My Dream Man

جل أحلامي   
حبيبي مثل الألوان
هو أسود مثل الصحراء السوداء
هو أزرق مثل المحيط المظلم
هو بنفسجي مثل ملابس الملك
هو ذهبي مثل شاطئ البحر الأبيض
هو أصفر مثل نور الشمس
هو أبيض مثل أخلاق قلبي
هو أخضر مثل الأشجار تلعب في الريح
هو زهري مثل حبي
هو رمادي مثل القمر خلال الليل ينيرني

CLS Cairo: Man of my Dreams, a poem By: Sarah Kaiser -Cross

Thank you Google Translate- I think the Google Translated version is way better but in parenthesis was what I actually meant. This was another homework assignment. I had a tough time with this one. What exactly is my dream man? I couldn't conceptualize this concept.

My love[r] is like all the colors.
He is as black as the Sahara dunes
He is like the darkest blue of the ocean.
Purple is clothing, such as King (He is like the purple clothes of a king)
Is a golden beach such as the Mediterranean (He is golden like the shores of the Mediterranean)
Yellow is like sunlight (He like my yellow sunshine)
Morality is as white as my heart (He is white like the innocence of my heart)
Is green, such as trees play in the wind (He is like the green trees that play in the wind)
Zuhri is like love (He is pink like love)
Is gray like the moon during the night Inerni (He is gray like the moonlight that illuminates my nights)

The Camel Market

About a 45 minute ride from central Cairo into the boonies, we took a cab out to the Camel Market, known in Arabic as Souq Gamal or Birqash at 7:30 when Cairo still waking up. Fridays are quiet and our drive was free of traffic but full of sights of agricultural fields including tall grass near the banks of the Nile with heads poking up every now and again as people worked in the fields to fill their large brown sacks with fresh crops. Turquoise and yellow painted brick buildings scattered the countryside with fresh laundry hung from the windows, fields of cacti growing the famous prickly pear fruit and the burning of unknown things in the distance. Butchers stood alongside their shops hacking up their freshest purchase and women wandered about mostly preparing for the weekend. When we finally arrived at the edge of the Souq (market) we were overwhelmed. The road leading up to it is full of steaming, and sometimes burning piles of garbage- the result of the systematic killing of all the pigs in Cairo during the Swine Flu outbreaks. When I saw the camel carcasses, I knew I was in for something not...pleasant. It wasn't exactly a welcome sight.
We entered the market at the big gap in the wall along with camels that were going to be loaded up in cars. We had to pay 25 LE for our "Tourist Tackets"but we were able to walk around freely without hassle. We were the only girls there, including the camels--they only sell male camels at this market. There was a huge display table full of scary looking sharp knives and daggers for sale and I was so distracted by my proximity to them when I looked up, I was almost trampled by a camel! There were thousands of camels being herded around by their sellers. There were numbers spray painted on their humps designating their owner and when they were sold. The saddest part of all (and it was really sad) was the beating of the animals. The men have huge thick wooden sticks that they use to beat the heck out of the animals in order to 'show off how they move.' The sound was like the loud thump of beating a rug...it was so unnatural. There were quite a few times I had to turn away. Animal rights activists would not be able to handle it there. The men stood in large groups all watching the camels and bargaining with each other shouting out prices.
We stood and watched them and Kareem, Brittany and I started asking the men questions. I couldn't help it! I was so darn curious. They were surprised we all spoke Arabic and began chatting away with us. We found out the camels come by boat up from the River Nile over a 40 day journey from Sudan, Somalia and Aswan. The ones sold at this market are usually for food; camel milk and camel meat. The going rate? 4,000LE for the baby camels and the most expensive large camel reached up to 20,000LE ($3,400). They began to tell us in the United Arab Emirates the camels can go for up to 60,000LE because there is a camel racing scene with 7 and 8 year old jockeys for these huge camels. You would be shocked how fast camels can run. Because of this the sellers at the camel market tie up one of the camel legs and yet they somehow still get loose and throngs of people part to not be trampled to death by stampeding camels. It was a crazy experience to say the least.

