The Joys of Packing

One of the things I've discovered since moving overseas is an intense need to restock on visits back to the states. Restock what, you might ask? Well, on this trip, I needed some new clothes (since losing weight in Cairo), some books for my literacy coach training, some food items that are not available in Cairo and that I missed last year (flaxseed and wheat germ--homemade dog biscuits to follow!), running shoes, running clothes, and a year's supply of allergy and asthma medication! Also, some lovely bottles of liquid nourishment for the Rehydration Hash and to share with friends...

Of course, all this means three bags are returning with me tomorrow. I'm sure at least one is a tad overweight. I'm envisioning a mad repacking in the Lufthansa cue tomorrow as I reshuffle items, remove all the meds from their packagings (I'm sure 36 thin boxes weigh at least a pound), get rid of some of the clothes, and look for other ways to save on weight.

Why can't packages just be shipped to Egypt without being destroyed or stolen in customs? Life would be so much easier then!

Oh, and as cute as the sheep chair is, it is NOT mine and is not returning with me!

Ithaca H3

It was a lovely day, despite the rumbles of thunder in the distance and the few raindrops that managed to break their way through the humidity. A lovely day for a wedding!

The bride and groom

The Ithaca Hash House Harriers...a lovely group of young, enthusiastic, friendly folks who think nothing of running off into the woods, though briars and brambles, over logs, across creeks, in mud, and under trees. I have no idea how long the trail was, or where exactly we were during most of it (there were no paths during the majority of the hash), and there were three beverage stops (amazing that the hares got coolers to all the locations). I felt like a kid running through the woods and will likely have scars to remember this day (though I wonder if it's not poison ivy as well!).

One of the "BC" stops in the woods...definitely not the desert hash I'm used to!

I am looking forward to joining up with them again. It will make visits home much more enjoyable, that's for sure!

Food in America

After living overseas for six years, I have come to the following conclusion: I would be unbelievable obese if I lived in the US (or, I'd be working out two hours a day to avoid that). There is so much junk for sale in grocery stores! And such quantities of it! A box of cereal is actually about 10 servings. Now how many of you get 10 days of breakfast from a single box? Add to that the amount of sugar in a serving, and you're eating a day's worth of sugar. Then, if you look at food prices, the most over-processed, least nutritious stuff is what is cheapest. And we wonder why America has a weight problem.

Then, going out to eat here is also eye-opening. Portions are huge! I remember as a kid, being able to go out and order dinner and a dessert, sometimes sharing an appetizer. If I were to do that now, I'd have to be rolled out of the restaurant.

I have read The Omnivore's Dilemna and Fast Food Nation (which in my opinion were just updated versions of The Jungle) and thought there were good points made. On the flip side, when I watched Super-Size Me, all I wanted to do at the end of the movie was go have a burger at McDonalds.

Ok, I'm off to the grocery store. On foot...but that's another gripe I have about this country. Why drive when walking is an option?

Green Grass, Brown Cows, and Blue Sheep…

Donegal County, Ireland – July 2009

I’ve broken down my time in Donegal by day here, mostly because at first I was writing posts each day (so my Alzheimer’s leaning brain wouldn’t forget what I did). Going out to the wee hours meant that most of the days didn’t really get going until after noon. Mornings were spent updating photos, checking email, reading, and looking at the rain. At some point in my life, I hope I can learn to sleep in…

Day 1:

I arrive at the Dublin airport just after 2:30pm. The plane takes a lovely drive around the airport, taxiing forever to get to our gate. It was like a Sunday afternoon drive, only in a gigantic gas guzzling machine, and the entire time I was thinking, “I need to catch the 3:20 bus. I’m never going to make it.” We finally parked, I dashed to the baggage area (luckily, the Dublin airport is not very large), and proceeded to watch everyone else’s bags ride the belt before mine appeared. 3:15pm at this point. I wheel my bags like mad and look for the bus park. On the way, I do notice that cars are coming at me from the right when I cross over. I had forgotten they drive on the opposite side of the road here…Japan flashback! I get there at 3:25, but it seems there’s a cue and a bus! I ask if it’s the line for bus route 30, and it is! The bus was a few minutes late arriving to the airport from downtown.

The ride to Donegal took about four hours. Once we got going, the downpour started. Not drizzle, not sprinkle, but pouring buckets. The bus made a short stop in one town, and I had just enough Euros to but some crisps and a diet coke (I neglected to mention nothing was served on Eir Lingus, and I was hungry since breakfast had been forever ago and I couldn’t find my energy bars). Arrived in Donegal to pouring rain and smiling Richard and Claire. They are the best hosts ever!

During the ride, I decided that Ireland was very green, had lovely countryside, and most of the residents were sheep or cows. Seriously, I don’t think I saw many people outside except in the towns (I suppose that was partly due to the rain, but still). And there were very few houses out in the countryside, but lots of cattle and sheep grazing away. The few houses were adorable, though, especially the older-looking stone ones. And it all was so green! I have a feeling Cairo is going to be looking very dusty and brown when I get back.

