Friday, March 15, 2024
The Whale Graveyard
Saturday, March 9, 2024
Magic
Wednesday, January 31, 2024
Stuff
The wind blows in from the Sahara, across the Nile Valley, bringing, surprisingly, rain and cold. When it doesn’t, a heavy fog sits on the city most mornings, suffocating it, clogging the streets, obscuring buildings. The Egyptians call it fog. Others would call it air pollution. The smoke comes from the palm plantations outside of town, I am told. I've also heard Cairiens burn pretty much anything they can get their hands on to keep warm this time of year. It is cold. Much colder than I thought it would be.
Everyone wears a scarf and a black puffer jacket. I have one, too, from Cotopaxi, and sometimes get mistaken as a member of the puffer jacket brigade. Truth be told, we could all pass as Egyptians. Especially Sam, and passers-by often holler at us in Arabic on the street.
Egyptians wrap the scarf around their heads and faces. Especially when on a windshield-less motorbike or waiting on the side of the road for a passenger van to pick them up, utilizing hand signals to communicate their destinations in a complex dialogue between potential passenger and driver: fingers in a 'V' to signal the Pyramids or Giza, three fingers for the third bridge over the Nile. I cant pretend to know them all and feel lucky I have a mode of transportation that doesn't require me to rely on sign language or hand signals.
I'm becoming increasingly convinced we will all emerge from the time with some kind of low-level, simmering PTSD. We respond to breaking reports differently here than we might have in the States or even Sri Lanka. The first thing Elise asked me when she came downstairs the other morning was, "Did you read the news?" Always an ominous way to start the day. A drone attack in Jordan killed three U.S. servicemen. Most people don't have to worry how that might affect their day or alter their morning commute. It will be nice to once again be able to relegate such headlines to background noise. To not always have to wonder if today's headline will be the one that finally breaks the camel's back and force us to move just as we were getting settled.
It took us longer to get settled here than it has after previous moves. We left a lot in Sri Lanka, but not having our stuff for six months didn't help much either. Our shipments from Sri Lanka (including the air shipment in previous moves arrived two weeks after we landed) didn't arrive until right before Christmas. We unpacked and set up the Christmas tree at the same time. At the end of the day, we dont really need any of these material possessions. My employer makes sure we have pots and pans, dishes and silverware, sheets and towels. But none of it is ours. What I learned this move is that even if you don't need that stuff, it's almost impossible to call a new place home without it. There is a feeling of belonging that comes being surrounded by your stuff, objects that are familiar, that serve specific purposes, or specifically do not serve any purpose whatsoever except that they belong to you.
I don’t know what it was for me that helped me feel settled. I don't know if I could identify one item. I move with my guitar (used to be my dad's) even though I don't have time to play anymore. It sits on the floor in my closet but at least I know where it is now and know it is not sitting in a shipping container somewhere being targeted by Houthis. I move with a record player and half my collection of vinyl which has now become Sam and I's collection of vinyl. It's heavy. Everything we own has an opportunity cost in weight since we only get to move so many pounds of worldly goods around the world. The vinyl seems a good use of that weight. The 300 lb. rusting treadmill may be less of a good use of weight. Elise and I may both be disappointed it made the journey to Egypt.
Having our stuff has made a big difference. We are starting to settle in. We are starting to think of Cairo as home. I hope we are able to stay.
Sunday, January 14, 2024
Sweet Fourteen
Saturday, January 6, 2024
Ice Skating and Curling (and Glühwein)
New Years in Vienna
We greeted the new year in Vienna, visiting friends from Sri Lanka. The day after we arrived was Peter's birthday. The "kids" tackled the city in search of their own adventures, ice skating under a giant oak wrapped in twinkling white lights and haunting record stores in search of vinyl, while the adults hit the Christmas market and enjoyed steaming mugs of glühwein beneath the gaze of the Habsburg Empress Maria Theresa in the square between the museum of natural history and the museum of art. Peter's patience was rewarded with a birthday dinner of his favorite dish, ramen. He agreed to take a rain check on the birthday cake.
Downtown Vienna shut down on New Year's Eve and opened its cobblestone streets and hidden alleyways to the city's revelers. There was -- of course -- more glühwein, as well as another Viennese first, roasted chestnuts, and bratwurst slathered in melty cheeze and fried onions.
We returned to our friend's home in time for the Seahawks game and to ring in 2024 with fireworks from the (very cold and windy) rooftop. Sam -- with friends new and old -- huddled under blankets with his brother and sister and watched the skyline erupt with color and light. Fireworks sparkled above the rooftops for as far as the eye could see. If the year is anything like the first 15 minutes, it's going to be a good year.