an amputated thanksgiving

i just found this piece of an old post i never got around to publishing. im too lazy to finish it but i figured id publish it anyway... yeah.


hello all - hope all of your thanksgivings were as splendiferous as mine was.

so i just finished writing a gender studies paper that is, miraculously, without thesis. and for a paper without a thesis, it took me waaaaay too long to write.

i was trying to come up with a metaphore for my thesis-less paper but the only one i could come up with was a headless baby and thats a bit morbid, yes? so i didnt include it. look at my restraint.

anyway so i spent thanksgiving weekend in roma with a bunch of my highschool friends who are studying in europa this semester. (the intelligent ones go home after a semester. and yet... i stay. what have i discovered about myself from this if-then statement.) we are so cosmopolitan. no really. but it was a lot of fun. evan told us stories about st. petersburg that made cairo seem tame. owen got mugged. the riedel's provided obscene amounts of alcohol. good times. rome, btw, is gorgeous. and clean. and orderly. i miss the first world. although owen pretty much calling italy a third world country/cess pitt from hell by the time we left. lots of pigeons. owen called them "flying rats". i think owen was bitter. (dont worry we understand).

anyway i flew in wednesday afternoon and, with the help of VERY exact directions from owen, managed to make my way from the airport to the train station. the old guy sitting across from me on the train kept making awkward eye-contact with me though. swear to god if i hadnt decided to take a "nap" he would have spent the entire train ride staring into the windows of my soul. and then asked me out to dinner. to his villa in florence. where he would show me his world class art collection and teach me italian. too bad he was so old.

anyway so i fled the italian santa clause, dodged this greasy italian guy (surprise!) who literally rushed me when i made a coo-ing noise at his cute dog (apparently italian guys use the dog trick too - first i learn not to make eye contact with strange men. then i learn not to make eye contact with strange dogs) and found myself outside of the train station. now, owen had very specific instructions here. there is a taxi stand directly in front of the train station. i am to go stand in line, and wait for a taxi. so, i go stand in line. this line was like 20 ppl long, and there was not a single taxi in sight. this confused me. actually, it confused everyone in line. we all stared awkwardly at each other for about 5 minutes, and then i decided to take matters into my own hands. the adventurous rachel strikes out into the city of rome. she doesnt speak the language. she doesnt know where she's going. but she's confident it will all work out for the best.

and it did! i eventually found a taxi. after berating myself soundly.

sensible rachel: what the hell are you doing. go back to the train station.
adventurous rachel: no! i dont want to wait in line for an hour when i can just go out and find a taxi on my own
sr: rachel. you dont speak the language. its 9pm. youre dragging a suitcase. where are you going?
ar: i think i see some lights down there... i bet thats a big street. come on. have a little faith
sr: how stupid will you feel when you get killed off on a dirty street in downtown rome bc you were too impatient to wait for a taxi. your tombstone will read: survived the middle east. couldnt survive her own stupidity
ar: be a little more optomistic dear. yours will read: death by boredom

swear to god those are my parents. ive been brainwashed. anyway it did work out - i found a taxi a few blocks down, and when i drove back past the train station on the way to my hotel, i waved at all the poor shmucks still waiting in the taxi line.

oh and the receptionist at my hotel was this big, bald, white guy who was absolutely adorable, didnt speak a word of english and was wearing this leather jacket that said "PHAT FARM" across the back. by far my favorite person in rome.

Excuse me please, one more drink.

Could you make it strong cause I dont need to think...no no one broke my heart and as far as I know my grace is not gone but ive been listening to that song pretty much non-stop for 3 days now. who knew dave mathews band was any good?

ok i havent given up on my blog. its just i want to update it aaall the way, which is quite an intimidating task since now we're talking about a month of caironian excitement. but, i have decided ill do a more current blog entry and save the full update for later. just to get something down. feed the ravenous hounds.

so today is wednesday...always a good day, wednesday. im over the hump in the week and i only have one class left before the weekend. and my dad is flying in tomorrow! this is post visiting jordan and riyadh, and pre his visits to hong kong and japan. i honestly am of the opinion that he's either a CIA operative or some sort of international arms dealer. maybe i should keep his weekend jaunt in cairo this weekend on the DL. wouldnt want any of the massive amounts of enemies he's sure to have tracking him down to my humble abode. and trust me, it is HUMBLE. we've pretty much given up on the whole presentable-aspect of things. and one of the ceiling light fictures has decided to unscrew and is now dangling from the ceiling by some wires. is this unsafe?

but yeah. i have big plans but i wont share any of them with you in case they dont go through. wouldnt want to get your hopes up. ive been trying to decide just how honest a look at cairo-life i should give him. does he really need to know how many times a day i almost die? i now fully understand the "insha'alla" concept. when youre in a position where you miss being run over by inches on a fairly regular basis, it just takes too much energy do the life-flashing-before-your-eyes thing. you just have to shrug and say, you know what. if god wants me to die, ill die. and there's nothing i can do about it. or rather, if the great spagetti monster wants me to die. wouldnt want to be politically incorrect here. this chain of thought feels familiar. if ive already shared this epiphany with you, my apologies. obviously its on my mind a lot.

so life here is progressing normally. my friend has a new boytoy who has - god bless him - good looking friends. i really think thats the duty of the guys my friends date. i mean, theyre not doing anything for me, are they? but they need to somehow pay me back not only for their monopolization of my friend's time and the inordinant amount of gushing i have to listen to on my friend's part, but i also need some compensation for training my friends so well in the first place. none of them had any manners before i got to them. really.

so last night i was persuaded to go out with my friend and said boytoy and HIS friends. this was the second time id hung out with them - i mainly go as moral support for my friend although i dont think she really needs me anymore. sniff. my little girl, all grown up. at this point i think she and her boy are keeping themselves busy by trying to set me up with one of his friends. why do couples try to do this? such a strange form of entertainment... i guess theyre trying to spread the wealth. or fill awkward silences. i dont hold it against them. but what they dont seem to understand is that there is a scientifically proven limit on the number of happy couples there can be in the world at one time, and i think cairo just hit its quota. and, as predicted, i was unfortunately disapointed last night in the friends dept. her boy has one particularly noticable friend. tall. black. and gorgeous, of course. ok who am i kidding they all look like that. apparently he's stumbled into the sudanese community in cairo? but this one has an english accent which is just icing on the cake. and we were dancing together and whatnot and this boy, his dance style... well i wont go into it in too much detail. suffice to say i spent most of the time dodging thrusting hips. and i mean literally leading him around the dance floor as i backed away and he followed. some guys cannot take a hint. it was actually a rather amusing competition of sorts. anyway, he left me less than enthralled and vivedly reminded me of a certain - ahem - someone who was also ridiculously goodlooking and severely lacking in just about everything else. we shall see if im being too judgemental. me? judgemental? no.

this exciting evening kept me out until about 2:30am when i stumbled back to my apt only to discover that i didnt have a key. and i hadnt brought my cellphone with me in the first place. i really need a keeper. so i spent about 20 minutes ringing the doorbell and pounding on the door and was seriously considering heading back to the club and imposing on one of the boytoy's friends for the night when one of my other roommates came home and let me in. i dont like this girl, but at that moment she ranked right up there with karl rove. then i checked email, listened to my older sister talk about how perfect her bf is for about ten minutes (not that he isnt. it just wasnt the best timing on her part), and then went to bed. and woke up at 7am for my 8am three-hr arabic class. yes i did not plan this very well. but it was an interesting evening so i forgive myself. oh AND i managed to give a successful presentation on the death penalty first thing in class. in arabic. what.

ok im off to a study partay with a few friends. and then maybe my first american movie since august? mumkin? how sweet would that be.

Mommy, when i grow up i want to make beds. in egypt. ill make a fortune.

so i know i havent posted in a while. laziness, when forcibly mixed with production, does not a blog make. but to give you a tidbit from the excitement of cairo life, i have pasted part of a conversation i had with libby last night. enjoy.

oh and preceding this conversation was a brief dialogue about my computer. and the horribly strange sounds it was making. i quite honestly thought it was going to blow up. so i was in the midst of closing all applications and getting frantic advice from my sister when i realized that in fact these horrible noises were not the suicide cries of a desperate appliance, but were, instead, my itunes. playing a song. WHAT IS MUSIC COMING TO. and, more importantly, why is this music on my computer? (for those of you wondering, the song was by wilco. dear wilco, you suck.)

Rachel: im really sort of embarrassed now
amylyveon: go hide
amylyveon: under the bed
Rachel: no itll fall on me
Rachel: have i told you its breaking on a regular basis now?
Rachel: about once a night
amylyveon: noooooo
amylyveon: your life is so amusing
Rachel: haha yes i am rather amused
Rachel: except at 2am
Rachel: when my bed breaks
Rachel: actually im lying
Rachel: i tend to find it rather amusing then too
amylyveon: hahahah
Rachel: but its LOUD when it breaks
amylyveon: why don't you just leave it broken?
Rachel: and really uncomfortable to continue lying in
Rachel: which is what lazy ppl tend to do
Rachel: when theyre woken by their mattress falling through a hole in their bed
Rachel: and forcing their body into unnatural positions
amylyveon: ah
amylyveon: well that explains it
amylyveon: how do you fix it?
Rachel: oh have i not explained the layout of this master piece of contruction?
amylyveon: no
amylyveon: i haven't heard much about your bed
Rachel: ah the bed...
Rachel: so my bed is the extra bed
Rachel: and i guess its sort of the egyptian version of the portable bed
Rachel: "portable"
amylyveon: hahaha
Rachel: so the idea, i guess, was that instead of having the normal flat wooden board on the bed frame
Rachel: that the mattress lies on?
Rachel: instead you save time and energy and...wood? and have wooden planks instead
amylyveon: yeah
Rachel: genius, what?
amylyveon: wait
amylyveon: like, four wooden planks across the bed
Rachel: no there are about 10 of them
amylyveon: okay
Rachel: however
Rachel: there is a small problem
Rachel: these wooden planks that are supposed to lie across the bed
amylyveon: and that's all holding the mattress up so far.
Rachel: none of them are really...well....the right length
Rachel: so
Rachel: the ones in the middle arent long enough
Rachel: to fit across the bed frame
Rachel: and the ones at the end of the bed are too long
Rachel: (i think the bed frame might be crooked, but thats just my conspiracy theory)
amylyveon: hahahah
Rachel: so, the wooden planks in the middle are veeery precariously balanced on the veeeeery edges of the bed frame
Rachel: and any small movements of the planks tend to send them clattering to the floor
Rachel: loudly
Rachel: and they are quickly followed by the mattress, and, by extention, me
amylyveon: can you switch the planks so the too-little ones are at the foot and the too-big ones are at the head or something?
Rachel: you are so clever
Rachel: but no
Rachel: ive tried
Rachel: thus the conspiracy theory
amylyveon: huh
Rachel: yes
Rachel: i have another conspiracy theory
Rachel: i think this is the egyptian government's way of making sure us american whores stay chaste while in egypt
amylyveon: hahahaha
Rachel: because trust me this bed would NOT survive long under more...demanding circumstances
amylyveon: haha
amylyveon: that's really amusing

