Sunday, December 12, 2010

long weekend bliss

The past two Sundays we were not allowed to have school. Egypt was scheduled to have parliamentary elections. The reason schools would be closed? Riots. Or at least the possibility. Of course elections in this country are a bit of a joke - very few people are allowed to vote, the results are decided ahead of time ...

But what is a girl to do with two 3 day weekends in a row??? Explore Egypt, of course!

Long weekend numero uno was a close to home affair.

Now I have previously written about things we call "Egypt Tacky," but this place takes the cake.


I present to you The Japanese Gardens of Helwan. I went with a friend as far south as the metro would take us, and then walked into these gardens, which were a gift from the Japanese about a hundred years ago. Who knew that we would find countless Buddha statues in a Muslim nation? It was so wonderfully hilarious. We explored for about an hour, watching little Egyptian children achieve Zen by climbing all over the statues. Egypt Tacky yes please!


Weekend numero dos was a bit more of an adventure, Egypt style.

I had a friend in town from the US, and she wanted to leave Cairo and see something else. In order for me to go with her, we had to see something new to me. So we flew to Aswan, and took a four hour bus ride to see the sun rise at Abu Simbel. This is pretty much the closest you can get to the border of the Sudan, and risk factor is slightly higher than living in Cairo. But we did it anyways.


We were the only two women (and only two white people) on a public bus from Aswan to Abu Simbel. Upon arriving in the town of Abu Simbel, we realized we were the only two people staying at a very sub-par hotel by the bus stop. Sandra looked at me and said "You live in this country. I'm okay if you're okay. I shrugged my shoulders and said "where else are we going to sleep???"

The owner left us at our room with a roll of toilet paper and a can of bug spray saying "I see you morning." We slept with the bugs and the grossness, woke up at 5:15am and headed to the ancient temple of Abu Simbel.
It was pretty amazing, if I do say so myself. The sun came up over Lake Nasser, the largest man made lake in the world, and shone on the temples. The facade of the temples is quite impressive. One toe of the god is bigger than my head!

Sunday, December 5, 2010

Days like today

I'm at an impasse. It is decision time. I have until January 9 to sign next year's contract, and that's pretty much tomorrow. Sometimes I think that I really want to stay here a third year, and enjoy this country and all it's charm. And travel some more. And live cheaply. And attend an amazing church. And hang out with wonderful friends. And learn more about the Middle East. And learn more Arabic.

And then I have a day like today.

I spent the weekend exploring Aswan and Abu Simbel (more on that in a happier post) and arrived home after taking the Red Eye flight up the Nile. I walked into my apartment at 9am, and stopped dead in my tracks. I heard running water.

Now, if you have ever walked into your place of residence after an extended absence and heard running water, you will know why my heart was in my throat, and why I was immediately grabbing for my phone.

I tip-toed into the kitchen. No water. I walked cautiously into the living room, which was dry. As I turned the corner into the bathroom, I was relieved to find the source of my panic. The bath tub faucet was spewing water full blast. Fortunately, it was only into ... the bath tub. I tried to turn off the faucet, but much to my dismay it was already off. What the !@#$?

Here's where the fun begins. I have a tap I can't turn off, it's first thing in the Egyptian morning, and I have to find my Arabic-only boab and ask for help. Here's a rough translation of what I come up with:

"Good morning Rabeya. Water. Not good." (Imagine wide eyes, lots of pointing to my apartment and hands motioning for him to come, with a sense of urgency).

Rabeya inspects the tap, and wanders into the kitchen where he turns off the water source to my apartment. He speaks super quick to me in Arabic, and ends by slowly saying "miya, la'a" (water, no.)

Crap. I've been backpacking for 2 days in the desert, and now I have no running water. I woke up at 5am to catch a flight back to Cairo and I cannot shower.

I call the landlord, and hand the phone to Rabeya. They talk for a while, and the phone is given to me. The Landlord says "miss Shannon, Rabeya will fix, God willing." I know what this means. This means I will be staying with friends until next Thursday, because I will not have running water. This means if God wills it, Rabeya will find a friend who knows more about plumbing than he, and they'll smoke in my bathroom and maybe, if God wills it, eventually fix the pipe.

