I don't like air travel very much. It's not the cramped seats or the noxious recycled air, it's that transitions happen much too quickly. You enter the airplane in Africa, you exit in Chicago. It tweaks me out. The nice thing about international travel, though...is that you do have a long, long time to process the change. 28 waking hours, to be precise. Leaving Cairo for America does prompt a number of thoughts and reflections, however, reflections that were fueled by a selection of depressing indie/hipster music and scandalousy few hours of sleep over the past 72 hours. Here are my thoughts, as recorded in the Heathrow international airport, in no particular order.
-Ponds. Who ever thinks about ponds? But here they are—dozens of them, wet and squishy, settled into the marshy English fields. Strange to have forgotten about ponds. I can safely say that ponds have not crossed my mind once in the past 6 months.
-Grass. Lots and lots if it. Wide open fields with nothing but grass. It's almost unimaginable coming from the crowded city of Cairo, which itself is sort of a shock of civilization in the middle of the harsh Sahara. The grass outside of the Heathrow window is the frozen, half-yellow kind, too. I haven’t seen that since last Christmas in Chicago. It reminds me of home. These are my first two thoughts as we fly into Heathrow: ponds. grass.
-Open spaces. Open, green lots surround the airport; wide, immaculate white tiled hallways dwarfs the handful of travelers waiting for the airport transit to arrive; floors and floors of slender escalators and pristine hallways zig zag for miles as I walked an Egyptian woman from one terminal to another. Massive, massive amounts of space everywhere. It seems regal, but unnecessary. It’s cozier to be crowded.
-“Don’t Buy Anything.” Remember that the British pound makes everything literally 10 times more expensive than Cairo.
-Unfinished business. My friend Farek the taxi driver announced to me this morning that he and his wife are having a baby. My host sister Gigi called me at the airport terminal, crying. Foreigners make for fickle friendships; we’re always coming and going, while our Egyptian friends remain. For better or worse, I feel hopelessly tangled up in the lives of some half dozen Egyptians. I worry about them, I fret over them, I think about what they’re doing at this moment or the next. Six weeks is a long time to be away. It’s easy to run away from Cairo, but it’s hard to leave. I spent the first 3 hours of my plane ride crying with a bloody mary in my hand. I don’t know what I’ll do come July. Best not to think about it yet.
-First taste of bacon in 6 months (airport refrigerated BLT sandwich, £1.75)—good, but the taste was unfortunately obscured by too much mayonnaise. (Note: upon later reflection, likely the source of my gastronomic troubles at the O'hare baggage claim).
-Diversity. After 6 months of living in a fairly homogenous Arab society, it’s refreshing to see other nationalities and ethnicities (So, so many Indians everywhere! It's such a treat to have a new culture to interact with for a change). It’s not too strange, either; I remember upon returning from Ecuador, I was always shocked to see any non-Hispanics for a few months afterwards. Not today.
I was startled to see a Hasidic Jew, however, before I remembered that I’m no longer living in an area steeped in the political sensitivies of the Arab-Israeli conflict. There aren’t many (any) Hasidic Jews in Egypt.
-The “Cadbury Turkish,” despite its intriguing name, is mostly a disappointment. Turkish delight meets chocolate bar? Hard to pull off, even for such an ordinarily delectable chocolatier.
-It’s too easy. After 6 months of daydreaming about easy social interactions, Starbucks, and central heating, I’m suddenly feeling a little let down now that I have it all at my fingertips. There’s something about doing x daily life activity in Egypt that makes life exciting, more of a challenge. I couldn’t have written two-thirds of my blog posts from anywhere else in the world. When in America is going to the pharmacy an epic adventure? Or how often is riding public transportation or having a simple conversation with a co-worker noteworthy? Living in a country where you don’t speak the language or completely understand the culture can be tiring, but it’s also thrilling. It’s wonderful to be coming home to visit my family, but I don’t think I’m ready to leave Egypt yet. There are many more adventures to be had.
-Being able to see out. Cairo may not have any true skyscrapers, but neither does it have any single-story buildings. The whole city is 5 stories tall, everywhere. It’s strange to be able to see above the top of buildings, and see open green spaces in between. I can think of only three times in the past 6 months when I was able to get a view of any kind: at al-Azhar park in Cairo, in Dr. Holt’s 11th floor apartment, and while driving on the highway overpass to and from the airport.
-Surprisingly, it’s not strange to be able to eavesdrop, nor is it strange to hear/speak English everywhere.
-Girls with short, dyed hair stick out to me.
-A group of four Muslim women—three in abaya, one in nikab—is very comforting in its familiarity. I may have left Egypt, but there are many Arab Muslims traveling through Heathrow. I don't feel too far away yet.
-I feel in a very helpful mood. I saw an Egyptian woman from my flight wandering around a bit lost as she was trying to make her connection. I bounced over to her and offered to walk her to her gate, all the while chatting her up about life in Egypt and where she was traveling to (Canada). It’s so nice to finally be the one who knows what’s going on—and, having received so much hospitality over the past half-year, I’m eager to return the favor.
-I was careful to hand passport control my papers with my right hand, not my left, in order to be polite. I also found myself eating my bacon sandwich (haram anyway, so my social niceties are moot) with my right hand, too.
-Christmas decorations are really nice. Christmas sales are overwhelming.
-White chocolate Starbucks mochas are divine, even for £3.05.
