explanation.

One of my last days in Cairo, Skyping with my parents my mother pointed out the reality:

"Christine, what the heck is going on? Your entire blog is about food."

I explained to her the truth -- it had to be. It took two weeks of class for me to realize that my students had found my blog, and since I advertised it easily enough I know that most of my friends frequented it. What else am I allowed to write about then what I eat?

I can't say that I am struggling teaching, or that a certain student is my favorite and really stands out. I also could not write about how frustrated I was with my work, the culture, and Islam. I couldn't write about how ridiculous a custom is, how I know a student was cheating through my class (I finally caught him during the exam), or divulge the great answers I received from students on exams.

I also could not share my struggle trying to get my students understand the word 'celebrity.' Your father is not a celebrity. Unless you frequent with JLo, your friends are not celebrities. Let's list celebrities. This word will be on the final exam. Know this word.

I think the quote book is coming -- but an explanation was needed.

the list.

Julie and I are all around the apartment packing and listening to Disney tunes… but walking home tonight we agreed that my sparse blog needs one last post. Julie, of course, helped me compile this.

You know you have been in Egypt too long when:

• You spend days impressed with your new tan until you realize that it washes off in the shower.
• You feel uncomfortable speaking in the present tense and not saying “inshallah.”
• The air conditioner drip is refreshing.
• You would much rather go behind a building than use any kind of public restroom.
• You don’t even expect toilet paper, which is why you carry it in your purse.
• You spend a longer time asking what fruit juices they have than it takes you to down your asseer manga.
• You are terrified of going back to the States and actually having to match your clothes again.
• It doesn’t matter if you haven’t slept, showered, or are smiling -- regardless, you are sexy and hollered at.
• You constantly find yourself talking about the inconsiderate jerks right in front of you -- in English, so they can’t understand.
• You walk in the street, to avoid the dozens of obstructions on the sidewalk.
• Your snot runs black from all the pollution (thanks, Julie).
• You are the self appointed informant to let the Australian tourists know the reason they are getting the stink eye in the Metro is because they are on the women’s only car.
• You buy scabes medication in anticipation of contracting it from hostels/couches/people.
• The watermelon man with his donkey no longer interests you, but camels will never get old.
• You feel bad for the tourists who consistently get ripped off and scammed.
• You have no desire for papyrus. You are too aware of the whole scam.
• Sometimes you say ‘mea mea’ just to make cab driver/waiter/salesman love you.
• Insect repellent is your perfume. Sunscrean is your make up.
• You find it impossible to have full conversations in English. Thank-you has permently been replaced with ‘shukran’ and yes with ‘iowa’ (which is always long, drawn out, and flamboyant).
• You can completely decipher what the cab driver is saying just by the way he honks his horn.

Egypt has been great, but I am so happy to go home.

Who Needs Sleep?

So it is actually only 1:00am -- which isn't too late at all but I should be in some subconscious dreamland rather than sitting here in the dark full of energy and excitement.

Tonight was my last class to teach -- now I just have their exam on Thursday. It is really quite sad, actually, because I love teaching. Today an Egyptian girl studying to become a teacher observed my class and said she really enjoyed it. She wanted to make sure it was alright to e-mail me with her questions. I reminded her that I really have no idea what I am doing. The whole coversation was pretty edifying and if I relayed the conversation here it would only be for my ego so I will refrain.

Come 9:30 I couldn't seem to get my students to leave. It was 9:35 when I said "don't you want to go home? see your families? eat dinner? anyone?" Still I was there for another ten minutes (which I really don't mind at all, I just don't understand) answering questions and making photocopies. Downstairs at the copy machine I could see in Jake's classroom where his students had completely bombarded him as well.

Post we had the usual discussion of ideas for dinner. My earlier attempt at cooking (potato, tomato, egg white, & feta) turned into a pitiful attempt at sustenance which Jake cited as "peasant food." He settled on schwarma and I was going to get a Double Cheeseburger (plain, of course) and a yogurt from the grocery store.

