Culture shocked (again)

Most of you will know by now that I managed to get a job in Cairo, so I'm not going back to the UK to work. I'm really happy about this for many reasons, one of which is that I will now be able to get a dog. Those of you who know me well know that if I have one weakness, it's dogs. Cairo has a charity called the Egyptian Society for Mercy to Animals (ESMA). I looked at their 'dogs for adoption' internet page and noticed an older female German shepherd, named Baraka, which I found out later means blessing. Oh the irony. I contacted the shelter and asked if I could come and see her, so yesterday, off Mohamed and I went to see this dog, and it turned out to be a bit of an adventure.

I thought you didn't like cats?

It turns out ESMA has two shelters, one for cats and one for dogs, and we went to the cat one. It was confusing at first, because there were dogs there too. We eventually worked out we were in the wrong place, and I rang my contact at the dog shelter. She had just left, but said she would come to the cat shelter to see us. In the meantime, the staff offered us a tour. I have nothing but complete and utter admiration for the people that work there, and ESMA do outstanding work in the face of extreme challenges, but, quite honestly, it was awful. There was a dog there with paralysed back legs, although he seemed really happy and was able to move with surprising speed. There was another dog with a missing leg. One little white dog couldn't be petted because her previous owners had stubbed cigarettes out on her back. One older dog had scars round his neck. I decided not to think too much about the reasons. There were several baladi dogs who seemed to be healthy, and were really friendly. I was very taken with one in particular. Baladi means local and is the word Egyptians use for street dogs. And then there were about 200 cats. I have never seen so many cats in one place. Mohamed, who professes to hate cats, got pretty friendly with some of them. The three-legged dog was obviously a good friend of the cats too, as you can see from the photo. Anyway, it was pretty grim, all these homeless cats.

Lots of cats and a happy 3-legged dog

Little did I know that worse was to come.

Two of the people from the dog shelter arrived, and offered to take us to the shelter, somewhat incongruously in a red Hyundai coupe. We sat in the back, and Mohamed was a little too tall to be in the back of a sports car on Cairo's potholed roads! We arrived at the shelter just as their staff were having their dinner, but despite this they happily agreed to show us some dogs. While they were doing this, we were invited to look around. Many dogs milled around in large compounds. They have 500 dogs here, I think we must have seen about 100 of them. There was another baladi dog with paralysed back legs. He was a cheeky little fellow, and having paralysed back legs seemed to be no impediment to him living a happy life. One of the shelter people told us that they feed the dogs to stave off hunger but the food isn't particularly nutritious because they simply can't afford it. I'm not surprised with 500 dogs and 200 cats. Then they brought out Baraka. Apparently, she was probably abandoned in the desert by locals who wanted a pure breed but got fed up with her when she got too old. Quite honestly she was in a shocking condition. She was thin and her back feet looked bad, but worse than that was her mental health. She was clearly depressed and not at all happy in the shelter, and trembled the whole time we were there. Apparently German shepherds don't do well in shelters, and she was being bullied by other dogs as well. We also saw a middle aged baladi dog called Blackie who was really cute and another German shepherd called Kim, who was in much better condition.

The two shelter people offered us a lift back into the centre of Cairo, and we gratefully accepted - god knows how long it might have taken to get a cab or an uber from there. During the journey I spoke on the phone to Mona Khalil, Head of ESMA, who knows Baraka, and I asked her if she thought that Baraka would improve if she was given a home. She said definitely yes, as she had got gradually worse the longer she had been there. She also said "all the dogs deserve a home, but Baraka needs a home". It's an interesting and important distinction.

Throughout the visits to the cat shelter and then the dog shelter, I could feel my stomach clench and my hands tremble at the horror and injustice. I knew it was a risk going, because I really don't cope with these things well. Since that visit 24 hours ago I haven't been able to get the smells and sounds and sights out of my head. Although things are slowly changing, I can't pretend that Egyptians have the same attitude to animal welfare that we do in the UK. There was a horrific incident earlier this year where a dog was tortured and killed, and the culprits got 3 years in prison, but there is still a long way to go. Mona, mentioned above, features in this article which talks about Egyptians' attitudes animals. ESMA does incredible work but it's an up-Everest battle to be honest. I don't understand this because in Islam, the Qu'ran tells Muslims to treat animals with compassion and not to abuse them. So why do these things happen?

Well I am going to do one miniscule thing to help one of these animals. I'm going to give Baraka a home. As soon as I saw her terrified eyes I knew what was going to happen. I do have previous for adopting old dogs, but this really is going to be a challenge. She's an old lady who deserves to spend the rest of her life in comfort with someone who loves her and that someone is going to be me.

