WASHINGTON DC, United States – How safe was it to be in Cairo during the Egypt Revolution that removed 30-year dictator Hosni Mubarak? A better phrase would be: how dangerous was it? Can you actually walk around and not be attacked? How friendly (or how violent) were some of the people in the streets? Did the protesters contemplate that their efforts would result in a regime change? The following is the second part of the author’s interview with Mr. Owen Tiam, an OFW and Beijing-based photographer who happened to be in Cairo during the revolution.

Day-by-day Account

Q:  How long were you in Cairo again?

OT:  We arrived on the 29th of January and evacuated by the 2nd of February. So a total of five days. What we had planned was a 9-days/8-nights Cairo-Nile River adventure but we ended up with a 5-day on-the-ground experience of what a burgeoning revolution was like.
 

Protesters chanting to their heart's content.

Q:  Was the Tahrir Square perimeter defended by the Army or the protesters?

OT:  I think the whole block leading to Tahrir Square was systematically locked-out (or locked-in) by the Army by positioning tanks in the street entrances, cordoning off streets with cement barriers, and lining the main access road with warm bodies complete with full battle gear, AK-47’s with bayonets.

Q:  But all of these didn’t faze the people protesting?

OT:  To a certain extent it did. Understandably, some feared for their safety. Yet many more people were emboldened by the curfew, the police brutality just a few days prior and the violence provoked by pro-Mubarak forces to stand their ground in Tahrir Square. Others outside the square flooded in gradually.

Q:  Okay, so you and your family arrived on the 29th of January, 2011, and were hassled by the absence of tour agency personnel who should have been there for coordination purposes. But you were able to reach your hotel safely and saw some burning buildings en route from the airport to the hotel. I understand you also ate heartily?

OT:  Egyptian food is great. Really, really great. It’s a lot different eating authentic Middle Eastern food than just eating from some Arab restaurant in Asia.

Q:  Alright, great Egyptian food aside, narrate to us please what you saw and experienced.

January 30, 2011 (Sunday)

OT:  So the day after our arrival, January 30, 2011, at around 2 pm, was my first foray into the demonstrations. I went alone and left my wife and young son at the hotel for obvious reasons. I eased my way to the 26th of July Street going to the 2nd of May Bridge. From there, I instinctively started taking photos. There were people alighting from vans, a multitude of men walking with streamers and flags, and other passersby. They were all on their way to Tahrir Square. While taking shots, a young man approached me and asked me if I wanted to ride his shoulder.

Q:  Ride his shoulder? To see the view better?

OT:  Possibly. Maybe he thought that a Chinese-looking tourist such as myself would want to take pictures from a better, higher angle. But I was uncertain so I declined his generous offer. Another man from the same group asked me where I was from. I proudly said, “I am Filipino.” I added: “Today is historic”. He said: “Yes, we are fighting for freedom.”

Q:  Just like our EDSA I Peaceful or Bloodless Revolution in ’86.
 

Pro-Mubarak protesters in front of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. On the right is the access to Tahrir Square where the Anti-Mubaraks hold fort.

Q:  Was the Tahrir Square perimeter defended by the Army or the protesters?

OT:  Exactly, that’s why I responded to him: “We had the same in our country many years ago. Through the people’s concerted efforts, we were able to oust a dictator!” He then said: “Then you know how we feel. Come join us!”

Q:  Did you?

OT:  I indeed know how he feels. The elation, the excitement, the fighting-for-a-cause feeling. But I did not join that time. I did not proceed to Tahrir Square because it was near curfew when I decided to explore the vicinity. Our hotel is around 1.6 kms away from Tahrir Square. I didn’t want to take the risk of being caught at a checkpoint. My wife and son are still back in the hotel waiting for me, so I had to be careful. Most importantly, I am still just a tourist in Cairo.

Q:  You went home then?

