Two of my favorite people...

...Robert and Nour.



We volunteered as elves at a Christmas party.

Yeah, we're pretty cool.

Ahamdolilah

Yurhamkuum allah.

A couple of things

Thing #1: A girl fainted in class yesterday. Robert told me that the same thing happened last week when I couldn't make it. What's up with that? I mean, I was glad for the five minute break in an otherwise mind-numbing class, but it was so bad that the girl passed out? Wow.

Thing #2: The doc says I can exercise again, it being the month-versary of my operation. Thus, it's time to work out like animals again.

Thing #3: There's always a third thing.

Thing #4: Festivus started yesterday, and it's been fabulous. I got a trash can today. I can't wait to find out who drew my name, and I'm excited for the last day so my identity can be revealed. I love Festivus. It's a holiday for the rest of us.

The Hand of the Lord

Um.

So.

I woke up and my room was on fire.

More precisely, my heater had melted through its own stand and was on fire, along with the floor.

The floor right next to the carpet. That is right next to my bed.

So yeah, I'm chalking this one up to the Hand of the Lord for so many reasons. I woke up, and caught it early enough to stop it. Michael was still awake and quite in control of his faculties, and thus threw some water on it. It didn't spread very far, and there isn't too much damage (except for a spot of melted plastic on my floor). Also, unbelievably, my landlady wasn't very mad and in fact was grateful that I was alright. That was pleasant.

Anyway, it's midnight now. I think I'm going to try and sleep again, although it is certainly a rush to wake up to a fire where there shouldn't be fire.

Definitely the Hand of the Lord.

Pictures!

I've got a ton of pictures to post, and there's more to come when everyone sends in the last of the pictures. For now though, enjoy:

For Halloween, Melissa and I were awesome tigers





For Thanksgiving, Jacob bought a 28 lb. bird, and it came with the head



I thought I was original until I saw Jacob kissing the turkey too





Here we are in mixing Thanksgiving with No-Shave November



We had to have props for our beards, so mine was a girl (Thanks Nour!)



The last day











Exhibition day





I hope Robert never shaves this off





I hope this link works, because it's to a photo album on Facebook. That way, you can see all of the pictures of No-Shave November.

Also, I wrote this in the "Edit HTML" section of Blogger, like I always do, and if it weren't for cut and paste, wow, I don't know what I would've done. Please don't view this page's source, because it will make you cry.

No-Shave November

Well, it's that time of the year again, and No-Shave November is coming to a close. Tomorrow is the big competition, and the next day is the exhibition. Pretty exciting, I know. It's normally No-Shave December, or Decembeard, or Handlebar Hannakah, but since Molly's coming in December and I know she hates facial hair, I charitably moved it to November. There's actually a Movember, a Mustache November, which is a charity for prostate cancer research. How about that?

Anyway, I went to the orphanage with Saba and Tammam today, and it was awesome. Despite my fears, it was clean, well-kept, and had computers for the children. The workers there were incredibly pleasant and answered all of my questions for me. Simply amazing.

One of the little boys we visited reached out and touched my chin. He rubbed his hand on my beard for a second and then asked, "Are you a sheikh?" He meant a sheikh of Islam, so I said no, and then he asked if Tammam was a sheikh.

So No-Shave November brought holiday cheer to the orphans, too. It's a No-Shave November miracle.

Can we get just a little sense of propriety please?

I don't know if this will mean as much to you as it does to me, so I'll try to explain a little first.

Egyptians are ultra-conservative. I mean, I thought I was ultra-conservative, but I have nothing on the Egyptians. Please forgive my sweeping generalizations, I'm just going to tell you how I see it daily.

Egyptians generally don't wear shorts outside of the home. In fact, I see a lot of people dress up pretty nicely just to go to the grocery store. Lots of women wear the head veil, and those that don't will often be covered neck to ankles anyway.

Sex before marriage is totally anathema to most Egyptians. To many, a guy and a girl leaving together is bad, or being alone in a car together is bad, or even going into an apartment together is bad. Like really bad. It will ruin your reputation, and you can kiss a reputable marriage goodbye after that.

There's more, but to get to my point, our hot water has been out and is getting fixed today. We've been showering downstairs in the Brits' apartment yesterday and today, and if any of the Egyptians knew, i.e., our our landlady, that just wouldn't look good at all.

So I went to let John in, and he had walked up two flights of steps, past our landlady's apartment, only in his towel.

That's courage.

There is another...

I went to Khaled's tonight, great guy, really like him. So Gamila was there too, from the Middlebury program, and when she heard about my kidney surgery, she told me that she only has one kidney. I was surprised, and welcomed her into my One Kidney Club. Now we're four (shout-out to Jason Salas and Deidra).

And then she said that she has two kidneys, but they're stuck together. I asked, "A horse shoe kidney?" Turns out, there are two of us.

We almost did a kidney bump, but I still have a massive wound across my side. Katie, please send me pictures of that so I can decide whether or not they can be posted here.

On an unrelated note, there were literally puddles of blood all over the street today. I mean, they did an amazing job of cleaning up the sheep's blood in my building, I couldn't believe how well they did. But it is still running in the streets, and it smells terrible.



Sarah, the picture is for you. Hopefully more to come soon.

Melissa's Post

I just read Melissa's latest post, and you must read it too. Click here to blow your mind.

Also, how do you get a pilot light to come back on? I'm so useless at this stuff. And our water is freezing. I hate that.

Oh, and today is the day that everyone is on the streets killing sheep. The mosque across the street was reciting a very lovely prayer for a couple of hours. Woke me up. But it was nice.

-------------------------------------------------------
Update, a couple of minutes after I posted above:

OH MY GOODNESS. There has been a pounding sound all morning long, so Michael showed me the source: There are three men downstairs in our building butchering sheep. In our building. I will endeavor to get someone to take a picture.

Happy Thanksgiving

When I was at the grocery store yesterday, a lady turned to me and started up a conversation. Upon hearing my accent, she asked if I was Egyptian. I said, "No, I'm American" and she asked, "But you're Egyptian-American, right?" It took me a couple of minutes to convince her that I was just American. She then asked me if the Egyptians were nice people. I said yes, and she proceeded to ask me three more times just to make sure. She was very happy and pleasant when I said yes.

Then she went to the meat counter and started yelling at a worker there.

Happy Thanksgiving to you too.

Thanksgiving

So we had our Flagship Family Thanksgiving yesterday, and it was a smashing success.

Lots of people cooked or ordered food, and it was all delicious. We did the traditional giving of thanks individually while we were eating, and it was good times.

But the best times turned out to be the Feel Good Session. Tammam suggested it a while ago, and what a hit. It sounds a little hokie, but we all just went around and said what we liked about each person, and I really feel like that brought us all closer.

Jacob also bought a 28 lb. bird, head included. Oh yeah.

Family Love

So Jacob is my favorite brother. He's awesome. Even his name is awesome: Jacob Matthew Wright. Be careful, just saying this name might result in YOUR MIND BEING BLOWN. Yes.

Here's a recent conversation he and I had on Facebook that I think warrants a blog post:

Jacob Wright: and how was your day today

Tom Wright: It is going well so far. I didn't make it to Church, but that could have something to do with the kidney stone surgery I just went through. Do you read my blog? It's: http://tom-in-egypt.blogspot.com/

Jacob Wright: kidney stone surgery? that sucks and I'm sad to say that I don't read your blog... but maybe I'll start and excuses excuses you need to go to church haha

Tom Wright: Read the blog dude, and show Mom, since I think I forgot to tell her about the surgery. They cut me open dude, I have such a sweet scar. I'll give you one for your birthday later, if you want.

