Apparently, "preparing the apartment for the arrival of my parents" really meant rearranging the crap piled under my mattress to make it a bit less...well...a bit more... how it's supposed to be.

this is not actual update, for there are many things worth updating about and the inconvienence of final exams to tend to first. but my newest roomate just started this list and it was simply too funny to not post immediately. enjoy.

you know you have adjusted to living in cairo when...
1. you stop converting to US dollars, and therefore find a 25LE meal wicked expensive.
2. all the places that deliver food have you in their database.
3. you stop noticing the heaping piles of garbage on the sides of the street.
4. the Costa Coffee staff knows you name and what you want before you order.
5. you start thinking American cops are puny because they don't have AK47s.
6. you stop being picky about cleanliness of your food and choice of resteraunt.
7. 5LE (1 dollar) seems like an unjustifiable expense for koshary when there is felafel for 50piasters (50cents) on the next corner.
8. you blow your nose and the kleenex is black.
9. you feel like the videogame Frogger while crossing the street.
10. you say "laa" (no) and "iowa" (yes) and "inshaAllah" and "bes" (but) when you are speaking English.
11. you become nonchalant about flies and fruit.
12. young people of different sexes holding hands in the street seems kind of scandelous.
13. rain seems to inhibit life from running normally.
14. you stop being suprised when your "tan" washes off in the shower.
15. you wake up, or are simply alarmed, when cars STOP honking their horns.
16. you start wondering which headscarf would look best on you.
17, you see a dollar in your drawer and think, "what's that?"
18. you're suprised when the sky is blue.
19. you become deeply excited when you find a star or two in the night sky.
20. you want to cover "half-naked" tourists walking down the street.
21. stray cats, bats, beetles, and rats are considered local wild life.
22. you're confused when you walk into a grochery store with aisles.
23. you see a rooftop without trash piled high or impromtu shacks or tons of dusty satelite dishes and wonder what's wrong with the building.
24. you are suprised by freshly-painted, and therefore clean, buildings.
25. you think the US is mean for limiting how many employees can work in any giving business.
26. you see a political protest and wonder why the police haven't arrive yet.
27. you see a political protest of approximately 50 people and aren't suprised to see three times as many police officers.
28. you start recognizing the random people on the street, like men at the makeshift tama3a breakfast stands, the kleenex women, and the other "usual street folk" who share your daily routes.
29. you stop using a watch because the daily calls to prayer let you know what time it is.
30. you're no longer concerned about you're hair falling out.
31. you laugh and ask 'why?' when people tell you not to drink the tap water.
32. you're suprised when electronics work, or a probem is fixed within an hour, or something happens on time.
33. having a bigMac or mochaLatte delivered to your door no longer seems lazy or exotic.

and some personal additions...

34. when "fi aie?" and "aie da?" rolls off your tongue quickly and without thinking if you encounter reckless drivers, tempestuous metro riders, or perverted men on the street.
35. "yanni" finds its way into your daily lexicon.
36. when a problem arises, you scan your cellphone for relevant "contacts"
37. sleeping in on a sunday seems weird.
38. you stop asking what the cost is and just give the the taksi driver or store clerk your money with a pleasant 'ma3salama'
39. waking up before 8a or sleeping before midnight seems absurdly early.
40. the tinyest discrepancy becomes a community controvery or passionate argument.
41. western music is a treat to your ears and makes you feel rebellious.
42. you wonder when you can buy a najar or burqua.
43. people washing "their concrete" no longer seems weird.
44. the phrase "non-smoking section" provokes thoughts like, "impossible - really?"
45. you can bargain the vendors at theKhan down by 100s.