OT:  Yes. Well, I wanted to go to Tahrir Square during the evening because I knew there is more energy and emotion. We could hear the non-stop chanting and cheers from our hotel balcony. And I believe I can empathize better with the people. However, there was a curfew instituted from 4 pm to 8 am the following day, and my hotel was a bit of a walk. If I did choose to go out during curfew time, I would have to sleep at Tahrir Square to be safe.

Q:  Wasn’t the police there to ensure people’s safety?

OT:  On the contrary, the police was nowhere to be found after their violent confrontation two days before. The Army was the one who ensured peace but were not doing police work. Their presence (with guns, machine guns and tanks) was a deterrent to violence while I was there.

Q:  So the police was ominously absent. Didn’t the people fear that the Army would fire on them?

OT:  I also asked that myself. But it seemed that the people were more at ease with the Army than the local police. If the people entered Tahrir Square before 4 pm, they had to sleep there somewhere until 8 am the following day.

January 31, 2011 (Monday)

Q:  What happened the next day?

OT:  After lunch, around 1 pm, I started my adventure to Tahrir Square. With my Condo Central Press ID, photocopy of my passport and visa, important phone numbers, money, North Face Jacket, New Balance running shoes, cotton bandana (for tear gas) and my trusty Nikons D700, 14-24mm and 70-300mm, extra battery and reliable CF Cards, I was ready to go.

Q:  You were battle-ready in terms of Nikon cameras, memory cards and batteries!

OT:  I was certain I would be able to record history through my lenses so I brought them all. The running shoes and bandana were in preparation for possible running from the pro-Mubarak forces and in the event the police try to tear gas the protesters. I’ve learned a long time ago as a U.P. activist to bring all of those gears just in case of any eventuality.

Q:  Ah, those memorable years of U.P.-led protests against military bases and backward government policies. Memorable years, definitely. What did you witness?

OT: It was a beautiful blue-sky day. Entering El Gezira Street, I walked up the pedestrian stairs to the 2nd of May Bridge. From the bridge, there was a good view of the 6th of October Bridge. The backdrop was the burnt NDP Headquarters.

I was not alone in the walk to Tahrir Square. Two ladies clad themselves with a full-size Egyptian Flag. I walked in pace with them. Turning right on Corniche El-Nil Street, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs welcomed us with a line of Army tanks and a flank of soldiers armed to the teeth. A few hundred meters and a squad of soldiers manned a concrete barrier where only one person can pass. This was to regulate the flow of people and give ample time for visual check on suspicious characters. On my right was the historic Nile River.

Q:  Were the soldiers friendly?

OT:  Not really. With a smile, I offered the soldiers to take their photos but they politely declined with “No, no, no.” I obeyed and walked along. There was another barrier like the previous one. And the next, also manned by a squad of soldiers was made narrower. A person should walk sideways to enter the concrete barrier. Again, I offered to take the solders’ photos and once again, they declined.

The walk was less than a kilometer but along the way, I lost count of the Army tanks, Armored Personnel Carriers, light tanks with heavy machine guns, an Army crane (to lift the concrete barriers) and Army trucks. If I was battle-ready with my Nikons, the Army was battle-ready, period.

Q:  But I suppose most of the people on-the-ground would be friendly?

OT:  Yes, most of them were. There was a group who was singing and accompanied by a lute (a guitar variation). I did not know if they were Pro’s or Anti’s. But they were peaceful. I took some snaps and proceeded along.

On my left is a rundown building but I saw studio lights in the high floors. Foreign journalists were reporting from there. Rameses Hilton Hotel imposed its presence in the area. It had a great view of everything important there: The NDP Headquarters to its right, the Egyptian Museum to its middle, and Tahrir Square to its left.
 

Hand-made posters, slogans and signs proliferated Tahrir Square. They wanted everyone to know their sentiments.

Q:  Was the Tahrir Square perimeter defended by the Army or the protesters?