-It’s foggy out—but that’s not the strange thing, exactly. It’s that it’s a damp fog. Cairo has been pretty cloudy lately (they apparently call winter the “season of black clouds” in Egyot). But it’s that things look damp, like it might snow, or like it recently drizzled.
-I’m suddenly worrying that someone might steal my wallet. After all, I’m not in Egypt anymore. I’m not as safe here, strangely enough.
-A reasonable expectation of toilet paper in every bathroom—and the ability to flush said TP down the toilet instead of throwing it in a wastebasket—is a surprisingly welcome luxury.
-I haven’t slept in 3 days. This isn’t helping the transition, and may or may not have something to do with why the tears were flowing as much as they were this morning on British Airways flight 154. Still, the thought of meeting my dad at the airport in 10 hours makes me giddy. I forget the time has passed in the meantime, though; my mother’s breast cancer, my dog dying, my little sister learning to drive. The push of time is beautiful, but it can bring a little ache with it, too.
-I suddenly have an urge to call everyone in my address book. I forget that I’m not actually in the U.S. yet, and don’t have my American cellphone with me. My Egyptian cellphone is worthless here, so it looks like I’m alone with my blog in the meantime.
And those, my dear readers, are my first thoughts out of Africa. As for my first thoughts in America, waking up on a spring mattress with a sprinkling of snow outside, and my family drinking legit American coffee at the kitchen table--let's just say, life is delicious.
-The “Cadbury Turkish,” despite its intriguing name, is mostly a disappointment. Turkish delight meets chocolate bar? Hard to pull off, even for such an ordinarily delectable chocolatier.
-It’s too easy. After 6 months of daydreaming about easy social interactions, Starbucks, and central heating, I’m suddenly feeling a little let down now that I have it all at my fingertips. There’s something about doing x daily life activity in Egypt that makes life exciting, more of a challenge. I couldn’t have written two-thirds of my blog posts from anywhere else in the world. When in America is going to the pharmacy an epic adventure? Or how often is riding public transportation or having a simple conversation with a co-worker noteworthy? Living in a country where you don’t speak the language or completely understand the culture can be tiring, but it’s also thrilling. It’s wonderful to be coming home to visit my family, but I don’t think I’m ready to leave Egypt yet. There are many more adventures to be had.
-Being able to see out. Cairo may not have any true skyscrapers, but neither does it have any single-story buildings. The whole city is 5 stories tall, everywhere. It’s strange to be able to see above the top of buildings, and see open green spaces in between. I can think of only three times in the past 6 months when I was able to get a view of any kind: at al-Azhar park in Cairo, in Dr. Holt’s 11th floor apartment, and while driving on the highway overpass to and from the airport.
-Surprisingly, it’s not strange to be able to eavesdrop, nor is it strange to hear/speak English everywhere.
-Girls with short, dyed hair stick out to me.
-A group of four Muslim women—three in abaya, one in nikab—is very comforting in its familiarity. I may have left Egypt, but there are many Arab Muslims traveling through Heathrow. I don't feel too far away yet.
-I feel in a very helpful mood. I saw an Egyptian woman from my flight wandering around a bit lost as she was trying to make her connection. I bounced over to her and offered to walk her to her gate, all the while chatting her up about life in Egypt and where she was traveling to (Canada). It’s so nice to finally be the one who knows what’s going on—and, having received so much hospitality over the past half-year, I’m eager to return the favor.
-I was careful to hand passport control my papers with my right hand, not my left, in order to be polite. I also found myself eating my bacon sandwich (haram anyway, so my social niceties are moot) with my right hand, too.
-Christmas decorations are really nice. Christmas sales are overwhelming.
-White chocolate Starbucks mochas are divine, even for £3.05.
-It’s foggy out—but that’s not the strange thing, exactly. It’s that it’s a damp fog. Cairo has been pretty cloudy lately (they apparently call winter the “season of black clouds” in Egyot). But it’s that things look damp, like it might snow, or like it recently drizzled.
-I’m suddenly worrying that someone might steal my wallet. After all, I’m not in Egypt anymore. I’m not as safe here, strangely enough.
-A reasonable expectation of toilet paper in every bathroom—and the ability to flush said TP down the toilet instead of throwing it in a wastebasket—is a surprisingly welcome luxury.
-I haven’t slept in 3 days. This isn’t helping the transition, and may or may not have something to do with why the tears were flowing as much as they were this morning on British Airways flight 154. Still, the thought of meeting my dad at the airport in 10 hours makes me giddy. I forget the time has passed in the meantime, though; my mother’s breast cancer, my dog dying, my little sister learning to drive. The push of time is beautiful, but it can bring a little ache with it, too.
-I suddenly have an urge to call everyone in my address book. I forget that I’m not actually in the U.S. yet, and don’t have my American cellphone with me. My Egyptian cellphone is worthless here, so it looks like I’m alone with my blog in the meantime.
And those, my dear readers, are my first thoughts out of Africa. As for my first thoughts in America, waking up on a spring mattress with a sprinkling of snow outside, and my family drinking legit American coffee at the kitchen table--let's just say, life is delicious.
2 comments:
Welcome home. I hope the stay is wonderful. Lindsay, Madeline, Micah and I read your blog often.
Tell the family hello!
let me know a number that I can call you at, or just call me sometime.
Alex
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