The new normal

As Christmas is almost upon us, I reflect on how desperate I was to return home for the holidays last year. That is not to say that I miss my friends and family any less. On the contrary, I think I miss them more. Instead, I think this all reflects "the new normal". This semester passed with incredible speed consuming us with school decisions for the kids, me going back to work full-time, Joe searching for the ever-allusive publication, etc etc. We met some new friends, we played soccer, we got a puppy. Sounds kinda....normal.

Despite the vast differences in culture, we have found our groove. This is good and bad I guess. On the one hand, I finally have stopped waking up in a cold sweat worried that we will starve to death for lack of clean, safe food (and have accepted whatever food I can get!). On the other hand, we have done hardly any touristy fun things this semester. We haven't been back to the pyramids, nor have we gone sailing down the Nile. It is kind of sad that we are in such a cool place and the only thing we have managed to do is go to work, school, and schlep the kids around to all of their activities. Then again, this is normal too, right?

I've posted some pictures from our feeble attempt to correct this boring pattern here. Today we went rock trekking in the Wadi Desert near our house. Note the size of our 3 month old "baby" dog. She was supposed to be the runt of the litter...at 28 lbs so far...I don't think so!

Fuddrucker's

I have lived away from home long enough to have made peace with the fact that you cannot live a cultural moment 24/7. My heart belongs to America and for better or worse, so does my stomach. So, maybe you can forgive me for forsaking the lovely Egyptian cuisine in favor of visiting the newly opened Fuddrucker’s in Maadi Egypt. A friend of mine here had gone recently and said “it’s just like home”. It’s Thanksgiving weekend. I am missing my family (and food that I recognize on sight) more than you can possibly imagine. The other 3 S-Rs feel the same. So we pile in a rattletrap taxi and off we go…to Fuddruckers.

Pretty much, it is exactly like a Fuddrucker’s at home….mediocre food, weak-looking veggies on the bar, corny signs everywhere. There were a few attempts to Egyptianize it. For one thing, it had a cool kiddie “playland” with “Mambo Number 5” (a little bit of Monica in my life…a little bit of Jessica by my side, etc etc) on repeat and a couple of really gory violent video games. Also, I noted that Green Apple Fanta was on the drink bar where the Diet Coke should have been. Yes, there was table service (“and how are you too? Madame”) and the menu was in Arabic. Other than that, same old FuddFries, burgers, and (beef) hotdogs. For approximately 45 minutes, I was in heaven.

Egyptian Wedding!

Joe and I were offered an amazing opportunity to catch a glimpse of the "real Egypt" vis a vis the wedding reception of one of his students. Before I begin describing the wedding, there is some crucial information that North Americans need to know about relationships (in general) in Egypt. Egyptians consider anyone that they have ever met or anyone that their family or friends know to be "close". It seems to me that Egyptians NEVER forget the name and face of your 2nd cousin's neighbor's best friend and in fact, when they see them again, they greet them as long lost friends. In sum, the networks of Egyptians are much larger and stronger than that of a typical American. I am lucky in my life to have a lot of friends but I only make the effort to see maybe 20-40 of them a year. Most Egyptians see ALL of their friends at least once a week. And there isn't really the power-divisions that we have back home. Professors are seen as friends that happen to be professors that one particular semester. It is all very welcoming if not a little disorienting. Anyway, so back to the wedding .... The point is that, by definition, no Egyptian wedding can be small. The wedding that Joe and I attended on Friday was no exception. We counted table settings for 500 and people were sitting two to a chair, huddled over bar tables, etc. Easily there were 600 + people there!

Egyptian ceremonies are often held at home (sometimes at a mosque) with only immediate family and a maybe a few very close friends. Each marriage begins with the boy asking the girl's father for her hand in marriage. Assuming his blessing, the bride's family throws an engagement party where the engagement is announced. The actual ceremony involves trading rings. The brides moves her engagement ring from her right to left hand. Arabic blessings are given. This is the ceremony recognized by Islam and the government and is often done the week before the reception. The wedding reception is always held on a different day and is just basically a big party. In this case, the reception began at 9pm (typical in Egypt) and the bride and groom arrived around 11pm. Wedding guests gathered in the hallway and threw down coins and sequins on the path to welcome the bride and groom. Immediately upon arrival, the bride dances with her father and the groom dances with his mother. Then the bride and groom dance and everyone cheers.

