The Chronicles of Desperation: A Cookbook

Recipes for the study abroad student who only has access to a microwave, a stovetop, one skillet, and a very limited selection of groceries:

Saudi bread pizza:

1 panatha bread, frozen

½ cup mozzarella cheese

1 medium tomato, sliced

2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil

2  tsp garlic powder

2 tsp Italian spices (basil, oregano)

Steps:
1) take frozen panatha bread and heat it in warm skillet for two to three minutes (turning it over when appropriate)
2) when properly cooked, place on a plate and brush olive oil onto bread
3) top with mozzarella and tomato slices
4) sprinkle Italian spices and garlic powder
5) place in microwave for 30-40 seconds until cheese is melted.

Grilled Eggplant Sandwich

1 medium eggplant, sliced   

2 tbsp olive oil (to fry in pan) + Italian spices (garlic, oregano, basil)

1-1/2 tbsp mayonnaise (to spread on sandwich)

1 small Italian bread

Side of chips

Steps:
1) In pan, fry eggplant in olive oil (meanwhile adding Italian spices while it cooks) for 4-5 minutes
2) When tender, place eggplant slices in Italian bread slices (either put mayo in before eggplant or after, it's up to you)
3) add side of chips

 Italian Egg sandwich:

3 eggs

1 tsp pepper

2 tsp Italian spices (basil, oregano, garlic) 

1 Italian bread

Steps:
1) Stir eggs in a small bowl
2) Add pepper and Italian spices in bowl
3) Pour bowl of eggs into a frying pan (heat stove on medium)
4) Scramble eggs and add more pepper and garlic
5) When cooked, place in Italian bread

            Side dish:

Breaded and lightly fried eggplant

Ingredients:

1 medium eggplant cut into ¼ inch slices

1 egg (stirred in a bowl)

½ cup breadcrumbs (if possible, Italian breadcrumbs . . . if not add a generous helping of basil, oregano, garlic) on a plate

Steps:
1) Dip eggplant slices in egg
2) Place "egged" eggplant slices in bread crumbs
3) Heat olive oil in a skillet, and proceed to place breaded eggplant slices into skillet
4) Cook for 4-5 minutes, turning over slices every minute or so

What else do I eat?: 

A little bit of this

A little bit of that

                                          It's better than Nutella

And a lot of this: 

Life @ AUC- New Cairo

I just thought I would compose a few brief thoughts about my temporary academic home, The American University in Cairo. Overall, the atmosphere is a lot less stressful than Lawrence, though I have more domestic responsibilities so the time commitment evens out. As for the student body, the university is filled with the sons and daughters of the Egyptian elite, for which reason the school and its students are heralded as the cream of the Egyptian crop. So why am I not impressed? I will proceed to answer this question with a haiku. No, not really, but that would be impressive. However, I will demonstrate my feelings to you through photos and selections from the AUC publication "The Independent":


Reason number 1: The intellect

This article chronicles how the art majors feel pitied/ looked down upon by the rest of the student body.
Fail.

Reason number 2: The talent
There are no words.



Reason number 3: The food
You're probably wondering what this picture captures. I will enlighten you. It is the chlorine stains on a girl's shirt after she spit out portions of her toxic salad from the AUC salad bar. In an ironic twist, the chlorine solution that the cafeteria uses to make sure Nile bacteria on vegetables does not make students sick, actually made students sick.

Reason number 4: The dress code

According to the general guidelines in the AUC handbook, "students are expected to wear attire that is appropriate to the academic setting and the Egyptian culture."
Thus . . . .
Mennonite chic.

Yet, AUC has one redeeming quality. . . It's so damn pretty.