Jacob Wright: haha you're too funny but I'll whoop on you tom you don't know who you're messing with now haha and I'll tell her.

Tom Wright: Trust me pudge-boy, I know exactly who I'm messing with. Now do you want a chill scar or not?

Jacob Wright: pudge-boy? I could gain ten pounds and still be skinny but as for you, you'd jsut get fat, not that your head needs anymore added to it. fatty-mo-fat-fat! and I'll have to consider this "tempting" offer

Tom Wright: Okay, I'm about to write a blog post about this conversation, so go read it in like, I don't know, 10 minutes.

I guess Jacob hasn't seen me lately, since I've lost a ton of weight just being in Egypt, and then a ton more in the hospital. I just asked Michael how much he thinks I've lost, and he said 5-10 pounds. Lots of people at school have commented as well.

Which leads me to my next point: The Egyptian diet. It just works. Forget your weight-loss shakes, pills, and terrible diets, and just come visit me in Egypt. I'll even take you to the hospital if you want.

Connected Again

My computer has been out of commission for a while, but Ahmed Gamal helped me fix it yesterday, and I finally got online from my house today. It's good to be connected again. To fix it, we had to re-install Linux on it, and it erased all of my old pictures, music, videos, and documents. This is not that big of a deal, but for one thing:

I had a really high score on Killbots. I mean, like a really high score.

Man.

Scribbles in the Hospital

So I found some notes that I took while I was in the first couple of days of hallucinations in the hospital. Smart of me to have written what I wouldn't remember, right?

The doctors confronted me about drug abuse. They also asked Robyn. When I told Wahaba about this, he said they asked him the same thing when he took me in for my other surgeries. They put me on double doses of six different kinds. They think that since I'm resistant to the drugs they gave me, I must have used them already and built up an immunity. And I don't even drink alcohol. Hmm.

Oh, and when they were administering some of the drugs, they were afraid I was going to go into arrest, because my blood pressure was dangerously low (which is weird, 'cause the drugs made my heart race uncontrollably sometimes). So they were trying to scale it back, and I was ordering them to give me more, and "the real stuff". They told me the dangers and I said, "I am willing to take that risk". Good thing they listened to a doped-up patient and gave me more. Man, that surgery hurt.

They also didn't have any water in the hospital. So the nurses would often ask, "Did you drink any water today? No? Why not?" I'd never really get why they thought my answer would change if I was confined to bed and they weren't bringing me anything.

Also, I'm lactose intolerant, so I am wary of milk, cheese, yogurt, etc. Most of the meals involved milk, and one was only milk, cheese, and yogurt. I'd tell them that I couldn't eat that, so they'd just take it away and not replace it. Or if they did replace it, they'd make me trade away juice for bread. So then it was a choice of whether I wanted to keep the only liquid around, or if I wanted to eat. Those were fun times.

So yeah, I'm glad I wrote that all down when I was in the midst of it all. Who doesn't love going to the hospital?

Oh, and I went yesterday to get the stitches out at 11AM, so of course the doctor didn't show up until 2:30PM. And they didn't take all of the stitches out. Yippee.

It's just a different culture...

So Nour has featured a couple of times already in my blog, and here goes another:

Whenever a procession of cars goes down the streets honking wildly, I either tune it out since that's totally normal, or I try to tune it out since it's also totally annoying.

Nour starts clapping rhythmically and dancing like she does, and says, "Oh yay, a wedding."

It's just a different culture.

By the way, computer is supposed to get fixed tomorrow, Ahmed Gamal is going to work on it, so I will hopefully soon be writing to all of those that would have otherwise received something from me.

It's a good thing chicks dig scars...

You may have noticed my silence on Gmail, Facebook, and various blogs lately. I've been in Siwa for a bit, as mentioned last post, and my computer is a little out of commission right now. But the last four days I've been in the hospital for a kidney operation.

Let's just say that you'd be surprised how many muscle groups use your abs, obliques, and lower back muscles. I now know just how often those are used as that's where they cut me open to get my massive kidney stone out of me.

So I went in, they put me under, and I woke up and said some unkind things for a couple of minutes to the nurses and doctors. At least, that's all I could remember. Robyn later told me that I was going insane on them for three hours, and I said this (among other things):

(Disclaimer for future employers and voters: I was under six different kinds of medications at this point. I was not responsible for my words or actions.)

Where's Robyn? Robyn, will you please kill everyone in this room for me?
Where's the real doctor? Who are you? Where's the real medicine? What are you giving me?
Robyn, will you shake these people like little children?
This is a nation of liars! They say two minutes, but they mean two hours!
(The doctor told me that it looked like the pain was going away.) No, I'm stoic man!
When does this wear off? Four hours? Great, I get to dance this dance with you again in four hours.
Robyn, tell this nurse to get away from my right side. Tell her to stand on my left. My right side is free, and I can kill her with it.
Stop laughing. You think I can't hear you, but I can. It's not funny.
Stop lying to me! Why are you lying?

There was more, but I don't remember most of it. My eyes were rolled up in the back of my head and I couldn't see anything. They finally got me under control, and the four days of hallucinations started. I remember seeing a woman at the light switch, and a few minutes later I realized that my eyes were closed, so I opened them and there wasn't a lady there at all. I also remember trying to wind my watch, but the hands kept spinning at different intervals. Then I looked in the mirror and half of my face was shaved, but I realized I was still in my bed and there wasn't a mirror and I still hadn't shaved. The hallucinations were weird, but they passed the time.

The doc came in on the fourth day and pulled a tube out of me that was collecting unsafe liquids in my body, and it was attached to a six-inch stick that had been stuck into my side. That was a rather unfortunate experience.

Anyway, I'm out, I'm going to try to fix my computer today or tomorrow so I can get back in touch with the outside world. Oh, and they tell me that I can't exercise for a month. Man.

I'll try to post some pictures when the bandages are off or when I can get an approximate size of the stone or something.

Until.

Siwa

Just got back from Siwa, and what a trip. I usually feel really good about coming back to Alexandria, like coming back home, but this time was different. Siwa was so nice that coming back just wasn't like coming back from Dahab or Sharm or Cairo.

We hit up a hot oasis, and it was amazing. We slept in the desert, and we ran around in Land Cruisers, up and down dunes. So much fun. Sandboarded down a dune a couple of times, and got completely naked and laid down on a dune to watch the stars. Scratched that goal off the list of life goals. Swam in another oasis, and drove a donkey cart when the driver got off and said, "You. You drive. You drive now." He then proceeded to run off to a mosque to pray. Oh, watched the sunrise from the top of a dune, and had to have Katlyn be a human space heater because of my uncontrollable shivering. The desert was freezing at night. Unfortunately, lost my wallet while I was in Siwa, so here's to hoping my new bank card gets here soon.

The best quote of the trip was by Katlyn:
Tom: I have sand in my hair.
Katlyn: I have sand in my everywhere.

Oh, and we also had a dance party in the desert, and that was fun, and really hard. Turns out, dancing on sand is not the easiest thing in the world to do.

Played an intensely cut-throat version of Mafia on the way back, and Tammam was simply amazing. That guy is hilarious.

Choppy post because my computer needs fixing, and I'm on John's, and I feel pressure to hurry even though he's out for the night. Thanks to Abinadi, I'll have my computer up and running soon, so there will be pictures soon.

