Days 55 & 56: Getting it Out of the Way

So, the title says it all. I'm mostly posting this to get it out of the way. I never knew Egypt could be boring, but when I'm taking it easy, it sort of is.

I barely left my room all weekend, because while I'm feeling much better, I didn't want to over do it and relapse. That means all I did was lay in bed, do homework, and watch True Blood.

Tonight I wrote and recorded my final presentation for Formal Arabic. Tomorrow I plan to go out with Habiba. That's really it. In detail.

But at least now I won't have to bore you with the beginning of my next post that would have said "nothing happened for two days."

Day 54: Tra La La

Today doesn't really feel like today anymore, but I'm going to write about it anyway.

Classes today were somewhat better than yesterday. I was more focused, if in more pain. Laying on the wounds made them feel better, like it was holding things in place, so I thought that wearing normal pants might do the same thing. And I was wrong. And it hurt. But I lived.

It was my first day back in Egyptian, and everyone was very welcoming. I missed the trip to the monastery last weekend, thanks to the surgery, so Ustaaz Immad had bought me a souvenir fan at the gift shop. I love that man. He's just too thoughtful for words.

In Formal we just read and discussed the essay I stayed up writing all of last night. It was worth it though, because the guy who read mine spent the first bit of his presentation about it raving about how it sounded like it was written by an Arab. That was my goal, of course, but it's nice to know I might have achieved it.

After class, we had pizza for lunch. I love pizza day. It's a bit of a celebration around here, and not only because it's on Thursdays. Egyptian pizza isn't like American pizza, but it's the same general idea. Cheese on bread. They just add a lot more. Olives and onions and spices and the like come standard. It's delicious, even if there isn't really any sauce.

And then I went to bed. Because I was exhausted. And slept. But not as long as I wanted to. At eight o'clock or so, some girls decided to start being obnoxiously loud in the hallway. It woke me up, and kept me up, and was just late enough that I didn't even make it to dinner. I was peeved. And now I'm tired again, but not quite tired enough to sleep over my stomach. And I feel like I should be doing homework. Oh well.

I caught Habiba a little while ago and we might watch a movie in a bit. I have a couple good ones with decent sound saved to my computer. It's gonna be a slow night, but at least I have to entire weekend to rest up. And work on projects and study for finals, but I'm trying to not remember that right now.

Oh, and for those who were worried, I think my intestines are almost back to normal. I won't go into details, but it was touch and go there for a while and now everything's back up and running properly. So, there's some good news.

Day 53: Bah, Schoolwork

So, I made it to classes today. Yay for me. Not yay for my stomach.

I got up really late yesterday, took a nap until midnight, and then did my homework from midnight until six o'clock this morning. At that point, I showered and got ready for my day and so on and so forth.

I wasn't really having problems until I, trying to make this a mostly regular day, took the stairs down to breakfast. One, I was going down, two, it was only for flights, and yet I still got there feeling nauseous. But I ate anyway. And it stayed down, it just wasn't pleasant.

A half hour and eight hundred milligrams of ibuprofen later I was making my slow and steady way to the University. I gave myself a little extra time, and I took it slow, but there's no elevator in the TAFL Center, and the dar is on the third floor. I don't know why stairs suck so much right now, but I was miserable by the time I got there.

Still, I muddled through.

Classes weren't to bad. I couldn't really focus, but I finally performed my skit for media class that's been due for a week, and we had a lecturer about what makes Egypt an Islamic Nation even though there's a freedom of religion clause in the constitution. What I caught was interesting, but I kept zoning out because of either the pain or the pain pills. Ugh.

I skipped lunch to get all my insurance papers together. By that point I wasn't the least bit hungry. Besides, after lunch was the weekly Flagship meeting at the dar and I really didn't fancy a trip back and forth from the dorms. I managed to scan in all of my forms and receipts and E-mail them to a representative of my insurance company. Hopefully he or she will get back to me soon about whether they need anything else from me so I can submit the official claim. The surgery ate up pretty much all of my alloted summer spending money.

Nothing interesting happened at the weekly meeting. There's going to be an end of summer going away party. There are some trips going on this weekend. Etc. etc. I would have liked to participate in some of the trips, but I really don't think I'm up to it. I'm already skipping a visit to Silsila this evening because if I leave the dorm again I'm going to die. Not really. I'm being over-dramatic. But you get the picture.

I took a cat nap after the meeting, went to dinner, came back to my room... and now it's mostly homework. Woohoo. Yet again, I can't seem to get myself motivated, but I have a major essay due tomorrow as well as a bunch of make up work I haven't completed. Bah. Hence the title.

I'm going to go get to that now. Hopefully I get some halfway decent sleep tonight because after today I need it. And that catnap was not enough. I even looked miserable enough that Robyn tried to convince me to go home early. But at that point I only had an hour of class left, so I didn't really see the point. In sha' Allah tomorrow will be better.

Days 49, 50, 51 & 52: Surgery

So... for being gone four days I don't really have that much to write.

I'm fine, first of all. I know some of you were waiting pretty anxiously for that update.

Saturday morning I went into the hospital with Robyn, Habiba, and Eman. The Doctor wasn't there yet, but I had blood work that had to get done. So I did that. I've get a pretty dark bruise from being stuck in the arm twice in such a short span, but I'll live.

The doctor showed up sometime around 8:30, said we'd only have to wait another quarter of an hour, but as Habiba pointed out that could mean anything. Around 9:15 a nurse came to get us and take us to the nicest hospital room I've ever seen in my life. It was nicer than most of the hotel rooms I've stayed in an Egypt.

The sign on the door said "Presidential Suite," and it had a living room in addition to the usual bedroom and bathroom. Both main rooms were furnished with a television and plush couches and armchairs, as well as a refrigerator in the bedroom. It was a corner room, so there were wide windows with a spectacular view on two walls of the bedroom, and the drapes and stone walls were done in calming blues and grays instead of the sterile white I'm so used to seeing.

We took some pictures together in the room, but there wasn't much time before a nurse came to give me my surgery clothes. I got dressed and headed down to the operating room. The anesthesiologist was the first to greet me. I liked him just as much as I liked the specialist I met. He claimed he thought I was Egyptian when I first started speaking, but I'm skeptical. He might have just been being nice.

Either way, we chatted while he put in my IV for the anesthesia and then let me lay back and relax for a few minutes while the other doctors started setting up other things. When it was finally time for the anesthesia, he didn't ask me to count back from a hundred, but instead to recall what monuments I'd seen in Alexandria so far. I got as far as Abu Abbas Mosque before I could feel myself going out cold.

A few hours later I came to in the elevator, but I was only semi-conscious of them rolling me into my room and transferring me to my bed. I only barely managed to make a phone call to mom to say I was alright before passing out again. I don't know how long I slept. There was a lot of dosing in and out. I could hear Habiba watching movies on my laptop in the living room every now and then.

Sometime that evening I woke up a little more alert. There were a lot of doctors and nurses coming in and out, checking up. Eventually Robyn left to attend to some other business. Habiba and Eman only stayed a little longer, and then I was left alone.

It was hard to sleep. I was tired, but in a good deal of pain too. I have issues sleeping on my back, but my side where all the surgery had been done was out of the question. I got some sleep, eventually, but it didn't help that there was still a steady flow of nurses and house keeping coming in to sweep, or bring me jello and custard and rice pudding. I wasn't hungry, not at all, When I asked for it they brought me tea too though, which was nice. I hadn't drank anything in a day and my mouth felt like the Sahara.

The next day two or three doctors came to check on my and declared me okay for release. I managed to struggle out of bed and into my street clothes before Robyn helped me downstairs and into a taxi. The taxi was unpleasant. I could feel the new space in my stomach with every bump in the road, and there are a lot. When we got to the dorm, I had to climb a flight of stairs before we made it to the elevator, and that was a little trying, but make it I did.

When I got to my room, Robyn ordered me a light lunch of bread and cheese and fruit from the kitchen. They brought it up to me, I ate, all the girls in the dorm made sure I was okay, and then I slept. All day. Even though my bed isn't very comfortable. It was glorious.

Since then, I've mostly been napping, doing a little homework, and watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Everyone keeps asking after me though, and stopping by my room to check up. I haven't made it to class yet. I wake up every morning and feel like the walk to campus is taunting me. Yesterday I finally started taking the elevator down to meals again instead of them bringing food up, but my wounds always hurt more afterward.

I took a shower yesterday, which meant redressing my wounds. Most of them aren't too bad. They went in through my belly button, which I can't see far enough into to judge. Then there's one I didn't even put plaster on a second time because it mostly just looks like a healing cut. One directly above my belly button is all puckered and ugly looking, but it seems to be healing fine. The only one that really bothers me is on my right side.

They had a bile bag hanging out of it for my time in the hospital, and it's the only wound that continues to bleed and ooze a bit. When I redressed it it's just a gaping hole. Not like they slice me open, but like they drilled into me. I'm not exactly sure how that's supposed to heal. I imagine it will take a while. But it's definitely the cause of most of my superficial pain. Internal pain is another story, but... I'm managing. It's not that bad.

I'm really hoping to get back to classes tomorrow. I feel like I've missed far too many, but I have a long night of homework ahead of me if I want to accomplish that. Everyone's telling me to take it easy, and I'm trying, but I'm here to learn, not to sit in my bed and watch television.

