An amazing article we found while surfing the net on what is really going through a simple girl’s mind in Cairo right now….The article is extracted from Masshallah News and is written by Amani Massoud

This first question that comes to mind when you’re about to take part in a revolution is: what does one wear to a revolution?

That’s of course in addition to some other equally important questions…will I be seen? Will I be in that one picture that best captures the spirit of the revolution and will that picture spread like fire across print and electronic media? What happens if I want to pee? Will I meet someone? Wouldn’t it be awesome if I got arrested? (because try as you might to deny it, there is no better story to repeatedly tell for years than one which starts with “when I got arrested…”?

Then of course there’s the set of lesser important questions: why am I really here? Are there others that feel the same way? Things aren’t really that bad, are they? When did things get so bad? Why can’t those people up there in their balconies see that they must come down and join us? Do people really deserve their rulers? And if they do, don’t they also deserve a chance to bring them down?

With these questions I set out on my revolution on Tuesday, 25 January 2011. Skeptical, cynical and ready to throw my best “seriously, what were you thinking?” look at all those pseudo activists and activist wannabe’s out there who actually thought their facebook invitation would gather enough masses to even get the government to flinch. I left home carrying nothing but my camera and my smugness, like the human rights elitist that I am, only to prove those naive fools wrong, repeatedly telling myself that I was NOT out to join the protests, only to take some mental notes of the “cute attempt”. Plus, I figured if I were to be a cynic, then I should at least make sure I was there before posting my most sarcastic facebook status line to date and to at least give some legitimacy to all my revolution-centered jokes. And more importantly, I did not want to criticize the revolution for the wrong reasons, especially not after reading some guy’s “أنا قاعد في بيتنا يوم 25 يناير..وأنت؟” (I’m staying home on January 25th, what about you?) note on how having a facebook account, or owning a blackberry, and wanting to push for social change are mutually exclusive(?!)  But for more informed reasons, the only rev·o·lu·tion I was expecting to see that day was (c  (1) : a progressive motion of a body around an axis so that any line of the body parallel to the axis returns to its initial position while remaining parallel to the axis in transit and usually at a constant distance from it), or any other randomly picked dictionary definition of the word.

But that’s not only why I left home that day. There was of course that part of me that wanted to be proven wrong. Not believing that something could happen is one thing, and wanting it to happen is a totally different thing. What I do for a living gives me some immunity to any false accusations that I choose sitting “جنب الحيطة” (and not do anything) over taking action. I believe in roles and, judging from a number of certain recent events, have little faith in some forms of action. Accordingly, I left home that day with very little expectations, determined not to take part in what I had already decided was a failure.

These were my thoughts and intentions. Here is what actually happened:

Two layers, of not so loosely fitting pants, layers of light sweaters…nothing too low, and comfortable boots. That’s what I wore for the revolution. Nothing that gives way to sexual harassment or a chance to have your clothes pulled off…that’s if of course you were taking part in the protests, which I wasn’t, but nonetheless I stuck to the customary attire. By the end of the day, and following a few trips back to my place (conveniently located at the center of the revolution), and after it became apparent we were staying long into the night, I was so heavily covered that the only way anyone could undress me was if they cut through the layers with a saw!

I started walking with a friend towards El-Tahrir, shortly before the revolution was scheduled to spontaneously start, taking in our surroundings and watching the security forces assemble all across the square and wust el-balad. We strolled next to three of the higher ranking officials and just for the fun of it I stopped and asked, in my sweetest voice “هو حضرتك فيه ايه الي بيحصل؟” (Sir, what’s happening here?) to which he replied “أصل انهارده عيد الشرطة واحنا مترصصين كده عشان الناس تعدي تدينا ورد” (It’s the Police Day today, we’re standing here next to each other because people are giving us roses) at which I smiled and said “كل سنة وانتو طيبين” (Happy holidays then) and walked away. Many years from now, if they were to make a movie about that day, fictional or otherwise, that should be the opening scene.

A couple of blocks later we started hearing the protesters…we joined them on the 26thof July street…

The article is extracted from Masshallah News and is written by Amani Massoud—-To continue reading visit Masshallah News