Page 1


‫صالون‬ ‫الرصيف‬

CAIRO Manar Moursi & David Puig

Onomatopee and Al Kotob Khan for Publishing

SIDEWALK SALON: 1001 STREET CHAIRS OF CAIRO Manar Moursi & David Puig, 2015 Launched in the Netherlands with an exhibition of the project, curated by Manar Moursi and David Puig, at Onomatopee project-space, October 2015 ISBN: 978-94-91677-47-2 PHOTOS: © All photos by Manar Moursi and David Puig, except images on p. 9 (Reuters), p. 10 (AP), p. 97 (AFP), p. 98 (AP), p. 117 (Reuters), p. 118 (AP), p. 123 (AFP), p. 124 (Reuters), p. 127 (AP), p. 128 (Reuters), p. 215 (AP), p. 216 (AP) DESIGN: © Sandra Kassenaar PRODUCTION AND EDITORIAL WORK: © Manar Moursi and David Puig TEXTS: © Manar Moursi and David Puig, Yasser Abd al-Latif, Mohamed al-Fakharany, Al-Taher Sharkawy, Amira Hanafi, Maged Zaher and Malaka Badr TRANSLATIONS FROM ARABIC TO ENGLISH: © Adam Talib (texts by Yasser Abd al-Latif, Mohamed al-Fakharany and Al-Taher Sharkawy), Robin Moger (poem by Malaka Badr), Elisabeth Jaquette (interviews) TRANSLATIONS FROM ENGLISH TO ARABIC: © Ehab Abdel-Hamid (texts by Manar Moursi and David Puig) COPY EDITING ENGLISH: Rajni George and Jeaninne Diego COPY EDITING ARABIC: Mostafa Abdallah, Rehab Wahdan, Hassan Ragab and Ashraf El Shazly PRINTING AND LITHOGRAPHY: robstolk® Onomatopee, Manar Moursi and David Puig © 2015

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission from the authors and the publisher. www.sidewalksalon.com www.1001chairscairo.com

Sidewalk Salon is dedicated to Maha el Azazy, Elisabeth Puig, Moursi Kamal and Max Puig who taught us to walk, explore and see the world with humility and appreciation. It is also dedicated to the thousands of Cairene sidewalk dwellers we met, and their chairs that make their hard life a bit more comfortable. This book was made possible with the generous support of the Arab Fund for Arts and Culture, the British Council in Cairo and the Dutch Embassy in Egypt, Studio Meem and all the contributions received during our Indiegogo crowdfunding campaign from all over the world.

Our voice in this book cannot be disentangled from the many conversations we’ve had along our journey to produce it. We would like to thank all of those who supported and enriched our output and process: Cathy Costain, Shaimaa Al Banna, Anja van de Put, Cathy Khattar, Racha Salah, Karam Youssef, Freek

Lomme, Alex Feenstra, Basma Hamdy, Rana el Nemr, Ahmed Shokr, Nadia Mounier, Jeaninne Diego, Ehab Abdel-Hamid, Stan Allen, Michael Sorkin, Lydia Kallipoliti, Ingo Giezendanner, Abe Abed, Wiam el Tamami, Rajni George, Samir Elhawary, Marielle Morin, Felipe Herrera, Yasser Abd al-Latif, Miguel D. Mena, Joseph Rizk, Tarek Nasr, Mark Gamal, Elvira Giraldez, Mia Jankowicz, Suhail Malik, Hussa al Humaidhi, Sara al Nafisi, Sherifa Hamed, Hany Rashed, Jack Shenker, Joobin Bekhrad, Beth Stryker, Hadeer Ahmed Ali, Samia el Khodary, Emad Ryan, Sayem Mehmood, Hatim el Bouhairi, Javier Reyes, Adam Abd el Ghaffar, Maurice Sánchez, Ronnie Close, Maggie Hyde, Aida el Kashef, Mohamed el Shahed, Amr el Kafrawy, Leopold Lambert, Tom Dale, Farah Saafan, Gaétan du Roy, Ganzeer, Mohamed Saqr, Adam Talib, Alia Mortada, Moritz Mihatsch, Gabriella Bonetti, Yasmin Elayat, Lina Ayala, Adriana Navarro, Riziki House, Krishna Bhavsar, Marwa Kamaleldin, Tania Puig, Mahmoud Morsi, and our Dutch support team: Edwin Gardner, Christiaan Fruneaux, Reem Saouma and Joost Janmaat. DISTRIBUTION: Anagram books (United Kingdom, Ireland and France) contact@anagrambooks.com www.anagrambooks.com Vice Versa Distribution GmbH (DE, CH, AT, NL, Scandinavia) info@vice-versa-distribution.com www.vice-versa-distribution.com Múltiplos (Spain and Portugal) info@multiplosbooks.org www.multiplosbooks.org Ram Publications (North America) orders@rampub.com www.rampub.com Perimeter Distribution (Australia and New Zealand) hello@perimeterdistribution.com www.perimeterdistribution.com Kotob Khan (Africa and Middle East) info@kotobkhan.com www.kotobkhan.com Onomatopee (other areas) shop@onomatopee.net www.onomatopee.net

p. 105 WARD AND MAZZIKA Mohamed al-Fakharany p. 111




p. 126 POEM Malaka Badr

p. 11 A CONFEDERACY OF CHAIRS Manar Moursi & David Puig p. 25 SERIES & INTERVIEWS p. 99 THE SOUL-CRUSHING CAFE Yasser Abd al-Latif



In one of the many sidewalk coffeehouses which dot the city of Cairo, we met in the winter of 2010. Surrounded by a thin film of rumor and gossip from the tables around us, our first meeting was infused with discussions about the magnetic appeal of the capital of Egypt. A few days later, we met for a walk, and soon, walking in different parts of the city became a regular fixture in our weekend routines. We first took notice of the street chairs of Cairo in one of these walks on Port Said Avenue, which straddles the city from North to South. “A funny thing about a chair: you hardly ever think it’s there”, the American poet Theodore Roethke once wrote. And yet that day, all of a sudden, those street chairs were there. Not one or two of them, isolated, but one after the other creating some invisible thread along the sidewalk. Chairs arrive to the streets of Cairo brand new or used, after having

served time in an apartment, an office or a school. Repaired, stitched and embellished, those chairs age graciously despite being constantly on duty outdoors. Those curious everyday objects were thus the trigger for us to start our “sidewalk botany”, a four-year journey documenting, with a Polaroid camera and a voice recorder, the street chairs of Cairo and the stories of their users. This was in 2011. Since then, we’ve completed more than fifty walks all over Cairo, each one lasting between one and five hours. Our walks would start at a point identified on the map and wander wherever the chairs we found on the way led us. Typically, people on the street did not understand what we were doing. Were we sure we wanted to take a picture of an empty chair and not a portrait of them? As friends or neighbors gathered, they would sometimes explain to each other half-jokingly that we were taking a picture of the jinns, the spirits of the chair. Newer chairs were pulled out in place of the ones we wanted to photograph. Once we explained that we liked how they fixed and improved their older chairs, that we just wanted to document their innovative design solutions, they generally agreed. Our first pictures were shot with a digital camera. We found the images too glossy and bright, so we tried different options; we concluded that the subtle, slightly washed-out look of the Polaroid images corresponded well to the dusty and unkempt nature of the sidewalks of Cairo. We also liked the idea of having a formal element running through the images, and this was made possible by the Polaroid frame. Further, the Polaroid’s point and shoot simplicity and unexpected outcome, resonated with the way in which the chairs were put together; seemingly effortless and seamlessly blending with their owners

needs. Finally and more importantly, the Polaroid camera helped to break the ice and dispel people’s suspicion. Once they saw how the camera printed instant images, they asked to keep a portrait of themselves with friends or family. This gift helped to balance our request and facilitated the exchange. ***

Sidewalk Salon: 1001 Street Chairs of Cairo introduces the reader to a carefully selected assortment of Cairo street chairs from our archives. This collection aims to bring to the fore the creative practices of street design and unplanned interventions in public space that give Cairo its distinctive character. A varied set of texts — interviews, fiction, poetry and essays — intend to complement the catalogue of photographs, allowing the reader a more nuanced view of the sidewalk. The images of this book are organized into two sections: walks and thematic series. The walks give a glimpse into our method of “urban empiricism” and our excursions on foot through the city, in which we documented street chairs by indexing on maps the locations of the seats photographed. The unpredicted paths we followed can be seen as threads binding prayer beads of chairs, in which each chair is part of a sequence and an original part of that ensemble. We chose to highlight three of our walks that covered the neighborhoods of 1. Shubra – Shubra El Kheima, 2. Old Cairo – Zahraa – Dar El Salam – Maadi – Khalifa and 3. New Cairo. We selected these areas to reflect the diverse urban fabrics we encountered in a city that revealed itself as a patchwork of contrasting parts bound together: green islands, cliff-side settlements, cemeteries transformed into

residential areas, old neighborhoods in medieval Islamic quarters, endless rows of raw red brick buildings developed along striped agricultural land, and gated communities with malls and wide highways sprouting out of the desert onto the outskirts. Going through our archive of images, we began to notice families of chairs. The thematic series of the book are organized around these families, which reveal common formal elements in the structure of the chairs and shed a light on the multiple ways they are utilized on the sidewalk. Some of those sequences put together particular types of seats widespread on the streets of Cairo, like armchairs and sofas, or curious pairs of twin chairs also found regularly on the pavement. Other series focus on the life cycle of chairs, showing different phases of their decay — from their amputations to their final collapse — or the miracle of their recovery with the help of various prostheses. Diverse interventions to make street chairs more comfortable were also studied and classified by the kinds of material used: cartons, fabrics and cushions. Symbolic uses of chairs were also recorded; as signs of power and revolutionary struggle, chairs have appeared since 2011 in graffiti, stickers and advertisements plastered on the walls of the city. Though the bulk of the material collected is visual, we also conducted several interviews with the street chair users. From fruit sellers to poets sitting in Tahrir Square, each revealed their own perspective of the city in flux. For the security guard of the Russian Airlines office, the most moving memory from his archive of observations is a woman who feeds the street cats every day. Her care for other living creatures speaks to his feeling of connection to everything living, extending to the very

dust of the city. For others, spending time with women on the sidewalk is a source of shame that must be concealed. For the younger crowd, women passing by are merely a source of entertainment, to be called at from their privileged sidewalk stoops. For Mohamed in Dar El Salam, spending time on the sidewalk was how he got to first lay eyes on his wife. The pieces of fiction and the poems inspired by street chairs, commissioned for this project, also seek to bring us closer to the occupants and owners of street chairs. Writing about a passageway cafe in Downtown Cairo, Yasser Abd al-Latif recreates the atmosphere of one of the arteries of the city that brings the scale of the typical alleyways of Cairo to the wide avenues of Downtown. It speaks also of the forlornness of the nineties and the time spent on coffeehouses by wanna-be artists and creatives. Al-Taher Sharkawy’s “Elderly Company Preferred”, brings to life a bus stop seat located in front of the popular Horreya bar that any visitor or resident of Cairo has surely passed by but never taken notice of. Mohamed al-Fakharany reveals how informal vendors create makeshift seats with found objects in order to allow increased mobility and flexibility: “Ward comes out every morning, carrying a chair and a set of scales… The chair: Not a chair as such. It’s a piece of foam, square-shaped, that rests on a small crate. It doesn’t always rest on the crate, however, so in a way one could say that the square-shaped piece of foam is the chair itself.” Maged Zaher’s personal reflection on stillness and withering away while drinking tea on the sidewalk really offers a pulse of the times, and Amira Hanafi’s “Dictionary of the Revolution” inexorably ties chairs, couches and the culture

of sitting outside to recent political developments. Meanwhile our own essay, like the walls and the pavements that frame the images of chairs presented in Sidewalk Salon, can be read as the background against which to interpret the visual material of this book. It uses the prism of street chairs to reflect on Cairo and examine socio-economic, gender, design and political dynamics, and the relationship between these issues and the use of public space in the city. While this project allowed us to pursue some of our personal interests — walking, mapping, collecting — and to grasp the dimensions of the endless city, we also hoped to shed light on the unique point of view held from Cairo’s streets and sidewalks. The perspective of the guards, doormen, street sellers and cafe goers who spend a significant part of their day in this intermediate layer of the city located between heavily transited roads and buildings acted as a thermometer held — albeit accidentally — against the capital of a country facing a definitive turning point in its history.

