belgium

known for its beer and chocolate...two things which we haven't tasted in our first few hours here.

however, our appetites are quite full from an afternoon of speed-walking through a nearby college town with one peurto rican, nine mexicans, three egyptians, one canadian (lianne), and two americans (me and a lady who lives in mexico). none of us speak dutch, or german, or french, or anything else (besides english) that could be helpful.

aside from the entertaining diversity (entertaining is an understatement....the fun and frustrations that come with such diversity only make a "stroll" through a foreign city much more enjoyable and exciting) of our group, i must admit that the two white-haired, 60 something year old, twin ladies walking around (matching clothes, shoes, and bags) were a highlight...seriously.

then there was the lovely moment i slipped into my jacket. it's not cold, but compared to cairo, it's a bit chilly. lianne and i went for a little stroll through a local park, sat and listened to the trees....a sound that i often miss living in the craziness of cairo.

i wish i had taken more time to learn spanish. it never seemed exciting enough for me in high school. however, now that my excitment involves knowing people and doing things with people, language acquisition is a bit higher if i continue with these international adventures. my limited recollections from afternoons with aunty martina and cote helped me find some common ground.........but honestly, it was ultimately mer. shwartsenager who came to my rescue.....believe it, i totally said it. and, i'll say it again:

asta la vista, baby!

all my bags are packed

i'm just about ready to go.

in one month minus two days, i'll be exiting egypt until the next time an opportunity comes along for me to return.

until then, i'm off to belgium for two weeks!

Lianne, Lianne, Lianne...what more need I say?

Why in the world do people (Lianne and I included) take all the clothespins off of the clothes line and put them in a basket so we can take them out of the basket and put them right back onto the line when the next load of laundry is ready to be dried? Seriously!?!

So, in my effort to eliminate a completely unnecessary and often tedious (although minute) task from the already strenuous demands of washing laundry, I suggest that we leave the clothespins on the line and simply clip the clothes to the line with the awaiting clothespin! Brilliant, I know.

With a roll of the eyes and an annoyingly entertaining tone, Lianne shares her thought about my ingenious: "You are SOOOOO lazy!"

LAZY? Wow, Lianne. No need to get personal, jeez! Being the humble, mature, twenty-two year old American living with a Canadian, I respond calmly, yet passionately, of course:

"LAZY?!?! It's people like me who invent microwaves and other conveniences that you Canadians enjoy!"

Pause.

Loud laughter.

Laundry folded....clothespins still on the line....until Lianne dries her laundry, that is. That's right...and after she finishes her laundry, I'll be the one taking all the pins out of the silly basket and clipping them back onto the line. Lazy? Ha!

Ten minutes later, Lianne invites herself to join me in the bathroom as I brush my teeth, wash my face, etc. By inviting herself, I really mean to say that she monopolizes the sink. Being the humble, mature, twenty-two year old American, I patiently brush my teeth to the side of the sink where I can no longer watch myself in the mirror (even after brushing my teeth approximately fourteen thousand and six hundred times before this occasion, I still find my self staring at the strokes of the brush....why do we do this? You know I'm not the only one :)

It's funny what we notice when we step to the side and stop looking in the mirror. For example, whenever I enter the bathroom, I can always tell if Lianne's already been in there or not. If she has, then I am guaranteed a free feet cleaning as the bathroom floor is covered in water.

Stepped aside, no longer looking at myself in the mirror but at Lianne in front of the sink and mirror, I notice that her face washing technique is like a fountain desperately trying to water a withering garden....minus the garden and add a few water-wrinkled feet, we have our bathroom floor after Lianne has washed her face.

I laugh, for obvious reasons. Without saying a word, she knows the reason I laugh and explains (rather defensively, I might add :) that if she brings her elbows closer to her body, there would be no Old Faithful; however, she informs me, bringing her elbows closer to her body takes a lot of effort, in fact, too much effort.

Whoa. Rewind:

With a roll of the eyes and an annoyingly entertaining tone, Lianne shares her thought about my ingenious: "You are SOOOOO lazy!"

And so, ten minutes of laughter, clean faces, clothespins on the line, water on the bathroom floor, I finish brushing my teeth, in front of the sink, looking in the mirror....for approximately the fourteenth thousand, six hundred and first time.


I don't really brush my teeth for ten minutes......but my wisdom teeth are poking through my gums and the brushingbrings momentary relief from this post-adolescent, teething process. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a basket to hide (there's always a way to ensure that others accept our genius ;)

A few more pictures

Here is a link to a few pictures from the past two weeks of traveling....

It's taking FOREVER to upload photos (almost 10mins for ONE picture!)....

So, my generous roommate uploaded my pictures onto her page with her newer, shinier, and faster computer.....

ENJOY!

Floating down the Nile and playing with many, many, many Egyptian kiddos!

p.s. Links to older albums can be found in the upper right corner of this page.

of a bus, a boat, and a brouch.

My eyes closed, seabreeze flies freely through my hair, songs spill from my lips.

The engine roars; the smell of diesel, gone with the wind.

We cut through the swells.

I hold on tightly to the shoulders in front of me.

Open. The wind flings back my eye lids, flattens my cheeks, dries my lips.

I take a deep breath through my nose. I look.

Grandpa, preparing the next lure.

Jared, checking the lines in eager anticipation.

Chris, asleep in the sun.

Dad, Captain Dad, steering us toward dinner.

I smile and continue my song. The song echoes. The engine roars. The diesel smells. The wind blows. The boat rocks.

Open. No more salty seabreeze flying through my hair or swells to rock the boat. Just a roaring engine, smelly deisel, and an echoing ipod.



At one point, maybe twelve years ago, sitting in the back of the bus reflected social achievement: coolness being the epitome. Today, there was nothing cool about the back of the bus. For a few moments, I escaped from the nauseous engine gases and found myself sitting on the captain's chair of our deep sea fishing boat, fifteen years ago, singing my song, smiling at my Dad as he looked over his shoulder at me, smiling at me as if I had the most beautiful voice ever. I sang louder.



Just moments before, as the bus engine started, I realized our trip from Suez Canal back to Cairo was going to be uncomfortable, to say the least. Now, I love life. I love to share life with people (which is why I'm sitting here.....telling you about my ever exciting journey from Suez Canal). I share my thoughts, my feelings, my ideas; to know others and to be known, I believe, is a priceless gift that we've been given......So, in these first few moments on our bus ride home, I felt the need to share my frustrations...



Luckily for Lianne, my typical grouchiness in regards to minute frustrations such as sitting at the back of the bus is expressed in bratty-playfullness. We'll call this mood: brouch (brilliant, I know! You put brat and grouch together and there you have it!). Brouchiness is usually the result of frustrating situations that are rather silly and don't deserve full-blown grouchiness (argueably never deserved...anyway). Br0uchiness usually reflects my unique ability to cope with such situations. In this case, I needed to escape the nasueating smells and ear-gnawing engine noises.



Brouchiness inspired:



Needless to say, the sweater over the nose helped me escape the smells; although, not even sitting at the very back of the bus helped me escape odd looks from the "front-of-the-bus" passengers.

All that to say: Dad, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE fix the boat!