So I say good-bye to Rabeya and I set about doing all the things you try to do when you are back from vacation: dishes, laundry, cleaning floors. But wait, I don't have water. Hours pass. I go to Rabeya and I say "he coming?" The best I can do. I say plumber, thinking it might be a cognate, but I'm wrong. Rabeya's response? "Key."

I leave the key to my apartment and I go out for lunch with friends, greasy hair and all. At 4pm I return home, thinking maybe, just maybe, the pipes will be fixed. I search out my key, and the boab's wife is pointing at the apartment. "Rabeya fee" (=in). I knock on my own door, and am greeted by the cutest 4 years old boy you've ever seen. He takes me by the hand and leads me to the bathroom, where his dad Rabeya is standing in his bare feet, covered in water, with my broken faucet. Smoking a cigarette. In my apartment.

Rabeya gives me his phone. It is the landlord, and he explains that Sunday is a day off for many service people, and that he cannot find a plumber today. In a city of 28 million people, we do not have a plumber working on Sunday. Then he says that the water must stay off until it is fixed. "Have a good night miss Shannon."

I head to Devin and Ryan's for dinner and a shower, and fill up more water bottles with tap water, so that I can have a water bottle shower in the morning.

At the end of days like today, there are 2 thoughts that will not leave me:

I chose this. I chose this. I chose this.

and,

Can I really do this for another entire school year???

Saturday, November 27, 2010

Israel/Palestine

We ascended to Jerusalem last Friday evening as the sun was setting. Sabbath begins. It's an internal call to prayer, different from what we are used to in Cairo-land.

I've been avoiding my blog this week, trying to figure out what to write about our trip. I'm so naive, and that embarrasses me. Our tour was both religious and political, but I think those two are always going to go together there. Listening to any of our speakers throughout the week assured me of one thing: politics and history are driven by perspective. Our Israeli guide had a very different version of current events than our Palestinian bus driver. They both think they are right, and they both think they know the truth.

All of that aside, Israel is a very beautiful region. Having lived in the desert now for over a year, I can understand, at least geographically, why it was called the promised land. Pomegranates were everywhere, and the nature was incredible. (Either that, or I've just been living in the desert too long).


Walking the streets of old Jerusalem gives new context to my faith. It is irrelevant to me whether or not a lot of the places were the exact location where certain things happened. But I can picture things that I could not previously.

Saturday, November 6, 2010

Egypt tacky and other musings


Where did October go? I am sitting here, days before my mom and Marilyn arrive back in Cairo, thinking about the blur that was October. The expression "time flies when you are having fun" certainly is true!

I'm starting to view life in terms of fresh produce: we've come out of a delicious mango season, followed by pomegranates, and are anxiously awaiting the arrival of strawberry season (yes! in November!).

Being in the same place for a second year has been great, and I think October brought a lot of feelings of déjà vu all over again....

Caroline and Alexandrine arrived from Paris.

We had the Spirit of Giving Auction at the Church. This event raised 50 000 USD for development projects in Egypt. It was an odd 'welcome to Egypt' event for Caro and Alex, but they really enjoyed losing at Blackjack!


School has been flying by. The kids are cracking me up this year. Middle School is good for my ego...(notice the spelling of French and Mademoiselle...)

Living alone here might be one of the best decisions that was ever made for me. I love my apartment, especially these elements, which I call "Egypt tacky."

This couch is bright orange, as is the love seat, and both arm chairs. The tile is orange-y peach, and the decorations are all some shade of orange, peach or pink. That is a tassel. It is also orange.
This Greek god watches me shower every day. Yep, it's creepy.

The best compliment of the month: "wow, Shannon. You cross the road just like a local."

Friday, October 15, 2010

Kuwait


Last weekend Jen and I took advantage of a 4 day weekend to fly to Kuwait. We visited with a fellow Durham/Bowmanville - ite named Katie. Katie and I had never met, but through the wonders of technology had discovered that we were connected through mutual relatives and also through 2 degrees of Dutch separation.

