Pictures and an extended recap of the past 3 months

Egyptian graffiti

Morning light with friends

We bonded through our love for earrings, water colors, and braids.

Only 3 months have passed since my first landing in Egypt, my unexpected frantic return to Arkansas, and my initially unwanted return to Egypt. Today, this return has turned from unwanted plane rides and confusion, to the realization that this is to be within my narrative. Thanks has been given to a renewal of spirit and eagerness to fall in love in a culture that at times has frightened my spirituality, caused enormous amounts of laughter, smiles, tears, increased my curiosity to understand the blurriness of my Western lens, and a willingness to allow myself to be molded into a woman with less blinders and fear.

This is a small recap of small conversations in the land of the desert wanderers.

Upon my first arrival in Egypt, I was greeted with hands of hospitality through offerings of rides and directions and the occasional water and tea biscuit to curb fainting spells on the metro. I believe my metro incident deserves reincarnation since it has been the highlight of my adventure, as of yet.

This incident rejuvenated my likings to the words repeated in Sunday schools, love your neighbor as yourself, but not fully realized on a daily basis. It was verbally thrown around in conversations, but in actual life it was either done through guilty conscious ticks or avoided due to self-preservation requirements of the repeated childhood lecture of “don’t talk to strangers.”

The Egyptian women on the metro seemed to have avoided this preschool lecture of looking the other way, when I hit the floor due to my forgetfulness regarding the need of water on 3 hour walks through Cairo. I awoke to beautiful colors whirling around my face and hands picking me up and brushing of my clothes. Soon, I found myself with a seat, someone’s personal water bottle in hand, and kind smiles and concerned eyes directed toward an embarrassed, abnormally pale, American women. As I attempted to quell their concern through my newly adapted but not recognizable Arabic, the offerings of help continued until I arrived at my metro stop.

Once I exited from the metro car, I quickly found a cement chair and awaited my friends to depart from the next metro. Before they arrived, another woman approached me and offered me more tea biscuits. She had been farther down the metro car and was unable to offer her hospitality until we both departed at the same stop. Even though I was calming my nauseous stomach and dizzy eyes, all I could do was grin at the loving women who become surrogate mothers to a dehydrated stranger.

This was my first experience at Egyptian hospitality, but it was by far not the last. This has been the fine lining in many conversations and celebrations in Cairo; as well as, comforting conservations to my grandmother who found relief in knowing that I was not alone.

My grandmother is another reason I find myself on this journey to Egypt and to my unexpected return to Arkansas only 2 months after my arrival. This glorious women whose heart remained entirely open to others and was my definition of family, encouraged my leanings of international dwellings and childhood gymnastic dreams. She refused to limit my choices and remained steadfast in her words; “Go live your life, I’ve lived mine.”

She fell ill within the first few weeks of my arrival, possibly due to depression caused by our seperation or 60 years of inhaling cigarettes that left her lungs wanting or comfort in knowing that I can take care of myself so she could pass on and find relief from the pain in her body. Maybe it was a combination of all these factors that led to a phone call from my pseudo-adopted mother telling me I needed to hurry home. Through multiple frantic calls to other service workers and relatives, a hectic ride through Cairo night traffic, the acquirement of a ticket home, and the calming voices of newly formed friends, I soon found myself sitting in the airport 2 hours later waiting to board my plane.

I’ll leave out my difficult and humorous travel home, as well as, the lead heart that I acquired during my grandmother’s passing to another time. For now my focus is not on the happenings in Arkansas, but on my life in Egypt.

The return and welcome home by the other MCCers was beautiful, but honestly and regrettably, I chose not to see it during my first week. Slowly through new arrangements, my eyes were pulled opened to the beautiful life that is possible anywhere, and especially in Egypt.

An illustration of Egyptian beauty is the early mornings in Cairo. They are magnificent in the fall; the crisp air flows in from the balcony to where I sit and type this small excerpt and sip peach, black tea. The children below are running up and down the street without inhibitions that sometimes come with adulthood. The streets are lined with fruit and vegetables, bikes, trucks, cars, and families that inquire with genuine interest towards the new inhabitant of their street.

Of course, the daily stares can become mounting on days where you wish you could blend in, but with my typical Anglo-Saxon appearance it is impossible. So, I have found that humor is required daily, especially towards my walks home and my sluggish learning of Arabic.

Recently, I spent a 20 minute taxi ride laughing with the driver at my inability to communicate why I was in Egypt and where I was trying to direct him. I found myself speaking a combination of Arabic, Spanish, and English all smothered in my banjo accent from the little natural state of Arkansas. I did arrive to my destination and thanked him repeatedly for his patience, and again, hospitality.

It would be easy to focus on the negative aspects of any culture and sometimes that is necessary, but right now my attempt is to rediscover my sometimes lost, 16 year old girlish, idealistic belief in the good of mankind and the creation that we find ourselves within, regardless of where we currently are geographically.

Anne Lamont wrote, “I do not at all understand the mystery of grace - only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us.”

This has been my small, 3 month, interrupted, loving, and tumultuous conversation with Cairo.