... (insert witty conversation here) ...and for my sister's benefit:

Rachel: i was considering posting this conversation on my blog to explain the bed situation
Rachel: i think i might have to censor that part
amylyveon: hahahahahah
amylyveon: yeah
amylyveon: you might
amylyveon: actually
amylyveon: you should censor it but not take out the bit where we're talking about you censoring it
Rachel: just make ppl wonder?
Rachel: thats not very friendly, now is it
Rachel: but its a rather good idea

so we'll let you wonder what part of the conversation you all missed.

Oh Sweet Misery and a Rump

so i have now had my first really truly authentic egyptian experience: food poisoning! yes, as a result of an unpeeled cucumber, i spent a good 12 hours trying to regurgitate my small intestine. on the up side this then gave me a legitimate excuse to skip classes, and sleep for about 48 hours straight. oh the simple pleasures of a guilt-free conscience.

this was actually a good thing for me. no, really. if laziness had not conquered practicality in my lunch preparation, i would be in luxor this weekend. oh, the horrors! you think, and i agree. why? because, you see, i dont really sleep in egypt. now to those of you who know me from college, this may sound positively unrachel-like. and again i whole-heartedly agree because a happy rachel is a rachel who is just waking up at 1pm after 9 hours of sweet, sweet dreams. unfortunately, everything in egypt is conspiring to give me an average of 5 hours of sleep a night, making me a very unhappy rachel. despite all this, when my enthusiastic friends said this monday "yay! a long weekend! lets spend all of wednesday night on an 8 hour train ride (2nd class of course, without beds) going down to luxor, and then spend saturday night on an 8 hour train ride back, getting home just in time to go to class sunday morning!" my reaction was, "oh dear lord i am too exhausted to chew and i have more work than god, but that sounds like a brilliant idea!" because everything in egypt has a certain once-in-a-lifetime aura to it which makes it very hard to voluntarily sequester onceself in ones apartment for the weekend for the sole purpose of sleeping, no matter how tempting this may be. thus, even as i pondered taping my arabic flashcards to the inside of the toilet bowl as a way of multi-tasking, i was also secretly celebrating my anticipated guilt-free weekend of luxorlessness.

so now it is saturday and ive probably watched a grand total of 5 movies in the past 2 days, read one very poorly written book, and slept enough to make up christine's sleep debt, nevermind mine. now i must actually, tragically, work.

but because that sounds like such an unpleasant idea, first i will update you on what i did last weekend.

lets see... thursday night. happy hour at the american embassy! the marines thew a party. awesome. we attended for two reasons: 1) we heard there would be free drinks. this was a lie. more, the actual selection of drinks was not spectacular. 2) i mean, men in uniform. come on. but again, we were disapointed as not only were they not in uniform, they werent very attractive either. it was horribly disillusioning. i, in my friendliness, agreed to get together with one of them later, something that i also managed to dodge as a result of the food poisoning (so many silver linings!) although his incessant text msging means that ill probably have to reschedule for next weekend. my life is so hard.

post-marine happy hour we went to the british social club for their tex-mex night of marguarita madness. my title. they probably would have gotten more guests if theyd put me in charge of advertising. however, it was awesome. the british club is almost entirely middle aged, well, british people. our crowd of 20 or so college students showing up was quite a shock to their system. in a good way. really. but they played old music and we all danced like our parents. to top it off we were all sexually harassed by this one very drunk, very old, very british man. momteza. although the food was late, and since we were all starving we had a game of steal-the-peanut-bowl from the bar going for a while. i was quite good at it. until i was caught. awkward.

we went to khan al-khalili again on saturday looking for this tent market michelle had heard about. we didnt find it, but wondering around khan al-khalili is always entertaining. there was one very greasy shopkeeper who took a liking to a friend i was with. while i wondered into a nearby shop, he forced his phone number upon her, as well as a a brief photo-opp. when i came and found her, he exclaimed

greasy shop guy: you! you are gamilla (gamilla=beautiful)
me: thank you very much
g.s.g: but! you are not gamilla oawy (gamilla oawy = very beautiful)

he turns to my friend and, i assume, repeats something he had said many times already.

g.s.g: YOU are gamilla oawy

she shudders a little. i should mention at this point that my friend could perhaps be described as a bit more... well endowed than i am. the shopkeeper turns back to me

g.s.g: do you want to know why you are not gamilla oawy?
me: oh yes good sir. please share.

that is, actually, pretty much what i said. they never get the sarcasm.

g.s.g: you are too tall. too skinny. you are not REAL WOMAN.

ouch? in naguib mahfouz's "palace walk" there's a breakfast scene between the mother and her two daughters:

"For all of them, food, in addition to its nutritional value, ultimately served an aesthetic goal, because it was the natural foundation for becoming well rounded. They ate deliberately and painstakingly. They did their very best to chew their food thoroughly. They did not even slow down when they were full. They kept on eating until they were stuffed..."

There's another bit of the book where one of the sons is lusting after an opera singer:

"She draped the black cloth around her skillfully to reveal the details of her body's featurs and articulations. It especially highlighted her full, gleaming rump. Then she sat down at the rear of the wagon. Under the pressure of her weight, her buttocks were compressed and ballooned out to the right and left, making a fine cushion."

I love that. Full, gleaming rump. Obviously, if i want to be fully accepted into egyptian culture, I need to get me one o' those.

Proud to be an American

so this is really random but my dad forwarded this to me a few days ago, and as he pointed out, a true patriotic american would try to get the message out there.

MARK YOUR CALENDAR FOR SATURDAY

AS YOU MAY ALREADY KNOW, IT IS A SIN FOR A TALIBAN
OR AL QUAEDA MALE TO SEE
ANY WOMAN,
OTHER THAN HIS WIFE, NAKED AND THAT HE MUST COMMIT
SUICIDE IF HE DOES.

SO THIS SATURDAY AT 4 P.M. EASTERN TIME ALL
AMERICAN WOMEN ARE ASKED TO:

WALK OUT OF THEIR HOUSES COMPLETELY NAKED TO HELP
WEED OUT ANY NEIGHBORHOOD TERRORISTS.
CIRCLING YOUR BLOCK FOR ONE HOUR IS RECOMMENDED
FOR THIS ANTI-TERRORIST EFFORT.

ALL MEN ARE TO POSITION THEMSELVES IN LAWN CHAIRS
IN FRONT OF THEIR HOUSE TO PROVE THEY ARE NOT
TALIBAN OR AL QUAEDA,
AND TO DEMONSTRATE THAT THEY THINK IT'S OKAY TO
SEE NUDE WOMEN
OTHER THAN THEIR WIVES AND TO SHOW SUPPORT FOR ALL
AMERICAN WOMEN.

AND SINCE THE TALIBAN AND AL QUEDA ALSO DO NOT
APPROVE OF ALCOHOL,
A COLD 6-PACK AT YOUR SIDE IS FURTHER PROOF OF
YOUR ANTI-TERRORIST
SENTIMENT.
FOR GOOD MEASURE, HAVE VARIOUS PORK PRODUCTS
COOKING ON YOUR BBQ GRILL.

THE AMERICAN GOVERNMENT APPRECIATES YOUR EFFORTS
TO ROOT OUT TERRORISTS
AND APPLAUDS YOUR PARTICIPATION IN THIS
ANTI-TERRORIST ACTIVITY.

GOD BLESS AMERICA.

Part 2 - playing catch-up. (mango mania)

so im rapidly becoming addicted to mangos. theyre SO GOOD. how did i miss them back in the states? i feel like ive spent my whole life deprived and must now make up for that deprivation by eating them every. single. day. and the mango JUICE. omgoodness. filled with mango goodness. thick and smooth with yummy mango chunks... mmmmmmmmm. the actual eating of a mango is quite the process though. first, one must buy the mango. off the street they cost about, you know, 75 piasters. which is about 15 cents. of course these are the homegrown ones. the imported ones (which im sure contain many lovely hormones making them bigger and, therefore, better) are about 4 pounds. (for the record, this is like 3 hrs of work with the average egyptian's salary of 1.5 pounds/hr. and we whine about minimum wage.) so once you buy the mangos you must peel them. this is harder than it sounds. especially when you dont own a peeler and the smallest sharp knife you own is about a foot long and looks like its straight out of the 'psycho' shower scene. inshaallah i will come back to the states with all my fingers. at least if i do manage to amputate a finger ill have a story to tell. about cairo. and mangos. maybe ill add some ninjas just to keep the blood pumping.