Proceeding to NDP Headquarters, there were three Egyptian teenagers who approached me with their wide smiles. I thought they wanted their photos taken but it was the other way around. They wanted a photo with me! I guess they have only seen a few good-looking Asians around.

Q:  Hahaha, okay, if you say so, Owen. You’ve always been very funny. Any other interaction?

OT:  I approached the NDP Headquarters. There were people taking photos of the building. Outside were two burned trucks. Inside were several burned cars. The gates were closed and guarded by soldiers. A man in coat and tie asked me what I thought of the situation. I said, “This is history.” He nodded in agreement and said, “Mark my words. This is another French Revolution.” I then replied, “It’s the will of the people.” I smiled, further nodded in agreement and walked my way towards Tahrir Square to my right.

There is a statue of a soldier going to Tahrir Square. I don’t know who it was but he seemed important. I started taking snaps and a soldier approached me to verbally stop me with his, “No, no, no.” I snapped two pictures. Turning right was the entrance to Tahrir Square. This area was now under the control of civilians. The main street was lined with wooden poles to indicate no passing through. Beyond it were two Army tanks and two squads, I think. The flow of the people was forced into the sidewalk.

Two Civilian Volunteers, on top of a make-shift platform and clothed with hand-written signs, which I guess meant “show your ID,” shouted the same to the on-coming mass. Everyone was compliant. They took out their National ID’s and showed it to the volunteers. There were several of them. And in that short stretch of sidewalk, maybe 30 meters or so, there were around 5 “Check-Your-ID-Points.”

Q:  So you had to show your ID?

OT:  I was spared from showing my ID. My facial features was a dead give-away I was not from there. And the civilian manning the “Check-Your-ID-Points” had two things to say to me: “Welcome!” and “Thank You!” I felt solidarity and being one with the people.

There were other foreign journalists that I saw. All Caucasians. But they’re professional journalists, not like me who works as a photographer but who only stumbled into the Egypt Revolution.  It is safe to say that I was the only Asian at that time. I moved around and freely took photos. People were calling my attention. They wanted to have their photos taken with their home-made signs and placards. I could not understand what were written on them but I felt their message came from deep down their hearts. I felt empathy.

Q:  How many people were there?

OT:  I’m not sure. I researched online and found out that Tahrir Square and surrounding areas can accommodate about 200,000 people. But when I was there taking photos, it seemed to me there were about 10,000. I don’t know; maybe the number swells at night. There were pocket mini-rallies. Singing, chanting and speeches were conducted by different groups. And there were VIPs who were carried on people’s shoulders. The atmosphere was lively and energetic.

Q:  Maybe that’s why the man offered to carry you on his shoulders? Perhaps he thought you’re a VIP!

OT:  A “VIP” who daydreamed of seeing pyramids but woke up in the middle of a revolution! Kidding aside, the people who were carried on shoulders appeared to be from important groups.

Q:  But there would have been garbage and waste everywhere, I suppose?

OT:  I took a photo of a group of youngsters “mopping” the water from the streets. Garbage was methodically dumped onto a burned pick-up truck. There was order amidst the chaos. I felt People Power at work. All over Tahrir Square, there was an air of jubilation. I have seen children as young as one-year-olds brought by their parents. I took their photos, too. It was a family affair. It was a peaceful and orderly affair. When the call to afternoon prayers began, I made my way back to the hotel. My way back was uneventful except that I noted the many burned and overturned police pick-up trucks. People were solemnly kneeling and bowing in prayer.

February 1, 2011 (Tuesday, 7 am)

Q:  What happened the following day?

OT:  Lara, Xavier and I were all jet-lagged and did not bother to have our body clock adjust to Cairo time. What for when there’s a 4 pm to 8 am curfew. We were wide awake by 4 am. A bit of a deviant, I woke up to defy my host country’s imposition of the curfew. Not out of disrespect, but I wanted to witness the first activities in Tahrir Square in the wee hours. After a hearty breakfast, I set foot out of the hotel by 7 am.
 

