Damn, Giza

Giza, Egypt

‘Twas the month after Christmas and all through each house,

Not a creature could fit, in her pre-holiday blouse.

(Which didn’t stop her from eating the rest of the Christmas cookies, the end.)

i really want to lose 3 pounds

Hello and welcome to 2019.

If you haven’t heard, I’m BACK in Chicago and dry as a frickin bone in this cold weather.

My triumphant return to the cheesy gordita crunch the US of A, after 12 months and 18 countries…… went nothing as planned.  My flight was early; my uber was fast; and my parents were engrossed in the 25^th anniversary of Schindler’s List.

See, I planned to surprise my parents at their weekly Friday afternoon movie matinee, but I didn’t account for Liam Neeson saving the entire Jewish population of Poland.  One by one.  For four hours.

What to do…  what to doooooo.  After a quick hallway deliberation, I decided I might as well see a movie if there was time, right?  I mean, I had two hours to kill and I was already at the movie theater soooooo Wreck It Ralph 2?  (Which STILL got me out in time to prop my bags, and greasy body, outside Schindler’s List.  To comfort my parents after a heart-wrenching historical period drama.  Hi, I’m home!  Are you ok?)

It would have been nice if I’d wrapped 2018 in a nice, little bow while still IN 2018, but I ate ice cream on the couch instead.  Catching up on 12 months’ worth of movies, mail, and Chunky Monkey…… and taking turns with my Mom, screaming at the television as Dr. Pimple Popper popped a 55-year-old blackhead outta some lady’s face.

1. Why have you allowed a blackhead to grow to the size of a winter coat button, DORIS?
2. And why have you waited 55 years to seek medical attention?
3. At no point since 19 fucking 63 did you think to yourself, ‘huh, I wonder what this dinosaur fossil is on my face?’

While we wait for Doris to start talking, this actually ties neatly into my final 2018 international escapade.  ‘Cuz denial ain’t just a river in Egypt, baby.  It’s a winter-coat-button blackhead on your face.

Returning to Africa (because I forgot to bless the rains), I arranged a gig in Giza, Egypt, working at a hostel on the Sound & Light Show Avenue which is the closest you can get to the pyramids without buying an entrance ticket.

For three weeks, I lived and worked next door to the last remaining wonder of the ancient world.  I swept hallways; I showed guests around; I organized a new customer booking software; and whatever I did, the pyramids were still RIGHT THERE.  It looked fake.  Like a movie set.  The three Great Pyramids and the Sphinx just SITTING there, staring back at me.

this view never got old or less impressive

Settling right in, I absolutely adored my time at the Pyramid Loft Homestay and I’ll tell you why.

#1. Every day was different and had something fun to offer.

Most of my working hours were spent on website maintenance, but on any given day, I could be hanging art in one of the guest rooms or hopping in a sketchy white van with a gaping hole where the sliding door should be, on my way to tutor my boss’s children.

(FYI typical egyptian buses)

First and second conditional?  Compliments, supplements, and congruence?  It didn’t matter what it was…… me and the kids had a great time learning the material.

Two polygons are congruent if there is a correspondence between their vertices such that each angle in the first polygon is ahhhhh yes, it’s all coming back to me now.  But you first.  You tell me what YOU think the answer is.

Day one on the job, I was asked to give a tour of both properties to two new guests.  (And since I’d been in Giza for, uhhhhh, the exact amount of time as the new guests, I knew nothing would go wrong.)  We got lost in 2 minutes.  Backtracking and zigzagging all across town, dragging their luggage through horse & camel poop mine fields, looking for that…… wait…… hold on…… is that…… this alley looks very familiar.

Six pit stains later, we made it to the other property in time for my guided grand tour of the facilities, the common areas, the rooftop deck and, of course, the STORAGE CLOSET.  (When I burst into the storage closet with such vigor, thinking it was one of the guest bedrooms…… I had a straight up giggle attack and couldn’t finish the rest of my expertly-rehearsed elevator speech the facts I think I overheard someone say in the lobby 20 minutes ago without laughing.  This is going really well.

#2. There was ample down time.

Pop quiz: what do you do if you’re living next to the Great Pyramids and you have a sprawling rooftop patio?  Answer: you spend all your free time on the sprawling rooftop patio.  Yoga in the morning, deep thinking in the afternoon, romantic dates with the Picasso-splattered sunset before a 1950’s Twilight Zone meets Dramatic Chipmunk Sound & Laser Light Show each night.

I had little motivation to travel ‘round Egypt to see other equally-impressive, historically-significant artifacts when I had 17-cent falafel sammies and pyramids in my backyard.

why should I leave?

The question became: was my lack of motivation a direct result of a physical & emotional exhaustion built up over the preceding 12 months…… or was my overpowering immobility due to

#3. The abundance & accessibility of strong weed.

It’s safe to say that Egyptian weed did not provide me any extra incentive to move.