anyway once its peeled you get to the hard part. you see, mangos have pits. big pits. evil evil pits that are shaped like an obese woman with lots of unsightly lumps that dont fit into her clothes very well. so i am totally incapable of cutting the meat off the pit in the nice, edible little strips i crave. instead i cut into it, make it about an inch then hit a lump and have to swerve, ending up with a pathetic little Morsel of Mango Meat on my plate. (alliteration. i should write a poem.) very unsatisfying. all this was done with the psycho knife, mind you. so i spend FOREVER mutilating the mango in a futile attempt to avoid making a mess, get about half the potentially edible stuff off, and then give up and just gnaw on the pit. to be honest, thats probably my favorite part. by the time im finished with that not only are my hands covered in mango juice, but so is my face, and usually most of my shirt. i look like a toddler let loose in a candy store. this is also the most frustrating part because post-gnawing it is revealed to me - as all those of you who have ever eaten a mango already know - that the pit is less than lumpy. it is, in fact, quite the opposite of lumpy. so all the hacking and swearing and losing of the fingers was TOTALLY unnecessary. despite this however, i exercise my reasonable human being-ness and resist chucking the damn pit out the window. i place it gently in the trash, and then after washing my face and hands, i put the rest of the mango (a pathetically small amount) on a plate, get a fork, and walk into the living room to finish the rest of the fruit in an extremely civilized fashion. which takes about 30 seconds.

ah well. such is life in cairo.

so yesterday i found a new hero. he's this long beanpole of a black guy (i almost typed 'african american'. ha.) i saw him riding a bike yesterday. now, just riding a bike in cairo in itself is something worthy of admiration. those streets are a death trap for anyone not encased in a few hundred pounds of steel. perhaps even for those who are encased. traffic accidents are the second most common form of death in cairo. have i mentioned this before? its sort of constantly brought to mind. anyway, so he was riding a bike. but he wasnt JUST riding a bike. he was riding a bike while balancing a long wooden plank on his head. id say it was about 4 ft long and 2ft wide. just kinda hangin out up there. and balanced on top of THAT was a whole pile of mouth-watering pita bread. i mean, ive seen ppl with these boards balanced on their heads before - ppl here seem to consider using their hands to carry things a bit too much work - but while riding a bike??? and here i was impressed with myself and my ability to talk on a phone while biking around stanford. oh but that wasnt all he was doing. while i watched, he biked up against moving traffic, and wove his way across the street. he almost died maybe 5 times. it was amazing. and he didnt drop a single pita. straight out of cirque du soleil. normal cairo antics.

yesterday when i walked back from class i found a fruit vendor in front of my apartment. he had a cart stacked high with different types of fruits, pulled by a donkey. and he was this grey-haired, wrinkled little old man in a blue robe and a white hat. classic. guess what i bought from him. mmmmmmmmmmyum.

oh and ive made a break through in anthropology. i have discovered why egyptians are always holding on to each other. linking arms, holding hands, piggy back rides. not really. this is actually a really interesting subject - when you see middle aged men walking down the street holding hands with each other, dont you have to wonder what theyre thinking? its just something that would never occur to a man in the states. im trying to picture my dad strolling down the street holding hands with mr. gibbons or someone... lol. right. never gonna happen. anyway, i was crossing a street last night with a few ppl. we were doing it frogger style - there was no crossing guard available to stop traffic - and as a car barreled past us, the wind ruffling my clothes, all four of us, at the same time, grabbed the hands of the person next to us. and held on. tightly. thats when the answer came to me - egyptians are all holding hands with each other because theyre scared of dying. all the bloody time. its the only possible explanation. and i dont blame them - it is totally impossible to predict where those cars are going to go. if they werent all muslim i would hypothesize that every driver in egypt is just permanently drunk. i bet the longer i stay here, the more i will come to realize the true precariousness of my situation - ie being alive - and will start holding on to ppl more often. ill keep you updated.

oh right so i was going to talk about my trip to alexandria. alexandria is... beautiful. it is not, however, the sparkling white city of so many ppl's imaginations. i got this really cool picture out my hotel window (9th floor) of the rooftops of alexandria; picture roofs as far as you can see covered in junk and satelites. and then the mediterranean. its a really sweet picture. unfortunately its on my phone and i cant figure out how to send it to myself, or i might post it. anyway, alexandria is basically cairo with less traffic, less people, and a goooooorgeous view. my trip to alexandria actually made me realize how beautiful cairo is - and i have a metaphore. wait for it... cairo is like a junk shop. a dark little hole-in-the-wall shop with a sketchy owner. when you first glance in it, all you can see is the disorganization and dirt - an overwhelming mess. however, when you actually go inside and bother looking around, there are some really cool things in there that you could easily have missed if you didnt bother looking closer. so parden my profundity but basically cairo, at first glance, is really really hot. and loud. and pretty much a mess with crazy traffic and no littering laws and people hissing at you. but when you actually look at the buildings and the smaller, day-to-day scenes that you start to notice after youve gotten over your original shock, its a really cool place. honest. just hold in there.

oh right so alexandria. we smoked hooka (really STRONG - cough - hooka) and drank mango juice with a view of the sea. i bought fake, really unattractive, fendi glasses after we tried on about a million other fake designer brands. all really unfortunate looking. i was sort of guilted into buying them, and i was totally overcharged. payed 9 whole dollars. cringe. we got lost in downtown and tried some fried chick peas off the street. very. very. salty. we got harassed by a really nasty taxi driver, which was a first in terms of true nastiness. i thought of reprimanding him on behalf of the egyptian goverment but thought better of it. and this really friendly egyptian guy and his brother bought me some jewelry saying "no no this is egypt. in egypt women do not pay. men pay". i could get to like this place. we visited the library and its goorgeous (although inaugerated in 2003? wtf) the architecture is really funky - i like. i also bought some prints of sketches done by a guy named shadi abdul alsalam who's work is being displayed in a gallery inside the library. he does drawing of egyptian cultural scenes. my favorite is of a belly dancer. yummy. decorations for my new home. and i really seriously considered getting my dad a nail-clipper that came in a mummy case. the actually clip represented the shriveled little body of a dead egyptian king. it was so ridiculous i almost felt obligated to buy it. maybe next time.

Part 1 -playing catch-up

Ramadan Mubarak! and happy saudi national day. to those of you who care.

so sorry about the lack of bloggingness. zee life een zee cairo ees zee hectic de temps en temps. but exciting. oh yes. always exciting.

sooo what have i been doing with this exciting life...

last friday i was an actor in a propaganda campaign funded by the egytian govt.

yeah you heard me right. totally random, somewhat sketch (ok who am i kidding, completely sketch) but ridiculous amounts of fun. how did i get involved in this? so i went out to dinner with a friend of mine and we were walking through downtown back to her apartment when this random guy walks up to us and starts talking to me. now, in egypt this is not unusual. what WAS unusual however was the fact that he was white, and that he wasnt coming on to me. i was intrigued (/trapped since we were already walking and he was just walking next to us) so i listened. he proceded to tell me that he was looking for some ppl to be extras in a commercial, and he thought i would fit the part. i, of course, being the girl my mother raised me to be, immediately assumed he was a fake and would probably drag me off into the dessert to be hung by my toenails from the ceiling of some cave and be head-butted by camels. i mean, honestly, how cliched is the "hey im a PROFESSIONAL and in my PROFESSIONAL opinion i think if you came with me to a secluded place and took off all your clothes, my PROFESSIONAL pictures/movies/modern artistic impressions of you would easily cause your non-existant career as an international superstar to take off". plus he looked kind of sketch - his front tooth was chipped and he had this slow way of talking (which i later discovered was a canadian accent. go figure) that had a slightly creepy tone to it. oh and his name was nova. such a porn-star name. who names their kids that? but im not judging. anyway, before i could drive him away with my mad tae kwan do skills, he mentioned that he was the guy who had planned this tourist trip into the dessert that a bunch of my friends had gone on. since this now put him in the category of someone who had taken small innocent ppl to an unknown destination and had resisted the camel head-butting, i became less suspicious, and more interested, and besides, being an extra in an egyptian commercial? who gets to do that. plus he specified i would get to keep my clothes on, which was very generous of him, i thought. so he took my phone number and said he'd call me later that night to verify that i should, in fact, come. oh, and did i mention that it was happening the next day? this was actually probably the only reason i did it - my spontaneous actions tend to be those of a person with a much lower IQ than my planned actions. this makes me unique and special.

anyway i went home and checked him out - called up my friends who had gone on the dessert trip to verify that this nova character with the chipped front tooth actually existed and had made an impression on ppl that connoted something other than a recruiter for the eastern european sex-trade. this is when i found out that a friend of a friend was also doing it and that settled the matter. i was not going to pass up the chance to be an extra in a commercial in egypt, even if it meant getting up at 4:30am, catching a cab to zamalek, and skipping all my classes that day. especially if it meant skipping all my classes that day.

so that is exactly what i did - on 4 hrs of sleep i was out trying to catch a cab. the trying was actually unnecessary. cairo truly is the epidome of the city that never sleeps - 4am might as well have been 4pm and i probably could have caught a cab if id been hiding behind a bush wearing that really unattractive camoflage outfit that evan wanted to buy so very long ago. i was dropped off in front of the auc dorm - another reason i felt ok about it all: we were meeting in front of the dorms so i was picturing a huge group of auc kids doing the commercial. in reality i was the only auc kid there; my friend of a friend didnt even show. no big. the ppl who did show up were really interesting. i suppose it takes a special person to a) be in cairo and b) let a random guy on the street convince you to be in a commercial. lets see... we had an australian guy who was taking a few years off from college and, having spent a while rampaging through south-east asia, was now living in cairo with the plan of buying a motorbike and driving it up to syria. cool, what? oh the restrictions of being female... and there was a german guy who was in egypt for a tennis tournament, 2 american girls, one who was a nurse who wants a job at the world health organization and another who was a yoga instructor in daha (who had left daha because "something happened" and now cant go back there...drama) and another american guy who had just gotten into cairo 5 days ago and had a job at an environmental sustainability firm (they have those in cairo?)...and then there was me. the little auc student. they were all really cool though - just meeting all of them was worth the 22 hrs straight i then proceeded to spend shooting the commercial.

