Sorry

Ugh so time has been rather tight. My family's computer broke so I haven't been able to post and my time on the computer is limited now, so Ill fill you in on all of the happenings rapid fire, ready? ( please disregard the spelling / grammar mistakes :)

- Red Sea most amazing thing ever. Glowing plankton and red moons.
- Khan Elkhallili fighting with random Egyptian men in Arabic to get the best price on gifts.
- 6 Oct. pretty much the best place in Egypt.
- I get bit from a strange and violent bug on my lip, it swells to the size of a golf ball. funniest / most embarrassing thing ever.
-Egyptian husband ? uh we'll talk about that later.
- Sheesha :)
- Alexandria = the most boring place in Egypt. CAIRO ALL DAY !
- Go to see the movie Inception with some friends, great movie I would recommend it to anyone who likes thought provoking movies. Its making me consider studying Philosophy in college.
- So Im loving Egypt now my 6 Oct friends yanked me right out of my little depression.


Now a random shout out to my parents. Mommy and Poppy I love you both so much. Thank you for everything really really really I appreciate it. I wouldn't be where I am now without your love support open mindedness, and money (lol) Love you Tre ! Being here in Egypt made me realize a lot.

And to my followers keep following ! it means the world ! More to come soon

Upper Egypt

Before I left for Cairo I saw Chuck Bass in the airport. I've never watched Gossip Girl and Im not really one to follow the tabloids so I had no idea who this guy was, but this did not stop me from running up to him and taking a picture of him and with him....

I spend this past weekend in Upper Egypt in a poor peasant village out side of Mallawy. Imagine a series of maze like streets made of packed down animal dung and enclosed by hand made brick apartments. Here people keep animals, ducks and cows in their homes, the women move like spirits veiled behind full faces hijabs, and the children run bare foot through the streets wearing the clothes that we donate in those clothing bins behind shopping malls and Wal-Marts.

The minute I stepped out of the car, I was Chuck Bass. Literally every single child and even some adults followed me like a parade of curious babies through the street. Staring with wide and eager eyes, the bold ones shouted out any phase they knew in English " Alo" " I Love you" " Whattt iss yourrrr naammeee" and at one point I stopped to tie my shoe. The mass enclosed me hands everywhere, touching my hair, a pinch here and there, questions buzzing from every side. A man had to come with a sick and shoo them all away. When I sat down to eat, a boy had to stand at the door just so that we could eat in peace. Everywhere I went I was followed by an army of eyes, wondering and watching. A little girl (age 6) with amber eyes and pigtails made herself my personal bodyguard. Held my hand, guided me, and once another little girl said something fresh she smacked her in the face! We never spoke this little girl and I but before I left I gave her a piece of candy for her trouble; her faced looked as if I'd given her gold. The first day I was in good spirits, I would wave and smile, the next day the well water was not sitting well with me but still I had to grit my teeth pretend everything was alright. Through this ordeal I thought back to Chuck Bass, and thought wow this is what he must feel everyday, poor guy. I wish I hadn't taken that picture of him in the airport.

The women came to life indoors when they lifted their veils, the danced and laughed, and loved their children. There was a wedding this weekend. We visited the brides flat where we were welcomed by more women, dancing and playing drums. As I sat there and watched the bride ( age 19 which is considered very old to get married)I couldn't help seeing a hint of sadness. During the ceremony she sat there with a forced closed mouth smile watching the festivities below.

The last day I was there the men took me to see some ancient ruins. They were amazing. I couldn't believe how nice and generous everyone was. while pulling off I thought to myself was a sweet, simple caring people. My host father began asking me what I thought of the village, how I liked it and such. We began talking about the women. He told me that basically their lives consist of school until age 14 if they are lucky, marriage by age 15, then pretty much just sit around and wait to get pregnant. Also, if a man suspects promiscuity its not uncommon for a woman to get "circumcised". As he continued a sick feeling began brewing in the pit of my belly. That little girl, the one with amber eyes and pigtails, was just to be a "baby maker". No work, no school, not even privileged to marry a man she loves, just a baby maker. We visited an old women by the ruins, they told me that she spent her entire life basically in that room. Cooking cleaning, watching. The men tried convince her to attend the wedding festivities, she wouldn't even leave to do that.

I want to do something. Want to go back and move them away from there, want to give them books on feminism, do something! But I guess the worse part of all of this is knowing that I cant. Knowing that I must understand that this is the culture. I must force myself to understand, even if I don't think its right.

A Day

So people have been asking what my daily schedule is like well...

I get up at 6:30 everyday, then walk for about a quarter of a mile to the side of the highway ... yes side of the highway, where I then proceed to flag down a microbus. What is a microbus you might ask? Its a privately owned mini van that costs one pound. It has no specific route and you must shout a to the driver where you'd like to go and pray that hes going that way. This past week I had quite a the microbus fiasco, I didnt specify where I wanted to go and I ended up in the middle of nowhere and had to call me host dad to come and get me.
If all goes well on the micro bus I then proceed to walk a bit more to the metro station take it about 15 mins to Sadat, then power walk about a mile or so more to Garden City and hope that I make it to school on time.

Then School school school school.

The way home is an adventure in itself. I then take a mini bus to a mosque, findo micro busses and proceed to ask in my broken arabic, if they are going in the direction that I need. Sometimes Ill find a sweet old dirver who understands that I'm not from here and helps me out, but usually the drivers arent so nice.

I often times wonder why I do this I could complain, whine, ask the government to provide me with a private car, but truly this is Egypt. People playing frogger across busy highways with their lives, being stuck between the busom of some lady in the womans car on the train, handing your money down an assmbly line of perfect strangers on the bus, yes this is Egypt. And from these enlightening and sometimes terrifying experiences slowly but surely I am learning to understand the spirit of the Egyptian people.

Pyramids

Quite frankly I thought they would be so much more than they were. The tourists were annoying and disrespectful to the Egyptain culture, heat sun was vicious, and the more time i spent there the more annoyed I became. Uncle Green Eyed man told me that the Pyramids might "speak" to me, and this may sound odd, but they did. I felt they were angry, mad that throughout the centuries they have continually been disrespected, disected, and neglected. I mean graves with gum on them, people allowed to go into the Pyramids, ugh there were so many things that were'nt right...

Over all I'm content, loving my family, a bit frustrated with the reading arabic, but over all things are good.

Tap Water

To make a long story short my grandfather gave me a bottle of tap water in a normal water bottle the end result one sleepless night and school the next day all drugged up on some arabic pills. Looking back at my ordeal with the tap water I am able to laugh, I am able to say, "Mahyah Masar" I won! with a laugh and the more that I think about it, I think thats how I'll look at all of my problems here in Egypt.

But for now honestly sometimes I feel like giving up, I feel like I did that sleepless night in my sisters bed, helpless and hopeless, I just want to sit there and cry. The language, the people, the traffic, at times everything is so overwhelming! Moreover, day by day I find my English rapidly becoming poorer! That is the scariest thing for me, the fact that when I sit down to try and write I can only think of the word in Arabic....ugh

I wish I could wow you, write some deep amazing blog about the beauty of Egypt or something, but for now bear with me... the words will come inshaallah...