Until.

Happy Halloween

So, pictures are forthcoming, but I'll just throw it out there: Melissa and I were tigers for Halloween, and it was AWESOME. Yes, I just wrote that in all caps, BAM.

The first cab that I hailed saw us and the guy just took off, he wasn't having any of our shenanigans. We made it out to the Halloween party, and the entire way people were staring unashamedly at us. It was hilarious. I get stared at anyway, and girls get it way worse than I do, but this was unreal. I think I'd get the same reaction if I lit myself on fire and walked down the street.

Anyway, the tiger stripes were perfect, that was a result of Melissa's hours of hard work. The tails were sweet, good old Egyptian scarves. The hair dye was a mess, but it was fun.

I love dressing up.

Is it in you?

So I put some orange clothing dye in my hair as a little experiment to make sure it'd work for my Halloween costume, and then Robert and I hit up the gym. A couple of things about that:

Robert's water bottle rolled under a bench and he thought someone stole it, so he went around asking everyone if they had taken it, or had seen it, and then when he found it he felt like a tool. It was hilarious.

We worked out like animals yesterday. We worked so many muscle groups. Working out with an ex-marine has been really good for me.

Anyway, about the orange dye, I was lifting and looking in the mirror when I noticed orange sweat dripping down my face. It was very Gatorade-like.

I'm in love with love

Having a girlfriend in the winter is a million times better than the summer. Having a girlfriend year-round would probably be ideal, but if it was between the two, winter wins.

Summer has some good things: sports, swimming, barbecues, fireworks. It's not all bad. But, it also has sweat, heat, reliance on AC, not wanting to move because it's hot, etc.

Winter has it's bad things: cold, wet, slushy, icy, freezing, snow, ice. But man, what good cuddling weather. You can also dress up more in the winter, thus looking nicer. Winter is for staying inside under a blanket and being glad you're not out in the wet cold.

Which is why I'd be bummed whenever I wasn't dating someone in the winter. Especially if I had been dating someone in the summer. Miss all the good, catch all the bad? Terrible.

This all took place in a conversation that Michael and I just had. The power went out for a while, so we got some candles and Michael turned on some music, and said this was the best time for inviting the gf over. Man, what a bummer. I could've danced all night to music with candles. Not having a girlfriend during a power-outage is like not dating someone during the winter.

It made me think of the time a girl and I danced in the parking lot of her dorm, to my car stereo. That was in the winter too, come to think of it. Sometimes situations are just perfect for that kind of thing. Or they would be, anyway.

Turns out, it's all moot anyway. I just drank some poison (doctor prescribed poison, mind you) that makes me pretty incapable of having any kind of company over right now. The poison is for an x-ray tomorrow to prep for an upcoming surgery. The doc finally agreed to cut me open and take out the stone, so here's to hoping that gets put on the calendar soon.

Yeah, that was just my musings during a power-outage. Winter dancing to car stereos or power-outage candlelight dancing. Man, right about now I'd take almost any kind of dancing. Welcome in Egypt!

Some More Random Stuff

I had a goal today with John and Sarah to speak Arabic only, all day. So of course today is the day that all the teachers and administrators of the program came to have a meeting with us in English. I mentioned my goal to one of them, and he insisted that I continue with it and that he would translate for me. I told him I'd make an exception for this meeting, but he wouldn't have that at all. So yeah, I ended up looking like a tool because there were people there that couldn't understand Arabic and there I was refusing to speak a word of English. At least Khaled and I had a good laugh about it afterward.

Robert and I went to the gym and he nearly murdered me again. After I'm done with a set, he puts on three times as much weight as I had, and then after my last set he added my weights to his weights. Yeah, that just happened. I don't know how I make it back to my apartment on these days. I mean really, I don't know how either of us climb the four flights of stairs. Our legs are just torn to shreds.

The tailor on the next street over is an artist. Wow. I have a healthy respect for a man that can work with his hands, like every time Edgar or Abinadi or Andrew fixed my car while I looked on completely useless. This tailor, Hasan, is a magician. Many of you might know that I'm the cheapest man alive, and I've been giving a lot of thought to buying some new clothes here. I've shopped for them, I've looked at fabrics to make shirts, I've asked opinions. The thing that held me back was that I already have enough clothes. They just didn't look as good as they could. So applying a life lesson (If it's broken, fix it), I took them to the tailor, and wow, just wow. It's not hard for me to see how this guy makes a living, he's the best at what he does. The only person I can think of better is Stephanie Hall. So, I'm forty Egyptian pounds lighter, but that's less than $8 to have several items of clothing look a lot nicer. Uh, so good.

You guys that have written me your life stories are amazing. These letters are really good, and if they weren't private correspondence, I'd post them to this blog. I mean, honestly, this is really good stuff. I think more people should write. It'd sell.

Oh, and one last thing, and maybe the most awesome thing: I have a quote on my facebook page from years back. It says, "My eyes free what the page imprisons: the white the white and the black the black." In the t-shirt business that I'm starting, I want to put this in Arabic on a shirt. Trying to find this quote in Arabic has been miserable. I contacted at least two professors at the University of Alexandria, a professor at the University of Texas, the publisher of the book I found it in (City Lights Books) and several of my friends. Finally Adam Talib from Cairo Scholars wrote me back with the translation, which is:


يفدي الصحيفة ناظري
فبياضها ببياضه وسوادها بسواده

So that's coming soon, and the shirt is going to look awesome. We have two in the design room now, getting tweaked (or started on, whichever you choose).

Just some random stuff.

Ah, relief...

I passed a kidney stone this morning. A-ham-do-lil-lah.

It wasn't the one that they're trying to kill with the radiation, but any improvement is welcome.

Keep on keepin' on.

My life

I am a college graduate. I am a degree holder from an esteemed four-year university. The University of Texas at Austin. I have a degree in Arabic Language and Literature with a minor in Middle Eastern Studies.

And I work in a t-shirt factory in a third world country.

Yes, that is my life.

And, I kind of like it.

The Ramen Comparison

There are some people that I will listen to and then do whatever they say.

Katherine Kang is one of these people. I ran into Katherine on the street outside the Institute one day and asked her, "Are you smarter than me?"

She said, "No."

She's clearly smarter than I am.

So when she told me, an Arabic Language and Literature major and Middle Eastern Studies minor, to take an accounting class, I did it without a second thought. Turned out to be one of the best classes in which I learned the most practical material out of my entire college experience.

When Katherine found out that I skipped a test to play Ultimate Frisbee, she got so mad. She told me to knock that off, and without question I did. I got a B in that class, and when I did the math I realized that if I had gone to that test I would've gotten an A.

When Katherine Kang tells me to do something, I just do it.

Some people have similar effects on me, not quite to the same extent. One of those people is a guy, which is weird for me. Mostly because I instinctively just trust guys less than I trust girls. My poor roommate Michael couldn't convince me at all to buy certain fabrics for shirts because it was so hard for me to trust his perspective as a guy. Contrast that to Abinadi Ayerdis, who has a pretty good success rate at getting me to do things that he says. He convinced me not to ask a friend to photograph my wedding for free, citing that it'd be like someone asking me to take a non-paid day off to do some hard core Arabic translation. He has stopped me from dating girls that would be terrible for me, when I couldn't see the forest through the trees. He helps me stop being such a jerk whenever he asks me about Christ-like attributes.

