Story of a trip to Alexandria

I had to go to Alexandria today with work, on the train. I booked my tickets yesterday through work. It never fails to amaze me how cheap it is. Given that Cairo is the capital of Egypt and Alexandria is the second city, and it takes two and a half hours, the ticket price of 72 Egyptian Pounds (about £5.60) for first class seems unbelievable. Admittedly it's not quite like Virgin Trains from Manchester to London, but then it doesn't cost £332 either (I just looked at the price online). Unfortunately I discovered this morning on the train that I'd booked tickets for the wrong day. Tomorrow, in fact. Luckily the train inspector took pity on me and let me off with it and tore my wrong ticket up. I think it was my horrified face. He said (I think) that I'd have to buy a new ticket for the return journey. 

I also discovered that I'd forgotten to charge up my work phone which ran out of battery about 6 minutes into the journey. Oh well. I was trying to finish Grapes of Wrath for Reading Club tomorrow anyway. So engrossed was I in GoW that I didn't notice that we were trundling through Alexandria. Last time I came here by train I got off at the wrong station and had to get a taxi to the right station because my driver was there. This time, as we pulling out of the right station, I suddenly realised that I should be on the platform that was now whizzing by. I'd missed my station AGAIN. So I didn't get to the office in time to start the meeting I'd arranged, but at least I amused everybody. 

I moved the meeting to 1pm then discovered I'd forgotten my notebook with all notes for the meeting. Had to filch one from a colleague, who'd just been laughing about the station. "What is wrong with you!" He said. Honestly - I wish I knew. Sent out some pre meeting information "for the meeting at 3". Confused meeting attendees. Isn't meeting at 1? Oh yes. Sorry about that. Seriously, what IS wrong with me? Due to lack of notes I had to blag in the meeting. 

Free ride on the train

Left for station ridiculously early in case I went to the wrong station. Bought another ticket. Train late. Watched two lads race for a train that was already moving...on the other platform. They jumped on to the rails and crossed over. Someone inside the train grabbed one of them. Then he grabbed the other. Both hanging off the rapidly speeding up train. My hair was standing on end. Watched another train coming in with a load of people standing on the engine, see photo. Sorry it's blurry but the train was actually moving quite fast and they weren't even holding on. Health and safety Egyptian style. 

Walked to the wrong end of the train (which is VERY LONG). Because it was about to leave I had to walk all the way back to the front through the train and I could see the ground rushing by in the gaps between the carriages. Small gaps but still! It was the ground and the metal thingies were moving about! A kind train man asked me where I was trying to go (at least I think that's probably what he asked), and I managed to say two in Arabic. Then he said something along the lines of you're in coach five. Coach two is that way. And I broadly understood!

I'm still on the train. I now have a cup of tea and a piece of English Cake. Given I lived in England for 29 years, it's surprising to note that I haven't got the first idea what English cake is. Turns out to be a bit like madeira cake with bits in. I'm hoping my adventures are over for the day but really, the way this day is going, it seems unlikely. I'll keep you posted. 

Post blog update: Well, I made it home without further incident. The positives from today are that I now know what English cake is and I managed to have a sort-of conversation in Arabic.

 

Notes from Hurghada

I'm so sorry, dear blog readers, that it has been so long since I last posted a blog. You'll be pleased to hear that this is because I've been so unbelieveably busy that I've hardly had a moment, but of course this means this will be a bit of a long blog post so I can catch you up will all the news. I've decided to commit to writing a blog post at least once a fortnight, even if it's a short one.

Goodness me where do I start? I think I'll start from now and work backwards. I'm in Hurghada at the moment. It was a really short notice trip for just two nights with a friend. This is one of the things I love about living in Egypt. You can decide at the last minute to spend a weekend by the sea in the sun, and the flight takes less than an hour. I felt I really needed this break because I have been really ill for over three weeks. I originally thought I had a virus because I had a temperature, aching joints and other symptoms which I won't desrcibe. But as I wasn't really getting better, I eventually decided to go to a doctor. Well I had already been to see a doctor at the Anglo American Hospital as an emergency (severe stomach pains) and whilst that helped with the acute symptoms, I still wasn't getting better. Anyway. The healthcare system here in Egypt is confusing (which is the kind word) and I didn't really have a clue how to find good doctor, so I looked on What Clinic. I went to see him and it turns out that using the criteria "having a kind face" for selection was highly successful. He was lovely. He asked about my medical history, spent loads of time talking to me and took care to make sure I understood what he was saying. It turns out there's a parasite that's endemic in the water here in Egypt called giardi which causes an illness called giardiasis. Which is what I've got. I was shocked. I always thought the water in Cairo was safe. I don't drink it out of the tap, but I do boil it up for tea and rinse my vegetables and fruit in it. Boiling it for tea isn't long enough apparently. So it's bottled water from now on, although the long term solution is getting a filter fitted to the water supply. I'm pretty sure he's right though because since I started the drugs he prescribed I feel a million times better. Thank GOD. The other good thing is that I now have my own doctor.