Endnotes 1. Jean Cocteau, Maalesh (Paris: Gallimard, 1949) 42. 2. Naguib Mahfouz, Midaq Alley, trans. Trevor Le Gassick (Cairo: The American University in Cairo Press, 1975) 2. 3. Yussuf Idris, “The chair carrier,” Homecoming, Sixty Years of Egyptian Short Stories, ed. and trans. Denys Johnson-Davies (Cairo: The American University in Cairo Press, 2012) 194 –198. 4. Galen Cranz, The Chair, Rethinking Culture, Body and Design (New York: Norton, 2000) 31. 5. Geoff Dyer, Otherwise Known as the Human Condition, Selected Essays and Reviews (Minneapolis: Graywolf Press, 2011) 58. 6. Gamal Al Ghitani, “A la recherche des cafés perdus”, Le Caire (Paris: Autrement, 1985) 87. 7. Santosh Desai, Mother Pious Lady, Making Sense of Everyday India (New Delhi: HarperCollins Publishers India, 2010) 36. 8. David Sims, “Understanding Cairo’s Informal Development,” Learning from Cairo. Global Perspectives and Future Visions, ed. Beth Stryker, Omar Nagati and Magda Mostafa (Cairo: Cluster and The American University, Cairo, 2013) 38. Following David Sims, we understand by informal settlement the “residential buildings that first appeared in the 1960’s and were developed without permits or zoning, mainly on private agricultural land on the metropolitan fringes and near existing villages.”


9. Mohamed Gamal Abdelmonem, “The practice of home in Old Cairo: Towards Socio-Spatial Models of Sustainable Living,” TDSR Volume XXIII Number II (2012). Mohamed Gamal Abdelmonem uses the word harra to describe “predominantly residential communities formed around narrow, nonstraight alleyways and incorporating a limited amount of commercial activity.”

17. Edward William Lane, Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians (London: 1836). 18. “A Riche history,” The Economist 17th December 2011.

10. Mohamed Gamal Abdelmonem, “The practice of home in Old Cairo: Towards Socio-Spatial Models of Sustainable Living,” TDSR Volume XXIII Number II (2012): 40. 11. Bawabs: doormen and building superintendent who usually live with part of their family in small rooms in the ground floor of the building they work for. 12. Gilbert Sinoué (text) and Denis Dailleux (photography), Impressions d’Egypte, (Paris: Editions de la Martiniere, 2011) 16. 13. David Sims, “Understanding Cairo’s Informal Development,” Learning from Cairo. Global Perspectives and Future Visions, ed. Beth Stryker, Omar Nagati and Magda Mostafa (Cairo: Cluster and The American University, Cairo, 2013) 38. 14. Koshari: popular Egyptian dish made of rice, macaroni and lentils mixed with tomato sauce, eventually topped with fried onions, chickpeas, vinegar and hot sauce. 15. Qur’an, Sura 2, vv. 255. 16. Jane Jacobs, The Death and Life of Great American Cities (New York: Random House, 1961).






12 JANUARY 2014 MOHAMED DESSOUKY DAR EL SALAM Interviewer What’s your name? Mohamed Dessouky I Do you live here in this neighborhood?


How so?

M I liked her, and talked to her, and got to know her, and we started going out, and got engaged, and after that we got married. That’s the best thing that’s happened in my life on this street. I I want to know more, how did you get to know her?

M No not here, I come here to visit my friends.

M There’s nothing to it. When you like something, don’t you go and buy it?



And what do you do for a living?


M I’ve worked in artistic games for seven years.

M Me, when I like something, I like to get it too.

I What’s your favorite area in Cairo, here or Maadi?

I Do you know everyone here in the neighborhood?

M Mohandessin, Gameat el Dowal. I like to sit there. Everything I love and want, I find there. When I feel like going out, I feel comfortable hanging out there.

M Yes, of course; my work has been here for ages.


I by?

So, you talk to anyone who stops

Do you sit here often?

M My work is here, and my friends are here. I How long do you sit here with them? M For work, maybe nine hours. I build pool tables and I also do their finishing. If there’s nothing I need to do, I sit here outside and drink Pepsi or something. I What’s the most impressive thing that happened, or that you saw while sitting here? M A wonderful surprise is that I fell in love with my wife on this street – I met her here. She was walking by, I got to know her and we started dating.



M Of course, haven’t you stopped by and I’m talking to you?

M Yes, there are women that sit here.



Where did you get this chair?

M This chair was new, and then it broke, and we reconstructed it. I

How long have you had it for?

M This chair, oh for about ten years. Abu Alela (a work colleague) You liar, you weren’t even born then. M A metal chair, how long does that last? How many years? Where does it come from, Abu Alela? AA

It came from the steel factory.

M But we made a base and a back rest for it out of wood several times, and each time we put it together with screws. But the metal structure is solid, it’s good. I Is this chair comfortable? Do you like sitting on it? M I’ll leave that question up to you. What do you think? To be honest, it’s not comfortable. I only like big plastic chairs. I So, did you guys fix this other chair? Are you the ones who put the two chairs together like this? M Yes, we merged these two chairs with each other. With this piece of wood we wanted to hold the plastic together. It works now and we can sit on it. As for the chair that the old woman is sitting on, it’s also two chairs, a broken one joined with another one. It’s also good to sit on; it works. I Are there any women other than the old woman who sit with you, or not?


Do they get catcalled?

M Before I got married, I might have catcalled girls, but in a nice way, to make them laugh. But I’ve stopped catcalling now, because I’ve got a little girl named Hana. I When do you think you’ll throw this chair out? M When it’s completely broken and you can’t fix it up again. Sometimes there’s nothing you can do. I mean, here we put two chairs on top of each other – if all the legs broke it would be done with, but if just one leg broke we could put it on top of another chair and both of them would hold together. Do you know about the pharaohs? I



We are the pharaohs.


How so?

M The pharaohs put up with a lot, things happened to them, and tragedies befell them. They lived through that all and dealt with it, and they still had hope for tomorrow. Us Egyptians, we’re true pharaohs, we can put up with anything. And this chair, as long as it’s with us, it can put up with things too. I When you hear the word ‘chair,’ what’s the first thing you think of? M

That I’m sitting.

I You don’t think about politics. You don’t think about the president’s chair? M You’re the one who started talking about politics. I’m not going to talk about politics. I’m sick of politics.



‫الكراسي دي جبتها منين؟‬

‫م‪.‬د‪ .‬الكراسي دي كانت جاية‬ ‫جديدة واتكسرت وإحنا عملناها‬ ‫تاني بس إحنا عملنا لها خشب كذا‬ ‫مرة وركبناهم بمسامير‪.‬‬ ‫الكراسي دي مريحة؟ بتحب‬ ‫م‬ ‫تقعد عليها؟‬ ‫م‪.‬د‪ .‬هأسيب السؤال ده ليكي إنتِ‪.‬‬ ‫إنتِ شايفة إيه؟ هي على فكرة مش‬ ‫مريحة‪ .‬أنا مابحبش إال الكراسي‬ ‫البالستيك الكبيرة‪.‬‬ ‫يعني انتوا االلي مصلحين‬ ‫م‬ ‫الكرسي ده؟ انتوا اللي حاطين‬ ‫كرسيين في بعض كده؟‬ ‫م‪.‬د‪ .‬آه‪ ،‬حطينا كرسيين والخشبة‬ ‫دي علشان تمسك البالستيك تاني‬ ‫واشتغل وبيتقعد عليه‪ .‬والكرسي‬ ‫اللي "الحاجة" قاعدة عليه فيه‬ ‫واحد مكسور وحاطين الكرسيين‬ ‫فوق بعض وقاعدة عليه برضه وكويس‬ ‫وشغال‪.‬‬

‫م‪.‬د‪ .‬إحنا الفراعنة‪.‬‬ ‫م‬

‫يعنى إيه؟‬

‫م‪.‬د‪ .‬الفراعنة دول اللي هما‬ ‫بيستحملوا‪ ،‬وبتعدي عليهم حاجات‬ ‫ومآسي وبيعيشوها وبيستحملوا‬ ‫وعندهم أمل في بكرة‪ .‬إحنا‬ ‫المصريين إحنا الفراعنة حقيقي‬ ‫والله العظيم بأكلمك بجد إحنا‬ ‫زي الفراعنة بنستحمل أي حاجة‪.‬‬ ‫والكراسي دي طالما معانا‬ ‫هتستحمل‪.‬‬ ‫طب لما تسمع كلمة كرسي‬ ‫م‬ ‫إيه أول حاجة بتفكر فيها؟‬ ‫م‪.‬د‪ .‬إن أنا أقعد‪.‬‬ ‫مابتفكرش في السياسة‪.‬‬ ‫م‬ ‫مابتفكرش في كرسي الرئيس؟‬ ‫م‪.‬د‪ .‬إنتِ دخلتِ في السياسة بقى‪.‬‬ ‫بالنسبة للسياسة أنا مش هأتكلم‬ ‫في السياسة علشان أنا تعبت من‬ ‫السياسة‪.‬‬

‫طب غير "الحاجة" فيه بنات‬ ‫م‬ ‫بيقعدوا معاكم وال أل ؟‬ ‫م‪.‬د‪ .‬آه‪ ،‬فيه بنات بتقعد‪.‬‬ ‫م‬

‫فيه معاكسات؟‬

‫م‪.‬د‪ .‬أنا قبل الجواز كنت ممكن‬ ‫أعاكس بس بطريقة حلوة اللي هي‬ ‫ممكن تضحك لكن دلوقتي بطلت‬ ‫أعاكس ألن بقى عندي بنوتة اسمها‬ ‫"جنة"‪ .‬إيه رأيك في اسم "جنة" ؟‬ ‫اسم جميل‪ .‬طب إنت إمتى‬ ‫م‬ ‫ممكن ترمي الكرسي ده؟‬ ‫م‪.‬د‪ .‬لما يبوظ خالص ومينفعش‬ ‫تاني‪ .‬يعنى ده إحنا حاطين‬ ‫كرسيين فوق بعض ولو الرجلين‬ ‫اتكسروا يبقى خالص‪ .‬لكن لو رجل‬ ‫واحدة اتكسرت إحنا ممكن نحطه‬ ‫فوق كرسي تاني واالتنين يمسكوا‬ ‫بعض‪.‬‬ ‫م‪.‬د‪.‬‬ ‫م‬