Half-way point

I have been in Egypt for a very arduous, very brutal 59 days, 4 hours, 21 minutes, and 6 seconds. It seems like a lifetime since I've been in the United States, and I find myself getting restless to return.
In honor of this special occasion marking the "half-way-over" portion of my trip, I thought I would devote this blogpost to a candid reflection of the experience, without sarcasm or humor to hide behind.
Undeniably this has been one of the hardest experiences of my life, being so far away from home, and completely isolated. (My living situation is not the greatest, and I rarely get to meet with other study abroad students).
The only real human interaction I get is through skype calls to family and friends, without whom I would be lost. The environs here are harsh, and I have never had to fend for myself to the extent that I have had to here, in Egypt of all places. I travel everywhere alone, have to cook for myself (I will appreciate a meal plan so much when I get back to Lawrence), grocery shop, laundry (the old fashioned way), deal with visa issues, money, and credit cards, as well as street harassers, and taxi drivers.
Luckily, I have not suffered some more horrible fates, the tales of which have been circulating around the study abroad population at AUC. Many students have lived through multiple bouts of food poisoning, bedbugs, inappropriate touching from locals, and horrible travel experiences. Those people who came here idealizing this country are going to be leaving sorely disappointed.
I came into this experience understanding the difficulties I would encounter, and will leave with an appreciation (but no love) for them. Egypt is not and never will be among the things that I love. Yet it will be a place that sticks with me, because my solitude here has facilitated a lot of soul-searching, through which I have learned a great deal about myself and what I can handle.
I can't wait to come home. Now I just need to hold my breath and pray that the following 60 days, 2 hours, 57 minutes and 8 seconds go by at the speed of light. In the words of a fellow classmate "I'm so over Egypt."

My camera isn't waterproof, and other lamentations

On the day that I chose to take a walking tour of old Istanbul, the weather turned to a bleak 50 degrees with a side of pouring rain. It did not help that all of my jackets are back in the United States, safely packed away in boxes awaiting my return. (I mean, who needs a jacket in perpetually 90 degree Cairo?) So, I bundled up, layering all of the shirts that I brought with three pairs of tights under a summer dress.
Luckily for me, I got to see amazing things, in the culmination of the best of Istanbul: my grand finale.
Our first stop was the Blue mosque, a staple of every trip to Istanbul. Unfortunately, a cruise ship docked a few hours earlier on the Bosphorous, and I ended up having to wait in an hour long line, drowning in a sea of French people who were trying to elbow their way in front of me. The Blue mosque was kind of a let-down at this point, because it looked like almost every mosque that I had been to in Turkey and Egypt. The worst part was that the place has only one exit, so I had to stand in another line (with French people) to get out of the building, all the while thinking about how much of a fire safety code hazard it was. (I'm sure that was not on the priority list of architects in the 1500's).
The Blue Mosque

The next stop was Topkapi palace, the abode of the early sultans. Again, the place was mobbed, but I got to see the most beautiful Ottoman architecture- white washed walls guilded with gold- as well as the sultans' jewelery (including the fifth largest diamond in the world), spoils of war, presents from other empires, swords, thrones, bejeweled clothing, and the Prophet Mohammed's paraphernalia (hat, sword, tunic) as a demonstration of Ottoman control over Mecca and Medina.

After a short lunch break, my group sojourned to the place that was the reason for my pilgrimage to Istanbul: Hagia Sophia, or in Greek, Holy Wisdom. This church was built in the 500's by Emperor Justinian and Empress Theodora of the Byzantine empire, and was the largest building in the world for a millenium. When the Ottomans conquered, they turned the church into a mosque, which is reflected in large disks on four corners of the dome that bear the names of God, Mohammed, Ali, and Abu Bakr.

My favorite part of the museum was the Byzantine mosaics. Somehow, the French people had not yet weasled their way up to the upper floors of the museum, and I was able to stand contemplatively in front of a shimmery golden mosaic of Jesus for a peaceful and undisturbed five minutes. Then a slew of French people emerged, knocking me away from Jesus, and prompting me to hoof my way toward the exit.
Jesus, for those of you who are not in the loop.

The next destination was an underground water passage called the Cistern. It served as a resting point for water on its way through aqueducts to the surrounding region. The cavernous cistern was a bit spooky, because its Roman columns and pools of water were lit blood red by theatrical lights. However, the place exuded an appealing atmosphere of ancient mystery.

