“Best Birthday Ever!”

“This is the best birthday ever!” exclaimed my 36-year-old husband as he opened his present. Yes, I finally found the answer to a birthday gift for the-world’s-most-difficult-man-to-buy-for – it’s a plastic Ericsson alien.

The back story here, because there has to be one, is that when we were in a local Mobinil store Ron noticed this strange plastic alien that was being used in a display. He admired it (if that’s possible) and asked the clerk if he could buy it. Even in Arabic the clerk was confused. And Ron’s attempt to acquire it failed.

I repressed the whole thing, just happy not to have yet another piece of strange plastic junk in the house. But recently someone mentioned it in reference to Ron’s upcoming birthday and I realized that in order to qualify for the “Wife of the Year” award, I needed to get that damn alien. So I went back to the store, employed my feminine wiles (I smiled and looked pleadingly), and did the one thing that I knew would work. I offered a ridiculous amount of money. The clerk was still confused, but with money on the counter, he more than gladly sold me the alien and I walked away with a win.

You can see the delight as Ron opened the box and after exclaiming this was the best birthday ever, he paused and added, “Did you wash it?” Welcome to Cairo. Where all gifts need a good bath. I admitted my failure, so Ron diligently went and gave the alien a good scrubbing.

Happy Birthday Dear!

Egyptian Thoughts

So I had my first meeting with Hala and Gilan in about a month. They’re my language-swappers (English for Arabic and Arabic for English). What with our vacation, then holidays, it’s probably been over a month. I was supposed to meet them yesterday, Monday, but instead I waited in the apartment for 4 ½ hours for the plumbers who had scheduled a 10:30am appointment and finally showed up at 3:00pm. I had complained of a drippy faucet (three actually) and they came to fully replace our kitchen faucet. Fair enough. At least it doesn’t drip anymore, but boy was I a crank yesterday!

So I grabbed a taxi today and headed out to Mohandiseen to their publishing company. I met with Hala first, as Gilan didn’t get there until after an hour. We typically just start talking about anything and everything. This time Hala also had a list of questions she’d gathered from watching television (she loves “Desperate Housewives”), such as, what does “I’ll make it up to you” mean, or how do you pronounce “episode” and “Nike”? (The last one threw her because despite looking like “bike” and “like” it ain’t pronounced that way. Welcome to English – I’m so glad I’m not learning it as an adult.)

Hala is in her forties, owns and runs a successful publishing/printing company, but admitted that she misses the creative side of the business which she never gets to do anymore. She told me she’s recently been taking Film Directing courses through a local art college in Maadi, which keeps her busy until 10:00pm three nights a week, from which she comes home and studies until 5:00am, then conducts the first prayer of the day, then goes to sleep for five hours, and starts her business day around noon. She’s exhausted but is really enjoying the classes and even got a scholarship based on her grades. She’s doing it to be able to offer her clients the additional service of making short films or commercials, as she said she gets a lot of requests for those, as well as feeding her desire for creative work. I’m definitely impressed with her drive.

In past meetings we’ve broached some potentially awkward topics, like when they asked me what I thought of Egypt and all that came to mind at first was trash, trash and trash, and they asked me why I waited so long to get married (i.e., I’m old). But this meeting was different. Hala was very forthcoming with her thoughts on Egypt and the current situation with Israel and Gaza. I tried to keep quiet and just let her talk as I didn’t want to get into deep political discussions. She talked about how angry she is and how she’s not sleeping after watching the news. The Arab news is very graphic in its coverage of Gaza, showing primarily, almost entirely, children injured and dead presenting a highly-charged one-sided view. She talked about feeling helpless but so angry. She said that so many Egyptians are livid over this and it adds to their general depression over the state of Egypt. According to her, people have lost faith in President Mubarak, who’s 81, and there’s complete uncertainly as to who will take over from him if he steps down or dies. He’s apparently grooming his son for it, but she said no one likes him; he lacks charisma and was only 11 when his father took office in 1981, and so has lost contact with “the people.” She said initially Mubarak was loved and respected. “He was one of us,” she said. But the corruption is so rampant, there are no job or business opportunities for young people, and a lot of them have no initiative anyway. She fears an increase in violence and crime, but doesn’t think anything can be done about it. She was really down and unfortunately I couldn’t do much to help her mood. I agree with her assessment of Egypt.

