Egypt....at last!

This is the street that I live on.


This is another view of my street.



This is the view from the living room and my bedroom; it is the ex-olive orchard turned sand pit behind my apartment building.



This is my bedroom.


This is the dining room in my apartment.


This is the living room.

After over 30 hours of traveling and all the joys that come with it....1 missed flight, 3 connecting flights...a never-ending sea of strange faces, bitter coffee and aching feet, splashes of water to the face to keep alert, semi-entertaining airplane companions, surprisingly good airline food, (Lufthansa, I love you!), sleeping pills that failed to work, (despite being taken with wine), complete delirium from approximately 4 hours of sleep in 3 days... I finally arrived in Cairo. Egypt... the place I have wanted to see for as long as I can remember!

It was about 7:30 at night when my plane landed in Cairo, so there were no glimpses to been seen of my new home from the windows of the plane. Because I was seated directly behind the first class passengers, I was one of the first people to disembark. The people at the school I am working for told me before I arrived what to do and how to proceed through immigration after I got off the plane, which made things much easier for me than for the swarms of confused foreigners who stood beside me. Many people were in a state of complete bewilderment as to what to do upon their arrival.

Immediately after leaving the plane I headed to the Bank of Alexandria, one of the many banks lining the walls of the airport, to purchase a tourist/entry visa for $15. The visa is actually a sticker they put in your passport which allows you to enter the country, provided you can pass through immigration without any problems. Since I will be working in Egypt for the year, the immigration people were notified of my arrival beforehand, and they only had to check in their computers to see that I had a work visa through the school that was also in progress.

I was lucky enough to get toward the front of the line for immigration, because 4 other planes had landed at the same time that mine had, and the line behind me seemed to trail on indefinitely. When it was my turn to talk to an immigration officer, I simply handed him my passport, he checked to see that I had an entry visa sticker inside, and asked me, "Sarah?" "Aiwa," (yes), I responded. "What are you doing in Egypt?" he asked with a smile. "Ana mudaresa ingleezie," (I'm an English teacher), I replied. Thanks to Tariq, my much adored Arabic tutor, I was able to learn quite a few phrases to get me by before I left the States. "Mashi," (o.k.), he answered, "ahlan wa sahlan" (welcome). I thanked him and made my way to the baggage claim area.

As soon as I stepped up to the luggage belt, I saw my first bag going by and grabbed it. Two minutes later, I had my second. Yes! No lost luggage! I had everything I needed and things were going so smoothly that I couldn't believe it.

At that point, bags in tow, I made my way out of the airport to the transportation area where someone from the school was going to be meeting me. A guard strapped with guns asked for my passport, I showed it to him, and he asked me what I had in my bags. "Just clothes and shoes," I told him. He looked at me incredibly and said "ALL that, just clothes?" "I'm a woman," I replied, "and I'm going to be here a whole year." To which he laughed and said, "mashi, go ahead." I looked to my right and noticed other people nearby who weren't as fortunate as I was. They were having their bags ripped apart and inspected by other gaurds who weren't as friendly as mine was.

As soon as I stepped outside of the airport, I was overwhelmed by the hundreds of people standing there waiting to greet their friends and loved ones getting off of the planes. Several men held signs with names of people they were supposed to pick up or companies written on them, and I scanned them all for the one that would say Sakkara Language School. It wasn't there. I walked back and forth in front of the throngs of people 3 times and still didn't see it. They weren't there to meet me.

Since I missed my first flight and had been delayed in Chicago for 6 hours, I arrived in Cairo 7 hours later than the school had anticipated. However, I had emailed the director of the school with my new flight information, and I had assumed that someone would have gotten the message that I was going to be arriving on a different flight. I didn't know what I was going to do at that point, because my cell phone obviously didn't work in Egypt, and although I had the number for the school's director, I didn't see any payphones around and I really had no way of calling him.

I saw a duty free shop to my right, and decided to head in that direction to get away from the masses and try to figure things out. As I was heading there, struggling to push my luggage cart with ridiculously heavy bags aboard, several men came running to my "rescue." "Miss, miss, you need taxi?" "You need help?" One man actually commandeered my luggage cart from me, started talking rapidly in Arabic to another man, and then walked away with my things. I understood the word taxi from his conversation and said forcefully but politely, "la, LA!" (no, No!) "LA taxi!," (NO taxi!) and took my cart back from him.

I made my way back towards the duty free shop and was approached by yet another man. He introduced himself and asked if I wanted to use his cell phone. Thank God for the kidness of strangers! I thanked him, got out the number for the director of the school, and called it. Fortunately, someone answered after the first ring. "Dr. Nagwa Beshir?" I asked. "Yes, who's this?" a man answered. "Sarah," I replied, I'm one of the new teachers for your school. Someone was supposed to pick me up, and no one is here." I tried to keep the annoyance I was feeling from reaching my voice. "No problem," he told me. "You see the duty free shop?" "Yes." "Good, go stand there and someone will be there in 2 minutes."

After arriving in Egypt, a person has 48 hours from the time they purchase their tourist visa to buy things from the duty free shop. Since alcohol is ridiculously expensive in Egypt because most people are Muslim and don't drink, I was advised by the people at the school where I'm teaching to stock up when I arrived because the duty free shops are much cheaper than anywhere else in the area. I asked one of the guards standing outside of the duty free shop if it was ok if I left my luggage cart outside, (I didn't want to risk knocking anything over trying to move a huge cart around inside the store), and he said I could, so I headed in and started looking around.

The first thing I wanted to get was cigarettes. (Not for me, mom---really, for my smoking friends back home). I had promised several people Egyptian cigarettes upon my return. I saw a carton of Cleopatra smokes, and knew I had found my brand. I flipped it over to look at the price...$4.00. Four dollars for a fricking carton of cigarettes! I grabbed a few and made my way to the booze. You are only allowed to purchase up to 3 bottles of liquor, so I had to get everything that I would need until January, which would be then next time I would be traveling from the airport and would get a chance to buy it again. I got a couple of bottles and made my way to the cashier.

There were 3 men standing around the cash register and as I gave them my purchases and they rang me up, they asked me what my name was. I told them it was Sarah and all three of them told me "Ohhh, Sarah, my daughter is named Sarah." (side note: I have heard that many, many times since then. Sarah is apparently one of the most common female names here). They asked me where I was from and I answered and made small talk with them. I looked up and saw two Egyptian males and one middle-aged, foreign, (aka white and obviously from somewhere else), woman watching me from outside the store. The woman then spoke up and asked, "Are you Sarah?" "Yes," I answered. "Hi, I'm Bonnie from the school!" she announced.

She introduced the men who were beside her, Mohamed, one of the supervisors for the teachers at the school, and Ahmed, the school's van driver. They asked me about my flight and then Bonnie quickly took over the conversation and started explaining the other teachers to me. There were two girls who had arrived so far besides me, a girl named Joelle from Pittsburgh and a girl named Mhairi, (pronounced Varie---it's an ancient Gaelic name), from Scotland who were living together in an apartment on the same street where I would be living. My roommate was going to be a girl who was arriving the next day. Bonnie didn't know where she was from, but she did know her name was Katie.

She continued to talk excitedly beside me, sometimes interrupting herself to ask Mohamed, "Where is Ahmed? Where's the van? What's taking so long?" I would soon learn that Bonnie, although a sweet, endearing, and very helpful and interesting woman, is often sidetracked by her own conversations and therefore repeats herself unnecessarily. I tried to listen to her, but found myself distracted by the scenes around me. I watched the people leaving the airport being herded into various taxis and buses, listened to their foreign tongues, and tried to imagine what my life here was going to be like. How long would it take me to understand what they were saying? I had never lived someplace where I didn't know how to speak the language. This would be very different than my time in Spain.