As soon as I opened the door to McDonalds I saw two of my students (and they saw me) and we smiled. The two sisters sit in the front and smile every time we make eye contact. The girls are lovely, and funny -- today I gave them a vocabulary list to see which words they were unsure of and it only took two minutes before one raised her hand and declared that she could not share with her sister -- "She is so selfish!" They are also two of the girls who asked me to teach them next level -- I hate being their teacher only because they are the type of girls I would hang out with at home and the teacher/student relationship is an awkward one to trample on.

They invited me to eat with them, so I dissed my plan of yogurt and got french fries instead. While the situation had awkward written all over it, I didn't feel so at all and my fries went cold from talking (granted, whether or not they felt awkward is a different story). We giggled like girls through most of dinner and I wish I could just give them their exam so I could hang out with them already with out the teacher-comes-with-baggage-feeling.

I found out a lot about their life; things I wouldn't expect. They are also two of the very few Egyptian girls I have gotten to actually talk to, so I found my education coming alive while they told me facts about Egypt and Islam that I had long since read in a text book or article somewhere.

They actually have relatives in North Carolina and have been trying to get their visas worked out to come work with their family in the States. Inshallah they will come visit soon.

We of course also had the food discussion, because in the beginning all I ate was McDonalds and my students know it. They said that I must like McDonalds very much -- so then I explained my situation when it comes to consumption in Egypt: either I don't like it or my stomach can't handle it.

I came back to my apartment thrilled and still giggling over seeing them there -- only wishing I had someone to share my excitement with. I think that is why I am so restless now -- either that or my body is finally going into shock over all the fast food I have eaten.

Tomorrow I get to grade papers and make an exam all day.... and yet there is something strangely satisfying about that thought.

If You Can't Beat Them

The story of my life (in Egypt): I can't find anything to eat.

I think if I eat much more fast food I am going to die of a heart attack -- have sworn myself off of falafel, schwarma makes me sick everytime, and how much pasta and hard boiled egg-whites can a girl eat? The remainder of things I can eat fall into a few categories; carbohydrates, pizza (which is also kind of a carb), and juice (isn't fruit full of carbs as well?).

Tonight, restless as always I went 'exploring' to see if I could find anything suitable for my stomach.

And really, let's be honest - I really just wanted to get out and wander on my own.

After about an hour of only ending up at McDonalds (where I did not eat) and then wandering down the Cornish towards San Stefano I found a lovely little road which offered me a few choices of food items: schwarma, falafel, and french fries.

I was getting pretty proud of myself for mastering the 'don't you even hiss at me' body language - arms cross, angry mouth, looking straight forward and walking fast when I settled on a thirty-five cent ice cream cone. Chocolate. It melted fast, but it was good -- so I crossed under the Cornish and to take a slightly different route back (yes, walking on the other side of the street is different).

Of course, trying to consume my ice cream cone means I have given up my 'leave me alone' walk and I was quite content so it only took half a minute of walking before two lanky 20-something guys walking infront of me turned around and said "wow." I took a cue from Julie and Sam and replied back sarcastically "WOW," and they laughed and mumbled something about the pyramids (wtf?) in Arabic. Then I was asked where I was from (ana Amrekea) and if I had see the pyramids (why yes, of course).

Of course, after they found out I was American, the conversation was half in broken English and partially in broken Arabic. "you are very beautiful," one of them said. Apparently when I am looking disgusting (and yes, I really did look gross), I sweat aphrodisiac because this is a reoccurring theme in my life.

They were pleasant enough. The conversation switched between English and Arabic when one of us didn't know the right word. Where were you going? (home) What are you doing in Alex? (I teach) Where is your boyfriend? (In America.) How long are you here? (One week. Seven days.) Do you live alone? (No, I live with my cousin. My father's sister's son.) What is your name? (Diane.) Can we walk you home? (No.) We are so happy that we talk to you now.

One of their names was Ahkram and I didn't catch the other's. It doesn't matter because I will never see them again (ahumdilallah). There wasn't really a way of me getting out of walking with them for those few blocks, so I just gave in to it.

