Hormonal Option Transition

First published February 17, 2009

For those new to these notes, I have to give you a little background. My family and I recently moved to Cairo, Egypt to learn Arabic. Preparing for this move required hundreds of hours and thousands of details. We tried to organize as much as we could to make the transition as smooth as possible.

We looked through our home and packed some things and sold others. Each item had to be sorted and with the help of some fabulous friends, it was accomplished. While we packed we kept our house at its usual temperature...around 67 degrees. We live in Missouri and weather is as unpredictable as the current stock market. No matter the atmosphere outside, the M home was always a perfect cave temperature.

I hate to sweat...for any reason. Add humidity to that and well...it's just not pretty. I thought it rather humorous that as we were considering living abroad that Africa would be dropped into our hearts. They only have 3 temperatures there...hot, hotter still and brain-searing. I couldn't see how this was going to work, but I went willingly personal fan and extra batteries in tow.

We gratefully arrived in Cairo, Egypt in January...their winter. The temperature in the mornings could be as cool as 50 degrees. By afternoon the temperature will climb to 80. Egyptians walk the streets with turtlenecks and puffy ski jackets. I have a long-sleeved shirt more for culture than for warmth.

A ride on the subway made me start to worry. It was later in the afternoon. I was standing on the train holding the little loop above my head and began scanning the crowd. They all had coats on and the windows up. I had little beads of sweat trickling down the side of my face. I thought, "This is the beginning of the end."

I am sweating in winter. Summer can only result in some form of spontaneous combustion and finding me as a pile of powder somewhere. So I got to thinking...what if our superiors created a Hormonal Option Transition (H.O.T.).

This is how it would work...

Women over the age of 40 (some in their late 30s could receive special permission on a case by case basis) would be exchanged to locations in the world that have a temperature of no higher than 69 degrees. Those that are younger, male or super skinny could take their places until their home countries experience the cool season again.

I'm asking that this policy be fast-tracked. Summer is coming. Think of all the sweaty, angry women around the world just trying to keep themselves from showing up on the government radar as nuclear material. World peace is at stake, gentlemen. Think about it as you make your decision.

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.