Egyptian Women vs. American Women

الاختلافات بين النساء الأمريكية  و النساء المصرية

الاختلافات بدأت عندما ولدت و تعلمت الثاقافة. في أمريكا النساء يدرسن أنّ مسلويات لرجل و في مصر النساء يدرسن أْنّ النساء و الرّجل مختلفون بطبيعتهم و النساء يسطعن أن يفعلن الأشياء المناسبة من الناحية الثقافية. ادوار الجنسين هذه تحدد الكثير من الثاقافة. ادوار الجنسين هذه تتقوي خلال الطفولة و سنوات المراهقة. عن طريق الوالدين و الإعلام و المدرسة و التلفزيون. عادة حوالي في سن ١٣ او ١٤ البنات يبدأن أن يجلسن الحجاب لواحد من ثلاثة أسباب:
١. أفكار دينية
٢. الوالدار و كيف يرون الثاقافة
٣. لتجنّب تحرّش لفطى
التحرّش  يزيد بأمثلة البنات اللاتي ليسن يلبسن الحجاب لأنّهم يتعرضن لالمضايقة أكثر. في أمريكا في حوالي نفس السن ١٣ او ١٤ البنات يبدأن يفهمن أنوثتهن. هناك تركيز مختلف و في أمريكا هو النشاط  الجنس و في مصر هناك تقليل في هذا النشاط الجنسي. بالإضافة إلى هذه القضايا- فرص العمل مهمة جداٍٍ. في أمريكا، تشجع النساء يسطعن أن علي أن يتولين زمام لمور مستقبلهم. النساء يسطعن أن يكن في أي عمل يريدن. لكن في مصر هناك حدود. يعملن في وظيفة مناسبة فقط. لكن في الحقيقة هناك "السقف الزجاجي" هذا موجود في المكانين. كذلك  في مصر عدد ربات المنازل أكثر من أمريكا. هنا تقع على النساء مسوءولية البيت و الرخال يدفعون لكل شيئ. في واللية المتحدة الأمريكية هناك مساواة في الدخل و النساء يعملن في أي وظيفة بسبب حركة حقوق المرأة.
فما هي النتيجة؟ نساء مصر يعتمدن على أزواجهن أكثر من أمريكا. فما هو أي طريق أفضل؟ أنا لا أعرف لأنّ الآفضل لشخص يمكن أن يكون الأسوأ لآخر. ممكن في المستقبل لن يكون هناك فرق كبير...

Translation: (This was my homework assignment last week so I thought I'd share it with all of you! Translations aren't always perfect but I tried my best to capture the main themes)

The differences between American and Egyptian women

The differences begin in the beginning when women are born and learn the culture. In America, the women learn that women are equal to men and in Egypt women are taught that women and men are inherently different and that women are able to do the things only that are appropriate within their cultural boundaries. These gender roles are supported mostly through cultural outlets. These gender roles are strengthened through childhood and the teenage years by parents, the media, school and television.
Usually around the age of 13 or 14 the girls begin to wear a hijab for one of three reasons. First, because of religious preference. Second, because of her parents and how their view cultural standards. Third, because they want to avoid sexual harassment. The problem of sexual harassment is reinforced through negative examples. Girls that aren't wearing hijabs are harassed more and therefore the girls wearing the hijabs  are discouraged from changing this practice.
In America, around usually the same age girls begin to understand their sexuality and femininity. There is a very different focus. In America there is almost a promotion of understanding individual sexuality where as in Egypt there is a significant attempt to lessen this awareness and promotion of sexuality. In addition to this, there are other important issues- such as work opportunites.  In the States, women are encouraged to take charge of their futures and the women are able to do whatever job they want. (if they work hard enough.) But, in Egypt there are barriers. Women work in "appropriate" positions only. But, in reality, a glass ceiling exists in both places, just in different ways. Also in Egypt the number of house wives is far greater than in America. Here, in Egypt, the responsibilities of the house fall on the woman and the men pay for everything. In America there is generally an equality of income and women are able to work in whichever field they desire because of the results of the Women's Rights Movement. What is the result? Egyptian women are much more dependent on their husbands to provide for them then women in America. So, which is the better way? I don't know. Different things work differently for different people but maybe in the future there won't be such a huge difference.
-سارة(Sarah)

[Reason for the basic vocabulary- that is basically my level right now in Arabic at least on an everyday basis. In Shah Allah, my Arabic will improve more and more but I translated the English as close to the actual Arabic meaning as possible.] I can't wait for your responses!