We went to their house, Claire’s brother-in-law Johnnie joined us for dinner, and then we went to the pubs. We visited at least four that night (if I remember correctly). The first place was teeny tiny, but quite cozy. They let me pose behind the bar and pretend to pull a pint. Another one, the Reel Inn, had live music—traditional Irish stuff –that was quite good. We left the last pub after 2am, which is when the basement disco there apparently begins to get busy. But I was yawning like mad and needing to go to bed.

Day 2:

Sunshine! Hooray! I even managed to sleep in until 8:30, but stayed in bed until about 10. Eventually we had “breakfast” (if you call it that at 12:30pm). Then, Richard, Claire, and I went for a walk down to the beach. Along the way, we passed lots of cows and sheep. One field of sheep had recently been shorn. The shorn ones looked like they received a bad homemade punk rock haircut; their remaining fleece was clumpy and spray painted blue. Near the beach, we watched a horse jumping competition (not jumping over horses, but riding horses and jumping over fences). The tide was very low, and we could have walked out for quite some ways, but due to our lack of wellies, we passed on that. We meandered along the coastline and worked our way around the peninsula. We saw oyster and mussel equipment out in the water (they harvest them here and ship them to France and Japan), more cows, lots of little islands, and lots of empty shells. We’re going to take a water taxi around the islands later this week.

Shortly after returning to the house, the rains started. It poured quite hard for a while, but then cleared up. After it cleared, a huge rainbow appeared in the sky and was visible for quite some time. No pot o’ gold or leprechaun in sight, unfortunately.

Claire’s sister, Terese, joined us for dinner last night. We hit the pubs just after 10pm again. At the first pub, McCafferty’s, the bartender let me pull a Guinness! Then, I pulled a Heineken and a Carlsberg. I think I should scrap being a teacher, move to Ireland, and become a pub wench. We went again to the Reel Inn again and I met the owners, both of whom were performing. We went to at least two other places (again, they do start to blur together after a while). A lovely old man from the first pub followed us to a few of the other locations and bought me a few whiskeys. Richard was introduced as my dad all night, and Claire was my child bride mum. I chatted with some lovely Irish blokes that night as well. The musicians from the Reel Inn found us at the last stop we made and stopped to say hello (they remembered me because Claire said I was from Cairo). We made plans to meet up with some of our new friends tonight (and apologies to the one we called at 3am regarding his intentions). And again, got home after 2am, and we sat around the kitchen table having a nightcap and eating lovely little sweets.

Day 3:

If I am going to be out until the wee hours every night, I really need to learn how to sleep in. I was up again at 8:30, but did manage to fall back asleep for another hour.

Today we took a drive west along the peninsula of Donegal County to see some of the sights. We passed through Killybigs, a port town with tons of fishing trawlers parked in the dock. From there, we started on a windy, curvy, uphill road with plenty of dips, thus making driving fun for Claire, who couldn’t always tell where the road was going next.

We finally arrived at Slieve, which is the location of the highest sea cliffs in Europe. Just as we parked the car, the skies opened. So, we put on the raincoats and got out anyways. We climbed to the top, avoiding the sheep droppings that covered the trail (I mean, really, couldn’t they just keep it in the grass that made up 99% of the area?). The view from the top was amazing for the heights, but not for the distance. Visibility was not great at all. On the drive down, the dips and curves were more pronounced, and I was thinking it was a good day to spin off over the cliff and into the ocean…wet road, curves, oncoming cars, small roadwidth, unhappy passenger (not vacation-related cause)…

Next, we drove over back roads to Glengesh pass, where we parked for another photo op. Glengesh is where Claire’s dad grew up. It’s basically a little town between two big hills (that seems to be the case for most Irish towns). I saw the house where he grew up (just from the road), and more cows and sheep. We continued to to Maghera, which had a lovely waterfall, made all the lovelier thanks to several days of ongoing downpours. Claire’s mum was from that area. We saw the church where her parents married, too, which was in Angara. We also saw some “new” waterfalls coming down off the hills and running along the roads, making driving safe and even more enjoyable. The ditches were overflowing on the road!

After dinner, we hit the pubs again. When we met one of the blokes from last night, we decided that we all must have had our beer goggles on by that point, because he was boring as anything. So, we ditched him at the second pub and continued on to the Abbey. There, we met a couple of blokes, one of whom was trying to convince me that they made movies (while his friend was trying to keep a straight face). In actuality, the one was a shell farmer and the other was a solicitor (lawyer for my American friends). They both were funny guys, though, and the solicitor did make me a travel itinerary plan for Yeats Country (the Irish poet, W. B. Yeats, is buried nearby).

Day 4:

Today, we stuck around Donegal Town. We started at the central diamond (no, it’s not a square, it’s called a diamond in Donegal). I picked up a few souvenirs for family (but not everyone, since I seem to be in a shopping rut and unable to find things for those people I usually get presents for). There was a lovely bookshop, an old-style department store, and even a yarn shop with locally spun wool (bought one skein, for really warm socks or a hat and mittens).

We visited Donegal Castle, built back in medieval times. I’m ready to move in, once they fix the roof over the new wing of the building. The tower was incredible and the stairs were interesting. They were designed so the occupants would have the advantage when fighting invaders—curved to the right going up, different heights, and, thanks to centuries of use, very slippery now and slanted downward. After that, we went to the site of an old Abbey (most of which’s stones were used in building the castle), which is now a cemetery. Some of the graves dated back to the 1800’s.