Ceiling of the Nilometre

A friend of mine who is a tour guide took me on a trip to the Umm Kulthum Museum and the Nilometre on Friday. Both of these were fascinating. I've written an article on Umm Kulthum for Oasis magazine (more on that later) so I won't repeat it here. The Nilometre was amazing. If there's one thing I love, it's functional items that are also beautiful. The Nilometre was built about 1200 years ago to measure the level of the Nile floods, and from that taxes were calculated. But for something with such a prosaic purpose, it's really quite beautiful inside. I have attached some photographs. Anyone in Cairo reading this, I highly recommend a visit. As with most of these hidden gems in Cairo, there was no-one else there. The guard had to unlock the door and switch the lights on for us.

I have been doing loads of writing, it's really quite incredible. And it all started with this blog and going to my writer's group. I have written four articles that have been published in the CSA magazine Oasis - the CSA is the expat association. I have attached links at the end for anyone wants to read them. Even more astonishing than this, I have had an article published on the online English Language Egyptian newspaper, Egyptian Streets, and it was shared over 1000 times. I was completely overwhelmed. It was my friends in the writer's group who said I should send it for publication but I was stunned when it was actually published. There's a link to that too at the bottom. Despite my lack of blogs, I do love writing. I've found that in some really difficult moments it has helped enormously to write stuff down. Maybe I'll use some of this in the future to write a book.

My job is going really well. I love it. Obviously it has its challenges but I don't think I could find a job that better suits my skills. It's also a lovely place to work socially, my colleagues are friendly and in the main easy to work with. I also have the best boss IN THE ENTIRE WORLD (...and his wife reads my blog hee hee!) The only problem really is that my salary is being gradually eroded by the appalling exhange rate between Egyptian pounds and every other useful currency (£, $ Euro). I also have a driver which makes my commute so much easier. What I should do on my commute is revise my Arabic or something else useful; what I actually do is check my Facebook news feed, look at Buzzfeed, play Words with Friends etc. The most amazing thing about my job is that I have to go to events at the British Embassy. So far I have been to the Cambridge International Exams and Pearson Edexcel High Achiever's Awards, a dinner with the Royal College of Surgeons and the Queen's Birthday Gala. It's unbelievable. I've met the British Ambassador. He's lovely. A came to the Queen's Birthday Gala and, like all of us, fell in love with the Ambassador, who gave a whole speech in Arabic.

In terms of living in Cairo, I'm truly amazed at what I can do now compared with when I first arrived. I am happy travelling all over the place to go to work and meet friends. I can go to the shops and buy food and other things (except the butcher). I am progressing in Arabic (but it is really hard!) I have a life here and friends, and I do interesting things. Sometimes, though, I am gut-wrenchingly homesick, which was particularly true when I was sick. The longer I live here the more layers of Egyptian culture I uncover, and the more I realise just how different these two cultures are. Many things about Egypt get me aerated, but there are also many things that I love, although I'm almost at the end of my rope with the fact that we still don't have broadband.

I'm also still teaching my group of young ladies. They are still a pleasure to teach and I love it. They are so enthusiastic. I must admit it's good to teach when you can choose your pupils. One of my friends teaches and some of her students aren't nice to teach at all. I'm not sure how I would cope with that.  But it's good to keep my hand in with the teaching.

Chico

Oh yes - big news. I have a cat. I'm supposed to have two cats but one cat is a bit poorly and is still in the shelter. My cat is called Chico and he's about 4 years old. He's a bit of a character. Very lovey dovey one minute and then trying to bite my hand off the next. Sigh. Still, I do love him and it's really nice to come home to someone who's pleased to see me. It makes the apartment less empty when A isn't there, which is a lot of the time. It would be a lie to say that everything is rosy in the garden in my relationship. The challenges of an intercultural relationship have been well and truly brought home to me over the last few months. It really doesn't help that the tourist industry in Egypt is rock bottom - I read the other day that tourist numbers had dropped again in March - I find it hard to see how they can go down much further. This has caused a lot of stress and one of A's businesses has had to close down. So tempers are fraying. But I think our commitment to each other is as strong as ever and we're trying hard to get over these bumps in the road. I can't deny that it's hard though sometimes.