At the end of our tour, we were dropped off at the Grand Bazaar, which I believe was a practical joke played on us by our impish tour guide who, at the Topkaki palace security check point, made the announcement that if we had any bombs on our person, we should leave them at the gate.
The bazaar was a labyrinth, and only someone with a sense of humor could escape unterrified from the chaos within. According to Arman, our guide, the bazaar has 4,000 stores and 60 exits. Luckily, I made a friend from the tour, an older man on vacation (for his bucket list), and we navigated the place together. He wanted to find his daughter some jewelery, but I just wanted to go home. I won.
After a day of trudging through the cold and pouring rain, I was soaked to the bone, and just wanted a good meal. I decided to return to the restaurant where I dined on the first night, this time indulging myself with Baigan Bharta, my favorite Indian dish. It did not disappoint.
I can thank the universe for the crappy weather at the end of my trip, because it made going back to Cairo a bit easier. Traveling always seems to be a hassle, though, and I did not evade trouble on my way out of Turkey. At the airport, I couldn't walk through to the passport check booth because it was blocked by a wall of hundreds of people and their suitcases on their way to Medina (plus their family members who were 'well-wishing' them off on their journey). When I finally pushed my way through, I made it to the other side where I was greeted by a "dondurma" stand. A friend of mine had recommended dondurma, a special Turkish stretchy/non-melting ice cream that is not technically legal outside of Turkey. I saw this as my last chance for the near future, so I stopped and paid the dondurma guy three American dollars to have my first bite, and it was so worth it!

My dreamlike trip to Turkey ended as soon as I stepped out of the Cairo airport into the hot, glaring sun, with taxi drivers ready to pounce on me, trying to overcharge me for a ride home. Hah! If they thought I was going to pay 100 LE for a taxi ride, they were sorely mistaken. A more perceptive taxi driver caught on that I was not a mere American tourist, and offered me a more reasonable fare, 70 LE for the trip. I was so proud of myself when I was able to instruct him, in Arabic, how to get back to my apartment (from the highway).
After successfully completing an infinitely amazing trip that I planned and executed myself, I crashlanded on my bed and called it a day.

A Blustery Day on the Bosphorous

I woke up to the faint sound of a light rain pattering on my window. Usually I would be disappointed by this type of weather, but its exoticism appealed to me. I don't even remember the last time I felt rain on my skin or temperatures lower than seventy degrees.
After a filling breakfast, I decided to enjoy this cool October day by walking back to the bustling part of the city to change money. The rain had stopped, and a quiet sunlight edged through the thick clouds. There was a damp wind gusting in from the sea, and I thought I was in heaven.
Then it started to rain again: it was a torrential downpour of epic proportions. I took refuge in a mall, but knew I had to get back to my hotel for a tour, so I bought a cheap umbrella and headed back, making it just in time for my tour guide to pick me up.
My excursion today was a guided cruise on the Bosphorous, the channel between the Black and Marmara Seas. It is also the point at which Asia meets Europe. Joining me on the tour was a forty-something American man who lives and works in Saudi Arabia, a British soft butch and her Indian girlfriend, and then our Turkish tour guide. I liked that our group was more cosmopolitan and international than the many large and sheeplike American tour groups that I had seen milling around the city- the suburban men wearing their short pants with socks and sandals (oh the humanity) and their wives who screeched across crowded marketplaces something along the lines of, "Hey Herald, they have goat cheese and sheep skins for sale here!". Face palm.
Even though the weather was not ideal for a cruise, we had a jolly time. The scenery was beautiful, making me want to stay here even longer. Most of the city beyond the center is forested, and many wealthy Turks build cottages and lodges along the Bosphorous. There were also mansions, the sultan's palace, mosques, churches, and a Byzantine fortress that was overtaken by the Ottomans in the 15th century.

The sultan's palace.
The fortress.