the commercial itself was hilarious. none of us really knew what we were doing, but we were all pretty surprised when they dressed us all in clothing straight out of the 1970s. i was in the most normal of the outfits - hair parted down the middle, little flowered band around my head hippie-style, huge aviators, a halter top and these SUPER flared, fitted jeans with a monster belt and some really junky jewelry. so fashionable. the rest of the outfits were hilarious though - we had beads and fringe, mini-skirts and big hair, and lots and lots of neon flaurel prints. all of the guys were wearing these really tight, flared pants with these high-heeled shoes that came to a point at the toe. so sexy. and these outfits were not restricted to the westerners i mentioned up above. they had all these egytian actors to set the scene. picture middle-aged egytian men with those i-would-look-pregnant-if-i-was-female bellies in bright blue tiiiight flared pants and a fitted purple, collared shirt patterned with daisies. yeah. it was a sight to see. they put side-burns on everyone too. and handle-bar mustaches. it was beautiful.

so the idea behind the commercial was make egyptians treat tourists nicely. apparently they have problems getting repeat-tourists because people come here and, you know, some creepy taxi driver grabs their ass. or their wife's ass, i suppose. or someone grabs their arm and physically drags them into a shop yelling "pretty price for pretty lady!" and then wont let them leave until they buy something. who would have thought that would make a bad impression? so the plot line of the commercial was something along the lines of 1970s: good shop guy vs bad shop guy. 2006: good shop guy is rich, bad shop guy is in a hole. the egyptian govt is bribing egyptians to be nice to tourists, and im helping. i figure its my way of making a difference.

overall it was a pretty sweet experience. the director bonded with me. the producer asked me to marry him. and, as you may have noticed from earlier, they kept us there for 22 hrs straight. no big. i drank a lot of mango juice. oh and they paired me with the german tourist for most of the shots (yes i did have one speaking part - we werent actually extras; they didnt have any real actors there) and he was really nice/good looking, but unfortunately didnt speak english very well. so all of my clever little comments went unappreciated. and trust me, i had a LOT of comments to make on this situation. sigh. i am so abused.

ok this was very long. but another one will come shortly featuring, dum dum dum duuuuum, my trip to alexandria. get excited.

I remember when, I remember, I remember when I lost my mind

how does "ms. bosley" sound. professor bosley? i guess i cant really pull that off without a degree... oustetha bosley. perfect. :) why, you may ask, am i pondering this? because, my dear, you are talking to (well, reading the blog of) a real live professional changing the lives of young ppl everywhere TEACHER. sort of. im teaching an english language class at a school in coptic cairo! how cool is that. how much would you LOVE to be my student. soaking up my wisdom with eager little ears... merrit and i are duel teaching 2 classes a week, mainly of university age students who have a very basic grasp of english. there's this english proficiency test that a lot of jobs in egypt require that you pass, and so we're teaching level 8 out of 16. its a volunteer position bc the school is run by a church. coptic, obviously. they dont really train you at all but they provide the text books so...we'll be creative. and how hard can it be. honestly. right?

in other news i applied to officially become a student - as opposed to a tourist - in egypt today. very exciting. turned in my passport and everything. it was kind of ridiculous; the office of student business or whatever was located in room 423 in the main campus building. there are 4 floors to the building. sounds like a pretty straight-forward room to find, right? oh no. egyptians like to play vith your mind. (yes i spelled it like that on purpose. its the accent. jaffar anyone? anyone?) i walk up to the fourth floor, and of course the 400s end at 420. why wouuld they make it that easy. now there are 2 wings to the building, so i walk back down to the first floor and take the OTHER set of stairs up to the OTHER fourth floor. but these rooms start at 430. at this point i had begun to tear out my hair and spit at passersby. i finally find someone who i can get directions from, and they send me outside, across a courtyard to another segment of the building which is, apparently, only accessible by fire-escape. now why didnt EYE think to climb the shady-looking stairs up the side of the building? how foolish of me. the office itself was un-labled and about 9 ft square. oh misr, how i do love thee.

oh and i saw a fantastic movie this weekend! - ismuhu the yacoubian building. i dont know if its out in the states... its this 3 hr long movie based off a book written by Alaa Al Aswany that has some really fascinating commentary on contemporary egyptian society and govt. def see it if you can find it. it just came out here so it might take it a while to make its way across the atlantic... a main character is that guy from "terrorism and kababs" - hilarious movie i saw at middlebury. he's normally a comic actor i guess... this movie didnt really lean in that direction although he did slip u a few times, which apparently was not entirely faithful to the novel. which i must read. immidiately. it was esp cool bc it takes place in cairo and i recognized a bunch of the places, and thus felt superior to all future viewers of the movie. i was like, "i ate there last night!" and "that's where that riot because of the naked girl happened!" yeah dont ask.

life is going pretty well on a whole still, although egypt is beginning to wear on me. everything is so much harder to do here... i think my neighbor's comment yesterday exemplifies what ppl go through here:

"the plumber was supposed to come yesterday at 4pm, so he's not THAT late by Egyptian standards"

frustration. and it is really hot outside. and people NEVER STOP BEEPING THEIR DAMN HORNS. its like a whole other way of communicating - they dont use them out of anger like they do in the states so much... its more just a friendly reminder to the other cars that, yes, theyre still there. sort of a "im coming up next to you where there isnt a lane but no big" or "im going to make this totally illegal turn across trafic, so despite the fact that i know that all laws of physics say you shouldnt be able to stop in time, im beeping to encourage you to try at least" or to pedestrians "i suggest dodging. now." or theyll just be sitting in traffic and theyll decide that they dont really want to be sitting there anymore, so theyll beep. which will encourage all of the cars around them to beep. a whole medley of beeping. now in the states this would be foolish because likelihood is, if the traffic is stopped, there's a reason it's stopped and beeping wont do anything other than piss off the ppl around you. in egypt however, because there are no stop lights (or rather, there are no stoplights that anyone pays any attention to), there are actual policemen controlling traffic flow. the beeps are drivers way of telling the policemen that they think theyve been stopped for long enough. and the policemen listen - probably because there is always the danger that the policemen are next in the line of traffic controls the drivers will stop paying attention to, and the traffic here will degenerate into total chaos. but that would just give egypt more personality, right?

so i guess my "honeymoon stage" is over. bummer. and now, according to the international student services office, my feelings towards egypt will degenerate into loathing for everything egyptian and/or non-american. something to look forward to? hopefully i wont swing that far. i just need a treadmill. treadmills cure all ills.

ok now i have class for 4 hrs. yay! look at my positive attitude.

Oh the irony...

so if i have one issue with cairo (and i do. in fact i have more than one issue. but lets not get into that now), its gotta be this: i have work. work? you ask

ok before i go on with this id like to point out how awkward that sentence is. really, the question mark should go after the word "work". however, when i say that sentence, the voice inflection comes at the end of the sentence. hm. dilemma. moving on...

work you ask? what is this thing called work? now i totally understand where youre coming from bc that is EXACTLY what i said - and i am equally confused. to be honest, i dont think ive had actual real day-to-day work since...well...(if this was a conversation there would be an awkward pause here because i literally cant remember when the last time was. it couldnt have been highschool...could it?) anyway suffice to say im used to having mamoth papers or presentations, which allow for relaxation during a procrastination period, followed by a frantic day/few days/mumkin a week of actual necessary work. now at middlebury i did have hw due everyday, but the hw was easy enough that i could squeeze the natural pattern, ie total lack of brain function for most of the day after class followed by a reluctant semi-focused period when the hw got done, into the single day where i wouldnt actually have to start work until 11pm. and even after that id still be in bed by a reasonable hour. i know. mad skills, right? cairo, however, seems determined to disrupt my natural student behavior. i have arabic hw every.single.day. and more, bc i have chosen the masochistic route once again, the hw is actually difficult (read: impossible, and will continue to be impossible until i catch up the 5 chapters i am behind) and when i start it at 11pm, i am unable to get my required 8hrs of sleep. oh no. as has been proven the last couple of nights, starting hw at 11pm when you have 8am class leaves you 5 hrs of sleep tops, and makes you a generally bitter person.

so, with the help of my well-honed powers of perception, i have come to the realization that this is part of auc's conspiracy to suck the fun out the lives of young americans everywhere. and its working! bc i have started (and this is horrible) readjusting my schedule to allow more time for work. i know i know. im so ashamed. but how ironic is it that its going to take auc to teach me time management skills. oh stanford. how i do miss thee.

anyway...so today was exciting. 8am three hour arabic class. pain. we had to bring in pictures to practice using a certain grammatical structure, and i brought in my 10th grade prom picture of me and taha. random, what? taha was, still is i suppose, this gorgeous pakistani boy....-dreamy sigh-. havent talked to him in a while. we made quite an attractive couple though i must say...following this i went to sign up to take a trip to alexandria next weekend (yes my life is ridiculously awesome) but when i got there and tried to pay the $54 fee to go on the trip - this includes the hotel room, food and transportation btw. third world countries are fun - i reach into my purse to get out my wallet and dum dum dummm my wallet isnt there. i am absolutely certain the level of panic i experienced upon this discovery cost me at least 6 days my life. god had originally planned that i would die on a wednesday. now, unfortunately, im going to die on the thursday before that. watch that friday be the day they discover that dinosaurs never actually went extinct and instead have been living in caves underground, maliciously controlling the oil supply. "ha! they think theyve run out of oil. look at them squirm."

anyway it turns out my wallet fell out of my bag in my arabic class. i found it lying on the floor in the empty classroom, waheeda. thank god i stopped to check in the classroom before heading back to the apartment - i doubt it would have stayed lonely for long and some very lucky janitor would have found himself with a bit extra spending money as well as my credit cards, drivers licence and all 3 of my auc student ids which would have taken bloody FOREVER to replace. so yes. al-humdilallah i managed to avoid this particular catastrophe. althogh i would have gotten to have one of those hysterical scenes where someone has to throw a glass of cold water at me.... ive never gotten one of those. oh well maybe next time.

so post-wallet recovery i finally got around to going to check out this potential gym membership they apparently have at the ramses hilton here. ive been avoiding it bc, despite the hotel being within sight of the university, it is impossible to walk there without getting run over. scientifically proven to be impossible. so i need to take a taxi and id never gotten a taxi by myself before and i was kind of scared... but after the terror of losing my wallet, the fear of being raped and sold into the eastern european sex trade seemed petty in comparison. of course my taxi driver once again didnt really seem to know where he was going beyond being sure that he should not be going in the direction i could have sworn the ramses hilton was in... no big. i sort of sat back and figured that getting lost in cairo by yourself was just one of those experiences every girl should have. i did eventually get dropped off at a hilton... im not sure it was the right one. their membership didnt include use of their pool which is a must though, and i dont know if i can pass as a guest for a full year. youd think someone would get suspicious. here's hoping all white ppl look alike. anyway i had lunch by myself in a restaurant near the hilton and the waiters were really nice to me... they were probably hoping id take one of them home or something. and then i got jipped by a goorgeous taxi driver on the way home. but i forgave, because im willing to spend an extra dollar to buy that smile. wow. maybe i was a creepy old man in my past life.

and tonight we're doing greek food in a rooftop restaurant with the guys (apparently we have a "the guys" now?) and then our supposedly-weekly falucca boat ride. and then no class till 3pm tomorrow... things are looking up.

ps- the good witch of the north by everclear. that is all.

