Egyptians don’t sleep and are way louder than Americans, which I thought impossible.  There’s a guy outside my door shouting down the hall at another American to play “koora”, or soccer.  We have class tomorrow and he doesn’t want to play. It’s amazing to me that he knows how to say “fucking boring” but can’t take a polite no for an answer.  Cultural differences are always tricky to get around, and it takes even more critical thinking skill to come to mutual understanding.  He’ll tell the guy tomorrow that he was upset with him, and hopefully get over it just as quickly. It’s formulaic. Ugh, they’re still asking about “koora”. 

I found out about my classes today for the fall and winter semesters.  Apparently, teachers are rarely on time, and might even yell at you and throw you out if you enter after they do.  The rationale for this is that the professor sets a certain time aside for you each week, and that’s his time to come, whether late or not.  You are to be grateful that he arrived and is there to impart his knowledge upon you, like some god descending upon you from the podium Heavens.  Ahlan wa sahlan fi nizaam a-ta’aliimi al-masrii (welcome to the Egyptian educational system). 

Today, after we talked about the year-long program, we were released on a dreaded scavenger hunt to find different buildings and monuments in the city; 8 of them to be completed in 2 hours. Yeah right.  We found the tomb of the unknown soldier (above)  and decided that looking through the market would be better than taking a picture in front of a cinema (point four on the scavenger sheet).  

After I turned off the Corniche to the side street where the market started, I was instantly inundated with familiar sights, smells, and sounds.  The broken, narrow brick sidewalks that threatened the carefullest of walkers and the seemig-lack of order of people walking on the street and the walkway; the smell of unfiltered exhaust saturated my nostrils and labored my breathing; the sound of the mu’zin calling Muslims to prayer from a nearby mosque and the incessant sound of cars and taxis honking for absolutely no reason or to alert people that they are there and not to cut them off.  I finally found my step after 2 days of walking the Egyptian streets and maneuvering bravely through traffic to the other side of the street. I’m learning shwaya bi shwaya (little by little) to walk like an Egyptian. 

It feels like I’m learning more and more each day, every time I step outside, really.  I’m learning how to navigate through the technological difficulties of cell phones and computers, how to cross “challenging” streets, as the State Department dubs them.  I’m learning proper greetings, Egyptian is getting easier to understand.  I’m learning the proper way to enter/exit/pay for a cab and how to play their game and haggle, as well as the importance of the World Cup.  I’m also learning how to survive on very little, as my life has been reduced to two suitcases and (surprise) a backpack.  It’s like going to the library, only for a year.  

I found my favorite food group, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, for 55 pounds yesterday. That’s $9.80.  Import fees suck and I might have to find someone to share. I don’t like sharing my cereal fix.  Ever.  

Speaking of yesterday, I was able to go to the Library of Alexandria <>, which is a replacement for the ancient Library of Alexandria <>.  It wasn’t as impressive as I thought, as the collection relies mostly on donations due to a sad lack of funding; though the architecture didn’t disappoint.  It’s supposed to represent a sun rising when seen from above, and contains a letter from 120 scripts.  I want an internship here, translating, in the fall. 

         As far as pictures, I'm working on it. They're on my Picasa so far. I tried to link them to the picture of Egypt on the right but I'm having issues with slow internet.  Patience. 

When we went to Carrefour yesterday (the Egyptian supermall/walmart/meijer) I found a Starbucks, spelled ستاربكس كافيه. I can’t get away.  Next time, I’m going to see about getting a coffee when I go back to get my phone recharged.  Speaking of which, phones are a pain in the ass here to get going.  I have to buy an activation kit which comes with a new SIM card and a direction pamphlet.  After I unlock my phone and put in the chip and set up through a number, I have to go back to the store to get a card with minutes on it.  They need to take down my phone number and SIM card number before they can give it to me though.  Then I add minutes.  Then it works.  It’s incredibly complicated, and I’m going to have to make a day-long trip by taxi to get there one of these days.  I want to explore the mall more.  It’s much bigger and nicer than Briarwood Mall, and it reminds me of home.  

In fact, Egyptian middle class society reminds me so much of the US.  People dress just like me, shop and eat in restaurants (like Chile’s) and cafes (Starbucks) like me.  Boys and girls walk and talk with each other laughing.  There’s a Chanel, a Tommy, even a Cinnabon.  My experience in Morocco was quite different.  It was poorer, people weren’t as happy, and this sort of “luxurious” life doesn’t really exist.  I thought I had seen all of the Middle East before I got here.  No, I’m seeing layer by layer, and through the interesting mix of traditional life and modern Western life, the mix of sexes, presence of materialism, ATMs, and shopping malls, I’m finding that finding solace in the Familiar is helping cope with, understand, and embrace the Unknown.  Thank you Starbucks.