Then, we took a drive to Lough Eske (that’s “Lake” Eske, for my non-Irish friends). There were two luxury hotels there, one of which was an old castle, but not in the same style as Donegal Castle. This place looked more Versailles than stone, and had some interesting sculptures in the garden. The lake was beautiful and peaceful. The road to and from the lake was scary as usual, with the narrowness, bends, and high grass…plus cars zipping along at 80 km an hour!

That night, we went for dinner at a great little Italian restaurant in Donegal, then did our usual tour of the pubs. We watched some Irish dancing at the Reel Inn, and again ended our evening in the Abbey.

Day 5:

My last day in Donegal County. We headed south along the coastline towards Sligo County to visit Claire’s sister, Anne. First, we stopped off in Drumcliffe, to see Yeats’s grave. His grandfather was a pastor at the parish church where the cemetery was located, and he grew up in the area. The cemetery was beautiful. I don’t know what it is, but I really do like cemeteries and I’ve seen some beautiful ones in the world (especially one in the Ukraine). Maybe it comes from living the first six years of my life with a cemetery across the street that doubled as our play area!

Next, we arrived in Sligo, a beach town complete with a boardwalk, ice cream and chip shops, and surfing lessons. Yes, in the rain and wind and cold (for me) temps, crazy locals were not only surfing (wearing wetsuits), but swimming in the water. I was shivering on shore in fleece and jeans. There were gorgeous, steep dunes that I climbed to get a better view. We also had tea and scones with Anne.

This was our first night at home. We ordered Indian food (very good!) and were in bed early, since I had a 7am bus to catch to Dublin.

Overall, I had a lovely week with Claire and Richard. They were very friendly, great hosts (I was only allowed to buy one round of drinks the entire time I was with them), and good company. I am already planning on returning to visit them again in the future. There’s a lot more to explore in the area (and I might miss the Abbey, the Reel, and my future job at McCafferty’s).

For some reason, my photos are refusing to upload to blogger at the moment. If you'd like to see pictures, friend me over on Facebook.

Time in Poland

What a Week….

I’m writing this on a bus that is zipping up and down the green Irish hills on its way to Donegal. Poland is now behind me, though the rains that hit Poland seem to have followed me here. What’s the deal with that? This has been one of the rainiest summers I’ve experienced in a while. My last week was marked with highs and lows, making it the most memorable yet of my vacation.

First, I hashed with the Warsaw H3 last Saturday. What a welcoming group they were! Witch Doctor had graciously answered all my stupid email questions in advance, I was warmly greeted by Tampon Jelly and ***Nipple?????*** at the Warsaw Marriott and rode to the RV with them and ***DOROTA*****. Hashing is different when it’s not in the middle of a wadi! We were on paths that were also frequented by cyclists and picnickers. There were trees and grass everywhere. There were 13 of us that day, yet the circle seemed as long as our Cairo ones with five times that number! I learned some new songs and saw what happens to departing Warsaw hashers (let’s just say they don’t get a personalized copper mug). They made the virgins drink beer out of their shoes (but we were lucky enough to keep it in the cup!). My favorite part was when Shasta, Witch Doctor’s new German Shepherd pup, was baptized as the new “Hash Hound”. I think my little Howie deserves that in Cairo! The on-on was at Cindy’s, who was a hasher leaving Warsaw. I made it back to Minsk Maz. at 7:15 am on Sunday, thus canceling my plans to hit the free Chopin concert in Warsaw that day!

The last week of camp was fun. I had four quiet girls and seven energetic boys who wore me out every day. Nine were with me last week, while two were moved to my group this week. We learned new words, I tried to get the kids to use English, and I think there favorite part was break and lunch (kids are alike everywhere). The parents had a barbeque for us on Friday night. Let me explain Polish hospitality. Poles feel that you can never eat enough. If you clean your plate, more food is piled on. If you hide your plate in order to avoid getting more food, a clean plate is given to you with more on it. There were kielbasas, chicken, pork chops, salad, homemade bread, homemade berry pastries, and fresh fruit. The parents were nice enough to leave their kids at home, too. It was a fun evening and the parents were very grateful for the program. They shared that their children came home everyday and wouldn’t stop talking about what they did at American Summer. Kudos to Eliza and Cheryl for coordinating the program, and my fellow volunteers Damon, Matt, Steve, and Cory for being such fun companions during the two weeks!

The hash was not the only social event of the week; in fact, I socialized more this week than I have in a long time! On Monday, the group of volunteers played a game called “Ticket to Ride”, where you build trains across Europe. We skyped Joe during the game and chatted. It was almost like old times, when Joe would be in Minsk Maz., too. Next summer, hopefully, he will be able to return.