Then there's Stephanie Hall, who gets frustrated when she tells me to do things because I argue with her the entire time. I don't think she knows how often I know she's right and I'm just being a belligerent jerkface, and I end up doing what she tells me to anyway.

Poor Andrew Taylor has a dismal success rate in this area. We've been best friends for, what, thirteen years now? I don't know how we've made it at all. Probably because he's such a good person.

Shamefully, I've had Bishops who've had a hard time getting me to do things. They do have a better success rate than most, though. They should probably just call Katherine and tell her to tell me what to do.

Molly Lewis is another example of someone who can get me to do most things. I'd say her success rate is roughly the same as Abinadi's. She tells me not to talk in a surgery, and the next time I was a lot quieter than the last time. She tells me to eat more carbohydrates because my protein only diet is unhealthy, so I do.

And that's the long version of how John and I came to be eating Ramen noodles tonight. I needed to eat some carbohydrates because Molly told me to.

I ate the chicken curry flavor, and John ate the plain chicken flavor. He's decided that the plain chicken flavor is just a bit tastier than all of the others. I'm going to have to taste them all now to find out.

Ironic

Did I write about my second kidney surgery here? If so, here's a little repeat, if not, then here it is:

Basically they drugged me three times so that they could get me to stop talking.

Yup. I talked throughout the entire thing, until they finally got enough inside of me to put me down.

So that was two weeks ago, and today I came in for my third surgery. This time I only remember waking up, telling them that there was too much pain, and then asking them to continue with the surgery when they were winding down. Apparently there's only so much radiation a body can handle, but try explaining that to a very determined drugged person. They finally convinced me, and I somehow made it out of there.

So I came home and made kidney sandwiches. I don't think I'll be buying that meat anymore. Smells bad when cooking. Doesn't have the greatest flavor, either.

A Typical Sabbath?

Back in Texas I used to lament with Jared and Andrew about the long hours we pulled on the Sabbath.

"Man, I got here at 8AM and left at 5PM. I haven't eaten this whole time. It's like every Sunday is Fast Sunday".

"Well, I got here at 7AM and I'm headed to the other ward right now. I might come home today."

Those were, legitimately, long hours. But it was fun, I had responsibility, and the social aspect was certainly enjoyable.

Today I left the house at 5:35AM and got back at 9PM. I took a microbus to Cairo, and so did a human organs dealer and a hash possessor. The driver wasn't interested in making them pay the full price. Maram and Melissa were less happy with the situation than I was. I think it didn't help that Maram speaks perfect Egyptian Arabic and understood exactly what was going on.

Church was nice, then an excellent lunch at the Cannons'. I love how the Saints treat the Saints. I asked my friend Kevin, "Where's lunch today?" and before we could try and find out, the Cannon's invited us over for food they prepared last night in case the YSAs needed something. Yeah, that just happened. Mexican food, at that.

We then get on the metro to get to the train station, and a guy keeps staring at Melissa and Maram, so I stare back until I catch his eye. I think he realized I wasn't happy with him when I stared at him for several minutes, with him nervously glancing at me every couple of seconds to see if I was still looking. It was almost unfortunate that he got off the metro as soon as he did, I was having fun.

Then an expensive three hour train ride home, in which sleep was quite elusive.

And that's my Sabbath now. Certainly not the same as before, but with longer hours. Sometimes I have to remind myself that it's a different kind of fun. But still fun.

Oh happy day

Sometimes Egypt really wears on your patience. I mean it really does. I don't know that I'll ever live here again after this year is over. There's the sexual harassment, the terrible hospitals.

But there are some good times, too.

Today Mubarak, our downstairs British Bengali neighbor, dropped a cake off for us. It's also Katie's birthday today, so we had a cake at her house, and our landlady brought her a cake that she gave to us since she had so much.

Three cakes in one day?

Oh yeah.

And that's after last night, when I was craving sugar so badly that I ate jelly out of the jar with a spoon. Good old only been eating protein for weeks.

Some Random Stuff

The weights here aren't marked, so you have to guess sometimes how much you're lifting. This drives me crazy, since I have pretty specific goals. Also, lifting in kilos is hard because the jump from 5 kilos to 10 kilos is from 11 pounds to 22 pounds. No in between if you want to go up gradually.

When I was visiting Katie in the hospital, the doctor was going to come and check her out. When he came in he said, "Tom! How are you?" Everyone was pretty confused that we knew each other, but I'm not sure why.

I had another surgery for the kidney stone, and they gave me three times as many drugs as last time. Why? Because I was talking throughout the whole thing and it took them that much to knock me out. Wahaba won't tell me what I said, since I can't remember most of it, and that makes me kind of suspicious.

I tried to skype from school yesterday, and they turned the power off on me after class. Tried to get skype paid for at home, and it wouldn't accept payment. Finally got a hold of Molly by chat and sent her my skype info, and she logged in and paid for me using my bank information. Is that bad? I mean, is there a legal issue with that?

Also, I want to see how this works:

Vacation planning by Tripbase

Stay tuned for more exciting adventures.

Oh, and I'm going to rock a dance party for the holiday coming up, very exciting.

Order in the court!

I got back from Church in Cairo (which was awesome, thanks for asking) and settled down to write a blog post for my new LDS YSAs blog. I didn't get very far when Michael came running in and yelled, "Tom, I need your help!"
"Does this help require me putting on a shirt?"
"Uh, yeah, we're going to court."

Apparently the guy who messed with Sarah and Katie (full story here) is going to jail for seven years. Sarah and Katie felt that was too strong, so to reduce the sentence they had to go to court to say that they "forgive" him, and the sentence drops to three years. That's where we come in: translators.

We grab Sarah from the hospital, leave Katie there to recover, and head over to the court. Now this was a trip. Inside this terribly dilapidated building were several guards, all concerned about where we were going. I don't know the cause for alarm, the only things in the entire court were piles of trash (seriously, literal trash) that the police were guarding. Maybe killing the pigs of Egypt means that trash has to pile up in the courthouse, too.

So we translate (mostly Michael) and we're about to go when they realize that Sarah is in fact not Katie, but Sarah.

If that's confusing to you, try being there simultaneously translating.

They finally sort out which girl we've brought with us, and we take off. Back home, we all relax (mostly I'm doing the relaxing, after all, it's been a long day in Cairo). Sarah gets a call from Katie. Now they want Katie to go to the court to make a statement. Katie is at this time (9:30PM) recovering from her appendicitis surgery, so she hands the phone to the nurse and I tell the nurse that under no uncertain terms is Katie to be removed from the hospital. Of course the nurse can't understand my accent, especially on the phone, so I hand it to Michael and he gets the message across.

I feel like I used a lot of parentheses in this post.

I also feel like I don't have to lie to make my life sound interesting and exciting.

I wish I was joking...

...but I'm not.

I went to the hospital to see Katie today, and she related to me an interesting experience.

A male employee had been really sweet to her and Sarah the day before, and then he started taking pictures of Sarah, and then he tried to kiss her today. While she was gone running errands for Katie, the same man came in to Katie's room and took pictures of her and kissed her while she was recovering from the appendix surgery.

She called Sarah, who came back and complained to the hospital staff. Shortly thereafter, several doctors dragged the guy in and beat the tar out of him in front of Katie, you know, to reassure her. A half hour later the same guy was dragged in by the cops and the tar was then beat out of him again, and then he was hauled off to jail.

So, yeah, that just happened.

I went to the hospital, and this time it wasn't for me!!!

Ah, it feels so good to write that. I am feeling a little sick, but this hospital visit was not for me, praise be to Allah.