Everyone had it.  At all times.  Local guys, tour guides, bus drivers, café owners, that kid who sold cowboy hats & had a selfie with Jason Derulo.  Was everyone in Giza stoned all day?  From my experience, yes.

Whereas the other two volunteers, Charlie & Will (both 22, both super sweet, both very attractive), regularly debated the origins and exact age of the pyramids, the structural engineering necessary to lift 2.5-ton blocks 270 feet in the air, and which precision tools could slice through granite & limestone circa 2500 B.C.…… I handled weed in other ways.  Like wondering if those were actual birds I was hearing or if it was a tape of birds singing.  Does this place have a sound system?  I’m so THIRSTY.  Is that iced coffee?  Ooo, could I have a sip?

Fun fact: EYEEEEE don’t smoke that much.  I know you think I’m all cool and hip and up with the times, but I smoked my first joint in college…… and then went to the Cheesecake Factory with my friends and one of their Moms.

Flash forward to last month in Egypt, sitting behind the front desk of a hostel, innocently editing their website while my boss simultaneously asked me to stay on permanently…… and offered me a hit of his monster hand-rolled joint.

Is this a test?  Am I being tested?

A true professional, I thanked him for the offer, leaned down, and caaaausally took a drag out of sight.

The 60 minutes that followed were not in my agenda for the day.  I typed about 4 letters total on the computer; I watched some sugar melttttttt away and completely DISINTEGRATE in black tea; I thought I was having a stroke but I played it cool; and I silently thanked God for the sturdiness of my chair.

At one point, my boss motioned to the big black box underneath the keyboard I was using and said if I needed more pictures for the website…… I could look in the hard drive.  So naturally I WHIPPED my head sideways to look at this big black box that undoubtedly contained some sort of video tapes that I would have to download somehow but on what machine and how crazy that they’d been UNDERNEATH THE KEYBOARD I WAS USING THIS WHOLE TIME are you kidding me!?

And then, just as quickly, I WHIPPED my head back up because maybe, just maybe, he meant the pictures were IN the computer.  And ohhhhhhh my God, I was having a real-life Zoolander moment and I couldn’t handle it.

I laughed so hard I wept.  Ca-rye-ing behind the front desk as my boss helped a customer and pretended I didn’t exist.  Crying as the customer checked in.  As he handed over his passport.  As he got his room key.  Crying as my boss finally turned back to me and gave me this look like, ‘WHAT is going on?’

After the customer walked away, I reenacted the whole thing for my boss.  The head whip, the bug eyes, the IN the computer.  As I died laughing all over again, further soaking my shirt in tears, my boss said, ‘no more smoking for you at work’…… before handing me another joint and ordering us two more black teas.

#4. I became the Mayor of Giza.

Walking back and forth between the two hostels 6 times a day, directly in front of the entrance to the Great Pyramids, I naturally became friends with every taxi driver, souvenir peddler and shop owner on the block.  They would see me coming and scream out, ‘Heyyyyy American!  Lovely morning!  Good morning my dear!  American friend!  My favorite girl!  This my girl!  Habibi good morning!’

Imagine walking to work and an entire city LIGHTS UP when it sees you.

I felt like a celebrity.  Up and the down the street…… slappin fives…… sayin ‘my man!’ and ‘no thanks, Ahmed, no Turkish coffee today- I need to get to work!’  If you need a self-esteem booster or if you enjoy a steady stream of strangers telling you you’re beautiful (or one guy yelling, ‘Chicago! uh oh, MAFIA!’), please book the next available flight to Giza.  You won’t be disappointed.  And you might even score a free pyramid-shaped ashtray.

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#5. I was home.

Not in the ‘I want to spend the rest of my life in Egypt’ kind of way, but between team breakfasts around the low, glass table (where everyone was dipping and grabbing and using each other’s spoons) and lounging all together in the lobby or on the roof, I fell in love with the 15 guys who worked there and I found a second home.

Bear hugs every morning.  Googly eyes throughout the day.  Ramadan’s special coffee, Ibrahim’s peppermint tea, Zizou’s back massages, come to think of it…… I was the only female who worked there.  Huh.

In any case, I love you Ahmed (‘Thomas’, my boss), Ahmed (#2 in charge, lived across the hall), Ahmed (the fast driver who wouldn’t let me buckle my seatbelt), Ahmed (who looked like Morgan Freeman), Mohammed (the chef), Mohammed (nicknamed ‘Afrita’ cuz he was super-fast), Mohammed (‘Abu Donia’ who was missing a finger), Hameed, Zizou, Ibrahim, Ramadan, Danny, and the other 2 volunteers Charlie & Will.

Thank you, Thomas & Abu Donia, for letting me cruise the streets of Cairo in your mint green Mercedes.  I loved hitting up that 100-year-old El Horreya Bar for brewskies and that local flea market to help you pick out new wardrobes…… but I’m still confused why your friend jumped outta the car while we were crossing the Nile bridge.  Who opens the passenger door, steps out of the car on the highway, and casually walks across 3 lanes of traffic?  Where was he going?  Did we pass his house?  Is that how Egyptians say goodbye?

did he make it?

