Wrapping up

I apologize early on for the length of this post and the fact that it may seem disjointed. I started it nearly 2 weeks ago and finished it tonight because I'm going to adapt it for publication in a local magazine. That will have to wait till tomorrow, though, because it's well after midnight now. Hope you enjoy reading. Thanks for reading all this year, and for praying us through our first year in Egypt.

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Luke and I leave for Texas in about a month. We'll be there six weeks before Jason joins us. His school year doesn't end until mid-June, and then he's committed to teaching summer school through mid-July. It will be a long time to be away from him, but the visit with family and friends will be good.

I'm preparing to leave Egypt, deciding what to take home, what to bring back, what's necessary and what's not. Making lists left and right. My lists have lists. I want to pack our clothes away so they are not all dusty when we return. I have to give a key to Leni so she can clean before we come back. I have to make sure everything's in line at my school and that I'm all set for next year, wrap up my job at the library, make sure Luke's set for school next year, etc. Lots to think about.

Time to reflect on the past year. I'm in the middle of re-reading The Poisonwood Bible and I'm going to borrow author Barbara Kingsolver's section headings as guidelines for my thoughts.

The Things We Carried

We brought 7 Rubbermaid tubs with us, 50 pounds each, packed efficiently with Space Bags, and filled with the things I thought we needed.

I brought lots of stuff for the kitchen, utensils, supplies we might not be able to get here, etc. I should have left the Homemade Gourmet mixes at home and brought more pecans, chocolate chips, and pre-cooked bacon! I expected to be able to still cook with my Homemade Gourmet stuff, but convenience foods like canned soup and tomatoes are expensive here, and so I ended up not using much of that stuff.

I brought a lot of Luke's favorite toys and books. I brought all my scrapbook supplies, since scrapbooking is one of my favorite ways to spend my free time. We brought all our DVDs, some books we couldn't do without, and some of Jason's teaching supplies.

I had done pretty good research and mostly brought the right stuff. We should have brought more winter clothes and our heavy coats when we first came. I should've brought the special nails for hanging pictures in concrete walls. I thought for sure they'd sell them here, but they didn't until a few weeks ago. I also should've gone ahead and brought several sets of sheets in different sizes. We've had king sized beds, queen, and something larger than a twin but not a double. I didn't bring sheets because I didn't know what size beds we'd have, but it is so expensive here to get sheets that aren't scratchy that I probably would've been better off bringing something.

We have plenty here. Yes, seven tubs seems like so little to bring...and we did bring six more suitcases of stuff at Christmas. But I have been able to escape consumerism, to realize how many things are not needs, but wants. And when we went home at Christmas I found myself quickly sucked back into that mentality of needing the latest gadget, more scrapbook stuff (I really do need that...), new clothes and shoes, more of everything! Really, though, I just need what I already have. I walk past hungry children every day. People who buy government subsidized bread made with who knows what sort of ingredients. Barefoot toddlers with flies swarming all around their eyes and noses. Women trying to sell me a packet of kleenex so they can buy food for the babies lying limp on their laps. I don't need a fancy phone, a new iPod, a Nintendo DS. What I need is to give away the stuff I already have (which is how I'm going to get home in those same seven tubs and three carry-ons).

I've learned that a new place becomes home more quickly when you have to make it a home for your child. I tried to keep things as normal as possible for Luke, bringing his favorite things, keeping our routine somewhat the same, and in doing so, I settled in a little more quickly than I probably would have otherwise.

I walk just about everywhere, and I got lost quite a bit when we first got here. It took me nearly six months, but I have learned the streets of Maadi well enough so that I can walk just about anywhere and not need a map. I still keep one handy, but I have learned my way around. Since I am spoiled to finding everything in one store at home, I’m pretty happy that I have also figured out where to buy most of the things I need here. Speaking Arabic helps a lot, and that's one of the things I'm most glad I've learned. I have taken three sessions of Arabic at CSA, and I am much more comfortable knowing enough of the language to make myself understood.

It didn’t take me long to learn that Egyptians are a welcoming, friendly people who are generally happy to help. The first week we were here we happened upon a wedding party for the groom’s family and were invited in. Though I felt out of place and honestly, a little afraid—it was our first week—I also felt that they were truly honored and thrilled to have us there. That experience remains one of my favorite memories in Cairo.

The Things We Didn’t Know

I had read about the dust and dirt of Egypt, and I came here fully aware that we were moving to the desert, but I don’t think anything could have really prepared me for how sweaty, gritty, and grimy I’d feel on a hot August day in Cairo! Nor was I ready for the dust the khamsin brought in last month or the dirt we constantly bring in on our shoes.


We were told to pack plenty of winter clothes, and fellow teachers warned us that winter in Cairo is an “in your bones” kind of cold. Still, I was unprepared for the fact that I would often wear my ski jacket while I walked my son to school, and that I would sometimes open the windows in our flat to let the cold air OUT on days when the air outside was warmer than the cold trapped in our apartment.

I don’t think I could’ve imagined traffic in Cairo either. I rarely find myself stuck in dead-stop traffic as is common at home, but the way that pedestrians, taxis, bikes, motorcycles, donkey carts, and often packs of wild dogs share the same roadway is phenomenal! I quickly surmised that there was an implied understanding that anyone and anything might dart out in traffic, and that most drivers were on the lookout for those surprises. I still ride in taxis gripping the handle and holding on tight to my son, though, for I don’t think I’ll ever get used to some of the close calls I see each day.

I did not know until I arrived in Egypt and tried pushing our stroller down Maadi sidewalks that the proper place to plant a tree or install a light pole is right in the middle of the sidewalk! Who knows why, but that’s the way it is in Cairo. We push the stroller down the street, and use sidewalks when they’re navigable.