I also really need to learn how to say "I am Christian" in Arabic, because they asked me if I was Muslim and none of the words I could conjure up seemed to explain my religious affiliation: Christian, Jesus, Bible...

The funny part is how I got out of the situation. Ahkram turns to his friend and they have a few seconds of noncomprehendable Arabic and then turn back to me,

Ahkram: "Ehna - "
his friend: "we."
Ahkram: "Yani, We love hashish. We like it a lot. We go smoke hashesh now. You love hashesh?"
me: la. no. la la la. la ihab, I don't like hashish at all. la.
Ahkram: So you not come with us.
me: mish ayza - I hate hashish.

and with that, they slowed down (I didn't look back to see if they were turning or just letting me continue on) and I continued on my own.

Whoever thought my ardent hatred for marijuana would leave me thankful (if just once) for cannabis?

point.

I just needed to prove that I am not the most evil teacher in the word, and that I can in fact be quite endearing towards my child-students.

My Goals have Changes Too

Daniel, Egypt:

"
My goal used to be to learn Arabic, then I realized that it was impossible. Now my goal is to learn to blow smoke rings. I like having goals I can achieve.
"

Through my Western Eyes

Nothing bothers me more then when I see a women in full nikab and then her husband wearing Western clothing - a tight striped t-shirt and a gold chain to top it off. It is not the nikab that bothers me, but the man who accompanies it. If he was dressed even half as conservatively (or religiously) as she is then I would have no qualms. Behind the slits I see two eyes outlined in thick eyeliner staring back at me apologizing for bumping me on the train. Beneath the black cloth (okay, who ever decided on black was seriously oppressive, do you know how hot it must be in there?) you can see quite a bit of eye shadow blinking back at you. That little bit of makeup is like their desperate plea for individuality.

Besides, I don't think the nikab fully serves it's purpose. Jake has said it before and I think it is true for a lot of guys: the girls completely covered, gloves and all fascinate him.

On a slightly funnier note, the other day we went to the Alex Library and there was a woman there in full nikab using the computer. She was holding up her digital camera to and either videoing or photographing whatever was in front of her. In the States this would be a HUGE problem... the I mean, just imagine it to realize how conspicuous it looks. However, here in Egypt, it is not even noticed.

At first, I loved the modest culture. Even the Axe adds only show a pretty girl and that feels like something of a scandal, but I think the little things are starting to get to me.

I took this video at the beach... the beach where we were not allowed to lay down and had to wear clothes into the water -- where even then we were followed around by Egyptian men. I yelled at a 12 year old boy; "Do you understand my English? What do you want? Then go away. Leave us alone."

Julie and I both took videos of men dancing at the beach, but I can't seem to get mine to load. It is incredibly sexual and suggestive; yet still, I am not interested. I am sure you already realized this, but just to add -- the women are not allowed to dance.

While we were in Cairo the harassment was so bad I second guessed my ever wanting to come back and work in Egypt. In Alexandria it is not nearly as bad, but it is annoying when I am dressed much more conservatively than women in hijab and yet I am still called out and hissed just because my head is not covered (good thought, I was totally not interested until you treated me like a piece of meat -- now, of course I would love to marry you) . One of these days, when I am wearing a skirt that passes my knees and a loose t-shirt that doesn't a single curve I am going to totally loose it on some unsuspecting Egyptian guy. While Jake has specifically asked not to be present when it happens, I know at least half a dozen people would pay to watch me verbally drop kick my assaulter.

While I have always remained incredibly skeptical over Hirsi Ali, I find that my mind keeps wandering to the word "caged."

In other news, one of my students -- a very mannered Egyptian guy in his late teens or early twenties came up to me after class yesterday.

"Miss, I was wondering what the word 'promiscuous' means?"
me: umm.. ha... have you been listening to American music?
"yes."
me: Okay. Well. Um. It is Haram. I can't really explain it to you. So haram. It is like sexy. Why don't you Google it, that will give you a better answer than I can.

Promiscous was so much easier to explain to Kathrin and Irene.