There is no fun in doing nothing...

...when you have nothing to do. It was Jerome K Jerome who said this, and I have come to realise just how right he was. Regular readers will know that I gave up my job at the school in case I got a job quickly or had to go anywhere for interviews. Until now, I had no idea how important it is for me to have too much to do, in order to achieve anything at all. It's amazing how little you can achieve when you've got plenty of time to achieve it. I've got plenty I could be doing. I'm trying to write one book, and I'm thinking of writing another which will require lots of research. Some parts of the apartment need a good clean - for example the cupboard in the bathroom needs to be cleaned out before I can put the clean towels in it. I have had hours spare where I could have done this - but I haven't. I'm also looking for a job back in the UK, and, in theory at least, I'm trying to learn Arabic. Absolutely none of these projects is progressing in any way that could be considered 'progress'.

So, when I get to the end of the day, what have I spent all that time doing? Well a lot of it is sleeping. I know I like my sleep, but even I'm shocked by how much time I can waste sleeping. Or in that semi-doze state where you're not quite asleep and not quite awake. I spend a lot of time on the internet, doing nothing particularly useful. I check Facebook. I play Words with Friends, Pointless and Alphabetty Saga. I watch YouTube videos of my favourite Strictly Come Dancing dances. I eat too much and drink too much tea. I wander to the shops to buy more fruit and somehow chocolate ends up in my basket too.

So I decided to take some action today. I applied for four jobs. I have researched learning a language online (I found italki - supposed to be brilliant) and I also bought a course on how to write creative non-fiction. Of course, this latter purchase may just be another form of procrastination, after all if I'm doing a course on writing, it means I'm not actually writing. I also did some cooking. Yes! Real cooking! I made a stew. It's good to have a sense of achievement.

I also seem to have signed up to attend about 16 Christmas Bazaars. Given that Egypt is a predominantly Muslim country, it's amazing how many of these are happening. There's the German one, the Swiss one, the European one, the CSA one..... I think it might be an idea to start prioritising Christmas Bazaars, but it looks like my Christmas shopping isn't going to be an issue. I'm also going to a Thanksgiving dinner! And a book sale. There is such a lot to do in Cairo, it's amazing really.

However the best thing that happened today is that my best friend in Cairo asked me if I wanted to go for a coffee this week. This is the person who is largely responsible for how rich my life has become here in Cairo. Which is one of the primary reasons that I don't want to have to go and work somewhere else. Sigh.   

My heart, it bleeds

Blog posts are obviously like buses. You don't get one for weeks, and then suddenly two come along at once.  The title of this blog (specifically its grammatical structure) is a reference to the problems Arab students of English have with tenses, and also with the combination of possessive pronouns with the nominative 'it' (I know, I know, ever the teacher).

My heart does bleed though. It bleeds for all the people who have died because of horrific terrorist attacks. It bleeds for the people of Egypt because of the catastrophic impact this continues have on the already depressed tourist trade, the lifeblood of this country. There is no unemployment benefit in Egypt. If you lose your job, you can't feed your family. It's that simple. It bleeds for the Syrians who have had their country stolen by murderous terrorists who have the gall to attribute it to religion. Specifically it bleeds for the Syrian refugee hairdresser I met in Hurghada, who has not seen his family for three years and has little prospect of seeing them in the forseeable future. So he ekes out a living pampering rich tourists who are frequently obnonxious and disdainful. And make no mistake about it. We are rich in comparison, in financial terms as well as political stability, social welfare, education... I could go on. I witnessed one such person who was unfortunately British being extremely rude to the Syrian refugee hairdresser. If my head hadn't been covered in hair dye, and my sister hadn't had her face covered in a "soothing mask", we agreed that we would have rushed out to have a word, Scottish style naturally!  

My heart bleeds for me too, and my new family here in Cairo. Because of the devastating impact of these things on the Egyptian tourist sector, I'm going to have to seek work outside Egypt for a short period. Some of you may wonder why I bothered to move to Cairo at all given I am now going back to the UK. I don't see it like that though. As far as I am concerned, Cairo is now my home. I live in Cairo. I will just be working somewhere else for a while. I'll admit that it's a bit of a long commute, but the more I mix with the expat/immigrant population in Cairo, the more I realise that such arrangements are not as uncommon as one might think. Having lived and worked in one country my whole life, moving to Cairo has made me realise what a cloistered existence it is. Of course there's nothing at all wrong with this; it's the norm and the vast majority of people in the UK live and work for their entire lives in the same country. I think it's the realisation that there are other ways of living that can be equally successful that has been a bit of a revelation to me.