I bet there's rich folks eatin in a fancy dining car...

i need to find that car in cairo. that is my quest.

I SAW ABEER TODAY!!! (for those of you not insane enough to have locked yourself in middlebury all summer, she was my teacher. my adorable egyptian teacher :) ) but yes. i saw her today when i was walking down the stairs from my arabic class and she looks exactly the same. -hum of happiness- not that she should have changed in the past two weeks or anything...but middlebury feels like forever ago. my goodness where does the time go. im getting old.

speaking of, my arabic class is going to EAT MY LIFE. my teacher is this tiny little egyptian lady who really is probably the least intimidating woman ive ever met. however, she is very organized, and organization by itself can be a very frightening thing, especially when she is carefully organizing out your. entire. life. and i am SO behind in this class - 350 vocab words + grammer - so i definately anticipate my edible little life disappearing for the next little while. more likely, my sleep with disappear. damn you xtine for making that an option; before you i would have sacrificed everything from schoolwork to my pet hamster (its a hypothetical hamster ppl calm down) before i gave up sleep. now its just another way i waste time. ill sleep when im dead. ha. right. if i have options of what to do when im dead, i doubt ill choose sleep. unless the alternative is burning in the firey depths of hell.

soo yeah...i went on a falucca boat ride wednesday night! falucca boat rides are, well, boat rides. on the nile, specifically. it was a good time. cheap wine, funny people. they overcharged us, we undertipped them. the usual. we might make it a weekly event. lets see how long we can go before someone falls in.

thursday night we (dum da da dummmmmmmm) had guys in our apt for the first time. i know arent you excited? im actually excited for our guards. oh have i not mentioned them yet? we have guards. theyre not really here for our safety... well, not our physical safety anyway. moral safety perhaps. they are in charge of visitors - we have "male-visiting hours" between 4pm and 1am. they have to check in. we have to leave the door open. theyre only allowed into our front room, never into the back rooms. and the guards do check. oooh yes. but i understand, right? its hard work keeping us loose american women in check. although honestly the 4pm thing confuses me - i mean, ok. keep us chaste by making sure the guys dont spend the night. but before 4pm what exactly do they think we're doing? ill leave that up to you to decide.

as for the weekend... we went out. smoked a lot of hooka (ps cantalope hooka = gods gift to...me, i suppose), made drunken idiots out of ourselves at least once because, i mean, one must keep up appearances. lets just say -insert culturally diverse story here- and leave it at that, shall we?

so the one main problem with this lovely apartement arrangement is the whole food situation. and i dont mean 'whole foods' like the store. i dream about whole foods. my 'prince charming sweeps me off my feet' fantasy has been replaced by images of costco. mmm brand name products. grocery stores around here ... yeah. at least there are fixed prices. we think. now whether the fixed prices for idiot westerners are three times the fixed prices for normal egyptians is something id rather not think about. either way i could probably afford to buy most of these grocery stores in their entirety without my parents noticing a significant dent in the bank account. which is not, by the way, reassuring. the average store around here consists of a tiny hole-in-the-wall room with a few cartons of unrefrigerated juice, a box or two of cereal and fruit that you really want to buy but which you know eating would involve dying a painful death. oh and there are always a few random things that were obviously imported about 30 years ago and are still waiting to be bought. theyll sit in those straight-from-america boxes with mold growing on the corners on the top shelf in the store and remind you of the lovely consumer-based life of which you are now deprived. i saw an easy-bake oven once. that was fun. the stores are dark and probably look more dirty than they are, but the dark smears on the floor can only be ignored for so long. and the men working in them always feel the need to comment on what you're buying. or just comment on you. either way i miss the steril anonymity of american stores - who am i kidding: of american LIFE . i dont WANT ppl caring who i am or what i buy. dammit. i want to be ignored in a hygenic environment. is that so much to ask?

there is one grocery store called alpha mart on zamalek that at least tries. its sort of like the cairo version of walmart. meaning it sells more food than you would normally find in an american kitchen as well as the occasional household item including such necessities as champagne glasses and lacost shirts. so why is this grocery store not sufficient? well in theory it is - its going to have to be - but its a decent distance away and because we are shopping for 6 girls the amount of food we have to buy when we go, even if we only go once a week or something, is quite a lot. so it sort of turns into an extravaganza of shopping with a couple of shopping carts piled to the point of disaster (which i have experienced. twice.) and then of course none of us really know how to cook so we want to buy lots of things we can eat without preperation, or with as little preperation as possible. sadly enough, the american microwave dinner has not yet made it to egypt. i bemone its absense on a regular basis. not that i have a microwave. oh no that would be much too easy. so my general point is: we never have any food in the apartment. we order in. a lot. but what it boils down to is that in a pathetic attempt to feed myself lunch i just tried to cook 4 frozen fish-sticks (the only thing left in the refrigerator) and instead managed to spray myself with boiling oil, drop all the fish-sticks on the floor, and almost burn the building down. who knew that spatulas were so hard?

ok im going to go be productive. and listen to johnny cash. wish me luck.

The Wall of Shame

its friday morning(ish), depending on your definition of morning, and its my only day without 8am classes. woot. i only have class in the afternoon. life is good. although im sort of disapointed in myself - i set my alarm for 2:30pm but i woke up on my own around 11:30. wtf dude. that was barely 9 hrs of sleep.

so the first day i walked back to my apt from class i was walking with my roommate mara. just after we had left the university campus we passed this sketchy looking egyptian dude who did the whole mutter-things-under-his-breath act as i walked by. i couldnt hear most of it but it was something about how edible i was. mmmm american girls yummmy. parilee would understand. anyway, i ignored him bc i havent quite gotten up the courage to do anything ese yet, but he took this as an invitation to walk up next to us and say "welcome to egypt". now this is one of those stock phrases that every egyptian in egypt knows how to say. its either this or "you are very beautiful" that i get from virtually all but the absolute most creepy guys out there, who usually have something muuch more interesting to share with you. you have to understand though that despite the fact that this phrase does not look sketch on paper, the tone of voice and the WAY guys say it basically implies that theyre welcoming us into egypt because they expect us to be having sex with them very shortly. at this particular point in time i was tired and irritated so i actually spoke to him, and told him to 'go away'. to my surprise he actually spoke english, and again took me telling him to go away as an invitation to strike up a conversation. obviously my subtlety hadnt survived the culture gap.

creepy egyptian guy: hello? hello! where are you from? (thick thick accent)
me: pennsylvania (i tend to be automatically honest. again, blame it on my mother.)
ceg: where?
me: amreeka
ceg: ooh that very nice very nice! i have many friends from america!

we keep walking, avoiding making eye-contact with the guy. this does not disuade him. probably, he gets this from all americans he approaches and has decided its part of our culture. we eventually establish that mara and i are students at auc and we live in garden city - you might think this was a foolish amount of information to give him, but considering where he found us and what we were walking towards, it was pretty self-evident. but then he asks us what our names are and thats crossing the line a bit (although i dont know why this is so much more personal than knowing where we LIVE. i need to get my priorities straight) before i can come up with a suitable answer though, mara jumps in.

mara: my name is charlotte.
ceg: sharlote?
mara: yeah. and this is brigitta (gesturing towards me)

this was beautifully done, btw. i mean, mara even rolled the 'r'. perfect

ceg: breegeeta? this is spanish name?
mara: no i think her parents just liked it. but everyone calls her birdie.
me: (whisper to mara) birdie??
ceg: yes this is much better name. (looks at me) you look like birdie (nods approvingly)

i look like a birdie? i dont know how i feel about that.

ceg: my name is muhammad. (surprise surprise, right?) muhammad abdul somethingorother. but you can call me jordan.

well thank you muhammad, i appreciate you taking a totally random western name to make it easier for us simple americans. from now on im going to introduce myself as "rachel. but you can call me fatimah"

muhammad, or rather, jordan, then proceded to walk with us. and walk with us. and walk with us. until finally we had reached the street that we live on at which point mara and i turned around and very obviously said, 'well thank you very much for walking with us jordan. nice to meet you.' and started to walk away. this was not what jordan wanted.

jordan: wait you have cellphones?
me: no we havent bought them yet. (blatent lie but honestly what do you want from us)
jordan: you have house phone?
me: yes but we dont know that number yet. sorry.

i think jordan might at this point have picked up on our less-than-eager attitude towards giving him, well, anything. as a result he decided to reassure us.

jordan: i am very respectable man. i have card. (every bloody person in egypt has a card. they love giving out cards) here. have card!

he gives us both a card. we thank him politely.

jordan: will you call me tomorrow?
mara: ...dont get your hopes up.
jordan: will you meet me tomorrow at auc for coffee? 5 o'clock?
mara: probably not. you can always give it a shot though. bye!

mara and i walk off down the street. (you might have noticed i did not contribute much to this conversation. i was almost crying i was laughing so hard. i think the egyptian guy might have thought i was retarded or something)

mara: is he following us?
me: (do a really awkward glance over my shoulder.) yes. yes he is.
mara: awesome
jordan: (having been seen, he gives up his less-than-subtle stalking and runs up to us) i just, i just dont want to miss this chance!
me: ummm
jordan: you do not have cellphones?
me: no
jordan: please to meet tomorrow for coffee!
mara: sure. right. bye

awkward?

so we taped his card to our wall and started our "wall of shame". good times in cairo.

