So... Egyptians are not consistent with their spelling. Even the name of their own country. It uses three letters in Arabic, none of which are vowels, so when they write it in English, it's either "Mosr" or "Misr."
I went to Faiyoum (?) with the wonderful Maryam Mosa for a few days. She is so sweet, and she invited me to stay in her village for a few days. Her village is actually called Byada, but it's close to Faiyoum. We took a minibus to the metro, where we then got another minibus that took us to Faiyoum. Then we took what looked like a mix between a hearse and a pizza truck into Byada. From there we took a tktk (Yes, I just spelled a word without vowels) to Maryam's house. If a car and a tricycle could have a baby, it would be a tktk. I don't know how else to explain it. Or I guess I could describe it as an olive with three wheels and curtains instead of doors. Before I had even met Maryam's dad, he was already telling her that I am his daughter and he was so excited to have me come over. The floors were cement, and I could smell the farm animals from the second I stepped in the house. The ants made loud crunching noises when I stepped on them. I began to love her house. As she described it, it was very simple, but it was so nice. The irrigation system seemed to be pretty effective in Byada because I had not seen so much green since Holland. There were palm-ish trees all over, green fields, cows, donkeys, and all other kinds of animals. I saw boys racing on donkeys down the road. It was so funny to me. Donkeys can't gallop beautifully like horses can. It just looks awkward when they try. We wore gallabeas (Egyptian dresses) and walked around on Maryam's farm. We fed her cows and ate green things (I have no idea what their called in Arabic, let alone English...) It was different to me, and I loved it. She knew everyone that we passed, and they were all so friendly. I realized that even if I had lived in Egypt my entire life, I still wouldn't know how many times to kiss the women on the cheek. I think it's two, and then they go for the third. I go for the third, and they go for six. All the meanwhile they are saying things like "Om le'e (How are you?)" "Al Humdilallah..." and other things. I was confused, but they were really sweet. The people were so wonderful. They all wanted me to come over, and they were so concerned with if I was eating enough and if I was comfortable. I realized that I show hardly any concern for my own guests (let alone my neighbors' guests!) compared to what these people showed me. They all invited me to stay for Christmas, and they were so hospitable and wonderful. I really liked being there. Maryam and I went upstairs, past where the chickens and ducks live, onto the roof and talked. We leaned up against the "dove" (pigeon) house and looked off into the distance at a man galloping on a donkey while talking on his cell phone. The roofs are all so close together that you don't really even need streets. You could just walk from roof to roof. It was so cool. I felt like I was in a book. Maryam's dad would ask me in Arabic whose daughter I am. "Ana binte Mosa." I really liked Maryam's sister Reda and her family. We got to cook a lot too. It was such a good time.
I kept seeing this cute little girl named Myrna looking at me, so I asked her her name. I didn't know where Maryam went, so I stepped outside just to walk in front of the house, and Myrna said something to some kids around the corner, and all these little boys came running and stopped when they saw me. It was so cute. They all ran to see the pale American in a red gallabea. I was embarrassed about how little Arabic I knew. I didn't even know how to say hi to a group... and then when I thought about it, it was probably just the same because "SabaH el khyer" and "Ahilan" don't seem conjugated. I wrote, "Here comes Myrna again. She's peering in the doorway. Now she's watching me write and she has no idea that I am writing about her."
I felt bad having Maryam come all the way back to Gabal with me to bring me back to the school, so I tried to convince her to just take me to the minibus that is headed for El Marg, and I would be fine from there, but she refused because I am her sister. I fell asleep in the minibus, and when I woke up, she told me that the man next to her was asking if we were married and kept trying to talk to her. She leaned away from him, and he said, "Don't worry. I don't bite. I have two wives at home." Yeah, and what's a third to you, buddy? Gross. The man to her left and then men in front of us kept staring at us. I kept my eye on her to make sure that he wasn't trying to touch her leg or anything. Anytime that we talked or even whispered, the man in front of us would turn around and smile and try to listen. Go away, you weirdo. And then soon they were all talking in Arabic about how we "were talking about them" and were trying to get her to talk to them, so she told me that it was best if she and I stopped talking. What creeps. The guy in front asked her if I liked Egypt. She nodded. He said that he would "put me in his mind," which in Arabic means that he would take good care of me. Turn around. The man with two wives told her that she was very beautiful. They kept asking why she was so "hard" and why she wouldn't talk. I didn't want to answer my phone when someone called because I wanted to avoid as much attention as possible. She said that they didn't say anything bad - it was all okay, but she really had no business talking to them. At the end of the ride, they told her that they were mad at her and me, but mostly her because she is Egyptian and should have talked to them. Boo hoo.
I am really trying to avoid stereotyping people based on their religions because I have much closer contact with the Christians, but as far as the guys on the streets go, the Christians haven't bothered me. This could be because there are 9x as many Muslims as Christians, so it would only make sense that more Muslims bother me. But I can't help but consider what kind of influence a religion that openly declares in its holy book that women are not as valuable as men has on the people. If I am property, why would you respect me as your equal? That reminds me of when I was talking to Maryam's sister Reda and her husband Nasr. I said something about how a man will go to prison for hitting his wife in America. Nasr asked, "And what if she hits him?" I proudly responded that she could go to prison too because everyone is equal. He laughed. I love equality. I mean, things are not perfectly equal, but according to the law, we're equal, and I just love it so much. I was planning on listening to Lee Greenwood's "Proud to be an American" (thank you, Jordan) on the way back, but I soon discovered that my iPod was dead. Oh well. I'll save it for another time and probably cry. haha. But maybe.
I miss Jessica and Krista. I love them so much.
My parents and Rafaela are coming to visit soon! I can't wait. I'm trying to plan as much as I can in advance so that I am not stressed out when they get here. We're going to go into Gabal and get Koshary, take a minibus and the metro somewhere, go to Khan El Khalili, go with Mina and Abanoub to Alexandria. We're also going to go to Aswan and Luxor, to the Cairo Museum, and the pyramids. There's too much to see everything in Egypt, but we'll get a lot done. I am already preparing myself for being frustrated with untimely transportation and for people ripping us off. My dad said that they are bringing my two bags of walnuts. Al Humdilallah. (Praise be to God.) I've been so sincerely concerned about my omega-3s. I know how pathetic I sound, but I am really excited for that. Plus, I want to see how all these guys act around my dad because they're always joking about how they're going to go call "Amu Joooohn" whenever I put them in their place. They love to joke around with him, but they will probably be dead silent. haha. Well, goodnight.