So. At three in the morning my roommate comes in to tell me that our downstairs neighbor, Katie, is sick. Being that it is three in the morning, I promptly fall back asleep unaware of the world.

Because Michael is a hero, he took her to the hospital with her roommate and came back several hours later. I heard that she was going to be fine, no worries, we can visit later.

So we do.

And just in the nick of time. I came in and they needed a translator something serious. Katie is from England, and doesn't speak Arabic at all. Not even studying it.

And they're going to take out her appendix.

Yes.

So I get to be the one who drops that bombshell. "Hey, you've been in Egypt for a week, you've never had an operation before, but they're taking out your appendix. It's an adventure! It's all part of the experience. I guess it's just your turn."

I have a really good bedside manner. Maybe my calling was to be a doctor.

Where I live

Michael and I have been brainstorming names for our new apartment, and today we finally settled on the winner:

The Consulate.

Bam.

Egypt's Camels

I went to talk to Jim and Tracy one day in Dahab, probably for an hour or two. Good conversation. I left, and later regretted leaving so soon, because this happened about an hour after I left:



I guess these camels just came running in from the street and jumped right into the pool. It took them quite a while to get them out of there, too.

A Shout Out To Abinadi

Abinadi is my old roommate, an excellent blogger, a genius in a variety of aspects, but most importantly to me, he is one of my very best friends.

He recently posted this which I recommend reading before continuing on to my post.

So. I went to buy some bread, and I saw our doorman on the street. He is going to come tomorrow to clean our apartment since the cleaning lady seems to have found new work. We stopped and exchanged pleasantries, and he asked, "What time do you get up?" I replied that I got up early, and might be up at six or seven. He then laughed and said, "Six or seven? That's impossible, how does my coming by at ten or eleven sound?"

It sounds great, but what was your original question?

Ack.

This brings up a couple of other things. First, when we got our gym memberships, I asked how early we could come, and they assured me that we can come very early. I asked, "Maybe six in the morning?" to which they laughed and said, "That's impossible. Eleven is the earliest." We seem to have a cultural misunderstanding of "early".

And, when I went to ask our landlady why the cleaning lady didn't stop by on Friday as promised, she said, "You want stuff cleaned? You have to give me a few days notice!" Hmm, it was the landlady who told us that the cleaning lady would be by on Friday.

Sometimes I don't get what goes on here.

Hogwash

My program director is back from the States, and we had a good long talk yesterday about obeying Egyptian work visa laws and trying to find out the name of the pretty girl in the pink hijab. You know when you should know someone's name, it's past the point of asking them?

Anyway, it really was a good conversation, but in it my director told me that I've got to stop going to the hospital by myself. Apparently having a fever that requires three hours of rest for every five minutes of movement is dangerous.

To which I reply:

"Pish posh."

We finally agreed that I have to tell someone when I go. Well, I did. Last time I told Tom, the English gentleman that stayed in my apartment for a day. Nothing like keeping the people closest to you in the know, right?

Yup.

So the big question on all of your minds must be: Tom, how are you writing this blog post? Aren't you supposed to be in Cairo?

Yes, yes I am.

I went to the train station, ticket in hand, ready to go to Cairo for Church, and the train pulled up a little short of the platform. No worries, the cars are all connected, we'll just get in the fifth one and make our way to the eighth one. That's what the other 150 people thought, too. I finally got to the door and the train started to pull away. No worries, I hear someone say that it's just pulling up and it will stop.

Nope.

It rolled away.

I haven't been to Church since I went to Dahab, so what is that, five or six weeks? Does this make me technically inactive?

We lift weights...

...to a recitation of the Quran.

Why?

Because we're hardcore.

And because that's what plays in the gym.

Ramadan Karim

Not going to lie, so far Ramadan has been not my favorite thing in the world.

All of my favorite restaurants (Abu Nagi's) are closed until 6PMish, and even then they don't serve all of the food that they normally serve. The medical lab was closed until 9PM. The dar is only open 'til 1PM. The doctor doesn't do nights anymore so I run out there in the afternoons now. It's hard to find a decently priced kosheri.

Also, who wants to be around people that are hungry and cigarette-deprived and thirsty while it's hot?

But.

Yesterday I was invited out to break the daily fast by Fadhila. I was at the doctor's office, he wasn't there, I'd waited a long time, and finally decided to just bag it. The Egyptian concept of being on time means showing up sometime, eh, when you feel like it. I skipped my doctor's appointment, jumped in a cab and raced home to meet up with Michael, and we then grabbed another cab to meet up with Fadhila and Youmna, and then Abdu came to pick us up and take us the thirty kilometers to his house.

It turned out to be a nine hour party, and the best meal that I've eaten since being here in Egypt. We had some very good conversation, and I love when everyone speaks the same two languages so you can mix them. I value speaking pure English and pure Portuguese after all of the Portingles that we spoke on the mission, but this was fun because Abdu is a Spanish man that's lived here for about twenty-five years. He speaks Spanish to his children and his wife Hanna speaks Arabic to them, and they all speak English. A fun mix for me.

Another fun thing: An Australian gentleman must have assumed that we were also Muslim because he started speaking negatively about Christians and very specifically about Latter-day Saints. I immediately told him I was a Latter-day Saint and helped him pull his foot out of his mouth, and then everyone questioned me a bunch, which was fun. No one gets the not drinking tea rule.

We left with Abdu Halim and Hadaya and Youmna, and were subsequently invited to their home today to break the fast. I'm excited.

A Conversation with Molly, edited

2:39 PM Mollysticks: oh and you asked about before the swim center

i went to stake auxiliary training this morning

took a little nap

and now i will be cleaning a little and studying

me: why did you go to the auxiliary training?

Mollysticks: for my lesson tomorrow and school

oh and i will be going to eat dinner with parker and lauren

i went to the relief society meeting

2:40 PM me: what is your rs calling?

Mollysticks: well im getting sustained tomorrow

me: can you tell me or no?

Mollysticks: as the president

me: haha

Mollysticks: eh, its pretty for sure

me: hahaha

Mollysticks: but not too many people know here

me: hahahahaha

Mollysticks: so just dont say anything

me: HAHAHAHAHAHA

2:41 PM you deserve it

that's what you get

it probably serves you right

and I hope you learn your lesson

Mollysticks: i think i will

me: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

2:42 PM I want you to know that after you're sustained I'm probably going to copy and paste this part of the chat onto my blog

Mollysticks: sometimes i think to myself and realize how not very nice you are at times

3:05 PM Mollysticks: eh

its fine

ill just go next saturday

well ill be out of town i think

me: go now

if you think you're busy now

just wait til later

Mollysticks: haha

i know!!!

me: and see how busy you'll be then

3:06 PM HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Mollysticks: stop laughing at me

you should support me

not laugh at me

3:07 PM me: i am supporting you

Mollysticks: by laughing?

me: no, i was just saying that, i'm really just laughing at you

Sixth in the series of The Hospital Lectures

Well, here we are again. I went to the pharmacy two days ago complaining of a fever, and they bent me over and stabbed me with a needle in the rear. That seems to be a common trend here. I didn't know that they could do that at pharmacies. You learn something new everyday. I immediately felt the fever breaking; man, those shots really work. It was a very fun trip limping back home and up the three flights of stairs. It was made even more fun by the fact that all of the little kids on my street know my name and were calling out, "Tom and Jerry! Tom and Jerry!" I blame Michael because he introduced me to one of them. Then it spread like fire.