My life in Cairo continues to develop. I now have loads of friends, including some Egyptian friends. We went to see the opera Aida a few weeks ago in Cairo Opera House. Opera isn't really my thing but it was an experience. I think Aida is supposed to be a beautiful young maiden, rather than a fat woman of my age who groans when she stands up, and I think the hero is supposed to be young and fit, not a short fat Korean. But still. It was still good fun. I'm still going to writer's group and reading group, and various other things that get organised on Internations. I am a member of a quiz team for the fortnightly quiz at the British Community Association.

I'm sure there's more to tell you but that will have to wait for a future blog. In the meantime, I'm going to enjoy my last day here in Hurghada.

Egyptian Streets Article

Is love enough?

Culture Shocked

The things we do for love

A coffee, a croissant and a whole new life, please (page 87)

Letter to Cairo taxi drivers

Dear Cairo taxi drivers,

I read an article in the newspaper recently and it made me angry. I had to write and tell you why. The article said that there might be traffic problems in Mohandiseen because you are demonstrating against Uber and Careem. In taking this action, you are following the taxi drivers of many cities across the world who object to being undercut, mainly by Uber. I think some of the arguments put forward have merit, particularly around licensing and insurance. Before I moved to Cairo from the UK six months ago, I had read that taxis are plentiful and cheap, and I have found this to be true. So why would I use Uber or Careem? Well I want you to know that I really did try and use you after I arrived, but you made it so hard and inconvenient that eventually I gave up.

Where I live (apparently)

Are you interested to know why? Because it has nothing to do with cost or the number of taxis, because they certainly are cheap, and there seems to be thousands of them on the roads. If you are so keen on getting my business, why is it that when I’m standing by the side of the road and you veer across three lanes of traffic to get to me, you then screech off in a cloud of burnt rubber when I say I want to go to Mokattam, as if I’d just asked you to take me to the inside of a sewage factory? I plaintively stand there by the side of the road, taxi after taxi zooming up, and just as quickly zooming off. The driver looks at me disdainfully for having the cheek to think he should take me to Mokattam. I have given up several times and decided that I didn’t really need to go wherever it was I was trying to get to. In fact I was an illegal alien for 24 hours because I couldn’t get a taxi to Mogamma. Twice I have been told by taxi drivers to get out of the taxi because they didn’t realise I wanted to go to the moon. I didn’t want to go to the moon obviously, I only wanted to go to Mokattam. One time, after my husband told you to turn right at Mo’men, you refused to take me any further because Mo’men is where you’d been told to go. I had to walk the last half mile in the blazing heat. Just the other day, I asked one of you to take me from Zamalek to Nasr City, and you actually used curse words to me. I know this because I was with an Arabic speaking friend, who was pretty shocked. Occasionally, I can’t find an Uber or a Careem to take me where I’m going, but it’s rare. 

Every female passenger has a dilemma. Which risk are you least prepared to accept? Certain death in an accident because the seatbelts in the back of taxis rarely work, or being harassed in the front but more likely to survive in an accident because of a working seatbelt? It’s a poser, I can tell you. Given the statistics on sexual harassment and fatal car accidents in Cairo, it’s something of a Hobson’s choice. I sit in the back, in the hope that your insane weaving through the traffic at ridiculous speeds won’t make me one of those statistics. The back seatbelts in Uber and Careem always work. Not only that, I can actually give feedback on, and complain about, the driver if he tries to harass me, although this has never happened.

There are some decent taxis on the road, but as far as I can see the majority are, quite literally, falling apart. I got one taxi to Mokattam from downtown, and one of the back wheels fell off. I did notice that this was a particularly decrepit taxi, but I was so happy that a taxi was taking me back to Mokattam that I decided to risk it anyway. And the driver was about 106 so I thought I could probably fend off any groping. About half way through the journey, off went the wheel. He fixed it back on, but we went six miles (six miles!) with the back wheel wobbling around, threatening to fall off again at any moment. Teenagers on motorbikes were racing past (helmetless, naturally), pointing and laughing hysterically. Mini bus drivers and passengers were yelling at the driver – as if somehow the fact that we were bumping along like a donkey cart with square wheels wouldn’t be apparent to us. Uber and Careem cars are relatively new, clean, the seatbelts work, and, crucially, the wheels are always intact and stay that way for the whole journey.  

