Jenyfer Matthews

Now that my family and I have made our way safely back to the US via Istanbul, I’d love to relax a little. It seems self-centered and trite to complain about my own trials during the last couple of weeks when my own problems are minor inconveniences when put into the larger context of what is going on in Egypt right now.

We are out of harm’s way – no tanks in sight here – but still I am having trouble not obsessing about the situation. I am worried about what will happen next for the people still on the ground in Tahir Square and in the various protests around Egypt, and particularly for the many Egyptian shopkeepers and people I knew from my neighborhood. My family and I can leave, but how will all this upheaval effect their lives long term? Not surprisingly, I am concerned about what will happen next in my own life as well. At the core of it, I am a planner unable to formulate a plan at present.

It was extremely difficult to make the decision to leave Egypt – disrupting the school year and all of our usual routines, leaving friends. Even though we were there, it was very difficult to get accurate information without internet or phone service and to know whether or not leaving would be premature – or more scarily, too late. Now that I have left, it is still difficult to make decisions because no one knows what will happen next. Should I homeschool and hope we can return sooner than later? Should I enroll the children in school here? Will we be able to return in the short term? Who knows – not me.

I do hope that the friends and neighbors who stayed behind, sure this would all settle down within a week, a month tops, are correct, but I personally could not have lived that length of time on little sleep and adrenaline. I didn’t bring any books with me to pass the time, but it doesn’t matter because I can’t concentrate on anything but reading Facebook posts from friends still hunkered down in Cairo.

I fired the maid.

I tried to like her, I really did. She worked for us for six weeks and she was (nearly) always on time and fairly industrious while she was working. She didn’t stop for breaks or lunch, she just worked straight though. She was nice and seemingly trustworthy as well. With all that going for her, why did I let her go?

I fell back on the it’s-not-you-it’s-me argument.

I found myself going behind her and being frustrated because she had dusted around things instead of moving them. When she did move things, she didn’t put them back the way they had been in the first place. She’d take the cushions off the couch to vacuum crumbs and put the cushions back zipper side out. She’d leave the windows open after she cleaned them with no screens and let in flies. I always felt I had to leave to be out of the way and a few times I came back and found that she’d finished and left early, but hadn’t totally cleaned up after herself. I didn’t care if she finished and left, but I wasn’t happy about finding my kitchen sink half-full of dirty water from where she’d done something (???) and scooted out.

I really tried to focus on the bigger picture and just accept the less perfect aspects. I even tried to give her more direction about what I wanted done and how, but when I started thinking that I would just do my own bedroom… and the kitchen… and the bathrooms… I decided to follow my impulse and just let her go and do it all myself. As guilty as I felt about letting her go, I was so so happy to have the house to myself again. I guess I’m just a territorial freak.

Since I’ve been on my own again, I have cleaned my refrigerator, the microwave, under all the beds, and the under-stair storage room in my kitchen. It feels good actually.

My daughter was asking for more allowance recently so I decided to let her have a go at cleaning the bathrooms. We’ll see how long her enthusiasm for her new job lasts, but she doesn’t have to love it – she just has to do a decent job of it. As for the rest, I may not get things done in one day – and in a family of four nothing will stay clean for long – but at least when I do get around to my various chores, I’ll know they are being done to my standard. It’s much easier to ignore my own imperfections and shortcuts than someone else’s…

I’ve gotten up early the last few mornings to wrap presents before the children wake up because I can’t seem to outlast them at night anymore!

I used to enjoy wrapping presents. I remember asking my mom to let me wrap her presents for her, which she was only too happy to let me do. It was fun to choose complementary paper and bows. It was something of an artistic process for me, creating a beautiful package, though I was never very good at tying pretty bows – I relied more on stick-on bows or curly ribbon or a combination of both.

So why is it that wrapping presents now is such a chore? One problem is perhaps the lack of inspiring wrapping paper. My mother had a huge selection as she bought a few new rolls every year. Nice quality wrapping paper is hard to get in Cairo and the few nice rolls I bought from a friend (who imported it from England) is fast dwindling. It doesn’t help that my son, in his early Christmas enthusiasm, got into my supply and used way more than was necessary to wrap his sister’s present and cut it badly besides. Sigh.

I do have pretty ribbon and tags, thanks to a friend in America who shipped them to me via a friend of hers at the US Embassy, but I’m still not much good at tying bows. Did you know that you could split wider flat ribbon and curl it with scissors? Maybe you already did, but I just learned that trick and used it to my advantage this morning.