The two things about this situation that upset me most are firstly that I will have to spend time apart from A. Now we have found each other it seems cruel that we have to do this. Secondly, I have had to give up the teaching. I couldn't agree to do another semester knowing that I might have to leave half way through it or fly back to the UK for interviews. I was only at the school for 3 months but I loved every minute of it and I'm already missing it. All of you who know me though know that aside from my main ethos in life ("To thine own self be true") I also firmly believe that every cloud (EVERY cloud) has a silver lining. This cloud actually has several, and the one that is at the forefront of my mind is that this will allow me to build up some money and enable me to open my own school here in Cairo eventually. When A mentioned this ages ago I thought it seemed like an impossible dream, but the more I think about it the more it seems like a possibility.

Another fantastic view from my wonderful balcony

Of course there are many other silver linings. I will get to see much more of my family and friends, and my dog. I'll have decent WiFi. I'll be able to watch British TV without incurring exorbitant data download costs. I can have the Cairo sun but still have a bacon butty on the Sunday mornings when I'm in Britain.

But still. My heart, it bleeds.

Counting my achievements (part 2)

I've mentioned the organisation Internations before, kind of LinkedIn for expats. Internations is responsible for several of my happiest achievements since I arrived in Cairo. I joined the writing group and the reading group. The reading group was a bit of a no brainer, being an avid reader as I am. The writing group though was a significant move out of my comfort zone. I know I can write, but the vast majority of my writing has been business related (or letters of complaint that I rarely sent). I knew I had to start writing for the tour company website though so I thought, what the hell? And joined. 

The fact that I went to the first meeting at all was because one of the group consuls contacted me before I even got to Cairo. He was so friendly and welcoming that the scary prospect of going to meet a load of new people (proper writers at that) didn't seem quite so scary. By the time I went to the first meeting I had started writing this blog, so I had something I had actually written to read to the group.

There have been so many positive outcomes from that meeting. My blog was well received and gave me confidence to continue writing. Most importantly though, I met a wonderful group of people. Some of them (you know who you are) are becoming not just good friends but close friends. Psychologically, this is a huge step for me in settling into Cairo - to have made some real friends. Through the support and encouragement of this group I have also expanded my writing and have written something that isn't my blog (watch this space). I'm thinking about another writing project too but we'll see how it goes.

Learning Arabic has proved to be a bit more difficult than I anticipated, mainly due to the weird working hours at the school. So although this couldn't be considered one of my biggest achievements, I was thinking the other day how many Arabic words I actually know, and there are more than I realised. Off the the top of my head I know the Arabic for yes, no, thank you, good morning, good evening, ok, right, let's go, tomorrow, now, husband, son, father, mother, sister, brother, house, girl, sun and tea. There are probably more that I've forgotten. It's amazing how far these few words can get you. Learning Arabic properly is still a major objective but I do seem to be acquiring words, even if it is slowly.

As promised in my last blog, I am now sitting here thinking about things that haven't gone so well. I must be in a positive frame of mind, because I can't think of that many, really, and those I can think of are about the transition to a completely different culture and being away from all my family and friends. The things that repeatedly make me want to bang my head off a wall are the quality of the internet here, and the fluid concept of time. I was back in the north of Scotland last week with my parents. While I was briefly living with them before I moved here, I moaned like mad about their crap broadband and actually complained to BT (who, to be fair, did actually respond positively). Now their broadband seems incredibly speedy and reliable in comparison to the dire service here in Egypt. In fact, my students at the school frequently ask me what I think of the internet here (accompanied by a sarcastic laugh). 

I have mentioned the fluidity of time before, and I think I'm actually starting to get used to it. For example, apparently my dishwasher is arriving this week. If it actually arrives this week then I'll probably faint with the shock. We have a cable for the land line that will be installed at some unspecified time in the future. We're expecting hand made Egyptian cotton fitted sheets. At some point. Apparently they are actually made, they just haven't been delivered.

Looking back over the last three months, I would say this transition has been about as difficult as I expected, although not necessarily in the ways I was expecting. I realised when I landed back in Cairo after my fleeting visit to the UK that Cairo is definitely becoming home for me. My relationship with A goes from strength to strength. We haven't had the easiest of starts and there have been some real challenges. But we got through these. I'm pretty sure we have many more challenges to come, but at the moment I know I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.

Counting my achievements (part 1)

I was reading the other day that when you're having a bad day, you should think about the things you have achieved that day, even tiny achievements. So, as I'm having an exceedingly bad day, I've decided to count my achievements since I arrived in Cairo (from huge to tiny and all points in between).