Anyway, I'll be fine. I'm already feeling a lot better than I was a few days ago. It's just a matter of when better turns to good. I love you all!

~~~~~

The Same Story in Egyptian Arabic:

طبعا ما كنتش موجودة في الرحلة إلى الدير في نهاية الأسبوع إللي قاتت لكن كان عندي سبب كوايس، يعني كنت في المستشفى عشان عملية المرارة ومع أن العملية كانت كوايسة بدون مشكلة لسه بأحس بإني ما عنديش بطن بس إن شاء الله هيسيبني الوجع بسرعة.

وصلت إلى مستشفى السلامة الساعة تمانية بالصبح في يوم السبت وبدأت فورا تحليل الدم. ما جاء الدكتور لسه فبعدين كان لازم أستنى له لكني ما كنتش بالملل عسان كان عندي أصحاب معي. بالإضافة إلى روبن كانوا بنتين من المدينة الجامعية عايزين يروحوا معي، اسمهم إمان وحبيبة. إمان هي في كلية الطب وجاءت معي إلى مواعيدي الماضية وحبيبة هي مشاركتي اللغوية والإتنين صاحبتين كوايسين جدا. كانت بنت تاني من دوري في المدينة، اسمها زينب، عايزة تجيء معنا كمان لكنها رجعت إلى بيت العائلة في العطلة وما كانتش موجودة لما سبنا المدينة.

أخيرا جائت ممرضة لتجيبنا إلى أوضتي وبجد كانت أحسن أوضة مستشفى شوفتها في حياتي يعني اسمها كانت الجناح الرئيسي وكان موجود فيها أوضة المعيشة مع مقاعد مريحة قوي وفي أوضة النوم كان عندي دولاب وتلاجة وشبابيك واسعة فيها منظر جميل قوي وكان عندي منيو لأطلب أي أكل كنت عايزته. حسيت بأني أميرة لفترة لكني تذكرت بعدين عن العملية.

يدأت العملية تقريبا الساعة عشرة ونص وكان عندي دكاترة وممرضين كتيرين يركزوا على حاجات مختلفة. نمت طوال كل العملية وقمت بعدين وكنت بردانة قوي وبالوجع الشديد لكن كنت عارفة إنو كدا كان عادي فاتصلت يأمي وحاولت أنام. نمت شوية بس مش كوايس وما كانش مفيد إني كنت لازم أقوم كل ساعة عشان الحمام. أخيرا بعد سابوا روبن والبنتين بالليل نمت شوية أكثر بس لسه كانوا ممرضين بيجيئوا وبيروحوا مع أدوية وأكل وكدا فقمت كتير وفي الضبح لسة كنت تعبانة قوي.

عاسن أكلت بدون الترجيع بالليل قال الدكتور إني ممكن أرجع إلى المدينة بس لازم أستريح فجاءت روبن وركبنا تاكسي إلى المدينة الجامعية فين طلعت إلى أوضتي واتغديت شوية عيش وفكهة ونمت كل اليوم. دلوقتي لسه صعب إني أحرك كتير بس إن شاء الله هأرجع إلى الصفوف بعد بكرة.

Day 48: Baited Breath

Okay, so the title's a lot more dramatic than the day really was. Mostly I slept, and did a little homework, and watched the second half of A Very Potter Sequel because let's face it, I have very little will power when it comes to restraining myself.

I woke up late, but I was still tired. Just as I was about to take a nap though, Habiba knocked on my door asking if I wanted to watch a movie. I'd had to cancel on her the other day because I was dying. Well... not so much cancel as curl up in a ball of misery and have her take that as a rain check. Either way, I said sure.

She brought down some files to choose from and the two of us climbed on my bed along with Kamelya and Doua' from across the hall and watched "Omar and Selma" on my computer. It was a boot legged version recorded on a video camera in a cinema, so the sound was terrible and Kamelya and I couldn't understand a word. Even Doua', who's Egyptian, didn't get half of it.

Luckily, Habiba had seen it before, and while she'd explain between scenes, that's not really the best way to watch a movie. Doua' was the first to go to sleep, and Kamelya followed not long after. About half an hour from the end of the movie Habiba could tell I was exhausted, so she volunteered to finish it another time. By finish it another time, I actually think she means just watch another one with better sound, but I don't mind. It wasn't that great of a movie.

The story was about a husband who still flirts with other women, and his wife who's angry about it. It's kind of slapstick. What few details I have aren't really worth writing out. Their two daughters were cute though.

Once we'd decided I was going to bed, Habiba told me that she wanted to go to the hospital with me. Apparently Zeinab is visiting family or something. But she wasn't in the dorms last night, and Habiba doesn't want me to be alone. On that same note, she offered to stay the night in my room. I was perfectly fine on my own, but she was being so kind that I couldn't say no. So she slept in Hadir's bed while I napped for an hour before my shower.

Anyway, now it's technically the next morning, and I'm about to go brush my teeth before waking up Habiba and heading to the hospital. Wish me luck!

Day 47: Romansy on the Waves

So, today was a pretty fantastic day. In fact, it almost made up for my gallstone attack.

The day started out like any other, going to class and in the like. It was nice to be back, and all the professors were very kind and understanding. Ustaaz Nour returned my exam grade from last week, which was significantly higher than the previous exam grad, al-hamdu lillah. Ustaaza Nahla gave me an extension on the skit I missed because I was in the hospital. And Ustaaz Immad offered to personally take me to the monastery I won't be able to visit this weekend on account of my surgery.

After little classes I was a little apprehensive about returning to the dorms because I wasn't sure if Hadir was going to be there or not. I realized last night after posting that I left out two bits of very important news, as caught up in my health as I was, but I was too tired to go back and edit.

The first piece of news, before I get back to my story, is that Chelsea is leaving the UT Flagship. I know that doesn't mean anything to a lot of you, but for those of you who've heard me talk about Chelsea you know how much I love her. She's been the Assistant Director of the University of Texas Flagship (my Arabic program) for my entire time at UT, and we're all sad to see her go. Alas, Ustaaz Mahmoud E-mailed us the day I got so sick letting us know that she got a better job at the University of Maryland Flagship and that her last day will be August 16th. I don't know what that means for our Flagship, but at least I'll still see her on August 15th on move-in day at the Arabic House.

The second piece of news brings my back to my story. When Robyn brought me back to the dorms from the hospital Tuesday night, I had to sign in at the front office before I could go up to my room. If you don't sign in when you come in for the night they'll knock on your door at an ungodly hour, and I just wanted to sleep. The women working in the dorms were worried for me though. Word had gotten around that I was sick and they all had to ask after my health.

The questioning took a while, especially considering I was still groggy from my meds, and eventually Robyn came into the office to check on me. She told of the women for keeping me from my bed, which was a little harsh, but appreciated. Before we could head up though, they asked me where Hadir was, as they usually do. And as I usually reply, I told them I didn't know.

'Is she still traveling?' they asked. And that got a weird look from Robyn, who proceeded to ask me how long Hadir hadn't been in the dorms. So I told her the truth.

Apparently, the girls here aren't allowed to leave for an extended period of time. Sure, a weekend here or there isn't a problem, but Flagship pays their room and board to give us more experience speaking Arabic. Therefore, them taking an extended leave of absence is basically them not doing their job. I've been getting plenty of experience with the other girls in the dorm, but Robyn was still livid.

Yesterday, I got a phone call from Hadir, telling me she'd be by the room today. I didn't understand why she was calling to give me a heads up at first, but apparently Robyn called and fired her. I feel terrible for getting her fired, but part of me wonders if it's for the best. She did say when she stopped by that one day for dinner that she'd wanted to leave the program but came back for my sake, even if she still hasn't spent the night in the room once in the last three weeks.

So that brings me back to where I was, not sure if I wanted to Hadir to be in the room packing or not. I want to say goodbye, of course, but I feel like sitting in the room doing my homework or something while she packs would be awkward. Either way, she wasn't there, and even if she had been, it wouldn't have mattered because I didn't stay in the dorms long anyway.

The same night I got the E-mail about Chelsea, I got an E-mail from Anita Housen, a UT graduate student and the future Events Coordinator of the Arabic House. She's been living in Cairo for the past year, was coming up yesterday to visit our program in Alexandria, and wanted to meet some of her future roommates. I told her I'd still be recovering yesterday, and I was, but that if I felt better today I'd give her a call.

I was tired after lunch, so I planned to call her after a nap, but she beat me to it. She was in the dar and wanted to know if I was busy. Tired isn't exactly busy, and I was excited to meet her, so I trekked back over there to shake hands and make small talk. At the same time, I met Anita's friend Paulette who doesn't speak Arabic, but is visiting Anita for her last month in Egypt. They're going to Siwa tomorrow or the next day.

Both girls are a lot of fun. We didn't get into any in depth conversations in the dar though, we were mostly making plans for later that night. There was a free concert scheduled for eight o'clock at the citadel starring a famous performer who specializes in Eastern jazz. It sounded great, and I said I'd consider meeting them there later. Honestly, I was already tired, and I have mountains of homework to finish, hopefully before my surgery. Still, the thought of bonding time was nice, so I didn't rule it out.

At some point, conversation died down, we were all doing different things, and I ended up falling asleep on the couch in the dar. It's a million times more comfortable than my bed in the dorms and I couldn't resist. Mama Karima woke me up at seven-thirty about half an hour before the dar was going to close, got me some water to wash my face, and sent me off to dinner, which ends at the dorms at eight. I made it there with about five minutes to spare, but five minutes was all I needed for the light dinner of tomatoes, cucumbers, honeydew, and bread.

Charlie, another one of the Arabic House residents, was also still at dinner and asked about my plans for the night. She wanted to go to the concert, but didn't want to go alone. I said I'd go with her, and though I didn't mind in the least, she assured me we didn't have to stay for long. Then again, neither of us knew what the night had in store for us.

We met up with Anita, her friend, and two Egyptians outside the citadel about half past eight. They'd tried to get into the concert but decided the over crowding wasn't worth it. Still, there's a lot to do around the citadel, so we decided to hang out for a while.

Paulette is an artist, and it just so happened that there were boards set up for a public anti-smoking mural where people can paint whatever they want to discourage smoking. We stood around eating cotton candy, watching her paint, until we started getting swarmed by a bunch of begging children. The Egyptians decided to leave, and that left four of us, without a plan.

I learned quickly, however, that if ever we don't have a plan, Anita will find one. She started asking around for a man named Muhammad Romansy, like romance-y, so you'll understand my initial confusion. When I asked who he was, her reply in Arabic was "the most beautiful man in Alexandria." It wasn't until I met him that I really understood what she meant.

Muhammad Romansy is a boat rower in the ocean around the citadel. Anita met him a few years back when she was in Alexandria, I think with Flagship, and has returned to see him every year since, so they're good friends. While he was very nice though, she didn't mean that just his personality was beautiful.

While Romansy was born and raised in Alexandria, is 100% Egyptian, grew up on the citadel, and has been rowing boats since childhood, you couldn't tell it just by looking at him. He's tall, and thin, and has the muscles and callouses of an Egyptian boatman, but he's also blonde, with green eyes and pale skin. All the most beautiful features according to Egyptian culture, mostly because they're so rare her. I'm not gonna lie, it was kind of weird at first hearing his accent-less Arabic for a while, but meeting his one was of my best experiences in Egypt so far.

Romansy is from a different class of people than we usually get to interact with. He dropped out of school to row tourists around full time, but he wants more than anything to get a work visa and work outside Egypt. At age twenty-three he's married, with a daughter, and they live in a three room apartment: salon, bedroom, combination kitchen / bathroom with a squat toilet.

When Anita finally found someone who knew him, she replaced the old phone number she had for him with the new and gave him a call. As it turns out, he was at the concert, but came out to see us. After a short reunion, he insisted on taking us out on the waves. Anita assured us he was the best rower she'd ever seen, had never flipped a boat, and vowed to quit rowing the first time he ever does. That was enough for me.

We had to wait a half hour or so to take the boat out because there were police around, and apparently it's illegal to take tourists out in a boat at night. Once the police had left though we filed onto a rickety old row boat and headed out towards the waves. We didn't get into the choppiest parts, sticking instead to the relatively calm seclusion of inlet next to the citadel, but there were still exciting parts: when a large wave came, or when we all had to shuffle around the tiny space without falling out because Paulette or Charlie wanted to try rowing. It was a beautiful experience, though someone did throw a rock at us at one point. It hit Charlie on the back, but she said it didn't hurt badly.

