Read me a story!

Today I sat down to read a book.  This isn't really a noble task, however, since my 2nd child Luke was born 4 1/2 years ago, I can't remember actually finishing a single book.    This book, just so happened to be a children's book, and no, I didn't finish it either.

I started reading If Your Name Was changed At Ellis Island by Ellen Levine.

Since we live in Egypt, I thought it was time that my 2nd grader got caught up on American history.  Actually, she was playing a computer game while I was reading it, my 4 year old was busy with a paper airplane kit he had received in the mail from his Grandpa, and the baby was busy climbing into the sinks.  This is a newly discovered skill as of today.  I was reading it out loud, to myself.

I read about the people that left their homelands to move to America.  I read about families being separated.  I thought about my relatives and wondered what kind of tickets they had and how long their trip was.  Why did they choose to leave?  Was it due to famine, war, persecution?  I read about the long, hard trip, filled with cramped sleeping spaces and sickness.

I finally got to the part about the Statue of Liberty and put the book down.  My husband looked up at me and asked, "Why did you stop?"  I couldn't answer him.

Then I heard the baby making noise in the kitchen and hollered, "Theo, get out of the sink!"

To which my husband replied, "Wow, that's amazing!  How did you hear him?"   I hadn't, I was just too embarrassed to answer him truthfully about why I stopped.  When I didn't answer him, he asked me again, "Seriously, how did you hear him?".  Tears, involuntary, started to rolled down my cheeks.  My husband looked at me and, as if he were treading in a mine field, asked, "Why are you crying?"  I opened my mouth but couldn't get the words out.  They stuck in my throat.  Finally, he pleaded with me, "April, please, what are you crying about?"  I pointed to the book.  He smiled and said "Honey, It's a children's book."  Then remembering the mine field, he asked tenderly, "What is it that made you cry?"  Laugher mixed with tears as I realized that he was right.

"It just hit me about all the hardships people went through to get to America.  They had to sell everything except what they found most precious, leave family, and endure horrible things for the sake of a better life.  I don't think I can read anymore."

To which he replied, "Just keep reading," and gingerly retraced his steps until safety was achieved.  I was left to process just why this book caused such an emotional response in me.  

I think the reality was that I could imagine how they felt when they saw "Lady Liberty" for the first time.  I know what it feels like to leave family behind and try to make a life for yourself in a land that isn't yours.  Most of the time I don't think about it, because my life fills up with...well, life.  I don't really know much about who made those sacrifices, but their choices changed the course of my life.  In a hundred years from now, little will be known of me.  My name and a few pictures will probably be all that is left, if that.  I don't aspire to leave a legacy.  I just hope I will make choices that will bless my children's, children's, children.

There it is, another unfinished book to add to the list.

When I grow up...

Growing up among wild flowers has caused me to bloom into what some would call a free spirit.  I had a professor ask me once in college what I planned to do with my life..."just flitter around?".

Anyone would be a free spirit if they grew up here...

"Wow, that is one tall mountain!"

(Actually, I am pretty sure they were saying, "Dad, we don't want to pose like this anymore!")

When people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, my list included the following:  an art teacher, a marine biologist (who didn't?), a detective/spy (I loved Nancy Drew and later wanted to become Mrs. Remington Steele), an archeologist and so on and so on.  

By the time I went to college, I wasn't sure anymore.  I decided to major in Theater and somehow, I minored in archeology.  Whatever my current career choice was, one thing always remained the same. I always wanted to live in Africa...and a light house.

It's amazing, looking back, the things that excited me as a child still excite me today, except maybe for Remington Steele.  (I'll take my hubby over him any day! Um...it would, however, be kind of sexy cool if he learned how to pick locks:).)  

I have to confess, however, when I pictured living in Africa, never did I imagine living in Egypt.  Even after visiting this dry dusty dessert in college and drinking it's precious water (apparently, if you drink the water you will come back and  marry an Egyptian).   Life just works out that way, I guess.