This particular reception was held at the Four Seasons Cairo which is ostensibly the closest thing to a 5-star hotel available in Egypt. The ballroom was transformed with LOADS of white flowers on the tables and really every available orifice. Flowers hung with little lights from the ceiling (see photo) and on the tables (another photo). There was even a traditional "family tree" (see photo) that contained pictures of the entire extended family. It was truly magical and not dissimilar to what I imagine would have greeted guests at Cinderella's ball.

The bride was wearing all white (typical) and lots of diamonds. Her dress was bustled the entire time. Cameras were hung from long poles and filmed her every move which the 600 + guests could watch on one of two jumbo-sized screens on either side of the room (see photo). The groom mostly followed the bride around and occasionally looked relieved to see his "fellows" ... pretty much the same as an American wedding. He was wearing a tux with bowtie.

The reception music was LOUD and I don't mean American-loud. I mean deafeningly, front and center at a rock concert loud. Appetizers were served from a bar. Waiters came around with drinks (non-alcoholic of course). Joe and I perused the menu. Mmmmmm ... what to have, salmon, shrimp, pasta shells, steak???? So many choices. Turns out they were serving ALL in a 7 course dinner!

All this loud music and small talk with my students was making me thirsty and I was relieved to see our lemon / mint juice arrive. As the waiter was delivering my juice, Joe's tipped off the tray and onto the back of my dress. The waiter shouted "sorry Madame" and rushed into the crowd for fear of getting fired (hotels here are notorious for firing an employee after only 1 transgression). I zipped off to the bathroom dripping all the way. I had so much lemonade on me that I had to literally squeeze out my underwear. The dress was clingy and I totally reeked of lemon. While I tried my best to clean up, a kind 20-something year old dressed like Jasmine in a (real) Versace gown offered me her perfume. She had brought THREE large-sized bottles for the occasion! THREE! I politely declined wonder how exactly these overpowering scents would "go" with eau de citrus. I come back to the party to the faces of my worried students "Doctor, where did you go so fast?" Joe and I got a huge chuckle about how my magnetism for disaster seems to transcend cultures. 

Anyway, I made it back in time for the throwing of the bouquet (naturally set to Beyonce's "Single Ladies (Put a Ring on it)". One of my students caught the bouquet which caused a stir since the average age that upper class Egyptians get married is about 30. If there was a garter throwing ceremony, I didn't see it on the jumbo-tron. The bride and groom walked through a sea of women with the arms up (like "London Bridge" with lots of all -female dyads. Each group then "locked them up" so they had to smootch (see photo). It was all very sensual coupled with the gowns chosen by the bride's guests (would've made any NYC designer proud) and the skin exposed . So much for the "conservative" Middle East.

Joe and I left after the 2nd course of the 7course meal. Although most of the meal was served at the table, there was a buffet for the "in between times" (see photo). It was 2am and I was cold, sticky, and exhausted. It was a magical evening though ... one that likely went all night. It was like watching a fairy tale up close. Two people literally falling in love for the first time. I am so glad that we could be there to witness.

Venice, Greece, and Croatia: How I kept my sanity dragging 2 little kids through Europe

I'd love to say that I am the kind of mom that created whimsical reasons why the kids should care about a 1500 year old basillica in Venice or why they should walk (unbribed) up a zillion hills to get a glimpse of the sun setting over the acropolis in Athens. Please remember this kids....you will be really impressed one day! :) Even if you aren't...you made your mother's year at least pausing the "I want gelato" whine to check out the medieval wall in Croatia!

Wish I had better advice for other travelling parents-our best idea was researching the sights and creating "treasure hunts" for each with redeemable points for pizza and gelato timed to meal/snack times. :)

New Beginnings

Hi all-

So, the new semester is in full swing at AUC. Back by popular demand are excerpts from my students' biographies. As usual, they are funny, humbling, and even a bit inspirational (arranged by general type):

Honest
"When I first signed up for this class it was my intention to basically just go for easy classes to boost my GPA since last semester I didn’t do as well as I had hoped."