scrutinizing the difference between 'western human interaction' and its arab counterpart has been a trend in my time here, and ruminating about the limited facility to express the whole idea of love in the arabic language has been the hot topic of late. today i encountered the best example. my parents got me a 12-language pocket translator for christmas (thanks!) and while avoiding studying today i was browsing thru the italian phrases for my upcoming adventure. i found one catergory deep in the 'emotions' subcatergory of the 'conversational phases' section called "expressions of love". i continued to scroll past phrases like (i kid you not), "shall we dance together?" "you're eyes are very beautiful", "shall we go to the resteraunt together?", "shall we go to the hotel together?", to "i have never seen a girl as sexy as you" in italian. finding this absolutely hysterical that someone could actually use this little device to get laid while travelling, i switched over to the french mode to test the machine's accuracy. much to my suprise, the phrases translated almost perfectly, save the use of formal pronouns. out of curiousity, i switch to the arabic mode and i found:
"it is really nice to meet you".
one, single, poorly-translated phrase in place of the dozen or so available in the romance languages (perhaps i understand this name better now). hahahahahaah. priceless.

Life (not just for me, but for everyone around me) lately has been like a sinusoidal graph with lots of complicated variables. Everything is making positive progression, but it seems lots of problematic outliers are decorating our domain.

Our flat got broken into and while nothing of importance was taken and there was no genuine risk at hand, it is still uncomfortable to know that our safety was second guessed. Ali and Amanda had an even more alarming encounter in their building and we agree that there is a BIG difference between questionable safety on the streets or while traveling and questionable safety in your own home. In retrospect, the story is kind of funny: One of the roof-dwelling children managed to remove the steel bar on the inside of our kitchen door (how I still have NO idea) and proceeded to take a bottle of Sasha’s perfume and her broken cell phone, and leave a cat in our living room. After several hours of detective-style hypothesizing, the assistance of Mai, our landlord, and Sameh, and several sharp conversations in Arabic that were lost in translation and coated with incompatible social norms, we now have a lovely padlock on our kitchen door and a returned - albeit critical - sense of security.Unfortunately, the mini-robbery ordeal will simply be added to the subconcious collection of antiEgypt thoughts that we pile in the back of our minds.

When I first got to Egypt I met with an AUC friend who studied at AU last year and I asked her to give me advice. She said DEFINITELY stay for a year. Her explaination was that Fall semester students arrive and right when they start to adjust, Ramandan comes and unroots their fragile sense of normalcy, then once they've become accustomed to Ramandan schedule, it ends and they are thrust into a different scedule, and once they readjust to that it seems the stress of midterms final exams and the inevitable homesickness from western hoildays magnifiy moments of helplessness or frustration with Cairo, either based on language or gender or trival details. So, they are stoked to get home and leave Egypt on a bad note. Whereas full-year students follow the same pattern, but have four more months to decipher their frustrations and overcome helplessness, ultimately leaving Egypt with a bit more appreciation to be American but tons of happy memories and plans to return to masr gameela when possible. I thank her now for her advice that has proven to be impeccably true. While we - including myself! - are all irrationally excited for visits home or at least Europe - we will miss our humble cairene abodes and happily return to our quirky little lifestyles in february.

And on a similar tangent of advice... Over tea with Madison in our kitchen the other night, I came up with a brilliantly simple but really rewarding idea. I realized most of the study abroad students have hiLARious stories - some bizzarre, some unbeilivable, some distrubing, some that simply epitomize the 'clash of cultures', and it's a shame to let this stories linger between small groups of friends or hidden in blogs. SO! I am going to create (with the help, inshaallah, of other study abroad folk) an anthropology of anecdotes about living in Cairo. Since I am taking a Creative Writing course (in rebellion of traditional requirements and much to the chagrin of my advisors, i'm sure) i will have time to play with it and it won't be considered procrastination anymore! The chapters thus far include...

upon arrival. hijinks of living in a cairene apartment. traffic and taxis. how many times a week it is possible to eat koshary. getting to Upper Egypt. Khan alKhalili and other misadventures in bargaining. having tits in cairo. Ramadan 101. Lost in translation. you know you miss the US, when... Being Smitten in Egypt. Somewhere between tourist and local. and... Only in Egypt.


Who knows what will come out of it, but I'm stoked.

