Tuesday, October 09, 2007
Converted?
Having a 15 year old sister is fun. She's always wanting to play around with me. Here's what I would look like were I Muslim:
A Glimpse at AUC
Here's where I sit in the afternoons and make phone calls, or do some random work. It's quite pleasant here. It's called the fountain area. The little gathering of grasses in the middle surround a small fountain.
Road Rash
Many of you know that I can be quite clumsy at times. Last night when I was getting out of a taxi last night. As I was stepping back to be on the sidewalk, I failed to lift my foot the 12 inches needed. I fell over, quite gracefully. Here's the result:
Sunday, October 07, 2007
The Story of My Camera
I usually just reply personally to comments (if at all), but Hook's comment on my last post reminded me of a story that I think everyone will enjoy. First of all, I don't remember what kind of camera I have, and it's not with me at the moment... I think it's a Nikon.
Anyway, back in April when I decided to come to Cairo, I had a list of things I needed and a list of things I wanted. On the list of things needed was a laptop. I had been saving specifically for a computer, so I was glad to have the money available.
One item at the top of my "want" list was a digital camera. I wanted a good one, but didn't really want to spend any money on it. I probably could have afforded an inexpensive (i.e., low quality) one... but I didn't want to. I had prayed about my needs, and the thought occured to me that I know a lot of people with cameras, and wouldn't it be great if someone loaned me a camera for 4 months at a time. Pretty unlikely, I know.
A couple days later, I climbed into Jeff's truck, and he asked me if I had a digital camera. When I told him no, he asked me how I would feel about a long-term loan. He happened to have two, one of which he hadn't even taken out of the package and came complete with rechargable batteries (and a battery charger). He had it with him, and said, "Here you go." I was surprised at his generosity, as we hadn't really known each other very long.
If nothing else, this experience has been repeatedly teaching me how the Lord provides.
Anyway, back in April when I decided to come to Cairo, I had a list of things I needed and a list of things I wanted. On the list of things needed was a laptop. I had been saving specifically for a computer, so I was glad to have the money available.
One item at the top of my "want" list was a digital camera. I wanted a good one, but didn't really want to spend any money on it. I probably could have afforded an inexpensive (i.e., low quality) one... but I didn't want to. I had prayed about my needs, and the thought occured to me that I know a lot of people with cameras, and wouldn't it be great if someone loaned me a camera for 4 months at a time. Pretty unlikely, I know.
A couple days later, I climbed into Jeff's truck, and he asked me if I had a digital camera. When I told him no, he asked me how I would feel about a long-term loan. He happened to have two, one of which he hadn't even taken out of the package and came complete with rechargable batteries (and a battery charger). He had it with him, and said, "Here you go." I was surprised at his generosity, as we hadn't really known each other very long.
If nothing else, this experience has been repeatedly teaching me how the Lord provides.
Saturday, October 06, 2007
Leaving Cairo
After a firm admonition from my mom, here is a new post. In my defense, this week has been quite busy, and I got a cold. Most of my free time has been spent sleeping, or trying to sleep.
On Thursday afternoon, I went with my family to a place outside of Cairo. It was some conference... "Dad" invited me along because I told him I was considering a trip with school for next weekend, but it is quite expensive. So I went with the fam. It was a little awkward for me because I was not a formal conference participant, but it turned out okay. I think. The point is, I got out of the city!! I couldn't believe how quiet it was, especially at night. We could hear crickets! Plus, I got a million and one more mosquito bites. It looks like I have chicken pox.
The pictures were taken randomly. The landscapes are taken from the roof, and the other pictures are inside the conference center. And some cityscapes of the drive there :-)
On Thursday afternoon, I went with my family to a place outside of Cairo. It was some conference... "Dad" invited me along because I told him I was considering a trip with school for next weekend, but it is quite expensive. So I went with the fam. It was a little awkward for me because I was not a formal conference participant, but it turned out okay. I think. The point is, I got out of the city!! I couldn't believe how quiet it was, especially at night. We could hear crickets! Plus, I got a million and one more mosquito bites. It looks like I have chicken pox.
The pictures were taken randomly. The landscapes are taken from the roof, and the other pictures are inside the conference center. And some cityscapes of the drive there :-)
My first glimpse!
The conference center.
This is taken from the roof. Notice the red dates on the palm trees. And thanks to my zoom lens, you get a glimpse of village life.
Inside the center again. I was trying to be artistic, like Jeremy. Perhaps I was mildly successful.
Inside the center again. I was trying to be artistic, like Jeremy. Perhaps I was mildly successful.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Making Dinner
Yesterday I made dinner for my host family. The menu was spaghetti with garlic bread. Everything started with shopping. Most things were easy to find, but I didn't know the Arabic word for basil (I do now!). Once we figured it out, I realized I had to order by the kilo, and if not by the kilo, then by the gram. I only needed a little bit! I spent one pound, and bought enough basil to last a year!
I got home and realized I'm very much my mother's daughter. I spent about an hour cleaning the kitchen before I felt I could start working. If there was a dishwasher, it would not have taken quite so long!
I started cooking, and my host sister was helping. She kept suggesting all these weird things, like adding pepper to the ground beef to take away the raw meat taste. I told her that the raw meat taste will go away once it's not raw anymore. After a while, I gave in and let her add pepper, as I would add it anyway. She also tried to insist that the water was boiling when it was still at all the little bubbles stage. I didn't let her put the pasta in! Finally, the oven is gas, so it doesn't have any heat directed from the top. The bread was toasty, but not from the top, like I'm used to. Overall, however, it was quite tasty. The sauce I bought was pretty sweet, which I don't prefer, but I think it was good anyway.
We also bought a box of brownie mix for dessert. This is a treat, because the imported foods are quite expensive. Unfortunately, someone had turned off the oven, so when I went to check them they weren't cooked. I started the oven, and everyone forgot about them. They were quite burned! We ate the middle part anyway :-)
I got home and realized I'm very much my mother's daughter. I spent about an hour cleaning the kitchen before I felt I could start working. If there was a dishwasher, it would not have taken quite so long!
I started cooking, and my host sister was helping. She kept suggesting all these weird things, like adding pepper to the ground beef to take away the raw meat taste. I told her that the raw meat taste will go away once it's not raw anymore. After a while, I gave in and let her add pepper, as I would add it anyway. She also tried to insist that the water was boiling when it was still at all the little bubbles stage. I didn't let her put the pasta in! Finally, the oven is gas, so it doesn't have any heat directed from the top. The bread was toasty, but not from the top, like I'm used to. Overall, however, it was quite tasty. The sauce I bought was pretty sweet, which I don't prefer, but I think it was good anyway.
We also bought a box of brownie mix for dessert. This is a treat, because the imported foods are quite expensive. Unfortunately, someone had turned off the oven, so when I went to check them they weren't cooked. I started the oven, and everyone forgot about them. They were quite burned! We ate the middle part anyway :-)
Thursday, September 27, 2007
The Metro Mall
Every day on the Metro, I have an opportunity to buy something. This morning it was socks, and this evening it was sheets of stickers and Koranic tracts. It’s quite interesting. Peddlers get on the car, and sell their things in one of two ways.
The women usually have bags of stuff and shout out what they are selling as they slowly make their way down the car. I’ve seen socks, hair thingys and other accessories, make-up, galibeyas (kind of like mumus), and plastic table covers.
The other vendors are boys or teenagers, who walk down the train and put something in everyone’s (or almost everyone’s) hand or lap. They sometimes skip people who are sleeping or reading, but sometimes not. They sell things like sheets of stickers, religious tracts, or other random little things. Usually they skip me, and I felt quite blended in the first time they gave me something. It was a bracelet-type thing made from hematite (that black, shiny stone). I think it was a prayer rope, like a rosary, because I saw the girl across from me counting the beads.
What strikes me as strange, is that people buy things! The woman this morning must have sold about 30 or more pairs of socks while we were standing there. I think they were 5 pairs for 10 pounds, or 2 ½ pounds each.
I have yet to buy anything, but if something strikes my fancy, I’m not hesitating!
The women usually have bags of stuff and shout out what they are selling as they slowly make their way down the car. I’ve seen socks, hair thingys and other accessories, make-up, galibeyas (kind of like mumus), and plastic table covers.
The other vendors are boys or teenagers, who walk down the train and put something in everyone’s (or almost everyone’s) hand or lap. They sometimes skip people who are sleeping or reading, but sometimes not. They sell things like sheets of stickers, religious tracts, or other random little things. Usually they skip me, and I felt quite blended in the first time they gave me something. It was a bracelet-type thing made from hematite (that black, shiny stone). I think it was a prayer rope, like a rosary, because I saw the girl across from me counting the beads.
What strikes me as strange, is that people buy things! The woman this morning must have sold about 30 or more pairs of socks while we were standing there. I think they were 5 pairs for 10 pounds, or 2 ½ pounds each.
I have yet to buy anything, but if something strikes my fancy, I’m not hesitating!
Adjusting
I’ve been in Cairo over a month now. (Only 82 days left till Winter Break, for those counting!).
I keep wondering when I’m going to adjust to life here. When will I get used to the Sunday – Thursday work week? In my mind, Monday is still the dreaded work day, except now I say Monday when I should say Sunday. Church is on Friday, and I still say, “In church on Sunday…” I know I shouldn’t be too hard on myself and that four weeks won’t blot out 27 years of culturalization, but still. I’ve managed to tune out all the noise, unless it is impossible (like the blaring horn just outside the classroom today). And I find myself trying not to stare at foreigners. They stick out so much! I wonder if I stick out like that.
I feel like I’ve been here forever! I think such a huge change has brought that feeling on. This week I’ve felt like I’m in a daze, just floating through my classes and not really being there. I’ve been forgetting random things (meetings, class photo, etc) and I’m lucky to catch them without being completely unreliable.
I’m already tired of the daily commute. I’m tired of being sweaty all the time. Even though Fall is well under way, it is much like summer at home. Afternoons in the low 90’s, and at night it doesn’t drop below 70°.
Okay. Enough complaining!
I keep wondering when I’m going to adjust to life here. When will I get used to the Sunday – Thursday work week? In my mind, Monday is still the dreaded work day, except now I say Monday when I should say Sunday. Church is on Friday, and I still say, “In church on Sunday…” I know I shouldn’t be too hard on myself and that four weeks won’t blot out 27 years of culturalization, but still. I’ve managed to tune out all the noise, unless it is impossible (like the blaring horn just outside the classroom today). And I find myself trying not to stare at foreigners. They stick out so much! I wonder if I stick out like that.
I feel like I’ve been here forever! I think such a huge change has brought that feeling on. This week I’ve felt like I’m in a daze, just floating through my classes and not really being there. I’ve been forgetting random things (meetings, class photo, etc) and I’m lucky to catch them without being completely unreliable.
I’m already tired of the daily commute. I’m tired of being sweaty all the time. Even though Fall is well under way, it is much like summer at home. Afternoons in the low 90’s, and at night it doesn’t drop below 70°.
Okay. Enough complaining!
Reminiscing Pink Martini
The other night I was self-indulgent. I usually end up staying up way too late, grading papers, reading, or just listening to my own thoughts about everything that needs to be done. Instead of doing that, I played computer games and listened to all three Pink Martini albums.
As I was listening, I started remembering everything associated with this band over the last few years. The first time I heard them, I was late to work. I stopped to give some guy a jump and ended up driving him to a gas station. While I was waiting, Pink Martini was in the KINK live performance lounge (www.kink.fm, my favorite radio station). After hearing a live version of Hang on Little Tomato, I was hooked.
I went out and bought the album. Christine and I started watching them on PBS whenever possible. She bought me their first album. I raved about them to all my friends.
Michelle, knowing how much I love this group, invited me to a company event at the zoo last October where Pink Martini was supposed to perform. We had a lot of fun, eating and drinking the free stuff, and waiting on the lawn for the show to start. It never did. The main guy disappeared and the show was cancelled.
The make-up concert was December 23 at the Schnitz. Michelle was out of town, so she gave me the tickets. Christine and I had so much fun!! We are such geeks, we went home, turned on PBS, and guess who was on J
Then Jeff, before we were dating, knew how much I liked them and bought tickets for the new album debut. By the time the show came, we were able to make a date out of it. Dinner before was wonderful; I had lamb at Red Star. The concert was fun, as expected. Jeff bought me the new album, and we danced in the seats along with everyone else.