"I signed up for this course because like so many others, I've always had an interest in psychology and understanding the human mind. I've even considered having it as my major at one point. Besides, most of my friends love going around diagnosing each other, both to try and make sense of this world and to make themselves feel like they're smarter than one another. I want in on that."

"I am taking this course because I usually wanted to know more and understand Psychology, especially because of the fact that in Egypt Psychiatrists usually freak people out. That’s why the idea of studying Psychology seems very interesting to me."

"I'm trying to get a solid background in child psychology, or adolescent psychology (if there is such a thing) to become a guidance counselor for high schoolers, as my guidance counselor had the IQ of peat moss. My preferred learning style is a combination of lecture/discussion as I feel note taking to be a waste of time"

Funny
"I'm witty, impeccably mannered, and exceedingly handsome to boot. For a guy who's never been outside the Middle East, I also have an unparalleled command of the English language, which I use to write stupid shit from time to time that makes people laugh."

"Shopping is also one of my very favorite hobbies it puts me in an amazing state of happiness."

Inspirational (and a little scary)
"This course will be my pocket guide for my life journey."

"The reason why I (am a business major) is because of my dad. Even though I never studied business and wouldn’t want to but according to my dad I would do good in the marketing field or that I have a marketing eye or something like that. So I still didn’t decide because I still have no idea with what I’m going to do."

"I am willing to do whatever it takes in this course to get an A because this is the only course I have been looking forward to all summer!"

Enjoy the rest of September!

Kolle Sana Wenta Tayib (Every year, the same)

Kolle Sana Wenta Tayib (litearlly "Every year, the same"-a traditional Ramadan greeting that is roughly equivalent of "It's the most wonderful time of the year...it's the hap-happiest season of ALLLLLLL")

Yes, it is Ramadan again…the Muslim equivalent of Christmas…only with a month’s fasting, lots of prayer, and an inward focus on God and all that is right and good. Then again, Ramadan in Egypt is nothing like Christmas in America is it?

So, in Egyptian parlance, today was Thanksgiving Day +1…the biggest shopping day of the year. Where was I? Carrefour-the Egyptian (French actually) Wal-mart. Pretty crowded-and I do crowds. Still, I loved every minute of it…mostly because I got to see some many funny things. Here is an example:

I reach the pasta pinnacle of Carrefour at exactly the same time as a very ordinary-looking Egyptian lady and I offer my hand signaling that she should go first. Naturally, she goes first and stops right in front of me and loads 4 FLATS OF MACCARONI (24 bags per flat and 8 servings per bag) INTO HER CART!!!! Really…this is the month of fasting? What was she doing—preparing for Moses to come back? Who needs that much macaroni? I would have just passed it off as a “weird Egypt sighting” but the woman behind her got 2 flats, the woman behind her, 2 more flats. I sat there for a full 2 minutes people watching. Have I missed the announcement that pasta was being discontinued world-wide?

Anyway, our lanterns are up. Ramadan Kareem (Happy Ramadan!)

Re-Entry!

I have never known an astronaut personally but I suspect there is a moment when returning from space…you know right at the last minute when they pull the rip cord and go sailing into the ocean. Surely, it feels like a bizarre mixture of relief meets hitting a brick wall. It’s gotta be like when you are going 50 mph on a roller coaster and it suddenly comes to a “full and complete stop…thank you for riding the Brain Scrambler at Paramount’s Kings Dominion and have a great day”. Anyway, this is a feeling that all humans share…be it going back to work after a week at the beach, or that first day of post-Christmas diet…getting a credit card statement. Today, I got my turn. Yep, ya just swallow it and try to keep moving forward. So it was with our first official “return from summer leave”.

I have been warned of the difficulty of just such moments. Returning from 2 months of fun in the sun would be difficult on anyone. However, I, like most ex-pats, am surprisingly self-absorbed about every little difficulty in my charmed life. I will say though that 24 hours never seems longer than when spanned over 3 continents and human species virtually unknown to each other except by tenuous ex-pat threads such as our own. I spent what could have passed for an eon at Raleigh/Durham airport crying my eyes out about how much I’d miss my family. I felt comforted that the kids were crying too…they’d miss the sunshine, and the toads hopping around at my parents’ house…and then I figured out they were faking it to make me laugh. Despite the overcrowded airport, people began to slowly back away from us. Yes, we are the ones crazy enough to live in Egypt.