Some of the things I didn’t know about Cairo turned out to be really pleasant surprises. I knew we’d travel and see some of the Middle East and Africa from here, but I never fathomed how beautiful Egypt itself would be. I expected to see vast deserts and endless dunes, but I find joy in the beauty of the flowering trees of Maadi. An afternoon felucca ride from the Maadi Corniche calms my soul and restores peace to my mind when it’s filled with the noise of the busy city. And my favorite jewels of Egypt are the Mediterranean and Red Seas. We spent a relaxing weekend in Al Arish in the fall, and have visited the Red Sea recently. I had no idea Egypt had such beautiful seaside beaches.

Although we learned early on that Egyptians were friendly and eager to help, we have lost our sense of personal space. This mostly affects Luke. Complete strangers constantly approach him to touch his head and kiss his face. Granted, he is the cutest three-year-old I’ve ever seen, and I personally find him irresistible—but he has grown tired of it, and I don’t blame him. It’s difficult to politely tell them “hands off,” since I know they’re only being kind. Luke has started being grumpy with people, and he even asked me recently, “If I wear a hat, will people quit touching my hair?”

I too have had my personal space invaded. We were warned before coming here that women in Cairo sometimes attract unwanted attention from men. This could include being hissed at, kissed at, cat called, grabbed, or groped. I blissfully escaped most of this our first four months here when we lived in Degla, but since we’ve moved to a different area of Maadi, this unwanted attention has increased. On one morning, a guy (probably a teenager) grabbed my rear end while I was walking home from taking Luke to school. He was walking the opposite direction to me on the street, and I could tell something was up. He moseyed over, laughing with his friends, and grabbed me. It was so disturbing to me; I’d never experienced anything like this at home. I yelled at the guy, who followed me with his friends for a while. That scared me. I lost them, and once I got home, I lost all composure, broke down, and called Jason, who immediately came home from work to be with me. Seems like a small incident, but it’s one that colored my outlook for a few months. I’ve decided it’s not going to happen again, though, and when a similar incident started to happen last week, I swung my bag at the guy, yelling at him. He got scared and ran off.

Despite these encounters, I don’t feel unsafe. However, I do feel like I’ve lost some innocence. I don’t trust people I see on the street the way I did when we first arrived, and I keep a very sharp eye out when I’m walking, especially by myself.

We’ve also lost some personal possessions in Cairo. Early on my phone and wallet were stolen from our apartment. Since Christmas, we lost Luke’s precious stuffed dog, Sweet Puppy, when we left it in a cab. Just a few weeks ago, I left Luke’s stroller on top of a cab, tried to chase the cab down the street, yelling at the top of my lungs, but the guy drove off and never returned with my stroller. I had heard stories about cab drivers returning people’s cell phones and wallets, so I had some hope that he’d bring my stroller home, but he never did. It was a big bummer. I had the perfect stroller.

The Things We'll Carry Home

Luke and I leave for home in fifteen days. We won’t be back in Cairo until mid-August, and I know there are things we will miss. We will long for a cool glass of lemon juice, which is distinctly different from lemonade. We’ll wish we could call Red Bistro for some delicious hummus, phone Lucille’s for our favorite cheeseburger, or walk over to the local take-away spot for tomeyya and makaroona béchamel. We will miss the familiar streets of Maadi, our friends from school, and our wonderful church. We’ll wonder how our favorite cab driver, Mostafa, is doing. We’ll miss the smiles on the faces of the Egyptians we meet in the store and on the street when we greet them in Arabic.

We will carry home two complete scrapbooks, filled with vivid memories of our first year in Egypt. The stories told in these albums are those of a family bonded together by a unique experience, of a marriage made stronger, of a child filled with curiosity and wonder at the world around him. We are richer for our time here.

Despite the things I’ve complained about, big and small, there have been so many blessings this year. New friends, new experiences, new opportunities abound. A chance to meet people and maybe make a difference in someone’s day, if not in his life.

We will also carry home our testimony. Our God is FAITHFUL. I was cleaning my studio this morning, putting away scrapbook supplies for the summer and separating out the things I'll bring home. While I was cleaning, I had music going on iTunes, and "Great is Thy Faithfulness" was on. Before I knew it, I was in tears. I love modern worship music, but inevitably it's the hymns that reach to the core of my soul. I wish I could just have this song on a loop while you're reading this post. Since I can't, here are the words of the second verse and chorus that melted my heart today:

Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth
Thine own dear presence to cheer and to guide
Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow
Blessings all mine, with ten thousand beside.
Great is thy faithfulness
Great is thy faithfulness
Morning by morning new mercies I see
All I have needed thy hand hath provided
Great is thy faithfulness
Lord, unto me.

I can’t begin to tell you how many days this year I have longed to be back in Texas—to see the faces of my dear family, to sit in my Daddy’s lap, to see the look of joy on my mom’s face as she holds her favorite (and only) grandson. There have been times when I wanted to tell Jason “khelas,” Arabic for “finished,” or “enough,” pack our Rubbermaid tubs, and return home. But we came to Egypt because we felt led by the Lord to do so, and we will stay until we feel led elsewhere.

Each time I have a dark day, I ask God to speak to me. I walk down the streets of Maadi, looking for beauty among the dust, garbage, and honking taxis. Inevitably God shows me His presence here, reassures me that we’re in the right place, and gives me just enough of a lift to get me through the day. There is nothing that will take away the homesickness and the way that I miss my family, but God is faithful, like the hymn says. He cheers and guides me with His presence, giving me strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow.

Great is Your faithfulness, Lord, unto me.