Finally, Jeff, being the wonderful man that he is, bought tickets for a July concert at the zoo but was unable to attend. I took Amanda with me, and we got the VIP treatment. The concert was sold out by the time Jeff bought the tickets, and all that was left was VIP. It was wonderful! Reserved parking, a reserved blanket, dinner and dessert served, and souvenirs! Amanda and I had fun watching everyone dance in front of the stage. There were some humorous, some creepy, and many tipsy couples.
Last week I was at a coffee shop in Cairo, and I heard a Pink Martini song. No kidding. One of my classmates knows the band.
Ahhh. The memories. If you haven’t heard Pink Martini, I suggest you go right now, and buy all the albums!
As I was listening, I started remembering everything associated with this band over the last few years. The first time I heard them, I was late to work. I stopped to give some guy a jump and ended up driving him to a gas station. While I was waiting, Pink Martini was in the KINK live performance lounge (www.kink.fm, my favorite radio station). After hearing a live version of Hang on Little Tomato, I was hooked.
I went out and bought the album. Christine and I started watching them on PBS whenever possible. She bought me their first album. I raved about them to all my friends.
Michelle, knowing how much I love this group, invited me to a company event at the zoo last October where Pink Martini was supposed to perform. We had a lot of fun, eating and drinking the free stuff, and waiting on the lawn for the show to start. It never did. The main guy disappeared and the show was cancelled.
The make-up concert was December 23 at the Schnitz. Michelle was out of town, so she gave me the tickets. Christine and I had so much fun!! We are such geeks, we went home, turned on PBS, and guess who was on J
Then Jeff, before we were dating, knew how much I liked them and bought tickets for the new album debut. By the time the show came, we were able to make a date out of it. Dinner before was wonderful; I had lamb at Red Star. The concert was fun, as expected. Jeff bought me the new album, and we danced in the seats along with everyone else.
Finally, Jeff, being the wonderful man that he is, bought tickets for a July concert at the zoo but was unable to attend. I took Amanda with me, and we got the VIP treatment. The concert was sold out by the time Jeff bought the tickets, and all that was left was VIP. It was wonderful! Reserved parking, a reserved blanket, dinner and dessert served, and souvenirs! Amanda and I had fun watching everyone dance in front of the stage. There were some humorous, some creepy, and many tipsy couples.
Last week I was at a coffee shop in Cairo, and I heard a Pink Martini song. No kidding. One of my classmates knows the band.
Ahhh. The memories. If you haven’t heard Pink Martini, I suggest you go right now, and buy all the albums!
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Explosions, Bruises, and Other Strange Happenings
The weekend was quite eventful! After playing Dominoes for 3 hours on Thursday night, we went out for ice cream. On the way home, "dad" let me drive! It was quite exciting, and felt weird after a month of not driving. However, I did great and we made it home safely.
On Saturday morning the shower exploded. Let me explain. The hot water heater is right next to the bathtub and when the water is turned on, the pilot light ignites the flame that heats the water as you shower. When the water is turned off, the flames are supposed to go out, leaving the pilot light again. Well, I turned off the water, and the flames didn't go out. I was looking at it, and noticed a strange smell and odd noises. As I was reaching over to turn off the gas, it exploded. All kinds of vapor came out (turns out it was just water). I screamed, and once I realized I wasn't hurt, I jumped out of the bathtub (bruising my shin in the process). Dad came running in (I had the presence of mind to grab a towel!). Most of you know, I am NOT a screamer. I don't think I've ever screamed so loud in my life - my throat was sore, and I was pretty shaky. I guess this happened once before, a couple months ago. I have no idea why it exploded, but it was pretty scary.
Last night I was in my room, and managed to stab myself in the heel of my foot with a sewing needle. I have no idea why it was on the ground, but I ended up backing my heel onto it. I couldn't walk for a few minutes. Today it's a little sore!
Finally, I was walking home today, and almost got hit by a motorcycle. The driver was stupid. We were heading toward each other, but I had a parked car on my left and a moving care on my right. I had no where to go! The motorcycle squeezed by me and the car, almost taking me out in the process.
So that's been my life for the last couple days... will it ever settle down?
On Saturday morning the shower exploded. Let me explain. The hot water heater is right next to the bathtub and when the water is turned on, the pilot light ignites the flame that heats the water as you shower. When the water is turned off, the flames are supposed to go out, leaving the pilot light again. Well, I turned off the water, and the flames didn't go out. I was looking at it, and noticed a strange smell and odd noises. As I was reaching over to turn off the gas, it exploded. All kinds of vapor came out (turns out it was just water). I screamed, and once I realized I wasn't hurt, I jumped out of the bathtub (bruising my shin in the process). Dad came running in (I had the presence of mind to grab a towel!). Most of you know, I am NOT a screamer. I don't think I've ever screamed so loud in my life - my throat was sore, and I was pretty shaky. I guess this happened once before, a couple months ago. I have no idea why it exploded, but it was pretty scary.
Last night I was in my room, and managed to stab myself in the heel of my foot with a sewing needle. I have no idea why it was on the ground, but I ended up backing my heel onto it. I couldn't walk for a few minutes. Today it's a little sore!
Finally, I was walking home today, and almost got hit by a motorcycle. The driver was stupid. We were heading toward each other, but I had a parked car on my left and a moving care on my right. I had no where to go! The motorcycle squeezed by me and the car, almost taking me out in the process.
So that's been my life for the last couple days... will it ever settle down?
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
A Difficult Day
Today was rough. I knew it would be, at 1:30 this morning as I was falling asleep and planning to get up at 8 am. Wednesdays are long for me, as I'm in class (teaching and taking) from 11:45 to 3:00 without a break. I went to bed earlier than 1:30, I just couldn't sleep. I woke up at 2:15 to apply cream to my 9 mosquito bites. I woke up at 3:15 with the call to prayer. I woke up at 6:00 to a strange sound in my room. I looked around, couldn't figure out what the sound was, and went back to sleep. I woke up at 7 am and found out what the sound was.
Here's a picture of my room:
Apparently a pipe burst or something, right above my bedroom. The water was even leaking out of the building. I came home around 4, and this is my bedroom from the inside and out:
Here's a picture of my room:
That is not dark blue paint. It's water. The following two pictures were taken at 7:15 and 7:45:
Apparently a pipe burst or something, right above my bedroom. The water was even leaking out of the building. I came home around 4, and this is my bedroom from the inside and out:
So my brilliant plan to get up early and finish the readings for class today didn't work. I had a meeting from 10-11, during which I found out I shouldn't do what I had planned for my class that day (at 11:45), so I had to scramble to get tomorrow's lesson ready for today. Of course, the computer I used had network printer problems, and the photocopy machine kept jamming.
I'm off to take a nap. Maybe then I'll feel like reading a bit. One more day till the weekend!
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Iftaar
Tonight I had dinner (or breakfast, if you're Muslim) with some of the other fellows from school. It was really fun! I see them everyday at school, but it was nice to do something social with them. We went to dinner, and then to Second Cup, the Canadian version of Starbucks.
From left to right: Alice, Tasneen, Neveen, and Heba. It was fun.
At the resturaunt:
Monday, September 17, 2007
Strange signs and other oddities
I think I'm taking this teacher thing a little too far...Here's a fun little quiz for all my readers:
There's a sign I walk by every day. The sign reads, "The Top Of Performance it is not just a slogan but a commitment to our costumer". Which company is it for?
A. National Theatre Company
B. National Cement Company
C. The Metro System
D. National Sewing Company
Egyptians put the following on their pizza:
A. Faheta chicken
B. Hot dogs
C. Ketchup
D. Frish tomatoes
E. All of the above
If a student has a mobile in class (against school policy), what should I do?
A. Take away the phone for the class
B. Take away the phone for a day (until I see them the next day)
C. Make them give me 5 pounds
D. Other
So please, let me know what you think! Post your answer to at least number 3 as a comment. I'd be interested to see what you all say. Today I got 1.25 from students because they were talking in Arabic, which they aren't supposed to do. I think I'll be stocked with small change for a good while.
Tonight there's a big soccer match. I asked my students if they want homework tonight or tomorrow night, and they all said tomorrow because they want to watch the game. The men hanging out downstairs aren't playing Backgammon tonight - their chairs are all lined in a row watching TV.
The answers to 1 and 2 are B and E, respectively.
There's a sign I walk by every day. The sign reads, "The Top Of Performance it is not just a slogan but a commitment to our costumer". Which company is it for?
A. National Theatre Company
B. National Cement Company
C. The Metro System
D. National Sewing Company
Egyptians put the following on their pizza:
A. Faheta chicken
B. Hot dogs
C. Ketchup
D. Frish tomatoes
E. All of the above
If a student has a mobile in class (against school policy), what should I do?
A. Take away the phone for the class
B. Take away the phone for a day (until I see them the next day)
C. Make them give me 5 pounds
D. Other
So please, let me know what you think! Post your answer to at least number 3 as a comment. I'd be interested to see what you all say. Today I got 1.25 from students because they were talking in Arabic, which they aren't supposed to do. I think I'll be stocked with small change for a good while.
Tonight there's a big soccer match. I asked my students if they want homework tonight or tomorrow night, and they all said tomorrow because they want to watch the game. The men hanging out downstairs aren't playing Backgammon tonight - their chairs are all lined in a row watching TV.
The answers to 1 and 2 are B and E, respectively.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Random Pictures
More pictures by popular demand...
First, this is the view from where I'm sitting right now. I'm at a Coptic Monastary (supposedly where Jesus was when he came to Egypt) that has free WiFi.
First, this is the view from where I'm sitting right now. I'm at a Coptic Monastary (supposedly where Jesus was when he came to Egypt) that has free WiFi.
I've left the church now. It was noisy and I felt a little odd being the only person not in a group. I'm at a "coffee shop" now, but it's more like a restuarant. I have to say, Egypt makes good lattes. This is the second one I've had (the other was at school), and they are way better than anything at home. Maybe because the milk they use is whole milk+ and I always order nonfat. The first Starbucks is coming soon to New Maadi. Hopefully my gift card will work, and I can get something better than NesCafe!
Anyway, the following picture is of men outside my window, five stories down. I hear them at night and smell the sheesha smoke.
Last night I bought a new pair of shoes. I've become tired of wearing sandals/flip flops all the time, and the only shoes I brought don't work with skirts (which is mostly what I wear). How much did dad win for saying I'd buy shoes within a month? But hey, for LE 60, they could last 2 weeks and I'd be happy.
Now I'm just having fun with the camera:
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Pictures!
I took these today at school:
View from the Fellows' Room, a place where all the fellows in the ELI can work. We have a little balcony.
Just to the left of this hedge/fence, is the Metro access that I use everyday.
Here are pictures from the roof.
Here's my classroom. This is where I teach everyday, have one class, and usually meetings are held here. It's a "smart room", meaning it has a projector, document camera, computer, and audio equipment.
And here's a Ramadan lamp, in the ELI reception area. This one is pretty small and simple, compared to others I've seen.
Welcome to Ramadan
Ramadan began this evening. There are special store displays, television shows, and Ramadan music everywhere. There are also giant lanterns. I'll take a picture of some at school tomorrow, but for now, here's the night view from my window. The bright colored lights are Ramadan decorations.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Student Thanks
I just received a kind email (using some text message shorthand!) from a student thanking me for changing the homework. I think I actually remember the face that goes with the name!
Back to School!
I have successfully completed an entire week of school! Classes started on Wednesday, and now it is Tuesday night.
I found that my grad classes will be time-consuming, but not necessarily difficult. All of the instructors are quite well-respected in thier fields, so it is very interesting learning from them. Coming from a small university, it is a little strange to be at such a prestigious institution. The director of the Enlish Language Institute (the part of the school where I teach), said that TEFL/TESL conferences and seminars are almost like AUC alumni gatherings, where it is common for half of the people there (presenting papers, attending, etc) to be AUC graduates.