When we got back to shore, there was a tiny disagreement over money. Romansy's boat had already been dragged out of the water for the night, so he'd agreed before going out to pay another boater ten pounds to use his boat. After the ride, however, the other boater wanted to twenty. We gave Romansy twenty, even though he was able to renegotiate it to ten, and had him keep the second half. Then we bought ice cream and rice pudding for his family (who were still at the concert) and walked with him back to his home for tea.

As I mentioned, Romansy is from a different class than we're used to, among the poorest Egyptians. He took us through some back alleys and then up a flight of stairs so dark we had to use a lighter to see, and then into that three room apartment I mentioned.

We sat in the salon for a while, waiting for his wife and daughter to come home. I love the Egyptian tradition of salons, mostly because I love just sitting and chatting with Egyptians. They all seem to have such energy and hospitality. Romansy found us some music to listen to on the television in the corner and we looked through stacks of old photos with him: wedding photos, photos of his daughter, photos of him with tourists.

Eventually, his wife and daughter, Ibtasar and Aya, made it home. After getting changed out of street clothes they came and sat with us for a while too. Well, Ibtasar came and sat with us, because Aya's only one and a half and mostly wandered around the room from person to person, dancing and making faces.

At one point, Ibtasar gave us an Eastern dance lesson, seeing as she could do it and none of us could. I don't know that that changed by the end of the night, but we had fun anyway. Romansy's daughter was by far one of the more adorable children I've seen in Egypt, especially covered in rice pudding as she was later in the night. She still breast feeds and her mother decided this would be a perfect time for us to all try to teach her to eat like a big girl together. It was entertaining, if not successful.

On a side note, even if Ibtasar wasn't spoon feeding Aya, she was spoon feeding the rest of us while we drank tea. It was a little odd for us, but as per culture in Egypt, she was doing whatever she could to make us eat. And there're only so many times you can refuse before it gets rude.

While I don't doubt the goodness of Romansy or his wife, cultural differences did begin to creep up in different parts of conversations in the night. It was almost nice seeing them, because while I know they exist, the more educated classes who know about American culture tend to try to hide them. They know Americans tend to be disturbed by certain topics. I have to specific examples.

On the boat out on the ocean, Paulette made a comment about how rowing for just five minutes had strengthened her arm muscles ten fold. Anita, Charlie and I were taking turns translating, and when we told Romansy what Paulette had said he got this sort of offended look on his face.

Women shouldn't be strong, he said. God made men the strong ones so that they can put women in their place. If a woman were to become stronger than her husband, she might start hitting him, and then there would be an imbalance of power. None of us really knew what to say to that. It's not something you'd hear on a boar in America at any rate. But we just shifted the subject a bit and continued our conversation.

Later, when Ibtasar was telling us about how much she loves to dance, she told us a story that would have been equally inappropriate anywhere else, or even in some other classes. Romansy's brother got married a few months back and Ibtasar danced at the wedding. While she was with mostly women, there was one man in the room, and when her and Romansy got home he hit her hard across the face for dancing for another man when he was her husband. And yet she told the story smiling and laughing the whole time, like it was a good joke.

Despite the differences, they were lovely people, and I was lucky to have met them in my travels.

Around midnight Charlie and I realized we should probably be heading back to the dorms, so we took a taxi to Anita and Paulette's hotel. It wasn't too far from the dorms, but still far enough that we didn't want to walk, so we headed for the tram station. We never did make it to the tram though. Instead, we ran in to another group of Flagship students on a street corner. They'd been to Mermaid for the night and were trying to decide what to do next. We hung out with them for a while, though the decision making mostly turned in to us standing around talking on that street corner for who knows how long.

Sameh, one of the Egyptians from the boys' dorms, had somehow ended up with his professor tagging along, and though I didn't know it at the time, apparently said professor was very drunk. Which is very inappropriate in Egypt. He'd been searching for a prostitute, and making inappropriate remarks about women, and Sameh was trying to come up with a plan to ditch him before he really offended someone. Most of us are easy going, but we weren't about to argue with convincing the professor to go home.

The plan became that we would say we were tired, head back towards the girls' dorms, and then make new plans once the professor had gone. But once the professor left, we mostly degenerated into standing around talking again. It was getting late at this point, and because the professor didn't live far from the University, we weren't far from the dorms. We kind of decided without deciding that we wanted to head back.

The girls made it back at about two-thirty. The front doors to the dorms were locked, but there was a police officer out front who knew who to call for a key. We got inside, headed upstairs, and I started downloading A Very Potter Sequel and working on answering me E-mail. I know I don't have time to watch AVPS, and I'm considering saving it for after my surgery, but I doubt my excitement will let me wait that long.

Anyway, I don't know if I effectively conveyed how much fun I had tonight, but it was a lot. I love Egyptians. And since meeting Anita I'm even more excited about living in the Arabic House. It's going to be a good year, but I'm still going to miss Egypt.

Days 45 & 46: The Hospital of Safety

So... I don't think I could have gotten a decent post out yesterday if my life depended on it. I'm sure those of you who already know the story have already forgiven me, but for those of you who don't... just wait. I'm going to start at the beginning though, so it may take a while fore me to get going.

Yesterday morning I woke up, as usual, but couldn't for the life of my get out of bed, despite it being a later day. I skipped breakfast and pressed my snooze button until I only had half an hour to shower and get ready. I did it, but it was cutting it close.

In the dar, it turned out I had no need to rush. Ustaaz Immad had gotten us an appointment at the orphanage that I later found out he used to volunteer at. That little tidbit of information actually explains a lot about him. He's the kind of guy you'd expect to be volunteering with orphans in his spare time. He's just that kind hearted.

Anyway, we had to wait for everyone from class to gather, and a few people had business to take care of before we left, so we ended up sitting around idly for a bit. And in this idle sitting, I started to not feel so well. One of the girls in our class had gotten sick the day before, so I was a little worried I had what she had, but I was really excited about going to the orphanage, so I sucked it up. In hindsight, not my best choice.

The bus was chosen as our optimal choice of transportation, seeing as there were seven of us. The problem with buses is they're lurchy. I swore I was going to throw up at least twice, but somehow, mind over matter or something, I managed to keep it down. An Alexandria city bus is not somewhere you want to get sick.

But eventually we made it to the orphanage where we met the sweetest woman who was in charge. We sat in her office with her for a while, my stomach in knots, as she told us about the orphanage.

Egyptian orphanages are a little different than American ones, mostly because Egyptian families are so large and close knit. Egyptians tend to grow up with all of their aunts and uncles like second parents, so if a parent dies, there's almost always another family member to take them in. As such, the orphanage is full of children who, rather than not having parents, usually have parents who can't afford to take care of them.

The other reason children might be in an orphanage has to do with religion. By Egyptian law, children inherit the religion of their fathers. Normally, this isn't an issue, because Muslims tend to marry Muslims and Christians tend to marry Christians. However, in the case of a Christian and a Muslim having a baby, if that Christian and Muslim ever split, the child is bound to the father and not the mother. As you can imagine, if the father decides to move away for work or something, as is within his right, that doesn't make the mother very happy.

The solution is often that they put the child in an orphanage of the necessary religion so that the mother can still see her child. The orphanage we visited was Christian, and the director told us that they tend to integrate religion into all facets of life. So it's a big deal.

The orphanage itself was quite nice. They have a large yard to play in and a gym and communal computers. There are forty-seven boys living there at the moment, from first grade up through university. The younger ones were at the beach for the day with some volunteers, but we got to meet some of the older ones. They were all very kind and polite, even inviting the boys in our class to come back and play soccer sometime.

It was a nice visit, or would have been, if my body wasn't inclined to hate me.

All through the directors talk in her office I couldn't concentrate. I wanted to hear what she had to say, but all of my attention was focused on my stomach. About half way through the meeting, I thought I'd found a godsend. One of the other women working there bought in a tray of sodas for us, including sprite zero. And sprite always makes upset tummies feel better, right?

Nope, not right at all.

I thought it might have been just because it was zero, and not regular, even though I realize that's ridiculous now. When you're panicking over keeping down phantom stomach contents (because remember I hadn't eaten that day) you're not exactly thinking straight. At one point, while another student was asking a question, I actually got up and headed for the door. I didn't want to throw up in the lovely woman's office. I made it to the lobby before I realized I didn't know where I was going, but by then I was able to keep it down.

The director had followed me, so I asked for a bathroom, hoping I could throw up in private, feel better, and continue with the visit. No such luck. For some reason, in the tiny bathroom, I couldn't get anything up. So I washed my hands and went back to the meeting.

The tour after that was torture. There's no air conditioning in the orphanage, so I was hot as anything, sweaty, sticky, and of course none of that helps with an upset stomach. As they started to lead us to the gym, I had that sudden uncontrollable urge again, but was thankfully able to make it to a toilet, where I threw up more than I knew I could possible have in my stomach.

I was miserable, but the women were incredibly kind to me. They got me a bottle of water and helped me wash up. We left not long after that, and I was feeling a bit better, even though my stomach still hurt. My plan was to finish up classes for the day and then go take an anti-bacterial for my digestive track. Unfortunately I didn't get that far.

We were running a little late getting back from class because the orphanage was a little ways away, so the half of us that had afternoon classes decided we didn't have time for lunch and just went to the dar twenty minutes early. I didn't realize one person could get so much sicker in twenty minutes.

I nearly threw up twice, which would have been horrible, because the water was cut off in the building for that day. Meaning no toilets. Eventually I just gave up. Missing one Fusha class wasn't going to kill me, even if we were going over the new vocab that day. So I went to Ustaaz Nour, my eyes watering with a mixture of pain, dizziness, and the effort to speak and keep my stomach calm, and told him I was going back to the dorms.

He was very understanding about it, always is. And I had my homework to turn in, so it wasn't like I was skipping out just because I wasn't prepared. Robyn didn't ask any questions either. I wonder now if she was just being kind or if I really looked that bad. Either way, I didn't really care as long as I got out of there.

I managed to make it back to the dorms before throwing up again, but it was a mad dash from the elevator (I was in no condition to take the stairs) to the restroom, where I only made it to the sink. Thankfully, it was all liquid anyway. At least in the comfort of my own bathroom I was able to pause, take a few breaths, and wash my face. After which I changed in to pjs, tried to drink some sprite, and climbed into bed, praying for sleep. But that wasn't going to happen.

Over the next few hours I ran to the restroom no less than four times. The first to throw up the sprite, the second to throw up the pepto-bismol I'd taken after that, the third pure water, and the fourth the strongest anti-bacterial I had. I was miserable. Every single time was violent and messy.

At that point, I didn't know what to do. Clearly something was wrong, but I couldn't keep down anything that might make it better, and I definitely couldn't sleep it off. So I called Robyn, just to get her opinion, see if it was normal to be this violently ill. She didn't have any advice, but she did call some of the med students to come check on me.