Kuwait was an interesting place. It was a lot like Cairo, except ... not at all. At first, I fell in love with all the things it had that Cairo did not - big grocery stores, organized highways and roads, no harassment of any kind, and lots of good places to shop.


As the days went on, I realized there are aspects of Egypt that I love, and that are not actually 'Middle-Eastern;' they are Egyptian. I missed that everyone is outside here, all the time. Even though it occasionally drives me crazy, I missed that I go to an outdoor market for my food, and a tiny squished up little inside store for my perishables. I missed walking everywhere. I especially missed that when I can't walk, I can take a super cheap taxi.

Having said all of that, Kuwait is beautiful. The Gulf is right there, and there is a beautiful view. The wind blows and being by water all the time makes you feel fresher. There is much, much less garbage on the streets.

I learned that there are more foreigners in Kuwait than Kuwaitis. All the service and retail employees were not Kuwaiti. They were, among other nationalities, Egyptian, Philipino, and Indian.

I learned that Kuwaitis called oil "black gold." This is probably accurate.


It would be fair to say that Kuwait as a whole is not a big fan of Iraq, or of Sadam Hussein. We went to a museum called the "Kuwait house for national works not to forget museum saddam hussain regime crimes." In said museum we watched a pyrotechnic display that showed us the destruction brought on Kuwait by the 'barbarians.' And we learned that "even the air conditioning control centre was harmed by the barbaric invaders." Although I am not a huge fan of Saddam Hussein myself, history was so grossly one-sided it made me laugh.


Katie is deeply involved and is happy there. It was so fun to experience that, to attend church with her, and see where she works. It looks like an amazing place. We were so grateful to have a great host!

It was also great to return to my Cairo: 10 degrees cooler, being whistled at and stared at in the airport, and having a treacherous ride back to Maadi in Mostafa the driver's new car, which he proudly demonstrated to us "goes very very fast."

Monday, September 27, 2010

Mostafa the driver gets ... Married???

This story epitomizes my life here in Egypt - random, loud, late at night, completely unexpected, and one week later still has us saying "um, what???"

Some background:
I have a driver. A chauffeur, if you will. He drives for me, and several of my colleagues. Over the past year he has helped me on many occasions, and also provided hours of entertainment with silly jokes and play on words. His name is Mostafa. We call him Mostafa the driver. When my parents were here, they were instantly enamored with this fun-loving Egyptian.


Last Saturday I got a text from my coworker Tao.
"Do you want to go to Mostafa's wedding? It's tomorrow."

Um, What???


I thought Mostafa was married? Is this his second wife? And, moreover, What???

It is not unusual to be invited to a wedding days before it happens. Mostafa was kind enough to arrange for a van for us, and provide all necessary details, in his Mostafa way. "Yes, yes, 9:30, Degla. Van. No problem."

It is also not unusual for a wedding to be in the middle of the week, very late at night. [late at night for us teacher-types, that is. A 10pm start is early in the evening here in Egypt.]

We met the van at 9:30. We were 8 - four men, four women. The van started driving to the very outskirts of Cairo, past the pyramids and then down a random dirt road. We did not know our driver, and it was not the first time in my 14 months here that I thought, "I've put my life in the hands of a complete stranger. I don't know where I am, or how I would make my way home." At the same moment, one of my fellow travelers said "Isn't this how horror films usually start?" Thank you, fellow traveler, for voicing my thoughts.

Upon arriving at the site of Mostafa the Driver's "wedding," two things became apparent almost immediately.
1. There was not a single woman in sight.
2. We were the guests of honour.

Mostafa the driver greeted us at the van, shaking our hands and welcoming us with his huge Mostafa grin. We entered the wedding 'area' where a bunch of men were sitting around small tables smoking shisha and drinking tea. We were very over-dressed for the occasion. He led us to the very front table, the only one with a table cloth, and the only one with padded chairs. As the evening continued, we were always served our food first, and were on the official wedding videos more than once. (in fact, way more than once).

The music was loud. And as soon as we arrived, it got louder. Shouting across the table louder. Can't hear yourself think Louder. My ears ringing until 5am louder.