The group was so small, and the cruise so long that we were able to hold a decent conversation. The man told us that Saudi Arabia basically sucks, and that as soon as possible he would try and leave. Originally from Houston, he has been living in the Kingdom for two years as an accountant for Aramco and resides in an expat compound in a smaller city of Khafji. When I told him I was studying in Egypt, he remarked (without any prompts) that Cairo was horribly dirty, but that Saudi Arabia is not much better. The worst parts about it, he explained are the lack of natural beauty, dirtiness, and the extreme and unparalleled gender segregation. He remarked that his office building does not even have a womens' bathroom. And I thought Egypt was bad . . .
After the cruise was over, we went to two mosques that were built approximately five hundred years ago. The first one looked exactly like the mosque of Mohammed Ali in Cairo (who was an Ottoman), but the second one was charming and small with special Turkish tiles throughout. I neglected to bring a headscarf, so I had to borrow one. Thankfully, it was clean and pressed, and the loan scarves came in many colors so I got to choose one that best fit my outfit. Some people have asked if I am bothered by veiling, but in reality, I feel that (at least in religious spaces) it is a sign of cultural respect. Veils were mandatory in catholic churches until Vatican II, and most other Abrahamic religions require headcoverings for men and women. The veil has become so politicized (for good reason in many cases where it is forced upon women in some fundamentalist countries), but I feel that a woman should have the choice whether to veil or not. For many women, the choice to veil is empowering.
The first mosque.

The second mosque.
Me.

After the tour I planned to go and see a Sufi music concert and whirling dervish performance in the downtown Sultanahmet area. When I walked there, however, I learned that the show was sold out. I was disappointed, but I had a backup plan. When I visited the bazaar down the street from my hotel, there was a large open air cafe with billboards advertising live music and a dervish performance. I was skeptical about its quality, but decided to go, thinking that at the very least I would have a satisfying meal. When I got there, the place was packed with Turks, and the music had already started. Then the dirvish man appeared. His twirling was hypnotic, and his eyes were half-open in a trance-like gaze. He moved rhythmically to the drumbeats as he alternately raised and lowered his hands, experiencing the intoxication of God.

The music continued for two and half hours, during which I ordered a "pancake" that was really a spinach crepe, some tea, and an apple-flavored water pipe. (Yes, for you Austin Powers fans: I had a smoke and a pancake).
The experience was amazing. I smoked (something that will not become a habit) to stave away the bone-chilling cold, and read a book that I had brought from home. A few older American couples at the cafe were charmed by my smoking hookah and took pictures of me on their cameras (and mine) to tell their friends about the little girl who picked up the waterpipe for the first time just to have the experience.




Did I also mention, that I didn't know how to use it, which tickled the waiters immensely."You haven't smoked before?", they asked amused at my naivete.
When the music ended, and the embers were dying in my pipe, I decided to call it a night, saying a brief goodbye to a cafe that provided me with an unforgettable evening.

Turkish bath

Warning: This post contains slightly embarrassing situations. Proceed with caution.

A nagging curiosity got the better of me, so I decided to put aside all of my American modesty and went to a Turkish bath. Every guide book and internet site declared that in order to get a true Turkish experience, you have to go to a hamami. For the most part, I am all for cultural immersion, and thought, 'though it may be awkward, this place is not going to kill me, so why avoid it?'. Therefore, I summoned up the courage and went.
A little bit of background first: Turkish baths are centuries-old institutions, and the particular bath that I chose was built in the 1400's. They can be compared to American spas (which was the appeal for me), because you can get manicures, pedicures, massages, and haircuts for cheap prices. Plus, they provide a relaxing atmosphere because they are architectural marvels that exude Ottoman charm and beauty. For Ottoman women, baths were a hub of social activity, because the hamami was often the only place that they were allowed to go outside of the house. There they could sit around and bathe, and chat with other women as a break from their seclusion within the home.
As I stood at the entrance, thinking about which treatment to get, I decided to go all out and get everything. Meanwhile, I prepared for the AWKWARD. Why, you ask? I was afraid that I would have to go the full monty. I soon learned that traditionally people bathed in the nude, but the major hamamis now provide bathers with special bikinis to wear (though many women decide to go topless). The baths are also gender segregated, preventing further awkward situations.
So I changed, and entered into the main bathing room, which is a domed heated chamber lit by skylights with hot water spigots all around. In the middle of the room is a circular stone slab that fit two dozen women lying down, as if sunbathing. A burly Eastern European woman, let's call her Brunehilda, came out of an adjacent chamber and barked at me to stretch out on the slab. Afraid to cross her, I scrambled onto the stone.
Then she started hurling buckets of hot water at me. I was trying so hard not to laugh at the oddity of this situation. Then she started slathering me with bubble bath foam and let me sit and soak. After a few minutes she came back and manhandled me until I was sitting upright, and then she dumped a bucket of hot water on my head. She was so scary! When my treatment was finally over, she led me to a warm pool where I was able to relax with some German women who were all topless and saggy (not a pretty picture), and then I had an amazing massage (not from Brunehilda). Later I dried off in a common room, surrounded by other women drinking tea or coffee, and reading or chatting with friends.
The experience is not one that I would recommend for the self-conscious and/or modest. It's an unholy cross between a nude beach and a spa, and the only way I was able to do it was to put all of my cultural inhibitions aside, and just go with the flow. I left feeling refreshed and glad that I braved the hamami, that although strange, did not kill me.