In no particular order:

Being able to cross the road on my own, without fainting with fright or having a panic attack. I never appreciated how easy it was to cross the road when I lived in the UK. All those pedestrian crossings and green men! All those cars traversing down the street at a reasonable speed, staying in one lane, indicating if they want to change lane! Cairo traffic is impossible to describe accurately, it really has to be experienced to be believed. So as a newcomer to Cairo, I would stand on one side of the road looking plaintively across at the pharmacy or bank or wherever, and eventually decide that I didn't really need money or shampoo or toothpaste that much. Cars whizz past at ridiculous speeds, change lanes with no warning whatsoever, veer wildly to avoid a myriad of obstructions and stop suddenly for no apparent reason. Motorcyclists weave manically in between the cars. There is much horn blowing and shouting. In Dokki, where the school is, mini buses race by with boys hanging out yelling "Giza! Giza!" in an attempt to drum up business. Taxis who think you might be a potential customer cross three lanes of traffic to get to you, resulting in more shouting and horn blaring. Crossing the road is therefore something of a challenge. I realised today though that I've pretty much mastered it, at least in Mokattam (where I live), Dokki (where I work), and Talaat Harb (where the hostel is). I needed phone credit, and the phone credit shop is on the other side of the road from the school. The road has a variable number of lanes depending on the presence of cars picking up or dropping people off (sometimes 3 deep), fruit sellers, various piles of unidentifiable stuff, deliveries of similarly unidentifiable stuff, and donkeys and carts. It's  an extremely busy road. What you do is this. Wait until there is a gap of about 5 seconds between you and the car coming up in the first lane. Walk straight out. If the car in the next lane stops, cross that lane. If it doesn't, hold up your hand in a peremptory fashion and carry on walking. Do the same in subsequent lanes until road crossing is complete. Act at all times as if the road belongs to you and all vehicles must make way for you at all times. I am certain that if you used this approach in Britain you'd immediately be run down, but here it actually works, the cars do stop. Mostly.

Buying food. I can now use the local shops in Mokattam to buy fruit and vegetables, bakery products and general grocery items. Pointing gets you a long way in such situations. Aside from the time I bought two kilos of peaches when I meant to buy just two (two kilos of peaches is A LOT), it's mostly been pretty successful. I also have my own supermarket, Ragab and Sons, for other stuff. My main problem is meat, specifically the difference between lamb and beef. It's always a surprise when I start cooking which it is we've ended up with.

Finding a job. Not only did I find a job, I found a job I love and believe it or not I have now clocked up 202 teaching hours. No doubt I'll be posting about this at some point too, but I actually feel as if I have found my vocation. That's not to say that I feel I wasted all the previous years; I actually think they have made me a better teacher. I read an article the other day (I say this a lot, you may have noticed) about finding your passion entitled Screw Finding Your Passion which basically says if you've got a passion, it will already be there surrounding you. This has turned out to be so true for me. When I think back to all those books, including so many about the English language, the degree in English Language and Literature I did purely for pleasure, how much I love my language, it seems so obvious now that teaching English is what I should be doing. 

Getting around on my own. Thanks to Uber and Careem (like Uber in Egypt), I can now get around independently, and pretty cheaply too. There have been some incidents, mainly involving drivers who can't seem to use a GPS and resulting in me having to ring A to talk to them in Arabic, but it means that I feel so much more independent. The funny thing is that now I know I can do it, I don't feel so much need to do it. 

Sunset from the balcony

I started writing this blog during a really shitty day, and once I started I realised quite how much I have achieved since I arrived, which believe it or not dear blog readers, is over 12 weeks. So I'm making this post a two-parter and will post more on this in the next few days. For balance, I'll also talk about some of the things that haven't gone quite so well... 

In the meantime, my photography skills are getting a bit better too so here's one of my recent efforts!

Culture shocked

I have two amazing things to comment on before I start talking about the subject of this blog. Firstly, my blog posts have been read over 1500 times. I find it completely incredible that people want to read what I've written at all, never mind 1500 times! Secondly, I have now been in Egypt for over eight weeks. Eight weeks! It seems incredible, I feel as if I have been here so much longer and yet it is only eight weeks. I feel as if I have only just arrived and yet it has already been eight weeks. And therein lies the problem - being realistic, eight weeks is not a long time.

