I’ve let a week slip between blog posts and have received some well-deserved crap about it from some of you. Apologies! Moving into my new apartment has proven difficult, expensive, and sometimes dirty work and internet and free time have only rarely intersected.
First things first. Jose Hernandez:
For those of you who missed the story several minutes ago on CNN International, let me update you on this amazing bio. From the age of 7, Jose Hernandez went to work with his parents as a migrant farmworker harvesting fruit and vegetables in the fields of Stockton, California. His parents wanted him and his brother and sisters to learn the value of hard work. Now, at 41, he has realized his dream of becoming an astronaut and created some recent controversy by giving an interview from space to a Spanish-language TV station in which he mentioned his support of immigration reform. NASA actually backed him stating that although his opinions are his own, he has every right to express them. So cool.
As you may be able to tell, I have committed to some hardcore relaxing this weekend. I am staying home in the air conditioning during the day and making brief expeditions to explore my new neighborhood once it cools off in the evening. I have watched two hours of Al Jazeera and one of CNN International but I may give the TV a rest (so hard when I have access to satellite for the first time in years!) to go try to wash the footprints off my bedroom wall.
Which brings me to the apartment. My new roommate is a very sweet Mexican girl named Marisol. Between Marisol getting sick for a couple weeks, traveling for a week, her roommate moving out, and the maid going MIA during the month of Ramadan (which, thank God, ends this weekend), the apartment has not been cleaned over a month. I spent yesterday catching up as best I could, with extensive floor cleaning, bathroom scrubbing and ant-poisoning in the kitchen. I spent three hours in full on Melanie mode (for those of you who do not know my friend Melanie, Mel is to bleach what King Midas was to gold) and still barely made a dent. We still need visits by a plumber, electrician, and the very much missed maid to bring the place up to speed but I can walk down the hall and back without shoes on now (not recreationally but at least in case of fire or something).
First things first. Jose Hernandez:
For those of you who missed the story several minutes ago on CNN International, let me update you on this amazing bio. From the age of 7, Jose Hernandez went to work with his parents as a migrant farmworker harvesting fruit and vegetables in the fields of Stockton, California. His parents wanted him and his brother and sisters to learn the value of hard work. Now, at 41, he has realized his dream of becoming an astronaut and created some recent controversy by giving an interview from space to a Spanish-language TV station in which he mentioned his support of immigration reform. NASA actually backed him stating that although his opinions are his own, he has every right to express them. So cool.
As you may be able to tell, I have committed to some hardcore relaxing this weekend. I am staying home in the air conditioning during the day and making brief expeditions to explore my new neighborhood once it cools off in the evening. I have watched two hours of Al Jazeera and one of CNN International but I may give the TV a rest (so hard when I have access to satellite for the first time in years!) to go try to wash the footprints off my bedroom wall.
Which brings me to the apartment. My new roommate is a very sweet Mexican girl named Marisol. Between Marisol getting sick for a couple weeks, traveling for a week, her roommate moving out, and the maid going MIA during the month of Ramadan (which, thank God, ends this weekend), the apartment has not been cleaned over a month. I spent yesterday catching up as best I could, with extensive floor cleaning, bathroom scrubbing and ant-poisoning in the kitchen. I spent three hours in full on Melanie mode (for those of you who do not know my friend Melanie, Mel is to bleach what King Midas was to gold) and still barely made a dent. We still need visits by a plumber, electrician, and the very much missed maid to bring the place up to speed but I can walk down the hall and back without shoes on now (not recreationally but at least in case of fire or something).
Once the apartment returns to liveable condition, it will be suitable for guests. I have a large bedroom and even have an extra mattress and box-spring so if anyone has always wanted to travel to Egypt and has just been waiting for a friend with a free and convenient place to stay, give me a holler.
I close with some random suggestions to certain parties based on my experiences in Egypt thus far.
Dear Egypt,
Consider decreasing the circumference of your toilet paper rolls and INCREASING the amount of toilet paper on each role. There is no reason to waste cardboard on HUGE toilet paper rolls to give structure to like a meter of the paper itself. If you’re already spinning toilet paper onto the roll, why not just keep spinning another few second and put a health amount of TP onto every roll. It would be weird not to have to buy toilet paper every other day, I know, but I swear you’d get used to it.
Dear Egyptian Taxi Drivers,
I’m not sure where this crazy rumor started, but American women do not fall in love and proposed marriage and immediate immigration to America in the space of a single taxi ride. This is the case even when the driver assures his passenger that he does not already have a wife in America. It is true even when the driver offers to overcharge his passenger by only five pounds instead of by ten pounds. It is the case even when the driver adjusts the rearview mirror to properly and repeatedly stare at his passenger. It is true even when the driver gives his passenger his phone number and promises to come at her beck and call to repeat the whole irritating, harassing procedure. Want to marry an American? Try to be a friend first. This is accomplished through ordinary, non-creepy conversation, not by simply declaring that you are friends, loudly and aggressively. And work on those pick-up lines. Shouting “I no have wife in America” .2 seconds after meeting me doesn’t exactly make me go weak in the knees, you know?
I close with some random suggestions to certain parties based on my experiences in Egypt thus far.
Dear Egypt,
Consider decreasing the circumference of your toilet paper rolls and INCREASING the amount of toilet paper on each role. There is no reason to waste cardboard on HUGE toilet paper rolls to give structure to like a meter of the paper itself. If you’re already spinning toilet paper onto the roll, why not just keep spinning another few second and put a health amount of TP onto every roll. It would be weird not to have to buy toilet paper every other day, I know, but I swear you’d get used to it.
Dear Egyptian Taxi Drivers,
I’m not sure where this crazy rumor started, but American women do not fall in love and proposed marriage and immediate immigration to America in the space of a single taxi ride. This is the case even when the driver assures his passenger that he does not already have a wife in America. It is true even when the driver offers to overcharge his passenger by only five pounds instead of by ten pounds. It is the case even when the driver adjusts the rearview mirror to properly and repeatedly stare at his passenger. It is true even when the driver gives his passenger his phone number and promises to come at her beck and call to repeat the whole irritating, harassing procedure. Want to marry an American? Try to be a friend first. This is accomplished through ordinary, non-creepy conversation, not by simply declaring that you are friends, loudly and aggressively. And work on those pick-up lines. Shouting “I no have wife in America” .2 seconds after meeting me doesn’t exactly make me go weak in the knees, you know?
I find that I can't resist an insistent taxi driver looking to use me to get to America. It makes me melt like butter in the microwave. With the added benefit that he has no wife in America, how can you resist? Especially if we are obviously friends already - why would he make that up?
ReplyDeleteInternational romance - sigh. It's what dreams are made of.
I love reading all these "very Margaret" narratives and descriptions of things like taxi drivers and toilet paper rolls. Really makes me feel like I am there!
ReplyDeleteSpeaking as the American wife of an Egyptian (former tourguide in Sharm) I can honestly bowl over with laughter at the taxi stories! They're too funny, but I shouldn't laugh that loud since I ended up marrying an Egyptian, quite regrettably. I say that there ought to be a sign in the airport at destinations like Sharm that say "Don't marry the tour guide" you know, kinda like the "Don't feed the animals" sign at the zoo. These men are under the assumption that they're Romeos with all the cool, smooth moves. They feel that since you're foreign that you're fair game or an easy target. They all need a jolt of reality! Try to resist temptation LOL!
ReplyDelete