‫تعرفي الفراعنة؟‬ ‫آه‪.‬‬ ‫‪191‬‬


‫‪14/1/12‬‬ ‫محمد دسوقي‬ ‫دار السالم‬ ‫المحاور‬ ‫اسمك إيه؟‬ ‫محمد دسوقي‪.‬‬ ‫م‬ ‫دي؟‬

‫إنت ساكن هنا في المنطقة‬

‫م‪.‬د‪ .‬أل‪ ،‬مش هنا‪ .‬أنا بأجي هنا‬ ‫ألصدقائي‪.‬‬ ‫م‬ ‫م‪.‬د‪.‬‬ ‫م‬

‫لكن إنت ساكن فين؟‬ ‫في المعادي‪.‬‬ ‫بتشتغل فين؟‬

‫م‪.‬د‪ .‬بأشتغل في األلعاب الفنية‪.‬‬ ‫بقالي ‪ 7‬سنين‪.‬‬ ‫إيه منطقتك المفضلة في‬ ‫م‬ ‫القاهرة هنا وال المعادي؟‬ ‫م‪.‬د‪ .‬المهندسين‪ ،‬جامعة الدول‪.‬‬ ‫بأحب أقعد هناك‪ .‬كل حاجة بأحبها‬ ‫وبأعوزها بأالقيها‪ .‬يعني لما أحب‬ ‫أخرج بأستريح هناك‪.‬‬ ‫م‬



‫م‪.‬د‪ .‬عجبتني وكلمتها وعرفتها‬ ‫وارتبطت بيها‪ .‬وكان فيه فترة‬ ‫خطوبة وبعد كده اتجوزت‪ .‬ده أحلى‬ ‫موقف في حياتي في الشارع ده‪.‬‬ ‫هو عاوز يعرف أكتر إزاي‬ ‫م‬ ‫اتعرفت عليها؟‬ ‫م‪.‬د‪ .‬عادي يعني‪ ..‬مش إنتِ لما‬ ‫يعجبك حاجة بتشتريها؟‬ ‫م‬


‫م‪.‬د‪ .‬وأنا لما يعجبني حاجة أحب‬ ‫أجيبها‪.‬‬ ‫إنت عارف كل الناس اللي‬ ‫م‬ ‫هنا في المنطقة؟‬ ‫م‪.‬د‪ .‬آه‪ ،‬أكيد علشان متربي‬ ‫بقالي كتير هنا من زمان‪.‬‬ ‫يعني إنت بتكلم أي حد‬ ‫م‬ ‫بيمرعليك؟‬ ‫م‪.‬د‪ .‬آه‪ ،‬أكيد‪ .‬مش إنتِ مريتي‬ ‫ّا وأنا اتكلمت معاكي‪.‬‬ ‫علي‬

‫إنت بتقعد هنا كتير؟‬

‫م‪.‬د‪ .‬أنا شغلي هنا و أصدقائي‬ ‫هنا‪.‬‬ ‫يعني إنت بتقعد قد إيه‬ ‫م‬ ‫هنا معاهم؟‬ ‫م‪.‬د‪ .‬كشغل ممكن ‪ 9‬ساعات‪ .‬بأعمل‬ ‫ترابيزات البلياردو وأقفلها‪.‬‬ ‫ولو مش ورايا حاجة بأقعد هنا‬ ‫بره أشرب بيبسي أو أي حاجة‪.‬‬ ‫إيه أكتر قصة مميزة حصلت‬ ‫م‬ ‫شفتها وإنت قاعد هنا؟‬ ‫م‪.‬د‪ .‬أكتر مفاجأة حلوة أنا‬ ‫حبيتها في الشارع ده إن أنا‬ ‫عرفت مراتي من هنا‪ .‬وهي معدية‬ ‫عرفتها وارتبطت بيها‪.‬‬ ‫‪190‬‬






03 JULY 2013 BASSEM, MAMDOUH AND YOUSSEF ZAMALEK Interviewer What are your names? Bassem. Mamdouh. Youssef.


Zamalek is pretty, and quiet.

Y It’s a bit boring. A bit boring with how quiet it is. I Well, what’s your favorite neighborhood in Cairo? M For me, my favorite neighborhood is Imbaba, and I never go elsewhere.


Where are you from?

Y My favorite neighborhood is Boulaq Abul-Ela.


I’m from Imbaba.



From Haram.


I was born here in Zamalek.

I Do you feel like this neighborhood has changed in the past couple of years?

I What do you do for work here? And why this sitting area with the chairs? B We're drivers, and a driver’s job is mostly to wait.


Y This neighborhood was more upscale before, and the people who work here have ruined it, not the people who live here. The people who come here to work are from a lower social

I You mean you’re waiting for you bosses? Y

Yes, until they come down.

M Four, five, six hours or something, it depends how long they’re out for in a day. So we’re used to sitting. I How long have you been working as drivers? B

For me, it’s been a year.


For me, twelve years.


And I sit here all the time.

B Until his hair turns white, look at that! (laughs) I So, let me ask each one of you, what do you think about this neighborhood?






He started crying as soon as he opened his mouth. He was sitting in front of me, a burly guy, sobbing and whimpering, and I — despite being 180 cm tall — sat there looking like a wispy child on a dwarfish chair. All the chairs in the cafe were low like that; more than they needed to be. The chairs were rattan, a halfway point in the generations of cafe seating between the older reed chairs and the new plastic ones. You could tell they’d been trimming the chair legs over and over in an attempt to balance them out as they’d begun to wobble until they’d lost any shred of their original measurements and now looked more like dwarfs with their diminutive legs. I felt uncomfortable from the moment I sat down. The only reason I go there is because there’s nowhere else for me to go at that time of early evening. I drink tea that I don’t like, brought to me against my will by a waiter who doesn’t even ask me what I want to drink. And because I don’t have the energy for protracted verbal conflict, I take it, grumbling, and drink it as if I were obliged to. I was sitting there smoking my dirt-cheap cigarettes when Hasan turned up, tough times written all over his face. He sat down across from me and started whining and crying without so much as asking. We were sitting in one of those cafes that are hidden among the towering buildings downtown. In the quadrangle around Qasr el-Nil, to be more precise, where an abundance of passageways sprung up to cope with the excessive number of buildings that were erected there. In the long, narrow stretches between buildings, passageways appeared like cracks in an elegant facade, or rather a facade that had once been elegant — a labyrinth of passageways in-between giant masses of stone. That’s certainly how it 99


would appear to you if you looked at it from a bird’s eye view or on Google Maps or Google Earth. But you’d never imagine just how much blood flows through the living capillaries of the giant city’s body. We’re sitting directly across from a serpentine network of passageways with three entrances. The first is off of Qasr el-Nil Street and if you walk straight down the passageway directly in front of you, you’ll come out the other exit/entrance on the Tahrir Square side of Champollion Street. This route runs perpendicular to another passageway, which will lead you to the third exit onto Mahmoud Bassiouny Street. Where the two passageways intersect, you’ll find a small florist’s shop where they arrange wedding bouquets in worn-out baskets and paint the wide leaves of devil’s ivy silver, tying the stifled flowers into bundles, apeing style conventions that have been around so long even the pretense of joy has been abandoned. Let’s go back to the first entrance off Qasr el-Nil, which we can call Entrance No. 1. Eighteen paces down the passageway, you’ll come to a blue door on your left whose ordinary appearance belies what’s on the other side. This is the door to After Eight, a well known club. Nowadays After Eight hosts concerts with alternative bands, which brings in all the downtown bohemians, but at the time I’m talking about, in the mid-90s, the club was an exclusive hangout for an unchanging roster of regulars. They wouldn’t even let strangers in; it was more like a members’ club. And, therefore, forbidden to us: a bunch of young guys, who’d just started going out on Fridays. We wrote poems and hung out in that area, and settled on the modest cafe directly beside the florist’s shop as our usual, after Rex, the famous old cafe on Emad el-Din Street where we’d spent our university years, had shut down The cafe got its name from the club, everyone referring to it as the After Eight Cafe, although there was no justification for doing so except that the original was nearby. The passageway was so dimly lit it was gloomy. Dull yellow lamps turned the place into a living nightmare of smoke and repellent noises: the sputter of the coal brazier, the crack of backgammon pieces and dominoes, spurts of ribald laughter. Here was where, as night gradually fell, men who worked in the marginal artistic professions would gather: assistant television and theatre directors, obscure songwriters, film production directors, and some journalists from smalltime newspapers. When they began to arrive, always in groups, the tradesmen who’d slipped away from their nearby workshops and stores — the cafe’s daytime customers — would start to leave. Then the tables were set up so the artists could play cards (Estimation was their game) till dawn, till — in the words of Sargon Boulus — “every gap in meaning took the form of a cloud of smoke” above the players’ heads. The backgammon and dominoes sets were hidden away and nothing could be heard over the sound of the card games. They made stupid bets, usually for drinks, but occasionally as high as twentyplus Egyptian Pounds, which was a colossal sum at that time and for those players. Hasan’s voice wasn’t at all clear as he recounted the tale of his illfated love against that background noise, which was still warming up as 100


night had only just fallen. The fever hadn’t taken the players yet. They weren’t yet at the stage where they couldn’t think about anything but the card game. Sobhi, an unknown stage actor, threw his cards down on the table one by one, as if with each one he was landing a blow against an anonymous opponent. Bad luck. His friend Nassar, an assistant director in television, said, “Corncob, pretty boy”, which was a way of saying you’ve won in Estimation-speak and the slang of the time. Hasan said that she was betraying him because he was crazy in love with her. The more he loved her, the more she betrayed him. And the worse thing was that she always picked his closest friends, so he’d end up losing them while getting even more attached to her. I looked up at the ceiling to avoid seeing the tortured look on his face and saw a thin strip of the dark sky between the tops of the buildings. Satellite dishes had only recently begun to swarm the rooftops of the city, heralding a new dawn.









