You Gotta Have Friends

First published February 15, 2009

Dear friends of ours arrived today for exactly 9.5 hours. They had a layover in Cairo and shared their time with us. We began hatching a plan of fun and excitement using all of our skills that a One Month in Residence Family had to offer. First, we would drive them straight to a good coffee shop. We knew just the one. It's a few blocks from our house.

I guess since our arrival I've become accustomed already to the cars, donkeys, motorcycles and pedestrians all trying to share the road. We led the way and helped them weave their way to our destination.

We sipped Diet Bepsis. (That's not a typo. There is no "p" sound in Arabic. All "p"s become "b"s. So Pepsi become Bepsi and yes, Pam becomes Bam or Ham depending on the dialect--not flattering either way.) Our food of paninis, croissants and chocolate cake arrived. We were celebrating a birthday so we were pulling out all the stops.

We laughed and sipped and ate and for the first time in several days, we were just normal people having a normal moment. It was refreshing. We still had several hours so we had to pace ourselves. This was a progressive meal. They couldn't get a lot of the food that Cairo offers so we were trying to hit all the good spots while they were with us.

After breakfast we caught a taxi to the other side of the city. Our friends requested that we go to a popular store called, "Carre Four." This is like a Wal-Mart SuperCenter. We couldn't all fit in one taxi so John hailed 2 of them and told both the drivers what the plan was. The drivers took off with women in one car and the men in the other. Our driver began yelling something to the other driver. The other driver was ahead of us and was obviously not hearing him. We didn't speak Arabic so obviously we weren't understanding him.

Our driver followed closely behind and then whipped along side the lead taxi and began shouting again. The lead taxi yelled back, waved his arms and kept pace with our taxi. They continued back and forth until our driver conceded and fell back behind him. He rubbed his head and kept muttering.

We finally arrived at our destination and thanked both the drivers. Our guests got the deluxe treatment--close calls and yelling car to car. What I didn't realize is that my friend understood what our driver was saying. He was telling the other driver that he was taking a route that was too busy. He also told him that his brain must be tired because he's not choosing the right streets. I like being on the inside of these discussions.

The women led the way to this shopping extravaganza. The men said they were leaving us to go look at tools. We agreed to meet back together in 30 minutes. They were back after 10. Men. My friend looked at me and said, "Can you believe we're all here together in Cairo?! This could be like a day at Wal-Mart in Springfield."

"I know," I said, "Weird and awesome at the same time. I have to keep reminding myself that I really am LIVING in Africa."

To increase the thrill of the day, we offered to take our friends on the subway back to our flat. They were up for it so Emileigh went to purchase our tickets. She distributed them and then told us she would meet us at the next platform because she wanted to go visit with the women on the "women's only" train.

We rode without incident the first leg, but still marveled at the coats and sweaters being worn in 80 degree weather. I personally was melting. Summer is going to be VERY ugly, but I digress. The second leg we caught up with Emileigh made sure she was fine and were ready to board the next train. Emileigh and Aria left us to go to the women's train while the remaining four were taking our position to step into the car for that magic 30 second loading door it provides. Just as I was stepping in, a college age girl stepped in also. As she did she poked her hand into my purse very quickly and subtly. I very quickly and NOT subtly grasped her by the wrist and flung her hand down at her side. She took her place on the train and acted like nothing happened.

I was proud of myself at that moment because I had ninja-like reflexes and gave her a look that said, "You don't wanna mess with me, girlie." I'm sure her knees turned to jell-o.

My friend commended my bravery. I told her that this was the first time anything like that happened. It's not unique to this culture. Any big city anywhere would have things like this. So I chalked it up to another experience.

The rest of the ride was uneventful and we regrouped for rest and water at the flat. We had one more stop to make before they needed to get back to the airport. This was the all-important search for a hamburger that really tasted like a hamburger. I've purchased hamburger (or rather "beefburger" because "hamburger" has the word "ham" in it and that refers to pork which is a no-no so don't use that word...) at the grocery store, but it comes already seasoned with cumin and cinnamon. Try it sometime, just don't add taco seasoning to it like I did for dinner last week.

Anyway, we had researched and discovered that Fuddrucker's World's Greatest Hamburgers has a restaurant in our neighborhood. (This could be VERY dangerous.) So we took 2 more taxis to the restaurant. Again, our drivers did not agree on the chosen route and yelling ensued some more. Miraculously, they arrived at the restaurant and we piled out. John got the business card of his driver who said he would drink coffee with him and help him practice Arabic. The driver wanted to learn English so it's a win-win.

I don't get offers like that. It's rude to talk to women in such a familiar way. So I tell them what address to take me to and our conversation ends there. I'll have to seek out other measures.

We walked into Fuddrucker's and listened to American 80s music while choosing the perfect burger. We savored our food, but mostly the conversation that comes from having deep, trusted friendships.

The day ended too soon, but we joked and said, "We should do this again real soon." The fact is...they will be coming back through Cairo at the end of the week and we'll get to see them again. How awesome! It's great to exhale and just be with friends that make you laugh and encourage your heart. Friends...you gotta have 'em. A good hamburger is a close second.

Bleckkkkkkkkkkkkkkh!

First published January 28, 2009

I guess I knew it was coming. Everyone warned me about it. I even have books that will help me navigate these new waters of emotions. Fancy books that have titles, sub-titles and italicized words that help define the feelings of the newly transplanted person. 

I've been keeping a mental checklist wondering, "Does this feel normal?" "Is this right?" "Am I plain nuts?" And so it goes. My friends have been checking in with me making sure that I'm transitioning okay. Truthfully, I am. I mean so far. It's only been 3 weeks, so I don't think that "I must be on vacation" feeling has left yet. 

I could tell a shift was coming when I needed to go to the store and pick up some bottles of water. I thought to myself, "Bleckkkkkkh! I don't want to have to go and get stupid water. I want the water in the faucet to be drinkable. I want the stupid faucet on the stupid sink not to leak. I want the stupid sink not to be in such a tiny, stupid kitchen." 

Whoooooaaaaa! Where did that come from? I paused and pondered. I think this is culture shock. Well, actually the part of culture shock that comes after the "shock" wears off. (Severe statements and unreasonable anger were under the "normal" category in one of those very fancy books.)

Okay. Now we're getting somewhere. I said a prayer and adjusted my very poor attitude. Yes, I still need to get water, but Egyptians here need water every day, too. They look to replenish their thirst and only come home with more bottles of clear liquid. We are here to give them what they need. So that means I need to get outside the apartment, learn the language, buy some water and build relationships. Maybe as we share bottles of water, very soon we will exchange truth about Living Water. Lord, let it be so.