Dip Wife Tales: The Delicate Art of Hair Removal

Okay, I’ve debated whether or not to share this humiliation, but my girlfriends and I determined a while ago that it’s much better to release and disclose one’s personal humiliations and embarrassments otherwise they fester and grow into paranoia. So at the risk of exposing readers to “TMI” (too much information), I shall share.

So, I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned before the overwhelming concern/fascination with hair removal here. It is very common for Egyptian women to remove almost all of their body hair, including arm hair, any facial hair (except eyebrows, but we’ll get to that torture, I mean tale, later), leg hair, and any little hints of hairs on hands and feet. It’s so common that during my Egyptian desserts class, our cooking teacher showed us how to make Halawa out of sugar, water and lemon juice, which most Egyptian women use at home to remove their hair. They just keep a big ball of this sticky sugar mixture in the fridge and re-use it over and over. It’s similar to the Australian product, Nad’s, that is available back home.

Anyway, the few times I’ve gotten manicures or pedicures here, I’ve been asked if I’d like the miniscule blonde hairs removed from my hands. I tell them don’t bother. But I have gotten hints that the hairy-Americans bother some Egyptian women. I don’t take offense, and I don’t feel overly concerned either. I figure my blonde arm hair is probably the least of offenses I commit on a daily basis.

Back home, I was in a semi-regular routine of getting my eyebrows waxed. Even though I’d been doing it for ten years, I always found it painful and horrid. Maybe the rest of the world “gets used to it” or “doesn’t feel a thing” but I am not one of them. And each time I handed over cash to have someone pour hot wax on my face and tear hair out by the roots, I would always wonder at the lunacy of the whole thing. I guess it beats foot-binding, though.

Well, I finally submitted to the Egyptian way and went with two friends a few weeks ago to get “threaded.” Threading is very popular here and was catching on back home when I left. I had a few friends back home who swore by it, but I now know they are liars and fiends (but I love them anyway).

From what I can gleam, threading is hair removal done with a simple spool of thread (Magic thread? Regular thread? Extra-painful-tortuous thread? I don’t know). The threader plays out a long piece from the spool, holds one end in her teeth and the other in her hands and using the tension of the thread wound very tightly, gently tears at the hairs on your face, ripping and wrenching and grabbing and plucking with great force until you feel that the top thirteen dermal layers have been successfully removed leaving a gently throbbing bloody mass – but totally hair-free.

Oh, can you tell it didn’t fare well with me? I knew it would be painful, because I’m a delicate, sensitive, sweet-young-thing, so I was bracing myself for the typical hot-wax-tearing feeling that I would put up with back home. However, I was not prepared for a constant, never-ending, searing pain that this she-devil with an innocent face in a hot-pink tunic was inflicting on me. I found myself scrunching ever lower in my chair to just get away from her. I kept patting my face, trying to diminish the pain (and check for hemorrhaging), and apologizing to her as she had to take breaks due to my anguish. I think it’s the first time I’ve seen a manicurist actually look annoyed at her client (no language lessons needed for that moment). Once I could sense that she had torn at both sides of my face evenly, I begged her to stop. I actually slumped in my chair in relief. Forget electrocution, I say go with threading.

So, my plans are to start a revolution and convince the world that fuzzy whorlly eyebrows are sexy as hell. Anyone with me?

Weekend Explorations: Sunrises & Pyramids

While we were still in Maadi, Ron made the wild suggestion that we try to catch the sunrise by the pyramids one morning. Never one to say no to a wacky adventure (see current life as example) we planned ahead with packs of water and nuts ready to go, and a pile of maps. One issue with maps here is that there’s not one that ever suffices. There is also not one that covers all of Cairo. So we use a combination-method and try to overlap and keep our fingers crossed. But there are entire areas of Cairo that are just not on any map. That, plus the issue of lack-of-street-signs (though Zamalek is well-signed, I’m delighted to announce), almost guarantees our driving excursions turn into getting-lost excursions.