WARD AND MAZZIKA* Mohamed al-Fakharany

Ward comes out every morning, carrying a chair and a set of scales. The scales: Old, but as fair as ever, she calls them by the name “Heartwish”. The chair: Not a chair as such — a piece of foam, square-shaped, that rests on a small crate. It doesn’t always rest on the crate, however, so in a way one could say that the square-shaped piece of foam is the chair itself. It prefers it that way. Easy and simple, no nails to weigh it down, and no one can hurt it by breaking one of its legs or its back. Even though there’s plenty of different ways in which it can be hurt, what matters to it is that it’s not the usual ailments that befall its fellow chairs. It’s called Mazzika. Ward lives in a small house near a market and a big square. Every morning, she goes out with her chair Mazzika, her scales Heartwish, a small crate of tomatoes, and a small quantity of two or three different types of vegetables. On market day once a week, she sets herself up by the entrance, but on regular days, she sits on the sidewalk outside a large government office building overlooking the square. She brings little clear bags of diced vegetables she’s prepared, which she sells to the female employees as they pass her on their way home from work. She puts the bags on the scales so the customer can check the weight and they give her money that’s been passed between many, many hands, or else will be, now that it’s found its way to her. “Have a rosy morning, Mazzika,” Ward says to me each morning and I respond, “And you have a musical one, Ward!” I like going out with her on those early mornings, the lovely cold sting that makes me shiver with pleasure. I like her world, which is always full of people, and her 105



25 January 30 June events referendum clashes strike sit-in constitutional declaration elections harassment torture ouster Friday of Rage dark alley campaign dialogue Raba’a Al Adaweya clearing of the protests Itihadeya Palace unrest repression virginity test Maspero Cabinet military trial Mohamed Mahmoud massacre transitional period hospital in the Square march reconciliation demonstration million man march Battle of the Camel Tahrir Square Al-Nahda 50 dollars agenda ambulance motorcycle ambulance onion banners boot 119

25 January 30 June events referendum sit-in

‫ارحل‬ ‫إرهاب‬ ‫استقرار‬ ‫إسقاط النظام‬ ‫أصابع خارجية‬ ‫أمان‬ ‫أمل‬ ‫انزل‬ ‫انقالب‬ ‫ايد واحدة‬ ‫باطل‬ ‫بكره‬ ‫تطهير‬ ‫تغيير‬ ‫ثورة‬ ‫ثورة مضادة‬ ‫ثورة مستمرة‬ ‫حرب أهلية‬ ‫حرية‬ ‫حظر التجول‬ ‫حقوق اإلنسان‬ ‫حكم‬ ‫الداخلية‬ ‫الدولة العميقة‬ ‫دميقراطية‬ ‫رابعة‬ ‫شرعية‬ ‫الطرف الثالث‬ ‫ظلم‬ ‫عجلة اإلنتاج‬ ‫عدالة اجتماعية‬ ‫عيش‬ ‫فوضى‬ ‫قانون الطوارئ‬ ‫قصاص‬ ‫كرامة‬ ‫محاكمة‬ ‫مستقبل‬ ‫النظام‬ 106

‫اإلعالم‬ ‫األلتراس‬ ‫امن‬ ‫بلطجية‬ ‫مترد‬ ‫ثوار‬ ‫جاسوس‬ ‫اجليش‬ ‫حراس امليدان‬ ‫حركة‬ ‫حزب‬ ‫حزب الكنبة‬ ‫حكومة انتقالية‬ ‫خرفان‬ ‫خيانة‬ ‫رئيس‬ ‫ست البنات‬ ‫شباب‬ ‫شرطة‬ ‫الشعب‬ ‫شهداء‬ ‫صندوق النقد‬ ‫علمانيني‬ ‫فلول‬ ‫قلة مندسة‬ ‫قناصة‬ ‫كافر‬ ‫جلنة شعبية‬ ‫ليبراليني‬ ‫مؤيدين‬ ‫متظاهرين‬ ‫املجلس العسكري‬ ‫مجلس رئاسي‬ ‫مجلس مدني‬ ‫مخبر‬ ‫مرشد‬ ‫معارضني‬ ‫مواطن‬ ‫ناشط‬ ‫اليسار‬ ‫أخونة‬ ‫‪105‬‬

‫اإلعالم‬ ‫األلتراس‬ ‫امن‬ ‫بلطجية‬ ‫مترد‬ ‫ثوار‬ ‫جاسوس‬ ‫اجليش‬ ‫حراس امليدان‬ ‫حركة‬ ‫حزب‬ ‫حزب الكنبة‬ ‫حكومة انتقالية‬ ‫خرفان‬ ‫خيانة‬ ‫رئيس‬ ‫ست البنات‬ ‫شباب‬ ‫شرطة‬ ‫الشعب‬ ‫شهداء‬ ‫صندوق النقد‬ ‫علمانيني‬ ‫فلول‬ ‫قلة مندسة‬ ‫قناصة‬ ‫كافر‬ ‫جلنة شعبية‬ ‫ليبراليني‬ ‫مؤيدين‬ ‫ماملجلس العسكري‬ ‫مجلس رئاسي‬ ‫مجلس مدني‬ ‫مرشد‬ ‫معارضني‬ ‫مواطن‬

‫‪the seat‬‬

‫‪Nesto Cheese‬‬ ‫‪graffiti‬‬ ‫‪shoe‬‬ ‫‪birdshot‬‬ ‫‪vinegar‬‬ ‫‪tank‬‬ ‫‪shield‬‬ ‫‪constitution‬‬ ‫‪blood‬‬ ‫‪machine gun‬‬ ‫‪bullets‬‬ ‫‪wall‬‬ ‫‪stick‬‬ ‫‪vote‬‬ ‫‪gunfire‬‬ ‫‪stone‬‬ ‫‪abaya with snaps‬‬ ‫‪paddy wagon‬‬ ‫‪gas‬‬ ‫‪homemade gun‬‬ ‫‪World Bank loan‬‬ ‫‪tear gas canister‬‬ ‫‪gas mask‬‬ ‫‪Vendetta mask‬‬ ‫‪Carina‬‬ ‫‪thethe seat‬‬ ‫‪surgical mask‬‬ ‫‪KFC‬‬ ‫‪kuffeya‬‬ ‫‪armored vehicle‬‬ ‫‪flyers‬‬ ‫‪Molotov cocktail‬‬ ‫‪goggles‬‬ ‫‪coalition‬‬ ‫‪Muslim Brothers‬‬ ‫‪terrorists‬‬ ‫‪Islamists‬‬ ‫‪the media‬‬ ‫‪Ultras‬‬ ‫‪security‬‬ ‫‪thugs‬‬ ‫‪Tamarod‬‬ ‫‪revolutionaries‬‬ ‫‪spy‬‬ ‫‪armyguards of the Square‬‬ ‫‪movement‬‬ ‫‪120‬‬

party couch party couch party * interim government constitutional declaration sheep elections traitor harassment dictator torture president ouster Sit al-Banat Friday of Rage youth dark alley police campaign the people dialogue martyrs Raba’a Al Adaweya IMF tests secularists Itihadeya Palace remnants of the old unrest regime repression a few infiltrators virginity test sniper Maspero infidel Cabinet Council of 50 military trial popular council Mohamed Mahmoud liberals massacre supporters transitional period protesters hospital in the Square SCAF march presidential council reconciliation civil council demonstration informant million man march Supreme Guide Battle of the Camel opposers Tahrir Square citizen Al-Nahda activist the left 50 dollars Brotherhoodization agenda get out the terrorism stability fall of the regime foreign fingers security hope go down coup one hand illegitimate tomorrow 121

‫إسعاف‬ ‫إسعاف طائر‬ ‫بصل‬ ‫بنرات‬ ‫بيادة‬ ‫جبنة نستو‬ ‫جرافيتي‬ ‫جزمة‬ ‫خرطوش‬ ‫خل‬ ‫دبابة‬ ‫درع‬ ‫دستور‬ ‫دم‬ ‫رشاش الى‬ ‫رصاص‬ ‫سور‬ ‫شومة‬ ‫صوت‬ ‫ضرب نار‬ ‫طوب‬ ‫عباية بكابسني‬ ‫عربية الترحيالت‬ ‫غاز‬ ‫فرد بلدي‬ ‫قرض البنك الدولي‬ ‫قنابل غاز‬ ‫قناع الغاز‬ ‫قناع فانديت‬ ‫الكرسي‬ ‫كمامة‬ ‫كنتاكي‬ ‫كوفية‬ ‫مدرعة‬ ‫منشورات‬ ‫مولوتوف‬ ‫نظارة غاز‬

‫إسعاف طائر‬ ‫بصل‬ ‫بانرات‬ ‫بيادة‬ ‫جبنة نستو‬ ‫جرافيتي‬ ‫جزمة‬ ‫خرطوش‬ ‫خل‬ ‫دبابة‬ ‫درع‬ ‫دستور‬ ‫دم‬ ‫رشاش آلي‬ ‫رصاص‬ ‫سور‬ ‫شومة‬ ‫صوت‬ ‫ضرب نار‬ ‫طوب‬ ‫عباية بكباسني‬ ‫عربية الترحيالت‬ ‫غاز‬ ‫فرد بلدي‬ ‫قرض البنك الدولي‬ ‫قنابل غاز‬ ‫قناع الغاز‬ ‫قناع فانديتا‬ ‫كارينا‬ ‫الكرسي‬ ‫كمامة‬ ‫كنتاكي‬ ‫كوفية‬ ‫مدرعة‬ ‫منشورات‬ ‫مولوتوف‬ ‫نظارة غاز‬

‫ائتالف‬ ‫إخوان املسلمني‬ ‫إرهابيني‬ ‫إسالميني‬

‫ائتالف‬ ‫إخوان املسلمني‬ ‫إرهابيني‬ ‫إسالميني‬ 104

‫قاموس الثورة‬ ‫أميرة حنفى‬ ‫‪ 25‬يناير‬ ‫‪ 30‬يونيو‬ ‫أحداث‬ ‫استفتاء‬ ‫اشتباكات‬ ‫إضراب‬ ‫اعتصام‬ ‫إعالن دستوري‬ ‫انتخابات‬ ‫حترش‬ ‫تعذيب‬ ‫التنحي‬ ‫جمعة الغضب‬ ‫حارة مزنوقة‬ ‫حملة‬ ‫حوار‬ ‫رابعة العدوية‬ ‫فض االعتصام‬ ‫قصر االحتادية‬ ‫قلق‬ ‫قمع‬ ‫كشف عذرية‬ ‫ماسبيرو‬ ‫مجلس الوزراء‬ ‫محاكمة عسكرية‬ ‫محمد محمود‬ ‫مذبحة‬ ‫مرحلة انتقالية‬ ‫مستشفى ميداني‬ ‫مسيرة‬ ‫مصاحلة‬ ‫مظاهرة‬ ‫مليونية‬ ‫موقعة اجلمل‬ ‫ميدان التحرير‬ ‫نهضة‬ ‫‪ 50‬دوالر‬ ‫أجندة‬ ‫إسعاف‬ ‫‪103‬‬

‫‪ 30‬يونيو‬ ‫أحداث‬ ‫استفتاء‬ ‫اشتباكات‬ ‫إضراب‬ ‫إعالن دستوري‬ ‫انتخابات‬ ‫حترش‬ ‫تعذيب‬ ‫التنحي‬ ‫جمعة الغضب‬ ‫حارة مزنوقة‬ ‫حملة‬ ‫حوار‬ ‫رابعة العدوية‬ ‫فض االعتصام‬ ‫قصر االحتادية‬ ‫قلق‬ ‫قمع‬ ‫كشف عذرية‬ ‫مجلس الوزراء‬ ‫محاكمة عسكرية‬ ‫محمد محمود‬ ‫مذبحة‬ ‫مرحلة انتقالية‬ ‫مستشفى ميداني‬ ‫مسيرة‬ ‫مصاحلة‬ ‫مظاهرة‬ ‫مليونية‬ ‫موقعة اجلمل‬ ‫ميدان التحرير‬ ‫نهضة‬ ‫‪ 50‬دوالر‬ ‫أجندة‬