While I was waiting for someone to show up, Habiba stopped by to set up a meeting. She took one look at me and got this horrified look on her face, like I was death warmed over or something. I managed to explain, sort of. Either way, she went and got someone, and with that someone and Robyn's someone, and everyone who was just attracted by the commotion, I had a party of Egyptians sitting in my room discussing what was wrong with me.

Someone gave me another type of pill at some point. I managed to keep it down for a bit, though I still don't know how. I think it helped, but I might have just been going through a down period.

Anyway, Robyn showed up a while after that, and we decided to go to the hospital, mostly because I was dying of thirst and obviously couldn't drink anything. I got my choice of the public hospital or the private one. The private one has better care, but it's also more expensive. Then again, health care is Egypt is a steal compared to America, and I have insurance, so I went with the better care.

They gave me an IV of fluid, first of all. Asked some questions, took my temperature and blood pressure, performed some tests. I think everyone figured it was bug. That's what I thought it was. Mostly I was just hoping they could inject me with a medicine I couldn't throw up. But if I've learned anything over the last few days, Egyptian doctors will go to great lengths to make sure they're right. Which is useful.

So, just as a precaution, they took an ultrasound. Yes, it was cold. Yes, it was sticky. It was a unique experience too, seeing as it's Egypt and they respect women's bodies way more than any doctor in America ever has. I didn't even have to put on a gown. They just rucked up my shirt as little as possible and went at it.

Anyway, as I was saying, it was a good thing they performed the ultrasound, because I, at the ripe young age of twenty, have a wide variety of over-sized gall stones. All that vomiting was a gall stone attack, go figure. And the back pain from where I thought I'd thrown out my back vomiting? Yeah, also part of the attack. Yay me.

Anyway, they got me an appointment with a specialist for the next morning, wrote me a couple prescriptions, and let me go. I'd only thrown up once in the hospital, so I kind of hoped I was getting better.

When I finally got back to the dorms I wasn't sure I'd left the hospital. Many of the Egyptian girls staying in the dorms over summer are in Med School, and almost all of them were anxious to show off their expertise. They were all wonderful though. You would think it would be annoying, having that many people hovering, but it was kind of reassuring just to know they cared. It was also helpful having them there to explain what all the big words on my ultrasound results meant. The results were in English, as most medical practice is in Egypt, but I have no idea what chronic calcular cholecystits or bilirubin means.

I wanted to go to sleep, but I was still sick, and I had to wait two hours to take my first medication. I called Mom and talked to her for a while, then watched a show I'd downloaded. It was doctor show, thankfully, and it made me feel tons better seeing all those poor patients worse off than I was.

I left the door unlocked all night so that the girls could poke their heads in and make sure I was breathing. I swear some of them were more concerned than Mom, which is saying a lot.

My appointment this morning was at ten, but appointments here don't work like appointments in the states. Ten means the doctor will be in at ten, and all the patients get a number when they make their appointment, and then he goes through them one by one. I was fourth in line. But if the doctor's there early, or other patients don't show up, you could be in in now time at all.

Either way, Robyn said she would meet me at the dorms at a quarter to ten. The hospital's only about a five minute cab ride away. I had no intention of getting up early, but I was still disgusting from the day before, so I planned to get up at nine and at least shower before the appointment. Unfortunately, that didn't happen.

My head felt like a ball of lead when my alarm went off this morning. So I hit the snooze button until about 9:32. That gave me just enough to time to pee and brush my teeth before I had to run down and meet Robyn. Still gross.

At the very least I wasn't nauseous anymore. From what Mom's research has told me, gall stone attacks come and go. And from what the doctor's told me, they usually come from fatty foods. At this point I hadn't eaten in two days, so fatty food wasn't a danger.

We got the hospital, and of course there was a wait, but I'm good at waiting. I realized to late I'd forgotten to bring a book, but there were enough signs and diplomas and things on the walls for me to occupy myself deciphering. If nothing else, this whole episode was a great vocabulary builder.

The doctor, when we got in to see him, was a very nice man. I've heard that Egyptian doctors don't like to explain things, but he answered all of my questions without a problem, and when he laid out my options for me, he did it in great detail.

Basically, I need my gallbladder removed, end of story. The question was whether to do it here or back in America. Either place, it would be a laproscopic surgery, meaning that tiny little microscope and about three centimeter long incision points and almost no recovery time. It's cheaper in Egypt, but I have insurance, so that's not a big issue. In America, obviously, I would have the added benefit of my family, but it's a simple surgery, so while it'd be nice to have them around it's not really a necessity.

I needed to discuss my decision with Mom, of course, so I asked the doctor for some time to decide. He gave me the paper work for both options. Talking to Mom though, I realized something important. At this point, I actually have more confidence in the Egyptian doctors than the American ones. They'd certainly treated me better up to this point.

On that note, I'd like to make a side-bar. Some of you may know that back in America I was having stomach issues a couple months back. Anytime I ate, my stomach would hurt, especially when I ate fatty or greasy foods. I had a check up around the same time and I brought it up to Dr. Nguyen. She told me it was heart burn. I questioned her diagnosis, because I'd had heart burn before, and it didn't feel like heart burn, but she brushed me off and told me to by over the counter pills. Mom found out today the conversation wasn't even on record.

Those were my first gall stone symptoms, completely disregarded despite my wanting tests. On the other hand, here, throwing up in a country I expected to be throwing up in, they run a test just to make sure and find something potentially severe. The way Robyn put it, they'd rather cure you the first time than get your money the second.

Anyway, in case you hadn't figured it out I decided to go through with the surgery here. Doctors aside, if I didn't do the surgery here I'd be on a heavy pill and strict diet regimen for the rest of my time here, and I'd still be at risk for another attack. Frankly, I'd really rather enjoy my last two weeks here, and I really don't want to risk an attack on an airplane, because that would suck.

Anyway, after I made the decision we started running around the hospital: to radiology for x-rays, the lab for blood work, and then back to the doctor to find out what to do next. He said the entire surgery team had to approve my work-up before we could set a time for the operation, and the blood work wasn't going to be done until seven that night. So we set an appointment for eight.

Side-bar again, I love Egypt's since of time. I had a doctor's appointment at eight pm. Where else does that happen without an emergency? Everything is open here all the time and people don't think you're crazy for being up at four in the morning. It's awesome.

So, after the hospital, I was feeling a lot better. I went back to the dorms for a shower, and then had a light lunch of tomatoes, cucumbers, bread and white cheese. I also had a piece of baklava, which yes, has a little fat, but I only had one, and baklava's my favorite, and the dorms only have it once every three weeks. Also, it settled fine, so no problem.

Since I was still feeling alright, alright enough to go to class at the very least, I figured I'd best start on my homework for tomorrow. In Egpytian we had three movie clips that we had to watch and transcribe, but they were only on the computers in the dar, and we couldn't put them on a flash drive. As such, I headed over to the dar for our weekly meeting, and then hung out doing my homework.

I finished with the Egyptian around and headed back to the dorms for dinner. Bread, rice, and watermelon. They didn't have cheese this time. Sad face. Robyn showed up around seven and ate with us. Zeinab, one of my my friends who lives on my floor, had asked earlier in the day to go with me. Like I said, they're worried about me. As it turns out though, she thought I was having surgery tonight, and when she realized it was just a meeting didn't want to crowd the doctor.

Eman, one of the other med students, did come with us. I hadn't spent much time with her before, but she's certainly a sweetheart. She got into a playful argument with the taxi driver on the way there, insisting I was Egyptian and refusing to believe he couldn't see it. At the hospital she memorized my patient number, just in case, explained my blood results to me, and helped me translate some words while we were waiting.

We had to go down to the operating room to see the doctor. Apparently that's where he hangs out at night. He was there with the team, and meeting them was funny only from the way the doctor introduced me. They asked me if I wanted them to speak English and he interrupted, insisting with a smile that I spoke Arabic perfectly, but my English wasn't so good. One of the doctors spoke a lot of English anyway.

They said my stats were fine to go ahead with the surgery, and we scheduled it for nine in the morning on Saturday. I have to be at the hospital at eight, I have to fast after midnight the night before, and I have to take a shower either before I go to bed, or before six in the morning.

The last thing we did before leaving was check the price. I sprung for a single room, because it's only two hundred dollars more, and as much as I love them, Egyptians can be loud. I'm not going to post the price, because it's still a big number, but I know it's far cheaper than anything I would have gotten in America.

We stopped at the pharmacy once again on our way out. The specialist had given me a list of three medications; two of which I already had, but I needed the third. Only when I got back to the dorms with Eman (Robyn took a taxi home while we took the tram where we played with this adorable baby boy who kept blowing zerberts when Eman tickled his elbow), did I realize it was the exact same anti-bacterial the travel doctor prescribed me before leaving America.

When I realized, I ran it by Zeinab just to make sure, and while she assured me they were the same medicine, she told me I should take the American, just because it was American medicine and therefore better. I'd heard people say that was a stigma in Egypt, but it was funny hearing her say it so seriously. Meds are meds. Zeinab was, however, amazed by my pill bottle.

Everything in Egypt is over the counter, so everything comes in boxes like you get over the counter in America. When a doctor writes a prescription, it's basically just a list of medications. You don't need his permission to buy them, he's just suggesting them. It astounded Zeinab that you could get different amounts of pills, and she loved that the side effects came listed on the side of the bottle. I'll be finishing off the anti-bacterial pills in a day or two, so I promised she could have the bottle afterward. I'm considering emptying my prescription pain killers into a bag so she can have that bottle too.

Anyway, that's about it for the story. I feel like it might have been a little disjointed, but give me a break. I just went through an ordeal. People are still asking me how I am every five minutes, but I can honestly tell them I'm doing well now. Hopefully come Saturday I'll be even better.

Oh! And in explanation of the post title, the hospital I've spent the better part of two days at is called "Mustashfa Al-Salaama" which roughly translates to "The Hospital of Safety." I was trying to translate it for you guys before I started to post and... well, it doesn't really work. While salaama literally means safety, it has a lot of connotations having to do with peace and health and sometimes religion. Islam and salaama come from the same s-l-m root.

Well, that's it. It took me a long while to write this post, so now I'm tired, and going to bed. Good night everyone!

Day 44: Disco Taxi

So, because it was a school day, there isn't too much to say. I've noticed some of the other students are getting a little pessimistic about being here, but I've been trying to distance myself from them because I have yet to stop adoring Alexandria and Egypt in general. There are still plenty of people here who are enjoying themselves as much as I am and it's great to just sit and compare our experiences so far.

I've been running low on snack foods in the dorm, so Tamar and Megan and I all went to Carrefour after dinner. There's nothing particularly interesting about that except that on our way back, we had a bit of an experience in the taxi.

Taxi drivers in Egypt like to define themselves by their cars. The outsides all have to be the same, so customers know they're registered taxis, but the insides tend to vary a bit. Some drivers cover their dashes in mirrors, others have tassels hanging from the ceiling, some have hung Quranic verses on the walls, the majority of them have fur on top of the dash, etc. This guy had the nicest taxi I've ever seen by far.