I could of course just use gift bags; however, while convenient, bags are just not as tactile or fun. Children like to rip paper. Also, bags are hard to pile under the tree. A tree with only bags standing in groups under it just looks…odd.

I ran out of boxes to wrap just about the same time I ran out of patience and tape. I still have a few more things to wrap but those items will go in bags…

I LOVE this song. I will never hear Roxanne by The Police again and not think of Rudolph.

I am not sure what I was thinking, but I finally did my present inventory over the weekend and found that I was woefully unprepared for the big day! I fooled myself into thinking I was ahead of the game by having bought each child their WOW gift and a few of the harder to get items in the US this summer. That might have still worked out okay, except that three different sets of relatives prefer to deposit money in our bank account and let me do the shopping, which is safer than mailing things. It’s not as if this is a new system so I am not sure why I blanked on that aspect of things so completely this year.

Then I “lost” a week in Germany. I did get my husband’s presents while I was away, and a couple of things for my daughter, but did not find anything that inspiring for my son. As luck would have it, the children were invited on a play date yesterday afternoon so after dropping them off, I headed straight to the mall!

It’s always a toss of the dice here in Cairo as to whether you’ll find anything worth having or whether the items you want will be in the size you are looking for, but usually if you are willing to pay enough you can find something to buy.

This is the only time of year I will just close my eyes and pay whatever shops are asking to get the job done. Really, what choice do I have? $60 for a sweatshirt? Okay. $50 for a child’s sport watch? Done – next. The beauty of this system is that 1) I’m mostly spending money from the family so it doesn’t “hurt” my thrifty bone so much and 2) since I spend all year saying “NO” to the children, they usually don’t realize that I am the one who has actually purchased all these previously denied items!

At least this time I am truly finished! Now, to find a quiet hour (or two!) to wrap things up!

I took a walking tour early on Friday morning around downtown Cairo to see and hear about the European architectural influences in the old buildings in that area. Normally I avoid the downtown area at all costs, because though vibrant I usually come home with a migraine from all the pollution. It’s like another world on a quiet Friday morning however.

According to our guide the current area of downtown Cairo, once a low lying swamp, was built using Paris as the model at the turn of the last century. I could see the resemblance…if I looked really, really hard and used my imagination. I admit it – I listened to him but I did not take notes, preferring instead to soak in the atmosphere and take pictures that I’d never be able to get if I had to watch dodge crowds of people or cars the entire time (as I would on a normal weekday). Read this article for more of an overview on the area.

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This is Tahrir Square, the main square downtown near which the American University in Cairo, the Egyptian Museum, and several large hotels are located. Don’t let the lack of traffic fool you – it was early!

Access to the underground transit train called “the metro” – I love all the cigarette butts on the mat at the entrance and the “no smoking” sign on the wall as you go down!

An old building that now houses offices and apartments, across from the main entrance of the AUC downtown campus.

I asked our guide about the general attitude to these buildings in Egypt. Let’s face it – they have historical antiquities 1000′s of years old so a hundred years it next to nothing. So many of the buildings are so sadly neglected and I have been given to understand from some others that most landlords would rather let the buildings fall down and replace them with high rises than put the money into restoring the old buildings. Was the government offering incentives to landlords to take care of their properties (or imposing any penalties). He answered that attitudes are changing which I was glad to hear. It would be a shame to lose this part of Cairo’s history to yet more concrete boxes.

Old meets new.

Not sure the aerials are an improvement!

Our guide was telling us about a historic building that now houses some ministry or other but I was more interested in using my super-zoom to catch this woman enjoying the morning breeze on her balcony. She looks like she’s enjoying herself.

The mural is apparently from the 70s but it’s still fun – does it make you think of Maggi Chicken Bouillon cubes?

There were some industrious people up and about – and those who were simply enjoying a glass of tea and a smoke.

Our guide called this the “eclectic building” because of the massively different styles from bottom to top. Just look at that incredibly detailed decoration at the bottom – all hand carved stone.

You won’t forget it…but you might regret it!

People watching goes both ways!

It’s sights like this that make me wonder how much longer these buildings will last – fire hazard much?

This is the traditional way to deliver “baladi bread”, the Egyptian flat bread. Takes talent, no?

This is a view of an ornate, sadly neglected and abandoned palace. Reminds a bit of the palace where the Prince might have found Sleeping Beauty.

According to our guide, this palace was once occupied by a school. Can you imagine how distracting this decoration might have been to little boys?

