Thursday, January 24

Once You've Had a Drink...


The makings of jet lag.

The day's travel began at about 8:00am. John and his family left from Augusta while my mother and I scrambled frantically around town to finish up everything that I forgot to do in the three months prior: passport and credit card photocopies, traveler's checks, new socks... oh and my typhoid vaccination. Despite my best efforts, the group rendezvoused in Yarmouth on time. Around 10, we drove off to Boston, John, Pat, Becky, and Eric in one car, and my mom, dad, and I in another.

After much debate and even more confusion over where to have lunch, we decided to eat at the Prince Pizzeria on Route One in Saugus. Jonny Hyman was kind enough to come out and meet us. The food was pretty good and it was nice to have a last hurrah with friends and family. Everyone was excited for the big departure. It soon became apparent, however, that our parents had a few pieces of advice left to impart on us. As our departure grew closer and their words of wisdom became ever more urgent, John and I tried to keep the situation light-hearted, some might say to a fault.

The gang at Prince Pizzeria. Notice none of our parents are smiling.
Next we said our goodbyes to Becky, Eric, and Jon, and then continued on to Logan Airport. We got there with plenty of time and the lines were surpris- ingly short, so we spent another hour or so in a small cafe just out- side security. Each of us had an Egyptian guide book in hand and we shared little tidbits of useful. The mood would occasionally tense up as our understandably worried parents desperately tried to make us understand the gravity of what we were about to do. While we fully understood where they were coming from, our natural reactions were to continue our joking and goofing.

After tearful goodbyes (editor's note: I don't recall any tears) and long hugs, we left our parents and went through security. Everything went smoothly, save for one little issue. In December, when John and I booked our flights, we had requested window seats. Nevertheless, our seats were as far from the windows as possible. Regardless, the five-and-a-half hour flight in the 747 was fine. About half way through the trip I started feeling cramped and ready to get off the plane. Luckily, though, dinner was served which preoccupied us for a while, particularly when we discovered that alcoholic beverages were complimentary. Each pass that the flight attendants made, John and I became noticeably more giggly.

We arrived in Frankfurt, Germany around 11:00pm back home, or 5:00am in Germany, just in time to see all the airport shops opening for the day. It felt great to stretch our legs for a while. We found computer stations where you can swipe your credit card and buy a couple minutes of internet use and frantically sent out our emails in the five minutes that two Euros had bought. Then it was time for a midnight snack... or breakfast rather. This was the first of many eery realizations we've had, and continue to have, about the time zone change. We decided to get a taste of German sausage tea at a little cafe in the center of the terminal. The bill came to 22 Euros, or about 2.4 billion US Dollars. When our waitress came to get our order, she said "Hello" right off, as though there were absolutely no question as to our nationality. This was a bit of a shock to me and I realized then just how much more I would stick out in Cairo. I couldn't figure out, though, how we could be so easily pegged as American in Germany. Was it my bright white sneakers? John's guitar Case? My oblivious behavior? My new, touristy LL Bean jacket? Or was it the rather significant chocolate stain I sported on the front of my shirt thanks to the in flight dinner?

At this point we decided that it would be best to find our gate and attempt to socialize with any AUC students who might be on our flight. So we confidently walked over and sat down in a circle of Egyptians, each of whom we suddenly realized was about 30-60 years too old to be a student. As we sat there silently, unsure that we had come to the right place, my nose started bleeding excessively. But no worries: it was fine after some quality time in the bathroom.

Just arrived in Cairo.
When we made it to our actual gate, AUC students start- ed springing up left and right. We sat together and introduced ourselves as we waited to board the plane. It was really encouraging to meet people in the program and talk about the semester to come. Then, on the plane John and I sat next to an Egyptian man who currently resides in Toronto. He was incredibly friendly and talked a lot about Egypt. We asked him for advice and suggestions on places to visit. He had such enthusiasm as he talked and it was clear he loved his nation, its culture and people. He had so much to offer and we couldn't have asked for a better introduction to our new home.

Upon arriving at the Cairo airport, an amusingly smug little man was standing on the other side of the divider holding up a sign bearing the letters of our new school and calling them out, "AUC! AUC!" as we walked toward customs. By the time we had all found our bags, there were twenty of us gathered around the man. The group was nearly silent as we were all exhausted. The bus ride from the airport, however, woke everyone up. Eight of us were crammed in a small, old van and driven through Cairo in the middle of rush hour. Mainers, as a rule, view Boston traffic as the worst in the world. Whelp, I've got news for you: Boston drivers are like little old women compared to Cairenes. There's no clear traffic rules, just lots and lots of car horns. Lines painted on the road are meaningless. Cars go as fast as they can. Tiny mopeds seat as many as three or four people and weave in and out of traffic. Pedestrians don't wait for the cars to stop or slow down; they just step out and literally play Frogger with their lives. And despite all of this, accidents are rare. Everything somehow flows naturally. It was simultaneously the most entertaining and terrifying car ride I've ever had.

As I stepped out of the bus and looked at our apartment building, my excitement grew. This place is so entirely different from anywhere I've ever been. Despite our exhaustion, we were anxious to get out and explore the city. Everyone we had talked to on our flight over made Egypt sound better and better. It can all be pretty well summed up with the last words spoken to us by our Egyptian friend from the airplane: "Once you've had a drink from the Nile, you must come back."

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

awwwwwww!

Anonymous said...

Peter, just so you know, "hello" in German is "hallo," but could easily sound like "hello."

Anonymous said...

i just want you two to know that reading your blog is absolutely making my life! i've just finished watching brokeback mountain (i'm sure it's one of your fav's) and so i was all teary eyed...and then i decided to read your hilarity of a blog...YAY! I think about you often...keep up the funny commentary:)
Koreana