Because it was so dark, I couldn't see much of the landscape around me except for a few palm trees and a seemingly endless sea of sand and roads surrounding us. The air was warm, but not uncomfortable, thanks to a wonderful little breeze. I closed my eyes and breathed in this new place. The pyramids were just 15 minutes or so away from me. I couldn't believe I was actually here.

"Sarah?!" " Ahmed's finally here with the van!" Bonnie exclaimed, interrupting my thoughts. Ahmed got out, grabbed my luggage, and placed it in the van. Bonnie and I climbed in the back, and Mohamed took the passenger seat. He had been talking on his cell phone incessantly since meeting me.

Bonnie kept talking about the school and the other teachers who were coming in later that week, explaining to me that she was the Kindergarten director but also the person responsible for meeting all of the teachers and getting them settled into their apartments. She then switched the subject to her own travels and explained that she was married to an Egyptian man and although she had lived in France, New Zealand, Germany, England, and various other places, Egypt was the place she had lived in for the longest period of time.

After about 10 or 15 minutes, we arrived in Maadi, which is the southern portion of Cairo and where I would be living. Ahmed navigated the van through the streets with reckless abandon, honking his horn every 2 or 3 seconds and weaving in and out of traffic with skills that would make a Nascar driver envious. Other cars came barreling straight towards us and just when it seemed they were about to hit us,they would swerve out of the way. This is standard driving procedure in Cairo. No turn signals are used, just horns. The sound of honking of horns is a constant here, and drivers do pretty much whatever they want, even driving the wrong direction on one way streets if it gets them where they're going any faster. It's utter chaos, and leaves most foreigners gripping their seats in fear. I kind of like it. No driving rules is my kind of driving rules!

The van stopped on a street lined with various little shops and fruit stands, and Ahmed jumped out once again. Bonnie explained that this was the street I would be living on and then went into a detailed description about the various fruits that are available in Egypt and which ones are currently in season. Ahmed was inside one of the little shops buying me a few things that I would need right away for the apartment.

After he returned, he unloaded my bags and we all headed up to my apartment, which was just a few doors down. When we arrived at the building, Bonnie introduced me to my bowab, or doorman. Bowabs are a fundamental part of modern Egyptian society; their job is to look after the buildings and make sure no one unwanted enters. They also serve as general delivery men; it is standard for people to shout down the stairwells, "Ya, belwab, mya!" (Hey, doorman, I need water!), or whatever it is that they need, and the doorman goes to a store nearby and fetches it for them. They also take out the garbage, (you leave the little bags outside of your apartment door and they pick them up), clean your rugs for you, or do pretty much anything else you want them to do.

If the bowab is helping you out with extra things such as this, it is standard to tip them 1 or 2 pounds, (which is the equivalent of 50 cents or so). The job of a bowab, however, is seen as one of the lowest jobs you can have in Egypt. Bowabs live with their wives and children all together in one tiny room immediately inside the entrance to the buildings. They are extremely poor and, in general, disrespected by society, (side note: it really bothers me the way bowabs are treated and it's one of the things I'm having the hardest time with here).

After I met the doorman, Bonnie, Ahmed, and I, (Mohamed had since taken off to return home to his wife and son), headed up the stairs to my apartment. I had no idea what to expect of the apartment, and was pleasantly surprised when I saw the inside. There was a large living and dining room area off from the kitchen, a decent bathroom, and two large bedrooms. Since I had arrived before my roommate, I got my pick of the rooms, and chose the one with a large window (for lots of sunshine!) which overlooked a field of sand which was, at one time, an olive orchard. Bonnie explained there was once an underground prison nearby, and the prisoners took care of the olive orchard during the day. However, after the prison closed, there was nobody to look after the orchard, so all of the trees shriveled up and died. Now all that remains is a sand pit that is home to a few packs of street dogs.

Bonnie asked if I was tired or if I wanted to go out and have coffee and meet the other two girls who had already arrived. Although I was physically tired, my mind was wide awake and I was eager to meet my fellow coworkers, so I changed my clothes quickly and made the short walk down the street with Bonnie to where Mhairi and Joelle lived.

Egypt....at last...part 2

This is hawawshy, the first meal I had in Egypt. Mmmmm....


From left to right: Mhairi, me, and Joelle. These are the first girls that I met here.


When Bonnie and I arrived at the other girls' apartment, I was impressed once again by the housing the school was providing us with. Their apartment had a smaller living room than mine, but it had a beautiful kitchen area with large marble countertops and big, spacious cupboards.

Mhairi and Joelle greeted me with big smiles, and I knew immediately I was going to like them. Joelle is from Pittsburg and has a very sweet, pleasant personality. She looks a lot like Kate Hudson, (the actress in How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days---Goldie Hawn's daughter), and has the cutest little laugh. Joelle joined the Peace Corps immediately after finishing college, and she has spent the past two years working in a very small village in Burkina Fassu, in West Africa. She has shared some amazing stories with me about her life there; living in a small hut with no water or electricity, biking 10 miles to and from the nearest store for supplies, and just differences in general about culture and the way of life living in a village where 90% of the people have never had any type of a formal education.

Mhairi is, so far, my favorite girl here, and is the most like me in her ways of thinking and her personality. She is from Scotland, but spent the past year teaching English in Turkey. She has the most adorable Scottish brogue accent, and she also has a slight lisp, which makes her even more fun to listen to. These are some of my favorite things that she has said so far...

Asked by Katie, (my American roommate).."Mhairi, do you call French fries fries or chips?" Mhairi's reply: "I was living with American roommates for the past year now, so I call chips fries and I also say pants for trousers; even though I'm well aware that pants are knickers." I say, "I thought knickers meant underwear." "They are," she says. "Well, what are bloomers then?" I ask. "For fucks sake Sarah, bloomers go down to yer knees, and nobody wears bloomers anymore, what do ya think, we're livin' in a Charles Dickens novel here?"

The other day I was talking to Mhiari about the students that I was teaching in the ghettos of Chicago and how poor most of them are, which led to a discussion of the American and Scottish welfare systems. The Scots have a system very similar to ours, where people can have multiple children and stay on welfare for years, living completely free off of the government, getting their housing paid for, food stamps, etc.

What I found the most amusing about this is she explained to me that the people who are on welfare in Scotland are called Neds or Chevs, and they usually wear track suits, love to wear fake bling, (super large necklaces and earrings made with fake gold and diamonds), live in government housing with at least 6 or 7 children, and name their children very unusual things like Channel (pronounced Chanel, as in Chanel No. 5 perfume, but they just don't know how to spell it so it looks like channel...as in t.v. channel), Tamia and Lakesha. What? In Scotland? I find this very funny. These are totally American, Jerry Springer-ish kind of names. Most girls in Scotland are named old Scottish, Gaelic names such as Agnes.

Mhairi went on to tell me that, as is common in many big cities where girls are poor and uneducated, many of the Chevs get pregnant as young teens. But, in Scotland, the girls are usually sent away while they're pregnant, and then they come back to school afterwards. When the other kids ask the teachers where they've been, the teachers make something up, but Mhairi says they all know very well the girls have been "up the duff" (knocked up).

Another favorite Mhairi-ism of mine is the following: we will be out walking, on the way to get a coffee or down the street to one of the stores to set supplies and she will say "Ugh! It's so frickin' hot here, I can't stand it! It's like Africa or something." To which one of us always replies..."Mhairi, we ARE in Africa!" She also has a habit of saying "Are you from Syria??" whenever someone says or does something that she thinks is stupid. It is her way of saying "Are you frickin' serious?" She says "Are you from Syria?" SO often than the rest of us have all started saying it now too.