Part 3 - 8am? oh please like the world actually exists at 8am.

ok third and final part and then ill be totally caught up to where i should be. sweet. look how dedicated i am to this.

youre welcome

sooooooo today was my first day of school. unfortunately i was without a loving mommy to see me off, but the way i was stumbling around the apt, i probably couldnt see straight enough to appreciate her anyway. 8am fushah. faantastic. i actually left early with merrit to get coffee before class, although what i really needed was a direct injection of caffine to the system. what i got instead was a iced frappe or something equally useless with a "shot" of coconut flavoring. it was so sweet i could actually feel my teeth disintigrating.

i got to class on time only bc i had the good fortune of running into the provost himself, who was kind enough to walk me to my class. awkward? it was lucky i ran into him though. while my simple mind had assumed i could just walk up the main staircase to the fourth floor to find room 409 in the main building, the actual route made far more sense. we climbed up to the second floor, then instead of continuing on up the stairs we took an abrupt turn to the right, turned a corner and followed a winding corridor down to the end of the building. there we took a flight of stairs up to the fourth floor (somewhere along the winding corridor, the second floor had mysteriously transformed into the 3rd floor) and from there we walked to the other side of the building, went out onto the roof, and finally came upon my classroom. the provost got lost once - apparently one of the staircases moved. hogwarts much? only less cool and magical and more just ridiculous. nice view from the roof though.

my arabic class was awesome. god bless middlebury - despite being 5 chapters behind where i should be, im still ahead of the other kids in terms of general comfort with the language. so i managed to avoid making a total fool of myself in class, although i did ask my teacher what verb وقت was. i thought it was a past tense first person.. lol. my bad. she was like... wokt? time? and i crawled under my desk and died. i can only imagine where i would have been placed without middlebury. arabic negative 2 and a half.

from there i went to the bookstore which has - YES! - fiction books!! which made my life. i was absolutely terrified cairo would be like riyadh with one english language bookstore and i would be stuck reading christopher pike the entire time i was here, and return to stanford retarded. no comments on that, thank you. the bookstore even had a fantasy section. i quite literally did a little dance in the store in front of the fiction bookcase which quite entertained of a bunch of nearby eyptian kids, adding yet another facet to the american stereotype. i bought "miramar" by naguib mahfouz in honor of his funeral. im sure he'd be flattered. im really excited about reading it... i wanted the first book in the cairo trilogy too but i couldnt find it so i think im borrowing it from a friend. such ambition. we'll see what i actually end up reading.

and then i had the spendid good fortune of running into annie (friend from middlebury) so we had lunch and bonded and then did lots of paper work together... such good productive little children. and then i came home and...wait for it...slept through my next class. my mechanical engineering side came out when i apparently re-set the clock itself instead of setting the alarm. im impressed. are you impressed? im impressed.

but no big deal everything is chaos now anyway and nothing ever happens on the first day of class. right. just keep telling yourself that rachel. but tonight my master plan is to sit down and teach myself a chapter out of el-kitab 2 in a feeble attempt to catch up to where i should be. seeing how often i actual follow through with my master plans im kind of excited to see what is actual going to happen tonight...

arent you?

Part 2

there was this guy in the registration office today who i want to be my friend. he was this blond haired white kid, but other than that he had nothing in common with anyone id ever met before. his hair was a work of art. he had greased it back against his head, and it was so well-slicked, you could actually see the comb marks in it. his entire head of hair was flat against his skull except the very bottom where he had a collar of little curls - the sort of curls you would find on an expensive french dog, id say - around his neck and around under his ears. his outfit was equally interesting: he was wearing a light blue polo. now this was not baby blue my girlfriend picked this out for me im not afraid to show my feminine side light blue, this was im wearing this color bc it was the only one left in the store and nobody else would buy it light blue. no wait im giving him too much credit. he definately went out and bought this color on purpose. thought went into this outfit. this was im a MAN light blue. im a PLAYA light blue. girls melt at my FEET light blue. and to match it he had pale, fitted jeans that were just metro enough to show that he thought he looked damn good in them. to top off the outfit he was wearing a pair of aviators. indoors. i watched him walk back and forth across the office a few times, and the first time he disapeared into the depths of the office, he came back with his collar popped. i can totally see him glancing at himself in a mirror, checking his teeth, fixing his hair, and noticing with horror that his collar had come un-popped. he quickly remedies the situation and then acts cool. dont worry my dear. i was the only one that noticed your brief moment of shame. i bet you havent been able to find anyone to starch your collars in cairo, have you? aww miskina. i feel your pain. afterall without a popped collar who are you? nobody, thats who. nobody.

so yeah i registered for classes yesterday. it was a success in that yes, i am now taking classes. more, they are classes that i am interested in. im taking fushah (classical arabic), amiyah (colloquial arabic), international relations in islam and gender studies in islam. and i am riDIculously excited. i used to fantasize about classes like this at stanford. going to stanford was sort of like dating a guy bc he had such a great rep only to discover that while he might be a great kisser, and he while he might have the money to take you out to entertaining places, he's totally lacking in the personality department and makes you laugh only by accident. so while you might have fun with his friends and appreciate the trips to hawaii, you're going to end up dumping him to take a year in egypt and date a local taxi cab driver. (i am a taxi driver in calcutta)

i apologize if you didnt get that reference, but you should really look into that bc youre missing out.

quick side note: i am madly in love with stanford and have never considered transfering despite my frustration with the lack of classes in my area of interest. besides, all the cool kids go to stanford.

anyway so my classes are amazing. however, i have an 8am four days a week. coming from a girl who's earliest class was 1:15pm last quarter, this SUCKS. mostly bc, despite my dire need for sleep, i think i may be somewhat unable to make myself go to sleep at a reasonable hour. case in point: last night. now i had planned to go to sleep at 10pm or something since i had gotten virtually no sleep the night before and i wanted to be somewhat awake for arabic class. instead, i went out with a bunch of ppl to a hooka bar and didnt get home until 2am. my time management skills leave something to be desired. the hooka bar was fun though - its called "scream" but despite that shadiness it was actually rather nice. you just have to ignore the cave-like decour. cantalope hooka = yum. they also had this delishess mango juice that was more like a smoothy with actual chunks of mango in it. for any girls out there, quick sidenote - do NOT order this drink on a first date. very difficult to drink with sophistication as a result of the mango strings. may have caused my nickname to change from sassy to sloppy. will keep you updated.

Part 1 - Blog Tawil: you do not need to fear the camel

did you know living in cairo is like smoking 3 cigarettes a day for the entire time youre here? no anti-pollution laws, lots of sand, i can hear my lungs caving in now.

anyway i figured id split this blog up into 2 parts since itll probably be pretty long as i havent written in a few days and i tend to ramble... ill try to stick to the highlights- i dont want to bore you and im lying in a kind of uncomfortable position on my couch right now.

soooooooo orientation at the red sea. i repeat: god loves me. we were staying at el-goona (no im sure thats not how you actually spell it but im also sure i dont care enough to go look it up so if youre that curious email me) its this spot on the red sea on the egypt side about 5 hr south of cairo by car. we were staying the movenpick hotel and, let me tell you, i have been to some nice places in my life and this definately rivaled most of them. the place was GORGEOUS - the architecture the blue blue (very clear, surprisingly) sea that swear to god looked exactly like the sea out of the very last scene of the little mermaid when the sea is soo sparkly and you assumed that the artists were making it look unrealistically beautiful? oh no. one of them had visited the red sea on a good day. (and dont diss the little mermaid references. yeah i know what youre thinking) the sky that was exactly the same color blue as the sky in riyadh. the clear, cloudless, breathtaking true sky-blue that doesnt happen on the east coast. ever. and this wonderful cool breeze blowing in off the water...mmmm yum. of course i burnt myself to a crisp in an effort to gain a beautiful tan which no one will be able to appreciate. itll be a race to see which gets me first - the skin cancer or the lung cancer. lets place bets. woot.

the organization of the trip was classic. they had us leaving at 2am, riding a bus all night and arriving at 9am the next morning. perhaps a conspiracy to make sure we were too tired to get into trouble? or they probably just didnt want to pay for the extra night at the hotel. either way it didnt matter all that much - you dont need that much energy to fall asleep in the sun. so we all met up at 1:30am outside of the campus gate. and of course they had to shuffel the lot of us (all 350 of us) in and out of the university main campus a few times and then herd us all into a tennis court before splitting us up into groups which were organized alphabetically. by first name. i was in p through r and there were 3 rachels in my group (surprise surprise) along with like 5 variations on phillip, this is also the room system they used so 3 out of the 4 sarahs were rooming together and i was with one of the other rachels... at least it made it easy to remember your roommates names. i think our last names are just too much trouble for auc to bother with. one of my friends who isnt officially in the study abroad program (she's at the arabic language institute, an affiliated prg) argued her way onto the trip. when she was finalizing the arrangements over the phone the man (muhammad, of course) asked her what her last name was and she was like "P-A-" and he cuts her off and says "you will be michelle ali". awkward silence. "umm, ok?" and thats what they called her for the rest of the trip.

the hotel was beautifully westernized. or rather, "europeanized" as the egyptians would say. no decency necessary whatsoever. indecency encouraged. maybe they think americans bond better with their clothes off.

they could be right.

either way it was a lovely break from the stifling amount of modestly required in cairo. covering my shoulders is such a burden. i am so abused. and the hotel was just FUN. although they made you pay for all liquids which was kind of weird - free water with dinner? psh. but the food was delish and it was fantastic to be able to eat fresh fruit without anticipating face time with the toilet bowl a few hours down the line. i ate pears! mmmmmmmm pears. you ppl dont appreciate pears the way you should.