With low expectations of getting there, but high expectations of seeing something interesting, we stumbled out of bed at 4:30am and struggled to the car. We knew the general direction we wanted to go, so we pointed the car into the west and drove on.

The morning was a typical Cairo morning, very hazy (which means chunky visible pollution), with low general visibility. Basically it was un-pretty. But we took the highway out, passing by Cairo highrises with the colors and textures of flapping laundry breaking the brick-and-mortar monotony; witnessing the unfinished buildings, with wooden scaffolding intermixed with satellite dishes (in climates like this, roofs apparently are of less importance than Cable TV).

We weren’t sure what road to take off of this one to reach the pyramids, but when we literally came to the end of the road at this weird structure, with a metal pyramid-montage sign, and only a few resident dogs meandering about, we figured we’d missed something. We turned around, under the very watchful eye of the local canines, and drove back the way we came.

On the chance that we might randomly pick the right road, we took the next exit available. It didn’t lead us to the pyramids, but we did wander along a small canal, passing small farms, palm trees, a few watermelon carts already out with their wares, some small villages, rug-making factories, mosaic stone displays, more stray dogs (some guarding the unfinished floors of structures – I fought the urge to get out and make sure he had food and water and a way down, as I did not have dog food, bowls or a ladder on me – damn my lack of Boy Scout training).

We did get to catch the sunrise over the green fields. It was still very hazy though (I think this was actually one of the worst mornings we’ve had). We drove around a little more, and then decided we’d had enough getting-lost for one morning and were ready to head home. As we crossed the bridge back over the Nile the sun’s rays still hadn’t been able to permeate the pollution haze. Despite our lack of success in seeing the pyramids this morning, we felt we had accomplished something. Little by little, we may just explore every inch of the non-tourist areas Cairo has to offer.

Shopping Tales: The Khan

I’ve made a few excursions to the Kahn since we’ve been here, following Ron’s initial introduction. Our friend Lisa has introduced us to a guy who sells hand-blown glass works, gallibayas and t-shirts. The photo of his glass shop didn’t come out too well, but it’s really amazing stuff and he’ll do custom orders too (everyone here, who actually makes the item and isn’t just selling it, will take custom orders – it’s a great feature!).

We’ve also visited Gouzlans, who is known for gold jewelry, and has a few shops throughout Cairo, including one on Road 9 in Maadi. They have beautiful necklaces, bracelets and earrings and really good prices on gold, and make cartouche pendants (a name in hieroglyphics) in a variety of sizes and styles.

Crazy Brothers, that Ron took me to on our first visit is located in a second-floor collection of iron makers, brass sellers, and everything in between. I ended up buying a brass trash can from them last time and they made a big deal about giving me the “embassy price,” which I’m sure meant a 40% mark-up. Oh well, I liked it. Up near Crazy Brothers, we got to see men hand-making the wood and pearl inlay coasters and boxes that are for sale all over the place. I love the all wood inlay boxes and treated myself to one from a store in Maadi that sits on my desk. I also have images of a table or a mirror in our future.

On one of my last Khan excursions, we got out of the cab intending to walk under the busy street through the pedestrian tunnel but I wandered over to a stall first as I thought he was selling small rugs (we need one for the foyer and kitchen). He wasn’t, but suggested we go down to the oldest spice market in Cairo where they also sell linens, rugs, etc. At the sound of this spice market possibility, I perked up and we headed down the road. The merchant, of course, started to lead us there. We kept saying that we didn’t need a guide and he kept insisting that he didn’t need baksheesh. He told us he had recently finished his degree in English (his English was really good, actually) and was entering the army soon. He led us through this great stone archway into a labyrinth of booths and stalls with comforters and blankets draped everywhere, stacks of t-shirts and bras for sale, linens, and spices! He was definitely leading us to a specific stall (it’s all about who you know here) as we followed him through the twisting alleys. We’d passed a few spice stalls and I finally just stopped and told him that we were going to just wander on our own and shop. He was a bit dismayed, but we were insistent – you have to be.