Our guide said he hoped that one day someone might turn the place into a boutique hotel – I think that is a fabulous idea, but they would have to do something about the view first!

We ended our tour with lunch a landmark cafe called Felfela – famous particularly for their “foul” (fava bean dip) and “tamiya” (think falafel made with fava beans) Hard for me to believe I’ve been here for nearly four years and never eaten there. I can say that it was worth the wait for the tamiya – it was fabulous. Maybe I should go downtown more often…

My trip back to Egypt went smoothly enough, in spite of a surprise re-route through Paris. I was worried about that – can you blame me after the trouble I had on the first part of my trip?? – but it all went well enough. I am almost positive two of my bags were over the weight limit but with the distraction of re-routing me and the children either the gate agent didn’t notice or chose to let it slide. Phew.

I arrived in Cairo three hours later than originally scheduled, just before iftar (the sunset breaking of the fast during Ramadan) and was a little concerned about that timing because typically nothing happens for about two hours after that. It was in fact the most efficient arrival I’ve ever experienced. I was through passport control in about five minutes and all of my bags came through one after another, bam bam bam. I was through customs and driving away in half an hour. Unheard of. The call to prayer (and the signal to eat) came as I was waiting for my driver to bring the car around. The timing worked out in another way as well: the roads were nearly empty so we cruised home in no time.

I can almost hear you thinking what’s the catch. Well, let’s just say I would advise you never to assume an airline with have the sense to throw a tarp over your luggage, even if it is raining steadily for a five hour layover. All of my bags were damp and the contents of two were actually wet. One quilting magazine and some other assorted paperwork were soaked. It could have been worse I suppose – at least all my new books were well protected (I tend to pack with lots of plastic bags, against interior explosions of shampoo, etc)

I’ve been back a day and my bags are unpacked and put away, until next time. I am however still settling in. After being in the quiet of the north woods for six weeks, things here seem really loud. Air conditioners perpetually blowing, two toilets running, traffic noise – not to mention the children. It will take me a little while to tune it all out again.

It’s quiet in other ways though. Two of my closest friends moved away at the end of June. No more girly chats, no more wine nights. No more silly text messages throughout the day. I’m sure I’ll find ways to fill in the gaps and distract myself but for right now it all feels a little hollow.

School starts on Sunday. I’ve been ALONE for more than half an hour since the end of June and I’m looking forward it. I haven’t been able to write since two nights before I left Minnesota and I’m itching to pick up the story again…

I’ve been making a bit of a spectacle of myself around the neighborhood recently because I have had it up to here with nearly being run down in the street every time I step outside these days. Since I’ve lived in the same neighborhood for the last four years and the driving / traffic hasn’t really changed much, I can only surmise that the difference is me.

I really need a change of scene.

Since the children have tennis lessons five days a week, I spend a lot of time walking them back and forth to our club. It’s not really that far, and most of the time it isn’t that big a deal. But there is one large, often problematic intersection that we need to cross in order to get to the club.

Picture it: first there is a busy traffic circle with six spokes coming in and out of it. Traffic in Egypt flows counterclockwise, as it would in the US, and were I to walk around that way, I would end up on the closer side to get to our club. However, one of the spokes in that direction is a particularly busy two-way street and the entrance off the circle is a bit blind for the cars so all in all it is worth the extra time and distance for me to play it safe and go around the other way.

Another spoke out of the traffic circle crosses over a railroad track and becomes a two-way boulevard which is immediately crossed by a large one-way street that runs parallel to the railroad track – this is of course the spoke I need to follow. Most of the time walking around the traffic circle clockwise isn’t a big deal, in spite of the one-way boulevard that feeds two lanes of traffic into the circle which I have to cross before I get to the railroad. The trains run infrequently and the parallel street to the railroad is often blocked by the traffic coming from the perpendicular street in to and out of the circle so crossing there isn’t always so bad either, even at rush hour.

(Traffic signals? Police directing traffic? Pshaw! It’s more of an ebb and flow. There are actually a few zebra crossings painted on the road but I’m sure that drivers are perplexed as to the purpose of such patterns.)

The problem lately has been in crossing the boulevard on the other side of the railroad track. There is an island in the middle of the lanes at the top of the street and I cross there so I only have to attempt half the street at a time. There is also a small snack kiosk on this island as well as a florist and people will pull up and park to get what they want – blocking traffic. The people coming along the street then become frustrated by the large speed bump and also the parked cars and will dart in and around, often at high speeds. And did I mention the side street that feeds in just there at a diagonal? That street is after the speed bump so most of the time cars coming from that direction will just merge as quickly as possible so as to get in front of the cars delayed by all the other obstacles. (You really do have to have eyes in the back of you head around here.)