3,750 Steps of Repentance

We started climbing Sinai at 2am- the normal time in order to get to the top before sunrise. I successfully convinced 10 people from my group that taking the 3,750 Steps of Repentance over two mountains was way cooler than taking the lazy camel path.These steps were laid by a monk in repentance for a sin he committed. You climb this pathway (this is only part of it) for about an hour straight up over the mountain until you reach the archway- the sign of the halfway point. Climbing in darkness is an adventure in and of itself. Treacherous, difficult and beautiful, this hike took us into a part of the mountain where the view of the stars is like staring into the heart of the universe. Everything shines as bright with constellations scattered throughout the night sky- the only sound you hear is the sound of your own breath trying to catch up before continuing up the stairs. Quiet a workout out, a couple people in our group got dizzy and had to turn around and go back down. But the rest of us finished the hike together though we could hardly feel our quadriceps. We reached the top and settled in for a wait before the throngs of people arrived from the Camel Path. We made it to the top around 4am and the sun wasn't supposed to rise until 5:45. Luckily we had some good music, warm clothes and an amazing view of the surrounding peaks. Misty and windy, sitting on top of Mt. Sinai felt...well, a little touristy. There were so many people, less than the last time I was there, but I didn't feel the spiritual connection I expected the second time around. The sun actually didn't rise in front of us, but rather was obscured by sand storms in the region scattering the light particles. It was kind of a bummer but the sun finally make its grand appearance around 6am. There was no show of colors but rather a sudden appearance of a white shining ball. I have never been able to see the sun so clearly, nor that white before. We made our way down in the day light. All the old people tourists were taking their sweet time walking down the stairs, quite understandably. But unfortunately for them, I didn't have a lot of patience because I determined to make it down to the monastery to lay down, shower and relax before breakfast. No such luck. Even descending quickly, passing everyone in my group, I made it down only 15 minutes before breakfast. I ended up running into an old friend in the monastery from the American University in Cairo. I also got a chance to revisit the burning bush and enter the relics museum at the Monastery. While the relics were impressive and the paintings and decorations well preserved, I was more focused at reading the inscriptions/descriptions of the pieces first in Arabic and then in English to check my comprehension. I thought it was the coolest thing.

The Monastery

I decided to go and explore the areas around the monastery so I grabbed my notebook, my sunglasses, some water and hiked up the rocky hills next to the monastery. In flip flops, I made my way up the side of the mountainous area surrounding the high walls of the monastery. I traveled up high enough to get a beautiful panoramic shot of the monastery and snuggled myself into a crevice between two rocks taking in the atmosphere, the blessed silence and the beauty of the mountain. The silence offered such a stark contrast to the chaos and constant drum of noise in Cairo. I was moved.
I thought I would share with you all a nice poem. It's called Sinai. Author Unknown.
Boulders looming above and below
emitting but a muted glow
The mount where it all began
Where God layed down his plan for man.
The ten things we must know
the Commandments which create the flow
The holiness inherent in this place
arose from the very base.
Sitting and journalling in while birds swooped over the monastery and butterflies danced in the wind I counted my blessings and rested so I would be able to wake up and be ready to climb the mountain at 2am.

Arrival to Mt. Sinai

Taking a required trip to Mt. Sinai was part of our program this past weekend. Leaving on a friday morning early we journeyed the six or so hours to Mt. Sinai. We passed through the busy morning traffic bustling all the way till we hit the very outskirts of Cairo. We went through the tunnel under the Suez Canal originally built by the British and further on, wistfully passing the sparkling blue waters of the Red Sea into the desert of rolling sand hills, sparse palm trees and rocky mountains with the altitude slowly climbing the further into Sinai we went. Upon arrival we received our keys and headed to our rooms to drop off our things and explore the monastery of St. Katherine and the surrounding area. Simplicity was the theme of the hostel in the monastery which fit perfectly with the lifestyle of the monks and the simply breathtaking landscape. St. Katherine's monastery, the oldest in Africa and the oldest working monastery in the world, it sits at the base of Mt. Sinai in a kind of valley and surrounded by walls to keep out unwanted visitors or dangers. It reminded me of the castles and fortifications of ancient times. We ate a delicious dinner together and I celebrated Shabbat on my own with a candle as the sun set behind the mountain. My friend Maggie was interested in watching me say the prayers so she came with me and we both said a silent prayer of thanks and gratitude that night. How lucky am I to be here for free all the meanwhile speaking Arabic?

My Experience in a Hijab.