The class I teach is... interesting. When I ask the students why they came to AUC, it is because of the presitige. A lot of them want to be Petroleum Engineers, which is a new term for me. Apparently it's the people who work in the extraction of fossil fuels. One girl said the Minister of Petroleum Engineering is her hero because he recently said women can be Petro Engineers.
I've also noticed that in Egypt they call a lot of people engineers who we might call technicians in the States. The guy who comes to fix the copy machine, for instance. They also use some other strange terms, like a computer projector is called a 'data show'.
Back to my class: They all seem very eager to learn. So far they have been well-behaved, not talking a lot or using too much of thier first language. I like them! I've already identified at least 2 overachievers and 1 socialite. Today after assigning the homework, one of the students came back in the room and told me that he and all his friends think the homework is too much. I told him I would think about it, and send out an email. I reduced it because I was already concerned about it being too long, but I'm afraid they will still be stressed out. We'll see!
I found that my grad classes will be time-consuming, but not necessarily difficult. All of the instructors are quite well-respected in thier fields, so it is very interesting learning from them. Coming from a small university, it is a little strange to be at such a prestigious institution. The director of the Enlish Language Institute (the part of the school where I teach), said that TEFL/TESL conferences and seminars are almost like AUC alumni gatherings, where it is common for half of the people there (presenting papers, attending, etc) to be AUC graduates.
The class I teach is... interesting. When I ask the students why they came to AUC, it is because of the presitige. A lot of them want to be Petroleum Engineers, which is a new term for me. Apparently it's the people who work in the extraction of fossil fuels. One girl said the Minister of Petroleum Engineering is her hero because he recently said women can be Petro Engineers.
I've also noticed that in Egypt they call a lot of people engineers who we might call technicians in the States. The guy who comes to fix the copy machine, for instance. They also use some other strange terms, like a computer projector is called a 'data show'.
Back to my class: They all seem very eager to learn. So far they have been well-behaved, not talking a lot or using too much of thier first language. I like them! I've already identified at least 2 overachievers and 1 socialite. Today after assigning the homework, one of the students came back in the room and told me that he and all his friends think the homework is too much. I told him I would think about it, and send out an email. I reduced it because I was already concerned about it being too long, but I'm afraid they will still be stressed out. We'll see!
Thursday, September 06, 2007
Eating
I find that I'm not eating much. First of all, it's too hot! Also, I discovered how much I rely on a microwave, and without one, it's a lot of effort. This evening I had cold leftovers from last night because it's easier than reheating them on the stove. My host mom made Maahshi (means "stuffed") with bell peppers, zucchinni, eggplant and cabbage (stuffed with rice). It's one of my favorite Egyptian dishes.
Anyway, I had dinner alone the other night, and took pictures. This is a very common Egyptian meal (not usually the main meal, but a snack or breakfast). The beans are fava beans... kind of like refried beans. It's called fuul (pronounced 'fool'), and is eaten with bread by hand.
Here's the stove, with fuul on the right.
Here's up close.
And here's my dinner. From left to right: White cheese (a soft, salty cheese from buffalo milk); chopped up cucumber, tomato and onion; fuul (with the beans mashed up); Egyptian bread.
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Walk Like an Egyptian
Okay, you knew that title was coming :-)
Many times we think that "Walk like and Egyptian" means putting your arms at funny angles and suddenly becoming two-dimensional. Perhaps it's because of the song...
But the real way to walk like an Egyptian is without fear.
Crossing the street in Cairo is very interesting, and at times, terrifying. The traffic rules are usually mentioned only when joking. Lanes are suggestions, and other vehicles are viewed as obstacles to get around that happen to be moving. It is not uncommon for drivers to make turns across traffic. If there is a traffic light, no one pays attention to it, including the policeman that may or may not be directing traffic through a busy intersection. At night, many drivers only use the lights as flashers, similar to the way they use thier horns (see Terrifying Taxis below). You can imagine that walking across such mayhem can be intimidating! But, of course, everyone does it. At school we were warned that during Ramadan (starting Setp. 13), traffic accidents increase dramatically, as 16+ million people all rush home at the same time.
Also being a woman and walking around has it's own hassles. I typically don't get harrassed at all, but I think it is because I've learned to walk in such a way that people don't bother me. It reminds me of when I was in high school. I was a good student, never getting into trouble, and I learned that if I look confident and avoid eye contact, I could go anywhere in the building when I was supposed to be in class. It's the same way here. If I look confused, or like I need directions, some overly helpful person (usually a man), will hound my steps until I either arrive at my destination or am rude enough to get rid of him. So, even if I don't have any idea of where I am or where I should go, I fake it! Never show weakness on the street!
Tomorrow I'm bringing my camera to school and hope to post pictures.
Many times we think that "Walk like and Egyptian" means putting your arms at funny angles and suddenly becoming two-dimensional. Perhaps it's because of the song...
But the real way to walk like an Egyptian is without fear.
Crossing the street in Cairo is very interesting, and at times, terrifying. The traffic rules are usually mentioned only when joking. Lanes are suggestions, and other vehicles are viewed as obstacles to get around that happen to be moving. It is not uncommon for drivers to make turns across traffic. If there is a traffic light, no one pays attention to it, including the policeman that may or may not be directing traffic through a busy intersection. At night, many drivers only use the lights as flashers, similar to the way they use thier horns (see Terrifying Taxis below). You can imagine that walking across such mayhem can be intimidating! But, of course, everyone does it. At school we were warned that during Ramadan (starting Setp. 13), traffic accidents increase dramatically, as 16+ million people all rush home at the same time.
Also being a woman and walking around has it's own hassles. I typically don't get harrassed at all, but I think it is because I've learned to walk in such a way that people don't bother me. It reminds me of when I was in high school. I was a good student, never getting into trouble, and I learned that if I look confident and avoid eye contact, I could go anywhere in the building when I was supposed to be in class. It's the same way here. If I look confused, or like I need directions, some overly helpful person (usually a man), will hound my steps until I either arrive at my destination or am rude enough to get rid of him. So, even if I don't have any idea of where I am or where I should go, I fake it! Never show weakness on the street!
Tomorrow I'm bringing my camera to school and hope to post pictures.
Sunday, September 02, 2007
Made in Egypt
Today I went to the store with my host dad. He was telling me that this is the biggest store in all of Cairo. I expected something like the Lamb’s Thriftway on Scholls back home. The place is huge. It’s like a Mega Super Wal-Mart, with more stuff.
It was fun wandering around. They are starting to get ready for Ramadan which begins September 13, so there were sparkly stars, moons and lamps hanging up. Pril, a popular brand of dish soap, was being sold in lantern-style squeeze bottles. Plus, school starts next week, so all the back to school stuff was out. The cheese counter was heaven. They have every kind of cheese from every country you can imagine. The cheese section was about the size of a regular meat area, with about 4 guys behind the counter helping customers. And that’s not counting the pre-packaged cheese. We had to take a number.
This is also the place where all the foreigners shop. I saw Asians, Europeans, Americans, and of course, Egyptians. In addition to the store, they have attached a mall. So the wall where the registers are (more than I’ve ever seen in one store) opens up to the mall corridor. There are the regular mall stores – Levis, Claire’s, and of course, a food court. They are in the process of adding 42 more stores, including a Starbucks. Yippee!
I was reminded today that other countries don’t abide by the same copyright rules the U.S. does. For example, we were in the cleaning supplies aisle. There was Clorox, but right next to the Clorox, for much less, were CloroMax, Clorotel, and Clorita. They all had remarkably similar blue and white packaging.
In unrelated news, apparently I look like I was made in Egypt. Almost every day, someone comes up to me, yakking away in Arabic. I tell them, mabakelemish araby (I don’t speak Arabic). It doesn’t seem to faze them, as they continue on with whatever they were saying. I try to look clueless (not too difficult), until they get the point that I really don’t speak Arabic. Once they realize that I’m not joking, they get a little embarrassed. One lady went on to tell me that I look Egyptian.
Tomorrow my schedule gets crazy. No more 3 hour trips to the store!
It was fun wandering around. They are starting to get ready for Ramadan which begins September 13, so there were sparkly stars, moons and lamps hanging up. Pril, a popular brand of dish soap, was being sold in lantern-style squeeze bottles. Plus, school starts next week, so all the back to school stuff was out. The cheese counter was heaven. They have every kind of cheese from every country you can imagine. The cheese section was about the size of a regular meat area, with about 4 guys behind the counter helping customers. And that’s not counting the pre-packaged cheese. We had to take a number.
This is also the place where all the foreigners shop. I saw Asians, Europeans, Americans, and of course, Egyptians. In addition to the store, they have attached a mall. So the wall where the registers are (more than I’ve ever seen in one store) opens up to the mall corridor. There are the regular mall stores – Levis, Claire’s, and of course, a food court. They are in the process of adding 42 more stores, including a Starbucks. Yippee!
I was reminded today that other countries don’t abide by the same copyright rules the U.S. does. For example, we were in the cleaning supplies aisle. There was Clorox, but right next to the Clorox, for much less, were CloroMax, Clorotel, and Clorita. They all had remarkably similar blue and white packaging.
In unrelated news, apparently I look like I was made in Egypt. Almost every day, someone comes up to me, yakking away in Arabic. I tell them, mabakelemish araby (I don’t speak Arabic). It doesn’t seem to faze them, as they continue on with whatever they were saying. I try to look clueless (not too difficult), until they get the point that I really don’t speak Arabic. Once they realize that I’m not joking, they get a little embarrassed. One lady went on to tell me that I look Egyptian.
Tomorrow my schedule gets crazy. No more 3 hour trips to the store!
Saturday, September 01, 2007
Terrifying Taxis
I originally wrote this on August 28, but forgot to post it.
I’ve mentioned taxis a few times. It’s time for a post about them.
Traffic in Cairo is unique. I’ve heard stories about India, I’ve been to Mexico, and I suspect each city has its quirks.
In general, Cairo is overcrowded and there are way too many cars for the streets. Drivers make turns across traffic, have custom horns (e.g., linking the wiper wand to their horn for easier access), and make very tight turns and passes. Additionally, there always seems to be a car stopped on the side of the street, backing up traffic. I counted around 4 of them on my way from the airport. Sometimes it’s a taxi, with the passengers standing on the sidewalk, sometimes it’s some guy driving a truck, and other times it’s just regular cars. One interesting sight was a Suzuki truck (the kind with the flat front) pushing a little blue hatchback. I couldn’t tell if the driver was being helpful or mean. The horns also have meaning. One honk means “I’m here, don’t run into me” or if at a pedestrian, “I’m here, get out of the street”. Two honks means “Get out of my way”, and three means, “Really, you had better get out of my way.” I think the single, long honk has a universal meaning, “I’m not stopping, so move or I’ll hit you.”
This afternoon I took a taxi ride from Zamalek to Maadi, which my host mom said should be about LE20.
After having the hotel guy help me out the door with my luggage, he went down the street to find me a taxi. I told the guy I would pay LE20-25. He comes back with a driver who said he will do it for LE30 and knows the area of Maadi where I am going. I agreed (I wasn’t about to argue over $.88). So they throw my suitcases on the luggage rack on top of the car. I asked if they were okay, and I got an “of course!” I got in the car and began my adventure.
First off, the driver kept saying “Mary” instead of “Maadi”. I kept correcting him, but it didn’t seem to work. He had no idea where he was taking me. After explaining which Metro stop I take, he seemed to have a general idea of where to go. After fighting traffic on the road that borders the Nile (Corniche il Nil), we got on the road to Maadi. The first part of the drive I was following along on my map, confirming with the driver where we were. He kept complimenting me and saying things in Arabic that I didn’t understand. The Corniche seems to be a popular place for young couples. I saw a lot of holding hands and talking along the walkway. It is quite pleasant with trees and the cool breeze off the river. Of course, there was the usual melee of bicycles, pedestrians, and large trucks hauling tires going way too fast.
Once we were past the main downtown traffic, we picked up speed. The driver lit up, which I hate. It is sad when I actually try to catch the traffic fumes rather than role up the window. The driver pulled over after finishing his cigarette. I was somewhat concerned, as we were not near any particular building. He wanted a drink of water. (He can smoke, honk, and talk to me while driving but can’t drink?). We went on a little ways.