I think if I wasn't a "free spirit", I probably would have never moved to Egypt, yet alone, given birth to a child here.  If I hadn't grown up in a family with 6 brothers, I probably couldn't handle living in a Middle Eastern country as much as I have.  This next month marks 3 years that I have lived in Cairo, Egypt.  That's a Whole--Lotta-Pita!

fashionable walls

The other day I came across this picture on a blog.  It reminded me of, not only my current peeling walls, but a photo I used to have when I first came to live in Egypt in 2004.  Before I tell you any more about that photo, I must first tell you that I am a person that loves to decorate and rearrange my house.  In a perfect world I would do so every few months.  One of my favorite activities to do when I am bored is to look at home decor magazines, rip out pictures that inspire me, and save them in a purple accordion file box that I keep in my closet.  Sometimes, when I am beyond bored, I pull out that file box and think of messy projects to do (to my husbands horror).  

After years of collecting these beautiful pictures, I have made up my mind that there are some things that are just too "tacky" to live with and I have vowed to never have them in my home.  This list included for a while, artificial flowers.  Please don't get me wrong, I am sure that there are some very beautiful arrangements out there.  I am talking of this type...the kind you buy at a gas station mini-mart.

The problem is, flowers like these are in almost every single Egyptian home.  I knew after my "do I think I could live in Egypt?" visit of 2001, that if I wanted to live in Egypt there were certain things I would have to give up...like my distaste and prejudices over fake flowers.  

When we first came to live in Cairo in 2004, our hope was to live as close as possible to the average Egyptian.  We wanted to dress like them, shop like them, and talk like them.  Since most of the country lives in poverty, we chose a very humble flat in a crowded area on the corner of these two streets to call home...

  Our flat overlooked a butcher shop and when I hung my laundry, the water would drip down the 5 stories into the vats of bloody cow stomachs and intestines below.  The good part about living above a butcher was that I always knew when the meat was fresh because I could see the cow being led into the butcher shop.

In Egypt, when you want to find a place to live, you hire a type of "middle man" called a simsar.  He knows of all the empty flats in the neighborhood.  Once you decide on a place, both you and the owner each fork over 1/2 month's rent to the middle man and, ta-da, your new home.  Since we were new to the area, we had a friend go with us to look at flats and give us his opinion.  I remember walking into one flat totally disgusted by my surroundings.  Poking around, I opened up the oven only to behold a mountain of roaches piled on a plate of pita bread.  We sat down in the living room to drink the customary tea and our friend commented on how nice the furniture was.  I thought to myself, 'surly, this guy is being sarcastic.'  It didn't take me long to realize that he was totally serious and compared to the other furnished flats, it was very nice.

A note about furniture:  I have come to learn that many Egyptians love big Louis the 14th looking furniture, which is very different then our western idea of clean lines.  This style of furniture is also very hard to keep dust free and when you live in a country that is made up of mostly dust, you either have to constantly clean it, or give up.  I have one small table that I love now that I gave up on long ago.  The dust has become it's charm, or so I keep telling myself.

After much searching, we finely found our little dream home in the souk...

This was the open air vent in my tiny kitchen that led down the middle of the building.

Here I am in my new living room (I am amazed at how happy I look here, I think I was laughing at the thought of it all, or perhaps shock.)

Our entryway and concrete floor.  Most walls end up looking like this sooner or later.

Our bathroom.  

(We had to bathe our daughter in a bucket because there was a crack in the tub and when you stood on it a foul smell omitted.)

I can honestly say, that when we moved into this place, any "honey-moon" notions I had of my new life in Cairo ended like squished roach.  A few days later, I sat down on my bed, a mattress placed on the floor, and pulled out my "home-sweet-home" purple file box.   I hoped to figure out a way to make this little hobbit hole a home.  I admit, I was a bit discouraged and as I tried to muster up inspiration, I came across this picture in a magazine that my sister-in-law gave me before I got on the airplane to leave America.

http://www.entertainmentwallpaper.com/images/desktops/celebrity/sienna_miller07.jpg

I tore it out and tacked it up on the wall.  I stared at it for a long time and I thought to myself, if this beautiful person, whoever she is, could live in a place like that, then so can I.  (Of course, I am sure she doesn't live in a place like that and after the photo shoot, she went home to her perfectly beautiful home, washed her hands, and had a glass of wine).

This inspiration/conversation piece of decor, that I hung on the wall, became an important lesson to me:  the uglier and dismal your surroundings, the more beautiful your chance of shining and inspiring the people around you.

