A'isha
Miss Schoolteacher
The recent "Arab Spring" uprising in Egypt hit surprisingly close to home today
This afternoon, while perusing a website, I was prompted to ask a question that, in retrospect, I am seriously ashamed of myself for not asking before.
In answer to that question, I learned the sketchy details of what happened to 70-year-old Laila Abdallah, her son Mohamed El-Markabi, her grandson Ibrahim El-Markabi, and their families, living in Alexandria, Egypt. During the height of the protests against Mubarak, they stayed huddled in their compound, guarded by the men of the family, afraid to even go out at night.
I was concerned about them, and ashamed I never asked the question before, because the site I was perusing was my family's genealogy website (maintained by my father), and the person I asked that question of was my father. You see, Laila Abdallah is my cousin, albeit slightly removed - her grandfather and my great-grandfather were brothers.
I'm awaiting the details from my uncle, but according to my father, Laila and her family came through it all okay, though in the aftermath she left on an extended visit to relatives in Europe. And I don't blame her!
Given who I am and who my family in America has been since we arrived on these shores, it's perhaps excusable that I didn't stop to think of my Egyptian cousins before now. But it still brought home the events of Egypt to me in a way I didn't expect in the least, but in a way that I really, really should have, since this was not exactly the first time I'd explored the results of my dad's genealogical research.
I feel more than a little ashamed at my tardiness here!
This afternoon, while perusing a website, I was prompted to ask a question that, in retrospect, I am seriously ashamed of myself for not asking before.
In answer to that question, I learned the sketchy details of what happened to 70-year-old Laila Abdallah, her son Mohamed El-Markabi, her grandson Ibrahim El-Markabi, and their families, living in Alexandria, Egypt. During the height of the protests against Mubarak, they stayed huddled in their compound, guarded by the men of the family, afraid to even go out at night.
I was concerned about them, and ashamed I never asked the question before, because the site I was perusing was my family's genealogy website (maintained by my father), and the person I asked that question of was my father. You see, Laila Abdallah is my cousin, albeit slightly removed - her grandfather and my great-grandfather were brothers.
I'm awaiting the details from my uncle, but according to my father, Laila and her family came through it all okay, though in the aftermath she left on an extended visit to relatives in Europe. And I don't blame her!
Given who I am and who my family in America has been since we arrived on these shores, it's perhaps excusable that I didn't stop to think of my Egyptian cousins before now. But it still brought home the events of Egypt to me in a way I didn't expect in the least, but in a way that I really, really should have, since this was not exactly the first time I'd explored the results of my dad's genealogical research.
I feel more than a little ashamed at my tardiness here!
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