A man got up and started singing. My Arabic is not strong, but I heard numbers. As the song continued, other men went up to stage, and started giving him money. Every time, he would sing about the amount the men gave him. They would say something to the singer, which we can only assume was a message for Mostafa, a greeting, or an explanation of whom exactly the money was from.

This went on for hours.

Eventually Mostafa came over to our table to say hello, and bring us a light snack. Tao asked him about the bride and the actual wedding.

"No no, is tomorrow."

Um, What???

There would be no bride that evening. There would be no wedding. So what, then was this?

A bachelor party? What was I doing there?

The anti-climatic ending to the story is that we never figured it out. We left at 1am, after politely explaining that we had to work. The party was still going strong; Mostafa told us it would go on until the wee hours of the morning.

I do know a few things, and please don't read cynicism in these comments.
We were invited as a status symbol for Mostafa. If he could bring foreign guests to his party, he would somehow be elevated in the eyes of his friends and family.

We were invited because we would give a very generous gift. This is true. We did give a very generous gift, inside a card, and no one sang a song about it. :(

The next morning, I asked my sweet little 13 year olds what it was. Classic Middle school moment:

"Ya miss, you should not have been there." End of story, no other explanations needed.

And that, my friends, is Egypt.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Alexandria


Taking advantage of a long weekend and a delayed start to the school year (some things maybe never will change in Egypt-land...) 5 of us headed on a day trip to Alexandria last Saturday. Alex is Egypt's second largest city, and a main hub for Mediterranean sea traffic.

Of course part of the excitement and fun of getting there was choosing a method of transportation and then successfully navigating it. We choose train. I had not yet chosen train as my preferred method of transit, and so was curious to see how/if it would work.

This is no European train. First class is really the only option for foreigners, and as we walked past the economy class, I understood why. First class Egypt = economy class most other places.

No tickets for sale for the train you want? No problem. Just get on the train. And wait a long time for a seat. My French-trained (punny, I know) brain tells me to expect a huge fine for getting on a train without a ticket. My Egypt brain tells me that this would make 100% sense. Just pay when you're on the train, of course.

This is Anjuli standing for almost all of the 3 hour ride. I was given a box to sit on by the kind attendant. We took turns sitting on the box and tipped him well upon arriving.


Alexandria is well known for its fresh sea food, and although I'm not normally a huge fan, this was delicious!

The bay was incredible, and the boats were huge. We strolled the coast with the rest of Egypt, because it was a major holiday.

I will have to return sometime this year, because this beautiful library was unfortunately closed.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Summer

I'm back! To Cairo, to school delays, to my blog...

Summer was fantastic. 3 weeks in Germany, Belgium and France, and then 6 weeks at home. Friends and family, and even more family.

Some highlights...

...Germany,

...Belgium,
...France,...the newest princess,...and my 'wee ones'! [one more not featured, sadly.]
I'm back in Cairo, refreshed and ready for year two. Ramadan is finished, which means I can get things done within a reasonable amount of time. I have a new place to live - alone - and it is beautiful. There are good changes at work, and things are looking WAY up. It's going to be a good round two.

AND, there was a working Internet connection in my new home when I got back after the summer. I'm not sure words can express how monumental of a feat that really was...

Saturday, June 26, 2010

Birthday bashing in Cairo

[Yep, still here, in Cairo. Heat is a much more reasonable 37 C, and believe me, 6 degrees makes a huge difference. Kristin's here, we leave for Germany/Belgium/France on Monday night. School fizzled out today around 2:30 after 4 straight days of doing nothing in an empty classroom. AIS end-of-year procedures are worth an entire other blog...]


My birthday this year, the big 2-7, was celebrated over many days, and in fact will be celebrated once more with a friend in Zamalek tomorrow night! How many people will be able to say, in their lifetime, that they celebrated their birthday in style, on a boat on the Nile river. Well, my mom was able to in March, and now mine too!

Last Wednesday my grade 7 French class threw me a "surprise" party. They of course could not keep secrets, so the only real surprise was that they threw it a day earlier than they had whispered about, so I was completely unprepared for my party. Grade 7 parties involve sugar, cake, more sugar, more cake, and chipsies. (this is the Arabic word for chips). Then we all sit around, the kids spill their drinks, scare Ms. Cooper's baby, and listen to the CD player. The Miss sneaks to her desk to mark.