On Tuesday, one of the assistants, Marta, had all the volunteers and assistants over for a bonfire at her house outside Minsk Maz. We grilled skewers and kielbasa, enjoyed the few hours that the rain stayed at bay. Her grandfather brought his accordion over, and the Poles serenaded us Americans with some traditional bonfire songs, one of which I remember from Siennica (all I know of it is to yell “Hey” during the chorus). Unfortunately, I was not in the best mood that evening due to an unwelcome email earlier in the evening (the low point of the week), so I didn’t stay long. Instead, I took a long walk back to the hotel along along the shoulder of the Warsaw highway and thought to myself, “Gee, I really shouldn’t wear all black at night” and hoped none of the trucks would hit me! It was the only way I could get some alone time (that was something I needed that day, and it’s hard to get when you are with people 24/7).

Wednesday night I was treated to a pub crawl by Dorota from the Warsaw H3. We started with dinner at a Balkan restaurant in Warsaw. What is Balkan food, you might ask? Well, what I ate could have been Egyptian food! I shared mezzes, kebab, kofta, and wine. The food was delicious and the restaurant itself had a lot of character. After that, we went to one bar, but the people we were supposed to meet had already left it (dinner went late). At the second bar, we found Jenna. Just as we got our beers, Jenna’s group was moving on to a disco, so we finished the drinks off quickly and joined them. They played 70x/80x music at the disco that night, which was perfect for me since it was all the songs I used to dance to in my youth. We shimmied until about 2 am, and then caught a taxi to Dorota’s. Unfortunately, I only got about three hours of sleep, because I had to get back to Minsk Maz. to teach on Thursday, which took almost two hours by buses and tram. But the lack of sleep was worth it, since I had fun and it kept my mind off things.

Thursday night was experiencing nightlife in Minsk Maz. We went to a bar for karaoke night. It was great! Fueled by Zubrowka and apple juice, we sang and danced our hearts out. Cheryl did a fine job on the power ballad “My Heart Will Go On” (watch out, Celine Dion!), Matt sang “I Want to Hold Your Hand”, Eliza, Cheryl, and I sang “It’s In His Kiss”, and we all killed “Yellow Submarine”, the Grease mix, “Sweet Caroline”, and “Pretty Fly For a White Guy”. On the last one, I was the only one able to sing the verses and follow the words. Not too sure that’s something to be proud of, but hey, I did lose my voice that night. It’s still not back 100%. I was hoarse all day Friday and Saturday. During karaoke, Matt discovered that by chatting with the guys hanging out around the bar, he could get drinks bought for him. So, I gave it a try and started talking to three fine young men. A drink was purchased for me, and I stayed and chatted for a bit. One of the aides, Agata, came up to me to tell me that one of the guys I was talking to (remember, I said they were fine young men) was in her year at school…so he was only 18 or 19. Made me feel like a huge cradle robber, but also grateful that I still don’t look my age. We stumbled back to the hotel around 1:30 am and slept a few hours before going for the last day of the program. Needless to say, that last day I was working on a combined total of seven hours sleep in two days.

And now, I am in Ireland, watching the rain fall, the cows and sheep grazing, and freezing my doupa off. Hopefully it’ll warm up a wee bit and the rains will cease. I’m looking forward to another great week before moving on to NYC, Atlanta, and Elmira.

Ten Things About Krakow

Yummy kielbasa...glasses are there for size comparison.

As I munch on a big piece of monk-crafted kielbasa and contemplate my next piwo z sok malinowy, I thought I would reflect on my favorite city in Poland (and incidentally my current location): Krakow.

I’ve been lucky enough to spend the last two days in Krakow, a city that I have visited numerous times during my trips to Poland (often more than once during the same trip…I tend to use it as a starting/ending point). I love the city and would move here in a heartbeat. It has charm, character, great people, great food, and great public transportation. Since I’ve done almost all the touristy stuff on previous visits, I spent this trip just wandering around the streets, people watching, and reacquainting myself with Polish cuisine and beverages. Oh, and finally going inside Wawel Castle. You’d think after all the times I’ve been here, that would have happened long ago.

I’ve decided to create top ten lists of what I like and don’t like about Krakow. Enjoy!

The church at Wawel Castle

What I like about Krakow…

1. A great Old Town square where you can sit all day and people watch. Just pick the spot with the comfiest chairs! As you sit, you can see the cloth hall, churches, and old buildings. No need to get up and tour things, just sit back with a beer and say you’ve seen the sights!

2. Cheap piwo…with sok malinowy! That’s raspberry syrup with beer, for those of you who don’t know. Zywiec is the beer of choice for me, though I will settle for Okocim or Tyskie if those are the only choices. Polish beer is light, which is why I will only drink it with the syrup. Best of all, it comes with a straw, and as you know, everything tastes better with a straw.

3. Tasty red wine that is not made in Egypt! I’ve been drinking a glass with dinner every night. Let’s hear it for importing wine! On my tour today, the guide said that Poland always had great relations with the Hungarians, because that’s where they got their wine. I prefer the South African and Australian myself.

4. Cars that stop for pedestrians in the crosswalk. Even without pedestrian crossing lights. Just step into a crosswalk, and the cars stop. Amazing!

5. The dragon’s den in Wawel Castle. I looked for the dragon, but he must have been hiding today! It was damp, cool, and dripping water. After you descend the spiral staircase, you emerge in a cave. Very cool!

