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.