I digress, back to my first night meeting these girls. We all walked to a place called Scores a few blocks away to have coffee and get something to eat. I was happy that Turkish coffee was on the menu, it's my absolute favorite, but I was disappointed to see mostly Western food listed on the men. I LOVE middle-eastern food, and was hoping to have some falafel or hummus and pita bread. Bonnie explained, (as I had already learned from the research I had done before coming to Egypt), that there are many foreigners living in Maadi, my neighborhood, so many of the restaraunts serve food that caters to them.

There was something called hawashy on the menu, which is a type of hamburger mixed with Egyptian spices and served between a common bread here, so since it seemed to be the most common Egyptian dish they had, I ordered it...and it was excellent!

The girls and I talked about things and got to know each other a little, but our conversation eventually began to taper off. Joelle had been in Egypt about 4 days and was the first teacher here, so Bonnie had been showing her around and she knew where a few things were in our neighborhood. But, Mhairi had arrived the day before and was still a bit out of sorts, and I was completely jet-lagged at that point; all I really wanted to do was sleep, so we left the restaurant after about an hour an headed home.

Bonnie said goodbye to us and took a cab home, and the girls and I walked back to our street. Once inside my apartment, I turned on the a.c., (it was literally a hundred degrees inside there...thank goodness we have air conditioning), and got ready for bed.

I found that my "bedding" consisted of one sheet that covered the mattress, two sofa pillows without pillowcases (and mysterious stains on them...hence, I wasn't about to use them), one thick, scratchy red blanket, and 1 king-sized pillow with pillow case. I tossed the sofa pillows and red blanket under the bed, and decided to lie upon the sheet that was already on the bed and just use a sweater to cover up with if I got cold, which I doubted that I would. I could have checked the other bedroom for more sheets, but I was so tired at that point, I couldn't move.

I collapsed into bed and was asleep almost instantly. This, for anyone who knows me, is extremely rare. I have "restless mind syndrome," a term I've made up for myself; I can't shut my thoughts off at night and my mind usually races with ideas and reflections from the day. On top of that, I'm a very light sleeper who wakes up to any little sound. Thankfully, the air conditioner sounded like a diesel truck, and was drowning out any other noises going on in the building, and I sank into the deepest sleep I've had in years.

The saga begins

Katie, my roommate.


I do! One of our many lovely apartment decorations...


and another


This is our 1950's t.v. set. I can't complain though, because we also have a satellite dish and we get a lot of channels, both in English and in Arabic.

I awoke to the most intense sunlight I have ever experienced pouring through the window onto my bed, making the temperature of the room over 90 degrees, despite the fact that the diesel truck air conditioner was still running on high. I checked the watch Bonnie had given me to use the night before, (my cell phone was dead, and that was my only source of time---I don't wear watches and the battery powered alarm clock I had packed was still buried somewhere in my unpacked suitcases), and I was absolutely shocked to see that it was 2:30 in the afternoon. I had slept almost 14 hours without waking up; I haven't slept that long since my teenage years!

I checked my appearance in the mirror and put on some appropriate clothes before leaving my bedroom because Bonnie had told me that my roommate would be arriving around 1:30 that afternoon, and I didn't know if she was in the apartment already or not.

I checked her bedroom and the living room, but didn't see anyone. I wondered if she had already come and gone, or if her plane had been delayed. The first thing I did after that was set out to make some coffee. I scrummaged through the cupboards for something to boil water in, (we have no microwave and the water is undrinkable in Egypt), and found one pot and one crusty looking frying pan.

Thankfully Ahmed had bought me some dish soap along with some coffee, water, sugar, jam and bread the night before, so I thoroughly scrubbed the pot and started boiling water for coffee. While the water was boiling, I took a shower, (once again I was pleasantly surprised; there was hot water and excellent water pressure!), and I felt much better after I was finished. However, despite my 14 hours of sleep the night before, I had huge bags under my eyes and still felt like I was in lala land. Ah, the joys of jet lag.

I sipped my coffee and walked around the apartment looking at the odd array of decorations. A wooden fish proclaiming "I love Egypt!" hung from one of the cupboard doors of the kitchen, an African doll statue stood atop the dining room table next to a large glass vase covered in peacocks, and an unusual mix of pictures hung from the wall. There were ocean landscape prints beside Victorian portraits and what appeared to be a large piece of Christmas wrapping paper that was hung up as a decoration on the dining room wall.

As I looked around, I thought about all of the people who had lived in this apartment before me. I truly believe that people leave a little piece of themselves behind in a house or an apartment they have lived in. I think a bit of their energy remains and is absorbed by the house, and I also think that this energy is palpable, that you can actually feel it sometimes. Does this make sense to you? If you don't know what I mean, or if you think I'm plain crazy, oh well. We all have different thoughts and beliefs; this is what makes the world so interesting.

I digress once again, but this is my writing style my friends. Those of you who read my travel entries while I was in Spain are probably used to it by now. For those of you who are newbies, you'll adjust. (hehe)

Anyway, after I had looked around the apartment and gotten used to my new surroundings, I decided to unpack and get my bedroom squared away. I opened up the suitcases and just started making piles for things...long sleeved clothes, (it gets cold here at night in the winter I've been told), short-sleeved clothes, electronics, etc. Believe me, when you have to plan out EVERYTHING you're going to need for an entire year in a foreign country, it takes a lot of forsight, and I had crammed a LOT of stuff into those 2 suitcases, (despite the fact that I had told the gaurd at the airport it was only clothes and shoes).

When I went to hang up my clothes in the bedroom armoir, I realized that there were only 2 hangers. 2! So, I decided to venture out and check out some of the little shops on my street. I had remembered from the night before that there were a couple of little mini-markets, a fruit stand, a RadioShack, (RadioShacks are everywhere here--so is KFC, it's a bit disturbing how many KFCs there are), and a few other shops that sold clothes and shoes.

I deciced to go to the fruit stand first because they had 3 types of mangos, (I LOVE mangos!), and although I wasn't hungry, I figured it would be a good snack for later. I put on a long skirt, (down to my ankles), and a long-sleeved shirt and headed out the door. It was about 110 degrees that day, and I really wanted just to leave in my shorts and a tank top, but when in Egypt, you do as the Egyptians do. When I am living in a foreign country, I think it is extremely important to respect and try to adapt to the local culture, and most of the Egyptian women are Muslim, which means they keep their arms and legs fully covered, and their heads are covered as well, (in veils wrapped over their hair, but with their faces showing). But....more on the Egyptian culture in a separate entry...

After getting some fruit, I set out to find somewhere I could buy some clothes hangers, which turned out to be another little store about 5 doors down. The stores here are quite similar to the ones that line the sidewalks of Spain. Each little store has one specialty...there is the stationary shop, the shoe and handbag shop, the electronics shop, the fruit shop, etc., no super Wal-Marts or places where you can buy everything at once. (As much as I dislike Wal-Mart, I always miss it when it's gone. You don't realize how convenient it really is). But, there are the occasional "junk stores," (as my friends and I call them), in Egypt that have a hodge-podge of wares for sale. However, the items are often very cheaply made and extremely overpriced.

I found a junk store and decided that besides hangers, I would get whatever else appeared to be lacking from the apartment, so I also bought some cleaning supplies, bowls and plates, sponges for the kitchen, Tupperware, a new frying pan that wasn't crusted, etc. There was an older man who appeared to be running the store, and an adolescent boy who was taking everything I was interested in and setting it on the counter so I wouldn't have to carry it around with me.

I hadn't been calculating the cost of the things I was picking out as I shopped because the numbers were written in Arabic and although I recognized the number 1 here or a 5 there, I didn't know all of the numbers yet or understand what the difference was between a comma and a period, or what order I was supposed to be reading the numbers in...right to left like the Arabic letters, or left to right? I wasn't sure.