I finally decided to see what all the fuss was about. Egyptian men swear Egyptian women get harassed just as much if not more than foreign women. I didn't buy it. The one thing I hate here is the amount of harassment. It is endlessly frustrating. I decided I was going to fully cover myself and try wearing a hijab to see the differences. I wanted to see the difference in social interactions, the amount of attention and harassment. Maggie, Jamie and Raina decided to tag along. We decided on a having a typical night: metro ride to a different district, dinner, walking around, shopping and returning home. The only difference this time was wearing hijabs. We talked with our adviser Randa about it, who always looks perfect in her hijab, matching colors and perfectly wrapped. She was excited to see what happened as well and helped us pin them correctly- though we each chose different styles. I prefer the double wrap with two different scarves, one kind of see-through in order to see the plain style underneath. There are tons of websites on Hijabi fashion too. (http://www.2hijab.com/ is one some of my friends look at)
Randa showed us the different ways of pinning them to frame your face and tuck your hair back, and then we were off. We made a pact to only speak Arabic throughout the night. We chose to head to Dokki which is a fun family district decently close to the middle of the city. Walking through the hotel some of the workers recognized me and exclaimed 'ah! you are even more beautiful in a hijab!' I wasn't sure if I thought that was a compliment or not.
The moment I hit the street I there was a difference. To my surprise, it was actually quite nice. We walked toward the metro but this time without whistles, hisses and glances in our direction. We blended into the daily grind with everyone rushing to and fro. People asked us questions automatically in Arabic and then only afterward were surprised by our accents. I suppose the assumption was even though we still are clearly not Egyptian, our hijabs suggested we were Muslim which generally means Arabic speakers. We still received a few, where are you from questions. But all in all the attention must have decreased by at least seventy percent. Walking in the streets you could tell people were a bit curious, but there were significantly fewer vocalized thoughts. Dinner was a breeze. We were given Arabic menus without asking and spoke in Arabic the entire time. It was a huge moral boost to realize that we can have hour long conversations in Arabic on both normal and interesting topics and understand each other. We walked around a bit and bought a few things and headed home. All of these tasks are usually completed without hassle because we have learned to ignore most comments and have adapted to act like an Egyptian. Though clearly foreigners, we are no longer tourists. Nine times out of ten I get Egyptian prices and am able to converse well with people on the street. But tonight was different. Tonight is difficult to summarize because I felt contentment in a feeling. I felt safer. I felt more invisible. Then on the way back I became frustrated with myself for enjoying the feeling of invisibility. Part of me wants to wear a hijab when I go out at night because quite frankly it saves time, grief and hassle. The other part of me was frustrated because I feel like I fell victim to the cycle that the Egyptian males perpetuate for the females. Women feel like they need to wear hijabs because men make women not completely covered feel extremely uncomfortable. If I give in to what I feel is muted cultural suppression I feel like I am not representing who I truly am. And when it all comes back down to it, isn't that what a hijab is supposed to do: Outwardly demonstrate your inward beliefs.

The Hijab.

I have had frank discussions with many of my Muslim friends about the necessity or lack of necessity of wearing a hijab. {In Cairo, we pronounce it, higab.} Last night I walked around the city with a friend for four hours. We picked up some handmade earrings I bought in Zamalek, ate some of the fresh prickly pears and then walked over through random neighborhoods and over the bridge brushing the edge of central Cairo. We walked for about ten minutes and reached a huge tea and sheesha restaurant full of carpets draped over each other on the floor, dingy lights, huge metallic fans and men sitting puffing away, forgetting the problems of the day. I asked my friend about his expectations for his wife and what she will wears. He said, of course a hijab. He then turned to me and asked my opinion on women in the Middle East wearing hijabs. I did an eyebrow raise, subtly seeing if he really wanted my opinion. He told me 'yes, I want to know.' Alright then, I said. There are two important things.
First, I understand the religious factor. A hijab is in some ways, the Islamic equivalent to a promise ring in America. The hijab or burqqa or any other means of covering yourself is a beautiful outward pronouncement of your inner beliefs. There is definitely something to be said for keeping a part or your body special for your husband. In America, it was once and in some cases still is saving yourself, but this is now the exception rather than the rule. Here, wearing a hijab can be a symbol of your desire to keep something special for your husband and only your husband.
My friend said, 'our women, in the Middle East are treasured beyond all else and we want to protect them. A hijab also protects women from other men looking at her.'
My response was, 'that 'protection' is the key that has led to oppression and not protection. Which brings me to my second point. Hijabs also represent female oppression in the Middle East. The very idea that it is a veil of safety from impure thoughts of other men puts women into the category of a thing to protect without ever giving them the tools or education to protect themselves. Women here are extremely dependent on their husbands, both socially and financially. Maybe this isn't a bad thing, but it is certainly different. 'The basic question', he asked me, 'is if you think there is an inherent difference in women and men.' Of course there are differences. Both anatomical and otherwise. But the question is not if the difference exists but whether we can live in a world where the opinions and opportunities are provided for both sexes.