Annnnd - of course! - there are the impending travel plans that dance along the not-so-far-away horizon. Boast not about tomorrow, for we never know what a day may bring... But, inshaAllah, an adventure to Upper Egypt to the Sinai and then to Alexandria awaits my parents and I, but only after 10 days in Italy and New Year's Eve in Paris with my ro7i gameel! I am too lucky, alhamdulila.

ali: did you just go to the bathroom?
me: yep. there is toilet paper.
ali: awesome
(you know you have grown accustomed to living in cairo when the prescence of toilet paper in public bathroom suprises you slightly, but also brings you joy)

sasha: you know, we've got mohammed at the register and ahmed on the phone and the christian guy in the back trying to find the box...
(one brief moment in a hysterical diatriable about the inefficacy of stores in Cairo, lol)

Ahlan ya December, and the pre-finals blog paralysis that comes with it...

@Costa:
me: why did you chose to study in Cairo?
sash: to study Islam in a traditional environment, ironically.
me: hah. ooh the things we wish for.
sash: yea but this isn't traditional. this is hyperpsychotic gender, race, and class stratification.

@Ali's Image Pharmacy:
man: thilatha wa nus
me: mashy. lazem...bank... (proceed to explain that i'll be right back in broken arabish)
man: (understands but seems confused) mashy.
(several minutes later, i return and hand the man 350 pounds, which is like $60, to which he responded with a huuuuuuge fit of laughter and said)
man: thilatha wa nus. mish thitha mia wa nus!
me: laa-aa!
man: iowa. three and half pounds.
me: fil mish mish!
man: haha, you were going to pay 350 pounds?
me: min amrika, da grali awi...
man: hahaha.... good bye, come again...haha.
me: masalama (feeling like such an idiot)

Last weekend was bliss. I went camping at an eco-friendly, beduoin-style outcove between Nuweiba and Taba in the Gulf of Aqaba called Basata and it was, quite simply, a small peice of paradise on earth. Accomodations at Basata range from little bungalows made of bamboo to mere roofs. We opted for the simplest of pleasures: a tent on the beach. I unzipped my weekend abode on Friday morning to see the Red Sea shining at me only a few meters in the distance. Mmmm....

Before arriving to Basata, Sameh and I went diving in Dahab... the cherished Canyon and Bell's Blue Hole again. At Basata, we danced between naps on the beach and experimental cooking, took a quick climb up cliff and simply enjoyed the passing of time. And it's always comforting to be in a new place with someone who makes you feel so entirely yourself...

While I haven't seen the entirety of Egypt yet, and may never see all of it, I think she may be the most beautiful country in the world. The desert is infinitely alluring to me. There is something so classic and beautiful, yet harsh and unforgiving about it. The landscape at Basata and Dahab always empitomizes what I think of when I hear the word Bedoin: ruggedly beautiful and tranquil in its boldness. Last night Ali, Amanda, 3ly, and Mohammad and I went hourseback riding near the pryamids and Ali and I searched for words to express the timelessness of the Sahara. It's imposssible to capture the beauty of the desert at night with a camera, so I hardly have any photos, but something about the moonlight shining down on an endless tide of sundunes and the echo of horsehoves puts a little bit of peace in my soul, hehe. If I am destined to have a mid-life crisis, I think the resolution of it will be found somewhere between Egypt and Libya on a journey into the desert...

Every time I go to teach in Mar Girgis on Monday nights, I revel in nostalgia for the civility of the DC metro. One day I want to identify the source of the unspoken agreement that exists between metro patrons in American cities that people get off the train before the people on the platform get on the train. Unlike the harmonious “doors open, passengers disembark, passengers board, doors chime and then usually close” scenario I’m used to, the Cairo metro experience is far more chaotic: As the train draws near the crowd of women waiting for the all-women’s car (sidenote: this is an option, not a requirement, and I choose to take it for humor rather comfort because the co-ed-a.k.a-male-dominated cars are actually more bearable but they smell bad) begin pushing towards the approaching doors. During the brief moment when the train is stopped but the doors have not yet opened, the women inside the car show faces of determination and the women on the platform squeeze as close as possible to the glass with equally resolute expressions. When the doors open each huddled mass pushes in the direction of their desire with equal force, allowing only a lucky few on the fringes to sneak through towards the edge of the door. After a moment of stagnation, the momentum of the crowd exiting seems to triumph for a moment, but their space is instantly usurped by the crowd entering. Once I actually closed my eyes while getting on the metro (out of frustration with the various women pushing and proding me) and this method has proven to be the easiest and least painful for boarding.