I am just coming out the other side of several spectacular meltdowns. With hindsight, there were many contributing factors, but the precursor to all of them was being on my own in the apartment for too long. The most recent time was because of the Eid Al-Adha feast and self imposed imprisonment in the apartment (if you want to know why look this feast up on the internet...but only if you have a strong stomach). As I may have mentioned to some of you, I have a counsellor who specialises in expats and she's great. For any expats reading this the link is Expat Nest if you want to have a look. She also does a great blog. Anyway, one of the things she suggested is to explore how I actually feel when I start going into meltdown, because by doing this I can start working out why it happens and how to nip it in the bud. Well this morning I got a chance to try this out. I slipped in the shower and hurt my back on Thursday, so I couldn't go to work that day and couldn't move yesterday. And I knew I wasn't going to see A until tonight. I could feel a meltdown approaching and I realised that the longer I'm on my own, the more likely a meltdown is to happen. So I booked a car with Careem (like Middle-Eastern Uber) and went to the Community Services Association, which is in Maadi, where lots of expats live, and provides services for expats in Cairo. I haven't been before. They have a nice cafe, some shops, a library and everyone speaks English - and they have WiFi!!! I did the same on Wednesday - went to Cairo Festival City Mall for a dose of Western-ness. It's amazing what a difference it makes, although it would be hard to pinpoint why. My counsellor says it's not about the actual place, it's about the feelings it gives you when you're there. In a sea of constant unfamiliarity it makes such a difference to hear your own language, even if it's not being spoken to you.

Coincidentally, I had to read an article on culture shock while I was on my teacher training course, so I decided to do a bit more research on it. It turns out I'm in stage 2 (The Distress Stage). The symptoms of stage 2 are:

1. Feelings of sadness and loneliness
2. Heightened irritability
3. Feelings of anger, depression, vulnerability
4. Insomnia or sleeping too much
5. Constant complaints about the climate
6. Continual offering of excuses for staying indoors
7. Utopian ideas concerning one’s previous culture
8. Continuous concern about the purity of water and food
9. Fear of touching local people
10. Trying to hard to adapt by becoming obsessed with the new culture
11. Refusal to learn the language
12. Overwhelming sense of homesickness
13. Preoccupation about being robbed or cheated
14. Pressing desire to talk with people who “really make sense.”
15. Preoccupation with returning home
16. Questioning your decision to move to this place

So far I have experienced 1, 2 (just ask A...!) 3, 4 (both), 7, 8, 11, 12, 14, 15 and 16. No. 8 was caused by the inevitable stomach problems - I'm actually surprised it took so long for that to happen. It lasted ages and I had to get antibiotics from the pharmacy (which cost £0.40 - every cloud).

Believe it or not it actually makes me feel better to discover that I'm not, in fact, going nuts and this is all perfectly normal and to be expected. Two friends who have both lived abroad have pointed out that it is actually a positive to have reached stage 2 - at least that means I'm closer to stage 3! Which is re-integration if you're interested. The downside is that it can take several months to move through stage 2. This being the case, I have decided to be completely unapologetic about spending far too much money on drivers for the sole purpose of going to buy western style coffee. Every day that I'm off work and neither M nor A will be at home, I'm going to do something to get out of the apartment. The social network Internations for expats worldwide has been a total life saver as I have met so many people who I already consider to be friends, especially in the Writing and Reading groups. I can also see much potential in the CSA (as above) as they also have a gym and do exercise classes where I can meet more new people. It's really hard to force myself out to do things that are so much harder than they would be in the UK, and where I don't know any people, but when I do I certainly reap the benefits.     

Meanwhile, I have started doing a one-to-one lesson at the school. It's hardly worth it for the money once I deduct the cost of getting there and back, but it's really good experience of doing one-to-one lessons. The student is really lovely and I'm enjoying finding interesting things for him to do, that can't be done in a bigger class. I've been on a tour of old Cairo (organised by a friend via an Internations group), taking in 3 religions in one day. I enjoyed that very much and met more new people, some from Scotland! Experienced the lunar eclipse/blood moon from my balcony (at 4am) and it was cloudy. Yes! Cloudy! I haven't seen a wisp of cloud for 8 weeks and then suddenly it's cloudy when there's a lunar eclipse! Still, I did get some photos and the sky did go a very odd red colour. 

Looking back over the last 8 weeks, I also feel I have achieved a lot. Considering I was too scared to even cross the road on my own and found buying toothpaste a challenge, it's amazing what I can do on my own now, despite the language issues (see no. 11 above!) It's amazing how far pointing and waving can get you. Regarding no. 11, I am going to sign up for Survival Arabic courses that the CSA run, to force myself out of the waving and pointing rut.
I'm also going on holiday to Hurghada in just over a week to see my family. Needless to say I'm really looking forward to that, although I'm obviously not going for the sun!

I think I've covered most of my news. I'll finish with a photo of the lunar eclipse from my balcony (including extremely rare clouds).