Lastly, a friend from New York and I sat the other night over coffee and discussed similar issues. She is a Muslim raised in California, a world traveler and lives in NY. She said she sometimes wears a higab in the states for several reasons. One, it is really cold and it keeps her warm. Second, she feels that at times a hijab levels the playing field. The way she explained it,-- it makes me feel like I am expressing myself as a being as opposed to a gender. It downplays the femininity factor and forces the focus to be on her as a person instead of a medium of sexuality. Interesting, eh?

The Womens Car

There exists a very effective Metro service throughout greater Cairo. It is one of the only things that consistently is running and on time in the entire country. It is only one Egyptian pound which is the equivalent of 18 cents so is obviously quite cost effective and avoids all of Cairo's infamous traffic. It was a little intimidating the first time I rode it last fall but now it's a piece of gato! (cake in colloquial Arabic and French too I think!) Like the states, it is a fast way of transportation to and from work, busiest at the work rush hours. During these hours it is jam packed. There is no AC and little ventilation so it can get quite hot and full of different odors. Sometimes it's so bad I play the where is that smell coming from game. Gross, I know. But, unlike the United States, the Egyptians have two FEMALE ONLY railway cars. There are little women printed above the doors in pink with warnings written to men not enter. It is my safe zone. The women who ride the metro are so sweet and always smile at me. Sometimes I engage in conversations with them and they always love showing off the English words they remember from studying in high school or university. They always are highly amused when I respond in Arabic and full of encouraging remarks. Riding in the womens car is quiet, safe and so much more pleasant than riding the real cars. I like to think that for all the bad stuff Egyptian women are forced to deal with, at least they have this out of the deal. It may sound silly, but it really is a beautiful escape. Everywhere I walk I get cat called, whistled, and comments on oh-wow- how very beautiful (I am). It is one of the only things that will never change here and I will never get used to. I hate it. But in the womens car it is a place devoid of comments, stares and harassment. When I ride in the regular cars I am frequently subject to stares, "accidental" bumps into my chest, and a few times a butt squeeze as I exit the metro doors. That one is particularly frustrating because you can't say anything to the culprit when the doors are closing. It is not always bad but it is definitely something I avoid. I love the womens car. There is something almost empowering about it. Once, when a guy tried to entire the womens car (either accidentally or on purpose, I'm not sure) the women all starting collectively yelling at him effectively forcing him out of the car- much to his public embarrassment. Pardon the cliche, but my first thought was 'you go girls!'

Slurpies?

I had some first hand experience with a cultural faux pas here in Egypt. I was out with a friend for lunch in a restaurant called Abou Shakra in Garden City. We sat down and ordered some food, only slightly aware of the fact that we were the only foreigners there. I ordered a fresh lemon & mint juice. The juice of the Middle East is spectacularly delicious. I am not exaggerating. It is squeezed fresh, straight from the fruit and without extra sugar. There is always foam on the top too! So here I am drinking my drink and without noticing it, I finished the last of it with one big sip, generating a kind of slurp/gurgle thing. The entire (and I am not exaggerating) restaurant tuned and stared at me as if on cue and began giggling, clearly embarrassed for me. Not knowing how to react, I started laughing too, well aware I just learned an Egyptian faux pas. An Egyptian friend later informed me that it suggests that you are "unclean." I suppose if anything, I would think it would suggest over-indulgence? What do you think?