The owner of the store totaled up the items on his calculator and then wrote out a receipt for me by hand. As he did so, he asked me where I was from and what my name was. When I told him Sarah, he told me his daughter was also named Sarah. Of course. He was very sweet and friendly. He told me the total in Egyptian pounds, and when I went to pay him, I realized only had 20 pounds inside my wallet, (the equivalent of about $4.00). I was very embarrassed and explained to him that I needed to go back to my apartment and get more money.

The person who helped me prepare for Egypt before I left was a guy named Haytham, who is the son of the school's director. Haytham had told me not to exchange any money at the airport because they don't give you the best rate, and that the school would exchange money for me when I arrived. However, because I hadn't exchanged any money yet, I couldn't really buy anything during my first 2 days because the stores don't take American money. But, thankfully the night before Bonnie had given me 100 Egyptian pounds, (about 20 dollars), to get through the first couple of days until I was able to go to the school and exchange my money....which may not sound like much, but in Egypt 20 dollars is plenty to get by on for 2 days.

Anyway, although I had the hundred pounds from Bonnie, in the state of haziness I had been in all day, I had only put 20 pounds in my wallet when I left the apartment. The man who owned the store found it very amusing that I was so embarrassed about not having enough money with to pay him. He smiled and shook his head and said, "Sarah, don't worry. You in Egypt now. You are a friend. You come back and pay me when you can. I know who you are." I was so touched by his kindness and I absolutely fell in love with Egypt at that moment. How wonderful to be living in a culture where people trust each other and actually help one other out. I felt for a moment as if I had been transported back in time to Mayberry, or to some distant fairy-tale place where people truly cared about their fellow man.

When I got back to the apartment, I put my purchases away and got back to unpacking my suitcases. I was almost finished when someone rang the doorbell. I looked at Bonnie's watch again and saw that it was already 5:30. I glanced out the peep hole and saw Bonnie and Mohamed standing there as I heard Bonnie saying to someone "I'm not sure if she's even here."
I opened the door, and there was Katie, my new roommate. She looked extremely tired and frazzled so I introduced myself and gave her a big hug. "Travel problems?" I asked her. "You have NO idea," she answered. "They lost one of my bags and I have been at the airport for the past 5 hours trying to get it sorted out!"

Mohamed left as soon as Katie entered the apartment and Bonnie stayed for a few minutes to chat and see how my second day was going and to talk to Katie and I about the school. She wanted me to go in the next day and officially start working, (since I'd been given a day to rest and recuperate), and told me that a bus from the school would be picking up Mhairi, Joelle and I around 8:00 the next morning. She wrote down the phone number to Mhairi and Joelle's apartment for us, and also wrote down her number in case we needed anything, and then took off. She had been so busy picking up teachers from the airport and getting them settled in that she had barely seen her husband all week.

I gave Katie a quick tour of the apartment and showed her where things were, and then asked her if she was hungry or wanted to lie down for a bit and rest. She said she felt ok, and actually just wanted to get settled in and unpack, so we both went to our bedrooms and started putting things away. As we unpacked, we talked back and forth across the hallway and got to know each other.

Katie is from North Carolina, but she went to the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee. I was surprised that despite being raised in the south, she doesn't have a trace of a southern accent. When I commented on this, she laughed and told me she was actually grew up an army brat, so she has lived all over the U.S. Her parents have lived in North Carolina for the past several years, so when asked, she tells people that is where she is from because it is easier.

Katie looks incredibly like Christina Ricci. She has the same large eyes that shock you from a distance with their dominance to the face, but when you look at her closer up, you see that her features are actually very soft, delicate, and quite doll-like. I didn't tell her that I thought she looked like the actress, because I didn't want to offend her or make her upset if she didn't think it was a compliment. People seem to either think Christina Ricci is either really ugly or really beautiful. There doesn't seem to be an in between. However, as soon as Mhairi and Joelle met Katie the next day they immediately told her "My God, you look just like Christina Ricci!" To which Katie unenthusiastically replied "I know! Everyone says that! And I can't STAND her; I think she's SO fricking ugly!"

Katie just graduated from college this past spring, so while we were talking and getting to know each other, I was a bit concerned at first that she would be a typical twenty-something fresh out of schoo,l (read: annoying and naïve) ,and that our age difference might make our interests and views on things completely different from each other. But, Katie has spent time abroad before; she studied a month in Prague and also spent time as a Au Pair in France for a summer, so these experiences combined with the fact that she is quite mature and level headed for her age, make her an atypical American twenty-something.

It also worried me a bit while we were talking that Katie told me that she has never had a roommate before, but I will tell you that she is probably the best roommate I've ever had, and I absolutely adore her. We have already become as close as sisters this past week, spending practically every waking moment together, and I know she will be a friend I will never forget. Leaving your home, your country, and everything that is familiar and comforting in your life behind creates situations in which people form bonds much faster than in normal, every day situations.

By the time Katie and I had finished unpacking, it was almost 8:00 in the evening, and we were both really hungry. We decided to go to a place called the Green Mill that is pretty close to our apartment. I had only been here for 1 day, and I wasn't familiar enough with our neighborhood or the taxis to risk venturing off anywhere too far from home that night. I had landmarked the Green Mill when I had been walking back from Scores with Mhairi and Joelle the night before, so I was confident I would be able to find it and get us back home when we were finished. The street signs here are tiny blue rectangles attached to whichever wall happens to be at the corner of an intersection, (well, most intersections anyway, sometimes you can walk indefinitely without seeing a sign), and most of them are written in Arabic so I can't understand what they say anyway. I called Mhairi and Joelle at their apartment to see if they wanted to join us, but they were out, so Katie and I went alone.

The Green Mill is another place geared towards the foreign residents of Maadi, so I was disappointed once again that I would be eating Western food. Katie and I ended up having a pasta dish, and sat and talked for hours about our lives and experiences. Around 1 in the morning, we decided to head back to the apartment and try to get some sleep. We each went to our rooms, but neither of us actually fell asleep until much later.

This has become routine for me since then. I don't know if my body is rebelling against the time change or what the reasoning is, but I have developed a form of insomnia where I fall to sleep around 3:00 in the morning, and then I am only able to sleep 2 or 3 hours per night. Surprisingly though, I don't feel exhausted when I wake up and have been going all day without napping or resting. I'm sure this lack of sleep will catch up with me eventually. It's just a matter of time.

Sakkara International School

Koshari, a traditional Egyptian dish


Mohamed, visibly stressed from having to "supervise" 10 foreign teachers


The school playground





One of the school buses in the courtyard after a fresh cleaning


The front entrance of the school



This is a view of the playground from the third floor, where I teach


This is another view from the 3rd floor of the school



Me and some of the other English teachers preparing our lessons before the fall school semester began. You will know their names and faces soon enough.




My fellow English teachers on the bus, waiting to be taken to school to begin work for the day


Despite the fact that she had only arrived the day before, Katie decided that she wanted to accompany Mhairi, Joelle, and I to school the first morning we were scheduled to work. Although we didn't actually start teaching the students until two weeks later, our contracts officially started September 2nd, so we were required to go in that day and get familiar with things at the school. Before coming to Egypt, I did a lot of research and spent time emailing and talking to different teachers who had previously worked at the school. Therefore, I felt that I had a general idea of what to expect upon arrival. (I have since learned that no matter how much research you do, you never really know what a place or a country is going to be like until you get there).

There was supposed to be a curriculum set by the school for us to follow, a teacher's lounge for us to take breaks and to work in, two computers for us to use, and school supplies provided for us. We wouldn't know what grade we would be teaching until we arrived, but once this was decided upon by the school Directors, we would teach 3 sections per day of whichever grade we were assigned, (which equaled about 4 hours of actual instruction per day). Although there was a set school curriculum for us to follow, we were given flexibility and creative reign over our lessons, which is one of the main reasons I chose to teach at Sakkara School.