Soon he stopped on the side of the road where people were waiting (Waiting for what? you might ask. Who knows; maybe for a bus, a mini bus, or just to cross the street). They didn’t know where Hotel Mary is. (My landmark, of course, is Hotel Maadi). We continued on.
Then the driver rolled down his window and shouted out to the taxi passing us on the left. The other taxi slowed down and they shouted to each other (with traffic whizzing by). He told us to take the next left. He pulled ahead, and as he came to the street, gestured with his hand where we should turn. That was kind of him.
Going down the street, the driver again asked people standing on the side of the road where Hotel Mary is. No one knew. He rolled ahead and shouted to some guy sitting on the side of a building. They guy came over, and I again said, “Fondo Maadi” (Hotel Maadi). As soon as I said “Maadi”, the guy knew exactly where to direct us, which was about 100 meters ahead. Once there, I was easily able to provide directions to drive to my host family’s home.
He stopped, and boys rushed up to help me with my luggage. I paid the driver (I gave him a few extra pounds; it was worth it!) and let the boys take my luggage to the elevator. I didn’t want them coming up with me, but they were insistent so doorman had to tell them “no”. I heard one boy protest to the doorman, “Baksheesh!” I was ready and gave the boy a tip before the doors closed.
Jeff calls the straps inside the car doors “Oh no” straps. I don’t consider myself a crazy driver. The main road we took is fairly straight, but I had to hang on the entire time.
My luggage made it safely, as did I.
I’ve mentioned taxis a few times. It’s time for a post about them.
Traffic in Cairo is unique. I’ve heard stories about India, I’ve been to Mexico, and I suspect each city has its quirks.
In general, Cairo is overcrowded and there are way too many cars for the streets. Drivers make turns across traffic, have custom horns (e.g., linking the wiper wand to their horn for easier access), and make very tight turns and passes. Additionally, there always seems to be a car stopped on the side of the street, backing up traffic. I counted around 4 of them on my way from the airport. Sometimes it’s a taxi, with the passengers standing on the sidewalk, sometimes it’s some guy driving a truck, and other times it’s just regular cars. One interesting sight was a Suzuki truck (the kind with the flat front) pushing a little blue hatchback. I couldn’t tell if the driver was being helpful or mean. The horns also have meaning. One honk means “I’m here, don’t run into me” or if at a pedestrian, “I’m here, get out of the street”. Two honks means “Get out of my way”, and three means, “Really, you had better get out of my way.” I think the single, long honk has a universal meaning, “I’m not stopping, so move or I’ll hit you.”
This afternoon I took a taxi ride from Zamalek to Maadi, which my host mom said should be about LE20.
After having the hotel guy help me out the door with my luggage, he went down the street to find me a taxi. I told the guy I would pay LE20-25. He comes back with a driver who said he will do it for LE30 and knows the area of Maadi where I am going. I agreed (I wasn’t about to argue over $.88). So they throw my suitcases on the luggage rack on top of the car. I asked if they were okay, and I got an “of course!” I got in the car and began my adventure.
First off, the driver kept saying “Mary” instead of “Maadi”. I kept correcting him, but it didn’t seem to work. He had no idea where he was taking me. After explaining which Metro stop I take, he seemed to have a general idea of where to go. After fighting traffic on the road that borders the Nile (Corniche il Nil), we got on the road to Maadi. The first part of the drive I was following along on my map, confirming with the driver where we were. He kept complimenting me and saying things in Arabic that I didn’t understand. The Corniche seems to be a popular place for young couples. I saw a lot of holding hands and talking along the walkway. It is quite pleasant with trees and the cool breeze off the river. Of course, there was the usual melee of bicycles, pedestrians, and large trucks hauling tires going way too fast.
Once we were past the main downtown traffic, we picked up speed. The driver lit up, which I hate. It is sad when I actually try to catch the traffic fumes rather than role up the window. The driver pulled over after finishing his cigarette. I was somewhat concerned, as we were not near any particular building. He wanted a drink of water. (He can smoke, honk, and talk to me while driving but can’t drink?). We went on a little ways.
Soon he stopped on the side of the road where people were waiting (Waiting for what? you might ask. Who knows; maybe for a bus, a mini bus, or just to cross the street). They didn’t know where Hotel Mary is. (My landmark, of course, is Hotel Maadi). We continued on.
Then the driver rolled down his window and shouted out to the taxi passing us on the left. The other taxi slowed down and they shouted to each other (with traffic whizzing by). He told us to take the next left. He pulled ahead, and as he came to the street, gestured with his hand where we should turn. That was kind of him.
Going down the street, the driver again asked people standing on the side of the road where Hotel Mary is. No one knew. He rolled ahead and shouted to some guy sitting on the side of a building. They guy came over, and I again said, “Fondo Maadi” (Hotel Maadi). As soon as I said “Maadi”, the guy knew exactly where to direct us, which was about 100 meters ahead. Once there, I was easily able to provide directions to drive to my host family’s home.
He stopped, and boys rushed up to help me with my luggage. I paid the driver (I gave him a few extra pounds; it was worth it!) and let the boys take my luggage to the elevator. I didn’t want them coming up with me, but they were insistent so doorman had to tell them “no”. I heard one boy protest to the doorman, “Baksheesh!” I was ready and gave the boy a tip before the doors closed.
Jeff calls the straps inside the car doors “Oh no” straps. I don’t consider myself a crazy driver. The main road we took is fairly straight, but I had to hang on the entire time.
My luggage made it safely, as did I.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Flatmates and Phones
Today I went to church. It was nice... just like church at home except all new people and the worship leader has an Australian accent. I signed up to be part of a Life Group, so I am waiting to be contacted.
After church I did some impromptu shopping. The guy at the Mobilnil store yesterday told me to come back today for the cell phone deal I wanted (I had the newspaper ad). Today he directed me to the Alpha Market. I keep hearing about the Alpha Market, so I decided to go find it. He told me it is on the Corniche (road that parallels the Nile).
Then I made my way to the Corniche and discovered the haven of imported goods that is Alpha Market. I also got my new cell phone (on right). As you can see by the comparison of my regular phone, it is quite small!
And here I scared them:
After church I did some impromptu shopping. The guy at the Mobilnil store yesterday told me to come back today for the cell phone deal I wanted (I had the newspaper ad). Today he directed me to the Alpha Market. I keep hearing about the Alpha Market, so I decided to go find it. He told me it is on the Corniche (road that parallels the Nile).
On my way to church I had spotted a camera/photography shop. So I stopped in to get my photos for the Metro pass. Turns out in Egypt they sell a minimum of 8 passport photos at a time. It must be a testament to Egypt's well-organized beaurocracy. Anyway, I'll pick up the pictures tomorrow after 7 p.m.
I also passed a bakery and decided to restock my supply at home of aish balady (Egyptian bread, a kind of pita bread). I've been eating it out of the freezer and this morning realized there's only a few loaves left.
Then I made my way to the Corniche and discovered the haven of imported goods that is Alpha Market. I also got my new cell phone (on right). As you can see by the comparison of my regular phone, it is quite small!
I returned home, ate some kind of European potato chip/chex type snack, drank my lemon Schwepps (I was indulging in my imported purchases!) and played solitaire while listening to the Friday prayers and sermon. The mosque next door kindly amplifies the call to prayer and the sermon so everyone can hear. How much did I understand? Not really anything more than allah u akbar. But there was a nice breeze out on the balcony, and I was finally feeling comfortable after applying the coritizone cream on all the bug bites I have (I had also stopped at a pharmacy).
Anyway, I also said "hi" to my flatmates. They have been quite good company since the family has been gone. Plus they're just cute. 
Here they are fighting: 
And here I scared them:
A Word on Weather
I've mentioned that it is hot here in Cairo. I haven't really gone into details, so I thought I'd take a moment to briefly describe for all of you what it is like here.
In a word, it's a sauna. Standing in the Metro cars, I can usually feel sweat rolling down my neck, back, and legs. No matter what I wear, it gets wet. The temperature has been in the 90's, and humidity in the 50% plus range. Today is actually quite pleasant at 95 degrees and only 39% humidity.
The heat and jet lag have disturbed my sleep quite a bit. If I'm not awake because it's too hot, I'm awake because my body is telling me it's time to be awake. I usually take a nap sometime in the late afternoon.
Anyway, when I say it's hot, I mean it's too hot to go anywhere or do anything between 1 and 5 p.m.
I will never complain about weather in Oregon again!
In a word, it's a sauna. Standing in the Metro cars, I can usually feel sweat rolling down my neck, back, and legs. No matter what I wear, it gets wet. The temperature has been in the 90's, and humidity in the 50% plus range. Today is actually quite pleasant at 95 degrees and only 39% humidity.
The heat and jet lag have disturbed my sleep quite a bit. If I'm not awake because it's too hot, I'm awake because my body is telling me it's time to be awake. I usually take a nap sometime in the late afternoon.
Anyway, when I say it's hot, I mean it's too hot to go anywhere or do anything between 1 and 5 p.m.
I will never complain about weather in Oregon again!
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
First Glimpse of School
Today I went downtown to visit the school. I mostly wanted to time how long the walk and Metro ride would take. While I was downtown, I met Michelle, whom I have been emailing. After visiting the school (very uneventful, I’ll learn everything tomorrow at orientation), I went on a quest to find a money exchange shop. I headed off. After a few blocks, I stopped in Radio Shack. It’s strange how I trust familiar names. Plus they are air-conditioned. The man there directed me down the street. I went where he told me, but didn’t see anything. So I asked a woman on the street. Through some sign language and her asking a different man, they directed me to a commercial centre – basically a mall (where everything was closed). I saw a bank and gave up trying to find just the exchange office.
This is a pretty typical scene. It’s like this everywhere I go. This is why I didn’t want to live downtown! Maadi is a little quieter.
After the bank (this took 45 minutes from when I started), I headed toward the place where I was to meet Michelle. I saw a couple interesting sights. There was one guy sitting on the edge of the sidewalk facing the buildings, with a .45 on display. It looked like he was cleaning it, but it was partially disassembled on a stand, facing the building. I somewhat nervously walked by, every gun safety lesson ever learned telling me to protect my ankles.
I took a picture of the street (above), mostly for my dad. See anything familiar? I zoomed in for you.
This is a pretty typical scene. It’s like this everywhere I go. This is why I didn’t want to live downtown! Maadi is a little quieter.Modesty Defined
One aspect of Islam that is often talked about is the veil that women wear. The rest of a woman’s dress code is often ignored. Not only do they cover their head, but their skirts go to the ground, and their arms and neck must be covered. A very conservative woman will cover her ankles with stockings/socks, her hands with gloves, and perhaps even her face. Part of the dress code is to stop men from looking at women in a dishonorable way.
This afternoon on the Metro, a young woman sat down next to me. I was in the woman’s car (the first two cars of the train are reserved for women only). She was completely covered except for her face. Since it is in the mid-90’s with humidity of about 80 percent, I couldn’t blame her when she took off her gloves and proceeded to make a phone call.
What I found amusing is that her outfit covered her, but was far from what I would consider modest. Her dress had a white background with orange stripes (or something – I didn’t pay that close attention). It had spaghetti straps, and underneath was an orange shirt. I’ve noticed a lot of women wearing these shirts under regular fashions. They are skin tight and cover from the neck to the wrists (like a mock turtle-neck; no scoops or Vs!). It looked like she had orange skin. Her headscarf was a bright orange, and she had a tassel-like decoration hanging from the pin that secured it. Her dress was very form-fitting.
A lot of young women wear similarly flamboyant clothing. And it is all tight. With big necklaces. There is something strange to me about fulfilling the letter of the law but not the spirit.
This afternoon on the Metro, a young woman sat down next to me. I was in the woman’s car (the first two cars of the train are reserved for women only). She was completely covered except for her face. Since it is in the mid-90’s with humidity of about 80 percent, I couldn’t blame her when she took off her gloves and proceeded to make a phone call.