On Friday the 18th (the actual day of my birthday), I played piano for our weekly worship service at St. John's and then had a lingering lunch with friends.


I threw myself a party this past Wednesday, waiting for Kristin to be in town. It was so nice to have her here, and so wonderful to have all my new friends in Cairo celebrate with me. I brought together groups of friends from Church and School; we took a felucah onto the Nile and hung out for a while. It was a beautiful evening with a beautiful sunset.

All throughout my birthday celebrations, and in these past few days of 'bye-for-now' gatherings, I have been reminded of how blessed I am to be here in Cairo, with many amazing people in my life. Further reflection and wrap-up will happen in another blog, probably after a 5 day time-out at Taizé. For now suffice it to say that I am ready to head home to baby Ella and the rest of my family, but also thankful that I get to come back here for round two in September!

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Life at 45 Celcius...


It's hot.

Air conditioners break.

Power goes out. Regularly. In fact, it went out while I was writing this. Thrice. Hence the broken AC.

When the wind blows it feels like a hair dryer on your face.

At midnight the city comes alive. It is still 35 C.

The street dogs don't have the energy to chase or bark. This is bliss.

Moving quickly from an Air Conditioned apartment to outside makes your skin tingle.

I've stopped cooking. I think that is why Middle Eastern cuisine has so many dips and spreads - most don't involve fire or cooking of any sort. And they're delicious. Hummus, baba ganough, tahina, and my personal favourite (which isn't actually egyptian) lebaneh.

The kids go into shock when they walk into a classroom where the AC is set at 21 C. Then you realize that this is more than twice as cool as it is outside. It's hard to explain to 12 year olds that the only way to combat their 'distinct odor' is to keep the AC at 21. It would help if their maids washed their uniforms more than once a week.

Leaving Cairo in 9 days.

Friday, June 11, 2010

Camel Market


We spent Friday morning at the camel markets. I told someone earlier this week I thought it was a tourist attraction. I couldn't have been more wrong! The 30 AIS teachers who arrived via bus were the only non camel-selling people present, and it was quite a shock.

As you can see from the two videos below, the camel market/auction is not at all like what you would expect from an auction back home. Basically there are camels tied up in flocks (or caravans, I've been told), and there are people hitting them with sticks to keep them in place. As you will also see in the video, the camels don't follow instructions any better than a gr. 7 boy ! SO, it was easy to suddenly be in the way of an errant camel.

The auction part went like this: A group of men stand in a circle chanting/yelling, there's a camel in the centre. All of a sudden the yelling stops, and the camel is sprayed w/ spray paint and taken away. If this sounds organized or clearly laid out, I can assure you it is not!

The other highlight was having my picture taken. Now I had to pay 20 LE to take pictures at the market, but all the men were taking my picture for free. If I had charged money, I could have made a small fortune.





Sunday, June 6, 2010

Winning the Change game

During a recent skype conversation with John, who has been an American in France for 5 years now, we were lamenting how quickly life becomes 'normal' and how difficult that makes updating a blog! John told me everything I did was interesting, so here goes.

I have grown up in a cashless society. I am used to seeing my money go from a paper cheque to an account, where I move it around digitally. When I needed to buy something, I would swipe a little piece of plastic that represented money, and voilà, my purchase was complete. In my wallet at any given time there was rarely more than $80. But that's just me.

Then I moved to Egypt. The idea of credit, or even debit, doesn't really work for the masses here, and I'm not about to 'charge' two dollars worth of carrots, tomatoes and cucumbers. Furthermore, if I tried to charge my vegetables, Mohamed would be so concerned about my well-being, he'd give them to me for free!

So I walk around with cash. At any given time, I will have close to 2000 LE (divide by 5) in my wallet. What makes this more complicated, is that I have to have the right kind of cash to get anywhere. As my friend Jason says "carrying a 200 LE note is like carrying a rupee. Utterly useless." No one ever has any change, even when you know they do.