Marina 5.2

The next day was eventful. We woke up around 2 in the afternoon and Sayed informed us we would be going out on the boat. I grew up in Jupiter, Florida which obviously points out my affinity to anything with water- oceans, beaches, boats, pools. You name it. So here we are waiting on the end of a dock for the boat to pick us up; I am looking around this place and trying to take it all in. The water is the clear blue of south Croatia, like the sands of Italy, the condo's of Palm Beach and temperature of the Israeli coastline. His friend drives over to pick us up in his boat, all of them decked in Ray Bans and designer swimwear. So we all meet and do the usual introductions. We cruised along the coast and then out into the Med where we decided to swim around. Hossam tried to tell me there were Sharks, but I told him there aren't. (right?!?) Anyways we met up with some other friends who had this tube that looked like a floating McDonalds toy where you stick your legs through the back and your neck and arms through holes on the front where you hold onto the rope. Highly uncomfortable I was the only one who attempted it. The whole time I am yelling back to my friends on the boat and feeling like such a grandma because I am paranoid I'm going to snap my neck in this contraption! Turned out I was really bad at it.
The remainder of the day basically could be summed up into a boat party, loud music, back-flips off the boat, a sad attempt at tubing and a vibrant orange African sunset. African sunsets are my favorite.

Marina 5

Brittany, Katie, Sayed and myself drove up to Marina after classes ended on Thursday. Britttany and Katie are both in my program and Sayed goes to Depaul University in Chicago with Brittany. We were stuck in traffic for quite a while in Tahrir Square but jammed out to old school 90's hits the whole way there. We pulled into Marina 5 but there are 7 Marina developments that collectively stretch over 20 kilometers of white sand beaches, crystal blue water and dozens of sheek restaurants filled with extremely wealthy Egyptians relaxing in this beach resort town. Made up of around 95% Egyptians, there are rarely tourists in this area. There is a Greek Cemetery from World War II so occasionally some tourists come to visit the graves of their families.
Well pulling into his development we were overwhelmed by how beautiful it was and immediately drawn to the signs (In English) which were lined up successively for the cars to see as cars drive down the road.
Stop.
Wait.
Does it please the Great?
Remember Allah.
Sayed, our friend who brought us told us that the signs were put up by a resident of Marina to discourage drinking and driving and obviously serve as a reminder to be cognizant of God.
Sayed's house was extremely gorgeous and reminded me of the part of Admirals Cove that sits on Jupiter Inlet. Huge stone mansions with a sprawling, grass filled backyard, a stone grill built up out of the ground (like those from Italy) and beautiful iron gates leading to the Mediterranean , 5 steps away. Welcome to bliss. We met his friends and cousins and got ready to go out.

Food Poisoning

Dear World, I have been a bad blogger. Sorry for the lack of updates. Well I had an amazing will be sure to fill you all in, in detail probably tomorrow. I will tell you this much- after an eventful night in Marina (North Coast of Egypt) around 6am some friends and I decided to indulge in Nutella. No particular reason except for that Nutella is particularly delicious. Who doesn't love a little Nutella in their life? So afterward we sleep and I wake up not feeling too hot. Turns out that darn Nutella gave us all food poisoning. I am 99% positive it was from the Nutella. I woke up and immediately got sick. It lasted way too long and was basically death. I had to get a shot in 'a muscle' to stop up-chucking. It lasted a while, the death, that is. I only passed out twice and now I'm on two different kinds of antibiotics. I have been out of commission for a while and am still not able to eat food but am doing much better! El hamdullah.

Cooking

These last few days have been crazy busy. But I have some good news; I took an Egyptian cooking class!!! Which is really exciting for me- and my new roommates and of course the family. Our Chef is a Monk at one of the Monasteries in Cairo and happens to be a talented cook! We began around 4:30 gathering around two tables surrounded with cutting boards and knives. We prepped everything for the famous stuffed vegetables, called Hashwe, slicing, dicing and hollowing out the white and purple eggplants, peppers and zucchini. We learned how to make kofte (minced meat on a kebab) which is one of my favorite meat dishes here. I helped the cook saute the rice and simultaneously burned my knee on the oven, which apparently here does not have a heat protection. You know when you peek your head through the window in the oven in America? Well it is impossible hear. The glass heats up like the oven. Bah. Everything was delicious, except for the rice pudding which was too watery. After the cooking class Maggie and I decided to go smoke sheesha and grab some fresh juice. Our brains needed a break from all the Arabic because we had been in our classroom building from 9am until 7pm. Heading over to Zamalek we were stuck in Cairo traffic which allowed us to talk to our cabby and practice our Arabic. We reached our sheesha place just in time to watch the sunset set over the Nile behind an old, intricately engraved minaret. Turns out I found a really great friend. We destressed, Maggie ordered her very first sheesha, and I ordered my usual, half lemon and half mint which is the equivalent of smoking a mojito. Though smoking flavored tobacco at times makes me feel guilty. I want to protect my lungs, but whatever. Life is short,