I finally had my spice shop experience and since it had taken me months to find this I figured I had to buy something. They’re always pushing saffron here, but I have to figure out what to do with it (new to this cooking thing), so for now I just bought cumin and coriander. I wedged myself in the small store with the local Egyptian women and pretended I knew what I was doing. I managed to walk out with two little bags of spice – mighty pleased with myself, too. And I have to say, those spices are potent! I have them double-bagged at home and had to move them to another cabinet as they were tainting the corn flakes.

Following the successful spice purchase, we continued on through the alley of comforters. Back here the alley was narrower and the blankets and thick comforters hung down all around us. It was kind of like a very narrow hedge maze made out of satin, embroidery, brightly colored, flannel, faux fur walls. At one point, Kristen suggested we stop going forward as we had been walking a while and just take the next available left, so we did and managed to make it back out the main area. On our way out of the market, we passed by a fez-maker’s shop – apparently he is the last remaining fez maker in all of Egypt. Well, whether it’s true or not, it’s interesting. Oh, and there were some specialty carts along the way too, selling tea, or bread, or maybe just prickly pears, but the one that boggles my mind is the loofah cart. It just seems an odd item to specialize in and rely one’s livelihood on. And yet I see them all over the city. Personally, I’d opt for bread or tea, something people need to buy more than once every six months, a year, or even a lifetime (I mean, how many loofahs can one person buy?).

We crossed the road over to the Kahn-proper and meandered through. In addition to tourist trappings, there are beautiful jewelry shops, gallibayas galore, lamp shops, brass-ware, alabaster, and just piles of antique/old/just-dirty things. One store was chock full of seemingly every estate sale left-over, including some of the largest chandeliers I’ve ever seen. We asked the man if they worked, he said yes, and yet made no movement to show us their brilliance. He probably guessed we weren’t there to buy, just oogle.

Photos

So we are (or rather, I am) at the stage of tweaking the organization of our place. It took me quite a while to figure out where to place things in the kitchen, dragging in metal shelves, then dragging them out again. I think I’ve finally figured it out, but I need to tweak the food cabinets and they’re a bit hodge-podge. We have a separate storage area too, that I’ve put items in I don’t foresee us needing for a long time (or odd things that we’ll never use – like two mop-heads I bought for the mop that we sent to storage, or one metal foot to Ron’s old bed that we sent to storage – I’m assuming the other three feet are with the bedframe, but we’ll see). I did carefully wrap everything that went to storage in either tarps or large trash bags and then sealed and labeled with duct tape. I’d been forewarned that the dust/dirt will be overwhelming for non-covered items. Figuring out the uses for all our closets (we have 8, including a pantry) has been a continual musical-chairs-like event, too. But again, I think I’m getting there. Thank goodness I have a well-honed organizational gene (and for those inevitable items which just can’t seem to find a home, there are lots of cabinets and drawers, too).

You’ll see that we have a large living/dining area, that I have also placed a small desk/office area for me in, as well as an oddly placed dresser under the window (disguised as a dresser, but really a cat bench – we will eventually find a less-obtrusive cat-bench but it does the job for now). The majority of furniture (other than couches, curved bookcases, Ron’s desk and our bed) is provided by the embassy.

Our guest room is cleared of stuff (finally – as the primary dumping ground it was the last tackled). It is ready for visitors, and we can get a queen bed in as well, so don’t worry about bringing sleeping bags.

Ron’s office is fairly tidy, though I can’t vouch for the tidiness-duration.

Our bedroom needs a little more art work, but otherwise is very comfortable (thanks in large part to us transferring out of the Arctic Zone).

Settling, Unpacking, and Creating a Home

So, essentially I think we’re settled in Zamalek. We’ve gotten the major things done, painting, electricity issues, furniture swap outs, and glee of glees, we finally have our own DSL line! It took two weeks of Ron sending emails and waiting to hear that the line for our house was finally “released” and we could go open our account.