And then we come to the price you charge. I have been in taxis where the meter is whizzing round like a hamster on speed. Or where the meter isn’t working. I once went from Agouza to Zamalek – basically one side of the river to the other - and the driver tried to charge me 100LE. Despite me repeatedly saying “I live here” he kept telling me it was 100LE. I gave him 18LE which was still over the odds. Then there was the time I ended up stranded at Cairo Festival City Mall. Unfortunately my look of desperation was probably obvious to you. I had to pay 100LE for that journey. It usually costs me 35LE. Why do you do this? Why? Why? I have railed about it to my Egyptian husband, and his explanation is that some Egyptians are more interested in the immediate gain rather than the appalling impression that this behaviour creates. I know I was naïve when I arrived, and oh how that naïveté was exploited by you.

Every single one of these experiences has happened to me in the last six months. Until I gave up, it honestly felt like I couldn’t get a taxi without some incident or other happening. Once I worked out how to use Uber and Careem, I was a convert. Yes, I have had problems with them, but nothing compared to the issues I have had with taxis. Every time I have had an issue, I have been able to complain, and every single issue has been dealt with to my satisfaction. Every time I have had an issue with a taxi, I have complained to a cloud of dust. 

As a Western female living in a city where my grasp of the language is rudimentary, and where taxi drivers have a reputation for harassment, I feel extremely vulnerable. Uber and Careem aren’t perfect, but here’s the thing. They’re a lot better than you. They have allowed me to feel safer and be independent in my adopted city. 

So my message to you is this. Unless you address these issues, Uber and Careem will continue to take business that you think is rightfully yours. It isn’t. Instead of demonstrating in Mohandiseen, I suggest you get your act together and start emulating the competition, instead of complaining about it.  

Yours sincerely

An ex-passenger

Letter to Bracken

I lied in my last post. I said it was going to be about the things I have learned about myself since I moved to Cairo. That one is still in production, but I have a more important one to write first.

I read an article today entitled Expat Loss: Dealing With Leaving Your Pet Behind*. I had to leave my dog behind when I moved to Cairo, so I am going to take the advice in the article and write her a letter.

Dear Bracken,

When I rescued you, you were already 13. You were a bit chubby due to lack of exercise and crap food, and you had arthritis in your back legs which had been left untreated. You were so anxious about every new experience. Over the next three years we faced many challenges together, but we sorted your back legs, your doggy dementia and your weight problem. You gradually came out of your shell and became the Bracken we know and love today. You might be an old lady of 16, but you're still like a playful pup at times and live your life to the full.

You must have wondered why, after all we went through together, I left you. Well I can tell you it was the hardest decision of my life, and you were one of the main reasons why. The thought of not being able to pick you up and cuddle you whenever I want (not that you like that anyway so you're probably happy about this), not seeing your cute little face in the morning and not being able to watch you do your 'mad dog' thing as you hurdled through the french windows, filled me with grief. Actually, it still does. But I had to take this one chance at a different life. To begin with I thought that I would wait until you passed away, but you're a tough little thing (thankfully) so I could have been waiting a long time. Then I thought I would take you with me, but then I realised this was totally selfish. You are just too old to justify putting you through the trauma of the journey. Also, you're designed for howling gales and lashing rain, not 45 degree heat. You'd have hated it here.

I was so lucky that Granny and Grandad gave you a home. Now you have constant attention, another doggy friend, lots of lovely treats (because unlike me, Granny likes cooking, and Grandad is a total soft touch) and lots of walking and sniffing. You have settled in brilliantly and have really bonded with both of them, but Granny especially. Grandad calls you wee Snudge. You seem really happy and healthy from all the photos they send me. You're still an amazing little dog. I'm so glad about this but I want you to know that I miss you dreadfully. I think about you all the time and constantly look at photos of you. I long to stroke your soft ears and give you a back leg rub - you know, the one where you stretch your legs right out and almost do a belly flop.

I might get another dog here in Cairo, God knows there are plenty of dogs needing to be rescued. If I do, I want you to know that you will always be my number one dog. No dog can replace you in my affections. I love and miss you so much, and I wish there was a way I could get you to understand that. I'll ask Granny to give you a massive hug from me and you can wriggle indignantly.

Lots of love poochkins,
Carol

* Expat Nest (www.expatnest.com) is a professional online counselling service for expats.

Trigger thumb, mosquito bites and other assorted minor ailments

I had a look at my blog post list a minute ago, and discovered to my total amazement that my blogs have been read exactly 3000 times. I'm overwhelmed and delighted about this. As I haven't written one for a while, this prompted me to get my ass in gear. So here is the news.