It’s bad enough when I’m alone and some schmuck comes racing around a corner or around another car and misses me by inches, but it really pisses me off when my kids are with me. It scares them and me too. Most of the year I just mutter obscenities under my breath and keep going.

(My children are always so amazed when we are in another country and people actually yield to pedestrians. How sad is it that that makes such an impression on such young children?)

Lately I’ve been a bit more dramatic. I’ve only let a few colorful phrases fly, but I have been stopping in the middle of the street and ushering cars past with an exaggerated double arm wave and a bow. Occasionally I take a swing at them with a bag as they pass and have seriously contemplated kicking out a few headlights. I’ve yelled in a few open windows too. It hasn’t done much to change anyone’s behavior but it makes me feel a little better and I’m sure it amuses the traffic police who are loitering in the intersections smoking.

Yesterday evening as I was crossing with my daughter, a car came over the railroad at a high speed for a neighborhood street and then accelerated in spite of the fact that we were in the middle of the street and directly in his path. I had my hands full of stuff so wasn’t able to make the gesture I wanted, but I did yell. As we cleared the street and the driver passed me, he said “What?” Stop the car, buddy, and I’ll be happy to tell you what.

Need I say that I am counting down the days until my vacation??

A few weeks ago, at the end of May, I took advantage of a free annual physical that my husband’s employer was offering. I assume it was a way for the insurance company to gather data on the pool of participants so they could set the rates for next year, but whatever. Free check-up!

I did as much as I could that one day – blood work, chest x-rays, ECG, abdominal ultrasound, and an eye exam. I skipped the gynecological exam since I’d had one fairly recently, and was given a referral to another clinic for a bone density check and a mammogram. A week later I came down with a nasty virus and I was spending plenty of time seeing doctors, but I put the mammogram and bone density check out of my mind.

Until this week. I was planning to do the bone density check, which I assumed would be some sort of x-ray, and thought I’d skip the mammogram. I’ve never had one but I can say that every account I’ve ever had from anyone who has was completely off-putting. I tried to let myself off the hook by saying that breast cancer doesn’t run in my family and that my odds were also lower because I breastfed both of my children. In the end I guilted myself into going by saying that there might come a day when I wished I’d been more proactive.

I wouldn’t have procrastinated my appointment for so long if I had known it was going to be so amusing.

The bone density exam was a little more involved than I expected, but still just an elaborate xray. The table was so comfortable I could have taken a nap. Then came the mammogram.

I stepped into the next room with my female technician who instructed me to take off my top while she fiddled with putting x-ray films in the machine. Then came the funny bit: positioning my breast between the sheets of plastic.

I am a thin person, and not particularly well-endowed. Not quite flat-chested, but age and gravity have taken their toll. Picture this technician with her head scarf trying to hold my tiny breast in place with her hand as she attempts to squash it between two sheets of plastic for the x-ray. She kept getting her hand caught in the the process, then every time she opened the plates to free herself, my breast would slip out of position. I offered to help out but she wouldn’t let me (like I couldn’t see the markings on the plastic plate?)

I wish I’d had my watch on to keep track of how long it took her to get the necessary films, and knew how long it would take to do the same exam on a “perfect” subject. While she was adjusting my position, she asked me if I had children – I could hear the doubt in her voice. I told her yes, and that I had breastfed both of them and that the children were both HUGE. That got a laugh out of her.

The smashing part wasn’t bad – I think she took pity on my tiny orbs because she asked me if I was okay and in fact there was very little pressure at all.

After we finally got the films taken, I had the ultrasound done. These rooms all had at least two doors which could be locked and the doctors and technicians seemed to be pretty careful about how the exited so as to preserve some modesty for the patient. I appreciated that. After the ultrasound, the doctor handed me some tissue to wipe up the gel they used during the procedure and then opened the door to the hall to exit while I was lying there topless. Thanks a lot!

I was just preparing to leave when the first technician came to get me because the film of my left breast wasn’t good and we had to try again. More groping. Maybe I’ll bring some double stick tape with me next time!

A good friend happened to have the appointment just after mine. I never saw her but we were texting each other during little breaks in the procedures. She wrote to me to tell me that the mammogram technician was commenting to her that only small breasted women were coming in that day! (I always knew they talked about patients behind their backs!) My friend isn’t exactly small chested and she said as much. The technician replied that she had patients whose breasts oozed out from the sides of the plates. That was an image I could have lived without!