Yesterday the drug wore off so I headed out to the hospital after languishing on my deathbed for hours. This hospital is exclusively for fever patients, and is literally named The Hospital of Fevers. I got there around 7:30PMish, and was seen pretty soon. By seen, I mean that I went for an examination where the nurse stuck something in my ear for less than a second, put her hand on my cheek, and pronounced that I had a fever while writing down a random number on my chart. That cost one Egyptian pound, or about eighteen cents. For only three more pounds they wanted me to get an analysis. Sure thing, except that because it's Ramadan the lab was closed until 9PM. Ramadan is kind of wearing on my patience, and I'm not even fasting. So I walked to another lab, and they were closed too. I came back and laid/sat/stood there for an hour and a half until the lab opened. Great, now the analysis is done, the doc prescribes me something, and I head back to the pharmacy. Now we're in business, right? Wrong. I ask the pharmacist what the pills are for, and he says for sore throat, etc., and basically lists a whole bunch of symptoms that I don't have. In the end I just downed some fever reducer and started feeling a million times better.

Who doesn't love going to the hospital?

Anyway, yesterday I was chatting with Molly and had to end it by telling her that I was too tired to type anymore, so I'm glad to be on my feet today. Good old fever reducer. The best part is that a pharmaceutical student that I know from the dorms was the one who prescribed it for me, via text message. Oh yeah.

It's a small Egypt

So, I'm sick again. Feels like the same fever as last time. In an effort to not write anymore in the series of The Hospital Lectures, I think I'm going to avoid the hospital and hit up a pharmacy later.

But, in other news, it's a small Egypt. In Dahab, I went out with some Egyptians to the beach at night to chill, and when I said that I'd been to Egypt last year, one of the guys asked me if several people surrounded me and threw me up in the air at a sports celebration. I confirmed that that actually did happen, and it turns out that he was in that circle of revelers. Crazy.

Also, Mohammad Wahaba looked for my blog and found another Tom In Egypt blog. He showed me, and I thought about looking at it later. Then today Tom from England that lives in Cairo comes to stay at my apartment to sort out his visa issues here in Alex, and he's none other than than the second Tom In Egypt. Small Egypt indeed.

I'll post his blog shortly. For now I think I am going to do mindless things so that my head might stop hurting. Wish me luck!

WHAT?!!

So I just realized that the Elizabeth that's following this blog is none other than Liz Spring! And she's teaching English in Cancun! What?!!! I've been trying to convince Liz to marry me for some time now, and this looks to be the shot. Teaching English in Egypt? Hmm? I know you want to.

Also, I'm in McDonalds using their wireless because mine is getting installed tonight, and they're blasting 3OH3's Don't Trust Me right now, I don't know if I could be more happy. Unless of course if I was at a Club Office listening to this. Man I want to have a dance party SO BAD. I went dancing once here, and it was fun, but it's Egypt and it's hot. All of you are invited in the winter when it cools down, it'll be Club Office Egypt Edition. Just get your tickets now, and plan for anywhere from November to January, it'll be a three month long party. You know how we do.

So in Dahab I met Tracy and Jim, an African-American girl and a Swedish guy. They each led a diving course of mine, and they're awesome people. Anyway, we saw their landlord all the time on the street, and he could never remember Tracy's name because he just called her, "My Color" (she's black). So I'd say, "I was at Tracy's house last night" and he wouldn't understand until I said, "I was at My Color's house last night". Hilarious. Once, he said goodbye to six of us, one at a time, "Goodbye", "See you later", whatever, until he got to Tracy and just nodded and said, "Color". Awesome.

Alright, more to come, hopefully I'll have wireless tonight.

Back in Alex

I'm back!

Dahab was great, but Alexandria was calling our names, so we came back earlier than planned, ready for more adventures. So I'll be posting stuff about Dahab as I remember it, and here's what I have for now:

I love diving. Not as much as some, but enough that I started and in about three weeks went from the Open Water course (the beginner course) through the Rescue Diver course. It's hard to describe how much fun rescue diving is, but I'll try. Basically, you manhandle people in the water. I went through various scenarios where people acted unconscious or like they were drowning. The best is when someone panics at the surface. They push back their mask, spit out their regulator, and commence to go nuts. So I have to try to calm them, and if they are too panicked, I pull my dump valves so all the air leaves my jacket and I sink. Then I swim underneath them, always trying to get behind them. After that, I rise and at the last meter I fill my jacket with air from the cylinder so that I shoot to the top and over them from behind them. I then grab their inflator and try to inflate them so they'll float before they grab at me and take off my mask or knock my reg out of my mouth. One time my buddy Mido actually got on me and pushed me under and held me there (pretty realistic of a drowning person who is panicking) so I had to find my reg underwater and dump my air again, and do it all over again. So much fun. Another fun one is where someone panics and tries to shoot to the top from an unsafe depth at an unsafe speed, and you have to grab onto them and do what it takes to slow them down. I was able to grab someone's deflator and hold it down so he couldn't inflate himself to the top, and when he calmed down we started to ascend. He then panicked again and I had to koala him and just hold onto him to slow him down before I could grab his deflator again. So basically being a rescue diver is like being an underwater ninja commando. There isn't a feeling like it in the world. However, I only have 12 dives under my belt, so I still have so much to do.

Oh, right, so I get back to Alex and the price of my room jumps from $5 a day to $12 a day, which is prohibitively expensive. I went to get my bags from Liz, and she tells me about a guy named Michael who is looking for a roommate. I call, and the next thing I know, I'm spending the night in my awesome new apartment that is going to cost me only $150 per month before utilities. That's Heavenly Father taking care of my needs before I even knew I had them. I love those kind of blessings. I have hot water, a washer, and we're getting internet. No A/C. but I needed a blanket last night and had to turn off the fan, so I'm not worried about that. And Michael's pretty cool and already knows the area really well, and I'm right on the tram line to school, so no more arguing with cab drivers to get to and from school.

Alright, more to come, and hopefully soon some pictures.

Dahab

To all of you who have written me, I will write you back when I get back to Alex. I have to pay for the internet by the hour here so I use it maybe once a week.

And it looks like I won't be making it back to Alex as soon as I thought. I just got a room for less than half the price I pay in Alex here in Dahab, so I will be here for a couple of weeks more, then back to school.

So, a teaser of things to come: I am a rescue diver, and as I'm currently writing this I feel like I'm swaying on a boat (from rescues from the surface). Also, I'll be writing about my travel companions, and I'll write about the people whom I've met here.

Also, remind me sometime in about ten months to tell you a funny story about Dahab, after the program is over to protect the innocent or otherwise.

Toodles.

The Language Barrier

We needed people to go see the Colored Canyon with us, so Robert told me to go talk some Japanese people into going. I spoke to them in English and we had a very difficult conversation when I heard some of them speaking Arabic. I asked one of them if he spoke Arabic, and it turned out that these "Japanese" people were Indonesians. The language barrier was gone in two seconds.

Then Robert starts talking to four Russian girls. One speaks broken English so she translates what we're saying to her friends, and the translation each way is garbled. It's another very difficult conversation, until Robert slipped and said an Arabic word and they giggled. I asked them if they spoke Arabic, and suddenly the language barrier was gone again for all of us.

Tourists that speak Arabic? What's up with that?

The Walk of Shame

We lost the Great Race.