oh and i made a conquest- best part of the trip hands down: there was this guy with a camel at the beach saturday. he was giving ppl rides for a fee on what was, btw, the absolute cleanest camel i had ever seen. virtually shining. the amount of time that guy must spend cleaning his camel.. i dont even want to think about it. but anyway, so a few of my friends wander over the get rides and pet the camel. im not a huge camel person, and ive seen how far they can spit so i was hanging back a bit and the camel guy comes up to me. he was goodlooking if you like arab guys - which i do - but this was probably the second most awkward conversation ever:

camel guy: (thick arabic accent) would you like to pet my camel?

ok i just want to point out there that that would make an awesome pickup line, just in general. i recommend it to all guys out there. use it in the bars. girls will fall over themselves

me: no thank you
camel guy: are you afraid of my camel? you do not need to fear the camel
me: no im not scared i just...dont want to
camel guy: (looks deeply into my eyes and pauses for a few seconds) you are first real woman i have seen in long time
me: (astonished)
camel guy: your eyes so beautiful
me: (laughs. nervously.)
camel guy: your smile lights up the beach!
me: um. thank you. (walks quickly away)

it was awesome. and was quickly followed 20 min later by what was definately the most awkward conversation ever - when i was sitting with some friends for lunch, he comes and finds me again. leading his camel.

camel guy: (to the girl sitting next to me) do you know how lucky you are to sit next to such beautiful flower?
friend: (looks at me. looks back at the camel guy. looks at me again.)
camel guy: her eyes are like sky. i could swim in those eyes. i see the whole world in her eyes!
me: (at this point ive sort of turned away, buried my head in my hands, and almost sufocated in an effort to keep from laughing in his face. maybe my mother just raised me well, but i felt like it would be rude not to be somewhat impressed with his proclamations)
camel guy: (to me) why do you turn away? a woman like you should not be shy (the camel chews a bit on his shirt)
me: (frantic whisper to my friend - "what should i do??? make him go away!" i mean, yeah, it was hilarious. but i was also totally embarrassed and i had NO idea what to do. he had me cornered)
camel guy: (still waxing poetic. i think it was about my mouth now. and dolphins? did he mention dolphins?)
friend: (to camel man) please stop
camel guy: i cannot! if my mouth stops, my heart stops.


i mean, honestly, who IS this guy?


friend: (to me) tell him you have a boyfriend!
me: (oooh good idea) thank you very much sir but i have a boyfriend (no seriously look how well my mother raised me)
camel guy: oh he is luckiest man in world! if i see him, i give him one hundred camels!
-awkward pause. he wanders off-

im not entirely sure what he expected me to do in reaction to his stunningly original compliments... buy a camel ride? either way, he pretty much made my day. in retrospect it probably would have been funnier if i had played along...except he might have thrown me over his camel and ridden off into the desert and that would have been less funny.

oh i also went go-carting with some friends. SO much fun i dont know why i havent done it before. although apparently its a bit different in egypt... perhaps the lack of safety regulations makes the difference? either way i guess the go-carts went a LOT faster. and we didnt wear seat belts. but we were wearing these mamoth helmets which im sure made up for it. i went around 10pm saturday night with some ppl on a whim...didnt exactly dress for it. the cars are really low-to-the-ground and you put your feet in pedals on either side of the steering wheel. one quick recommendation from a girl who has experience: DONT wear a skirt. i definately gave the go-cart guys a bit of a show and the only way i could really fix my skirt so it didnt blind me while i was driving or, more importantly, get me arrested, was something sort of along the lines of a loin cloth arrangement. so picture this: giant black astronaut helmet, cute coach purse, bright red loincloth. hot. no wonder the rest of the world thinks americans are weird.

anyway it was amAZing such an adrenaline rush i was on i high for the rest of the night. and the track was sweet - lots of really tight turns that are impossible to do at full speed but you do it anyway bc we all have a bit of a death wish, dont we? or at least the ppl studying abroad in cairo do. the trick to really enjoying yourself is to expect to drive full speed into the side of the track, and be okay with that. because you know if god wills it you'll crash no matter how fast youre going so you might as well have fun getting there... but i only lost control of my car once when i took at turn a leetle bit too quickly and skidded. i did like a 180 or something. now with my mad skills i WOULD have been fine, but unfortunately the girl i had just passed - thus the need to get around the turn quickly - slammed into me and the go-cart ate my leg. i have a bruise thats bigger than a bread basket on the inside of my thigh - it didnt even have my skirt ot protect it. looks like my caironian husband is already beating me.

umm from go-carting i met up with another group of ppl at an irish pub. you know, bc when in rome... right. drunk on the red sea at an irish pub -

friend: oreed vodka katheeer fee drink-ee. katheeeeeeeeer (makes hand gestures accordingly)
waiter: laughs. (thinks: stupid drunken americans)

(rough translation -
friend:i want a lot of vodka. a LOT of vodka. get me trashed. go.
waiter: i think you guys understood that part)

there is also a rather amusing story involving the beach at 2am and a couple of drunken guys who decided to go skinny dipping. it was totally black out but they were trying to describe who they were to me.

drunken boys: we have 6-packs
me: awesome.
drunken boys: no seriously. feel!

and it was true. they did. very nice ones in fact. 2 thumbs up to that. of course i have no idea what their faces look like but ill keep my eyes out for the nice abs...

oh and ive been nicknamed "sassy" by a group of guys here. wtf? im sort of ashamed.

and im back again striving to keep up the daily bloggingness.

so i just found out auc offers scuba diving. how frickin amazing would that be. and we'd do field trips and stuff... my life is so sweet. i must have been really good in a past life. or slipped god a few piasters in the waiting room.

i bought fresh flowers today with my roommate for our dining room table. they are gorgeous. and they cost $3, significantly adding to their appeal. the flower guy was really cute too in a sort of scared way - i think michelle (roommate. tall. thin. gorgeous. i seem to collect them) and i made him really nervous. but he gave us each a free rose which is cute, if unoriginal, so he's on my good list. we think we mightl go back there every week. fresh flowers... i am so domestic. mumkin my soccer mom future shining through? ha. right.

aanyway so guess what i did tonight. no nevermind you will never guess. unless you are like my older sister who read my aim away msg, completely ruining the surprise. very inconsiderate of her. i went to my very first...wait for it...BOY BAND CONCERT. yesss. think n-sync then subtract the dancing, add in decent music and then make them arab. presto! you have WAMA. each letter stands for one of their names. isnt that adorable? just smile and nod.

so the concert was in the cairo opera house and to get their we took the metro. which, by the way, i did not know existed. but not only does it exist, its actually really clean and relatively sketch-free. relatively because, i mean, there are men there. but they have a women's only car so we didnt have to find out whether the good, muslim men would be able to resist us scandelous american girls in close quarters. and the opera house itself was soo nice. very riyadh-esk. lots of lighting. concrete. fountains. although there were a few ancient-egyptian statues that would have been unexpected in saudi arabia. when we first go there we were actually worried we were at the wrong place bc it gave off a classy-sort of feeling, and ive never really associated n-sync with a classy atmosphere. fortunately, however, we were wrong. we paid all of $4 to get in. i heart egypt.

i guess the most interesting aspect of this concert was the fact that there was pretty much an even mix of girls and boys there. the pop music in the united states tends to target only one gender. in fact, pop musicians tend to really only attract the stereotypical screaming, pre-pubescent girls to their concerts (with the possible exception of a certain friend of mine (coughtherussiancough) who kept going far past that age.) the guys that actually listen to pop music tend to lock themselves in their closets, turn down the volume, and jump at small noises. i have a friend who made a mix where r kelly's remix to ignition was the first song, and some backstreet boys song was the second. we'd be driving along blasting the r kelly with the windows down, and then when the backstreet boy song came on he'd roll up the windows and turn down the volume. a guilty pleasure. but the guys at this concert, who were all between the ages of about 13 up to 25, were totally unashamedly worshiping WAMA. the whole stadium ended up standing on top of their chairs, and the guys were up there right along with the girls, screaming, jumping up and down, almost killing themselves, no big deal. i think its because homosexuality is so off the radar here just because it is SO taboo, that guys dont have to worry about the stigma that might come with listening to pop music in the states. you go egyptian boys! you be proud of liking that pop music. and i wont ask what goes on at the after-parties.

so today we had an all-day on-campus orientation in preparation for our 3 day off campus orientation which starts tonight at 1:30am. we're going to the red sea. raise your hand if your school has ever had its orientation at the red sea. yeah. i win. it was a kind of funny experience. first of all, it was the first sort-of success that auc has had with organization. clap. clap. clap. what was REALLY amusing though was the attitude taken by the administration. the woman in charge has been the woman registering auc kids for classes. (oh sry for those of you not middle east-obsessed auc = american university of cairo) and the ONLY thing i have heard about her - i havent registered yet - is how much of a total bitch she has been to all of the students. very unaccomadating, very into public humiliation. basically what ive gotten from ppl is that she's generally not a very nice person who probably deserves to burn in hell for all eternity but will probably end up with the requisite 79 virgins instead. her attitude mutated for this orientation though and she talked for a really long time about how she loves the students and she hopes we'll come to her with any problems and how she has chocolates on her desk and her lobby is air conditioned and do we want to sit on her lap? (that last bit was my own addition. come on. honestly. that would just be weird.) but there is no way in hell this woman thinks any of the students have any feelings for her beyond the natural hatred they feel after she crushed their dreams when she denied them the classes they wanted. devil woman. so my conclusion is that no one is that oblivious and therefore she must have a really ironic sense of humor. maybe i like her anyway? ill hold off judgement until monday when i find out that the only class left with any opennings is basket weaving. basket weaving at auc. hey, its a story.

and i also have a story about the "beverages" we are and are not allowed to bring on this orientation trip and the pre-gaming we actually did for the bus ride (yes we are lame i know. but we have fun so shut up) but that all will have to wait until after i get back from this awesome spend-all-day-getting-skin-cancer-hopefully-wont-get-blown-up-by-terrorists orientation trip. will update on when i get back my dears!

