A restless Orientalist

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.