‫‪cleansing‬‬ ‫‪change‬‬ ‫‪revolution‬‬ ‫‪counterrevolution‬‬ ‫‪the revolution continues‬‬ ‫‪freedom‬‬ ‫‪curfew‬‬ ‫‪human rights‬‬ ‫‪rule‬‬ ‫‪Ministry of the Interior‬‬ ‫‪the deep state‬‬ ‫‪democracy‬‬ ‫‪Rabaa‬‬ ‫‪legitimacy‬‬ ‫‪the third hand‬‬ ‫‪oppression‬‬ ‫‪wheel of production‬‬ ‫‪social justice‬‬ ‫‪bread‬‬ ‫‪chaos‬‬ ‫‪emergency law‬‬ ‫‪retribution‬‬ ‫‪dignity‬‬ ‫‪trial‬‬ ‫‪future‬‬ ‫‪the regime‬‬

‫‪* Couch party is a term‬‬ ‫‪used in Egyptian politics,‬‬ ‫‪referring to the Egyptians‬‬ ‫‪who avoided participating‬‬ ‫‪in the 2011 uprising‬‬ ‫‪and in the protests that‬‬ ‫‪followed.‬‬ ‫‪122‬‬

The god who guards the world — His throne a green chair Propped on two slabs Strayed from some pathetic sidewalk paving job — Gazes wisely upon the passers-by, the residents, Knows what each soul hides. He is Judge, Adversary, and Executive, Servant/Master, Clinging to a cup of tea and hours watching, seated, Seems like he was created thus, On the corner Then passed the next six days, Godlike, filling out his forms: For the street to be here, Sharp, full of bumps, Drains to the sewers here and there That We can say will prove their worth When daily the residents are created By process of extraction; For the dry-cleaner to be here, Scowling, dead-eyed, Chewing up men’s lives in his shisha’s mouthpiece, Yet he shall be but a shadow of a god. There is a kiosk there with its sweets and cigarettes: We bestow on it a fragrance divine And by night the scent of hash floats out from it to the square. By the end of the fifth day The inhabitants are, The five-storied kingdom is, And I rise up above Creation on my sagging green throne For all to pray to me Twice daily: Peace be upon You, Magdi! Don’t forget to shut the doors to the kingdom before You sleep!

‫اإلله الذي يحرس العالم‬ ‫عرشه "فوتيه" أخضر‬ ‫مسنود على حجرين‬ ‫ضال طريقهما من عملية رصف بائسة‬ ‫ للسكان‬،‫ ينظر بحكمة للمارة‬. ‫يعرف ما تخبئ كل نفس‬ ‫هو القاضي واخلصم والسلطة التنفيذية‬ ‫هو اخلادم السيد‬ ..‫جالسا‬ ‫املعلق بكوب شاي وساعات التأمل‬ ً ‫يبدو كأمنا ُخلق هكذا‬ ‫على الناصية‬ ‫ثم أمضى األيام الست الالحقة‬ :‫يستكمل أوراق ثبوتيته كإله‬ ،‫ليكن هنا الشارع‬ ‫ ممتلئ بالندوب‬،‫حاد‬ ‫هاوية صغيرة هنا وهناك‬ ‫لنقل إنها ستثبت فائدة‬ .‫عندما ُيخلق السكان بعملية إخراج يوم ًيا‬ ‫ليكن املكوجي هنا‬ ‫متجهم ميت العينني‬ ‫يلوك حيوات اخللق ضمن مبسم الشيشة‬ .‫لكنه لن يصبح إال ظال لإلله‬ ،‫هنالك كشك احللوى‬ ،‫ولنمن عليه بنفحة إلهية‬ ً ‫فتخرج رائحة احلشيش منه إلى امليدان‬ .‫ليال‬ ،‫بنهاية اليوم اخلامس‬ .‫ليكن السكان‬ ‫لتكن اململكة املكونة من أدوار خمسة‬ ‫وألتنزه عن خلقي بعرشي األخضر املتهالك‬ ‫إلي‬ ّ ‫ليصلي كل منهم‬ :‫مرتني يوم ًيا‬ )‫ السالم عليك أيا (مجدي‬.‫ ال تنس غلق بوابة اململكة قبل أن تنام‬‫ملكة بدر‬

Malaka Badr





03 JULY 13 HUSSEIN AND ALY ZAMALEK Interviewer Hello. What are your names?

H Zamalek used to be all villas. It was 100 % upscale, but now people who live here aren’t all distinguished. I How much time do you spend sitting here?


A Maybe eight, ten hours at the most.




Where are you from?


I’m from Aswan, he’s from Luxor.

I What’s the most vibrant thing that’s happened in front of you in the street?


When did you come to Cairo?

A I’ve lived in Cairo for about forty years. H

And I’ve lived here since 1969.


Where do you live?

A I grew up in Imbaba, and I live in Ard el-Lewa now. I

And you?


In Imbaba


What do you do for a living?


We’re both drivers

I How long have you been working in this neighborhood? A I’ve been in this neighborhood for twelve years. H

I’ve been here thirty years.

I sit here for seventeen hours.

A Having companionship and spending so much time together makes our sitting here at work more bearable and enjoyable. I Is there anything that happened in front of you while you were sitting here on this chair that you found interesting? A So you see we’ve got two chairs here; there’s also the guard across the street and sometimes we steal his chairs – then he sees us when we leave to go get something, and he takes his chairs back, then we go and steal them from him again. That’s just something we do for fun, we tease each other, and that’s what happens between us back and forth. I Are there women who pass the time sitting with you? A There are cleaners who work in the houses, they pass by on their way to work.

I So, what do you think of this neighborhood?

H No, there aren’t any women, just you sitting here and that’s it.

H Zamalek is known all over the world. It’s quiet, it’s a good area. A long time ago the Pashas lived here and no one else was allowed to enter.

(Another man interjects) What do you mean? There’s Um Mohammed, the doorman’s wife, who sits there with you guys.

I So its fame has changed in the past several years?

H No, the doorman’s wife sits there, man.




So are there women or not?

(The same man) Yes, sometimes the doormen’s wives sit by the door of the building. What’s the problem; tell her the truth, tell her what happens!! I So, where did you get these chairs from? H Whenever people come out to throw their things, or sell them, we take them. We tell them we’ll take that chair and it stays with us for maybe six months, or a year, and we make use of it, and then we throw it out and go looking for another one like it.

H We don’t sit on it a lot, because we’re all drivers; they tell us go here, come here. A And any time we finish working we come here and sit on it, of course, we don’t have anywhere else to sit. I So, what’s the first thing that comes to mind when I say the word ‘chair’? A We think about this chair of ours, and the ones at home. I So you don’t think about Morsi’s chair?

I And what did you have before those chairs?

A No. There’s a lot of people who want to be sitting on Morsi’s chair, but thank God we only want to be sitting in our own chairs.

H There was a bench we used to sit on.

I So, who do you think should be sitting on Morsi’s chair?

A Yes, we used to sit on it a lot, and obviously with time it wore out.

A I’d prefer that Morsi keeps sitting there.

I What do you think about this chair; is it comfortable and good to sit on?

H I’d prefer that someone good sits there; not just anyone can sit on that chair.



A He’s a man that’s not greedy. He’s not after material gains. I mean, there are other people with greedy ambitions, but he’s not after the throne. I So what do you think that chair looks like? A It’s plush and covered with gold, of course; I mean it’s got to be something really lavish. H The chair is square and gilded, and when someone chic sits on it, he can relax back, not like our chairs that eat our thighs from underneath! (laughs) I So, do you feel like instead of being plush and gilded, that the chair of the president should look more like this chair? H No, it should be a lavish chair. Not just anyone can sit on the chair we have, people who are really destitute are the ones who sit on them. The president doesn’t sit on a chair like this! I What do you think about Tutankhamun’s throne? H

Honestly, we don’t know it.

A It’s really great, of course. It’s one of the best thrones in the world. I chair think we’re

And what do you think about the in Ayet el Kursi? How do you that relates to the situation in today?

A Ayet el Kursi is something else entirely. If you want to relax at home, you listen to Ayet el Kursi.


‫أنا أفضل الكويس اللي‬ ‫ح‬ ‫يقعد على الكرسي ألن مش أي حد‬ .‫يقعد على الكرسي‬ ‫هو الراجل معندوش طموح‬ ‫ع‬ ‫ يعني فيه ناس‬.‫في الكرسي بتاعه‬ ‫تانية عندها طموح لكن هو مش‬ .‫غاوي الكرسي‬ ‫طب حضرتك في تخيلك الكرسي‬ ‫م‬ ‫ده عامل إزاي؟‬ ‫أكيد طبعا مبطن ومطلي‬ ‫ع‬ .‫بالذهب يعني حاجة فخمة أكيد‬ ،‫منظره كرسي مربع ومذهب‬ ‫ح‬ ‫ولما الناس الشيك تقعد على‬ ‫الكرسي بتتقصع لورا مش زي ده‬ )‫اللي أكل أفخادنا من تحت (ضحك‬ ‫طب إنت حاسس إن الكرسي بدل‬ ‫م‬ ‫ مش المفروض‬،‫ما يبقى مذهب ومبطن‬ ‫يكون عامل أكتر زي الكراسي دي‬ ‫وال إنت حاسس إنه المفروض يكون‬ ‫كده يعني يكون كرسي فخم؟‬ .‫ كرسي فخم‬،‫أل‬


‫الكرسي بتاعنا ده مش أي‬ ‫ح‬ ‫ الناس التعبانة‬،‫حد يقعد عليه‬ ‫ واحد رئيس‬.‫هي اللي تقعد عليه‬ ‫جمهورية مايقعدش على الكرسي‬ !!‫ده‬ ‫طب إيه رأيك في كرسي توت‬ ‫م‬ ‫عنخ آمون؟‬ .‫وهللا إحنا مانعرفهوش‬


‫ ده‬.‫دي حاجة عظيمة طبعا‬ ‫ع‬ .‫من أغلى كراسي العالم‬ ‫وإيه رأيك في الكرسي اللي‬ ‫م‬ ‫في «آية الكرسي»؟ وعالقة ده‬ ‫باللي إحنا فيه دلوقتي؟‬ ‫«آية الكرسي» دي حاجة‬ ‫ع‬ ‫ الواحد لو عاوز يستريح‬.‫تانية‬ .»‫في بيته يسمع «آية الكرسي‬


‫نفس الصوت آه‪ ،‬فيه مرتات‬ ‫البوابين ساعات بيبقوا‬ ‫قاعدين على باب العمارة‪ .‬إيه‬ ‫المشكلة ما تقولوا اللي بيحصل‬ ‫والحقيقة!!‬ ‫م‬ ‫منين؟‬

‫طب الكراسي دي جت لكم‬

‫كل واحد بييجي يرمي‬ ‫ح‬ ‫الحاجة بتاعته أو يبيع حاجة‬ ‫إحنا بناخدها‪ ،‬بنقولهم إحنا‬ ‫هناخد الكرسي ده ويقعد معانا‬ ‫الكرسي فترة ممكن ‪ 6‬شهور أو سنة‬ ‫ويستهلك ونرميه ونروح ندور على‬ ‫واحد تاني غيره‪.‬‬