Not only were the usually black seats reupholstered in this gorgeous gray leather, but he had flashing blue strobe lights inside about the front and rear windshields, a silver tissue dispenser in the ceiling, and a television playing music videos installed where the radio would usually be. It was nice, but the driver himself wasn't very talkative.

I wondered how the fancy interior and somber demeanor of our cabby boded for our fare. A nice cab isn't any more expensive than a ratty one, but I thought the driver might feel he deserved more than we were willing to pay. A ride from the dorms to Carrefour costs five pounds, however there's usually more traffic on the way back, so we tend to pay a little more. Still, Egyptians have always told us no more than seven for the return trip.

Cab drivers disagree.

It's hard to find a cab driver to agree to take you from Carrefour to the dorms for less than ten, because they know there's no other way for you to get back. The thing is, we've learned not to ask about the fare, but rather to know what's appropriate and just pay it. This, however, usually leads to problems. More so this time.

We didn't even ask him to take us all the way to the dorms. Instead we got out on the McDonald's at the corner, which is easier for him. There had hardly been any traffic at all, seven would have been over paying him, but I happened to have exactly eight in my pocket, and it was a nice cab, so I didn't see why I shouldn't just give him all of it. The driver, however, wasn't happy with that.

I handed him the fare through the window and started to follow Megan and Tamar away from the cab when not the cabby, but the girl who was about the get into the cab calls after me. The driver is out of the car yelling "Tin boul! Tin boul!" and waving the money. I didn't get it at first, because "tin boul" means nothing in Arabic. So I stared at him blankly, taking the money when he starts to shove it in to my hands. It took me a minute to catch on.

Tin boul = ten pound. He wanted ten pounds, like the rest of them, and while I'm usually inclined to over pay just to keep people happy, he was being ridiculous. First of all, it pisses me off when Egyptians try to speak English to me like I'm stupid. Sure, I hadn't had a conversation with the man in the cab, but we'd given him directions in passable Arabic. Besides, 9 times out of 10 I understand their Arabic better anyway.

Second, there was no way I was paying ten pounds for a six pound ride that I'd already paid eight for. So I handed him back the money, told him that was enough, and walked off.

That's really the end of the story. He kept shouting angrily, but didn't follow. Which was smart, because we were near the dorms, where we have guards who would have chased him off. I just thought I'd tell it.

I've had cab drivers put up a fuss before, but usually all you have to tell them is that you know that you gave an appropriate amount and they grumble and accept it, because they know you're right. This was the first driver who was actively belligerent, and the first who kept shouting after I told him I knew what I was doing.

Anyway, just a story for you all, because nothing else of note happened today. Now I have to go finish my homework. Le sigh.

Days 42 & 43: New Friends and Old Friends

So, I didn't post yesterday, but that's because the post would have looked like the following:

"Today I woke up, did homework, ate dinner, napped, woke up, and did more homework. Also, I didn't go to the catacombs. Also, I remembered the the name of that amazing restaurant Habiba took me to. It's called Muhammad Ahmed. The end."

I figured you wouldn't fault me for waiting a day to add that to this post, not that this post is going to be much more interesting.

I had class this morning, of course. Nothing new there. It looks like I'm going to have a lot more Formal Arabic homework in the next two weeks, which sucks, but I'll survive. I'm already trying my damndest to get a head start.

When I walked into the dar, I learned that Moutaz apparently missed me yesterday at the catacombs. I kind of wish I had gone, but I know my sleep was more important because I'm still tired as it is, and I slept most of yesterday. In sha' Allah I'll still find an opportunity to go. Maybe next weekend if I don't get into the Marsa Matruh trip.

When I got back from classes Hadir was in the room again. Despite returning a few days ago, I hadn't seen hide nor hair of her. I assume she was staying with family. Even now, she's still out with friends, so maybe I'll still be able to do homework in the peace and quiet of my own room. One can only hope, 'cus I still haven't found an alternate suitably calm place.

Tamar and I have a skit due together on Wednesday in Media class, so after dinner we walked to Silsila to work on it. We got a decent amount done, but being friends and all we kept wandering off on tangents about books and TV shows and life in general. Also, we decided we want to go to Siwa, the famous oasis, the weekend after next, even though we don't really have time. Then, with one scene left, we came back to the dorms to finish up.

The skit's a little... risky. It's about a demonstration against our professor, and how she gets assassinated. But then all the students cry because she's so awesome. And she is awesome. She has a great sense of humor, so we think she'll like it, and there was only so much we could do with the vocabulary, but there's a still a tiny sense that we're putting out necks out there.

After that, I started homework again, only to get an IM a few hours in from an old friend who I haven't talked to in ages. You know who are. It was great talking to her. I love being reminded that there are some people who will never really fade from our lives, even if we don't talk to them every day.

Now, it's back to homework. I have to get up early tomorrow, so I'm probably going to bed soon. I have to find an Egyptian to ask about puberty first though... Oh, Egyptian homework. How inconvenient thou art. Anyway, good night everyone!

Day 41: There's Always Time for an Adventure

I can't believe how exhausted I am after a Friday, but let it be known that the fact that I'm writing this instead of curling up and falling fast asleep is a testament to how much I love you all.

I woke up early this morning, expecting to go to the beach with Habiba and the girls, but they were no where to be found. We didn't have an exact leaving time though, so I figured they were just running late and started my homework. Lunch time eventually rolled around and I was starting to worry, but I went down to eat anyway and when I came back there was a note on my door.

Apparently the beach was overcrowded this morning, so the time for our excursion had been changed from morning to evening, four o'clock. I didn't really mind, though it did mean I couldn't have tea with Ustaaz Immad. Another time, in sha' Allah.

I did more homework, even took a half hour nap, and when four o'clock eventually rolled around Habiba came to knock on my door telling me Zeinab was running a little late. I didn't mind. I had enough to keep me occupied. Fifteen minutes later, however, she returned to tell me everyone else had backed out of the trip, so it was just us now. That wasn't a problem for me, but apparently the beach is better/safer in big groups, so Habiba didn't think going was such a good idea. Still, she wanted to go out. And so we did.

We knew we were going to miss dinner, so Habiba asked the woman in charge of dinner for the night if we could eat early. And because it was Habiba asking, and everyone loves Habiba, she let us. Let me just say, the food in the dorms is infinitely better fresh. The tomatoes, the grapes, even the chicken was more enjoyable. Mind you, we were eating dinner an hour early and the chicken was already cooked and in the warming bins, so I suppose that's not surprising.

After dinner, our first stop was the citadel at the end of the Corniche. I know I've written a little about it before. It's the castle like building that Ustaaza Radwa took us to our first day here, built on top of the ruins of the Lighthouse of Alexandria. I didn't get to go in when I went with Radwa, so Habiba planned to take me. Unfortunately, it closes at four, so that didn't work out the way we planned.

Still, if you'll remember, the area around the citadel is great for just hanging out. There are a lot of little merchants, and tons of children running around. We bought ice cream and sat on giant rocks just barely in reach of the sea foam and watched the sun set, chatting away. It was relaxing, and fun too. I always enjoy my conversations with Habiba, even if she doesn't believe that Mom isn't Egyptian.

Once the sun was beneath the horizon, we started to wander back towards the city in general, and towards the nearby mosque in particular. Abu Al-Abbas is the most famous mosque in Alexandria. Not only is it gorgeous, but inside is the tomb of a famous and pious Alexandrian in whose memory the mosque was built.

As it turns out, there's a market place under the streets surrounding the mosque that Habiba hadn't known was there. When we discovered it, we wandered around for a while. She was infinitely patient with me as a flitted from window to window looking for appropriate souvenirs for people. We went in a few places, and I bought a few things, but not much. There are a couple things I think I'd like to go back for, but I need to do some research first.

A couple interesting things happened in the market place that had nothing to do with shopping. First, was the wedding we walked in on. It was what the Egyptian's would call a "sha'bi" wedding, meaning lower class more or less, but with certain other connotations. Habiba has this thing for wanting to see brides though, so we sought it out. I had to put on my scarf to get close to the procession, but they welcomed us in like any other guest, sharing their chocolates and candies with us.

Once we left the wedding, I didn't bother to take off my scarf, so when we walked in to the next shop, the second question out of the shopkeeper's mouth (after where I was from) was if I was Muslim. I politely told him I wasn't, but someone nearby must have heard me because when we left that shop after getting a great deal on some jewelry there was man standing out front with a few books.

After verifying that I do in fact speak English, he put them in my hands saying "gift, gift." Normally I don't take gifts from strangers, but with a little help from Habiba I came to understand that he had just bought them especially for me from a nearby shop. What books, you ask? One about Muhammad, one about the beauty of Islam, and one about Christian Priests who have converted to Islam.

I don't have any intention of converting, but I have been wanting to pick up a book or two on Islam, and I figure these are as good as any. Habiba didn't seem to have a problem with me taking them either, so I thanked the man and we went on our way. It was an odd experience, especially since Islam isn't a missionary religion, but I didn't feel like the man was forcing them on me in the least, and as such it was kind of touching. That he would want to give me a gift like that.

Eventually we did make it into the mosque to look around, just in time for the evening prayer, actually. Once the praying started though, there was no room to leave, so we stood in a back corner by the tomb, watching quietly. The tomb isn't anything more than a glass encased box with prayer mats draped over it, but people have managed to slip money into the glass case through the years through openings in the bottom so that there were pounds and piasters all over the place. This really bothered Habiba, because apparently people put money there as a form of charity. Except if the money's in the box, it's not helping anyone, and therefore not fulfilling the givers' Islamic duty.

Anyway, I was glad I got to see a real Sallat in a real mosque, because while I see the girls in the dorm pray every day, there's certainly something different about seeing people gather in such massive numbers to perform the exact same chants and motions in such organized lines. All in the name of God.

I got a lot of weird looks on the way out of the mosque, and a few women stopped to question me. Are you Egyptian? Are you Muslim? Why do you where your scarf like that and not as a hijab? It was a little disconcerting, but they were only curious, and we got out of there quickly enough.

From that point, we didn't have much of a plan, but Habiba had never spent much time in this part of the city, so we just started to wander. Through market after market, deeper and deeper into the city. We saw a lot of interesting things on the way. A store grand opening complete with an entire streets worth of Christmas lights, ear splitting music, and men in giant mascot costumes. A higher class wedding pouring into the street around a beautiful bride and her new husband. A man selling fresh caught sea urchins off of a trash can lid. A group of police officers confiscating goods and fining those street vendors selling with a license - and there were a lot in this particular area.

It was all wonderful. Well, except for the police thing, that was a little sad. The best part though was that nearly everything was cheap. I got the exact same hookah set another girl got in Cairo for one-hundred and seventy-five pounds for forty. I think I'm going to donate it to the Arabic house, as a cultural group activity.

By this time in the night, we'd done a lot of walking. We were a little lost, and lot tired. Habiba asked some men at a tram station for directions and eventually we made it back to Mahatat Al-Raml, the big market place I first went to with Habiba about a month back. Seeing as it was late, about eleven o'clock, we were starting to get hungry again. Habiba took me to this great little restaurant where we got ful and hummus sandwiches on flat bread. They were amazing, and only a pound and a half. I don't remember what it was called, just that the name was very Arab, but I plan to go back first chance I get.