I shared with her my story of seeing the body in the Nile and she was surprised at first. But then when I told her what the captain told us, to just ignore it and keep moving forward, she agreed. “My father told me the same thing,” she said. Then she told me of a time when she was driving and saw a man hitting a woman by the side of the road. He pushed her and she fell in the road into Hala’s lane, just after Hala drove by. Hala said she stopped the car and was going to help the woman, but then thought about it and just drove on. She said she knew if she stopped she could easily be blamed for the woman’s injuries, just by being there. What type of society raise children to ignore injured, dead and dying humans? And what type of society discourages helping others because there’s no personal responsibility taught and the random Good Samaritan will instead be blamed? There are times that Egypt feels truly medieval to me.

Hala has a cousin who lives in San Francisco and has been begging her to move there. She visited the U.S. prior to 9/11 and is now planning a trip for this summer and she’s definitely considering the option of moving there. She asked me a lot of questions about how Americans will perceive her with her headscarf. Despite wearing headscarves, both she and Gilan are very modern in their clothing, wearing jeans and slacks, basic sweaters and tops, just with a color-coordinated headscarf. I told her that I thought in the big cities I doubted most people would even react. Then again, I’ve been gone for almost a year so maybe I’m wrong. She’s worried, and sees on the news how Islamic people are singled out, but we talked about how post 9/11 as part of the human race we all need to be more diligent about watching out for others and being aware of our surroundings. Unfortunately, hyper vigilance can lead to erroneous claims and innocent people being accused, but sadly that’s a price we pay for taking charge of our own destinies. And hopefully the system is also designed to weed these out and correct mistakes. We can’t just lay back and let others, Allah, God, the Big Kahuna, do everything for us. And I think that is a very foreign concept to most Egyptians. This is a tough time for Egyptians, who see such great opportunities in other countries to live better lives, but still have deep pride in Egypt.

***
As I was writing this at night in our apartment, Ron was taking a shower and I suddenly heard a knocking on our window behind me. Without looking too hard (too many teenage horror films of creepy faces in windows) I inched away from the window and made Ron come check it out. As I was waiting for him, I saw something hit the window again. Chuckles and Ricky heard it too and were intently trying to get to the window (which doesn’t have a sill for them to perch on – though we’ll probably have something rigged up for them eventually). We turned off all the lights and Ron crept towards the window. Just as he was standing at the window behind my desk chair, a little bird flew off who had been sitting on our outside sill. It’s 9:30pm! Why isn’t he in bed?! Stupid bird.

Middle-East Realities

Ron and I discussed how, and if, to discuss the recent bombings in the Gaza Strip and Israel, since Egypt is definitely involved. And while I would like to pretend that life in Cairo is always roses and kittens, well kittens at least, I did want to at least address the situation and hopefully assuage any concerns (or inflate them, depending on the reader’s news-exposure).

When the latest bombings into and out of Gaza began three days ago we were avidly watching the news, from CNN International, to Arab news channels (you’d be surprised at the difference in coverage… leading one to realize that it’s always best to get your news from multiple, non-affiliated sources, so as to maybe get to the truth somewhere in between). However, of course, the truth in this matter is that bombs are flying back and forth and people are hurting. When something like this happens I always find myself thinking, “Who started it?” But in this case, with a war-torn history dating back thousands of years, that’s part of the problem, and at this point, it’s irrelevant to a solution, as no one will ever agree who started it.

Egypt is involved due to it’s border-sharing of the Gaza Strip with Israel. Plus we are living in an Islamic country, so when Islamic leaders call for protests and demonstrations, Egyptians participate as much as any other country (but luckily it’s almost always peaceful, or intended as such). So, to be careful and cautious and extra-vigilant expats, we watch the news, know where the demonstrations will be (this university or that one), and make sure to avoid the area on that day. There is a definite increase in the military’s presence in Cairo, but there tend to be 300 military for every 100 protestors.

