Stepping out of the cab next to my apartment, I grabbed my suitcase and gave the driver 20 pounds. My troubles begin.
"What's this?"
"20 pounds, why?"
"This is too little."
Oh hell no. I was already ripped off at the bus station, and I'm not letting him get away with it. I always speak better when I'm in an intense situation. I got this, I thought.
"No, that's plenty. If I was Egyptian, I wouldn't even pay half that. I paid 10 to get from my apartment to the bus station. This is generous, trust me."
"No, it's 40, I swear to God, it's 40. You saw the route."
I roll my eyes as my blood starts to boil over.
"There was no traffic, none. You know what I think? I think it's because I'm a foreigner!" Oh yeah, I went there.
"NO! You are a countryman, you are speaking Arabic, you are like me."
I am like you...I am like you...I am like you...hmmm...
"believe me."
"No, I don't believe you."
"I swear to God, I swear to God."
"Well I think God told me that 20 was good," I retorted snarkily.
He threw down the money on my suitcase and took the famous Egyptian cab driver baby fit and stormed back in his taxi while I played along, looking confused and lost. Then, tired after 33 hours of no sleep and irritated that it was Alex, not Cairo, I had all the problems, I lost it. I threw that 20 through his window.
"Take the damn money, I'm done playing this game!"
I rolled my suitcase around the corner and almost reach the door. I hear the car pull up behind me and a door slam shut. I thought, "shit, there's no one here. All I have are my two bare hands and a shoddy remembrance of how to damage someone's solar plexus. I figured I had one good shot. 10 seconds to get to that door and shut it locked. Shit, my phone's in my suitcase and it was dead. Way to plan ahead. Remember, Matt, remember that it's always the unexpected."
Snap back to the dark street.
He persists, advancing.
"No, enough! I scream at the top of my lungs as I pull my suitcase up the stairs. "Get away from me, thief!"
"I'm going to bring the police here and they will take the money from you," he said.
I try to close the door in his face.
"You're going to bring the police? If you don't get out of here, I'm going to hit you, I swear to God!"
Someone hears the commotion and starts yelling at him. I push the door shut, and he blocks it. I throw my weight into the door and I hear him fall into the car outside.
"I said leave!"
I didn't turn on the light and hauled that suitcase up 4 flights of stairs as the arguing persisted outside. I felt for the first time that my life was in danger in Egypt. I flung myself into the door, fumbling for my keys, ringing the doorbell, hoping Alberto was awake. No luck. I find the keys wrapped in an extra pair of shoe laces, barge through the door, and quietly close it so as not to wake up the neighbors. My honor and pride in tact. He'll remember next time he tries to rip off a foreigner. What a nisab (con). Welcome home, Matthew. Here we go.
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Though not tickled to be back here, I did miss my little group of partners in crime...or, well, inmates. As we caught up tonight, I sloshed my ideas all around for the rest of the semester. We all decided we needed to stick together more than last semester. I picked up the new deck of cards, and asked what everyone knew how to play..."Poker? Euchre?" of course all the Michigan kids knew euchre, others will have to be taught. Texas Hold'em was the agreed upon poker game.
I also think that since Zenit needs to write a thesis and I want to start researching, we're going to do a project. She really wants to get inside the Alex gay community; as for me, I want it to work, because I'm fascinated about how I can tie this research into politics. I am skeptical though. The subject is so taboo; ha, if it was published and got out, the Egyptian government would ban us from the country. And it's definitely not my scene. But...what are the political attitudes about gays in Egypt? Does that exist? How do they validate and perpetuate the system of protecting morality and the community in the public sphere through marrying women? I'm intrigued. Maybe we can get a grant from HRC, I'm really hopeful it will work, maybe in lieu of our sham of "internships" that we all have to do. To know that our research will become primary resources in a taboo and unstudied area is exciting. If we can't do it for the internship, we might do it anyway. I'm going to look for grants tomorrow, and we're going to draft a plan within the next few weeks. Finally, something interesting to put my mind to; a real piece of relevance to my future. Keep your fingers crossed.
As for the university class I have to take, the plane ride home also inspired me. Sitting on a French airline, I finally found it. Why not just take a French class? Not for the sake of language upkeep, but I'm so fascinated with how Western culture and the scandalous pens of the French are digested and interpreted by Egyptians and by a very conservative society. Another opportunity to do something exciting. I want to write a report at the end of what I found. I really don't know how Andrew can say no. The point of the class is to become acquainted with Egyptian classroom experiences and learn like Egyptians. Any class will fulfill this. He told me last semester that it was because the class isn't in Arabic; but all my others are as it is. I would get so much out of this. What would he say, anyway, if I don't want to take another class? Go back home? I'm punishing you? FORCE me to take a class? This is my experience, and I'm determined what is going to make me happy and benefit my future.
I spent 7 months losing myself in this culture and program. I felt like I lost control. I did, in fact, lose every ounce of feeling, good and bad. However emo that sounds, I'm determined to not let this country steal my happiness again. It took 3 weeks to get it back, to remember who I was, where I came from, and that I MUST make the most out of my few short months left here. I won't lose myself again because I'm taking responsibility for every step I'm about to take. Sartre would be so proud.
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