When my parents were here, we laughed that Tom had to empty his wallet and sort his money every evening. I must admit that sorting cash from all the little pockets and wallets I have is one of my weekend tasks. Also, before they came, I saved small change for 3 months, because I knew there would be lots of taxi driving and small errand-running.

Hence, the change game. Right now, with 30 5 LE bills, I'm winning.


These 5 LE notes are worth more, on a daily basis than this:

Breaking these large notes is all part of the change game. Here's how you play.

1. Purchase approximately 37.50 LE worth of groceries.

2. Hide your face behind your purse, and carefully pull out the 100 LE bill, without letting the cashier see the exact (or smaller) change lurking near by.

Inevitably, the cashier will ask you if you have small change. You say no.

3. The cashier smirks and says, I so sorry, no change."

4. You have a choice. Give in, and keep the 100 LE note for another day, or walk out without your groceries.

5. You chose to walk out! Good job! Because the cashier will 99.9999 % of the time call after you, "I have change!" And she will lift the top drawer of the cash box, to reveal a drawer brimming with small change.

6. Leave the store victorious, knowing that you now own a 5 LE note to give to the taxi driver, who will start the game all over again for you.

7. For bonus points, try playing the Change Game in Arabic.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Ya miss, I need to go to the nurse!

This 'demand' has brought a smile to my face more than once this year. More than one teacher has said, "these children would go to the nurse for a hangnail if I let them!"

Even more ironic, is that the school does not employ a nurse, it employs 2 full time doctors. The students always say nurse though.

I should add that the nurse/doctor/person in a white lab coat will 95% of the time send the sweet innocent not-so-sick children home if they show up in their office.

Here are my favourites:
-My lips are red, can I see the nurse?

-My glasses are broken, can I see the nurse?
Me: what on earth is the doctor going to do with broken glasses???
-Maybe she has more!

-My cheek is bruised, may I go to the nurse?
Me: if you stop punching yourself in the face it will go away, I promise.

But today's conversation was by far the weirdest ... but I guess everything gets weird when there's 20 days of classes left...

Omar comes to class, very pale and sickly looking. [No confidentiality problems here, I see approx. 65 students named Omar every day...]. Omar asks to go to the bathroom, but does not have his book of passes. Miss says "nope."

Omar "I'm going to puke."
Miss: "Go, but please don't come back. You need to go to the nurse.
Omar: "I puked 1st period. I went to the nurse and she said since I didn't have a fever I had to go back to class."

There's something fishy here. Seriously. Either Omar's not really sick, or he didn't really see the doctor... so Miss goes down the hall to the Middle School office. The secretary says, "Omar's mom sent him to school today because he has almost reached his limit of thirty-two absences this school year. He did not go to the nurse this morning but was too embarrassed to tell you the truth. I've checked his records, he's only at 26. I will call the family driver right now for him to be picked up."

For the record, Omar had to disinfect his own desk, chair and textbook before leaving to meet his driver. It only seemed fair.

Another day, another shake of the head...the weekend begins in 18 hours!

Monday, May 10, 2010

Random updates...

I'm writing after a brief excursion outside, where it is 43 C. I am dripping sweat on my computer and willing the electricity to come back on so that I can turn on the AC. (Battery powered computer, yes, I'm pathetic...). Brownouts are common in the heat, because of all the AC and extra electricity needs.
[Middle School teachers recently took the students to task at Ball Hockey. Despite having an almost all Canadian team, and although I scored 2 goals, we were beat 6-5 at the end. There will be another game - I don't lose well, especially to my students!]

We have finally "Sprung ahead" here in Cairo. It makes a huge difference in attitude, heat and the amount of time I spend awake now that the sun doesn't set until around 8pm. Sadly, time falls back again on the first day of Ramadan, so that the majority of the population can eat sooner. With Ramadan starting on August 5, I'll come back in September to a dark city.

Countdowns are on... 9 weeks until I come home, and there's a lot to happen in the mean time! Between church and school I have a lot of friends leaving at the end of this year, and that is sad. The expat community is an ephemeral one, and we send people on with a blessing and a "see you again, friend." It means that June is a month for parties and fun.