We started with a bus from Alex to the Suez Canal. Left a little late, but no worries. We get there and get overcharged to take a taxi to the other side of town where we find a microbus to get us to Nuweiba. We argued with the drivers for an hour and a half to drop the price from 50LE to 30LE, then we drove for hours through the bumpy night. We were stopped seven times by the police to have a look at our passports and interrogate us. Interrogate means to joke around or ask us why we are in Egypt. It's really a crack security force.

We finally make it to Nuweiba and a guy that was on the bus told us to stay with him, he knew a place where his friend lived. This guy was probably about fifty, and he introduced us to his twenty-one year-old friend by saying, "This is my very best friend, I met him three months ago." We camped in the open and flies and mosquitoes bothered us the entire time. Salt water showers left my hair with the consistency of camel hair.

Like idiots we went to sleep and chose not to take the 6AM bus (it was around 4AM at this time) and upon arriving at the bus stop we found out that the 10AM bus wasn't coming. We jumped on an overpriced taxi and made it out to Dahab from Nuweiba several hours after the other group.

So we lost on time, but depending on various factors of our trip that are still under judicial scrutiny, we either won financially by an Egyptian pound or by five Egyptian pounds. We had an adventure and we made several friends and got important phone numbers.

But we still lost.

Favorite quote from the trip:
Robert: We should have left at 6AM. Then we could have gotten there first and won.
Laura: But what would we have done when we got there?
Robert: Won.

Also, I'm in Dahab now and I've snorkeled four times, swam, and I'm about to get my diving certification. We've met several awesome people and had an awesome time, and we're scheduled to be here for several weeks (traveling elsewhere, but Dahab as base camp).

It's a good life.

The Great Race

I'm off to Dahab tomorrow, but with a twist:

It's the Great Race!

Laura, Robert, and I are going to take a bus for 30LE to the Suez Canal and from there rely on our combined luck and our combined wits to get to Dahab.

Monica, Katlyn, Brent, and Jacob are going to Sharm al-Sheikh for 85LE and from there are going to catch something to get them to Dahab.

The trick is to get there first and to spend less money per person. We'll have a seven hour head start but their first destination is only an hour away from their last destination, while we have to catch a bus with three or four hours left in the journey, not knowing what times they leave and such.

Since my team was buying the tickets, I thought we should buy their tickets sitting them apart from each other, and putting one of them by the bathroom on the bus. We also toyed with the idea of buying their tickets for Sunday instead of Saturday, thus forcing them on the time issue, and also forcing them to spend an extra five dollars to spend the day in Alexandria. We laughed and discarded the idea, keeping the competition friendly.

Anyway, the hostel has only two rooms available, so we figure that the first team to get there wins the rooms as the prize.

Now I only wish there was a red flag at our hostel in Dahab that we could replace with a green one to prove that we were there. I guess we'll be the ones placing the flag for those to follow.

And I went to Cairo this morning and bugs ate my feet while I was on the microbus. Seriously. I probably have over forty bites per foot, I'm not sure if they were mosquitos or fleas. Miserable.

Nour Alby

So Nour is the Syrian that speaks English but not slang, and several posts down I mentioned teaching her some stuff. The other night someone said something to which I replied, "For serious?" and Nour asked, "Shizzle?"

Fo shizzle?

Fifth in the series of The Hospital Lectures

I went to Dr. Ahmed's office for an x-ray, so I waited for him for half an hour, and then went upstairs for the x-ray, then came downstairs to wait on him for another hour and a half.

While I was waiting, he spoke to several people, including one couple in particular. At one point he told all of the women to leave, and then closed the door and put a chair in front of it, thus leaving himself, myself, and a man I didn't know alone in the office. The man proceeds to strip down in front of me and point to various areas on his body where something is going wrong, with the doctor checking him out if front of me, nodding and grunting assent intermittently.

The man re-clothed, and Dr. Ahmed told me that I don't need another surgery as of yet, that I am medically fit to travel, and to come back in a month.

I left the hospital, hailed a cab, and proceeded to watch a car crash into another. I looked at my driver and said, "Praise be to Allah" and we took off.

Also, in two days I will be going to Dahab for at least three weeks, so updates will be after that.

Allahu Akbar.

The Great Train Heist

I went to Cairo this weekend with several friends, and we got to the train station and waited for our train. When the train pulled up at 6:15PM, we all heard an announcement saying that this train was the 5:30PM train and that they were running late. Too bad for us, we all heard it passively and didn't listen actively, so we could recall that we heard it later but we didn't heed it.

We all got on the train, and when I got to my seat there was someone in it. I showed him my ticket, and he told me that we weren't on the right train. We had to move through two cars to get to the platform, and people were still piling in behind us, so getting off was fun. Not everyone in our group understood what was happening so telling them to get off the train through two cars while the train started moving was kind of a trip. We finally jumped off a moving train (not as exciting as it sounds, since it was going maybe a mile per hour, but it was lurching to a stop with the train employee behind me yelling at us to move it and quickly the whole time). We remembered then that we weren't all in the same car, so we frantically called Valerie to tell her to get off, which was great since we didn't all have her number or credit to call her.

Now that we were all regrouped and happy with the success of our adventure, we drew quite a crowd of people that wanted to talk to the strange foreigners that were too dumb to listen to the announcement and got on the wrong train. One comment in particular that stood out was when a lady singled out Laura and told her several times that she's "pretty like honey". Then another train pulled up and some women pulled out their cell phones to take pictures of us. I smiled at them and they realized that I saw them and got really embarrassed and put their phones away. I told them to take pictures, that I was from Alexandria, and that inspired a whole new crowd to come and scrutinize me to see if my claim was true. They asked my name, and thinking quickly I said, "Mohammad". One of the little kids said, "Mohammad what?" so I said, "Mohammad Ibrahim". Upon being asked my last name, I said "Wahaba". So Mohammad Ibrahim and Mohammad Wahaba got the shout out. Convinced for the moment, the kids settled down, but an old lady still had doubts. She asked me for some of my water, so I handed her my bottle and she looked uncertain. She took a drink, then gave it back and told the crowd, "I just wanted to see if he would understand me." I eventually told them I was from America, that it was ok to take pictures of me, and our train finally showed up and took us to the middle of nowhere and stopped so we could watch cows, donkeys, and goats pass us.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again, you can't be an awesome adventurer like me if you don't go on adventures.

Fourth in the series of The Hospital Lectures

I had a surgery about three days ago. Nothing big, just a shock-wave surgery that breaks up kidney stones. I've done it before in Brasil, the difference being that they put me under in Brasil.

Two of my friends that study medicine went with me, Mohammad Wahaba and Mohammad Ibrahim. We went up to the surgery room, had a talk with the doctor, and then prepped.

I got onto the machine, we looked at the stone via X-ray, and then we started the procedure. The machine made a popping sound, and every time it popped it felt like someone was punching me in the kidney. Quickly sick to my stomach, I asked for the painkiller. The docs told me that they hadn't started yet. I knew they were lying of course, and re-asked. They told me that it was just the sound of the machine. I re-asked, and then they stopped for a bit and asked if I had the 1000LE that the procedure cost. I gave it to them right there in the middle of the surgery, and we started again. A nurse shot me full of painkiller and the ceiling started to move. I couldn't speak correctly for a while, but I mumbled enough to let them know that I wanted Wahaba and Ibrahim to come watch.

They didn't want to leave my director sitting by herself, so Ibrahim came in first and then Wahaba, and after about 4000 shocks the docs told me that they got half the stone but that I had reached the maximum amount of radiation for the day and I had to come back later.