Today during this dance I witnessed what was perhaps the cross-cultural highlight of my experiences abroad thus far….

A tall, elderly British woman was being cordially escorted (read: pushed helplessly through the doors) by the crowd into the already full car and after a few huffs and puffs calmly but loudly cried, “Stop pushing madam!” towards a particularly aggressive Egyptian woman. This woman, who had a full shopping bag on her head, took this as an opportunity to push the British woman intentionally. In reaction, the ladyBrit uttered, “Ugh! You are preposterous!” and dusted the other woman’s apparently uncivilized touch from her shirt. The shopping-bag-crowned women gave her another light push and then preceeded farther into the car, shouting “hiya magnooona, wallahy!” as she disappeared into the mass of scarves. I stood there sipping my coffee to hide the enormous grin across my face. What was weird was that this poor British woman seemed to radiate a need for empathy or at least a need for some sort of confirmation that she was not actually crazy…But I couldn’t give it to her. When her frazzled glance passed over me, she saw nothing but another metro-bitch.
I felt in this moment so invisible it was almost nice.

Of course, every positive situation has its negative counterpart in the karmic realm, and before arriving to the platform I got my share of cultural frustration. I approached the ticket window to tuck my dirty 1 pound bill into the tray and mouthed a polite ‘ahlan’ to the ticket vender. This gesture of recognition gives me a way as a foreigner every time as most people don’t even make eye contact with the cranky ticket guy as they cram their piasters under the glass. Nevertheless, I continue to do it with hopes that it might in some insignificant way make the cairo metro a more pleasant place. Tonite my naive courtesy was met with this slime-of-the-earth-ticket-guy looking up from his little pile of tickets to toy with the foolish tourist: he held the ticket up, as if questioning my intention for giving him the money, I raised my eyebrows and nodded slightly thinking no duh, jerk. He then placed the ticket near the finger-print-marked glass and waited for me to reach for it like a mindless animal. I humored him and added another finger print to the glass. He laughed and then placed the ticket into the tray. As I took the ticket he continued to hold it as if I was a dog pulling at a chew toy. I looked daggers at him and whispered “Fi ay?” His bewilderment with my surprisingly-local reaction forced him to let go of the ticket and I walked towards the platform brewing up a little storm in my mind… You win some, you lose some.

I’m not sure if unconditional love exists in the Arab world. Most sub-par societal relations (especially between men and women) are mistakenly attributed to Islam, but this is one that may actually ring true. I haven’t fully gathered my thoughts on the matter, but the concept of conditionality and companionship seem intimately intertwined based on my experiences here. I base my observations from the Qu’ran, person experience, and stories from the lovely ladies in my life who have “been there and done that” along the Arab/Muslim dating scene in a particularly jaded or cynical fashion. All I can safely conclude is unconditional feelings are far more natural in a modern secular society than a society infused with one main religious dogma. Is this because humans may actually be incapable of unconditional feelings? Is this because society is more stable and predictable with conditions and expectations? Is this because conditions ensure obedient behavior? Obedience, to me, is a tricky word - along with submission and conditions. There is some point at which these words become, what D.H Lawrence would consider, anti-Life (Lawrence, a deeply spititual dude, argues there is no sin, simply things we do that limit life and things we do that enhance life). At what point does obedience to each other become dominance over one another? At what point does submission change from an act of humility to an act of idiocy? At what point do conditions terrify us out of being ourselves? These thoughts need not be entertained more than momentarily, but still seemed worth noting. I am only stuck on this “unconditional feelings” idea because I learned a new word in Arabic this week عميق, ameeq. It means ‘deep’, like deeeeeeeeeep. And I think it is these unconditional feelings (rooted somewhere deeeeeeep in our souls) that lead us to what the Greeks refered to as ‘human eudaimonia’, or human flourishing, which – no matter where you’re from or how you identify yourself – is probably the point of all our little efforts on this planet. So here’s to human flourishing and unconditional feelings and a weekend-much-needed….alHamdulila, It’s Thursday! And almost TGIF, for my readers across the Atlantic.

