beginning of the search an officer began clicking through the photos on my camera.  She froze on a picture  of graffiti, which read “Fuck” scrawled next to the Jewish star of David. “Why do you have this picture?” She asked me rather aggressively. “Because I was disturbed by it too,” I answered. She didn’t press the subject but continued clicking…presumably looking at pictures from a photo exhibit about Israel’s January attack of Gaza.

Though I usually delete all my pictures when uploading, unluckily I had clicked save rather than delete when uploading this set and never got around to manually deleting on my camera. Whoops…

Among other suspicious item; an Arabic phrasebook, a journal entry that mentioned a Palestinian(yes, they even flipped through my journal), stamps from Syria, Qatar and the UAE, Palestinians in Palestine guidebook, and a map a friend had drawn with a main street in Jerusalem, the central bus station and my intended hostel. “Who are you meeting there?” They asked me.

Anyway I am in Jerusalem. Years of my life and my RLAP work is not destroyed. *sigh*. Insha’allah I will like Israel better tomorrow….

—

They’ll be killed in the morning

There are always a few animals visible in my neighborhood–donkeys, stray goats etc, however tonight, walking home from an Egypt-style Thanksgiving, an unusual amount of cows, sheep and goats stood tied in the streets.

Tonight is the eve of Eid-al Adha or “Festival of Sacrifice, a Muslim holiday commemorating biblical Ibrahim’s willingness to sacrifice his son to God. Many families who can afford to, will kill animals around 7:00 or 8:00 a.m (after the Eid prayer) and not eat more than 20 percent of the meat themselves. According to Islam, the rest  is divvied up between the poor–i.e. the sacrifice.

As I began snapping pictures my Egyptian friend began getting defensive about the tradition. My purpose, my curiosity is in no way to criticize Islam or the practice. For me it’s not about religion at all, but rather about making the connection between what we eat and where it comes from. Though for months I’ve walked past hanging animal carcasses nonchalantly, I have not seen animals killed or the whole carcasses butchered. Though in the States I often look for cage free and organic labels, like many I am happy to eat meat without much thinking about where it comes from or how live beings turned into yummy dinners.I have never looked into the eyes of an animal that would later end up on my dinner plate.

Here’s some of the animals I saw walking home tonight. They’ll be killed, prepared and and feasted on tomorrow. (PS This post was Mostafa’s idea).

-

Just soccer? Pshh

As the game progressed the Egyptians looked more sullen and spoke even less.

I poked my Canadian coworker.

This is strange. It’s like the Egyptians are bottling their anger and disappointment.

Though no sports fan, I enjoy sitting back and socializing over games with enthusiastic friends, sharing their excitement and learning a thing or two about the complicated world of sports so many swear by. (It’s similar to my fascination with religion…)

Yet, this game,the outcome of which would determine whether Egypt or Algeria would compete in the World Cup in South Africa, was different. No one talked, snacked or drank and tension filled the air. Though all day Egyptians had laughed, dawned flags and face-paint, now few looked like they were actually enjoying the action.

When Algeria scored the single goal toward the beginning of the match, there was complete silence. Did that really, happen? I squinted at the new “1” marking Algeria’s score, the replays and those around me. Though I was at an extremely crowded outdoor cafe, with tons more surrounding, there were no boos, or any other insults yelled at the offending goal.

Maybe they’re collectively not optimists? I wondered. During the previous game, which led them to this tie breaker, they scored in the first moment and last. They had needed to win by at least two points to advance and they had done it. After such a victory, the lack of optimism throughout the entire game surprised me. Rather than being a fun, social experience, the game seemed intensely personal to the Egyptian viewers.

The game ended and spectators rose and dispersed. The loudest noise was employers at the cafe forcefully stacking the cheap plastic chairs. We hurried out of their way.

Leaving the game my Egyptian friend confided he was relieved Egypt had lost.

The people can’t handle it, he explained. They’d go crazy. There’d be riots.

He also thought it would lead to less opposition toward Mubarak because as the primary supporters of the football team, Egyptians would environ the regime with their nationalistic aspirations for the team. Driving away from the cafe, our cab driver shared his views.

The next evening, another Egyptian friend and I sat in traffic in Zamalek. A natural occurrence in Cairo, we didn’t think much of it until we encountered riot police blocking entire streets and gangs of screaming boys donning Egypt flags and loud words.

In the past days, what seemed like it was going to be a losing M3lesh (whoops) for Egypt, quickly blocked from memory, has turned into a national and international attention steeling  debacle. Though security concerns were present from the beginning, (BBC reported 15,000 security forces were at attention at the game in Sudan) because of pre-game violence, including Egypt attacking and injuring Algerian players in their bus and Algerians ransacking Egyptian businesses in Algeria, the level has quickly escalated and gained international attention.

Last week both nations recalled their ambassadors, leading the debate to switch from football to Arab unity and the secretary general of the Arab League, Amr Moussa, used the opening of the World Economic Forum to call for peace between the two Arab nations. BBC has also reported that Amr Moussa asked Libyan leader Col Muammar Gaddafi to mediate. So practical…

Verdict of the moment? Seems like Egypt might as have well won the match for all the trouble and politics being squeezed out of the plays.

Some links I referred to–though I’m in no way saying they’re all reliable news sources–part of the fun is the rumors. Part of the interest is the unverified facts and motives of the reports.

http://www.reuters.com/article/latestCrisis/idUSGEE5AL0EV

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/8366739.stm

http://www.magharebia.com/cocoon/awi/xhtml1/en_GB/features/awi/features/2009/11/24/feature-02

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/8377211.stm

http://www.echoroukonline.com/eng/index.php?news=8489

http://news.yahoo.com/s/afp/20091120/wl_africa_afp/egyptalgeriaunrest