Amin's Entourage. From Left: Young Man with Hoarse Voice holding hands with Old Man and 12 yo Amin. It is in the home of the Old Man where Muslims and Christians eat together.

Q:  Was the Tahrir Square perimeter defended by the Army or the protesters?

I walked the same route towards Corniche El-Nil Street. This time, I had to flash my Condo Central Press ID in all “Check-Your-ID-Points” both of the soldiers and Civilian Volunteers stations. It was a pain to flash my Press ID and to be frisked 5 times–three times by the soldiers and twice by the Civilian Volunteers. But this was an effective way of ensuring safety.

When I reached Tahrir Square, there was still a sleepy calm fogging the air. Tents were still pitched. Life was slowly awakening. It was a cold, winter night (thus my heavy jacket) and there were hundreds of people who stayed the night over. I won’t be surprised if there were people who have not gone home for several days.

Q:  So you arrived just before most people woke up?

OT:  Yes, that was the plan. I wanted to witness Tahrir Square very early in the morning. Less than five minutes of entering the square, two middle-aged men approached me. My immediate thought was that they wanted their photos taken. I willingly obliged and aimed my camera at them. They smiled at me and shook their heads. I was mistaken. Instead, they gave me a ration of their bread from their breakfast. I graciously refused, but they insisted that I should have something to eat. I took their offering and savored the piece of manna. The bread was dry, crumbly and tasteless yet it was the most filling part of my day. I unmistakably relearned that it is not “what” is given but “why” it is given. It is not how much one can give but it is giving of all that one has. I was humbled. I thought they wanted photos taken but they offered me manna.

Q:  That was a great gesture, by any account.

OT:  Indeed, it was. Food was in dismal supply and they still shared the little they had. I was humbled. I circled Tahrir Square and found the square was circular. Soldiers and their tanks cut off the arteries leading to the square still. Almost full-circle from where I was given the bread, a young boy, perhaps 12 years old, engaged me in conversation.

“Me, Amin. You?” “Amin?” I repeated. He nodded. “Owen”, I replied. He shook my hand and I smiled. Amin had pudgy cheeks, wiry hair, a cleft chin and writings on his face. Then a teenager came to us. He was welcoming me with a very hoarse voice. It was apparent that he shouted his heart out the night before. Their youthful exhilaration energized me. Or was it the bread from the strangers? We were shaking hands.

Q:  He really said: “Me, Amin. You?”

OT:  He did. Very friendly boy. Then an old gentleman joined us and conversed with me in his broken English. “Mubarak bad. Mubarak out!” I nodded. “Today, Muslims and Christians are together. In my house, Muslims and Christians eat together. No problem.” I nodded. I then said, “Today is the Million Man March. You have been fighting for seven days already.”

With a firm pledge, together with his band of youth beside him, he said to me, “Seven days, seven months, seven years, it doesn’t matter. We stay here until Mubarak out.” It sent chills to my spine. I admire their courage and bravery. I envy their courage and bravery–to stand against Mubarak even though there is a faint light (at that time) at the end of the tunnel.

“In šāʾ Allāh,” I said. “In šāʾ Allāh,” he said and I took their photo.

Q:  That’s very courageous of them. I tuned in to CNN and was fascinated with the Egyptian people’s conviction that the dictator needs to step aside. What other things did you see?

OT:  Actually, after those conversations, there was “no substantial activity” at the moment so I decided to walk back to the hotel. On my way back, I stopped in front of the Rameses Hilton Hotel to take a picture of the balcony where a journalist was giving the news live. A young soldier in his early 20's accosted me, together with two companions, not to take photos.
 

Revolutionary. Everyone in Tahrir Square was ready to sacrifice their life.

Q:  Was the Tahrir Square perimeter defended by the Army or the protesters?

