It is hard to say goodbye.
Of course, I have been complaining about Cairo a bit recently. But as soon as you realize that you're really leaving a place, nostalgia kicks in.
I don't regret a minute of this trip. Up and moving to a foreign country for five months is not something that most people will have the chance to do in their lives. I feel lucky.
When I think about what will happen next in my life--how I am supposed to get a "real job", perhaps one with paid vacation (probably 2 weeks at most), I can't help but question everything. It seems to me that many Americans with a "good job" just look forward all year to the things they might do in those two weeks.
The truth is, I don't feel that I should wait until I retire to see the world or until I have "enough money" or two short weeks of vacation, or until I feel secure or I have this job or that car or whatever. I am actually living my dream right now.
Ever since I was a 7-year-old-kid with an inexplicable obsession with Finland (thank you Charlotte public libraries for indulging me with your collection of books on the country), I have always been curious about the people, places, and things I read about. I escaped to different times and faraway countries everyday. And I knew that I would find a way to get there, someday.
People have always questioned this curiosity.
As a 7-year-old, it was "Why Finland?"
My answer? "Um, did you know that at some points in the year it NEVER gets dark in Finland?"
And now, it's "Why Egypt?" or "Why Arabic?"
My answer: "Why not?"
My journey started with my decision to major in International Studies with a focus on Middle Eastern Culture and Arabic Language. I had a vague inclination that there was more to life for me than staying in the U.S., and Spanish classes got boring when people in college were clearly just taking them to meet requirements. I wanted a challenge. Thus: Arabic. And oh, boy, is it a challenge!
Plus, although I do HATE politics, I realized that as an American I have the luxury of being distanced from the problems of the rest of the world. American soil hasn't seen war since the Civil War, yet we have engaged in many wars in faraway countries. A few years ago I thought, "maybe it would be a good idea to pay a bit of attention to a region where my government is constantly involved".
I also find that it is easy to sympathize with a neighbor, friend, cousin, etc., but it is not easy to sympathize with someone halfway across the world who speaks a different language and ascribes to a different religion.
I can easily choose to be ignorant about the rest of the world. That is a privilege. But in 'developing' countries, there is no such privilege. People concern themselves with America because they have no choice. Images of American celebrities are plastered everywhere, even in Egypt. People know American bands and movies. (People compare me to Kristen Stewart here, too, unfortunately). Many people are trying to learn English.
Do most Americans appreciate Arabic music? No. Do they know the names of Egyptian actors? No. Despite the booming movie industry here, Americans, for the most part, just. have. no. clue.
I am not trying to hate on America. Actually, I have come to appreciate my own country more since traveling here. But I also think that I needed a healthy dose of I-am-not-the-center-of-the-universe. It is refreshing to be the ignorant, silly American here sometimes. To be the butt of the joke. Because it takes a while to figure out how to get around, how to buy things, how to do anything in a foreign country. And it is a humbling experience that has taught me to laugh at myself.
People naturally assume that what is normal in their culture is the universal "normal" unless they are exposed to something different. However, before getting out of the U.S. I pretentiously felt that the "American way" was deeply flawed. I felt that I grew up missing something. I felt a longing to discover more history. For the most part, our history books start in the 1600's with the European "discovery" of America and a brief mention of Native Americans. I felt that I was somehow missing out on culture. A desire to assimilate runs deep in America; throughout American history, groups have immigrated from all over the world and tried to assimilate to keep from being ostracized. (Remember when Irish immigrants were the "other" in American society? No. I don't either. And what does being a "bit Irish", mean to anyone except on St. Patrick's day, the one day of the year when it's a reason for Americans, "a bit Irish" or not, to get wicked drunk.)
Being here, I have also realized that I glamorized other countries. There does not exist a perfect country, a perfect culture, a Utopia. Yes, there is racism in Europe and Egypt and probably everywhere; only the groups change. But for me, discovering a way of life that makes me happy means being exposed to other ways of life and therefore having more choices about how I will live my life.
For example, Egyptians generally are much more laid back about time, appointments, etc. Even telling the time in Arabic, you kind of just approximate or round up or down instead of saying the exact time.
While living here is hectic and crowded, it is also relaxing. People are generally more community oriented. I went to a shop on my birthday and had some time to kill before heading to the restaurant above for a birthday-dinner. I looked around for a while and the shop owner was very helpful. When I tried to check out, he invited me to sit and have tea with him and his daughter.
It was no scheme to sell me things. I was already going to buy things. He just wanted to have a chat. He sat, casually sewing cushions by hand, and talked to me about his life: how he studied fine art in Cairo and Italy as a youngster and how he loves his shop, a shop that he opened 23 years ago. (It was my 23rd birthday! I interpreted this as a "happy birthday!" message from the universe. :)
I will really miss all the times/ways/places I have been offered tea here. Really--if I sit somewhere, anywhere, in Cairo for long enough, someone will offer me tea. And I have just gotten cozy here! I have started to dress more like an Egyptian without really noticing.
See what I mean? And I'm eating foul, no less. Delicious, delicious foul.
As an artist, I appreciate Egypt's visual culture immensely. Check out my Hamsa hand necklace! For goodness sake, it is not just beautiful but also protects me from the evil eye.
I fell in love with Arabic script as soon as I started learning it and there are always moments when I'm looking at something in Arabic and say to myself "Wow! I can read this!"
I really do believe that "You life a new life for every new language you speak. If you only know one language, you only live once." (Supposedly this is a Czech proverb). And I haven't just been exposed to Egyptians and Arabic here. I have met people from all over the world--France, Greece, Germany, Norway, Sweden, Korea, Russia, to name a few places. A woman from Korea once started a conversation with me on the metro and gave me several granola bars. (I'm not really sure either. But it was nice.) I love to listen to people's traveling stories--how severe people are in Vienna, how the temples are beautiful in Cambodia, what it is like to ride an elephant.
And I finally rode horses in the desert here. Completely amazing. With the pyramids off to my right and the glittering city behind me, I felt transported to another time.
What more is there to life, honestly? I have a travel bug and I have no doubt that it will take me across the world. But I hope that I can spend more than a few days here and there. What I have enjoyed most about Egypt is feeling that I have a new home-away-from-home. I didn't just run to the pyramids, buy a scarf in Luxor and call it a trip. I drank from the Nile, and as they say, it means that I will return.
I am also really looking forward to my new life in New York, an incredibly unique place that is a jumble of cultures. The most important thing I have learned on this trip is that the more I learn about the world, the more I realize I don't know.