You're just going to have to trust me.

ok so since i actually got scolded for not posting yesterday, i am now writing a blog despite the fact that its 2:15am and i am le tired jiddon. or rather, giddon i suppose.

where to begin where to begin. i suppose that is the danger in not writing everyday. everything oozes together in my mind to create one great mushy memory of heat and cute clothes. what did i do the last 2 days? ok hold on im trying to remember.

ah yes. so yesterday i slept in until 2:30 in the afternoon. it was glorious. not setting an alarm is a truly liberating experience. even if it does mean skipping the tour of your new college campus. psh. people who actually know their way around live incredibly boring lives.

oh i fell down the stairs btw. did i mention this to you? there are these marble spiral stairs in one of the campus buildings. swear to god the steps arent actually parallel to the ground. they slope downwards, which means walking down them in flipflops (read: cute but frictionless) can be an adventure. basically, i managed to slide down about 20 stairs, choosing, of course, to wait just until there are enough people around to cause true humiliation. my sophisticated veneer barely survived. barely. it probably was not helped by the fact that i was wearing a skirt. by the time i reached the bottom of the stairs i did not pass anyone's but perhaps the french's test of modesty. i had a similar experience at breakfast earlier this summer. it didnt involve stairs but i ended up in about the same position. i need to either stop falling over or to re-think my clothing choices.

oh. and i also managed to shatter a window in my apartment. and i mean SHATTER, as in there is no more glass in the window frame except for one lonely little fin-shaped shard at the bottom. and i exploded a juice carton at the grocery store. well, it exploded by itself, with a little help from gravity and one of my elbows. awkward. i dont think ive done much for the less-than-flattering american stereotype just yet. still working on it.

anyway i had my first clubbing-in-cairo experience last night. woot. we went to the odeon palace hotel. very chic. its this roof-top bar, with a goorgeous view of cairo. it took us a while to get there since our taxi driver didn't know where it was and, of course, spoke no english. not that we knew where it was either, so i dont know whether english would have helped but somehow it lends a certain feeling of comfort. he pulled up at another hotel and i understood enough of the conversation to warn the other girls in the car that yes, as expected, he had lied to us when he said he knew where he was going and no, the other hotel guy didnt know where it was either but he recommended just driving into downtown and asking people on the streets for directions. which i guess i didnt really have a problem with except i probably would have prefered just to stay ignorant and make the logical assumption that our taxi driver, as a man who makes his living off driving people around the city, might actually know his way around the city.

but we made it there eventually and spent just enough time in the lobby of the hotel waiting for the other girls to arrive to make the hotel staff reeally nervous. although this didnt stop them from adjusting their security camera to point at us instead of the door. the actual bar itself was really nice, blah blah blah. we had to tip a guy to get toilet paper for the bathroom, but i suppose you win some you lose some. we tried "stella" which is the "beer of egypt" according to the billboards. i really dont know how much that says. and we had apple sheesha and felt very middle eastern. the liquour in the turkish coffee was a nice combo also. soo we just sort of hung out and had girls-that-live-in-apts bonding time. which is always helped along by alcohol. and ridiculous picture taking, many of which will hopefully soon be posted on facebook for all of our viewing pleasure. oh, and some of the other girls knocked over their sheesha and almost set the building on fire. but it WASNT ME. and i was rather proud of that.

oh and i was describing one of my friends - i wont say who - to one of the other girls when i had another one of my memory leaks. they asked for his name and i was completely unable to give it to them! nope. had no earthly idea what it was. i could picture his face in my head. could remember every time id hung out with him. and could not, for the life of me, remember his name. this was a guy i lived in the same dorm with for an ENTIRE YEAR. yeah. and this isnt the first time this has happened to me. its like sometimes the little nerve endings that store information in my brain are just a tad bit slippery or something. or every once in a while one of the connectors will morph from puzzle-piece form to tiny woman holding on to only the hand of a really fat man dangling off a cliff. and theyve both been hiking all day. in cairo. and she never liked him that much anyway. and its almost easier for her to just...let go.

or maybe im just going prematurely demented.

or maybe thats what dementia IS - when the nerve endings in your brain change from cute little children being frantically held on to by their loving mothers (the puzzle pieces) to fat unattractive men who would be doing the world a disservice if they reproduced.

i think i might just be tired.

but basically what im trying to say is we had a lot of fun clubbing. and we left the hotel at some hour in the morning (nothing too late wouldnt want to traumatize the caironians) and created a huge scene just by walking down the street. it was ridiculous; literally every man (and there were only men out at this hour) on the street turned, stared, and catcalled at us IN UNiSON as we walked down the street. it was almost like a musical - i expected dancing and was disapointed. and then we went home and played jenga. another good bonding game. and ate trailmix. and i must say it was overall a fantastic way to finish the evening.

so that was yesterday. and i am much too tired to write too much about what i did today so i will give you only the highlight: we watched 8 episodes of season 1 of 24. in a row. and it was beautiful. i dont think ive ever screamed at the characters of a fictional story so much in my life. and i tend to interact with my television characters (and book characters, and movie characters, much to the dismay of the other ppl in the movie theatre. specifically my mother.), so thats saying something.

ok i am exhausted and not seeing entirely straight. planning on sleeping in tomorrow. and then cleaning the bathroom with our NEW CLEANING SUPPLIES. which was a whole different adventure. which you guys will probably never hear about. so come up with something exciting for me, would you? awesome.

Well now that you mention it an Egyptian husband does sound rather appealing...

Hello again! wow 2 blogs in 2 days. rachel must be bored, you think. but i say ha! rachel is in cairo! and boredom in cairo is about as likely as peace in the middle east.
...too much too soon? ill try to contain myself.

soo my first full day in cairo. rachel strides fearlessly out into the city. well, sort of. i had company - two girls next door were also taking the placement test and were planning to get coffee beforehand, so i of course invited half the hallway and a whole group of us took off towards the university this morning. safety in large numbers. yes.

ive been trying to pinpoint the exact differences between cities in the states and cities in the middle east. on first glance, the exotic-? (exoticness? exoticity? right) the exotic feel of the city is kind of overwhelming. but one specific difference i noticed today was the number of people, specifically men, in the streets of the city. and, i mean, you'll get people in the streets of cities in the US, but most of them are GOING places. places to be people to meet and whatnot. the majority of the people here, however, really dont seem to be doing anything. theyre just, you know, hangin out. men will literally just have pulled a plastic chair up next to the road and just be sitting there. its like people watching is a national past time. and while normally i wouldnt have a problem with this, here the people theyre watching is ME. and they dont just watch. oh no. they comment. the whistle. they hiss. they propose marriage. and its all fun and games until someone gets hit by a car bc they were too busy staring at my scandalously bare arms to pay attention. not that thats happened. but im just saying

anyway so we went for coffee and by the time we finished our 10 min walk to the university i had just about passed out from heat exhaustion and couldnt manage anything more than a bottle of water. oh, and the man in the cafe and i have a less than successful conversation.

man: (in reeeeally accented english) for here or to go?
me: pardon? (in my very proper little accent that always seems to pop up when i have no idea whats going on)
man: for here or to go?!
me: im sorry i dont speak arabic
man: (getting frustrated) la la la for here or to go???
me: im SORRY you dont have to get mad at me but i DONT SPEAK.....

at this point what he had said had finally worked its way through my thick skull and i announce "we're staying!". of course the man has given up on me at this point, and i say it uselessly to his back and then wander off to find a table. for someone who's spent SO MUCH TIME in other countries surrounded by people with accents as thick as the cloud of dust that hovers over cairo, devouring our happiness, and men's manners, you'd think my comprehension skills would be at a slightly higher level.

did you notice that metaphore? yeah. i thought you did.

ps its not really devouring my happiness. it just makes everything a little hazy. and it isnt very friendly to my clothes. but its ok, theyre used to it because of my ACTIVE LIFESTYLE. what.

anyway so i took my arabic placement test and they put me in arabic 211 which is awesome...except the class starts 5 chapters ahead of where i left off. and at 60 vocab words per chapter plus grammer... pain. but its either that or 201 which only meets 5 hrs a week instead of 10 and only covers like 8 chapters in the entire semester. decisions decisions. just how willing am i to torture myself? ha. stupid question.

so i was the first person to leave the placement test. nothing new there. i got bored of trying to understand passages that were, well, incomprehensible. and post placement test i was a goodgirl and did all my paperwork etc. ps i totally didnt need any of the receipts and whatnot that they had told us we NEEDED to bring on. pain. of. death. typical. oh, and i cant register for classes until sept. 4 which means i probably am going to end up taking like econ or something equally ridiculous. (lol sry cat) i wonder if i could switch to all arabic if i dont get into the classes i want? oh the possibilities. but the classes offered are sooooooooooooooooo cool im ridiculously excited and why doesnt stanford offer anything even half as cool? for a college rated 2nd in the world by newsweek, i must say i am disapointed.

so after paperwork and whatnot one of my many roommates and i went with some girls i picked up (yes i pulled the "hey pretty lady want to go for a ride" line) to a really truly authentic egyptian bazaar! oh the excitement. so this pretty much sums up my experience:

desperate shop man: (heavy accent, but understandable) hello! ahlan! please come into my shop! special price just for you!
rachel: no thank you (i am very polite at all times)
d.s.m.: do you want discount?
rachel: no thank you
d.s.m.: do you want half off? everything half off just for you
rachel: no thank you (at this point i was walking away bc there is only so long you can actually listen to these ppl. in fact i had really given him a lot more time than he deserved - most of the time you just have to ignore them or they will grab you by the hair and drag you into their shop and force-feed you discounts)
d.s.m.: DO YOU WANT EGYPTIAN HUSBAND??

now you'd think that there would be an awkward silence after this in the bazaar, but no. this is normal.

oh and i was supposed to have dinner with a friend tonight but she DITCHED me so im having dinner with my roommates but in my quest to have dinner with my plan A i experienced my first solo-walk through downtown cairo. lets just put it this way, i was even honked at by the guy driving the pizza hut moped. i mean honestly, how low have you sunk when even the pizza hut guy thinks he has the right to honk at you? or is that an elitest attitude. well i also got asked "kem touride?" by a pre-pubescent egyptian boy which translates to "how much do you want?" no, despite my incredible beauty and obvious class, i am not a prostitute.

and on that note.