What I found amusing is that her outfit covered her, but was far from what I would consider modest. Her dress had a white background with orange stripes (or something – I didn’t pay that close attention). It had spaghetti straps, and underneath was an orange shirt. I’ve noticed a lot of women wearing these shirts under regular fashions. They are skin tight and cover from the neck to the wrists (like a mock turtle-neck; no scoops or Vs!). It looked like she had orange skin. Her headscarf was a bright orange, and she had a tassel-like decoration hanging from the pin that secured it. Her dress was very form-fitting.
A lot of young women wear similarly flamboyant clothing. And it is all tight. With big necklaces. There is something strange to me about fulfilling the letter of the law but not the spirit.
Monday, August 27, 2007
Farewell to the May Fair
Today I leave the hotel to move in with my host family. Overall, this has been a pretty good place. The room is simple, but it is clean, has A/C, and satellite TV. I got to watch parts of The Nanny and Oprah.
Here are some pics. I'm sorry they are a little blurry and poorly formatted!
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Metro Madness
I'm enjoying creating alliterative titles. I know. I'm a geek.
This afternoon I went and visited my host family. They are wonderful! I will be sharing a room with a 15-year-old. the room is big and air conditioned. I move in tomorrow.
The flat is a good 30 minute metro ride.
So this afternoon when I got to the metro station, I had to remember how to do everything. After staring at the Arabic map for a few minutes, I figured out what line to take. I also had a chance to observe everyone buying their ticket so I knew what to do. Getting there was no problem. I spent about 4 hours with them talking, eating, sleeping. It was nice.
On about the fourth station on the way back, the train stopped to let people out. The the doors stayed open and all the lights went out. Apparently it was done for the evening. So everyone on the crowded train leaves and goes across the platform to the train on the other side. I figure that must be the right train. However, I didn't want to be that close to people and decided to wait for the next train.
The next train came and I got on. I was looking for Midan al-Tahrir, but didn't see the station. I knew the station is underground (the metro goes above ground outside downtown), so when we resurfaced, I asked someone where Midan al-Tahrir is. It had occured to me that I didn't pay attention to the name of the station when I originally got on. They told me I'm on the wrong train and pointed to the train going the other direction. I quickly got off and went to the next platform.
On that train I got on the Women's car (the first car on the train is reserved for women only). Once on, I asked which station and was directed there. Finally!
The entire experience took about an hour. Then the always harrowing taxi ride back to the hotel. I'm tired!
This afternoon I went and visited my host family. They are wonderful! I will be sharing a room with a 15-year-old. the room is big and air conditioned. I move in tomorrow.
The flat is a good 30 minute metro ride.
So this afternoon when I got to the metro station, I had to remember how to do everything. After staring at the Arabic map for a few minutes, I figured out what line to take. I also had a chance to observe everyone buying their ticket so I knew what to do. Getting there was no problem. I spent about 4 hours with them talking, eating, sleeping. It was nice.
On about the fourth station on the way back, the train stopped to let people out. The the doors stayed open and all the lights went out. Apparently it was done for the evening. So everyone on the crowded train leaves and goes across the platform to the train on the other side. I figure that must be the right train. However, I didn't want to be that close to people and decided to wait for the next train.
The next train came and I got on. I was looking for Midan al-Tahrir, but didn't see the station. I knew the station is underground (the metro goes above ground outside downtown), so when we resurfaced, I asked someone where Midan al-Tahrir is. It had occured to me that I didn't pay attention to the name of the station when I originally got on. They told me I'm on the wrong train and pointed to the train going the other direction. I quickly got off and went to the next platform.
On that train I got on the Women's car (the first car on the train is reserved for women only). Once on, I asked which station and was directed there. Finally!
The entire experience took about an hour. Then the always harrowing taxi ride back to the hotel. I'm tired!
Out and About in Zamalek
This morning I got up at 7 a.m. It’s my first day in Cairo, and sleeping any later was impossible! I was pretty hungry, but my thirst was tremendous. While the air conditioning is heavenly, it does dry out one’s throat!
I got up and went downstairs to eat breakfast on the terrace (there’s free WiFi there as well). It was very simple: a hard-boiled egg, some bread, pre-packaged jam, butter and cheese, tea and orange juice (Tang). It was perfect. I knew those foods wouldn’t upset my stomach.
Then it was time to get out of the hotel. The last thing I wanted to do is sit in my cool room and mope about not knowing anyone and missing everyone back home. The first order of business is a watch battery. This is something I didn’t have time to do before I left.
I left the hotel and started walking. Most of the shops were closed, which was strange because it was after 10 a.m. I wandered around for quite a while. I noticed things from when I was here 7 years ago – the gas station I walked by every day. I saw the Italian restaurant where we liked to eat. I passed many embassies, Spain, Austria, and so on. I saw the Hardee’s, which was great.
I had also wanted to stop by the AUC dorm where I stayed last time, and find out if I could sort out my housing application (I need to take myself off the waiting list and make sure the deposit check is cancelled). Turns out I have to clear that up at the main campus, which is what I expected. I continued walking.
After asking around, I found a Radio Shack, which then directed me to a different store. Finally! My watch is working!
I wandered on back to the hotel, stopping to buy some bananas, and apple and water. I feel like I’m getting ripped off at some of these places, but I can’t do much about it.
It was good to walk around and reacquaint myself with what it is like here. The men stare, the women wear headscarves, and it smells funny. That is something I had forgotten – the way this city smells. It’s not awful, but the humidity sucks up all the pollution and garbage and the scent hangs in the air. It’s definitely not the fresh smell of Oregon air.
I had also forgotten how bad the sidewalks are. Every 10 or so feet there is an alleyway or a driveway or another street, and the curbs range anywhere from 6 to 18 inches. Parts of the sidewalk are crumbled away, revealing sand (which collects garbage). There are trees growing that block the way, little shops selling candy and cigarettes, guard booths, and guys randomly sitting in chairs all on the sidewalks. There is also the fun task of dodging the water dripping from all the A/C units. In addition to the water, there is also the plants that are put in the sidewalk to catch the drippings. Sometimes there are hoses attached from the unit to a tree to water plants. Often is easier to walk on the street, which everyone does.
All in all I wandered for about an hour and a half. I’m feeling much more capable and mentally stable today. It is tremendous what sleep can do for my mood!
I got up and went downstairs to eat breakfast on the terrace (there’s free WiFi there as well). It was very simple: a hard-boiled egg, some bread, pre-packaged jam, butter and cheese, tea and orange juice (Tang). It was perfect. I knew those foods wouldn’t upset my stomach.
Then it was time to get out of the hotel. The last thing I wanted to do is sit in my cool room and mope about not knowing anyone and missing everyone back home. The first order of business is a watch battery. This is something I didn’t have time to do before I left.
I left the hotel and started walking. Most of the shops were closed, which was strange because it was after 10 a.m. I wandered around for quite a while. I noticed things from when I was here 7 years ago – the gas station I walked by every day. I saw the Italian restaurant where we liked to eat. I passed many embassies, Spain, Austria, and so on. I saw the Hardee’s, which was great.
I had also wanted to stop by the AUC dorm where I stayed last time, and find out if I could sort out my housing application (I need to take myself off the waiting list and make sure the deposit check is cancelled). Turns out I have to clear that up at the main campus, which is what I expected. I continued walking.
After asking around, I found a Radio Shack, which then directed me to a different store. Finally! My watch is working!
I wandered on back to the hotel, stopping to buy some bananas, and apple and water. I feel like I’m getting ripped off at some of these places, but I can’t do much about it.
It was good to walk around and reacquaint myself with what it is like here. The men stare, the women wear headscarves, and it smells funny. That is something I had forgotten – the way this city smells. It’s not awful, but the humidity sucks up all the pollution and garbage and the scent hangs in the air. It’s definitely not the fresh smell of Oregon air.
I had also forgotten how bad the sidewalks are. Every 10 or so feet there is an alleyway or a driveway or another street, and the curbs range anywhere from 6 to 18 inches. Parts of the sidewalk are crumbled away, revealing sand (which collects garbage). There are trees growing that block the way, little shops selling candy and cigarettes, guard booths, and guys randomly sitting in chairs all on the sidewalks. There is also the fun task of dodging the water dripping from all the A/C units. In addition to the water, there is also the plants that are put in the sidewalk to catch the drippings. Sometimes there are hoses attached from the unit to a tree to water plants. Often is easier to walk on the street, which everyone does.
All in all I wandered for about an hour and a half. I’m feeling much more capable and mentally stable today. It is tremendous what sleep can do for my mood!
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Famished in Frankfurt
It is 3:10 a.m. Or at least it is in Portland and in my body. It is actually 12:10 p.m. on Saturday. I’ve been here now since 8:40 this morning. My flight doesn’t leave for another 2 hours and I’m starting to feel like I’m losing my mind. I’ve been up now for 19 hours, and by the time I arrive in Cairo it will be more like 25 hours.
Around 11 a.m. I decided that I was hungry. So I went to the little sandwich/coffee stand in the middle of the hallway. They don’t take MasterCard. I briefly debated with myself if I should bother going to get Euros. At an exchange rate of $1.35, I decided to not bother.
An hour later I started wandering the concourse (and losing my great seat at the gate) looking for a store selling real food and water. Or maybe a currency exchange station. I wandered in and out of the travel stores. Unless I want perfume or chocolate, I was out of luck! I thought I found something… but it was only a store selling reading material. I could have purchased caviar and champagne, but it’s not quite the right mood for that menu.
Finally I wander down the concourse, past my gate and to the other side. There’s café called Illy. Thank God - they take cards! I order a Ciabatta Caprese (sandwich with mozzarella, tomatoes, and fresh basil). It’s 4.40 Euros, but I don’t care. I ask the guy behind the counter how much a bottle of water is. He asks me if I want sparkling water or not. I really didn’t care and wanted to know how much the two swallows I’d get out of the bottle were. 2.40!! I told him I didn’t want it, and he rolled his eyes and acted impatient. I suppose if you work at the international terminal you run into a lot of people who don’t know your language, are functioning on little sleep, and are otherwise different from you. I don’t have the patience for European rudeness. I ate my sandwich ($6.00!) and left. I’d rather be dehydrated for a short time rather than give into paying $3.25 for a half liter of water. Then again, maybe that’s the normal price for water in Germany.
I’m rambling now… my head hurts and I feel I’m in my own universe with people orbiting around me, coming in and out of my consciousness. They only exist if I pay attention to them.
I’ve read USA Today, the Financial Times Weekend Edition and watched two flights leave my gate so far… I hope mine is next.
Around 11 a.m. I decided that I was hungry. So I went to the little sandwich/coffee stand in the middle of the hallway. They don’t take MasterCard. I briefly debated with myself if I should bother going to get Euros. At an exchange rate of $1.35, I decided to not bother.
An hour later I started wandering the concourse (and losing my great seat at the gate) looking for a store selling real food and water. Or maybe a currency exchange station. I wandered in and out of the travel stores. Unless I want perfume or chocolate, I was out of luck! I thought I found something… but it was only a store selling reading material. I could have purchased caviar and champagne, but it’s not quite the right mood for that menu.
Finally I wander down the concourse, past my gate and to the other side. There’s café called Illy. Thank God - they take cards! I order a Ciabatta Caprese (sandwich with mozzarella, tomatoes, and fresh basil). It’s 4.40 Euros, but I don’t care. I ask the guy behind the counter how much a bottle of water is. He asks me if I want sparkling water or not. I really didn’t care and wanted to know how much the two swallows I’d get out of the bottle were. 2.40!! I told him I didn’t want it, and he rolled his eyes and acted impatient. I suppose if you work at the international terminal you run into a lot of people who don’t know your language, are functioning on little sleep, and are otherwise different from you. I don’t have the patience for European rudeness. I ate my sandwich ($6.00!) and left. I’d rather be dehydrated for a short time rather than give into paying $3.25 for a half liter of water. Then again, maybe that’s the normal price for water in Germany.
I’m rambling now… my head hurts and I feel I’m in my own universe with people orbiting around me, coming in and out of my consciousness. They only exist if I pay attention to them.
I’ve read USA Today, the Financial Times Weekend Edition and watched two flights leave my gate so far… I hope mine is next.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Fly PDX
I love the Portland Airport. I'm sitting here waiting for my flight to Cairo and I can access the free WiFi here. That's right - I'm on my way!