6. Kasmierz, with it’s great galleries, restaurants, and bars. It’s really become trendy since I was here five years ago, but in a good way! I stayed here again this time, and I really enjoyed going out at night and people watching.

7. All the old buildings that have been renovated over the years. I wish someone would give me one to live in. Or at least a little flat in one. They’re colorful, have great molding, and usually include statues on them somewhere.

8. Hearing the bugler in St. Michael’s church play his reveille every hour. It’s fun trying to see him up in the window. The second he finishes, SLAM! goes the window.

9. Seeing nuns walking down the street in full-on, old-fashioned habits. Long dresses, long veils, and only their faces showing. Lots of different styles as well. Amazing that they aren’t an endangered species here. You even see young ones. I’m not religious at all, but it’s nice that the Poles still have faith.

10. Pierogies, pierogies, pierogies! I ate them just about every meal this trip. Go to Vincent’s pierogies (used to be a little hole in the wall in Kasmierz, but now they have a few other quaint little locations). Ruskie (potato and cheese) are the classic, but I liked the truskakowy (strawberry) this trip.

Things I don’t like about Krakow…

1. Pigeons all over the beautiful Old Town square, pooping, flocking, and getting in the way.

2. People who feed the pigeons, which encourages the pigeons to remain in the square and poop all over the place.

3. People who scare the pigeons, causing a mass exodus of pigeons flying right at you, pooping in fear.

4. Seeing pigeon poop all over the sidewalk near buildings, and worrying that the pigeons are going to hit you next.

5. The giant new shopping mall in front of the train station. As much as I love shopping, it just seems out of place there and totally detracts from the cool old station building. Of course, I did visit the H&M in the mall the first day…

6. That Krakow is now billed as the city with the most bars in Europe. Incidentally, this means drunken stag party guys all over the place, wearing matching shirts with numbers and nicknames on the back, make lots of noise, and are drinking too much beer. And lots of backpackers who are just coming now for the piwo and nightlife, missing all the great cultural offerings.

7. That you can’t bargain in the cloth hall any more. I remember back in ’93 when Gabe and I were getting 30% of the asking price on our purchases!

8. When the outdoor seating is full and I can’t get a table with a great view. Or, when the table’s umbrella doesn’t effectively block out the sun and it warms up your glass of something lovely.

9. That Polish food is basically carbs, carbs, carbs, and I gain weight just looking at it! I mean, dough stuffed with potatoes and then covered in melted butter, with bits of bacon on top?

10. Did I mention the damn pigeons?

I will say that Krakow is more fun when you come with friends. The last time I visited was with Joe, Eliza, and Stan. I don’t think I ever had as much fun people watching, drinking beer, and just hanging out as I did then.

Krakow was a great diversion, but now it’s time to return to Minsk Maz and be a do-gooder for two weeks, teaching young impressionable Polish kids English and all about American culture. Ironic, since I don’t live in America anymore and will be teaching them Japanese crafts like origami and shodo.

Postscript: I’m back in Warsaw waiting to meet one of the other volunteers to escort him safely to Minsk Maz. The rain hit last night, while I was out visiting some of the fine drinking establishments. Needless to say, I got soaked again. The rain seems to be here in Warsaw now as well. Fabulous, since I need to meet him outside and have my bags with me. I suppose I should just get used to being wet all the time this summer.

Cam, I should have listened to you when you told me to pack an umbrella. I blame the rain on you! Your mental powers are astounding!

And for those of you that actually read this to the end, feel free to make crude jokes about me munching on monks’ kielbasas. I did that opening line deliberately. What can I say, my mind is in a gutter.

Another Cairo First

Crossing streets in Cairo is a lot like the old arcade game Frogger. You move forward, step to the side, back up, work your way around another taxi, walk forward, stop suddenly, move right, hit a car, move left, push a car aside, and continue until you get to the other side. It’s like an art. I just walk the streets of Ma’adi, a tame suburb. You won’t see me dashing across 12 lanes of the speeding Ring Road or Autostrade anytime soon.

Well today, I was walking home from running some errands, when I decide to cross the street to the side with the sidewalk. I was near the back gate of my school, on a well-traveled street. It even had a garden median in the center.

Well, I cross the first bit without a problem. While waiting for oncoming traffic to work its way by or decide to turn around the rotary, I just stand at the median. An approaching car seems like it is veering towards me a bit too closely. I think, “Gee, that idiot seems to need to hug the curb for his U-turn.” I don’t move aside though, since it’s a clear shot once he passes.

Well, he slows a bit more, and the next thing you know, a hand is out the window, and the guy grabs a big handful of Carolyn. Yup, you got it--I got groped by some desperate idiot. He said something as well, which I couldn’t understand, because I was thinking, “WTF?!?” and smacking his hand away and then punching the back of his car. I mean, really, mister, are you that desperate for a feel? Look, I’m walking down the street, in a faded old t-shirt with baggy denim capris, flip-flops, and sweating in the 100 degree heat. I’m not looking my best to say the least.

I’ve traveled quite a bit in my life. I’ve had perverts expose themselves to me on four different continents in the course of my travels. This is my first time being felt up. I’m feeling a bit violated, but mostly just pissed that I didn’t hit his car a little harder.

