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?"

Friends in Egypt

Oh. My. Goodness.

We all have to meet with Language Partners so we can be assured of speaking Arabic at least four hours a week. I met with mine for the first time today, and he was very happy to meet me.

A little too happy.

In fact, he was so happy that he said we can be best friends, like brothers. He then said that we could be like one person.

One person.

We went to a cafe to talk, and he told me to call him anytime that I'm free, that we're not just language partners, but friends, and we don't need only four hours a week. After the cafe, we walked along the beach and he wanted to walk arm-in-arm. I told him that that's strange to me and we don't do that in my country. Wanting to get away, I told him that I was heading back to the school to meet a friend in order to catch a ride home.

We went back and I thought I gave him the slip, but a while later I ran into him again. Turns out his mom works at the school, so he was still with her. My friend was still with his language partner, so I had to try and escape. Thinking quickly, I asked if anyone had seen my friend, and we all started looking. That split us up and I got away.

On a side note, best taxi ride to school and back EVER today. To get there, the driver went crazy down back streets and all sorts of unheard of ways, so we got there really fast and he didn't argue about the price with us. On the way back, we got the taxi in the middle of the road. Another driver yelled at our driver for stopping in the middle of the road and sped off. We caught up to him at a light and the two drivers commenced screaming at each other, all the while I'm sitting in the middle of them (in the front seat). It was kind of uncomfortable. The rest of the way home we chatted our driver up, and my buddy was willing to pay a little more so that we didn't have to fight with him. Fight might not have been the word that he used, though.

Egypt is hilarious fun sometimes.

Second in the series of The Hospital Lectures

At the same visit as the earlier post, I was awaiting diagnosis in the doctor's office, away from the examination rooms. While there, a man came in and sat down with me, and several nurses and workers came in and out to talk to the doctor, and the phone rang the entire time and he answered it every time it rang. So it was pretty hectic, but I was missing class so the longer it took, the better.

So the man that came in and sat down had his blood work done right there in front of me and then he and the doctor got into a shouting match. They tried to yell each other down, and then each answered their phones in the middle of the argument while the other one kept right on yelling. Suddenly the doctor turned to me and prescribed the medicine without having resolved the yelling match.

I then wished peace upon both of them and made a hasty retreat.

First in the series of The Hospital Lectures

So Molly here's where I'm going to cut and paste from my letter to you into my blog: I went to the hospital today for an x-ray to determine whether the pain I've been feeling lately is kidney stone related. I went yesterday and the doc prescribed something for inflammation but I insisted on an x-ray so he humored me. After the x-ray the doc took me a little more seriously because they found a kidney stone right away. They sent me down for an ultrasound and a urinalysis. They found two more kidney stones and sent me back to the doc. He prescribed some medicine, and I'll see him again in two weeks.

But that's not the story.

The story is that for the urinalysis I went into the restroom and found that the toilet wouldn't flush. In the hospital. Then, when I tried to wash my hands, there wasn't any soap. In the hospital. So I thought, "I'll just wash with water", and I reached out and broke the metal handle off of the faucet with my hand. In the hospital.

Lucky for me I had plenty of alcohol hand sanitizer that I used liberally today.

Three broken ATMs, long walks, and a taxi ride later, I have the medicine he prescribed. I can't wait to go back.

Wouldn't you know...

I've been to Egypt before. I lived here for two months last summer. My program took me to all of the usual tourist places, and some that weren't so usual.

At pretty much every place, it cost less for Egyptians to do things than Americans or Europeans. I don't just mean that cabs are more expensive (they are), but I mean that the sign at the pyramids reads that Egyptians pay an Egyptian pound, Americans pay fifty, and Europeans pay sixty. Those numbers are just off the top of my head, but you get the picture. To see the mummy exhibit in the Cairo Museum costs Egyptians only a pound, and anyone else one hundred pounds. Seriously.

So last night I went to the local train station to buy tickets to Cairo, and the price I paid last year was nearly doubled this year. I couldn't believe it, but I need to go so I paid for the tickets. I got home and one of the dorm supervisors saw us walking in with our tickets and yelled at us, "How many times do I have to tell you? If you are a foreign student, the tickets are half off!"

For reals?