It is so strange how my life has focused toward a particular day, August 24, for so many months, and it is finally here. Now I'm thinking about the next day, December 18, when I fly back. Don't get me wrong, I fully intend to live in the moment each day, and I'm guessing school deadlines will overshadow my return for a while during the semester.
About 3 to 4 weeks ago I prayed for God to tell me where I am living. I told him, "I'm being obedient and going even if I don't have a place to live, but it would really be nice to know ahead of time." Last night when I checked my email at 1 a.m., I had an email from Michelle responding to my Craigslist ad for needing an apartment and roommate(s). She sent details and pictures, and so now I have somewhere to land. It is available September 1, and my hotel is reserved through August 30. I'm guessing I'll be able to stay another night.
I'm feeling much better now about leaving. I can actually start to think about school and what I enjoy about Cairo rather than worrying about where I'm going to live. I do ask for prayer that I will have a good relationship with my two flatmates. I will be sharing a room with a Ugandan. They are both AUC grad students in different programs from mine.
The flight is boarding!!
It is so strange how my life has focused toward a particular day, August 24, for so many months, and it is finally here. Now I'm thinking about the next day, December 18, when I fly back. Don't get me wrong, I fully intend to live in the moment each day, and I'm guessing school deadlines will overshadow my return for a while during the semester.
About 3 to 4 weeks ago I prayed for God to tell me where I am living. I told him, "I'm being obedient and going even if I don't have a place to live, but it would really be nice to know ahead of time." Last night when I checked my email at 1 a.m., I had an email from Michelle responding to my Craigslist ad for needing an apartment and roommate(s). She sent details and pictures, and so now I have somewhere to land. It is available September 1, and my hotel is reserved through August 30. I'm guessing I'll be able to stay another night.
I'm feeling much better now about leaving. I can actually start to think about school and what I enjoy about Cairo rather than worrying about where I'm going to live. I do ask for prayer that I will have a good relationship with my two flatmates. I will be sharing a room with a Ugandan. They are both AUC grad students in different programs from mine.
The flight is boarding!!
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Brothers-in-law
My sisters never tease me the way their husbands tease. Maybe I'll share more later...
Friday, May 04, 2007
The Big News
It feels like a long time since I submitted my application for the American University in Cairo (see post on February 6). A couple weeks ago I received an email that said I've been accepted. I kind of assumed I would be admitted to the university - my grades are really good and I had good recommendations. I wasn't really surprised or excited about admission. As for the fellowship, only those awarded it are notified, so I figured I didn't get it.
A week ago today I got an email:
Dear TEFL Fellow,
Congratulations! I am pleased to write that you have been selected to receive a Fellowship and granted admission to the Master's degree program in Teaching English as a Foreign Language at The American University in Cairo. The terms of the award are the same as those outlined at the time you applied for the fellowship. This e-mail is to inform you of the committee decision and you will receive an award letter shortly.
I think my heart stopped. After four days of mulling this over, I accepted. Orientation is August 29, so I'll be out of here in less than four months. It's fast, but I think the right decision.
A week ago today I got an email:
Dear TEFL Fellow,
Congratulations! I am pleased to write that you have been selected to receive a Fellowship and granted admission to the Master's degree program in Teaching English as a Foreign Language at The American University in Cairo. The terms of the award are the same as those outlined at the time you applied for the fellowship. This e-mail is to inform you of the committee decision and you will receive an award letter shortly.
I think my heart stopped. After four days of mulling this over, I accepted. Orientation is August 29, so I'll be out of here in less than four months. It's fast, but I think the right decision.
Friday, April 13, 2007
Thursday, April 12, 2007
The Tax Code
I was listening to Coast to Coast AM last night. They had a guest talking about the FairTax. It's very intriguing. Check it out when you have some time: www.fairtax.org.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
More Family Fun
On Saturday my brother-in-law's parents hosted a "Welcome Home" open house for Brice, who recently came home from Iraq with the Air Force. They have a cabin outside Tillamook, so we all spent a fun day along the river; mostly eating and talking.
My mom and Brice's mom decided this would be a great opportunity for family pictures. After his family did their round, it was our turn. The first one was everybody - mom and dad, Jackie and Brice, Rene, Bryan and 3 kids and me. Then mom wanted all individual families. Plus one of just the grandkids.
Sebastien (4), Olivia (2) and Sean (1) were arranged standing/sitting on a rock. Olivia had no facial expression. Rene said it was because a lot of new people were around and she often will become emotionless when overwhelmed with so many strangers. I'm sure having about 10 adults standing behind the camera telling her to smile didn't help.
Then Rene, in a somewhat embarrassed tone, said she always smiles at farting noises.
So the 10 adults standing behind the camera started making farting noises.
Olivia smiled.
My mom and Brice's mom decided this would be a great opportunity for family pictures. After his family did their round, it was our turn. The first one was everybody - mom and dad, Jackie and Brice, Rene, Bryan and 3 kids and me. Then mom wanted all individual families. Plus one of just the grandkids.
Sebastien (4), Olivia (2) and Sean (1) were arranged standing/sitting on a rock. Olivia had no facial expression. Rene said it was because a lot of new people were around and she often will become emotionless when overwhelmed with so many strangers. I'm sure having about 10 adults standing behind the camera telling her to smile didn't help.
Then Rene, in a somewhat embarrassed tone, said she always smiles at farting noises.
So the 10 adults standing behind the camera started making farting noises.
Olivia smiled.
Tulips!
I went to the Tulip Festival in Woodburn on April 1. Jeremy took this picture of me:
I'm leaning down to smell the flowers. Some of the tulips had great aromas - these ones were better looking than smelling. However, they were one of my favorites. I love the color combination.
The day was sunny (although the picture doesn't look it) and there were all kinds of people wandering around. It was pretty neat. It looked like God took his paintbrush and started having fun.
I'm leaning down to smell the flowers. Some of the tulips had great aromas - these ones were better looking than smelling. However, they were one of my favorites. I love the color combination.
The day was sunny (although the picture doesn't look it) and there were all kinds of people wandering around. It was pretty neat. It looked like God took his paintbrush and started having fun.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
What Makes Music "Christian"?
I started this post on 3/14 and now it's 4/10. I've given up on any more additions or editing. Here it is!
I received this message from a friend. Apparently I'm open to blog requests:
I took the time today to look up the lyrics to a Natalie Merchant song that they play often on one of my Live365 stations... the song is "Kind & Generous". Trying to track down a bit more information, I came across this website: http://www.ccvonline.com/Arena/default.aspx?page=2082. I was curious about what your response might be to this question: why is Natalie Merchant in the left column instead of the right column in the table, and should she be? Perhaps you could write a blog post about that.
Here's my response:
I took a music appreciation course in college taught by a great professor, Dr. Shantz (I think that was his name). Dr. Shantz is an older man whose favorite band is Metallica. He also taught a course called The Theology of Rock n' Roll, which I didn't take, but which he talked about a lot.
One aspect of class that stood out to me is that one way to evaluate the quality of music is a piece's "fittingness-intensity." I think I previously mentioned this in the post about O Holy Night. The idea of fittingness-intensity is that the lyrics or subject matter of the song is reflected in the music. For example, the song O Happy Day sung to the melody of a funeral dirge would have poor fittingness-intensity.
What does this have to do with my friend's question? The music class started me thinking about music differently, and here's how:
I think music must be a large part of God's character. It is so universal, and since humans are created in God's image, it seems a logical conclusion. Like other forms of art, music is a gift from God to humanity, just because he's good. I also think that people, regardless of their religious affiliation or lack of, can sing and write about truth. Isn't it Ironic by Alanis Morisette is about the despair we feel when something that feels so right is out of reach.
So what makes music "Christian"?
It's not that an artist is signed by a Christian label. Quite frankly, I'm pretty skeptical about the whole so-called Christian entertainment industry. They are in it for the money, and sign artists that will be profitable.
It's not that the lyrics talk about God, religious or spiritual things. A lot of songs have these themes and aren't at what I would call Christian. And what about all the religious Bach pieces that don't have lyrics at all?
To give any piece of music a Christian label does it a misservice. The Bible says "whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things." So what if a song, like Kind and Generous is not sung by a Christian artist or produced by a Christian label? What if a great instrumental piece like Classical Gas makes me feel good? Are these secular songs unChristian? I suppose they are, but I think they are good things to listen to.
I received this message from a friend. Apparently I'm open to blog requests:
I took the time today to look up the lyrics to a Natalie Merchant song that they play often on one of my Live365 stations... the song is "Kind & Generous". Trying to track down a bit more information, I came across this website: http://www.ccvonline.com/Arena/default.aspx?page=2082. I was curious about what your response might be to this question: why is Natalie Merchant in the left column instead of the right column in the table, and should she be? Perhaps you could write a blog post about that.
Here's my response:
I took a music appreciation course in college taught by a great professor, Dr. Shantz (I think that was his name). Dr. Shantz is an older man whose favorite band is Metallica. He also taught a course called The Theology of Rock n' Roll, which I didn't take, but which he talked about a lot.
One aspect of class that stood out to me is that one way to evaluate the quality of music is a piece's "fittingness-intensity." I think I previously mentioned this in the post about O Holy Night. The idea of fittingness-intensity is that the lyrics or subject matter of the song is reflected in the music. For example, the song O Happy Day sung to the melody of a funeral dirge would have poor fittingness-intensity.
What does this have to do with my friend's question? The music class started me thinking about music differently, and here's how:
I think music must be a large part of God's character. It is so universal, and since humans are created in God's image, it seems a logical conclusion. Like other forms of art, music is a gift from God to humanity, just because he's good. I also think that people, regardless of their religious affiliation or lack of, can sing and write about truth. Isn't it Ironic by Alanis Morisette is about the despair we feel when something that feels so right is out of reach.
So what makes music "Christian"?
It's not that an artist is signed by a Christian label. Quite frankly, I'm pretty skeptical about the whole so-called Christian entertainment industry. They are in it for the money, and sign artists that will be profitable.
It's not that the lyrics talk about God, religious or spiritual things. A lot of songs have these themes and aren't at what I would call Christian. And what about all the religious Bach pieces that don't have lyrics at all?
To give any piece of music a Christian label does it a misservice. The Bible says "whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things." So what if a song, like Kind and Generous is not sung by a Christian artist or produced by a Christian label? What if a great instrumental piece like Classical Gas makes me feel good? Are these secular songs unChristian? I suppose they are, but I think they are good things to listen to.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
My New Routine - Revisited
I did well on the 5:30 a.m. workout with Sonja for about a week. Then I got sick and missed two weeks. During that time, Sonja moved to Hillsboro (it was a somewhat unplanned move). So I lost my workout buddy. But on the plus side, I don't have to meet her at 5:30.
I've been going consistently for almost two weeks now, from 6:30-7:30 a.m. It's going pretty good - I come home and get ready for work. And as an extra perk, I'm getting to work on time; something I always struggle with (I really like being in bed!).
I should make some friends at the gym, maybe it will help me stay consistent. I am at the nodding in recognition stage with a few people that are always there. And this morning I happened to be on the treadmill next to a woman I go to church with. That was fun. Of course, I speed walk while she trains for the Boston Marathon... Maybe I'll pick another machine next time.
I've been going consistently for almost two weeks now, from 6:30-7:30 a.m. It's going pretty good - I come home and get ready for work. And as an extra perk, I'm getting to work on time; something I always struggle with (I really like being in bed!).
I should make some friends at the gym, maybe it will help me stay consistent. I am at the nodding in recognition stage with a few people that are always there. And this morning I happened to be on the treadmill next to a woman I go to church with. That was fun. Of course, I speed walk while she trains for the Boston Marathon... Maybe I'll pick another machine next time.
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Book Club Excitement
Sometimes my friends are amused at how entertaining I find my book club. Reading World War Z has so impacted my life, that I hope I'm at work rather than home when the Zombies arrive because it's a much easier position to defend.
Friday night was the most recent book club meeting. After discussing the book, we watched Dawn of the Dead. That's right; a zombie movie. I thought that it was common knowledge that if you're bitten by a zombie you become a zombie. My friend Anna said, "No Sarah, everyone does not know that." Which is silly, because what will they do when the zombies get here?