There are many international language schools in Egypt and while researching them, I found that many of them were very rigid with how they expected their teachers to present lessons, basically outlining for them day by day, hour by hour what they had to do....Day 1 read Chapters 1 & 2 and do worksheets or review sheets on pages 9 & 10 of the workbook. That is definately not my teaching style! Some people, (read: lazy, unimaginative people who should NOT be teaching), like this kind of environment, but I believe in personalizing lesson plans and making learning fun and interesting for students.



The first day we went to the school to begin prepping, a bus from Sakkara came and picked us up in front of our apartments at 8:00 in the morning. A short, 10 minutes later, we were there. Sakkara, by the way, is a made up English word for Sahara, as in the desert. In Egypt, they don't always pronounce the 'k' sound, so when the Egyptians say Sakkara they pronounce it 'Sa-aara.' The school, like most buildings in Cairo, is simple and unimpressive from the outside, but much nicer on the inside. It is 4 stories tall, and consists of 3 separate buildings connected by open-air walkways and hallways, (which is very nice for fresh air and constant sunshine). The ground floor holds the school reception area, the two school Directors' offices, and the Kindergarten rooms. The Directors of the school are both women, Dr. Nagwa being the main Director, or Superintendent, and Mrs. Hegazy being the second Director, or Principal. Behind the reception area is a doorway which leads into a courtyard where there is a playground and a cantina. There is no lunchroom for the students, there is only a cantina which is a little hut where 2 women sell sandwiches, pop, chips, candy bars, etc.


The first floor of the school contains the classrooms for Primary 1, 2, 3, & 4, (basically 1st-4th grades). The second floor has the Primary 5 & 6 classrooms, (5th & 6th grades) and also the Prep 1 & 2 classrooms, (7th & 8th grades). On the third and final floor of the school are the classrooms for Prep 3, (9th grade, the grade that I teach), and for the Secondary students, (the students aged 16 & up who haven't gone to a separate school for their secondary education; there are only about 10 Secondary students in the school).


While I was still in the United States, the person I was corresponding with from the school was a man named Haytham, who is Dr. Nagwa's son. So I assumed, upon arriving at the school, that he was going to be one of our supervisors, and would probably be the person who would be getting us settled into the school. I found out several days later that Haytham is actually in New Zealand working for the family's oil rig, and that the person who was going to be our supervisor was actually Mohamed, one of the guys who had been with Bonnie at the airport the night I had arrived. And, as I was also about to find out, poor Mohamed really didn't know too much of anything about curriculums, or teacher expectations, or school calendars, or any of the things I would ask him over the course of the next few days. My patience was definitely about to be tried.


Bonnie met us in the reception area that day, talked to us a bit about how we were getting settled in, and then explained to us that Mohamed wasn't there yet, so we really couldn't get started on anything until he arrived. She took us up to the top floor, where the English teachers' lounge was, and told us to wait there until he arrived. The "lounge" was a room that held nothing but one large table with some chairs around it, and 5 or 6 empty bookcases. The bookcases held nothing but some terribly dusty binders, and piles of worksheets and composition books left behind by the previous teachers. No microwave, no fridge, no pens, pencils, or supplies. Nothing but a table and some empty bookcases.


Joelle, Mhairi, Katie and I sat there for almost three hours before Mohamed arrived. I didn't really mind, because we were talking and having fun getting to know each other while we waited, and we were technically getting paid to sit there and talk since our contract had started that day. But, even though I was enjoying my time with the girls, my annoyance was starting to grow. I felt like we were in seclusion, with no one coming to check on us or say anything to us...I mean, come on! Three hours? Why did they have the bus pick us up at 8:00 in the morning if we were going to sit there for 3 hours and do nothing? I would soon learn that this is usually the way things are in Egypt. Their sense of time and timing is nothing at all like it is in the American culture where people are expected to be punctual, and ready to go at a specific hour. Everything runs at its own, sometimes agonizingly slow pace here, and that's just the way it is.

I was tired of sitting at the table doing nothing, so about 20 minutes before Mohamed finally arrived, I decided to check out the bookshelves and see if they contained anything of interest. I thumbed through the stacks of worksheets the previous teachers had left behind and wondered if this was how most of them taught...through worksheets. If so, how boring and unimaginative. Then I started to look through the composition books they had left behind, and found out they were actually records of the teachers' lesson plans and their notes concerning how each day had progressed. I began reading things such as "Yellow class were angels today, but blue was terrible again. Had to take away library again." And, "Discipline problems again in green. 3 detentions given."

I looked through five different notebooks, and saw that every teacher seemed to be struggling with discipline and classroom management problems. Were they simply incompetent, I wondered, or were these kids really going to be that hard to handle? I was in a foreign country where I knew nothing about the culture or the school system and what was appropriate or inappropriate in terms of classroom management procedures. What was the norm here? Was education something valued, something the students would actually care about? Would they respect us and work hard, or we going to be glorified babysitters, dealing with spoiled brats who could care less if they learned English or not?

We were teaching at a private school, and I did know that most of the children came from wealthier families, so I had no idea what kind of attitudes they would have towards us. It doesn't matter, I told myself. No matter what they're like, this school can't possibly be as bad as the one I taught at in Chicago. After teaching there, I knew I could handle anything. It couldn't possibly be that bad.

After Mohamed finally showed up that day, he came up to the English staff room to get us, and brought us down to Mrs. Hegazy's air conditioned office on the ground floor, (the average temperature that week was 105 degrees and only the Directors' offices have air conditioning). He felt guilty about making us wait and ordered us some lunch. There is a place close to the school that makes koshari, a traditional Egyptian dish that is basically a hodge podge of different types of noodles and lentils mixed together and covered in a mysterious red sauce. Koshari is very cheap, (it costs about 3 pounds for a dish of it, which is about 75 cents), and it is quite tasty and filling. So, Mohamed ordered some for us that day and had it delivered.


As we ate, Mohamed smoked ciagarettes and asked us if we had any questions. We certainly did. "When are we finding out what grade we're teaching?" "When are we going to get textbooks?" "When are we going to see the school's curriculum so we can start planning lessons?" "When are we going to be given a map of the city...we don't know where anything is!" It was mostly Mhairi and I who asked the questions while Katie and Joelle sat there silently, but Mohamed's response to every question we asked was always "bokra, bokra." (tomorrow, tomorrow).

We had two weeks to get everything ready before the students started school for the fall semester, and those two weeks were not easy. This is a brief synopsis of how those days passed by for us: we got picked up by the bus at 8:00 in the morning each day, waited at the school for 2 or 3 hours doing nothing until Mohamed got there, (because for some reason our day couldn't begin until he arrived), and then we would eat something and sit around for another 3 or 4 hours in Mrs. Hegazy's office while Mohamed smoked cigarettes and dodged all attempts to answer our questions or to help us prepare in any way. I don't think he did so intentionally, I just honestly think he had never supervised the foreign teachers before and really didn't know how to go about helping us.

Mohamed is Mrs. Hegazy's son, (Mrs. Hegazy is one of the school Directors), and his primary role at the school is that of a disciplinarian. There is no detention system at our school, and the two Directors don't normally deal with any of the school discipline, so this is all left to Mohamed. The students at the school are not punished for coming to school late, going to classes late, skipping classes, or not doing their homework. The only things they ever get into trouble for are fighting or coming to school dressed in something besides their school uniform. And getting in trouble basically means they are yelled at by Mohamed and made to stand out in the hallway for a while. So basically the school has no discipline system, which makes it very difficult to teach there at times. The kids know they can do whatever they want and get away with it. Since their parents are paying tuition for them to attend the school, I get the feeling that the Directors keep the waters calm and baby the students so that their parents don't get upset and withdraw them, (and their money), from the school.