‫آه‪ ،‬مريح طبعا وقعدته‬ ‫ع‬ ‫كويسة طبعا‪.‬‬ ‫إحنا مش بنقعد كتير قوي‬ ‫ح‬ ‫عليه ألن إحنا كلنا سواقين‬ ‫يقولوا لنا روح هنا وتعالى هنا‪.‬‬ ‫ولما بنخلص شغل في أي وقت‬ ‫ع‬ ‫بنيجي نقعد عليه طبعا ومابنالقيش‬ ‫حتة تانية نقعد عليها‪.‬‬ ‫طب إيه أول حاجة بتيجي في‬ ‫م‬ ‫بالك لما أقول كلمة كرسي أصال؟‬ ‫بنفتكر الكرسي بتاعنا ده‬ ‫ع‬ ‫وبالذات في البيت‪.‬‬

‫م‬ ‫إيه؟‬

‫وقبل الكراسي دي كان فيه‬

‫م‬ ‫مرسي؟‬


‫كان فيه دكة بنقعد عليها‪.‬‬


‫وإيه اللي حصل للدكة دي؟‬


‫اتكسرت خالص وقدمت‪.‬‬

‫أل‪ .‬الكرسي بتاع مرسي ده‬ ‫ع‬ ‫فيه ناس كتير عندها طموحات في‬ ‫كرسي مرسي لكن إحنا الحمد هلل‬ ‫لينا طموحات في الكرسي بتاعنا‪.‬‬

‫آه‪ ،‬كنا بنقعد عليها كتير‬ ‫ع‬ ‫طبعا ومع الزمن هلكت‪.‬‬ ‫إيه رأيك في الكرسي نفسه‬ ‫م‬ ‫ككرسي هل مريح وقعدته كويسة؟‬


‫يعني مش الكرسي بتاع‬

‫طب مين في رأيك المفروض‬ ‫م‬ ‫يكون قاعد على الكرسي بتاع‬ ‫مرسي؟‬ ‫ع‬ ‫عليه‪.‬‬

‫أنا أفضل مرسي يبقى قاعد‬


‫‪13/7/3‬‬ ‫حسين و علي‬ ‫الزمالك‬ ‫المحاور‬ ‫حضرتك اسمك إيه؟‬ ‫حسين‪.‬‬ ‫علي‪.‬‬ ‫م‬

‫حضرتك منين؟‬

‫أنا من أسوان‪ ،‬وهو من‬ ‫ع‬ ‫األقصر‪.‬‬ ‫م‬

‫إمتى جيتوا القاهرة؟‬

‫أنا بقالي بتاع ‪ 40‬سنة في‬ ‫ع‬ ‫القاهرة هنا‪.‬‬ ‫ح‬

‫وأنا من سنة ‪.69‬‬


‫وحضرتك عايش فين؟‬

‫اتربيت في إمبابة ومقيم‬ ‫ع‬ ‫دلوقتي في أرض اللواء‪.‬‬ ‫م‬



‫في إمبابة‪.‬‬


‫حضرتك بتشتغل إيه؟‬


‫إحنا االتنين سواقين‪.‬‬

‫بقالك قد إيه هنا في‬ ‫م‬ ‫المنطقة دي؟‬

‫طب هي اتغيرت في الشهور‬ ‫م‬ ‫والسنين اللي فاتت؟‬ ‫الزمالك زمان كان كلها‬ ‫ح‬ ‫فيلل وكانت ‪ %100‬راقية لكن‬ ‫دلوقتي سكن فيها جماعة مش قد‬ ‫كده‪.‬‬ ‫حضرتك بتقضي وقت قد إيه‬ ‫م‬ ‫قاعد هنا؟‬ ‫ع‬

‫ممكن ‪ 10 8‬ساعات بالكتير‪.‬‬


‫‪ 17‬ساعة وأنا قاعد هنا‪.‬‬

‫إيه أكتر حاجات حيوية‬ ‫م‬ ‫بتحصل قدامكم في الشارع؟‬ ‫إن إحنا مندمجين مع بعض‪.‬‬ ‫ع‬ ‫العشرة بتخلي الواحد بيقعد في‬ ‫شغله وبيحب شغله مع عشرة الناس‪.‬‬ ‫فيه موقف أو حاجة حصلت‬ ‫م‬ ‫قدامكم لفتت انتباهكم وانتوا‬ ‫قاعدين هنا على الكرسي ده؟‬ ‫إحنا هنا قاعدين عندنا‬ ‫ع‬ ‫كرسيين وساعات بناخد من الحارس‬ ‫اللي قدامنا الكراسي بتاعته‬ ‫وساعات هو يشوفنا اتحركنا من‬ ‫هنا بنجيب حاجة يروح هو واخد‬ ‫الكراسي بتاعته وبنروح نسرقها‬ ‫منه تاني‪ .‬دي من الحاجات‬ ‫الظريفة وده اللي بيحصل بينا‬ ‫وبين بعض‪.‬‬ ‫هل فيه ستات بيقضوا وقت‬ ‫م‬ ‫معاكم قاعدين هنا على الكراسي‬ ‫برضه بتاعتهم هما وال مفيش ستات؟‬

‫ع‬ ‫سنة‪.‬‬

‫في المنطقة دي بقالي ‪12‬‬

‫فيه ناس شغالة في البيوت‬ ‫ع‬ ‫بيعدوا يروحوا شغلهم‪.‬‬


‫بقالي ‪ 30‬سنة‪.‬‬

‫م‬ ‫دي؟‬

‫طب إيه رأيك في المنطقة‬

‫أل‪ ،‬مفيش ستات حضرتك بتقعد‬ ‫ح‬ ‫هنا خالص‪.‬‬

‫ًا‪.‬‬ ‫دي الزمالك معروفة عالمي‬ ‫ح‬ ‫الزمالك دي هدوء ومنطقة كويسة‪،‬‬ ‫وكان زمان بيسكنوهاالباشاوات‪،‬‬ ‫وكان زمان الزمالك ماحدش يخش‬ ‫فيها‪.‬الزمالك كانت معروفة‬ ‫للباشاوات‪.‬‬ ‫‪31‬‬

‫(صوت حد يتدخل في الحديث)‬ ‫ليه؟! طب ما أم محمد مرات‬ ‫البواب بتقعد هنا معاكم‪.‬‬ ‫أل‪ ،‬مرات البواب بتقعد‬ ‫ح‬ ‫هناك يا عم‪.‬‬ ‫م‬

‫يعني فيه وال مفيش؟‬ ‫‪194‬‬





.8 Mohamed Gamal Abdelmonem “The practice of home in Old Cairo: Towards Socio- Spatial Models of Sustainable Living,” TDSR Volume .)2012( XXIII Number II .9 Mohamed Gamal Abdelmonem “The practice of home in Old Cairo: Towards Socio- Spatial Models of Sustainable Living,” TDSR Volume .40 )2012( XXIII Number II .10 Gilbert Sinoué (text) and Denis Dailleux (photography), Impressions d’Egypte, Paris: Editions de la .16 )2011( ,Martiniere .11 David Sims, “Understanding Cairo’s Informal Development,” Learning from Cairo, Global Perspectives and Future Visions, ed. Beth Stryker, Omar Nagati and Magda Mostafa, Cairo: Cluster and The American 38 )2011( ,University in Cairo .12 Jane Jacobs, The Death and Life of Great American Cities, New York: .)2013( ,Random House .13 Edward William Lane, Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians )1836( London .14 A Riche history, The Economist .17 )2011( December


‫هوامش‬ .1 Jean Cocteau, Maalesh .42 )1949( ,Paris: Gallimard .2 :‫ زقاق المدق (القاهرة‬،‫نجيب محفوظ‬ .6 )1947( ،‫مكتبة مصر‬ .3 ‫ من‬،»‫ «حمال الكراسي‬،‫يوسف إدريس‬‫ مكتبة‬:‫مجموعة بيت من لحم (القاهرة‬ )1971( ،‫مصر‬ .4 Galen Cranz, The Chair, Rethinking Culture, Body and Design .31 )2000( ,New York: Norton .5 Gamal Al Ghitani, “A la recherche des cafés perdus”, Le Caire (Paris: .87 )1985( ,Autrement .6 Santosh Desai, Mother Pious Lady, Making Sense of Everyday India (New Delhi: HarperCollins Publishers India .36)2010( .7 David Sims, “Understanding Cairo’s Informal Development,” Learning from Cairo, Global Perspectives and Future Visions, ed. Beth Stryker, Omar Nagati and Magda Mostafa (Cairo: Cluster and The American 38 )2013( ,University in Cairo ‫«مبان‬ ‫ هي‬،‫ في هذا السياق‬،‫والعشوائيات‬ ٍ ‫سكنية ظهرت للمرة األولي في ستينيات‬ ‫القرن العشرين وتطورت من دون تصاريح‬ ‫ باألساس على أراض زراعية‬،‫أو تخطيط‬ ‫خاصة على حواف المدن وبالقرب من‬ .»‫القرى القائمة‬


‫ميدان التحرير‪ ،‬حيث كشف كل منهم عن‬ ‫منظوره الخاص للمدينة بإسهاب‪ .‬فبالنسبة‬ ‫لرجل األمن الجالس أمام مكتب الخطوط الجوية‬ ‫الروسية‪ ،‬كانت أكثر ذكرى مؤثرة في أرشيف‬ ‫مالحظاته على الرصيف هي ذكرى امرأة تطعم‬ ‫قطط الشوارع كل يوم‪ .‬لقد جعلته رعايتها‬ ‫للكائنات الحية األخرى ‪-‬جعلته‪ -‬يشعر بالتواصل‬ ‫ً‬ ‫وصوال إلى تراب المدينة‬ ‫مع كل شيء حي‪،‬‬ ‫نفسه‪.‬في حين رأى آخرون أن قضاء الوقت مع‬ ‫النساء على األرصفة مصدر للعار يجب إخفاؤه‪.‬‬ ‫أما الشباب األصغر س ًنا‪ ،‬فيرى في النساء الالتي‬ ‫تمر بهم مجرد مصدر للترفيه‪ ،‬يتيح لهم‬ ‫«المعاكسة»من مواقعهم المميزة على أعتاب‬ ‫األبواب‪ .‬أما محمد‪ ،‬من دار السالم‪ ،‬فقد وقعت‬ ‫عيناه على زوجته أول مرة وهو جالس على‬ ‫الرصيف‪.‬‬ ‫بدورها‪ ،‬تسعى النصوص األدبية‬ ‫والقصائد المستلهمة من كراسي الشارع‪،‬‬ ‫خصيصا لهذا المشروع‪ ،‬إلى تقريبنا‬ ‫والتي كتبت‬ ‫ً‬ ‫من أصحاب كراسي الشارع‪ ،‬ومن الجالسين‬ ‫عليها‪ .‬إذ يكتب ياسر عبد اللطيف عن مقهى في‬ ‫أحد ممرات وسط البلد‪ ،‬ليعيد خلق األجواء‬ ‫في واحد من شرايين المدينة‪ ،‬بشكل يضفي‬ ‫على الشوارع الكبرى في وسط البلد إحساس‬ ‫حارات القاهرة التقليدية‪ .‬كما يتحدث نصه عن‬ ‫وحشة التسعينيات‪ ،‬والزمن الذي كان يقضيه‬ ‫على المقاهي أولئك الحالمون بأن يصبحوا‬ ‫فنانين ومبدعين‪ .‬ويقوم طاهر الشرقاوي‪ ،‬في‬ ‫نصه «مقعد يفضل صداقة العجائز» ببث الحياة‬ ‫في مقعد أحد مواقف الباصات أمام بار الحرية‬ ‫الشهير‪ ،‬الذي ال بد وأن كل زائر أو مقيم‬ ‫بالقاهرة مر به ذات مرة‪ ،‬لكنه لم يالحظه‪ .‬ويبين‬ ‫محمد الفخراني كيف يبتكر الباعة غير‬ ‫المرخصين كراسي مرتجلة باستخدام العناصر‬ ‫المتاحة ليسمحوا ألنفسهم بالمزيد من المرونة‬ ‫وحرية الحركة‪:‬‬ ‫«ورد» تفتتح النهار‪ ،‬معها كرسي‬ ‫وميزان‬ ‫‪.‬‬ ‫قادرا على‬ ‫الميزان‪ :‬قديم‪ ،‬لكنه ال يزال‬ ‫ً‬ ‫أن يكون عادالً‪ ،‬واسمه «القلب وما‬