From Mahatat Al-Raml we took the tram back to the dorms. On the ride I learned that Habiba, despite being a literature major who loves to read, has never read Harry Potter. As horrified as I was to hear that, at least I don't have to fret over what to get her as a good-bye present now. I've already seen a street vendor who sells the entire series in Arabic. Hopefully he'll have two sets the next time I pass by.

When we got back to the dorms, Habiba had drink and food orders from some of the girls who were signed in for the night, so we stopped at a shop or two to buy water and chips and biscuits. The juice guy that I like so much was open, but they were performing construction on his building so he didn't have any electricity and the shop was lit by candles. I love me some late night juice, but the shadowy, narrow shop freaked me out a little, so I waited on the street while Habiba made her purchases.

Finally, we made it back inside the dorms. As mentioned previously, I'm exhausted. The combination of the early morning and the long day has my head spinning. There's a trip to the catacombs tomorrow that I signed up for, but I'm starting to wonder if I'm really willing to wake up and go. Besides, I still have a lot of homework. I've seen catacombs before, and these are Roman too, so they can't be that different from the catacombs in Italy.

Still, Moutaz would be a great guide, and I hate missing out on oppourtunities to see things in Alex. But if I were to go, I don't know where we're meeting. And if we're meeting at the catacombs, I don't know how to get there. And I don't have anyone's number who would know. I've pretty much made up my mind not to go, but I'm still disappointed. Hopefully, I'll get a chance to see the catacombs later, even if I don't have my own private walking, talking, Arabic Encyclopedia.

Well, that's it for today. I'm going to go pass out now. Happy weekend everyone!

Day 40: Party in the U.S.A.... in Egypt

It had become nearly impossible for me to wake up on time on exam days. It might just be because I stay up so late studying the night before, but this is the second exam day in a row that I've woken up too late to take a shower. I still made it to class on time, but I was not as fresh as I would have liked to be.

Regardless, the exam wasn't bad. I'm actually fairly confident about this one. Much more confident than I was about the last one at any rate.

In the early evening, I had a second Egyptian class to make up for the one we missed on Monday. The class was rescheduled so we could sleep in after getting back from Sinai. I'm starting to love Ustaaz Immad. He's very sweet, and he teaches us a lot of interesting things. Today's second class focused on the difference between every day expenses in Egypt versus in America. It was very useful. Then after class, he invited me out for tea tomorrow if I'm not busy. I'm going to the beach with Habiba in the morning, and I know Tamar wanted to go to the Jewish temple at some point. I haven't decided yet if I'm going to call Immad, but I'd like to utilize all my resources while here, and he's definitely an important one.

After class, I headed back to the dorms to get some work done, but later in the evening a bunch of us went out to Mermaid, the only American style bar in the city. It's all hard wood and nautically themed decorations and they play American music, by which I mean half the songs actually say America or U.S.A. in them. We listened to Miley Cyrus' Party in the U.S.A. at least three times. It was a lot of fun, just being able to dance and let loose, and it gave me a look at the less proper members of Egyptian society. None of my Egyptian friends would be caught dead within five feet of alcohol, and yet there were men (and a woman) there drinking it. It was a novel experience at the very least.

Half way into the night a lot of the Flagship students left to go to the one gay bar in Alexandria. It's only gay on Thursdays, so they were taking advantage. I stayed at Mermaid with Megan, Tamar, and a bunch of the students from Utah and Middlebury. The Middlebury students are leaving tomorrow, and while I'm not close with any of them, we've shared a lot of nice meals together, so I wanted to say goodbye.

Once the party at Mermaid started to die down we all took a Microbus back to the beach by the dorms. Some people went into the ocean in their clothes, but I sat on the beach chatting with the sane people. The beach in Alexandria isn't the cleanest and I was wearing a skirt that wouldn't have functioned well in the water.

When the swimmers had gotten their fill the girls left the remaining guys to walk back to the dorms. I took a shower and am now sitting in bed writing to you. Going out probably wasn't a great idea as far as staying well rested goes, but it was nice to relax in a familiar environment where I didn't have to worry about what I was wearing or what I was saying.

Tomorrow Habiba's taking Charlie and me with a bunch of other girls to the women's beach to swim. I'm not exactly psyched about the swimming, but I plan to wear shorts and take a book to lay out, sun my legs, and hopefully get some work done. It should be fun. I do have to get up relatively early for that though, so I'm going to go to bed now. Best wishes to all of you!

Day 39: In What World Could Funnel Cake Ever Equal Baklava?

This morning was pretty uneventful, so I'm not going to waste time telling you how uneventful classes were and will instead skip to the afternoon.

After lunch we had our weekly Flagship meeting in the dar. There wasn't much new news. The food in the dorms isn't going to change. Some people had complained, and so Robyn spoke with the Vice President of the dorms who pretty much told us to deal with it. Honestly, the food isn't that bad. There's a lot of rice, and not much meat, but the way the world's economy is right now that's really all the dorms can afford. And there's always enough of it, so I figure we should shut up and eat. Besides, it's not like we can't go out if we really can't stand whatever the meal is that day.

Robyn also presented some interesting opportunities to us at the meeting. One of the girls who works for Flagship is close with a Sheikh who happens to be in Alexandria at the moment. She's offered to set up a few meetings for us with him and I put my name down. So, if any of you have any burning questions about Islam, let me know. I'll be in a position to ask an authority.

Also, I signed up for a tour of the catacombs this weekend with Moutaz the ancient history major. I'd planned on visiting the catacombs anyway, and if I go with someone who knows everything there is to know about the history surrounding them, that's even better, right? Habiba may or may not go with me. She's been a lot of times before, but she's been invited, so we'll see.

The big surprise of today came at the end of the meeting. Robyn will no longer be staying in Alexandria as director of the year long program. Her family needs her in Washington so she'll be returning shortly after the summer program ends. It doesn't affect me directly, but I hope her family's alright. She seemed a little emotional when she told us, but it was masked very well. It will be harder for the year long students without her, but I expect they'll get by just fine.

After the meeting I went back to the dorms for a nap before dinner. I was exhausted. Ridiculously so considering I got halfway decent sleep last night. After dinner, I had a meeting with Habiba. I thought we were hanging around the dorms, until she showed up and told me to get dressed anyway. Not that I minded. I enjoy going out and seeing new places with her. When you have an Egyptian with you, you know you're not getting ripped off.

We went to a bazaar of sorts down the street from the dorm. It's a giant tent filled with little vendors selling clothes and jewelry and knick knacks and the like. Kind of like a flea market, but a little bit nicer than most flea markets I've seen. It even had a theater and kiddie park at the back, complete with cotton candy and a ferris wheel. We didn't go in, but we could hear the loud music.

We stopped at the Avon lady first, at which point Habiba was ecstatic to hear we have Avon in the states too, and then spent most of our time wandering and chatting. I didn't buy anything, though there were a lot of pretty options. I keep having to stop myself from buying clothes because the dresses here are gorgeous, but far too fancy to wear in America on a daily basis. Egyptian fashion tends to be a bit dressier than American. I enjoy it, but it's not conducive to cultural translation. If I had bought anything, it would have been this gorgeous gold and cubic zirconium ring in the shape of an eye. It wasn't terribly expensive, but it was just the tiniest bit too small. I kind of want to go on a city wide search for one in my size. I liked it that much.

Despite not buying anything, I'll probably be returning at some point for souvenirs at the very least. Habiba says the market is there year round, so I don't have to worry about it picking up and leaving.

Apart from the shops in the market, there were quite a few food stands interspersed: ice cream, pizza, rice pudding, juice. One stand particularly close to the kiddie park caught my eye as we were passing and I had to do a double take. Sitting out on display was a tray of little dough balls that looked suspiciously fried. So I asked Habiba what it was.

Baklava she says.

Baklava? I know baklava, and that was not baklava. And if there's one thing I know better than baklava, it's fried dough. After all, I did work in close proximity to the funnel cake stand at Six Flags.

Disturbed by this claim, I had to buy a tray. It gave me a chance to cash my fifty pound note at any rate. When we finally got the tray, full of balls fresh out of the oil and covered in powdered sugar mind you, my triumph was complete. They're fried dough balls. But apparently anything sweet and slightly pastry like in Egypt is considered baklava. Go figure.

That launched a long conversation about why no one in America has ever thought to make fried dough balls instead of funnel cakes. I mean, I know funnel cakes are an American past time, but the balls are so much easier to eat. And all the messiness of funnel cakes usually detracts from the taste anyway.

Having solved the food mystery, Habiba and I wandered down to the beach to eat out fried dough and walk back to the dorms. She told me about a famous Egyptian who died in a car accident a few days ago, and his friend who is still in intensive care (useful word). I told her about the gay marriage debate in America. And so on and so forth.

When we got back to the dorms she helped me with a few questions I had about some expressions that are going to be on my exam tomorrow, and then we went our separate ways. The plan is for us to go to the beach on Friday with Charlie, her second language partner. It sounds like fun, but I'm wondering if I might run into some of the same problems I faced in Sharm Al-Sheikh. My bathing suit is definitely too big, but I don't want to buy a new one in Egypt with only three weeks left. Oh well, I'll figure something out.

Anyway, that's about it for today. Now I'm in my room, studying far later than I should for that exam that's coming up. I didn't do very well on the last one. Not that anyone did. And though no amount of studying could have helped any of us, I still feel the need to over study. I suppose it's just me.

Hadir isn't back yet. I think she might be staying with her aunt for another night, which is nice. It gives me a chance to study without distraction. I'm really going to have to work on finding a new study space now that she's back because I've gotten far too used to the silence...

Day 38: Return of the Masri

So, today I was supposed to get to sleep in, but I was still working on that essay I'd been procrastinating on well into the night, so instead I took a nap and got up early to finish. When I only had about fifty words left I took a shower, got dressed, and went down to breakfast because it was 9:15 and my schedule says breakfast ends at 9:30.

Apparently they changed the schedule without telling me though, because the lady in the cafeteria definitely glared at me, told me breakfast was over at nine, and turned me away. So I finished my essay hungry and bitter. But it wasn't a bad essay.

When I got to class it turned out I could have slept in anyway. Ustaaz Immad had canceled Egyptian for the day because he plans to take us to the Orphanage on the weekend to speak with the children there. Unfortunately, none of us got the memo. So we sat in class for an hour waiting on him before Robyn called him and delivered the news.

I didn't really mind waiting. It was nice to just relax and chat. And half an hour in to the waiting Moutaz, the dar attendant, came in and pretended to lecture us on the history of Alexandria. As far as dar attendants go, he's pretty awesome.

During the second hour before lunch I managed to get some media homework done for tomorrow. Then there was lunch, and Formal Arabic, where I turned in my essay. Afterward, I returned to the dorms intending to take a nap, but my nap somehow turned into a few hours of reading before dinner. When I finally went down to dinner however, there was a big surprise waiting for me.

Hadir has returned from Oman. We caught up on her trip, which she seemed to enjoy, over dinner and then wandered up to the room where she had a present waiting for me. It's a miniature bust of Queen Kiyra, the mother of King Tut. Very pretty. I thanked her, of course, but our reunion was short lived. Her aunt is in town, so she went to stay with her for the night. Also, her mother has returned to Egypt for a while. I'm going to meet them at some point, according to Hadir. They've all been asking about me.