Those first two weeks trying to prepare for classes to begin were among the most stressful of my life, and I could have gladly strangled Mohamed by the time school was about to begin. We soon found out that there really wasn't a school curriculum, (which meant that we each had to create one on our own), and this is very difficult and takes a LOT of time to do. Curriculums are normally set up by a committee of teachers and administrators working together and takes weeks and sometimes months to do. A curriculum basically outlines everything the students need to do for the entire school year: what they should be learning each week and each month, and also what specific grammar, literature, vocabulary, comprehension, and writing skills they are expected to develop.

Besides having to develop an English curriculum for the school in less than 10 days, I also didn't find out what grade I was teaching until 4 days before classes began. First Mohamed told me I was teaching 10 year olds and then a week later, (after I had started planning all of my lessons), he told me I was actually going to be teaching 14 & 15 year olds...which is a HUGE difference when you are a teacher and planning lessons. There is an enormous disparity between the capabilities of 10 year olds and 15 year olds! So, once I found out I was teaching 9th grade, I had to start all over again and replan all of my lessons.


In addition to those stresses, we also weren't given class lists or a school calendar, (both also very important for lesson planning), until after school started. The computers, printers, and internet rarely worked and when they did, there were 10 teachers fighting to use them. This made it nearly impossible to get things done. We also didn't get pens, pencils, folders, or any other supplies until after school had started. But, what doesn't kill you really does make you stronger. Us girls really came together to help each other out during those two weeks, and we became very close to each other as a result of the whole experience. Every day when we left the school, we headed out together somewhere to get lunch or some coffee, vented for a while about work, and then we went out and explored our new neighborhood.


Since I am the oldest of the girls, I have been adopted as the big sister, and I was the one who took over during those 2 weeks and made sure we got things accomplished. Every day I would make a list of things we needed to get done: find a grocery store, get cell phones, find the metro, find the library, etc. and the girls would gladly go along with it. I have been affectionately nicknamed "la jefa," (the boss) ever since then. Some of the girls are terribly indecisive, so I had no choice but to take control and git'er done.

Degla Babes Forever...Straight out of Syria...

I want to take a little time to introduce you to the girls in my life here. We all live together in Degla, (a neighborhood in Cairo), work together as English teachers, spend most our free time together, and we're all a little crazy in our own way. (I think you have to be a teeny bit crazy to give up everything comfortable in your life and move to a foreign country, but it's a good crazy--a brave crazy). These girls are an amazing and diverse group of women, and I love them all dearly. I couldn't imagine my life here without them. We have all become very good friends in the short time that we have been here, and they are very special and unique ladies. Without further ado, I present for you the Degla babes....

...my Katie

Katie is my roommate and, therefore, the person I spend the most time with. We have a great relationship and out of all of the girls, I know for certain that Katie and I will remain friends long after our adventures in Egypt are over. As roommates we get along great. We both like to have our personal ‘down time’ after work, we are both interested in language, (Katie has a degree in linguistics and speaks 4 different languages), and we also both like reading, travel, and music. She has a great sense of humor, and we spend a lot of time together in our apartment just hanging out and laughing hysterically over things.

Because she has never taught before, the first month here was pretty difficult for Katie. She had a tough time adjusting to the demands of teaching, (she is one of the Kindergarten teachers at our school), and she went through a bad case of culture shock too. There were several times that she was ready to pack up and leave, but I kept asking her to give it time because things always get better. It is really hard sometimes to live in a foreign country when everything that is familiar to you is gone. Katie has gone through some ups and downs, but has become a great teacher in the time that she has been here. She has a great bond with her students and they absolutely adore her.

Although she is in her early 20s, Katie seems to still be kind of dependent on her parents. She is very close to them and talks about how much she misses home constantly. The only thing that has stopped her from returning home so far is the fact that her parents paid for her plane ticket to come here and she doesn’t want to disappoint them. However, we have a 3 week semester break from the school in January, and Katie recently decided that she is going to go home over break and not return. She has already booked her flight, but now she is having second thoughts again and wants to stay. I hope she does, because I will really miss her if she goes.

P.S. Katie is the best female-Eminem rapper I have ever seen; she's amazing

...Mhairi & Hot Egyptian

Katie & I took this picture for Mhairi. Her favorite expression is "Are you from Syria?"


Mhairi & Mahmoud


As I said before, Mhairi is from Scotland, and she was one of the first girls I met when I arrived here. Mhairi is 24 going on 40. I say this because she has been through a lot in her life and has had to face some things that most girls her age haven’t had to deal with. Mhairi’s mom left them when she was young and to this day she has no idea where she is. Therefore, Mhairi was raised by her father, and she was really close to him while she was growing up.

Mhairi’s father remarried at one point, but then ended up divorcing his second wife. Mhairi has one full sister who is older; this sister lives in Scotland, is single, and doesn’t have any children. For many years she was not close at all to her older sister, but over the past 2 years, they have finally developed a relationship and now they talk regularly. Mhairi also has a half-sister who is younger than her. This sister is living in Spain, they have never gotten along, and they have no relationship what so ever.

Mhairi’s father died two years ago, which was extremely hard on her. She inherited some money from a factory he owned, so she left and has not been back to Scotland since. After she left Scotland, she worked as a teacher in England for a year. While she was living in England, she met an Egyptian guy who was there studying English. His name is Mahmoud, but Mhairi refers to him as “Hot Egyptian.” They started dating while they were both living there, but after his semester abroad was over, he returned to Egypt.

The next year Mhairi moved to Turkey and worked as an English teacher in Istanbul. Mahmoud and Mhairi continued their long-distance relationship, and he is the reason she decided to come to Egypt this year. Mahmoud is from a very wealthy family in Egypt. His father died when he was a teenager and since he is the older of two sons, he has been in charge of his family’s affairs for quite some time. His family owns a house in Cairo, and they own another extravagant house in Hurghada, which is a city on the Red Sea about 6 hours from Cairo. Like most wealthy Egyptians, Mahmoud attended college, (but just for fun and to meet people—when you’re rich and you know you have Daddy’s businesses providing money for you, you really don’t need to study to work towards a future or a career).

Mahmoud and Mhairi’s relationship seems to me and to all of the other girls to be very one-sided. Mhairi sits around by the phone waiting for him to call, talks about him constantly, and literally worships him, but he hardly gives her the time of day. They fight and argue constantly, and she is lucky if she sees him 2 or 3 times a month. Mahmoud is a really nice guy in the sense that he is a very generous person, and he looks after us girls and makes sure we are enjoying our time in Egypt. He is sort of like our personal, good-looking tour guide. However, I don’t like the way that he treats Mhairi sometimes, and their relationship has really been taking a toll on her lately.

Mhairi seems to be kind of an insecure and unhappy person inside. She has had a hard life, and I sometimes think she is to be putting all of her future hopes on Mahmoud’s shoulders. Mhairi is the most fun person in the world to be around when she’s in a good mood. She’s outgoing, she’s funny, and she likes to joke around and laugh. But, when she and Hot Egyptian are arguing, she is depressed and moody, and often snaps and yells at people.


I have tried to be a good friend to her and to be there for her, but lately her mood swings have been causing problems between us as well. All of the other girls are kind of afraid of Mhairi and walk on eggshells around her, but I don’t take any of her shit, and I am always honest and direct with her if I think she’s behaving badly. We are definitely the two alpha females of the group, and this causes us to butt heads sometimes. But overall, Mhairi is a very good and sweet person, and I really like her. We have become close friends in the 3 months we’ve been here and I am her one true confidant. Out of everyone, I feel that Mhairi is the person who has been brought into my life for a specific reason. I hope she can heal herself while she is here, because she has so much to offer the world. She is teaching Prep 1 at our school, (which is like 7th grade), and she is a great teacher. She’s very creative and she cares a lot about her students.