Mini adventure in that task. After work one day, with the “released notification” in hand, Ron and I walked across Zamalek (it’s narrow), across the bridge over to Mohandiseen where we kept walking, and walking, and finally saw the “TE Data” building. We crossed a very busy street, with Ron kindly holding my hand and placing himself in the position of being the impact-person. As I was racing in front of one car, then pausing as another one whoosed in front of me, then racing off again, I realized that my body has started to instinctually react to crossing Cairo streets. When stepping off a buns-of-steel curb, immediately my toes curl under in a protective stance and I balance on the balls of my feet. I just cannot get past the fear that my toes are going to be run over at any minute. I wonder what the toe-casualty rate is here in Cairo?

Considering what we had heard from others who had attempted to get DSL and cable set up, we were both emotionally prepared for this not to work. We thought we were ready for any problem, hassle, hurdle or whatever they could throw at us. However, we were not prepared for what actually happened. We got an account set up, paid for, our router thingy activated and were told that by the time we got back home, it would be operational. And they were right!! Ron noted that it was the largest collection of Egyptian nerds he’d seen, and I noted that other than one or two women who came in, paid a bill and left, I was the only female there. I actually think it was far easier than dealing with Verizon back home. We did the appropriate happy dance for an operational DSL line – apparently it’s similar to an impromptu haven’t-practiced-in-ten-months foxtrot. Now the next stage is setting up our Vonage phone so we can call and be called from our old 301 (Maryland) number. One hindrance to this is that apparently we didn’t bring any phones with us. Smart.

I know I’ve blamed our lack of clear thinking throughout the pack-out process for many things, and sadly, our forgetting to bring a phone is not the only evidence of this. Now, I have to say, that I’m not completely convinced that all of the issues were caused by us. I do think that some things that were labeled “Cairo” went to “Storage” instead. Or they’re sitting in a box on the side of 495 in Virginia. Either way, we’re missing an odd assortment of items, such as: trash cans, a pasta strainer (now, why would I have selected that for storage?), blankets, most serving dishes, and some basic chach-ka (like Ron’s beautiful Moroccan tea set). So we’ve been making some varied purchases from Amazon and I’ve been making a list of things to acquire when I head back to the states, probably in October. In addition, I’ve been exploring Zamalek looking for replacements, and often ending up heading to Maadi where I know the stores better.

In contrast, Ron has made fun of some of the things I did pack and that managed to get here, including several hundred cotton balls, Q-tips, Tums, and vats of shampoo and conditioner (and he still brings up the cupcake wrappers). However, we must also point out that we have two brick-like structures made up of dozens of Irish Spring bars, which are not for me. So to each his own. Basically I just didn’t know what we would be able to get here and how easily (and delightfully) accessible Amazon would be – thanks solely to our access to the APO.

Moving into a new place always creates a need for, or an excess of, certain items. We went from a one-bathroom place to three bathrooms, so inevitably we needed bathmats. I could never have guessed it would be so difficult to find bathmats in Cairo. They do have them, but they’re either towel-like, which just won’t stand up to Ron’s use and typically end up balled up in the corner, or they’re sets of matching bath mat, toilet cover and toilet wrap-around, and they’re made in the USA and cost over $60 (not to mention they’re ugly)! So, after a week of looking everywhere, we relented and bought some through JCPenney.com. We got our bathmats the other day and I was far more excited about receiving them than anything “fun,” but then again, I have been climbing out of the shower with great care, not wanting to slip, fall and have to exclaim in Arabic, “I’ve fallen and can’t get up.” The other item we are unable to find is a kitchen trash can. Maybe my desire for a tall, metal, step-can, is just too extravagant, but the few that we have found are outrageously expensive or plastic. I think we’re going to have to rely on the wonders of Amazon for that one, too.

Oh, and in that same vein of figuring out a new home, after sleeping in the Arctic Zone for the first two weeks as we awaited delivery of our vent-deflectors (thank you, Amazon merchant), upon receipt Ron was told by someone in the office that the vents could be adjusted by hand. So that night, with the deflectors in their newly arrived box, we dragged the ladder from room to room and manually adjusted all the vents. Eventually we’ll figure it all out. And in the meantime, we’ll rely on the kindness of Amazon merchants’ return policies.