I'm a traveler, not a tourist

An Ottoman cemetery

Today was a spontaneous adventures in which I planned nothing, and let situations materialize. The day began with a splendid breakfast on the terrace of a nearby hotel, with views of the Bosphorous Sea and the Blue Mosque. Then I decided to just explore. My feet took me down side streets past ancient houses, through Sultanahmet Park, beside Hagia Sophia and The Blue Mosque. Then I found my way into a bustling downtown area where I walked right into an Ottoman cemetery. I stopped along the busy tramway thoroughfare to pick up a homemade Turkish sweet from a street stand, and freshly squeezed (in front of me) pomegranate juice. Later, I wandered back to Sultanahmet, and stood on an elevated platform to take pictures of the Blue Mosque in all its glory, when a troop of little girl dancers in full Turkish costume hopped up on a nearby stage and started dancing to the beat of a drum. I couldn't believe my luck!

Afterward, I was tired so I meandered back to my hotel where I took a nap, and then re-energized for some food. Just a few feet away from my hotel is a small cafe, and I sat down to have an eggplant and yogurt appetizer (tasty to the extreme) and a kebab plate (do you see a pattern here?) Nothing could really beat last night's meal, but it was, again, one of the best meals I've had in a long time. The waiter liked me so much that he gave me a vial of Turkish tea on the house.
And it didn't even cost me my honor. :)

Most Turkish men like me, which is rather bothersome, when I want to walk down the street in peace. I was reading on a website about women who were shocked at the street harassment in Istanbul, and I can only shake my head and wonder what they would think of Cairo. This is a much needed vacation from the leers and inappropriate comments I have endured from some Egyptian men.
Other than that, I have realized after numerous interaction with locals, that I pass for a Turk. In fact, most Turkish people think I am Turkish, and start speaking to me in their native tongue before noticing my confused express and switch to English. I like it.

The day isn't over, but I thought I would take advantage of a lull to write my blog entry. Now I'm planning on going to a Turkish bath, where hopefully I will have a not-too-traumatizing experience. I will write more later on that adventure.

A Turkish Delight on a Moonlit Night

Let me say up front, that Istanbul is one of the most amazing places that I have ever been in my entire life. I will qualify this statement later, but first I must relay the story of my journey. It is long, it is mostly unpleasant, but it provides great material.
Time- 5:30 am. I wake up to catch an early taxi to the airport. The ride is uneventful for a Cairo taxi (the cab has seatbelts and there are no "near" collisions). However the cab driver charges me not only for time he stopped to get gas, but also the gas itself. It was only $1 approx, but it's the principle of the thing.
Next, I get to the Cairo airport and experience great confusion over where to check-in, and am passed around from ticket booth to ticket booth until someone figures out that the check-in counter I want is not open. So much for getting to the airport early. In true Egyptian fashion, the ticket booth employees arrive only an hour before boarding time.
A side note: I spent about two hours waiting for the check-in counter to open, and was wowed by the cleverness of the flight announcements. Before announcing a flight to France, they would play Edith Piaf, for Italy, Andrea Boccelli, for Spain, matador music, and so on and so forth.