‫يعشق»‪.‬‬ ‫كرسيا بالمعنى‬ ‫والكرسي‪ :‬ليس‬ ‫ً‬ ‫المفهوم‪ ،‬وإنما مربع من اإلسفنج فوق‬ ‫قفص صغير‪ ،‬وأحيا ًنا بدون قفص‪،‬‬ ‫بحيث يمكن اعتبار الكرسي هو مربع‬ ‫اإلسفنج وحده‪.‬‬ ‫أما التأمالت الشخصية لماجد زاهر حول‬ ‫السكون واالحتضار أثناء شرب الشاي على‬ ‫الرصيف‪ ،‬فتقدم للقارئ لمحة عن اللحظة‬ ‫الراهنة‪ .‬في حين تربط أميرة حنفي‪ ،‬في نصها‬ ‫«قاموس الثورة»‪ ،‬بصورة قاطعة‪ ،‬بين الكراسي‬ ‫واألرائك وثقافة الجلوس في الشارع وبين‬ ‫التطورات السياسية األخيرة‪.‬‬ ‫من جهة أخرى‪ ،‬يمكن قراءة مقالنا‬ ‫نحن‪ ،‬شأنه شأن الجدران واألرصفة التي تؤطر‬ ‫صور الكراسي الواردة في «صالون الرصيف»‪،‬‬ ‫بوصفه الخلفية التي تتيح تأويل المحتوى‬ ‫كراسي‬ ‫البصري لهذا الكتاب‪ .‬فهو يستخدم‬ ‫َّ‬ ‫الشارع مثل منشور زجاجي يتأمل من خالله‬ ‫القاهرة‪ ،‬ويفتش في الديناميكيات السياسية‪-‬‬ ‫االقتصادية‪ ،‬والجندرية‪ ،‬والفنية‪ ،‬والسياسية‪،‬‬ ‫والعالقة بين تلك الموضوعات وبين استغالل‬ ‫الفضاء العام في المدينة‪.‬‬ ‫وفي حين سمح لنا هذا المشروع‬ ‫باالستمتاع ببعض اهتماماتنا الشخصية‪-‬‬ ‫المشي‪ ،‬رسم الخرائط‪ ،‬هواية الجمع‪-‬‬ ‫واستيعاب أبعاد تلك المدينة الال متناهية‪ ،‬فقد‬ ‫كنا نأمل كذلك في إلقاء الضوء على وجهة النظر‬ ‫المتفردة اآلتية من شوارع وأرصفة القاهرة‪ .‬إن‬ ‫وجهات نظر الحراس‪ ،‬والبوابين‪ ،‬وباعة‬ ‫الشوارع‪ ،‬ورواد المقاهي الذين يقضون جز ًءا‬ ‫كبيرا من يومهم في هذا المستوى األوسط من‬ ‫ً‬ ‫المدينة‪ ،‬القائم بين «الترانزيت» في شوارع‬ ‫شديدة االزدحام‪ ،‬وبين التواجد داخل المباني‪،‬‬ ‫ترمومترا يقيس‪ -‬ولو بشكل عابر‪ -‬حرارة‬ ‫تمثل‬ ‫ً‬ ‫عاصمة بلد يواجه نقطة تحول حاسمة في‬ ‫تاريخه‪.‬‬

‫التصميم‪ ،‬فكانوا يوافقون عادة‪.‬‬ ‫التقطنا أولى الصور بكاميرا رقمية‪ .‬لكننا‬ ‫وجدنا الصور المعة وساطعة بشكل زائد عن‬ ‫الالزم‪ ،‬لذا لجأنا إلى خيارات أخرى؛ وانتهينا إلى‬ ‫أن صور «البوالرويد» الفورية ببساطتها وخفة‬ ‫ألوانها‪ ،‬تتناسب بشكل ممتاز مع طبيعة أرصفة‬ ‫القاهرة «المكركبة» المتربة‪ .‬كذلك أحببنا فكرة‬ ‫وجود عنصر»رسمي» في الصور‪ ،‬وتحقق ذلك‬ ‫وأخيرا‪،‬‬ ‫من خالل إطار الصور «البوالرويد»‪.‬‬ ‫ً‬ ‫وهو األهم‪ ،‬أن الكاميرا»البوالرويد»ساعدتنا‬ ‫على كسر الحواجز بيننا وبين الناس‪ ،‬وتبديد‬ ‫شكوكهم‪ .‬فبمجرد رؤيتهم للصور الفورية التي‬ ‫تخرج من الكاميرا‪ ،‬كانوا يطلبون التقاط صورة‬ ‫لهم مع أصدقائهم أو أقاربهم‪ .‬هذه الهدية كانت‬ ‫خير مقابل لطلبنا‪ ،‬وسهلت علينا مهمتنا‪.‬‬

‫***‬ ‫«صالون الرصيف» يقدم للقارئ تشكيلة منتقاة‬ ‫بعناية من كراسي الشارع في القاهرة‪ ،‬جمعناها‬ ‫من أرشيفنا‪ .‬هذه المجموعة تهدف إلى إبراز‬ ‫تصميمات الشارع المبتكرة والمشاركات‬ ‫التلقائية في الفضاء العام التي تمنح القاهرة‬ ‫شخصيتها المميزة‪ .‬وفي الوقت نفسه‪ ،‬تهدف‬ ‫مجموعة النصوص المنوعة‪ -‬مقابالت‪ ،‬نصوص‬ ‫أدبية‪ ،‬شعر‪...‬إلى أن تكمل ألبوم الصور‪ ،‬بما‬ ‫يسمح للقارئ بنظرة أكثر دقة للرصيف‪..‬‬ ‫قسمت الصور الواردة في هذا الكتاب‬ ‫إلى قسمين‪« :‬النزهات» و»التيمات»‪.‬‬ ‫«النزهات»تعطي لمحة عن منهجنا في‬ ‫المعايشة الحضرية والتجوال على األقدام عبر‬ ‫المدينة‪ ،‬حيث وثقنا كراسي الشارع عن طريق‬ ‫تحديد مواقعها التي صورناها على الخرائط‪.‬‬ ‫ويمكن النظر إلى المسالك غير المتوقعة التي‬ ‫سلكناها بوصفها خيوطًا تربط بين الكراسي‪،‬‬ ‫كما الحبات في المسبحة‪ ،‬كل كرسي منها يمثل‬ ‫أصليا من‬ ‫جز ًءا من متتالية‪ ،‬كما يمثل جز ًءا‬ ‫ً‬ ‫المجموعة الكاملة‪ .‬وقد اخترنا أن نلقي الضوء‬ ‫على ثالث من نزهاتنا التي غطت مناطق‪)1:‬‬ ‫شبرا‪ -‬شبرا الخيمة‪ )2 ،‬مصر القديمة‪-‬‬

‫الزهراء‪ -‬دار السالم‪ -‬المعادي‪ -‬الخليفة‪)3 ،‬‬ ‫القاهرة الجديدة‪ .‬وقد اخترنا تلك المناطق لكي‬ ‫نعكس األنسجة الحضرية المتنوعة التي‬ ‫التقيناها في المدينة التي كشفت نفسها كثوب‬ ‫مرقع من أجزاء متناقضة مرتبطة مع بعضها‬ ‫البعض‪ :‬جزر خضراء‪ ،‬مساكن مشيدة على‬ ‫الجروف المرتفعة‪ ،‬مقابر تحولت إلى مناطق‬ ‫سكنية‪ ،‬أحياء شعبية في ربوع القاهرة‬ ‫اإلسالمية القروسطية‪ ،‬صفوف ال تنتهي من‬ ‫المباني المشيدة بالطوب األحمر‪ ،‬أنشئت‬ ‫بطول الشريط الزراعي‪ ،‬ومجتمعات مغلقة‬ ‫ببوابات ومزودة بـ»موالت» وطرق سريعة‬ ‫واسعة تنبثق من الصحراء إلى الضواحي‪.‬‬ ‫وحين نظرنا إلى أرشيف صورنا‪ ،‬بدأنا في‬ ‫مالحظة عائالت الكراسي‪ .‬وهكذا‪ ،‬قمنا بترتيب‬ ‫تيمات الصور الواردة في هذا الكتاب حول تلك‬ ‫العائالت‪ ،‬التي تكشف سمات فسيولوجية‬ ‫مشتركة‪ ،‬وتقدم قراءات رمزية بقدر ما تلقي‬ ‫الضوء على الطرق المتنوعة الستغالل‬ ‫الكراسي على األرصفة‪ .‬بعض تلك التيمات‬ ‫أنواعا معينة من الكراسي المنتشرة على‬ ‫تجمع‬ ‫ً‬ ‫ً‬ ‫أرصفة القاهرة‪ ،‬مثل الكرسي ذي الذراعين‪،‬‬ ‫والكنبة‪ ،‬أو أزواج الكراسي «التوأم» الطريفة‬ ‫التي تشاهد كثيرا على الرصيف‪ .‬في حين تركز‬ ‫تيمات أخرى على دورة حياة الكراسي‪ ،‬وتوضح‬ ‫األطوار المختلفة الحتضارها‪ -‬بداية من البتر‬ ‫وحتى االنهيار التام‪ -‬أو معجزة شفائها بمساعدة‬ ‫عمليات الترميم المختلفة‪ .‬كذلك قمنا بدراسة‬ ‫وتصنيف أساليب التدخل المختلفة من أجل‬ ‫جعل كراسي الرصيف أكثر راحة باستخدام‬ ‫خامات مثل‪ :‬الكرتون‪ ،‬القماش‪ ،‬والوسائد‪ .‬كما‬ ‫سجلنا االستخدامات الرمزية للكراسي؛ حيث‬ ‫ظهرت الكراسي‪ ،‬بوصفها عالمات على السلطة‬ ‫والصراع الثوري‪ ،‬منذ عام ‪ 2011‬في رسوم‬ ‫الجرافيتي‪ ،‬والملصقات‪ ،‬واإلعالنات التي تلصق‬ ‫على جدران المدينة‪.‬‬ ‫ورغم أن القوام األساسي للمادة‬ ‫أيضا‬ ‫المجمعة بصري باألساس‪ ،‬فقد أجرينا ً‬ ‫عدة مقابالت مع مستخدمي كراسي الشارع‪،‬‬ ‫من «الفكهانية» إلى الشعراء الجالسين في‬