Oh, and thank you Ahmed #2 for inviting me to, seriously, one of the best weddings I’ve ever been to.

me and will, excited to be there

Ahmed #2 told me I needed to ‘look like a princess’ for his friend’s wedding so I tried my best, rewashed my hair, and hoped he wouldn’t notice the broken zipper on my strappy sandal.  (He didn’t.)  The décor alone was enough to fascinate.  One area of the wedding dedicated to dozens of chandeliers, another with Marvel superheroes and 1990s horror movie villains spray-painted on the walls (the neon & black light really made them pop), and all throughout, clearly designated male & female sections.

Since the men and women weren’t allowed to mix or mingle, the men commandeered the main dance floor while the ladies dotted themselves in smaller dance circles around the whole perimeter.  Will was having the time of his life, celebrating his 22^nd birthday ca-rushing an Elaine-from-Seinfeld-inspired dance routine on the main floor while every girl at the wedding kept coming up to me, wanting to shake my hand and give me fruit (which I then had to bite before they’d smile and run away).

After I was good and loaded up with guava and banana, one of the older women dragged me into the middle of a lady dance circle and…… my life would never be the same.

Imagine me in the epicenter of 30 Muslim women, all dressed in traditional garb, all eyes locked on me.  I knew it before it even happened: this was going to be one of the best moments of my life.  And sure enough, that dance circle turned into an Egyptian stadium wave.

Each time I locked eyes with a woman…… that woman’s dance moves would ELECTRIFY!  I’d shift my gaze and ELECTRIFY!  Look at the next and ELECTRIFY!  It was out. of. control. Like real-life dominoes. One by one, right on down the line.  Faces covered by hijabs but eyes on FIRE waiting for their moment to shine.

i think i’ve hit my peak. (aaaaand electrify!)

I was in heaven.  Surrounded on all sides by women EXPLODING into Saturday Night Fevers and Grease Lightnings.  It was an eruption of dance like I’ve never seen.  And I was the conductor.

Dragged (willingly) into the middle of all four female dance clusters, my Tour de Dance finally culminated in the only coed section (dedicated to the wedding party) with, get this, a surprise dance battle with the bride herself.  Naturally, she won.  She crushed me fair and square cuz she was a goddamn angel.

I walked out of that reception backwards.  Blowing kisses to all my new lady friends, who blew kisses back to me.  And then I hightailed it back home, bought a street sweet potato, and ate it slowly while gazing at the pyramids and listening to Will spin rhymes.

what is life?

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i don’t know but i’m rolling with it

on one of the happiest camels who ever lived

Well, shoot.  I have so many more fun stories from Egypt, but it seems I’ve run out of time again.

There’s no time to talk about the cab driver who bought me a kilo of bananas.  Or my favorite local businesses like Chubb, Fluffy, Gelato Nuts and O’Tacos Original French Tacos.  And we didn’t even get to the FOOD.  Did you know the falafel originated in Egypt?  Well, they’ve perfected it.  Along with pita bread, camel liver, om ali (bread pudding’s Egyptian cousin that tasted like a Caramel Delite) and of course, koshary (the national dish of 6 different carbs thrown in a bowl & covered with red sauce).

I took 3 different pyramid complex tours: Dahshur with its Bent, Black and Red Pyramids- where I lost a contact lens and became part of history; Saqqara with its Step Pyramid & Pyramid of Djoser- the first pyramid built in Egypt; and of course, Giza with its Great Pyramids of Khufu, Khafre, and Menkaure and that saucy Sphinx.

I rocked out most of the sights in Cairo including: the Egyptian Museum, the Cave Church, the Hanging Church, Garbage City, Saladin Citadel (the largest citadel in the Islamic world), and Khan el-Khalili (one of the world’s oldest bazaars).  I even took a dinner cruise on the Nile River with some travel friends where we ate, belly danced and Tanoura Egyptian folk danced our hearts out.  (On Thanksgiving night.)

they let me take their weighted skirt for a whirl…

Until next time, when I BRIEFLY (I swear I’ll try) touch on quick trips to Casablanca and Madrid…… before launching into my official 2018 She Gone Girl recap.

Teaser alert: 2018 was better than I ever imagined.  Better than my wildest dreams.

i got all the lovey dovey camels in egypt…

and don’t even get me started on the guys

typical bfast free for all: falafel & eggplant & hands everywhere

am i framing his face? how bout now?

‘garbage city’

my walk to work. DON’T go on fri or sat. it’s a madhouse.

weekdays are the way to go

travel friend dogpile at the step pyramid

the front yard of one of the hostels. a lot going on.

sitting. cuz otherwise i looked like

attack of the 50 ft floral pants

bye egypt

i’ll miss your rooftop patio

and eating dinner at the perfume shop cuz i stayed too long again

wakanda forever

i’ll just be riding off into the sunset…

dancing at weddings all across the world…

xoxo