I was meant to start my new job with the British Council on 3rd January, but a comedy of errors ensued and I didn't start until the 6th January. I arrived back from the UK late afternoon on 2nd, and dutifully texted my new boss to ask what time he wanted me to start the following day. "Oh are you starting tomorrow?" he replied. "I thought you were starting on 5th!" I asked if he wanted me to start on the 5th, secretly relieved, as I felt pretty knackered from the journey. We agreed I would start on the 5th. It was not to be. I spent the whole of the night of the 4th and the morning of the 5th throwing up. I did actually consider trying to drag myself out of bed to go to work, but decided that having to rush to the loo every five minutes was not the first impression I wanted to create. So I reluctantly let them know I wasn't going to make it in. Luckily I felt too ill to be worried about how this would look.

I still felt pretty crap on the 6th, but I had at least stopped throwing up. Unfortunately, on the night of the 5th, a mosquito had snuck into our bedroom unnoticed by me (I'm usually pretty good at spotting the little f***ers but I can only assume one of them took advantage of my distressed situation) and had to go to work with my top lip and left eye swollen and red. God knows what they thought. Botox gone horribly wrong maybe? I really wasn't myself that day but luckily most of it was spent doing administration type stuff and observing a training session. Then the 7th January was a national holiday for Coptic Christmas, so my first week at work ended up being one day long.

I really needed the three days off because then I caught the worst cold ever in the history of colds. It also progressed backwards - it started with a cough, then a sore throat, then a runny nose and sneezing. I think I must be run down or something because I don't normally get colds. I still haven't got rid of it in fact. Added to this list of minor ailments and mosquito bites, I have also got a condition called trigger thumb. I'm absolutely convinced this was caused by a mad cleaning session I had in the apartment just before I went back to the UK. I always knew cleaning was bad for you. I've got to go to the hospital tomorrow to have that looked at, because it's really painful when I write, which is a bit of problem when you need to write down a lot of new stuff because you've just started a new job.

But wait! There's more. I went to my dentist in Scotland while I was back because I had an abscess. I've got a bridge over a two-tooth gap, and apparently the roots in the two retaining teeth at one end of it have died. As it was Christmas week, I couldn't get it done in Scotland, so I had the daunting prospect of finding a dentist in Cairo. This turned out not to be as hard as I thought it would be. There's a dentist opposite the hostel called (wait for it) George Edwards, who is, in fact, Egyptian. He was lovely, and a great dentist. So out of all these ailments, the teeth turned out to be the easiest to resolve.

I came to the conclusion that things could only get better on the job front, after starting a day late with an upset stomach, unfortunately located mosquito bites, trigger thumb, a hideous cold and a huge abcess in my mouth. Sure enough, I started afresh on the Sunday, and this week has been really good. The people seem to be lovely, the office is great, the job so far is well within my sphere of expertise, and I can sit out in the sun to eat my lunch. So I am feeling positive about it and hopefully this will continue. Insha'Allah as we say over here.

I'm also going to start an English class tomorrow to keep my hand in with the teaching. They are a lovely group of people and I think they'll be good fun to teach. The slight issue is that our dining table and chairs haven't arrived so my classroom will be a bit makeshift. They were supposed to arrive on Tuesday. In a totally unsurprising turn of events, they didn't. And I STILL don't have a dishwasher, or a phone line. On the plus side I do have some lounge furniture, so we don't have to use plastic garden chairs and a plastic stool as a table any more. As it happens, the couch is also meant for the terrace, but as we're still waiting for the other couches, we're using it instead. Our coffee table is traditional arab style and is hand crafted to an original design. You can see it in the photo. At least when stuff does eventually arrive it's of great quality. We are getting there slowly.

That's pretty much all of my news. My next blog post will be about the things I have learned about myself in the last 12 months. I didn't think I had much more to learn about myself, but moving to Cairo has proved me wrong.

RIP Baraka

Following my last post, I have to share some sad news. I'm really sorry to report that Baraka, the dog I was going to adopt from ESMA, died while I was back in the UK for Christmas. I am really sad about this because instead of ending her life in peace and security, she ended it in pain and misery. This was no fault of the wonderful people at ESMA, she just wasn't doing well in the shelter.

I will adopt another dog from ESMA, but the problem is that I found it all so distressing that I don't want to go back. ESMA are being great though and are working with me on a way to see some dogs without having to back to the dog shelter. I'll keep you updated.

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.