‫ص‪100.‬‬ ‫قصيدة‬ ‫ماجد زاهر‬ ‫ص‪103.‬‬ ‫قاموس الثورة‬ ‫اميرة حنفي‬

‫المحتويات‬ ‫ص‪109.‬‬

‫مقعد يفضل صداقة العجائز‬ ‫الطاهر الشرقاوي‬ ‫ص‪115.‬‬ ‫ورد ومزيكا‬ ‫محمد الفخراني‬

‫ص‪5.‬‬ ‫المقدمة‬ ‫ص‪11.‬‬ ‫اتحاد الكراسي‬ ‫منار مرسي و ديفيد بويج‬

‫ص‪119.‬‬ ‫اعترافات كرسي في مدينة القاهرة‬ ‫جابرييل لويس مانجا‬ ‫ص‪123.‬‬ ‫مقهى تحطيم االرواح‬ ‫ياسر عبد اللطيف‬

‫ص‪25.‬‬ ‫التيمات و المقابالت‬ ‫ص‪129.‬‬

‫ص‪99.‬‬ ‫قصيدة‬ ‫ملكة بدر‬

‫التيمات و المقابالت‬

‫شارك في إصدار هذا الكتاب‪ :‬أونوماتوبي‬ ‫(إيندهوفن‪ ،‬هولندا) وكتب خان (القاهرة‪،‬‬ ‫مصر)‪:‬‬

‫جميع الحقوق محفوظة‪ ،‬واليجوز‪،‬‬ ‫استخدام أي جزء من هذا الكتاب‪ ،‬أو‬ ‫استخدام أي نظام من نظم تخزين‬ ‫المعلومات واسترجاعها أو نقلها‪ ،‬كلياًّ‬ ‫أو جزئياًّ‪ ،‬في أي شكل وبأي وسيلة‪،‬‬ ‫سواء بطريقة إلكترونية أو آلية‪ ،‬بما في‬ ‫ذلك التصوير أو النسخ الفوتوغرافي‪،‬‬ ‫أو التسجيل أو أي وسيلة أخرى‪ ،‬دون‬ ‫الحصول على إذن خطي مسبق من‬ ‫المؤلفين‪.‬‬

‫سيتم أطالق الكتاب في هولندا مع معرض‬ ‫فني في مساحة أونوماتوبي سينسقه ً‬ ‫كال‬ ‫من منار مرسي و ديفيد بويج و سيتم‬ ‫إطالقه في القاهرة في خريف ‪2015‬‬

‫‪www.sidewalksalon.com‬‬ ‫‪www.1001chairscairo.com‬‬

‫صالون الرصيف‪ :‬ألف كرسي وكرسي في‬ ‫شوارع القاهرة‬

‫رقم اإليداع الدولي‪978-94-91677-47- 2 :‬‬ ‫© الصور الفوتوغرافية‪ :‬منار مرسي‬ ‫وديفيد بويج‪ ،‬عدا الصور المدرجة في‬ ‫)‪، (AP‬‬ ‫)‪ ، (AP‬ص ‪)AP(10 .‬‬ ‫صفحات‪ :‬ص ‪AP ( 9 .‬‬ ‫‪،)AP‬‬ ‫ص ‪ ( 97.‬رويترز) ‪ ،‬ص ‪(AP)( 98 .‬‬ ‫(‪،)AFP‬‬ ‫ص ‪( 101 .‬رويترز ) ‪ ،‬ص ‪(AFP) 102.‬‬ ‫)‪ ، (AP‬ص ‪( 108 .‬رويترز)‪،‬‬ ‫ص ‪)AP ( 107.‬‬ ‫)‪،)(AFP‬‬ ‫)‪ ، (AP‬ص ‪AFP (128 .‬‬ ‫ص ‪) AP (127 .‬‬ ‫ص ‪ ، (AP) 213 .‬ص ‪ ( 216 .‬رويترز )‬

‫لم يكن لهذا العمل أن يخرج للنور لوال‬ ‫الدعم السخي الذي تلقيناه من الصندوق‬ ‫العربي للفنون والثقافة والمعهد‬ ‫البريطاني بالقاهرة والسفارة الهولندية‬ ‫بالقاهرة وكافة المساهمات التي حصلنا‬ ‫عليها أثناء حملة التمويل الجماعي‬ ‫(‪ Indiegogo‬من كافة أنحاء العالم‪.‬‬ ‫)‪(Indiegogo‬‬

‫© التصميم‪ :‬ساندرا كاسنار‬ ‫© قام بكتابة نصوص هذا العمل‪ :‬منار‬ ‫مرسي وديفيد بويج وياسر عبد اللطيف‬ ‫ومحمد الفخراني وطاهر الشرقاوي وماجد‬ ‫زاهر وأميرة حنفي وملكة بدر‬ ‫© قام بالترجمة من اللغة العربية إلى‬ ‫اإلنجليزية‪ :‬آدم طالب (النصوص المقدمة‬ ‫من ياسر عبد اللطيف ومحمد الفخراني‬ ‫وطاهر الشرقاوي) وإليزابيث جاكيت‬ ‫(المقابالت الشخصية) و روبن مجر‬ ‫(قصيدة ملكة بدر)‬ ‫© قام بالترجمة من اللغة اإلنجليزية إلى‬ ‫العربية‪ :‬إيهاب عبد اللطيف (النصوص‬ ‫المقدمة من منار مرسي وديفيد بويج)‬ ‫قام بتحرير النسخة اإلنجليزية‪ :‬راجني‬ ‫جورج وجنين ديجو‬ ‫قام بتحرير النسخة العربية‪ :‬مصطفى عبد‬ ‫الله و رحاب وهدان وحسن رجب وأشرف‬ ‫الشاذلي‬ ‫الطباعة‪ :‬روبستولك‪ ،‬امستردام‬ ‫© أونوماتوبي‪ ،‬منار مرسي وديفيد‬ ‫بويج ‪2015‬‬

‫نهدي كتاب «صالون الرصيف» لكل من‪:‬‬ ‫مها العزازي وإليزابيث بويج ومرسي كمال‬ ‫وماكس بويج الذين تعلمنا على أيديهم‬ ‫كيف نتفقد الطرقات ونستكشف الجديد‬ ‫ونرى العالم بروح التواضع والتقدير‪ .‬كما‬ ‫نهديه لآلالف من قاطني األرصفة القاهرية‬ ‫الذي تقابلنا معهم واستمعنا للقصص‬ ‫التي قصوها علينا وشاهدنا الكراسي التي‬ ‫تخفف عنهم‪ ،‬ولو بقدر ضئيل‪ ،‬من أعباء‬ ‫الحياة‪.‬‬ ‫ال يمكن فصل صوتنا الذي يجسده هذا‬ ‫الكتاب عن الكثير من الحوارات التي‬ ‫انخرطنا فيها على طول رحلتنا كي نخرج‬ ‫بهذا العمل‪ .‬نود أن نتوجه بالشكر لكل‬ ‫من دعم وأثرى منتوجنا وعملنا‪ :‬كاثي‬ ‫كوستين و شيماء البنا وآنجا فان دي بوت‬ ‫وكاثي خطار ورشا صالح وكرم يوسف‬

‫وفريك لوم وطارق نصر وبسمة حمدي‬ ‫ورنا النمر وأحمد شكر ونادية منير وجنين‬ ‫ديجو وإيهاب عبد الحميد وستان ألين‬ ‫ومايكل سوركن وليديا كاليبوليتي وإنجو‬ ‫جيزندانر ووئام التمامي وراجني جورج‬ ‫وسمير الهواري وماريل مورين وفيليب‬ ‫هيريرا وياسر عبد اللطيف وميجيل دي‬ ‫مينا وتوم دايل وفرح سعفان والكس‬ ‫فينسترا ويوسف رزق ومارك جمال‬ ‫وإليفيرا جيرالدز وميا جانكفتيز وسهيل‬ ‫مالك وحصة الحميضي وسارة النفيسي‬ ‫وشريفة حامد وهاني راشد وجاك شنكر‬ ‫وجوبن بخراد وبث سترايكر وهدير أحمد‬ ‫علي ومحمد صقر وسامية الخضري‬ ‫وعماد ريان وصايم محمود وحاتم البحيري‬ ‫وهافير رايز وموريس سانشز وروني كلوز‬ ‫وماجي هايد وعايدة الكاشف ومحمد‬ ‫الشاهد وعمرو الكفراوي وليوبولد‬ ‫لمبرت وآدم طالب وعليا مرتضى ومورتز‬ ‫ميهاتش وجبريال بونتي وياسمين العياط‬ ‫ولينا آيالة وأدريانا نافارو ورزيكي هاوس‬ ‫وكريشنا بافسار ومروة كمال الدين وتانيا‬ ‫بويج ومحمود مرسي و إدوين جاردنر‬ ‫وكرستيان فرونو وريم سعوما ويوست‬ ‫يانمات‪.‬‬ ‫التوزيع الدولي‪:‬‬ ‫‪( Anagram books‬المملكة المتحدة و‬ ‫إيرلندا و فرنسا)‬ ‫‪contact@anagrambooks.com‬‬ ‫‪www.anagrambooks.com‬‬ ‫‪Vice Versa Distribution GmbH‬‬ ‫(الدنمارك و سويسرا و الدول‬ ‫االسكندنافية)‬ ‫‪info@vice-versa-distribution.com‬‬ ‫‪www.vice-versa-distribution.com‬‬ ‫‪( Multiplos‬اسبانيا والبرتغال)‬ ‫‪info@multiplosbooks.org‬‬ ‫‪www.multiplosbooks.org‬‬ ‫‪( Ram Publications‬الواليات المتحدة‬ ‫األمريكية)‬ ‫‪orders@rampub.com‬‬ ‫‪www.rampub.com‬‬ ‫‪( Perimeter Distribution‬أستراليا‬ ‫ونيوزيلندا)‬ ‫‪hello@perimeterdistribution.com‬‬ ‫‪www.perimeterdistribution.com‬‬ ‫الكتب خان (أفريقيا والشرق األوسط)‬ ‫‪info@kotobkhan.com‬‬ ‫‪www.kotobkhan.com‬‬ ‫‪( Onomatopee‬للمناطق األخرى)‬ ‫‪shop@onomatopee.net‬‬ ‫‪www.onomatopee.net‬‬


‫صالون‬ ‫الرصيف‬

‫القاهرة‬ ‫منار مرسي و ديفيد بويج‬

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