A Year in Cairo

The year is ending as it began: hot. Temperatures reaching 40*C each day, though unlike August, this is the dry heat. You know when you are baking and you open the oven door and the heat just rushes out and oppresses you? That’s the heat now. I must have acclimated a bit, however, since I really don’t think it’s that bad. Memories of last August still are strong in my mind. We arrived to even hotter temperature, but with surprising humidity. I thought I was in a desert! Why was it so humid? Could the Nile really make that much of a difference? I thought I was escaping humidity when I left Japan. There, August and September were sheer misery. But no, Cairo apparently enjoys humidity as well. And for those of you from the southern United States, yes, it is bad here!

I moved to Cairo from Kobe, Japan, and I wanted to come to Cairo primarily for the school. I heard many wonderful things about it from Robin over the years, and I knew it was a quality learning institution and I would be challenged professionally if I worked here. The weather was another factor influencing my decision. I really think that I am done living in cold climates. The windy Rokko Island winters, with gusts blowing between the high rises and into our drafty apartments led me to wish for a warmer climate. Cost of living was another factor. I lived in Japan, for crying out loud! I gave up most fruits for five years because I really couldn’t justify spending $2 for one apple, albeit a perfect, unblemished, tasty one. A final factor was that Egypt was a Muslim country that wasn’t dry and was nowhere in Asia. No, I am not thinking of converting, but I did think that maybe that kept the expat guys from dating the locals. I was hoping for a social life here.

Well, Cairo is an interesting place to call home. It is chaotic, unorganized, dirty, smelly, and busy. But before I sound negative, it is a refreshing change from the orderliness and sterility of Japan. I like that I dodge cars to cross the street; I’d probably kick butt in Frogger today! I will admit to smiling when locals call “Welcome to Cairo”. It’s seedy, but hey, I’m a giant slut here apparently just because I’m a Westerner. I like that I have a fantastic cleaning lady twice a week, whose husband painted my entire flat. I like that I can paint my flat; five years of Japanese white wallpaper led me to select some vivid colors. I like that I can again afford produce. It may not be perfect, but for $2 I can get a few apples!

One of the things to get used to here in Cairo is the concept of baksheesh. Baksheesh is the tips you give people. You can get food delivered from any restaurant, call the corner market and place a grocery order over the phone, or have your dry cleaning delivered. Delivery guys get baksheesh. If you need something done, you baksheesh the guy behind the desk. Baksheesh works as tips, but also as bribes. I find that my generosity with delivery guys is increasing; after all, 5 pounds is less than a dollar, and if the guy just carried up two 19L water bottles, doesn’t he deserve that much?

Cairo traffic is a wonder to behold. Imagine giving people keys to cars, never teaching them any traffic rules or courtesies, showing some NASCAR videos, and then setting them off on the streets. That’s Cairo traffic. Cars change lanes, endlessly…wait, change lanes would give the impressions that they actually have lanes. Ok, cars basically just weave in and out and go wherever they want. Horns are constant. There is the “I’m behind you” beep, the “I am passing” beep, the “hello” beep, the “look out crazy person running across 50 m of speeding traffic” beep, and the “what the f* do you think you’re doing cutting me off” beep (this includes a hand gesture as well). I have seen injured pedestrians and horrid photos from multi-car pileups. I’ve ridden in cars here, but never driven. I think I’d like to drive here—my aggression as a driver would flourish.

Service is slow in Cairo. You need to be patient. At restaurants, it often takes forever to get your food, let alone a check. A few weeks ago, I contemplated a dine and dash with a friend when we asked three different servers for our check, then waited almost 45 minutes for it. They charge service in the bill, so I suppose there is no reason for them to please the customer. When you find a place with good service, you tend to visit again. You always hear “Insha’allah”, which means “God willing” when you ask if something will be done. Keep that attitude here. It will happen when it happens.

I would be happier if Egyptians learned to dispose of trash in containers instead of the streets, but they do have one of the best recycling systems in the world. All trash is collected and goes to Mokattem, or “Garbage City”, where everything is sorted, reused, or recycled. Food scraps go to animals, cloth scraps are made into fabric goods, metal is melted down.

Ramadan, the holy month of fasting, came in September. It was an interesting introduction to what life can be like in Cairo. Everything was closed in the afternoon so people could rest and have their Iftar (breaking of the fast). No alcohol was sold, which our booze shops constantly reminded us of in the days leading up to the start. It was hard to get through to any services you might need done (like Internet). Life was slower. I did try fasting one day, when my grade had an Iftar at school. You are not even supposed to drink water. It’s hard; I’m glad I don’t do it for a month!

One big negative that continues to annoy me is that I still do not have Internet in my flat. Apparently, I do not know who to baksheesh to get it fixed. I even had the guys from housing try to help me. My next plan is to pay someone to sort it all out for me. The previous tenant cancelled her service, but didn’t get a cancellation number. I ordered service from a different provider, but couldn’t get the service since her account was never cancelled (the company I went with neglected telling me this when I registered—they told three of my friends about existing lines, just not me). So, I paid $100 to my company, but can’t get internet until the other account has a number. We’ve called, gotten word that it’s cancelled, called back for a number, they never seem to have heard about the initial cancellation, try again, get frustrated, repeat. So, it’s worth paying some guy to sort it out for me. Worse case scenario is I’m out $100 from the company I paid and I just go with the prior account. This is Cairo service at its finest.