We made the connection in England with all the speed of a socialist official reforming health care…clunky, with lots of prim looks and virtually no help. I don’t understand Anglophiles at all.

Arrival in Egypt was hot (predictably), chaotic (predictably), crowded (predictably), frustrating (predictably) and filled with cross-cultural gaffes (should have been predictable). There was the woman in line ahead of us at baggage claim who refused to acknowledge a clean, upper-class, and well-intentioned Egyptian family who followed her around yelling “you are welcome in Egypt”. I explained to her that in Arabic “welcome to” and “welcome in” mean the same thing. She looked at me as if I had two heads (oh crap! Was I speaking in Arabic or English?) and told me “yeah, I just couldn’t understand her broken English”. Oh boy! I feel pretty bad for her tour guide already. “This is zee Sphinx. “Oh, it is ‘ZSPINX”…I thought it was just called ‘the Sphinx”. He already looked haggled with about 10 such travelers. I should have given him a little appreciatory tip just for existing for Americans like that. I didn’t. Because I am American and cheap like that.

We checked the maximum amount of luggage allotted to our family size-8 suitcases of 50lbs each and 8 carryons. Sixteen in all! One checked bag was lost in transit. It is always about the one that got away isn’t it? I can’t help but think of all that bag could have contained (World peace? Whirled peas? Which would I want more here in the land of stinky Pharaoh food?) While Joe was filling out a missing bag report (joke) and trying to figure out who to bribe to go look for it (truth), I took the kids to meet our driver. Once we located him, we sat ourselves comfortably beside a large family who looked to simply be picnicking in the airport for the day. If they were waiting for anyone, it wasn’t obvious to us. With the family sat a boy about 10 years old who sheepishly looked quite interested in the many bag of books and activities that my thoughtful mother packed for our journey (thanks mom!). I handed the boy a “Where’s Waldo?” or “Waldo feyn?”) book to look at with Aedan who at this point was over the airport seats making himself comfortable among the caftans. Naturally, everyone in the airport encroached to take paparazzi style photos of my little 6 year old blonde wonder “oh my…he is reading a book”….”look at that, he walks to his mother to ask for a Kleenex!”. Virginia was off in her own starlet-world receiving kisses on the cheek from TSA official (NOT kidding! Aren't they supposed to be protecting travellers?). I wondered for the millionth time how my kids would do with all the attention and blinding flashbulbs in their faces. I need not have worried. Aren’t all kids programmed to be adored?

Two minutes before Joe arrived with the fateful news about our missing bag, the leader of the caftanned group asked me (in Arabic) if he could take “EEEEEdan” (Aedan) to “my country”. To buy myself time to keep from screaming “are you INSANE”, I politely asked where his country was. After all, it had been a long flight to be a mother of a small child and maybe Australia wouldn’t have been too bad. Just kidding! Anyway, once convinced that I would not allow Aedan to travel without one of his parents, Grandfather Caftan asked us all to dinner at his place (in "his country" which turned out to be Egypt). This was not a joke nor is it uncommon in Egypt. I think that Egyptians fantasize about having a blonde child to their house (more paparrazi photos and without the annoying problem of running out of battery charge!) the way I fantasize about running into Gloria Steinem in the airport and inviting her for a Starbucks. Anyway, his offer was totally sincere and despite my rational, logical, politically-correct training, I started getting a little panicky. “Well”, I reasoned to him, I really would LOVE to come with my husband, but you see, we were just returning from a long journey and I needed to return home to ready our home”. “AHHHH, okay” opines a patient Grandfather Caftan. “Take my mobile number so we can do it tomorrow. I will cook many chickens to welcome you in Egypt”. “Thank you Thank you” I say, trying to avoid an international incident before ever technically stepping on Egyptian soil. “I will try to call”. Just then and with the timing of a stand-up comedian and the attitude reserved only for daughters to their mothers, Virginia says to me “Mooooom. Didn’t you know that Pinocchio’s nose grew when he lied!”. Whoops! Time for a nose job!

Yes, welcome in Egypt indeed!