Suffice it to say, we are staying smart and not doing anything foolish. And we are very safe. Let’s send our collective heart-wishes to those who need it most right now, and sadly that’s a lot of the world’s inhabitants. Suffering knows no borders.

Remiss

I know, we’ve been back from Italy for a whole 10 days and I have yet to post a single snippet. Bad blogger! But I’m having a hard time readjusting to life back in Cairo, and apparently am not fully ready to resume it. Plus we had Christmas, a cookie party, an outing to the cave churches and recycling center at Moqattam, "The Nutcracker" at the Cairo Opera House, and none of that would have been complete without a sprained ankle on Ron and a bad 48-hour cold on Julia. Happy Holidays!

Our Christmas Day was a bit Dickensian, minus the dirt and poverty of 19th century living, wait, we’re in Cairo, so it’s EXACTLY like a Dickens tale. It was visions of our Christmas future… Ron laid up with tender ankle, ice-on, ice-off, and me moaning in and out of consciousness on the couch. We had plans to have a friend over for dinner, but had to bail on him and cancel. If we weren’t so completely pathetic I would have invited him down just to hang out, but we were way beyond casual, into the grubby. So we owe him. I’d even forgotten to get anything for the cats, but luckily our friend Teresa had not and mailed us a stocking full of toys and goodies for them, so at least they were active on Christmas.

I’m going to blame our complete holiday apathy on the weather. I mean, surprisingly Cairo at Christmastime is full of colored lights, Christmas trees for sale, as much purple and green tinsel as you could need, plastic Santas lined up in the windows and everyone offering a “Merry Christmas”. It’s a city-sized Dollar Store of Christmas delight. But for both of us, neither of who has ever spent a Christmas in a non-cold state (Massachusetts, Ohio, New Jersey, New York, Maine, Virginia or Maryland), having glorious 70-degree weather with sun, sun and more sun, just left it all a bit hollow. Okay, maybe it was more of missing friends and family, and fighting a bad bout of homesickness (in addition to the cold), but it’s less mushy to blame it on the weather.

So Christmas passed with ice packs, ibuprofen and Kleenex. Not quite the stuff of catchy carols, unless you’re Ron, of course. You should hear his one that goes, “We can make a snowman in the litterbox… He’ll be made of poo and urine, too.” Yes, our children will be socially stunted, but hopefully they’ll have their father’s sense of humor (and maybe some musical talent).

So our outing to the cave churches in Moqattam on Christmas Eve day, was to take three of our friends out there who had never seen them. Ron arranged for an embassy driver and van – no matter how long we live here, we have vowed to never drive through Garbage City/Moqattam (yes, I know I still have to post my Garbage City piece, blame it on the weather). As we were all wandering through the first church, Ron managed to accidentally slip off one of the stone steps and twist his ankle. Unfortunately this was the same ankle just two weeks prior he had fallen on when we were in Rome when he caught it on an especially cobbled sidewalk. So needless to say, he was in significant pain, again. He sat in one of the seats and immediately a very kind and “helpful” Egyptian man came running up. We were all standing around Ron and this man asked if he was okay and if he could see Ron’s foot. For whatever reason, four of us, including Ron, admitted afterward that we all felt that maybe this was a Shaman of some kind, and with a wave of his hand, rub of a magic herb and his folkloric knowledge of ankle injuries, Ron would be cured. Instead we all stood there and watched this man grab Ron’s injured foot and without hesitation wrench it right and left and right again before any of us could utter, “STOP!” Ron’s face of anguish was heartbreaking. When the man wandered off and left us, Ben, the one voice of reason (albeit delayed reason), said, “I knew that was a bad idea.” Always the pessimist. Unfortunately, he’s more than often right.

So we managed to get Ron back to the van, where the driver kindly went and got him tea (Egyptians and Brits – tea cures all). Ron insisted that we continue to explore the other churches, so I directed the others where to go and made sure Ron got settled. We didn’t spend too much time there, but did manage to find one more church that I had not seen before (along with two monkeys (possibly gibbons) in a large metal rusted cage – I can’t even fathom why they’re there). We did a quick stop at the recycling center (yes, a future post awaits, I know), and then finally a stop at the alabaster factory.