When I get to the gate, I sit down and wait some more and then the power goes out in the airport. Again, typically Egypt.
The seating area is filled with a group of Japanese who amusedly watch overdramatic Egyptian soap operas, and again I think about the strange situations that globalization creates.
When I finally get on the plane, I am seated next to a most temperamental Australian, who rudely yells at the woman behind him for pushing his seat when she is settling her bags underneath. For the rest of the flight, he continues to be unpleasant.
But it doesn't really matter, because I get to see amazing views of the Mediterranean and Turkey. After being deprived of natural beauty for so long, I almost cry when we pass over the blue sea sparkling with the reflection of the sun, and the Anatolian mountains reaching up into the clouds.

I also get to eat one of the most amazing meals (Turkish airplane food) that I have had in the last two months. That's not saying very much for Egyptian cuisine, by the way.
When I arrive in Turkey, I obtain my visa in thirty seconds flat, but have to wait for almost an hour to go through a passport check. Then when I leave customs, I see dozens of people waving signs for passenger pick-up, but I do not see my name. After half an hour I almost give up hope, and ask a tourist information desk worker about alternate routes to my hotel. He suggests the subway, and I politely decline, and decide to wait a little longer for my hotel shuttle. Fortunately, my persistance pays off.

(now I'm going to switch to past tense, because I'm tipsy, and I'm not sure I can handle present tense any longer . . . too confusing!)
Good thing I waited, because I was able to enjoy the company of a Swiss woman and her teenage son who are vacationing at my hotel and had just arrived from Zurich for their week long getaway.
The ride was a long one despite the fifteen kilometer distance, and I was able to see Istanbul in the way only a long car ride can give. The city is very modern, very European, and (with Egypt as my reference point) very very clean. As for the people, we passed school girls, men in business suits, Aeropostle-clad teenagers, light-skinned mothers wearing hijab hurrying their blond children down the street, and women wearing short skirts and tight shirts. At the risk of sounding like an Orientalist, it really seems like a place where East meets West. Fitting for a city that straddles two continents and was once the focal point of an empire that stretched across three.
How do I describe Istanbul? Or, specifically the area around my hotel, that encompasses the "old city?" I would have to say, for those of you who have been to Georgetown, or another quaint cobblestone colonial (i.e. 17th, 18th century) neighborhood or city on a body of water; just imagine it with some Islamic architecture, and you pretty much have the general picture. In other words, it is adorable.

To end my day, I decided to treat myself to a celebratory dinner at a ethnic fusion restaurant right down the street from my hotel. The place was as nice as one of the trendiest restaurants in Manhattan, and the decor was very contemporary.

I ordered myself a nice glass of white wine, and a kebab platter with rice which was amazing, making it the second meal today that ranks on the top four meals I have eaten in the last two months.
For those of you interested, here's the list:
1) Marriot Hotel-Zamalek, Cairo
2) Mrs. Keshk's house- Maadi, Cairo
3) Dubb ethnic cuisine- Istanbul
4) Turkish airlines food- 40,000 feet above sea level.

Afterward, emboldened by a little bit of alcohol, I decided to walk the area around my hotel and found a Turkish bazaar. It was just what I would expect from a bazaar: oriental rugs, lanterns, scarves, statuettes, and plates. Though, it wasn't tacky . . .
It was truly enjoyable despite the fact that I got catcalls from Turkish men, who are not quite as hostile or aggressive in their pursuit of women ( a generalization, I know) as Egyptian men seem to be, but still a bit annoying. I got calls of "sweetheart, are you lost?" or just men calling from cafes saying "hello, hello, salud" or any other greeting in as many languages as they knew in order to get my attention. This, I find, is the unavoidable experience of being a single woman traveler.
Anyway, I can sum up my day as "exhausting", and my brief time in Istanbul as "amazing".