...Joelle

Joelle is from Pittsburgh and has spent the past 2 years working in Burkina Faso for the Peace Corps. Joelle has a degree in Journalism, and she is the only person who plans on staying in Egypt and making a life here. She teaches Primary 2, (second grade), and this is her first time teaching. She took a job teaching here as a stepping stone towards another job; she is hoping she can find work as a reporter and quit the school. Out of all of the girls, Joelle is the person who is struggling the most with teaching. She has no control over her students, and she is too disorganized as a person to be able to handle planning ahead for her lessons and keeping all of her students’ records organized. Her “desk” area in the teachers lounge is next to mine, and I often look over to find her staring blankly into space.

Joelle is a very sweet person, but she is extremely socially awkward. Most of the time she quietly observes the rest of us, (well, actually she blatantly stares at us, which makes some of the other girls very uncomfortable), and when she does say something, it is usually difficult for her to get her point across. She says “like” literally 20 times in one sentence, and she often mumbles incomprehensively and repeats the same stories over and over again.

Joelle also has a hard time dealing with the locals here. She is taking an Arabic class with me, and she constantly has her nose in an Arabic phrase book and is scribbling down words she learns, but she has terrible pronunciation of the Arabic language, and people do not understand her here. She gets very frustrated and upset if she is talking to a local and they don’t understand what she is saying. She often will try to say something to them at first in English, but when she does, she talks to them unnecessarily loudly and slowly, (the way people sometimes talk to children or someone who is mentally disabled). If they don’t understand what she says, she just repeats the same word or phrase over and over again, saying it louder and faster each time, until she gets so upset she shakes her fists in the air next to her head. It’s really uncomfortable to watch.

Because of her social awkwardness, many of the girls don’t like to hang out with Joelle, but I like her and I think she is a very interesting person. She is the only one here besides me who seems to genuinely want to immerse herself in the Egyptian culture. We are English teachers, (and most of us are from the United States), who speak and teach English all day, live in a neighborhood full of foreigners, (people not from Egypt), and spend most of our free time together as well. As much as I love the Degla babes, I personally didn’t come to Egypt to spend all of my time with Americans, and I have really been trying to make other friends and to branch out while I’m here. Joelle has a strong desire to make friends with outsiders too, so this brings us together with a common goal.

Recently Joelle and I went to a concert together and met a very interesting group of Egyptians. One of them is a concert promoter named Ali. He and Joelle are now dating, and I am very happy for her. She seems to be much more self confident lately, and I’m sure this relationship will be very beneficial for her.

Abby & Sara H.

Abby


Sara

There are 3 Sara(h)s at our school teaching English, and Sara H. is one of them. I am going to talk about Sara and Abby together because they are so much alike, and they spend so much time together, that the rest of us girls think of them as one person. You can’t have Abby without Sara.

Abby & Sara are both from Massachusetts and went to a private, alternative, arts-based high school together there. They are two of the funniest people I have ever met in my life. They are constantly cracking jokes and making sarcastic remarks about things, and they both have a very dry, witty sense of humor. They also have a unique sense of style that I call sheik-bohemian. They love to wear stripes, polka-dots, and bright colors, and they usually wear mismatching skirts and shirts together and love to layer their clothes. On anyone else, their clothing would look ridiculous, but they both pull it off and somehow look good doing it.

After high school, Abby & Sara moved to D.C. together where they both attended college. Upon graduation, Sara got a job as an English teacher in the Ukraine, and Abby stayed back in D.C. and worked as a bartender. Sara is the one who found out about and applied for a teaching job in Egypt, and then she called Abby to convince her to come with as well. Abby was so distraught over having to go 1 year without Sara while she was in the Ukraine, that she didn’t hesitate in coming to Egypt with her this year.

Abby and Sara were a bit anti-social the first month we were here and they spent all of their free time alone because they wanted to catch up after being apart for a year. However, now they are regulars when we all hang out together, and they are an essential part of the group. I love those 2 girls, and I am always laughing when they are around.

...Helen & Katie W.

Helen (left) and Katie (right)

Helen is from New Zealand and is an only child. She is very close to her parents, and she loves to travel. After college she spent 2 years working odd jobs in London so she could save up money to travel around Europe. I call her Helen Magellan, (after Magellan the explorer), because she has been everywhere. Last year Helen worked as an English teacher in Turkey, for the same school that Mhairi did, although they never met each other until they got here. Mhairi and Helen were working for the same school, but at different locations, and since Istanbul is such a large city, they never ran into each other while they were there.

Helen is normally a quiet, observant person. She has a very calm demeanor and is often the voice of reason in our house of cackling hens. I have never seen her in a bad mood, and she really seems to enjoy and appreciate life. Sometimes when we are at work she will do something completely out of the ordinary like make a hideous face at you, talk in a strange voice, or start doing a bizarre jig in the middle of the teachers' lounge. When she does something like that, it is so unlike her usually well-composed self, that it makes us laugh uncontrollably.

Helen has a great personality and I really like spending time with her. She is teaching Prep 2, (which is the grade below mine), and we spend a lot of time together discussing classroom management and lesson planning. She really wants to learn Arabic while she is here, and she is currently taking classes with Joelle and I.


Katie W. is Helen’s roommate, and she is the Primary 1, (first grade), teacher at our school. She is from Georgia, has 2 sisters, and is very close to her family. Katie’s father is a Religious Studies professor at a small University in Georgia, where Katie attended college. She just graduated from college last spring, and decided afterwards that she wanted to get out of small town, U.S.A. So, she applied for teaching jobs in many different countries, and she eventually chose Egypt.

Katie is a great person. She’s always kind, gentle, and patient with people. She is also a bit of a loner and likes to spend a lot of time by herself, usually reading. Katie has a very disciplined life here; she gets up at 5 in the morning, goes running, goes to work, goes home to change, and then she goes to the gym to work out. After she finishes at the gym, she goes home to cook dinner with Helen and is asleep by 8:00 p.m. Katie has recently found a church here that she likes, and she also spends a lot of time at the church teaching piano lessons and helping with charities.

...Sarah B.

Sarah showing her 'puzzled' look. I have the same shirt in purple and we unintentionally showed up this night wearing the same thing..(again)

Sarah B. is from Rochester, New York, and she has so much in common with me it’s kind of eerie. Not only do we have the same name, we also have many of the same clothes, the same video camera, curling iron, laptop, and the exact same kinds of face cream, deodorant, lotion, and perfume. Like me, Sarah has lived in Madrid and has an undying love for the Spanish language and all things Latino. And, get this….she once had a job as a waitress where she pretended her name was Juanita! Are you kidding me? (For those of you who don’t know, I did the same thing!) Cue twilight zone music, please.


When we are going out on the weekends, Sarah and I will unintentionally show up wearing the same outfit, and we both love to go out salsa dancing. It is really, really strange how much alike we are, and I often wonder if we weren’t twins in a former life.

...Imy

Mohamed & Imy (I don't have any pictures of her alone)

Imy is short for Imogen, and she is a Pastor’s daughter who was primarily raised in California. However, she moved around to various places when she was growing up because her dad was often transferred to different parishes. She is an only child who is very close to her parents.

Imy was the last of the English teachers to arrive in Cairo because she was completing a TEFL, (Teaching English as a Foreign Language) course in Alexandria, Egypt right before we began teaching. Because of this, she missed out on a lot of the bonding that the rest of us shared during the first 2 weeks we were here.

