Fried fish and fall leaves.

Dear readers. 

I'm writing this post to you from beneath a pile of blankets on my bed on a dark, cozy Saturday evening. This means a few things.

1. Fall has finally come to Cairo, complete with rain. True, it lasted maybe 5 minutes, and never got beyond a Seattle sprinkle, but this was the first time I had seen the heavens open since sometime in June. After 4 years in the PNW (that would be the Pacific Northwest, for everyone living east of the Cascades who aren't savvy on the acronyms), 4 months without rain was starting to make me tweaky. When you actually long for your jeans to be in a perma-wet state from dragging through puddles, remember when you had to replace your windshield wiper blades every year from overuse, and become genuinely giddy to wear sweaters and scarves again, you know that something might actually be wrong with you. 4 months of pure sunshine next to the Nile certainly isn't something to be taken for granted! 

But the trick about autumn and winter in Egypt is that the houses have all been built for the 100+ degree summers, not for the 50-60 degree winters. No insulation. No heaters. So we pile the blankets on and putz around the house in fleece pants and, thus far, love every minute of the cooler weather.

The only downside is that there aren't any trees here that are changing color--at least, not yet, but the many palm trees aren't looking like a likely option. Pumpkin spice lattes are also non-existent. On the plus side, I can eat a roasted sweet potato just about any damn time I'd like, thanks to street vendors with little portable ovens on wheels. True, they usually wrap it in some kid's used notebook paper from school (my last one was wrapped in someone's trig notes), but for 20 cents, you can't complain.

2. I'm in bed at 6:30 not becase it's cozy, but because I'm recovering from my second bout of food poisoning in as many days. Since no one else I've eaten with has gotten sick, I'm left to assume that voodoo dolls are likely involved, or that my body has suddenly gone sissy on me. Thursday night I was done in by a chicken (with mayo) sandwich from the Egyptian McDonalds dollar menu (or, as it were, the 5 Egyptian Pound menu--there's less of a ring to that).

Last night I went to Maasara to spend the night with my old host family. Knowing that we were coming, they splurged on Nile fish, which they fried and stuffed with garlic. Having been shown how to properly de-bone a fish by the esteemed Mr. Razi while traveling through Alexandria, I was eager to show off my new skill. 

In my enthusiasm, however, I wound up eating two fish--this on top of a mountain of food that the family was, with all hospitality, shoving down my throat.

I've spent the last 24 hours regretting that fish, but still, with no relief. Normally I would welcome a day in bed to work on my grad school applications or read the Carlos Castaneda book I picked up yesterday, but neither deciding my future nor reading about psychotropic experiences with a Mexican Shaman sound particularly good under severe gastronomical duress. 

So, my friends, I will leave you here to curl up once again under the blankets. Here's to fall and stomach health.