Last week a taxi driver said to me in Arabic that I was, "light in Egypt.", and although I may question his motives in saying this, I wouldn't trade that compliment for the most beautiful villas in Cairo.  It also just so happened to be the same day that my husband brought home a bouquet of artificial flowers...that lit up.

Happy Anniversary!

Dear Sweetheart...

    Today marks 12 years since we said "I do!".  What a magic carpet ride it has been: over, under, and sideways!  I never knew that life could be so exciting.  Everyday is more exciting than the last.  I was just thinking about all the great times we have had  falling in love together.

I remember when you asked me to marry you and fireworks went off and angels sang and life was bliss.

 We got together all of our dear friends and celebrated our love by saying "I do".  

Then we moved to Boston and I worked and you went to school and cooked for us and we got really puffy.  Good times!  I loved you then, but I am glad that I am the cook in the family now.

We moved back to California and we loved each other still...and nachos.  

We gave each other the exact same anniversary card...it was a sign!

We continued to celebrate by having our own family together.

We moved our little family to Egypt and it grew.

Our hearts were full!  Then our hands got very full, but there was still plenty of room in our hearts because our hearts had stretched out like my expanded middle.  

I can't wait for the many, many more years of celebrating our love and life together.  

You are a great husband, a great father, and a great man!  

Love, Your Wife.

shhhh, don't wake the baby!

King Tut's revenge or mummy night?  

Tonight my children were really, really tired.  I tried to read a story to the boys to help them settle down a bit, but the baby would scream every time I started to read.  This is what it sounded like:

Me:  Mrs. Tittlemouse liked to keep a tidy...
Theo:  "AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"
Me:  House...
Theo: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"
Me:  but Mr. Frog came to visit...
Theo: "AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!"

And so on and so on.  By the way, today is also Theo's 1 1/2 birthday (I am only counting it because he is the baby).  Anyway, after about five minutes, I finally told Luke that I would have to finish the story in the morning.  That started Luke screaming and I thought it would be best for me to leave before I started screaming.  I kissed them good night, prayed for them during their breaths, and turned out the lights.   Now I am listening to relaxation music, but the music has crickets and frog and nature noises and all it sounds like to me is children fighting with each other.  Oh well.

Today I made an extremely ugly dress by scratch.  Joe said it would be perfect for a shepherd in a Christmas play.  Should I do a blog give-a-way?:)  I hope your evening is more relaxing than mine was.

(the kids have been peeling the paint off the wall...nice huh?)

things I saw today

Anybody want a carrot?

and the golden globe goes to...

is that Theo?

Egyptian Blue Man Group

Traffic

The Good and the Bad of it All

I was asked to share this week what I found to be the best and the worst part of living in Cairo.  I thought I would also share here.  Let me start with the worst:).  The worst part, by far, is the lack of nature and the sheer amount of people that are crammed in along the Nile River.  We are talking about 17.8 million people.


     Cairo just so happens to be the complete opposite of my childhood environment.  I grew up barefoot in the mountains, with a small stream and no visible neighbors.   I couldn't begin to count the hours my brothers and I spent I spent picking wild flowers or creating hideouts among the trees.  In fact, I miss it so much at times that I have been known to go online just to look at beautiful pictures of mountains and water.  What really breaks my heart is when my own kids get so excited over seeing a patch of grass on the side of the road that they can't help but throw off their shoes and roll around in it.  


     When we first moved here, I thought it would help to add a lot of house plants to our  home to quench my thirst for nature.  This year I started with 4 plants, 5 counting the one growing up out of our bathroom pipe. 

     Sadly, I have killed all but one.  After these poor plants look as if they are gone forever and I have no choice but to put them outside my door.  The Boab picks them up and takes them outside the building and, as if by some miracle, manages to brings them back to life again.  


In regard to the amount of people, being an introvert, I find living in the largest city in Africa and the Middle East to be a bit draining.  I mean, there are people everywhere!  Even within my own home I have 3 little ones that would love to sit on my lap all day long and play.  At times, I sense an overwhelming urge to hide in my broom closet (and sometimes I have).  I find myself having to push beyond my own strength and comfort when thoughts of being with people seem to be just too much.

     On a happier note, the best part of Cairo also has to do with the existing nature and that same sheer amount of people.  Cairo, without a doubt, has the most wonderful seasonal fruits and vegetables and right now is mango season...mmmmm.