There were some travel highlights this year.

• I went to St. Catherine’s Monastery and climbed Mt. Sinai last September. It was a night climb, similar to my hike up Fuji-san in Japan, though here you had to avoid the camels carrying the lazier folks to the top. Imagine walking in the dark, you little headlamp illuminating enough of the path for you to see about three feet, when you hear snorting and breathing behind you and have a mad camel breathing down your neck. I got lost on the way up and found the camel parking lot, where the camels rested. A nice man directed me to the stairs and I did make it to the top. It was cold, but the sunrise was amazing. The views on the walk down were incredible, and the colors of the rocks just are not captured well in photos. The mountains were imposing, red, and beautiful. The only downside to that trip was that the monastery itself was closed, so we missed exploring the interior and seeing the relics (those of you from my Polish days, I know you understand my supreme excitement at seeing relics….).

• In March, and again in May, I went to Fayoum, which is famous for Whale Valley. Fossils of whales were found there that prove they once had legs and might possibly have lived on land. Now, in your mind, I am sure you are picturing a valley filled with whale bones that are enormous; rib cages, vertebrae, just piles of white bones bleached by the sun. Guess again. These whales were small. Like six feet long. The bones are artfully arranged as displays like an open air museum. There are some informative panels to read about whale evolution and the ocean that once existed there, but otherwise, it was a bit of a disappointment. One of the best pieces is the fossilized turtle, which, in actuality, looks like a rock. The first trip to Fayoum was a day trip with other teachers during our spring break; the second was with the hashers (explained later) for a weekend. The area also has natural and man-made lakes. It’s odd seeing a giant lake surrounded by desert.

• In April, I went to Bahariyya, an oasis in the Western desert. We were there to set an away hash, but my friends Regina, Cam, and I were the only three to go. Getting there was an adventure, since Cam’s car started acting up (the best part was that it beeped when you went over a certain speed). We did a day trip through the black and white deserts with a character of a guide. He told us that he was the head guide, and we were lucky to have him. But being a guide was not his only job. He was also a school administrator, a driver, and I think there were a few others, but I forgot them. Anyways, the black desert was neat; black rocks (I think Cam said they were basalt) were everywhere. In the white desert, there were formations made from wind. The funniest was the chicken. We also stopped at a little oasis, which our guide made us ask our friends if they saw (they hadn’t), thus proving his superior talents at guiding through the desert. We stayed at a hotel with a hoot of an owner, a German guy named Peter. His cheery disposition never changed, he wore local clothing, and he was definitely a kook.

• Locally in Cairo, I went to the pyramids several times, wandered around the Khan (market) several times, the Ma’adi Monastery and Holy Family church (where they stayed when they came to Egypt), the Mohammed Ali mosque (no, not the boxer) and the Citadel, and went to different wadis (dry riverbeds – basically, the desert). I feel like I went to other places, but I can’t for the life of me think of what they were.

• In October, I ventured to Tunisia with friends. We spent a few days at the beach and a few in Tunis. We saw the ruins at Carthage, climbed the hills in Sid Bou Said, and spent time in Hammamet relaxing on a beach. We went to Nabeul for pottery shopping, and poor Shannon dropped her bag of dishes when we arrived in Cairo. Tunisia was very Mediterranean. It didn’t feel like we were in Africa, but more like a Greek isle or the coast of Italy. The doors on the buildings were great; I have tons of photos of those. However, there were no women out, especially at night. At times, it seemed we were the only women sitting out on the street. Apparently, the Berber custom is to stay at home if you are female. Also, Tunisians are wonderful at driving in lanes and being courteous to other folks on the roads (except pedestrians – I don’t think they are liked anywhere in this part of the world).

I did have one long extended vacation this year that kept me from enjoying more of Egypt’s treasures: spinal fusion surgery in Atlanta, GA. I was gone for seven weeks from December to January. That wasn’t fun, but was needed. Many thanks to Terry and Ray for being such generous hosts during my recovery—they let me crash on their couch for seven weeks.

Socially, life in Cairo has been tons better than life in Kobe ever was. Most of my social world is centered on the Cairo Hash House Harriers, a “drinking club with a running problem”. Every Friday we go out hashing in the desert, where we walk or run, then drink and pick on people afterwards. We later go out to dinner (the on-on), and often will do on-on-ons or on-on-on-ons…some nights don’t end. The people are very friendly, and I like that I have friends who are not teachers. Nothing against my fellow educators, but we tend to talk shop when we are together. I like having discussions about other things. The hash is great for flirting, too…enough said there, but I’ve gotten lucky. I’ve joined the committee as the social chair and organize events. I’ve hared (set) 10 walks and 2 runs. You can read more about the group at www.cairohash.com.

I also joined the ACE (Association of Cairo Expats, I think is the acronym) club, which is across the street from my flat. It’s basically a bar, but has a garden, so I can sit outside with my dog. Drinks are cheap and real (some booze here will make you blind if you aren’t careful), food is decent, and I always know someone there. Only negative is that is does feel colonial; the staff are all African (Nigerians, I think) and most of the clientele are American or European.