Turkey: It's not just a bird

Does anyone object to my writing about Turkey in a blog called "Ari in Egypt"? If you don't mind, that's exactly what I will be doing in less than a week. :)

After finding out that I actually have a five day weekend for Egyptian armed forces day, I spontaneously planned an entire trip to Istanbul (not Constantinople) by myself. YES, by myself. Everyone should calm down, though, because my hotel has arranged for my airport pickup, and I will be touring the old city and going on a four-hour cruise on the Black Sea with a tour group. I will also be going to a Turkish bath (sounds sketchy, I know) to sit in a hot tub the day after I arrive. Getting away from Egypt and experiencing another culture will improve my morale and bolster my ability to get by for the next two and a half months in Egypt. Hopefully I will get there and back with no problems (worries which plague my restless mind).

Planning this escape was the highlight of my week, and now the complaining will commence:

The reason that I have not written a blog entry for a few days is that there have been rolling blackouts across the city. Somehow, the outages screwed up the server so that I was not able to get online until a few hours after the power went back on. Even the entire AUC campus was blacked out for two hours, which made it very difficult for me to retrieve an essay that I sent to myself by e-mail. Thus, I barely made the deadline. (The teacher for that class is a psycho, and she most likely would not have considered the blackouts an excuse.)

Lack of sleep has also been a problem for me, because I barely got to rest last weekend, and I have been subsisting on five to six hours of sleep a night for the last two weeks. I literally felt like I was going to pass out in class on Wednesday. Therefore, I made the decision to opt out of an excursion to Mt. Sinai and St. Catherine's monastery. I learned that we would be leaving Thursday night on an overnight bus trip that would then drop us off at St. Catherine's, and later at 2:00 am we would start the two to three hour hike up the mountain to see the sunrise. I was really looking forward to this trip. However, my health is most important to me, and I thought about the sleep that I have already lost, plus the two nights I probably would not sleep on that trip, plus the two days of school that would follow, and then add on the four days in Istanbul. Also, for those of you who know me, I am not a hiker and I was not ready to re-enact my own private version of Troop Beverly Hills in the middle of the night in the Egyptian desert. All of these factors were part of my decision, and I don't regret it. The timing was just not right, though it is disappointing that I couldn't go.

Other complaints that I will keep brief:

1) No hot water for the last week and half. Though this problem is undermined by the fact that the temperature continues to be in the upper 90's.

2) I ordered a lunch that I thought would be a platter of falafel, ful (refried beans), eggs, and french fries only to discover that the meal was all of those items squished into a pita. It was truly revolting.

3) My bus driver didn't feel like running the 2:00p.m. route from school, so I had to wait another hour to go home.

4) The travel office at AUC could not even help me figure out how to arrange transport from my apartment to the Cairo airport for Tuesday.

Highlights that are worth mentioning (to counterbalance the complaints):

1) At the CSA (expat community center) I enjoyed a pasta dinner with WINE on Wednesday. The wine was truly delicious, but then I remembered that I had to walk all the way back to my apartment in the heat. Perhaps it was not the best idea, but it was a little slice of heaven.

2) I am about to sign up for a Thanksgiving trip with the CSA to the Bahariya oasis (a resort area) and the White desert. According to the brochure, the trip includes a bedouin night, swimming, a Thanksgiving party, a safari in the desert, and watching the sunset on a mountain that I don't have to climb. The price is reasonable for a three day trip, so I think that I will sign up.

3) I'm a rockstar in my Arabic class. This is probably because I am one of the only people who does homework, but I feel good about outshining people from better ranked institutions. It just goes to show that it doesn't matter where you go to school, it's what you make of it. Also, it shows that Lawrence is a first class institution of higher education, even if it does not have a widespread reputation.

4) Egypt turns the clocks back for "fall back" on October 1st, so I gained an hour of sleep this weekend.

That's about it for now. I have assuaged my guilt about not keeping up my blog, and now I will go to sleep. Goodnight.