I asked him the "Why" question. He stammered, "because..." “Passport please,” he said. I took out my papers. It was the very first time my passport was checked. Rudimentarily, he checked it. I tried to help answer my “why” question by offering, "How can I tell the story of your country?"

With pleading eyes he said, "Please, no photos." "That is sad”, I said. "I know", he replied. He handed me back my documents and they walked away with their AK-47's and bayonets. I came back to the hotel almost in time for lunch.

February 1, 2011 (Tuesday, 2 pm)

Q:  You came home early. Was that to appease your wife who might already be panicking?

OT:  I went back to the hotel before lunch but I came out again at 2 in the afternoon. We heard loud speakers from our hotel room. Apparently, pro-Mubaraks were converging in front of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. I didn’t mind them since they were a trickle.

At around 2 pm, I took another stroll with my Nikons and ended up at the foot of the 2nd of May Bridge–a convenient spot to take shots of the pro-Mubaraks’ show of force. The problem was that the area where the Pro’s were rallying was along the path the Anti’s used in going to Tahrir Square. It was inevitable and only a matter of time when the two groups met head on.

Q:  Yeah, there were a lot of reports of Pro’s clashing violently with Anti’s.

OT:  That’s accurate. An Egyptian lady then talked to me in their dialect. I gathered she didn’t want me to take photos. But a man beside her said something and she stopped. While taking more pictures, a young Egyptian man turned to me and said, "These are my people. Why is this happening?" He left before I can even think of anything to say.

Q:  Well, I’m sure it was hard to compose a measured response on the fly about something very historic for the Egyptians.

OT:  True, very true. I was at a loss of words at that point. I then went down the 26th of July Street and explored the nearest mosque.

Q:  How about the 4 pm curfew? You left the hotel at 2 pm.

OT:  The nighttime curfew was something I wouldn’t go against. The until-8 am curfew (morning) was something I’d gladly take on. I headed back to the hotel before the 4 pm curfew. While walking back, I met a lady in her fifties. She looked at me and asked if I was a journalist. I said I was a photographer on vacation. She narrated to me her story. She came from Tahrir Square and she was an anti-Mubarak protester. She said she decided to go home because the Pro’s were already provoking fights and engaging in fisticuffs in the square.

Q:  The Pro’s, do you think, were looking for trouble when they started assembling?

OT:  Oh yeah, oh yeah. They started looking for trouble on February 1, the first day of their rally. I listened to the lady’s story but couldn’t offer any words of comfort. I tried to make her at ease with my presence, but it only went a short distance until the bridge forked and we parted ways.

Q:  Maybe your listening ear even for a few minutes was good enough for her?

OT:  I hope so. I listened intently. But it was near the 4 pm curfew so I had to come back to the hotel. I also saw several youths walking up the 2nd of May Bridge to set up their stations. Many civilians took it upon themselves to set up checkpoints to secure neighborhoods, prevent looting and avert would-be criminals.

Q:  A few reports said that some civilians manning checkpoints were local thugs and goons?

OT:  Exactly. I have a fear of finding myself in a situation beyond my control and I have no choice. But the thought did cross my mind, could those people manning the checkpoints be hooligans themselves? If and so, could a foreigner like myself reason out to a teenager wielding a 2x2, a lead pipe or a butcher’s knife?

Q:  That’s quite scary.

OT:  One of the scariest times of my life. I exercised much prudence and responsibility since my wife and son were with me and so I decided not to go outdoors during curfew. Besides, if I get in trouble, my wife will kill me first before anyone would be able to.

February 2, 2011 (Wednesday)

Q:  When did you evacuate?

OT:  We evacuated on Wednesday, February 2, 2011, at 6 in the morning.
(To be continued – Lessons Learnt)
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The author is a lawyer & writer based in Washington, DC, and educated by Georgetown Law (cand.), the University of Pennsylvania, Wharton (Cert.Bus.), Kyushu University, and UP.  carlo.osi@gmail.com or http://look-to-the-east.blogspot.com.