     Also, the blessings of living with so many people in general are exceedingly beyond any anxiety that I may experience. This is especially true, however, when living with people from other cultures, beliefs, economical status, age, etc.  I have found that it within this melding there appears a richness to life that is beyond description.   I imagine it is a taste of what heaven will be like.  Relationships like these become the nourishment that chokes out fear and allows beautiful things to flourish.  

     Like my plants, I realize that I simply can not survive in my small dark flat without others.  There are beautiful and fruitful relationships just waiting to be picked and tasted.  I challenge you today to go out of your way to become friends with people whom are outside your comfort culture.  Taste and see. 

Powder Room Politics

The other day I went to use a public restroom at a shopping mall only to find a sign posted on the door that read, "closed for renovations, please use the restrooms at the far end of the mall".   A bit panicky, my primal instincts kick in and I followed the woman in front of me (who possessed the same look) down a long corridor towards the prayer room.  Fact:  Did you know that no matter where you go in Cairo there is always a prayer room within walking distance?

Anyway, this particular woman wasn't covered or wearing the conservative galabaya, so I was pretty sure she wasn't going in there to pray and I had a sneaky suspicion that she knew of another "WC".  Hesitantly, I asked the prayer room attendant if there was a restroom inside and she nodded yes.

I stepped into a large tiled room with faucets coming out of the wall and a long bench in the center of the room.  Venturing into this mysterious oasis, I took a seat on the washing bench beside 3 other women (also waiting to use the toilet).    A woman pointed out to me that there was water on the bench, but unfortunately, it took a second too long for my brain to translate the Arabic to English (this didn't help my situation).  We sat there and waited.  I knew that walking to the other restroom would probably produce quicker results, but it was so quiet, and outside was so loud that to have a conversation with someone, you had to yell.   Since my husband and the kids were getting ice cream, I decided to look at this time as a mommy time out.  Women came and went.  They washed their feet, behind their ears, rinsed out their mouths 3 times, and fixed their head coverings.  We spent time in idle chit-chat and I enjoyed being apart of this tiny community around me.  As I looked around I noticed that everyone seemed to be having a great time and everyone was taking their time.  I wondered how many of these women were hiding out from noisy children.    At one point, I was surprised when a woman took off her galabaya and revealed a Neon Pink Micky Mouse tank top.  After all, one does wonder what one should wear under one's galabaya :).  I actually felt like I was in high school all over again.  I remember it like yesterday, my friends and I would all go to the restroom at the same time, not because we needed to use it, but just to chit-chat and be together.  Do you think that is another a primal instinct?

The Ugly Duckling gets a haircut-A Poem by me...

Someday, getting a haircut will be a relaxing experience

Someday, my haircut will be exactly what I ask for  

Someday, I will be able to communicate to the stylist with confidence

Someday I will be able to simply say...

 "Um...I really didn't want a mullet!"

Someday, "I am hoping to grow out my hair, so please just take a little off the ends" will not be understood as"please give me lots of layers on the side, but keep the back long and layer free."

Someday, Someday, Someday

However, Someday's not today.

Hurray for Hurgada

We had a fantastic time in Hurgada for our little 4 day holiday.  Although, it was not without culture shock.  We stayed at the Movenpick, which is a Swiss hotel and therefore filled with Europeans.  Here is a sign posted at the pool...

Most women in Egypt wear the burka-tini, I wore a tank-tini with swim shorts, and everyone else adorned themselves with the bikini.  Also, topless sunbathing seemed to be permitted.  There were still women wearing the head-to-toe, but they didn't go swimming at the pool and hung out mostly by the sea.

The other thing that was shocking to me was how tall everyone was.  Even the little children were taller than me.  Whatever is in that European diet, I missed out on as a child.  This is where I confess my one irrational fear is the fear of tall people.  Maybe this comes from growing up in a family of 6 brothers, all taller than me.

This little tall baby next to Theo was just 6 months old and really wanted his bucket back:).

This is a picture of my book cover: (I actually read a chapter.  I have been reading it for a year now.  It's so good, I can hardly pick it up.)

and this is my husbands:

The most fun I had was watching the baby swim in water like a fish out of water.  He was all laughs and flops.  I have to say that the Swiss have one thing right besides pocket knives and watches...ICE CREAM!