At this last stop Ron was waiting in the van chatting with the driver and I came out to check on him. I propped the passenger door open and was leaning in as Ron was telling me about a little fan club he had just before I came out. Apparently he was quite the object of fascination of a group of young girls. They stared at him from across the road, and ever so slowly ventured closer, and eventually got close enough to ask the driver whether Ron knew English or French. I believe the driver told them English, to which they just smiled at him a lot, giggled and stared. As I was listening to this, I glanced up and on the fourth or fifth floor roof of one of the buildings on the edge of Garbage City was a group of small children waving furiously at me. So I waved back enthusiastically, which merely resulted in more waving. I finally ceased the waving, sensing that it could be endless. And a few minutes later a young girl holding the hand of her younger sister, I presumed, were peering at me from around the back of the van. I asked Ron if these were his fan club members and he said yes. I said hi, and they smiled and replied hi. The older one asked me in broken English if I spoke French. I said no and smiled sheepishly (I will apparently never live down my lack of language ability). At this point an older man sitting around (one of the thousands of examples of “older man sitting around” that are liberally sprinkled all over Cairo) yelled at them and in no uncertain terms shooed them off. But as they scuttled away I yelled goodbye and gave them a big smile – I didn’t mind them gawking at us.

So, we made it home, got Ron’s foot propped up and started the icing procedures (with ice cubes, not confectioners sugar). By Christmas Day he was definitely feeling better, so we’re hopeful he’s on the mend. My cold snuck in Christmas Eve, stayed for 48 hours, then departed. I would rather have had jewelry.

Despite our ailments, we had extended an invitation to Ron’s office to come to our place on the 27th for a Holiday Cookie Bash, which was essentially a very belated Open House. I spent the prior week figuring out the menu, making 2-3 cookie batches per day (to which Ron always asked if they were “test batches”, and I always replied, no), and trying to keep the house tidy after our housekeeper spiffed it up on Wednesday. The party went off really well, with fifteen people showing up, four of whom were kids, ten and under. Ron hooked up the Wii so that kept the kids, and the men, entertained. One of the girls who is about seven was utterly enchanted by Chuckles, who remained the entire 3+ hours in a large cat lump on the back of the couch and willingly put up with her tapping his nose, ruffling his fur the wrong way, and squeezing him with great delight. She wasn’t malicious and her mother kept instructing her how to pet kitties, and I was certainly watching for annoyed-feline signs, but maybe after dealing with Albert’s antics for the last month he was just glad to not be gnawed on.

Following the sugar gluttony, a few of us went to see “The Nutcracker” at the Cairo Opera House, which is located on Zamalek. It’s celebrating its 20th anniversary this year and is a really beautiful complex. It was apparently built by the Japanese following the demise of the previous opera house by a fire. I really didn’t know what to expect from the performance but I have to commend it. It might have been good to see it before Christmas to help with the lapsed holiday mood, but it was still enjoyable afterwards.

So now we prep for the Islamic New Year, which occurs tomorrow (December 29), then our New Year on the 31st. No big plans, but we’ll see what we can conjure up between now and then. And I will do my best to get caught up with past postings and finally get back into my Egyptian life.

Vacation Eve

So I was hoping to write and post my pyramids pics (which now include an escapade Ron, Ben and I had yesterday morning out to the Dashur Pyramids), but it’s Vacation Eve here and, no surprise, we’re not even packed yet (though things are strewn nicely about the bedroom, at least). So the pyramids will have to wait. Besides, does two weeks really matter in a 4,600 year life-span?

And I have to say that packing for a trip is such a fun study in how different parts of a marriage function. You have the expert procrastinator and the frantic finisher (you can guess which role Ron and I each fill), but in the end you both get out the door – with or without fussing, you decide.

But Rome and Florence beckon us, and we are thrilled to answer their call. So we will share all our exciting Italian exploits once we return in 10 days. Arrivederci!