Ground Floor (warning, this post contains pictures of bugs)

This is a picture of the bench right inside our building.  This is where our building's boab (attendant) sleeps when the weather gets cold.  He tends to go to sleep about 8 at night.  If you arrive home past that time, you wake him up.  Sometimes it feels like living under your parent's roof again.  He's not sleeping there now, which is why this bed looks made.  In the winter, the blanket is usually wadded up (messy boab:)).  I thought about making it for him when I leave the building, but come on, he's a grown man!  It is not cold right now, so he sleeps outside on a bench.  

Below are a couple of pictures of common things I find on my floor...

chicken and ants and...

roach and ants!  YUCK

Christmas in September

I have been thinking about Christmas today.   I know, it's September, but I have been thinking about it for 2 reasons.  The first being that we will be going home before Christmas and the count down has begun.

With 2 months left, we are in the process of thinking about what it means to "finish well" and what we need to bring closure to this time in our life.  The last year, as adventurous as it may have appeared to be, has not been without its blessings but equally has not been without its challenges.  I wouldn't say that this has been the ideal situation, especially with amoebas, allergies, chronic diarrhea for the baby (which we are pretty sure now is a wheat allergy) and tachycardia for me.

This brings me to the second reason why I have been thinking about Christmas today.  I have been pondering how unideal the situation was for Mary to give birth to Jesus.

Seven and a half years ago, when  I gave birth for the first time,  I was ready to go!  I had my "birth plan" all laid out on a piece of pretty pink paper (we were having a girl).  I had taken classes. I had my mother, who was a certified childbirth educator and dulah, my mother-in-law, who used to work as a nurse in labor and delivery, a doctor who had appeared 3 times on reality TV shows like A Baby Story, my husband, my friend Jill, and, at the last 30mins, my sister in law Beth.  Besides the fact that my labor was 23 hours, I have to say it was the ideal situation.

Mary didn't have any of these things, except maybe the fact that her husband was there.   Of course, I am not sure if he even stayed in the stable or not for the delivery.  I am thinking maybe not.  The bible says that they had never been together in an intimate way before that, and if I was Mary, I don't think that I could handle it if my husband saw all of my "glory" for the first time as the baby crowned and I screamed.  Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!  Who knows though.

I have no idea what her attitude was.  Maybe she complained about riding 9 months pregnant on a donkey, I know I would have.  When I was only 8 months pregnant with Luke, I saw a Christmas nativity here in Egypt where a woman, clad with a pillow under her costume, rode in on a real donkey (they are, after all, readily available here:)).  I looked down at my gigantous belly before me and thought, Poor mary!  Poor, poor, Mary!  Maybe she looked at the stable and thought, 'you have got to be kidding me...can't we just try one more Inn?'  I do know that en epidural was way out of the question, as well as a hospital, gowns that tied in the back and a well schooled doctor.  Really, think about it...Poor Mary!

Looking back at the story, I do know, as "unideal" the situation was, it was the absolute perfect way for Jesus to enter the world.  It fact, it was written years earlier that this is exactly how it would happen.  Mary simply walked through it.

As I think about our time here, I know in my heart everything that has happened has all been part of the absolute perfect "unideal" plan that God has had for us.

We don't know what the next step will be.  We don't know if we will ever come back to call Egypt our home.  Maybe we will end up somewhere else entirely.  This I can be sure of, as unsure as the future seems to us right now, God still has the perfect, "unideal" plan for us, because that is when the amazing things happen.

The Black Smoke

I know this title may remind you of the TV show Lost, but this wouldn't be a blog about Cairo, Egypt, unless I mention the fall occurrence of "The Black Cloud."  Egypt grows much of it's own rice.  It is short grain white rice and makes great sushi.  Before you boil it, you need to rinse it and fry it a bit so it doesn't stick together.

Every year, after the rice harvest, the farmers start to burn the leftover rice plants and depending on which way the air is blowing, sometimes it gets trapped in the busy and crowded Cairo.  Here is a BBC report on Cairo pollution from last year.  Watch it, because I can use any sympathy you can spare.:)

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/8324024.stm

Saqarra

I know I have mentioned it before, but Saqqara pyrimids and the Omar Sharif mini-documentary there are favorites.

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I heart the country

This just in...the camel hump is so last season!

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What do I do?

Bad news...I have to get my wisdom teeth out.  I tried to once, but then got pregnant so I had to wait.  I don't really want to talk about it because I am very anxious over it.  The dentist told me that they have grown so well that when I get them pulled there is a chance my face will go numb.  Ugh!

Anyway, while I was waiting in the dentist's office I came across this page of fashion advice, but it is all in Arabic and I can't tell what's wrong with the "Don't" pictures.  Could someone from the western world clue me in?  After all, it has been a year since I have been bombarded with what's "in" :).

New Ramadan Clothes! What more can a child wish for?

comfort items

If I was stranded on a deserted Island, like in survivor, my one comfort item would be......a dishwasher!  Well, I guess I would need dishes if I was stranded on an Island to put in my dishwasher.  I would also need electricity to make it work...and running water.  But if I was stranded in Cairo my 2 comfort items would be a dishwasher and a dryer.  At this point, I would be willing to trade my refrigerator for a dishwasher.  Except, the refrigerator belongs to the landlord and it leaks anyway.

If I could choose one item in my house that didn't leak, I would pick the refrigerator.  Yes, even though every facet in our flat leaks and even my two boys leak where they are not supposed to, I would still pick the refrigerator.  I thank God for tile floors...and my husband who changed the litter box this morning (I knew he did it because I could hear him gagging).  If I had to choose between roaches in my flat or a cat that hunted down and killed the roaches, I would pick the cat, even though she's fluffy and sheds.

