I had my first cry this morning.
They say the good comes with the bad. I am yet to experience the good that comes with losing my luggage and as each day goes by I get more and more annoyed (and desperate to be around my own things), that I have to spend money on things that I already have in my luggage.
They say the luggage has no record in the system
Great.
I have woken this morning in the grip of a cold. My throat is sore and my nose alternates between blocked and running like Huka Falls. I feel lousy and the worst part is I don’t really know where to go to get the things I want, in order to help me feel better, like I would in New Zealand. I think its times like this when vulnerability creeps in.
So I sat in my bed in tears after a sleepless night as the rave on level three boomed away until the Call to Prayer started at 5.20. That seemed to stop the music - thankfully. So I start my day with about 45 minutes of sleep. I am meant to go to school tomorrow and then to the Red Sea; which I really want to do. I am not sure if I should sit in a van with five others, for five hours, when I am not well.
Bummer
My first job today is to tell this to Amr - that the guy lied about how loud he would play his music. Then get coffee.
Sleep is vital.
I will not last here if I cannot sleep, but mostly I want to break my apartment lease sooner rather than later if this is going to be an issue. I already like my apartment though on Street 14 in Maadi, Degla - I love the little balcony that looks over the cobbled courtyard that has various colours of Bougainvilia growing up trees in it. I have visions of having a wee table there; growing some herbs in the balcony pots that are currently being used as ashtrays, and opening the doors in the mornings to let the day in.
I love how cats hang out on the outdoor furniture there and how I get snapshots of people going about their day as they pass by the front gate, providing me with a framed view.
That’s some of the good stuff - but the bad stuff is what makes or breaks things.
Add to that the monumental cleaning job ahead of me today cleaning up after a (slob) teacher’s mess (think first year Dunedin student, but grown adult teacher at a posh international school - confused yet? I am). And these people stand in front of kids and tell them what to do - yet cannot seem to even manage their own homes. How do they manage a classroom?
I feel beaten down today. I have a sore neck from sleeping on pillows the size of suitcases. I think about attacking them and emptying out all the filling to an acceptable width.
Am I crazy?
So that’s the bad part. This too shall pass (unless of course I continue to live in a Rave venue for 16 months).
My second job is to find some shoes and clothes today - oh and a yoga mat. Shopping here is interesting - and think fashion ten years ago. Also think old European stores of 100 years ago when you would order your stuff and point it out and someone will get it for you then send you to a counter to pay, whilst your items miraculously appear by the front door.
It’s quaint. I guess.
I just need some work clothes and some hiking shoes. But where to even start. And then to get more coffee.
My day begins.
The Call to Prayer resounds through the emerging morning like an ethereal echo. I like it. Dogs settle down from their night-time barking ensemble and doves begin to coo-coo in the day. The sounds of traffic and horns begin to promulgate and outside I hear voices as people launch into their animated, heavily gesticulated conversations - usually in the middle of a road as cars squeeze around them, plus the dog lying there also.
I am reminded of Kathmandu; I am reminded of Nepalese people in fact - there is a weird similarity and I figure this is why I feel strangely familiar here in this vast country of sand.
There is also an off juxtaposition of rich living alongside poor - whilst there are many people riding in donkeys and carts these are vastly out-numbered by late model cars - Jeep, Tesla, Porsche, Chevrolet, Mercedes, BMW. Flash cars parked along the sides of the streets alongside some guy in a wheel chair who is genuinely messed up, right in the way of traffic on a corner, who I am told, is plonked there in the evening to beg. His handlers take the money and then bundle him into a car and replace him during the day with a different guy who just sits and begs.
This is life here.
People hustle for the last pound yet walk around with the latest iPhone.
Dogs laze about in the sun all day only to come to life and form packs as the days heat tempers - barking and roaming the streets - puppies in tow. They are harmless to people but I can see how they could be intimidating. There are many locals here who feed the local dogs. People seem to care. I saw a guy yesterday at the Citadel in Cairo, giving lots of food and loves to a group of dogs there. Cats though, out-number dogs (unlike Nepal where I barely saw any cats).
Cats and kittens, skinny but always optimistic about securing a random ear scratch and then perhaps a cosy knee to sit on and share their ticks, fleas and lice with. I think of my fur-boy in the cattery for another few weeks yet until his new owners come to collect him (and how I feel so bad that he is locked in cat prison) - but then I see these animals here who just want a home and some love.
“Cafe Cat” at the Caribou Cafe in Maadi.
People in Egypt conduct their lives very publicly, it seems to me. They don’t go to bed at what I would call a ‘reasonable hour’. The evenings are a time to be social, and people walk the streets, sit on the side walks (if there is one), on the sides of the roads, in cafes, in shop doors - and they talk; they hangout; they drink coffee; they smoke (cigarettes are $1.50 a pack here - everyone smokes!); they laugh; they gesticulate; they shop. Shops stay open really late - some until the early hours of the morning - so me shopping for sheets and blankets at 10 pm last night was not unusual.
I don’t know how long it will take me to get settled in. It is difficult without my things around me - my clothes; my stuff - so it makes it hard to get into the grove of food shopping to stock my fridge or to even think about the things I need to exist in a house here - simple things like that darn cheese slicer that was in my freebie garage sale when I left New Zealand. Having to replace the mundane items of life, is tedious and uses way too much energy. Speaking of energy use, I have not exercised since leaving NZ -and this too gets to me as I ease myself in here. I have found my yoga family at Osana Yoga here in Maadi and I will be there as soon as I can, but to have to take someone with me to go walk in the Wadi Degla is not something that fills me with great joy. I want to walk alone - especially in a demanding job like teaching, being alone is a vital way for me to recharge. The Nile River is a 15-20 minute walk from my apartment - I can see I will be going there after work as my go-to if I don’t do yoga. Just something to offer me a short respite from the chaos.
I guess I will find my groove.
At least I have found good choices for coffee - I cannot say yet I have found coffee that equates to NZ standards, but its a start and there are plenty of choices to be had here in Maadi.
In fact I have consumed barely any coffee since leaving and even resorted to Turkish coffee the other day. Never again.
Some clouds gather overhead and yesterday I asked my guide how often it rains in Cairo - he said four times a year.
I wonder how the trees in Maadi can survive with so little rain - the vibrant bouganvillia which is prolific here - how does it hold onto water? I am guessing people water their plants frequently, and in fact people are really into plants in pots here - indoor, outdoor, and they’re cheap! I have ordered some plants to pick up today and five big potted plants cost me $6 each. These are BIG plants, not the small starter plants you find at Mitre 10.
I look at the clouds through my bedroom window and the colours of the morning reflecting off them, throwing hues outward which creates a glow on the surrounding buildings.
I can hear people talking loudly below and the faint sound of traffic. Maadi is far enough away from the chaos tat it feels quiet in comparison.
Coffee is calling.