After Hadir left, I went with Megan and Tamar to Carrefour. They needed to stock up on junk food, and I just wanted to get out of the dorms. But of course, I ended up stocking up on junk food too. At least if I miss breakfast again, now I'll have something to eat.

Carrefour is part of a mall, so we ended up wandering a few clothing stores as well, H&M and some Egyptian store whose name I don't remember. After we'd made our purchases I treated the girls to Cinnabon, because I was craving sugar and dessert. It was awesome.

The taxi back was an adventure. We're not used to going too far from home, so we tend to assume that all taxi drivers know where the dorm is. Our cab driver, however, did not. We explained to him as best we could using land markers and reference points, but we don't know street names, so it was a little difficult. Add in the traffic and it took a while for us to get where we were going. But at least the driver was nice, and he had good taste in music, so the long ride wasn't bad. And we got there eventually.

It's kind of nice, seeing my dresser drawer stocked with juices and chips and candy bars. I even have two cans of Mountain Dew for a rainy day. Because this is the last night I'm going to have the room to myself, there are several American girls over making the most of it. In sha' Allah we'll get our homework done soon so we can have a mini American dance party before turning in for the night.

Habiba has also stopped in as I've been writing, so she's back from her travels too. She got a second language partner today because one of the other girls' partners kept bailing on her. It will be a lot of work for her, but she's too brilliant to keep to myself. Either way, we have a meeting tomorrow after dinner. We have to somehow squeeze sixteen hours into the next three weeks. Wish us luck!

Days 36 & 37: Legal Drugs are a Girl's Best Friend

I should probably title this post with the last half of Day 35 as well, because that's where I'm starting. But I'm not going to, because it wouldn't look uniform. So you're all just going to have to deal with it.

After I posted the other day, Meghan and I wandered towards that beach cafe I told you about, but we passed a tourist market on our way and stopped to do some window shopping. Everything was overpriced, of course, but their jewelry and glass ware was pretty, at the very least. The one thing I did buy was Dramanex (Arab Dramamine) from a pharmacy in the market. Sure, I had to pay the inflated price of twenty pounds, but I figured it would be worth it the next day if it made the twelve hour bus ride a little more bearable.

We did eventually make it to the cafe, which was even more gorgeous inside than out. It was touristy, of course, but once the people working there realize they're getting your business they stop trying to annoying tactics to reel you in and just serve you like normal waiters. My favorite part was that each party gets their own little section, almost like a private room. It's open air, so you can feel the sea breeze, but there are curtains of grass and beads hanging around each section and in the doorways, so you're separated from the other patrons.

We sat around on the low couches, sipping juice and chatting for a while. At one point I had to step our because my roommate called me frantically needing the key. I still don't understand why Egyptian hotels refuse to give out more than one key, but it's very inconvenient. At least we were nearby.

When we finished with the cafe, we headed back to the hotel proper. I caught the last few minutes of the Germany/Uruguay game on the giant projector screen by the pool, and then I sat in Tamar and Meghan's room for a while, chatting. At some point, my roommate had come back to the hotel from one club and gone out to another, but she'd left the key with the front desk, so I was able to pack up and turn in early.

The next day was the bus ride. There would be more to say about it except I'd bought those pills. They were a godsend. I took one just before getting on the bus and passed out for the first six hours of the trip. When I woke up stiff, I only woke up long enough to get off, use the restroom, and get a lunch of potato chips at a rest stop before getting back on the bus and dozing for another three hours. It was bliss, plus a neck ache. But that's the beside the point.

When the pills finally wore off for good, I woke up and joined in some of the conversations around me. Meghan and I watched a play I had saved on my laptop, as well as an episode of Supernatural, then we got off the bus for dinner an hour or two outside Alexandria. I think they were trying to get us back without stopping again, but traffic was murder, and it was getting rather late. I had McDonald's, again. It wasn't as good when I was craving American, but it was acceptable.

Despite all that sleep, when we finally got back to the dorms I was still tired, and the internet was out, so I couldn't do my media homework. I have an essay on a movie due Wednesday, so I tried to watch the movie before going to sleep, but I only got about half an hour in before concentration became impossible.

Luckily, this morning I got to sleep in. And by sleep in I don't mean all day, but they rescheduled our morning class so that I could wake up at eight instead of six. I didn't wake up refreshed, but neither did I wake up exhausted and reaching for the snooze button, so I call that a win. Without my usual snooze period, I had another half hour to watch the movie before I had to head to the dar to do the media homework from the night before (the internet only came back this evening). Overall it was a nice, relaxing morning.

After lunch, I wanted a nap, but I had to finish the movie so I could pass it off to another girl in my class. Just as it was finishing up, Tamar came to see if I wanted to go to the store with her. After all that movie, I wanted some juice, so we went around the corner to pick up juice and cell phone credit and water and chocolate. Tamar even found a children's book to teach her the names of different birds in Arabic when I stopped at the stationary store for a new notebook.

When I got back to the room, I did take that nap. I planned for just an hour, because dinner was coming up fast, but that hour turned in to two, and I only just made it down before dinner was finished. It was fish, which I kind of would have preferred to sleep through, but if I hadn't eaten I'd be hungry now. So at least there's that.

After dinner, I wandered back up to the room and have been puttering around ever since. Ustaaz Mahmoud, from Texas, sent me an e-mail to inquire about my schedule next semester, in case I was interested in being a TA in the fall. That sent me to the UT registrar site, which is like my crack. So I spent a few hours on that, making sure I was on track for graduation and convincing myself I don't want to add a class on the Qura'n in the fall.

All of a sudden it was eleven o'clock, and I hadn't started that essay. And still don't have the motivation to, unfortunately. But, you all got a blog post out of it! And I'm going to go start it now, I promise. At the very least, tomorrow's another eight o'clock morning just because it's Tuesday, and I never have morning classes on Tuesday. So hopefully I'll finish the essay and get some sleep to boot.

Happy evening everyone!

Day 35: Sun and Surf and Salt

Today was a day of fun in the sun. And the water. And more sun.

We got up relatively late, since we didn’t have to be at the bus until ten. I didn’t actually end up getting up and going swimming. I was sleepy, despite going to bed kind of early.

The bus, after breakfast, took us to the ocean where we got on two different boats and rode for an hour. Most of us stripped down to our bathing suits early to lie out in the sun. The boat I was on had a lovely padded deck just for sunning, and I figured I should get as much sun as possible on psoriasis before I aggravated it with salt water.

After an hour we got to the first reef. We all rented super expensive snorkels and super expensive fins and those among us who couldn’t swim rented super expensive life jackets. And we all jumped in. Well, most of us. There were a couple people who were paying even higher prices to go diving instead and were waiting for their instructor. And a few people who waited for the second reef because they were scared (veiled girls don’t get in large bodies of water very often). And one girl who got seasick and didn’t do either. But I was going snorkeling, and don’t know details about their trips, so I’m going to pretend everyone had the same experience I did.

The red sea is by far the saltiest sea I have ever been in. A drop of water in my mouth tasted like I’d poured a salt shaker in there. I think the added salt content does something to the water pressure, because we couldn’t dive more than a few feet without our ears popping, and floating was easier than in any other water I’ve ever been in. But it was gorgeous. Clear and blue and perfect.

Our guide was a little bossy. He insisted we all stay together, which is dangerous when you’re all wearing flippers. I have gashes and bruises in a number of places from people kicking me, but it was that or get yelled at every thirty seconds for wandering away from the group. It was worth it though, because the sea life was exquisite. There weren’t as many colors as I remember in the Philippines, mostly browns and yellows and a pink or two, but it was hilarious to chase after schools of fish, trying to catch them and failing ever time. And there was one breed of fish that had about eight different colors in it.

After we’d swam for a while, we headed back to the boat, all tired and thirsty and ready for a break. My lips were killing me, but after a few glasses of water I was fine again. I’m not sure why we stayed docked at that particular place for so long, but we spent a few hours jumping off the upper decks of the boat, swimming around by the boat, and then eating a delicious lunch of fish and pasta and pita chips and cold slaw on the boat. Okay, so I don’t like fish, but the pasta and pita chips were amazing.

Finally, we cast off for another reef, and I sunned myself again because my psoriasis was starting to burn from the salt and there wasn’t anything to wash off with. The second reef wasn’t as pretty, it was mostly coast, but I did see an eel when I accidentally wandered away from the group once, and in one of the reef alcoves there were two fish as big as my arm.

About halfway through this particular excursion, a couple people started having technical difficulties, so we ended early. But we still hung around the reef for a while, just chilling on the boat and what not. About the time we started moving again I fell asleep on one of the benches. Luckily it was in the shade, because as much as I’d been wanting to get sun, I really didn’t need a naps worth.

As it is, I’m a little burned, but only on my back, and it’s not bad at all. I expect it will pale up nicely in a few days, hopefully without peeling.

When the boat docked again, we all got off and onto the bus. I over paid for a Mars Ice Cream Bar, just because Mars bars are the best and I’d never seen it in ice cream form before. For the record, non-ice cream Mars Bars are better.

On the actual bus, we had a bit of a health scare. One of the Egyptian girls on the trip with us, Riwan, has been having some issues since yesterday at the desert. We figured after the long walk and all that dust she was just having an allergic reaction, and after we got some water in her she was fine. Today, however, she started having a full out asthma attack or something. We’re still not sure, but whatever it was she couldn’t breath, at all. Someone gave her an inhaler, and that seemed to help, but by the time we got back to the hotel she was almost non-responsive. They took her to the hospital where they gave her an IV, and according to her roommate she’s back and okay and resting, but all of our thoughts at with her.

The rest of us, all crusty from the sea, jumped in the pool when we got back. It was only open for another forty five minutes or so, but that was all we needed. Some people played chicken, others had hand stand competitions; all your usual pool games. Around that time, a bunch of the girls started planning a shopping trip. There’s a white party (meaning white clothes only) tonight at the biggest club in Sharm Al-Sheikh, and they all want to go. Of course, this being a very sports oriented trip, none of them have many club clothes with them, and especially nothing all white.

Having done so many physical things in the last few days, I’m not exactly in the big party mood. And even if I was, I don’t think I’d be willing to spend that kind of money. On top of the new clothes, it’s a one-hundred and fifty pound cover charge to get in with drinks on top of that. I know the dollar’s five times stronger than the guinea, but that’s ridiculous.

So, right now everyone else is out shopping, and I’m in Meghan’s room, typing. She’s letting me use five minutes of her fifteen pound per hour internet to post this, as well as yesterday’s post. The plan is that after the internet, we’re going to head down to a café on the beach. It looks like Silsila from the outside, even if it is twice as expensive. I’ll try to let you know how that goes tomorrow when I get back to Alex. We’ve got one long bus ride ahead of us, but hopefully it will be bearable. Ustaaza Esma’ has some Dramamine, so I’m hoping that will help me out.

I hope you’re all having a good Saturday back in America!

Days 32, 33 & 34: Thou Shalt Not Suffer Death by Mountain Climbing

Alright. So, I’m typing this into word from Sharm Al-Sheikh and I will post it into my blog later, mostly because the pool is closed and I’m a little tired, but not quite tired enough to sleep. Well, that and everyone is either going out clubbing or going to bed, neither of which I’m a fan of.