I was washing the dishes the other day and I thought to myself...I totally can imagine what Martha in the Bible must have felt like.  She had hers and Mary's and Jesus' and everyone else's dishes to wash and she had probably washed a bunch of dishes the day before getting ready for company.

Speaking of company, the other day I told the kids to pick up the living room and Jubilee came in and whispered to me, "Mom...you want to know a secret to get Luke and I to clean up the living room without complaining? ".  WOW, Good News, Good News, stop the presses!  Of course I do, and this is what she said in her little whisper that tickles our ears so badly we can hardly stand to listen, "Just tell us company is coming over."

I am not sure how I feel about that.  Does she only see me clean when guests come over?  Because some days I feel like all I do is clean and pick up after the kids.  In fact, blogging helps me feel like I do something other than just clean.  I know that if I don't stop picking up and go out every so often, I will have nothing to blog about.

Someday soon, my children will be old enough to wash the dishes themselves, and clean up their messes and be potty trained.  Until that time, a deserted island sounds really nice with or without a dishwasher.

PS:  I do have company coming over tomorrow but this post has nothing to do with that.  I actually wrote it a couple of days ago and am posting it now.  So if you are a guest coming over tomorrow, this is not about you:)!

Pocket Change

I don't want to write about Egyptians today.  I want to write about foreigners living in Cairo.  There are many reasons why a foreigner moves here.  Some work for the government or oil companies.  They are on the top of the expat food chain here.  They live in the nicest flats and (somehow) get American TV.  Some are here to do volunteer work or work for NGOs.  Some are on a quest for personal fulfillment.  My husband recently met an American woman who was trying to break into Egyptian movies and television.  Most heart-breaking for me are those who leave their children and come to work very hard to be able to send money back to families in other 3rd world countries so that their children might have a better life than they had.

For whatever the reason, there is a small Egyptian community that caters, more or less, to these people.  There are stores where you can buy Skippy peanut butter, kimchi, and bacon.  There is even a rumor of a company which delivers alcohol to your door.  The delivery guy drives an unmarked scooter and carries the wine in a paper bag so that none of your neighbors will know that you drink hamra.

Anyway, the foreigners that live here are all very different and are from all over the world but have one thing in common, they all stick out like a pig at Ramadan.  Wherever you go, you can bet that the local people are watching you.  That, my dear friends, is a lot of pressure.  

For the most part, all of the foreigners I've met here have been wonderful people.  There are times, however, that I have seen foreigners "lose it".  For example, one time I saw a lady yelling at a server because her "to-go" salad looked a bit wilty.  Another time, a man raised his voice when he had to repeat himself three times when asking how much something cost.  I remember thinking to myself, "Have a little patience, Oh Fellow Foreigner.  They are just trying to help you!"

It is always common that whenever I go out I get "special" treatment because I am a foreigner.  It may come in the form of being over-charged for a taxi.  Or I may have people cut in front of me in line.  And on those extra special treatment days I may even pay 5 times more than the locals for certain items.

One of my biggest cultural pet-peeves has really has nothing to do with being from another country.  About 90% of the time I buy something I am asked if I have change.  The ATMs here spit out bills that equal about $10 to $20 and that is usually all I have.  I don't have anything smaller, because anything smaller I give to the taxis.  If I give the taxis the larger amount they will not give me all of my change.

It is not really a big deal.  I expect it to happen and I try to plan for it.  But the feelings that come from each of these small experiences of special treatment build up over time.  So the other day, when the man behind the counter asked for change, I felt It!  

At first, it was a small whispering voice that floated in my thoughts.  But as I stood there, the voice began to get louder and louder until it was a silent scream. I DON'T HAVE CHANGE!!!!!  STOP ASKING ME THAT AND THEN GIVING ME A LOOK OF SHAME WHEN I SAY NO!!!!!!  

Luckily, I was able to push those feelings back down again...this time.  But it is so easy to let the little things pile up, isn't it?  That's why every foreigner should have at least one other foreigner to be able to vent to.  Not to dump on, but to help sort through the trash.

Unfortunately, the outbursts are all that one sees of a person.  It is so easy to judge that person by this one interaction.  I know that the next time I witness a traveler tantrum, I will not be so quick to judge.

come on...everybody's doing it.

I am not fasting for Ramadan...today I felt like I was fasting.  I didn't really have breakfast and at 2pm I still had not eaten.  I was about to go grocery shopping.  I know, DANGER-never go shopping on an empty stomach.  There is a food-court by the grocery store, but no one was really eating there and after not really eating, the thought of McDonald's or Hardee's (Carl's Jr. overseas brother without bacon) did not appeal to me.  I opted for a sandwich from a little coffee shop.

I really didn't want to eat in public.  I really wanted to be sensitive to my surrounding neighbors.  Unfortunately, I had two seating choices...the seat inside the window facing the crowds or the table outside in the mall where the crowds were walking.  Either one was bad.  I chose the non-smoking seat and watched all the people walking by give me disappointing looks.  There are certain times that women don't have to fast...say, when it's THAT time of the month.  I had a taxi driver ask me if I was fasting once...I thought, that question is a little personal.  What if I was and it just so happened to be that time...then he would know that it was that time.  I told him, not today, maybe tomorrow.  To which he answered: in-sha-allah (lord willing), which is what I should have said in the first place.

I think I've seen your face before

this little light

This is a picture I find beautiful that my sister in law took when she visited.