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.

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.