Anyway, when I arrived at the house that evening, I saw that the entire left side of their long driveway was empty. Score, I thought. I turned in, felt something crunch under my tires, and stopped. Tried to back up. Tried to pull forward. I didn't move.
I got out of the car; the driver's side wasn't on anything. I walked in front of the car, and onto a pile of gravel. The right side was firmly wedged into the pile. I went inside, and told Anna. She said, "I should have told you guys not to park in the driveway." Lee arrived, and before he got in the door, I solicited his help. He said, "Cool, I have a tow chain in the Jeep I haven't had a chance to use yet!" I told him that if I put the car in neutral, he should be able to just push me out.
We went outside, and Lee pushed. Then I put it in reverse and tried to help him push. Then he got the tow chain.
As Lee was attaching the chain, a man walked up. "Are you here for book club?" I asked. He said yes, and I told him he's at the right house; go on in.
After a couple tries, the tow chain worked. Lee said I owe him now, but I'm not sure that my little Hyundai can return that kind of favor. Nonetheless, I am indebted to Lee.
Book club never lets me down!
Friday night was the most recent book club meeting. After discussing the book, we watched Dawn of the Dead. That's right; a zombie movie. I thought that it was common knowledge that if you're bitten by a zombie you become a zombie. My friend Anna said, "No Sarah, everyone does not know that." Which is silly, because what will they do when the zombies get here?
Anyway, when I arrived at the house that evening, I saw that the entire left side of their long driveway was empty. Score, I thought. I turned in, felt something crunch under my tires, and stopped. Tried to back up. Tried to pull forward. I didn't move.
I got out of the car; the driver's side wasn't on anything. I walked in front of the car, and onto a pile of gravel. The right side was firmly wedged into the pile. I went inside, and told Anna. She said, "I should have told you guys not to park in the driveway." Lee arrived, and before he got in the door, I solicited his help. He said, "Cool, I have a tow chain in the Jeep I haven't had a chance to use yet!" I told him that if I put the car in neutral, he should be able to just push me out.
We went outside, and Lee pushed. Then I put it in reverse and tried to help him push. Then he got the tow chain.
As Lee was attaching the chain, a man walked up. "Are you here for book club?" I asked. He said yes, and I told him he's at the right house; go on in.
After a couple tries, the tow chain worked. Lee said I owe him now, but I'm not sure that my little Hyundai can return that kind of favor. Nonetheless, I am indebted to Lee.
Book club never lets me down!
Being a Kid
On Sunday I went to Salem to visit my sister and her family - the one with three kids. The weather was fantastic; clear, cool, and sunny. Rene was at the Oregon School for the Deaf, where there's a great playground and a lot of fields. Her friend, Kate, and her husband and two daughters were there as well. Kate's husband was flying his remote-controlled airplane. It only turned right, so it kept making big circles and then crashing.
After a few minutes, Rene, Kate and I took the five kids to the playground, a short distance away and on the other side of a building. Being the indulgent aunt that I am, I played whole-heartedly with the kids. Kate said I reverted.
At the swings, Sebastien (4 years old) kept saying, "Do a underdog!" and "Look how high I am!" Olivia (2 years old) has started imitating everything Sebastien does, so she sat on the swing next to him and said "me! me!" Sebastien was no help at all - telling me to do an underdog for Olivia. It's tons of fun to play rough with Sebastien, but he doesn't understand that a two year-old isn't quite big enough for a full, run-under-the-swing push like he is. Of course, if I spent two minutes pushing Olivia, Sebastien started begging me to do another underdog. Sean (1 year-old) hasn't decided to walk yet, so he was confined to the stroller. From which he kept trying escape.
When we left the park, I joined Rene and crew for dinner at their house. I watched VeggieTales with the kids while Rene and Bryan fixed dinner. In the middle of everything, people came over to look at some furniture that Rene is selling. They came in the door, and Sebastien was all over the introductions. He told them his name and age, his siblings' names and ages, and "this is my mom." The family included a 4 year-old girl, and Sebastien quickly instigated a game of hide-and-seek. I think their 10 year-old daughter was amused.
At the dinner table, Sebastien asked me, "Sarah, are you a kid?"
"Why?" I asked, "Do I act like one?"
He smiled shyly (or slyly), "Yes."
I told him that I like him so much that I act like a kid sometimes. It was very sweet.
After a few minutes, Rene, Kate and I took the five kids to the playground, a short distance away and on the other side of a building. Being the indulgent aunt that I am, I played whole-heartedly with the kids. Kate said I reverted.
At the swings, Sebastien (4 years old) kept saying, "Do a underdog!" and "Look how high I am!" Olivia (2 years old) has started imitating everything Sebastien does, so she sat on the swing next to him and said "me! me!" Sebastien was no help at all - telling me to do an underdog for Olivia. It's tons of fun to play rough with Sebastien, but he doesn't understand that a two year-old isn't quite big enough for a full, run-under-the-swing push like he is. Of course, if I spent two minutes pushing Olivia, Sebastien started begging me to do another underdog. Sean (1 year-old) hasn't decided to walk yet, so he was confined to the stroller. From which he kept trying escape.
When we left the park, I joined Rene and crew for dinner at their house. I watched VeggieTales with the kids while Rene and Bryan fixed dinner. In the middle of everything, people came over to look at some furniture that Rene is selling. They came in the door, and Sebastien was all over the introductions. He told them his name and age, his siblings' names and ages, and "this is my mom." The family included a 4 year-old girl, and Sebastien quickly instigated a game of hide-and-seek. I think their 10 year-old daughter was amused.
At the dinner table, Sebastien asked me, "Sarah, are you a kid?"
"Why?" I asked, "Do I act like one?"
He smiled shyly (or slyly), "Yes."
I told him that I like him so much that I act like a kid sometimes. It was very sweet.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
What I Deserve
I've been thinking lately about what I deserve, especially when it comes to dating. People who know me will say things like, "You deserve so much more than [blank]." The blank is filled in with a variety of problems that are common in our society (many of the single men I know are divorced, have kids, or used to live with a girlfriend). They say this to me because I've led a pretty clean life, by the world's standards: I'm not divorced, I don't smoke, I've not done anything that I'm ashamed of with past boyfriends, and so on.
But why should I deserve anything? Why have I let myself be deceived into thinking I have to be worthy of someone, or vice versa?
Perhaps the fundamental tenet of my beliefs is that God is holy, and humans are sinful. That means no matter the sin, we're separated from God. Sin cannot be in his presence. However, through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, God has made a way for us to be pure; to be in his presence. He promises that if we confess and repent, he will cleanse us from all our sin.
I've been pondering this. I believe it regarding people's individual relationships with God. The murderer receives just as much grace as the liar. But how does that change my relationship with them? If someone has become a child of God, their sins wiped away, how should I view him or her? Should I allow the murderer in my home and take the liar at his word?
The short answer is: yes. If that person is pure before God, who am I to judge?
But the Bible gives some guidance. If someone claims to be a child of God, there is evidence for which to look. This person's life should show love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness and self-control. Confession and repentance before God are essential, and if a person is serious, God will start developing this evidence in his or her life. That person and I are the same in God's eyes, siblings in the Lord's family with a parent who shows no favoritism.
So back to the original question: What do I deserve?
It's the wrong question. I deserve nothing, just as the greatest criminal deserves nothing. I am a child of God. He loves me, he has all the resources in the universe at his disposal, and he only wants what is best for me. What has an infant done to deserve a parent's love? God loves me even more than a mother loves her new child. If God chooses to bless me with someone the world might term "undeserving", should I doubt him? Who knows best - God or our culture? I guess this could all be an excercise in trust. Yes, I believe that however God works in my life, it is best.
But why should I deserve anything? Why have I let myself be deceived into thinking I have to be worthy of someone, or vice versa?
Perhaps the fundamental tenet of my beliefs is that God is holy, and humans are sinful. That means no matter the sin, we're separated from God. Sin cannot be in his presence. However, through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, God has made a way for us to be pure; to be in his presence. He promises that if we confess and repent, he will cleanse us from all our sin.
I've been pondering this. I believe it regarding people's individual relationships with God. The murderer receives just as much grace as the liar. But how does that change my relationship with them? If someone has become a child of God, their sins wiped away, how should I view him or her? Should I allow the murderer in my home and take the liar at his word?
The short answer is: yes. If that person is pure before God, who am I to judge?
But the Bible gives some guidance. If someone claims to be a child of God, there is evidence for which to look. This person's life should show love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness and self-control. Confession and repentance before God are essential, and if a person is serious, God will start developing this evidence in his or her life. That person and I are the same in God's eyes, siblings in the Lord's family with a parent who shows no favoritism.
So back to the original question: What do I deserve?
It's the wrong question. I deserve nothing, just as the greatest criminal deserves nothing. I am a child of God. He loves me, he has all the resources in the universe at his disposal, and he only wants what is best for me. What has an infant done to deserve a parent's love? God loves me even more than a mother loves her new child. If God chooses to bless me with someone the world might term "undeserving", should I doubt him? Who knows best - God or our culture? I guess this could all be an excercise in trust. Yes, I believe that however God works in my life, it is best.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Thanksgiving - The Wrap-Up (2)
Some friends and I were recounting road trip stories, and I remembered that I have one more story to share.
The place we stayed a couple nights was a restort in Angel's Rest - about an hour and a half drive from my Grandma's house. My sister had a really great deal where 11 of us could sleep in one condo, which made up for the long drive.
The first couple nights we all had different sleeping arrangments: Rene, her husband Bryan, his mother, my nephew Sebastien, and my other sister Jackie, all stayed at Angel's Rest. My mom, me, Olivia and Sean stayed at Grandma's. Dad hadn't yet arrived.
On Wednesday, all of us went to Angel's Rest for two nights. We had two vehicles: a Jeep Grand Cherokee and a mini-van. Dad was driving the mini-van and was following the Jeep because he didn't know how to get to the condo. In the van was my mom in the passenger seat, Jackie and Sean in the middle seat, and me in the back. It was pretty late, so we gave Sean a bottle and expected him to fall asleep.
Sean finished the bottle, but was still awake. He began crying, so I put water in his bottle, hoping to pacify him long enough for sleep to kick in. It didn't work.
Sean cried.
And cried.
And screamed.
By this time, we were in the middle of nowhere; it was all rolling fields and pastureland. Traffic was heavy (being a holiday weekend and all). Dad finally pulls over and says, "You have to do something about that kid. I can't drive with him screaming."
"Well, since we're stopped, I have to go pee," Jackie says, and proceeds to get out of the minivan with the intention of using the van to cover her bathroom break. She caught me by surprise; that girl has very little reservations about certain things!
As soon as she slid the door closed, Dad yells over Sean's screams, "Tell me when she's down!"
"She's down!" I yelled back.
That was Dad's cue, and he let the van roll forward, leaving Jackie exposed in more ways than one.
The three of us inside laughed.
And laughed.
And then I needed a bathroom.
A few second's later, Jackie banged on the window (which scared Sean into screaming more). Then she went and took cover behind the highway barrier.
By this time, mom is holding Sean and trying to calm him down. We got back on the road, and after about 40 minutes of mom cooing and cuddling, Sean fell asleep. Of course, we got lost once we arrived in Angel's Rest, but it was completely worth it.
Jackie was a good sport. She laughed right along with us. Of course she could do so comfortably; she didn't need a toilet!
The place we stayed a couple nights was a restort in Angel's Rest - about an hour and a half drive from my Grandma's house. My sister had a really great deal where 11 of us could sleep in one condo, which made up for the long drive.
The first couple nights we all had different sleeping arrangments: Rene, her husband Bryan, his mother, my nephew Sebastien, and my other sister Jackie, all stayed at Angel's Rest. My mom, me, Olivia and Sean stayed at Grandma's. Dad hadn't yet arrived.
On Wednesday, all of us went to Angel's Rest for two nights. We had two vehicles: a Jeep Grand Cherokee and a mini-van. Dad was driving the mini-van and was following the Jeep because he didn't know how to get to the condo. In the van was my mom in the passenger seat, Jackie and Sean in the middle seat, and me in the back. It was pretty late, so we gave Sean a bottle and expected him to fall asleep.
