Wow, Cairo... I am here in this lovely city to learn Arabic. I will be here for one year, god willing, to study at the Arabic Language Institute, which shares a campus with the American University. Why Arabic? Why not, I say. If I am successful in my endeavors here, hopefully I can find stable employment in the U.S.'s increasingly unstable economy. Will I work for the government? Not under this administration...

There are other reasons for learning such a difficult language. I am a graduate student at the University of Colorado in Boulder, CO studying post-colonial history. The language skills will surely increase my prestige among my peers and advisors and increase my success in understanding the Arab point-of-view. (While the prestige might be unnecessary, it's always helpful.)
Arriving at the airport on Tuesday was painless. No authority searched my bags or even glanced my way. Only two men asked me if I needed a cab and the second offer I accepted. He walked me over to his boss and in traditional Egyptian style they wanted to chat before doing business. If I had been in America I would have complained of the useless chatting and I would be irritated. However, these men were very honest and the vibes were only good. When we finally got into the cab, the only frustration I experienced today occurred - traffic and heat at the same time. I arrived at 3pm and the heat was intense. My toenails were sweating and my long sleeve shirt was soaked. The cab driver naturally drove like a madman, as was every other driver in Egypt. For a few minutes I thought I’d be sick. I had only slept about 10 hours in 3 days and I was starving and dehydrated. I surely thought I’d lose my stomach in the back seat of his old Mercedes, but I closed my eyes and remembered to breathe and was fine - no puking.

After we crested the hill outside the airport, I got to view what was causing the terrible traffic jam. You're not going to believe this - there were about 40 men repaving the road. The production went something like this: 20 men were sitting on the road to be repaved using putty knives to scrape up the old tar; another 5 men were painting some spots on the road red with trim paintbrushes; the man operating the tar machine was asleep in the shadow of his truck's bumper; and the other 10 or so men were supervising, smoking, talking, and laughing under a nearby tree. My jaw dropped when I saw those men scraping up the road with their little flimsy knives. Nevertheless, the city is surprisingly modern - there are many buildings that could qualify as African skyscrapers.

The city, or the parts that I have seen so far which is few, is incredible. The people are all very friendly. I see women sitting at cafes together with no men present which tells me the country is more open than I previously thought. Tonight I went to the closest restaurant to my hotel and had amazing pesto pasta.

When I arrived at the very nice hotel stinking and looking like hell, the bellhop and manager were a bit rude and directed me to sit in a corner until they "found my reservation." In my traditional stern manner I demanded to know the problem, why many others came to the reservation counter and were immediately escorted to their rooms. I think the manger sensed I'd make a scene so he reluctantly assigned me a room. I tipped the bellhop well and showered. I threw on my elegant linen pants, modest black long-sleeved top, and a beautiful scarf. I put on a touch of make-up and made my hair look nice... Well, I was treated like a queen when I returned to the lobby. At first this upset me - we would call this discrimination in America. Then I realized that appearances are very important to Egyptians - they are full of pride with pressed shirts, khaki pants, and shined leather shoes. When I emerged from the elevator looking great, the hotel staff then realized I would not disgrace their hotel and treated me like a sister. This is fine with me - you know I think Americans dress like trash so I approve of this prideful aspect of Egyptian culture. While I was chatting with the bellhop about a good place to grub, a terribly trashy German couple emerged from the street, with the woman wearing a dirty, white, male undershirt and no bra - clearly a total lack of respect for the Egyptian people who have different requirements for dress and appearance. But don't get me wrong, I was surprised at how Egyptian women dressed - it's not as conservative as I believed it would be. Some wear knee-length skirts and short-sleeved shirts while some wear the hajib - and all the styles in-between.

The only offence I am concerned about is eating with my left hand - I am left-handed. Remember, Muslims only use their left hand in the restroom, so therefore think it a terribly awful offence to eat with your "dirty" hand. I'm sure I can change that minor habit. I was able to get by before in Morocco...

I’ve gotten very excited to learn Arabic. I want better communication with the people around me and I want to stand up for myself if ever necessary, although I think the latter will be unnecessary for Cairo is much safer than any comparable city of its size in America.

Thanks for logging on and stay tuned...