Man, last Tuesday was a long time ago. I've been on the computer, but blogging, at least the writing part, has been beyond me.
I, who never thought about Egypt, except when reading Agatha Christie or visiting a museum, have been enthralled with the brave, the foolhardy, the beaten, the hopeful, the faithful, the long-suffering, the bloody, the finally triumphant people of Egypt.
Normally we get our news from the radio, but I couldn't take my eyes away from the TV, except to check out the internet. I was incredibly moved by a photo of thousands and thousands of bent backs at the Square, showing people praying together, and incredibly shocked, frightened and outraged to see men descending on the Square on horses and camels, brandishing poles and whips.
I have been struggling with a sense of guilt for not really understanding the situation, and for not realizing the conditions that led to the protesting. I know it's not unique to me, but then neither was the rush of pride and satisfaction when Mubarak stepped down, or the concern about what happens next.
Every once in a while, you get a chance to clearly see our place of privilege. I hope I can figure out ways to better deserve it.
And ironically, "I" appears at least 10 times in this post. I hate failing so swiftly.