Who's excited for Round 2?

Me.

Second in the series of Egyptian Decorum

A quote I found on Melissa Jensen's Facebook:

"I don't understand how a woman can leave the house without fixing herself up a little - if only out of politeness. And then, you never know, maybe that's the day she has a date with destiny. And it's best to be as pretty as possible for destiny."
-Coco Chanel

The Egyptians have this down pat. And not just the girls, mind you. Every time one of my guy friends leaves the house they get dressed up and put on the cologne and such. They could be going to an important school function, a party, or the grocery store. It doesn't matter.

I, on the other hand, generally wear cargo pants and a t-shirt. I think the only time I've worn these cargo pants in the states is when I tried them on, and when I was in the airport. Here, though, I am comforted by having everything on me that may be necessary in an emergency. Hence, lots of pockets.

The Egyptians must think I'm a slob.

Stuck in a rut

You can't be an amazing adventurer like me if you don't go on adventures, so I decided to skip the train to Cairo and try the microbus instead. Not all of my adventures are as dangerous or fun as the midnight body-surfing, or the midnight horseback-riding-camping-hiking-dog-landfill-pyramids adventures. Sometimes they're adventures because nine-year-old children are more competent on the street here than I am. Sometimes to have an adventure you just need to come to Egypt and not know anything. Which isn't that hard to do.

So I asked around to find the bus to get to the big bus stop. Only after waiting for forty minutes I found out that it was the only bus that didn't stop as it came by, so I had to wave it down. Ok.

I get off at the big bus stop and get onto the larger bus after crowding the ticket "line" (there are no lines here, just pushing people). So far so good. So good, that is, until we hit Cairo city limits. Of course my adventure couldn't have gone without a hitch, so the bus broke down. We waited and another bus came, just in time for us to find out that a lady's bag was missing. So that was nice, because she spent the next half hour or so yelling about it. Very pleasant.

I jump off after awhile where a kind man tells me to and walk for twenty minutes to the train station. Everybody knows where it is so they all help me get there. And boy did I need the help. Here's a map of downtown Cairo:



Of course several people gave me wrong directions, but that's normal. If you don't know when someone asks you, you can't leave them hanging, so just make something up. That seems to be the attitude.

After I get to the station I hop on the metro and make it down to the Maadi stop, where I get off and find a taxi. We argue the entire way over the difference in price of about eighteen cents, but I was thinking in Egyptian pounds at the time. It was a lively, good-natured argument with lots of references to Allah and each of our gentlemanliness.

I get to my destination, and instead of the normal 37LE and three or four hours, it took 33LE and five and a half hours. So, you know, I saved a little money. Like seventy-two cents. To take an hour and a half longer. I think there's a better way. I'll find it next time. Better than a microbus, big bus, another big bus, metro, and cab.

Coming back was a little easier, just a cab, the metro, a microbus, then another cab. It was a little difficult getting off the last microbus since about twenty men wanted to get on it. They rushed it and I heard audible thumps as they hit it and held on. Getting through that crowd was a trip. It was in all 31LE on the way back, instead of the normal 35LE. Another seventy-two cents saved.

Gavin would be so proud.

Night is a world lit by itself. --Antonio Porchia

I forgot in my Sharm al-Sheikh post to mention that on top of Mt. Sinai we saw several planets and shooting stars, and even a satellite or two. It is the first time I can remember seeing an orbiting artificial satellite with the naked eye.

How awesome is that?

Also, the carved steps in Mt. Sinai are called "The Steps of Repentance". What an appropriate name.

Egyptian Decorum

At the doctor's office, one man wrote a report about my kidney stones, describing the horrors he saw on the x-ray and ultrasound. At the end of his report, he signed:

Best wishes,
Dr. Amr Yousri



Again at the hospital, I asked about sleep apnea and they sent me to a different section for an exam. The doctor wrote a referral saying:

A case of obstructive sleep apnea please for your kind care. Karim



It's the simple things in life you treasure.

The Forrest Gump Run

I wonder if any of you use my RSS feed to read these posts in Google Reader, or something similar.

If that's the case, and you're not a "follower" of my blog, please go to the actual blog and click on the option on the right to "follow" my blog.

Basically, I'm about to go to the hospital again and when I get back it would cheer me up to see people walking along this lonely road with me.

You're the best.

Third in the series of The Hospital Lectures

This morning I noticed the symptoms of kidney stones again, in a strong way, so I went to the hospital. They juiced me up with buscopan from an IV just like in Brasil, and sent me home.

I should note that there was practically a party in my room with all of the nurses coming by to see the American. The second time I went, a nurse felt the need to stand there and make fun of my Arabic the entire time. I think I may have been inadvertently rude to her.

Anyway, I get home, and I crashed for several hours, and upon waking up I noticed that I felt like I had been hit by a train. So Mohammad Wahaba, an awesome friend of mine here, took me back to the hospital. After much grumpiness about not wanting another IV, the nurse took me into the back room and bent me over and stuck two needles in my rear, then sent me on my merry.

I can't wait to go back.

Price check on aisle four, price check on aisle four

I went to a tiny grocery store (it fits about three or four people) and asked how much the detergent costs. The man answered in Arabic, "Nine pounds if Allah wills it".

Well maybe He doesn't. Maybe He wills only eight pounds. I mean, now there's doubt. Right?

Scared to Death

While at a rest stop on the way back from Sharm al-Sheikh, I was chatting with Nour and Miim-Yaa when Miim-Yaa gasped and pointed at the ground behind Nour and I. Both Nour and I jumped, and turning, we expected a cockroach, a scorpion, a snake, something unpleasant.

But no.

It was a kitten. She gasped like death was on it's way because of a cute, cuddly kitten, thus almost sending Nour and I to our graves on account of a heart attack.

It was a very keyed up trip back home after that.

Fo shizzle my nizzle

We went to Sharm al-Sheikh this weekend to climb Mt. Sinai and go snorkeling. To get there we rode a bus for 12 hours, doing everything the third or fourth best way (going the long way, stopping at a fly-infested zoo so that the bus could fill up with flies, getting off the bus at the end only to get back on in order to drive fifty more feet).

When we climbed Mt. Sinai, I hadn't slept for twenty four hours. I hadn't eaten in a long time, and I didn't have enough water. It's a three-hour or so hike, but a couple of us did it in about two hours, so we were moving pretty fast. The higher we got the colder it got, and I gave Katlyn cause for concern when I started staggering near the summit. Just a combination of exhaustion with lack of oxygen. She lent me her small long-sleeve shirt (which made me look huge, yeah) to keep me from freezing to death up there. A group of us made it though, and huddled together to stay warm until we could watch the sun rise. Very fun times.

Snorkeling in the Red Sea was also fun. I've been out to Ras Mohammad before, but this time I went off a boat and saw a manta ray, which was really cool. There were speakers on the boat so we could dance, and someone put on "I'm on a boat" by Adam Samberg and T-Pain, which was appropriate (in an unedited inappropriate way).

I got really sick the night before we left, it was just my turn I guess, so the twelve hours back was miserable. Luckily for me though I got to sit next to Nour, who knows Levantine Arabic, French, and English, but doesn't know English slang. I taught her some common terms, and she asked me, "What does 'junk in the trunk' mean?" Hilarious. Someone else had already taught her "fo sho" which was hilarious, just imagine someone speaking fluent English but confused when people say things like "Get up out of my grill". Very fun.

My favorite was when she asked, "What does 'shizzle' mean?"