Sean finished the bottle, but was still awake. He began crying, so I put water in his bottle, hoping to pacify him long enough for sleep to kick in. It didn't work.
Sean cried.
And cried.
And screamed.
By this time, we were in the middle of nowhere; it was all rolling fields and pastureland. Traffic was heavy (being a holiday weekend and all). Dad finally pulls over and says, "You have to do something about that kid. I can't drive with him screaming."
"Well, since we're stopped, I have to go pee," Jackie says, and proceeds to get out of the minivan with the intention of using the van to cover her bathroom break. She caught me by surprise; that girl has very little reservations about certain things!
As soon as she slid the door closed, Dad yells over Sean's screams, "Tell me when she's down!"
"She's down!" I yelled back.
That was Dad's cue, and he let the van roll forward, leaving Jackie exposed in more ways than one.
The three of us inside laughed.
And laughed.
And then I needed a bathroom.
A few second's later, Jackie banged on the window (which scared Sean into screaming more). Then she went and took cover behind the highway barrier.
By this time, mom is holding Sean and trying to calm him down. We got back on the road, and after about 40 minutes of mom cooing and cuddling, Sean fell asleep. Of course, we got lost once we arrived in Angel's Rest, but it was completely worth it.
Jackie was a good sport. She laughed right along with us. Of course she could do so comfortably; she didn't need a toilet!
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Thanksgiving - The Wrap-Up
This will be my last post recounting my fun Thanksgiving vacation. I know, it's February, but I can't help wanting to share these stories with my vast readership.
My parents and I all had separate flight arrangements for flying in and out of Oakland. On the way there, my mom's flight time coincided with mine, and we each took one kid (my nephew Sean and neice Olivia). I got a lot of looks because Olivia is so cute, and she had a teddy backpack/stuffed animal with a leash, so I wouldn't lose her. She insisted on putting the teddy on her tummy instead of her back because she wanted to hold him. People were very nice to us.
On the way home, my dad and I were on the same flight and took the same two kids.
It was quite the production; a luggage cart, two car seats, a stroller, diaper bag and luggage. Once we checked in it was a bit easier, but we kept the luggage cart for all our carry-on stuff. It's impossible to push one kid in stroller, keep an eye on the 2-year old and carry all the stuff that two kids require.
We were in line for the security check. After the hassle of taking off the kids' shoes and dumping out the sippy cup (hazardous material, you know), I had a bottle of nail polish thrown away. Normally I would have protested, and probably kept the nail polish, but I was so tired of taking care of all the little things (plus I was pretty sick) and Olivia was ready to run down the hallway, that I let it go. I don't know how single mothers do it.
The entire time I was alone with my dad, we got some strange looks from people. My dad commented, "I don't know who they think worse of, you or me." I replied, "Both of us. You're the dirty old man and I'm the greedy twenty-something". We corrected many people who referred to my dad as the kids' father. It wasn't worth the effort to tell them they aren't my kids, either.
We flew Southwest. My dad, the savvy traveller, gave me some tips for getting a seat to myself on the plane. We loaded first, and I took an aisle seat toward the front of the cabin with two seats next to me. It was amazing how people saw the kid with me and walked by. One guy was about to sit down with his wife, saw Olivia, and said, "Never mind". It was somewhat comical. Some poor high school basketball player ended up in the window seat, and a nice older woman sat next to me.
Fortunately, the kids were incredibly well behaved. Sean slept most of the time, and Olivia charmed everyone she met.
Now I understand that the appearance of a 26 year difference between parents of young kids looks bad. But why do people assume the worst? Why is being a single mother so much better than being married to an older man? Our society is strange.
My parents and I all had separate flight arrangements for flying in and out of Oakland. On the way there, my mom's flight time coincided with mine, and we each took one kid (my nephew Sean and neice Olivia). I got a lot of looks because Olivia is so cute, and she had a teddy backpack/stuffed animal with a leash, so I wouldn't lose her. She insisted on putting the teddy on her tummy instead of her back because she wanted to hold him. People were very nice to us.
On the way home, my dad and I were on the same flight and took the same two kids.
It was quite the production; a luggage cart, two car seats, a stroller, diaper bag and luggage. Once we checked in it was a bit easier, but we kept the luggage cart for all our carry-on stuff. It's impossible to push one kid in stroller, keep an eye on the 2-year old and carry all the stuff that two kids require.
We were in line for the security check. After the hassle of taking off the kids' shoes and dumping out the sippy cup (hazardous material, you know), I had a bottle of nail polish thrown away. Normally I would have protested, and probably kept the nail polish, but I was so tired of taking care of all the little things (plus I was pretty sick) and Olivia was ready to run down the hallway, that I let it go. I don't know how single mothers do it.
The entire time I was alone with my dad, we got some strange looks from people. My dad commented, "I don't know who they think worse of, you or me." I replied, "Both of us. You're the dirty old man and I'm the greedy twenty-something". We corrected many people who referred to my dad as the kids' father. It wasn't worth the effort to tell them they aren't my kids, either.
We flew Southwest. My dad, the savvy traveller, gave me some tips for getting a seat to myself on the plane. We loaded first, and I took an aisle seat toward the front of the cabin with two seats next to me. It was amazing how people saw the kid with me and walked by. One guy was about to sit down with his wife, saw Olivia, and said, "Never mind". It was somewhat comical. Some poor high school basketball player ended up in the window seat, and a nice older woman sat next to me.
Fortunately, the kids were incredibly well behaved. Sean slept most of the time, and Olivia charmed everyone she met.
Now I understand that the appearance of a 26 year difference between parents of young kids looks bad. But why do people assume the worst? Why is being a single mother so much better than being married to an older man? Our society is strange.
My New Routine
Yesterday at lunch a coworker, Sonja, was telling me about her new morning routine of going to the gym from 5:30 to 6:30. Her gym is near my house, so I stopped by on my way home from work.
Forty-five minutes later, I was the latest member of Bally's. This morning I was up at 5:15, brushed my teeth, and met Sonja at 5:30. It was fun, and by the grace of God, I was alert. I suspect I'll be less alert around 1:30 this afternoon. Tomorrow we'll do 1/2 an hour of weights before the cardio.
I'm pretty excited. I've been wanting to get up early to workout for a long time, but I haven't had anyone to do it with. I could get out of bed and walk around the neighborhood, but of course I don't. Knowing that Sonja expects me to be there is the last kick I needed to get out of bed this morning.
And God was pretty good to me by waking me up at 4:10. I was alert, but tired enough to not want to get up. I realized I had another hour and went back to sleep.
I have 30 days to get out of the gym contract without penalty. We'll see how it goes.
Forty-five minutes later, I was the latest member of Bally's. This morning I was up at 5:15, brushed my teeth, and met Sonja at 5:30. It was fun, and by the grace of God, I was alert. I suspect I'll be less alert around 1:30 this afternoon. Tomorrow we'll do 1/2 an hour of weights before the cardio.
I'm pretty excited. I've been wanting to get up early to workout for a long time, but I haven't had anyone to do it with. I could get out of bed and walk around the neighborhood, but of course I don't. Knowing that Sonja expects me to be there is the last kick I needed to get out of bed this morning.
And God was pretty good to me by waking me up at 4:10. I was alert, but tired enough to not want to get up. I realized I had another hour and went back to sleep.
I have 30 days to get out of the gym contract without penalty. We'll see how it goes.
The American University In Cairo
Last week I submitted my application to AUC. The deadline was February 1, and I've known since September that I want to apply. Why do I put things like this off? I hate how I procrastinate, and yet I'm not motivated to do anything about it.
Anyway, the check I sent for the application fee cleared the bank, so they obviously received the application.
It's in God's hands now. The program I'm applying for is the Masters in Teaching English as a Foreign Language (TEFL). This is different from some other programs (e.g., TESL, TESOL) mainly in that I will be learning to teach English in places where English is not the national language. With a degree like this, I can teach in almost any university or educational institution in the world.
I don't like big decisions like this. How do I know which path is the best? I could stay here in a job I like and enjoy my family and friends. I could go to AUC. I could go to the UAE and work with college students there (another potential opportunity). I applied for a teaching fellowship AUC awards. It pays for everything, including a monthly stipend. If I get that, I'll consider it a big neon arrow from God saying, "Go this way". If not, what do I do? Finance my own education? Take option 1?
My sister once said to me, "Don't worry about it. You know God's voice and he won't lead you wrong." That was comforting to me then and it still is. I guess with every decision I make, I'll trust that God is in control and knows better than I do what is best.
I just hate it when all the options are good.
Anyway, the check I sent for the application fee cleared the bank, so they obviously received the application.
It's in God's hands now. The program I'm applying for is the Masters in Teaching English as a Foreign Language (TEFL). This is different from some other programs (e.g., TESL, TESOL) mainly in that I will be learning to teach English in places where English is not the national language. With a degree like this, I can teach in almost any university or educational institution in the world.
I don't like big decisions like this. How do I know which path is the best? I could stay here in a job I like and enjoy my family and friends. I could go to AUC. I could go to the UAE and work with college students there (another potential opportunity). I applied for a teaching fellowship AUC awards. It pays for everything, including a monthly stipend. If I get that, I'll consider it a big neon arrow from God saying, "Go this way". If not, what do I do? Finance my own education? Take option 1?
My sister once said to me, "Don't worry about it. You know God's voice and he won't lead you wrong." That was comforting to me then and it still is. I guess with every decision I make, I'll trust that God is in control and knows better than I do what is best.
I just hate it when all the options are good.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
World War Z
For my bookclub this month we read World War Z by Max Brooks. It was really good - I read it on New Year's Day. The book is about the world's war against the zombies. A virus has taken over earth and turns people into zombies. Infection spreads through exposing blood to any part of Zombie matter, and you know you're infected if you're bitten.
Saturday night I dreamed that I was infected. I had yet to go into a coma, flatline and resuscitate, but I knew I only had a day or two. Some of my friends were with me, including one who isn't a Christian. He and I were running around trying to avoid being shot, the only option for the infected. Some other friends were trying to help us off the island where we were, and onto the mainland, where we had a greater chance of survival.
I could feel the virus taking hold. My eyes were red and my skin itchy. As my friends were helping us off the island, I was desperately trying to share with my unbelieving friend how much Jesus loves him. My friends were trying to help me, but I couldn't seem to get the message out clearly.
When I woke up Sunday morning, I had zombies on my mind. I went to church, and just as the service was starting, I stepped out to take a phone call. I was talking to my sister, looked up, and there is a couple from my bookclub! It was a happy coincidence, as I had the book in my car with the intention of bringing it to them that afternoon. This couple does not normally attend my church.
Later in the week at bookclub, we talked about our zombie survival strategies, and what our role would be in the reconstruction of society. It was quite fun.
But the thing that sticks with me is how, in my dream, I was so anxious for my friend to understand the love of Jesus. I couldn't die (or become a zombie) without making every effort to tell him. I only hope that I'll have the opportunity in my waking life to do so soon.
Saturday night I dreamed that I was infected. I had yet to go into a coma, flatline and resuscitate, but I knew I only had a day or two. Some of my friends were with me, including one who isn't a Christian. He and I were running around trying to avoid being shot, the only option for the infected. Some other friends were trying to help us off the island where we were, and onto the mainland, where we had a greater chance of survival.
I could feel the virus taking hold. My eyes were red and my skin itchy. As my friends were helping us off the island, I was desperately trying to share with my unbelieving friend how much Jesus loves him. My friends were trying to help me, but I couldn't seem to get the message out clearly.
When I woke up Sunday morning, I had zombies on my mind. I went to church, and just as the service was starting, I stepped out to take a phone call. I was talking to my sister, looked up, and there is a couple from my bookclub! It was a happy coincidence, as I had the book in my car with the intention of bringing it to them that afternoon. This couple does not normally attend my church.
Later in the week at bookclub, we talked about our zombie survival strategies, and what our role would be in the reconstruction of society. It was quite fun.
But the thing that sticks with me is how, in my dream, I was so anxious for my friend to understand the love of Jesus. I couldn't die (or become a zombie) without making every effort to tell him. I only hope that I'll have the opportunity in my waking life to do so soon.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
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