One final social factor is the new man in my life. He’s a bit coppery-blond, cuter than anything, personality galore, cuddler and nuzzler, and doesn’t leave the toilet seat up…mostly because he pees outside. Howie is a pesky Pekingese (I think) that I adopted last October. He had some serious behavior issues at first, but has made tremendous progress since January (though we are still working on the biting and barking). He’s fun to own and good company.

In short (because I’m meeting friends for brunch in 15 minutes), the move to Cairo was the right thing to do. I’m happier than I’ve been in years. I like my job, I like my friends, I like my life. I have two weeks here before I leave for summer, during which I plan to relax and enjoy the city. Maybe I’ll try to see something I should have visited by now.

Anyone who wants to come visit is more than welcome.

One School Year Down

[I am moving some entries from my old blog to this one. This was from June 4, and I wrote it during my post-planning time.]

Ok, so today is the official last day of my first year here in Cairo. I wanted to write about what teaching was like this year; I'll get to life in Cairo next week when I am relaxing and have nothing else to do.

I just finished my 12th year teaching. That seems hard to believe. Can I be this old already?

As I am writing this, the lucky senior class is off at Obama's speech here in Cairo. Lucky them!

Cairo American College is an international school located in Ma'adi, one of the suburbs of Cairo. Originally created by US expats in the 1940's, it follows an American curriculum and has classes from Pre-K to 12. There are separate elementary, middle, and high school divisions. There are about 1400 students, 150 teachers, and numerous support staff. About half of the students are US citizens (this is loosely defined, since several were born there but never actually lived there). Due to the school divisions, I really did not meet many middle and high school teachers this year except for those who were "newbies" with me, lived in the luxurious Kimo high-rise (hear the sarcasm here, please), or were on committees with me. If you want to know more about the school, you can visit www.cacegypt.org and read about it there.

This year, I returned to first grade after four years in upper elementary. The transition was easy thanks to the great first grade program that was already in place. I had materials for lessons in every subject area, a teacher resource center with additional books, great colleagues who were able to answer all my stupid questions, and supportive administrators. I overplanned for the first day and ended up taking three days to do everything I thought would be done in a day. First graders work much more slowly than fifth graders!

I had a dream schedule. I had 40 minutes for lunch, a 20 minute morning recess break, and specials every day. We had music twice a week, Arabic three times a week, PE twice a week, library once a week, tech lab once a week, and Egyptian culture once a week, all of which were 40 minute periods. Art was once a week for 80 minutes. In addition, we had Zaki. Zaki is a god that I worship. He does all our copies, laminating, bookbinding...it's magical and wonderful! And I had Hebba and Sarah, two fantastic aides, for four half-days a week. I didn't know what to do with them at first because I was so used to teaching without help.

The biggest difference between fifth graders and first graders is the amount of times you have to repeat instructions. Even on the last day of school, I had to remind a few kids about how we sit during Morning Meeting. I repeat all instructions at least five times, then take questions, then find myself repeating them again. It was a bit frustrating at times, but eventually I just got used to it.

Another thing that hit me early in the year was how tired I was! I was falling asleep by 8 pm every night for about the first month of school. In fifth grade, I did not have to circulate and be as animated as I do with the little ones. I was constantly walking around the room, monitoring work, redirecting behavior and attention, and answering questions. Always there were questions. 16 kids asking 16 different questions at once sometimes. I remarked to the parents at Back to School Night that their kids were wearing me out!

But the kids were great! I had some interesting personalities: outgoing, shy by choice, energetic, opinionated, overachieving (yes, that is possible at 6 years of age), arrogant, self-centered, coddled, and friendly. The kids were quite a mix of nationalities: Colombian, Korean, Chinese/Australian, Australian, American, Egyptian, Moroccan, Danish, and Canadian (but actually Chinese/Algerian). I worked at getting them to be independent (one mother told me the first day of school that her daughter was unable to wipe her bottom; I remarked that wasn't my job to do for first graders). I wanted them to make their own choices (preferable the right ones), tie their own shoes, find their own pencils, answer their own questions; in short, not to be quite so reliable on me for everything!

Some kids flourished; other needed support. However, all my students made progress this year (and I have tons of paperwork to back that statement up!). Most are ready for second grade. A few will hopefully mature a little more this summer. Several cried at the end of the day yesterday. I had tears in my eyes, but wasn't really crying.

I had a few challenges that were student-related, but I won't trouble people with those stories so I can protect the not-so-innocent. However, suffice it to say I was friendly with the counselor this year.

Outside of my classroom, I coached MS boy's volleyball. That was an experience with its shares of ups and downs. I was on the Teacher Appraisal committee and the Strategic Plan Review committee. I joined the ES Language Arts committee as well.

I am looking forward to returning to teach here next year. I have been accepted to a training program for literacy coaches organized by NESA (our school association) that will keep me busy next year. I am looking forward to working with my great team again and having a new batch of little lovies.

In all, I made the right choice coming to CAC. I'm happy teaching here, and I'm happy thinking about teaching here a few more years.