Like Joelle, Imy is kind of socially awkward. She is definately the group nerd; she is always telling dumb jokes and then laughing so hard at them that she starts to snort. I don't want to sound mean, but man, her jokes are dumb! Imy has led a very sheltered and protected life, and she has not experienced a lot of things. Because of this, she has a hard time relating to the rest of us, and it's difficult for her sometimes to get in on our conversations. However, Imy is a very sweet person and I love her dearly. She never has a bad thing to say about anyone, and she is an extremely dedicated and hardworking person.

I have seen a lot of growth and change in Imy in the 3 months she’s been here, and I have a feeling this experience will probably have a tremendous impact on her life. She recently started dating an Egyptian guy who owns a pet shop on our street, (we affectionately call him "Pet Shop Boy"), and he is a great guy. She is very happy with him, and I think he will be really good for her.

...Lacie & Mohammed

Lacie is from a very small town in Maryland. Up until now, she has lived in the same town her entire life. She worked at the local Wal-Mart to help put herself through college, and then continued working there after she graduated because she had been promoted to a management position.

Lacie is really into rap music, and met a rapper named Mohammed in a chat room about 6 or 7 months ago. Mohammed is from Palestine, but like many people from his country, he is currently living as a refugee because of the problems and conflict that have been going on between Israel and Palestine. Mohammed and his cousin fled to Egypt about a year ago, and they are living here until it is safe for them to go home, (if and when that ever happens).

Mohammed is the leader of a very good rap group called PR, the Palestinian Rapperz. Their music isn’t about cars, hos, and money, like most American rap is. Mohammed’s group is trying to send a message of peace and hope through their music, and he is also trying to educate people about what is going on in the Gaza Strip area.

So, Mohammed and Lacie met in a chat room and eventually fell in love. After 2 months of online dating, she flew to Egypt to meet him. While she was here, they decided to marry. She stayed with him for about a month and then flew back to the U.S. to get more of her belongings. While she was back in the U.S., she applied for a few different teaching jobs in Egypt and was eventually offered a job teaching at Sakkara. In August she flew back to Egypt to begin teaching.

When I first met Lacie, I thought that she was incredibly naïve. She seemed to be the typical small town girl who was dying to get away from home and jumped at the first chance she got to do so. I seriously doubted her and Mohammed’s motives and their love for each other. However, after getting to know these two as individuals and as a couple, I can see that they really are in love with each other and support each other. They are both good, kind people and I really hope they make it. I’m such a sucker for love.

Nile + Pyramids + Karaoke = My First Weekend in Cairo...Marvelous!!

My first glimpse of the Nile River


Another view of the Nile


My first view of the pyramids. Photo taken from a cab window.

View from cab 2

absolutely beautiful

With the girls on the way into the downtown Cairo Marriott for karaoke

Mhairi and Hot Egyptian

Mhairi with Mahmoud and Ez, (Mahmoud's best friend)

Getting hopped up on sugar and waiting for the karaoke action to begin!

I LOVE Turkish coffee!

Home at last! 5 am pizza with the Katies

The first weekend we were here, the girls and I decided our most important goal was to see the pyramids. After we finished work that Thursday, we went home to change and then met at 5:00 to take a cab to Giza, the neighborhood where the pyramids are located. Five of us crammed into one cab, and we chatted excitedly the entire way there. We were very wound up because this was the end of our first week of work, (prepping to get things ready for school to begin), and it was also our first venture out of Maadi, (our neighborhood).

Five minutes after the cab left our street, we were on a main highway that crossed the Nile. The NILE!!! This was our first glimpse of the infamous river, and when we saw it, we started shrieking and snapping pictures like crazed Japanese tourists! The cab driver laughed to himself and pulled over to the side of the road so we could get out and take more photos.

I can’t describe how absolutely amazing it was to be standing over a bridge looking at the Nile River for the first time. It was everything I had imagined it to be. Lush, green palms and foliage surrounded the river, and lights from nearby buildings softly reflected off the water’s surface. In the distance I could see farmers harvesting their crops; corn, tomatoes, potatoes, and many other vegetables are planted in the fertile soil of the river banks. Donkeys drank peacefully from the water, and birds glided through the air. It was spellbinding.

The cab driver waited patiently while we got our fill of the view, and then we hopped back in and headed towards the pyramids. We drove about another 5 minutes, and then someone started screaming. Literally screaming. “Oh my Goood, there they are!!!” I looked to my right, and through the cab window I could see the tips of the 3 largest pyramids brushing the sky. The sun was setting at that moment, and the sky was bathed in the most amazing hues of orange and gold. I thought I could die at that moment; it was SO incredibly beautiful.

We all started shrieking with excitement again and taking pictures from the cab windows. The driver laughed and drove on. Eventually we turned off from the highway and headed into the Giza neighborhood. I couldn’t believe my eyes. We had entered another world. This was the real Cairo, not the foreigner-filled la-la land of our neighborhood Maadi. Donkeys that were attached to carts plodded alongside cars, peasant women stood at the side of the road selling their fruits and vegetables, barefooted children ran everywhere, and wise, weary-looking men sat outside of shops and restaurants at little plastic tables, smoking shisha and watching the world go by. I was entranced.

A few minutes later the cab driver stopped and told us in his broken English that we should walk up the street and ask someone about tickets for the pyramids. There were barricades up in the streets and guards standing nearby, and he couldn’t drive us any further. He wished us luck and gave us his number in case we would need him when we were done. We said goodbye, thanked him, and made our way up the street. We were instantly swarmed by men. “You want the pyramids?” “You want to ride horses?” “200 pounds, 300 pounds” We ignored them and walked on. Bonnie had told us there was an official ticket office for the pyramids and that it would cost 150 pounds to get in, (which is about $30). There were many men who took people on horseback and camel riding expeditions around the pyramids, but we were told it wasn’t always safe for girls to do alone, and that we should stick to the ticket office.

However, when we got there, a gaurd standing near the entrance told us that the tours for the inside of the pyramids close at 3:00 every day, so we were too late. I was so disappointed! The gaurd continued to explain to us that there are also sound and light shows right outside of the pyramids every evening, but the final show that night had started at 6:00. We had just missed it. Although we were bummed, we decided just to try again the next day. I looked up once more at the tops of the pyramids jutting proudly into the sky before me, and I got goose bumps. I couldn't wait to see them even closer up and to explore the rooms inside of them, but I would have to!

Since it was our first night out on the town in Cairo, we decided we should make the most of it. Hot Egyptian had called Mhairi and told her that there was karaoke going on in one of the hotel bars downtown, so we got another cab and made our way to meet him and his friends.
The hotel bars in Cairo are very expensive, and even more so during Ramadan when booze is especially prohibited and frowned upon. Many places have a minimum cover charge, or a minimum amount that you have to spend when you are there. This hotel bar had a minimum cover of 100 pounds each, (about $20), and alcoholic drinks were anywhere from 50 to 75 pounds each, ($10 to $15 each). However, Hot Egyptian likes to play sugar daddy to us, so he paid for us to get in and also bought a round of drinks for us.

I ended up having so much fun that night! For starters, I couldn’t believe how big the karaoke binder was and how many different songs they had for people to choose from. At first there was no one really in the place besides us, but after an hour it was packed. However, I was the only one in our group who was singing, so after we were there for a couple of hours, the other girls got bored and we decided to go somewhere else. (I really wished you could have been there, Annie…)

Mahmoud got his car and drove us to another place downtown called the Cairo Jazz Club. This place has a lot of live music, but this particular night there was a DJ who was playing house music. Mahmoud knew the bouncers, so we all got in for free, and he also got us a great table. We stayed there until 4 in the morning dancing and drinking coffee. Mahmoud and Mhairi were very happy and they were getting along great for once, so we all had a wonderful time.