Constructing Kasun, Educator

It’s a nostalgic moment, one that is producing some dissonance for me as well.  I’m about to leave Egypt, and I find myself not wating to go.  I don’t want to stay here forever, but there’s so much left to see.  I’ve also been treated incredibly well by the Fulbright office here in Cairo, and, more specifically, our Egyptian academic advisor and the woman who oversees our program from the Fulbright office.  These two women have accompanied us throughout the trip and have been very open about answering our questions, even very difficult and critical ones.  They have also made sure that we have not had to worry about the smaller problems related to our always comfortable accomodations, delicious meals, and access to Egyptian points of interest.

Last night, our groups split into two and visited two different Egyptian families.  We went to my academic advisor’s and met her husband, her son Amr (nine), and her daughter Salma (six).  They couldn’t have been more gracious.  They live in one of the nicest districts of Cairo, complete with landscaped sidewalks (an anomoly in most parts of otherwise gray and sandy Cairo) and upscale shopping.  Their apartment, on the seventh floor of their building, was mostly white and decorated with a minimal amount of furniture.  An Egyptian soccer team was playing a Tunisian team last night on television, and the men (Egyptian and American) gathered around to watch, while the women sat on the classical-looking sofa and chairs and talked (after a quick trip to Salma’s bedroom where we were introduced to her various toys and got to look at her class picture from the German school she attends).  I felt so welcome in her home and really enjoyed being around her bright and funny kids.  It felt so nice to feel both normal and welcome. 

I prepare to leave for Israel tomorrow.  I am frustrated that there’s so much more I want to learn here but also realize the summer can’t go on forever and that my life back home is waiting for me (and I miss my family and friends!).  I’ve gotten used to things here.  I suppose in the stages of cultural adjustment I’ve just hit the “honeymoon” phase, and, I am fully aware that I’m experiencing Egypt at its very best—with excellent guides, wonderful accommodations, among interesting people.  Nonetheless, I don’t want to go away from the dusty streets, the men in their long robes (some, not all Egyptians wear these), the European-styled buildings, the pharoanic influence of history on contemporary life.  I will miss these warm people and their eagerness to help me out.  I will miss koshary—a national dish of rice, vermicelli, chick peas, lentils and fried onions topped with a tomato sauce.  I’ll miss the strange traffic and chaotic order of the streets where men on bicycles pass by with large sheets of bread pitas on their heads.  I’ll miss the ancient taxis in their black and white paint jobs.  I’m even romanticizing the incessant beeping of car horns.  So long, old country.  I hope to return one day.

This entry was posted on Sunday, July 22nd, 2007 at 10:43 am and is filed under Egypt, education. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.