If only all doctor appointments could be so funny

Living an expat life means that people come in and out of your life regularly, often in two to three year cycles. Since we arrived in Egypt four years ago (FOUR YEARS!) this just happens to be one of those years where we are staying and several of my closest friends are leaving.

A normal reaction to leaving is to suddenly try to do all the things you’ve been meaning to do for years and have never gotten around to – usually sightseeing and shopping. One of the friends who is leaving arrived the same year we did, but somehow she never bought very much. She’s doing her best to make up for that now, before her shipment goes.

In an effort to be helpful and supportive, I accompanied her to the Tent Maker’s Souk on Monday this week, which is downtown near the Khan al Khalili bazaar.

The last time I visited the Tent Maker’s Souk was in 2004, when I was in Egypt as a tourist. It’s a marvelous place to go, but also very dangerous for me as a total, unrepentant textile whore. Just look at it – you’d have to be totally indifferent to fabric art or have will of steel!

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These are essentially applique pieces done on canvas. Originally these were done in large sheets of geometric design and used as the sides of wedding tents and such. Modern tents are usually done with fabric printed to look like the original applique and most of work done in the souk now is for smaller items like wall hangings and cushions.

This was one of the first pieces that caught my eye, however the shopkeeper didn’t want to bargain very much on the price. Since it was one of the first shops that we looked in, we decided to move on and see what else we could find.

This entire street is nothing but shops selling applique and fabric so we had loads of choices!

After looking at many variations on the same design, my friend ended up buying this lovely piece from a seven year old boy who was tending a shop – for about 1/6 of the price of the first piece I admired. When we saw this one initially we thought of it as “small”. Notice how much bigger the items look when you get them alone!

This is a fairly common sight in downtown Cairo – flat bread delivery by bicycle. I was thrilled to finally get my own picture of it, even if the light could have been better.

I really did think I might make it out of the souk with my money safely stowed in my wallet, and then I saw it. A small tree of life (27″x35″)

I was hesitating between this tree of life and another longer one in a shop across the street when the shopkeeper said he had a larger one in his shop around the corner. We followed him to his other shop – a stuffy room in a building down a mostly deserted alley. I am thrilled that we went though because it was there I found this item.

It was love at first sight. This is a design based on an ancient Egyptian motif and was unlike any of the other appliques I had seen that day. I had to borrow a little money from my friend to get both pieces, but how could I resist? The main challenge now is finding a place to hang it. It’s so pretty I want it in a place where I will see it often, but at 38″x49″ it has to have a fairly large space to hang. Since it’s smaller than the first one I admired and was also only half as expensive, I think I made a good choice all the way around.

Got this last shot on our way out. Another hasty shot – a car or person is always walking in front of you – but I still like it.

Last weekend I took a trip to the Wissa Wassef Art Center. I went to the ATM first, knowing that I’d find things that I wanted to buy.

The place was really amazing. It’s basically an art colony started in the 1950s. Everyone works together but they don’t make the artists wait for a piece to sell before they pay them, they pay them all along so that their art doesn’t become commercial and so that the artists only follow their pure creative impulses. They even grow plants to make their own dyes.

If you want to know more about the place, you should go to their website. I was too busy running around taking pictures!

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The wool weaving these ladies were doing was amazing – particularly as they were working strictly from a vision in their head — and working vertically!

You can see that the picture is coming out sideways on this one.

They also weave in cotton – the panels are smaller since the thread is so much finer than wool.

I felt my heart rate increase when I walked into this workspace – this man is making a batik panel, and as a quilter I love love love batik. It was a real treat to see how it is done.

I coveted this fabric but could never conceive of cutting it up for quilting!

The detail they manage to weave into these panels is just phenomenal!

This gigantic piece is actually three panels made over the course of three years.

This is some detail from the above panel. Amazing!

All of the above pieces were in the art center’s museum. I didn’t look very closely at the items for sale because they were too expensive for me to even consider. They started at $500 and went up from there. Worth every penny, but I wasn’t so sure my husband would agree with me!

I also resisted most of the pottery. It was pretty, but I have a habit of falling in love with teapots and then not using them.

I loved these little teapots but in an awesome display of willpower, I decided only to take pictures of them

I got this picture while we were waiting for our bus to pick us up. The whole trip was worth this picture – I see this all the time but almost never have my camera with me, or a zoom lens powerful enough to take a picture like this from so far away.

All in all, quite a satisfying way to spend a Saturday morning in Cairo.