I have always told myself, mostly by way of consolation for my lack of what one might call a “normal” twenty-somethinghood, that no matter how bad a day I may be having it was bound to be cooler than a bad day in America.
For the most part, I still believe this to be basically true. But sometimes the individual stresses of life here get tangled together, and once they do that it can be very tricky to untangle them. The result is a restless little Orientalist.
For the past few weeks I have been thrashing about, trying to figure out how to untie this anxious and ever-tightening little knot. I need to work more! I need to move! I need to start dating someone!
(Conspicuously absent from this list, you might notice, is “I need to go back to the US!” I don’t know when the prospect of that stopped being a relief and started to be just another source of stress.)
I don’t know if any of these is the answer.
Right now I live alone in a very expensive flat that I used to share with my ex, College Boyfriend. He left Egypt and is now working elsewhere on the Dark Continent, so I either need to convince someone to live in our slave quarters (complete with barred windows) or I need to move. Since my very expensive flat does not have a balcony and its windows only provide me with a peek into my neighbour’s living room, I’m looking into moving.
Earlier this week I went to a swanky real estate office yesterday and asked about 2 or 3 bedroom flats in Zamalek, for a reasonable Zamalek price. (Which is to say, more than most Egyptians make in a year)
When I quoted my price range, the pretty young AUC-grad working the desk looked at me like I had just shit in her crystal ash tray. She flipped her hair. She took a drag on her cigarette.
Was I sure?
I was.
Mashy mashy. Ok then, there is no problem ya3ny.
She brought me a binder with some listings in it, I picked out ten or fifteen and made an appointment to go look at them on Tuesday morning.
Today Angie the-AUC-grad texts me.
Hi, its me Angie. It’s cancel tomorrow coz owner don’t want to rent with 3000 LE. If there something new I will call u. thx.
The text made me think of a “Dear John” letter. I never did get many pretty girls.
Back to square one, I guess. And the restless little knot just gets knottier.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Introducing the Conscientious Orientalist
Cairo, they say, is the mother of the world. Her children are a strange bunch.
Since I first came to Cairo three years ago, I’ve done pretty much everything a foreigner with a bachelor’s degree can do in this town.
For a while, I studied Arabic at the American University. I stood in the cafeteria line behind rich Egyptians with ray-bans and gym memberships, and attended class with other Americans who would act defensive and entitled when they ate McDonald’s for lunch and edgy and “authentic” when they didn’t.
Eventually, I left AUC. I enrolled in a smaller school across town, tucked on a side street beneath large shade trees in a neighbourhood where class was frequently disrupted by the braying screams of over-worked donkeys. It was easier on the wallet and lighter on the attitude.
For a while I taught English at a school for refugees, but I am not a teacher at heart. When that gig ended, I started working as a free-lance journalist, mostly because I did not want to leave Egypt. I have had mixed success in journalism, although my plan not to leave Cairo has been wildly successful.
I came to Cairo to learn about the Middle East. But as my original plans for a three month stay slowly evolved into a two year residence, I started to see and do and think about all kinds of things that I’d never expected.
Which brings us to why I decided to join the blogging masses.
I am starting this blog because I think that writing down and reflecting on Cairo life will help me make sense of it all, or at least help me better appreciate what that life means. I hope any readers who have something to say will do that too – that’s why the good lord invented the comments function, guys.
Maybe thinking about what it means to be foreigners in Cairo will make us all more conscientious orientalists.
Since I first came to Cairo three years ago, I’ve done pretty much everything a foreigner with a bachelor’s degree can do in this town.
For a while, I studied Arabic at the American University. I stood in the cafeteria line behind rich Egyptians with ray-bans and gym memberships, and attended class with other Americans who would act defensive and entitled when they ate McDonald’s for lunch and edgy and “authentic” when they didn’t.
Eventually, I left AUC. I enrolled in a smaller school across town, tucked on a side street beneath large shade trees in a neighbourhood where class was frequently disrupted by the braying screams of over-worked donkeys. It was easier on the wallet and lighter on the attitude.
For a while I taught English at a school for refugees, but I am not a teacher at heart. When that gig ended, I started working as a free-lance journalist, mostly because I did not want to leave Egypt. I have had mixed success in journalism, although my plan not to leave Cairo has been wildly successful.
I came to Cairo to learn about the Middle East. But as my original plans for a three month stay slowly evolved into a two year residence, I started to see and do and think about all kinds of things that I’d never expected.
Which brings us to why I decided to join the blogging masses.
I am starting this blog because I think that writing down and reflecting on Cairo life will help me make sense of it all, or at least help me better appreciate what that life means. I hope any readers who have something to say will do that too – that’s why the good lord invented the comments function, guys.
Maybe thinking about what it means to be foreigners in Cairo will make us all more conscientious orientalists.
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