Starting at Wednesday, I got up and went to class, like any other day, except this time I took my big suitcase with me, which got me a lot of strange looks and a lot of calls from taxis passing by. I didn’t really need as big a suitcase as I took, but it was that or my back pack and my back pack was not big enough for even the most basic essentials for four days in the desert.

Class was class, and as soon as it was over we filed on to the bus to wait for an hour until the second bus got there for the rest of us (and brought out lunch). Exactly like the trip to Cairo pretty much. After that hour, however, we were in for a treat. Twelve hours on a bus in psychotic Egyptian traffic, meaning swerving and swaying and the whole nine yards. I was fine for the first half of it or so, but my stomach still cringes at the memory of that last bit. It might have been better if I could have slept, but for some reason my mind was not drifting, so I was conscious the whole time.

Dinner consisted of a stop at a road side stand that sold chips, chocolate and soda. So… basically we all had a bag of chips and a candy bar. Not exactly nourishment. Then we piled back on and finally made it to Sinai. Literally Sinai, as in Mount Sinai, at two in the morning, where we filed out and put on our hiking boots. Or in most cases sneakers.

For those of you who don’t know the history, Mount Sinai, or Mount Mousa (Moses) in Arabic, is the mountain Moses climbed to get the Ten Commandments. At the top now is a tiny church, but it’s only there for people who’ve come for pilgrimage. No one practices there regularly.

The oldest monastery in the world, Deir St. Katherine, is at the bottom of the mountain. Unfortunately, we didn’t have time to explore it. Apparently there are a lot of old texts from all the Abrahamic religions inside. There’s also a well that’s said to make you love your husband or wife more if you drink from it. I wanted to bring some of the water back to America, but we were on a tight schedule. All I saw of the complex was the outside and a little outer garden through which I walked to get to their one guinea squat toilet bathrooms. That itself was gorgeous. But anyway, back to the story.

From two in the morning to six in the morning we hiked. Or more accurately climbed. Since I don’t have the internet I can’t look up the statistics for you, but Mount Sinai isn’t exactly tiny. The path was a winding loop of rocks and sand with vertical drops on every side, no railings, and even less light. Most of us made it by the light of our cell phones, which luckily didn’t span very far, because if we’d seen how close our stumbles bought us to careening off the side, a lot of us probably would have given up earlier. It was a bit like walking through the Mines of Moria, for those Lord of the Rings fans out there

But we persevered. After about three hours of walking, we came to near vertical steps that took another hour. Luckily, I was in a group nearer the front, meaning most of us would rather die of exhaustion than take too many breaks. It helped, pushing each other. It also helped that every fifteen minutes or so there was another stand selling outrageously priced water, juice, and snacks. I’m not gonna lie, my anger at the ten guinea chocolate bars definitely made me want to reach the top more. That and my refusal to let the camel riders beat me.

You have to climb the last hour of stairs no matter what, but you can pay eighty-five Egyptian pounds for a camel to take you the first three. Every little bit another caravan of tourists, looking horrified that there was nothing more than a camel standing between them and their deaths, would wander past us. I wasn’t going to let them shame me like that though, and neither was anyone else in our group.

Basically what I’m getting at is that it was torture, and by the time we got to the top we all thought we were going to die. A few girls actually didn’t make it and decided to stay at the last rest station before the stairs, rather than take the last and most dangerous leg of the journey. I understand their trepidation, but I figure if you can make it that far, you might as well push the whole way, just to say you did.

Anyway, I’d kind of been hoping the top of the mountain would be this awe inspiring experience, and it was nice, but unfortunately it was tourist trap. People had been climbing the mountain all night, and there were hundreds milling around in a space made for about twenty. I saw the sunrise, I took pictures, I picked up a few souvenirs, and then I just wanted to get out of there. I’ll remind you, I hadn’t slept since I woke up for classes at six in the morning the previous day.

I don’t know how Moses did it.

The descent from the mountain was easier, but we were all in misery at that point, so I don’t think we acknowledged or cared. It was still dangerous, mostly because we couldn’t control our speed on such a steep incline, and there were still jagged rocks as far as the eye could see, but at least we could see the edge of the path as well as where the rocks were. It didn’t stop us from slipping, but it did stop us from outright tripping on them like we did on the way up. I twisted left ankle once and my right ankle twice, but they were all light, thank goodness. Some people came out much worse for wear.

We got to the bottom of the mountain maybe two hours after sunrise, met up in front of the monastery, and loaded on to the bus and drove to a hotel. But not to sleep, of course, just to shower and have breakfast. As it turns out, all of the Egyptian girls, one of the American guys who was in Egypt last year, and out program director weren’t stupid enough to attempt such a climb. So they slept, like normal people.

Honestly, I was just bitter at this point. Breakfast was pretty good, even if I was falling asleep over it. Once we’d all eaten, we got back on the bus and drove for about three hours to the coast city of Dahab. I popped two aspiring and slept this time, even if it wasn’t well.

Dahab, like most of the coast of the Sinai Peninsula, is a major tourist trap. They specialize in snorkeling and scuba diving and deal mostly with Russians and Italians, but it’s not uncommon for Americans to wander through. The Red Sea is spectacular, and you can see Saudi Arabia from the coast. I have pictures.
When we got to the resort (yes resort) at Dahab, we had an hour and a half before the group left for optional snorkeling at a place called Blue Hole. It’s an area where a meteor hit the coast, so there’s a really deep pool with all sorts of wildlife. There was no way I was going to be coherent enough to snorkel in an hour and half, so my plan was to sleep the four hours until dinner, then wake up and go the beach. That, of course, didn’t happen. I went to sleep and slept until six o’clock the next morning. Sixteen hours. That I needed. Badly.

I woke up barely able to move, but at least no longer tired. Stretching helped a bit with the soreness, but not much. Then I got dressed, packed up, and went to the best breakfast I’ve had in Egypt so far. They had everything American, like toast and omelettes and fake liquid scrambled eggs that they may or may not have forgotten to cook. But then on the other hand they had the best of Arabic breakfast, like breads and cheeses and mango juice. And a sweets table, of course, with donuts and honey drizzled delicacies. It didn’t really make up for the miserable day before, but I was willing to take what I could get.

The first thing on the schedule for the day was a safari in the desert, which confused us all. Sinai isn’t really known for its animals, and sure enough we saw a couple goats, but nothing or note. Turns out, the safari was meant for us to look at mountains, lots and lots of mountains. We piled into about seven different jeeps, drove on a road for an hour, off roaded for another half hour, and finally ended up in the middle of the desert, surrounded by huge cliffs and deep valleys. Valleys which we descended into.

We had about four guides and two Bedouins between us all. They interspersed themselves and we descended among the rocks for an obstacle course like hike in a hundred and six degree weather. I’m not going to complain about this hike, because despite everyone else’s whining, I really did enjoy it. Thanks to the different minerals in Sinai, the mountains are all different colors: red and yellow and black and green. It was beautiful, and peaceful, and when we took a break the Bedouins played drums on trash cans for us and sang in Arabic.

I got a little sun, but I’m not by any means burned. The only part that I really had any issue with was at the very end. Because we descended into a valley, we had to climb back out of it. We literally climbed a sheer cliff, having to find hand and foot holds, without any safety equipment. One girl literally started to hyperventilate when we had to cross this narrow rock bridge type construction. That part was fun though, and I didn’t have any issues. But after the first climb, we crossed a huge set of sand dunes and climbed a sand cliff to the top.

Sand is not fun. At all.

At least the end was at the top of that second cliff. We caught our breath and rehydrated for a while and waited for everyone else to finish. I was at the front of this group, and we had quite a while to wait considering some people were putting up a fight about such strenuous activities for the second day in a row. One of the Egyptian girls actually passed out, and one of the American’s got sick from drinking water too quickly. The Bedouins were friendly though, and I bought a souvenir or two from them as well.

We went back to the hotel in the same jeeps we came in. I definitely think I was in the best jeep. First of all, we were an all girls jeep, with myself, Kaylea, Tamar, Meghan, Grace, and Ustaaza Esma’. Esma’ teaches Egyptian for the program, and while I’d never talked to her before, I was happy for the chance to meet her. She was educated in France, speaks Italian almost fluently, and is incredibly sweet. We had a lot of conversations to and from the safari.

Ours was also the best jeep because we had the best driver and the only police officer. Whenever a large group of foreigners travels in Egypt, they have to have a tourism police officer with them. Officer Mahmoud, for whatever reason, chose our jeep, and so we were always in the front of the procession. He was also very nice about pointing out important landmarks on the road, like Sleeping Camel Mountain, which looks like a sleeping camel. As for our driver, Muhammad, when it got to off roading he was sure to make it as fun as possible for us. It was like a real life roller coaster. We were all screaming and flying out of our seats, all with Amr Diab (world famous Egyptian singer) in the background. It was an awesome experience.

After the safari, we returned to the hotel to pick up our bags and got on the road for Sharm Al-Sheikh. Sharm Al-Sheikh is an even more famous tourist destination than Dahab. It’s on the very tip of the Sinai Peninsula, and anytime I’ve seen rich Egyptians taking vacations in the movies, it’s always been to Sharm. We got into the resort at about six-thirty and I had an hour until dinner, so I called Mom and we chatted for a bit. She was busy with Church camp stuff, but at least she doesn’t have to read this blog as carefully ‘cus I’ve pretty much told her all of it.

Dinner was nice, a buffet, but the buffet was spread all around the room with different food tables between different sets of dining tables and it was very hard to know what was available and then get to it. It still had a fairly nice salad and pasta dinner. Even if the salad was a bit of a letdown, I was ecstatic to have it. We can’t eat the salad in Alexandria because it’s washed in tap water.

After dinner was free time, but apparently it’s customary in Egyptian resorts to close the pool at seven. Something about it not being safe after dark even though there are lights everywhere. I was disappointed, because after all that desert I really wanted a swim. There isn’t even a beach to swim on. Apparently it was the same story in Dahab, but I slept too long to notice.

With swimming closed to us, we didn’t have many options. I explored the boardwalk type area with Grace for a while, but there wasn’t anything that really caught my eye. The hotel was throwing a beach party at ten, but no one really wanted to go with all the tourists that were going to be there. It’s odd, being one of the majority again. Like I said, everyone here is Russian, so we blend right in. All the girls have been wearing shorts and bathing suit tops. I even saw some veiled girls getting weird looks. I was a little offended, because this is their country, but it just goes to show how different the tourist spots are.

Eventually, most of us ended up at the hotel bar, if for no other reason than it had the comfiest seats. We sat, some of us drank (lightly, due the great expense), and we chatted and played cards. When the group started to break up, some to go out on the town, others to go to bed, I headed back to the room to shower. I still had desert on me that I’d wanted to wash off in the ocean and/or pool. I also needed to clean out my purse. They told us to buy snacks in Alexandria for the bus ride, so I bought chips and a chocolate bar. The chips got eaten, the chocolate got forgotten about in a side pocket. In the desert. It only ruined a miniature notebook, and I was able to salvage the notes from it, so I’m just going to buy a new one and transfer them all when I get back to Alex.

That about brings you all up to speed. I’m thinking about waking up early tomorrow to go for a dip, because we’re not going snorkeling until ten, but I might just take my beauty rest instead and try swimming after. We’ll see.