[Farewell for now to Anne-Marie who will hopefully (was that an Insh'allah?) be back in Cairo in about 4 months time.]

Teaching is going better. Rather, I'm doing better because I had to stop caring so much. Before you take me as a callous, heartless person, please understand that I do still deeply care about my students; I've just decided to care differently, and give some 12 year old children opportunity to see exactly how decisions and outcomes are related :)

[This birthday celebrator is one of the reasons teaching is going better. I have a very supportive principal who stood up to a parent or two for me. Here he is at his surprise 50th Birthday party.]

I am looking for a new place to live, and after months of sadness and frustration, I'm finally excited about this process. I will be living alone for the first time in my life, a prospect which also finally excites me. Because of the endless social opportunities through work and church, I am not worried about becoming a hermit (and a few good friends have promised that they won't let this happen!). I will have more details on this in a future blog post, or I will be homeless next year.

[A view of downtown Cairo from the previously mentioned birthday party yacht.]

Sunday, April 25, 2010

Sinai Liberation Day


The past two weeks have been close to two of the worst weeks of my teaching career. It would be unprofessional to explain why here, but suffice it to say that a combination of mean teachers, attacking parents and horribly behaved students who have given up like it's already June lead to an unhappy Mademoiselle!

So an email with this message was more than welcome at the end of Wednesday:

Due to Sinai Liberation Day on Sunday, April 25 we will not have school.

Doesn't get much clearer.

Today was a free day - not to be wasted! The only way to describe today is that it felt like one of those perfect mid-July days when you have no where to be and not much important to do. It was a balmy 29C, so after waking up without an alarm clock and reading for an hour, I headed to the gym for a run. Returned home to make banana bread, and then headed to Al Hazar Park for a picnic with my friend Bethany.

Now at home, making dinner and enjoying that I didn't think about school, I did not spend the day cleaning, and I did not waste it in front of the TV.

The other benefit of these 3 day weekends is the 4 day week that follows.

Is this REALLY the last long weekend of the school year???

Saturday, April 10, 2010

Escape

More than once this school year we have escaped to the Red Sea. This city lends itself to escape - every so often I have to leave the smog, honking, dog barking and staring. In February it was Ain Soukna, last weekend it was back to Dahab. Usually the only thing on the agenda is sleep, fun, sun and in Dahab some snorkeling. Beautiful!

My Ain Soukna buddies:
















The calmness of Dahab.

















Other than our Easter trip to Dahab life has been quiet and without adventure. With a renewed commitment to be running at the gym again, tutoring a child 2 afternoons a week and an on-line course, it doesn't matter where I am living - I am just busy with life!

Here is my favourite pictures of Ma'adi in Spring, outside the church
















I will leave you with another French class funny, that is still making me smile, days later.

On a recent test, I asked students, "say your nationality." One child wrote:
"Jesus de Beirut."

Saturday, March 20, 2010

Saturdays...

I meet Jen on Road 9. (We refuse to do this alone).

We cross to Road 7, still in Ma'adi, which we call "Real Egypt."

We walk past the fly covered fruits and veggies stands.

The vendors are used to us, they do not make inappropriate comments or bother us to buy from them.

There are live chickens squawking and running everywhere. Jen wants to pet them but says "that's how I get sick."

We go to 'our vegetable guy.' When he sees us he jumps up from his chair and shakes our hands, saying 'why so long since away?' He entertains us with the EXACT SAME story every weekend in Arabic and English that we still don't understand (something about Canada and Alaska), and we buy our vegetables. Today I paid about the equivalent of a dollar for my peppers, carrots, limes, and cucumbers.

He gives us a gift of a bright green pepper. Every week.

We return to the fly-covered fruit stands and pay another 2 dollars for kilos of bananas, oranges and strawberries.

We each buy a rotisserie Chicken that we can eat off all week. These are sold in an outdoor 'shop' underneath an overpass that is never without hundreds of honking, loud cars and trucks. We assume that the previously mentioned 'cute' chickens all end up at this shop.


And this is all completely normal.

How did you acquire your fresh produce this week???