Although I am well passed the "withdrawl/lonliness" stage of "cultural adjustment", according to the official diagram i am currently suffering "culture shock". neat.

"culture shock" is characterized by, but as i will argue momentarily, not limited to

- homesickness - boredom - lethargy - withdrawal

- irritability - hostility toward local people - irrational anger - excessive sleeping

i am craving crisp sidewalk strolls along a logical street in some bustling, american metropolis...with the sweet sound of english whispering into my ears and the approximation of fresh air nipping at my nose.

impending due dates and mounting responsibilities can't shake the veil of boredom i view my academic days through. thoughts of european adventures and my parents visiting still spice up the day generally, though.

i torment the men who look at me while i walk down the street by staring straight back. i get offended when people talk to me in english if i speak in arabic. and i also get offended when they speak entirely in arabic or tell me my arabic is good, for no reason at all. so by process of elimination, that might mean every unfamilliar person who speaks to me in arabic or english frustrates me. at least its only the unfamiliar ones.

i am not angry (probably due to fatigue, eternal optimism, and a deeply-seated desire to not be a violent person) but i did spend 2/3 of last Thursday in bed and most of the weekend in a sedentary state, so i think that covers the rest of the bases.

so, you figure any advice offered from a culture-shock-ridden mind is bound to be the most cynical and unforgiving advice possible? thus, my readers venturing to cairo this week or next semester, take this with a very large spoonful of sugar...cairene culture shock is distinct in the following ways,

you may experience an internal conflict about the concept of Egypt being in Africa. Political instability, widespread disease, and government corruption aside, Africa (not that I’ve really experienced it or anything) represents to me a society based on something deeper. A society where people still group together by something more meaningful than political views or religious dogma. A society of people with a more enlightened appreciation for time..and earth… and a lack-of-clothing. Sometimes I think the concept of Africa simultaneously brings forth ideas of true justice and injustice. I am listening to Angelique Kido so it is possible my entire view of Africa at the moment is informed by tranquil acoustic guitar, naturalistic percussion and bluesy-folk-lyrics… the point is, any evidence that Egypt is the richest (or second richest if I have underestimated South Africa) country in Africa doesn’t seem to nudge Egypt into, I dunno, fixing what the western colonial powers effed up about its continent for anyone other than itself. Egypt, the mother of the civilization, is seeming a little more like a selfish little child.

another internal conflict you might encounter is that about clothing.

“… it’s because people like to be able to judge a person by the way they look here…. It’s not like that in the US. I mean, you could be a really religious person in America and wear a tank top.”

Indeed, the US has a unchallenged monopoly on superficiality (I think of the line from Before Sunset when Celine says, “I miss the overall happiness of people in the States, even if it’s bullshit sometimes, “How are you today? Great! Great! Have a great day!””) but at least we spare appearance or dress any judgemental superficiality. I guarantee you - give it a week, give it a month, give it an hour – you will critically ask yourself when you get dressed in the morning, “do I want to look nice today, or do I want to be respected”. But be warned, the days you opt for ugliness, an even lower level of social-worth may ensue.

[ continuation pending ]

Well, Hello, Sunday. You’ve finally crawled out of the mess of introspection, girly talk, and procrastination that decorated the weekend. In the last 12 hours, I maganged to pull together a fairly logical major-life-decisions flow chart, a critical evaluation of the possibility of Islamic states in the late 21st century using sudan, iran, and egypt as case studie, a critical review of 7th century texts detailing the shi'i versus sunni stance on legitimate succession of the caliphate, correct more than half my exams for LAMB, and pleasure write whenever I felt inclined to do so. There is indeed a God, who is indeed merciful, and may have slowed the spinning of the moon a bit for me tonight. I am slowly growing used to the idea of “painful Sunday mornings” and “alhamduilia It’s Thursday”s as opposed to the “Pancake Sundays,” and TGIF’s