My Baby

It seems as though all of our friends who have a blog are blogging about their babies or their efforts to make a baby these days. They're proud of their babies who are sitting up or rolling over. They're proud of their baby's first day of school. They're proud of their baby's first college football game or Labor Day cookout. In an effort to make sure that I keep up and continue to belong to this evolving and remarkable group of friends I felt compelled to blog about my baby.



My baby is so stinkin' cute I can't stand it. Look at that face. Not only is he adorable but he can do his own laundry and pay for my drinks! Now without being too boastful I would be remiss if I did not point out that, while your baby is sitting up in a Bumbo chair without any help, my baby is riding his bike on the highway in Cairo, Egypt on the first full day of Eid after Ramadan. Imagine a highway in the States on the day after Thanksgiving and the Superbowl just let out. Just sayin'.

Henry L. Johnson, How Do I Hate Thee...

It seems sad that I have such strong feelings about a man I've never met. I mean, at first I felt sad for the guy, and then I was a little irritated but at least patient. But recently? Well, I'm starting to despise the man and cursing his children is not far away.

Who is this man? I don't know either. But Henry L. Johnson is a name my household hears of fairly regularly. At the worst times of day and night. It would be one thing if we were in the United States and the phone calls arrived at a reasonable hour, but 7 hours ahead, they now arrive at 2 or 3am.

What's the deal? Well, apparently there are a number of credit agencies trying to get in touch with Mr. Henry L. Johnson. And by credit agencies, I mean computers calling old numbers of his. Apparently at some point in his life, he put our phone number down on a piece of paper. So now, we get the pleasure of receiving his phone calls. Each phone call usually has a way to inform them that this is not his number, and when we do reach a person, they are almost always very apologetic. It's not their fault.

It's his.

It's been a year of this. For a while I thought we had escaped it since we hadn't received a phone call in a few months. But we got another one the other day, which probably means more will follow it. They're like ants you know. Ants looking for sugar.

Maybe I should kick off my own search for him, so that I may find some peace and sanity.

Naming Children

On Tuesday I took a cab home from work. Nothing special there, just another day driving down the Corniche. About 10 minutes into the ride though, the driver got a phone call. All of a sudden his face lit up and he was clearly elated about something. Through his broken English and my poor Arabic, he gets across that his wife just gave birth to his first son. (His first 2 children were girls and he's been hoping for a son.) Now that he has a son, the baby factory is done. Khalas!  I told him congratulations then he asks me, what he should name his new son.

Excuse me? (There is no way I'm picking the name for this guy's kid.)

But he insists! I tell him it's an important decision and he should choose. The cab driver pushes back and insists that I choose the name because he's so happy he can't think straight. I suggested his name, (no way), maybe his father's name? (No way, same problem.) How about mom's father's name. (That's absurd.) So he rattles off a few Egyptian names and I picked one at semi-random. (Ibrahim. Why not?) He likes it and rolls with it!

A few minutes later apparently his father-in-law calls and he informs him of his choice of names. It sounds like the Father-in-law wants to know where he got the name from, because he turns and asks me what my name is. Apparently it goes well because he keeps insisting on Ibrahim. A few minutes after that, his wife calls (mind you, she just finished a c-section) and he informs her of the son's name and where it came from. After all this, he looks at me and says, "That it! She agreed to it! Ibrahim it is!"

I said congrats, paid him a healthy tip and got dropped off a little farther from home than I would have liked to help him get on his way to his wife. How cool is that? I named some guys kid!
......
or did I?
....
So I told this story to a co-worker the next day and he tells me that a few guys we had in from the U.S. last week had a similar experience just last week.  Hrm.. ok, I'm getting suspicious, but maybe people time childbirth for Ramadan?  I did find it a little odd that when I offered to get another cab so he could go to the hospital he was ok with taking me all the way home.

So the next night, I got into another cab and wouldn't you know it, this taxi driver just had twins while we were driving down the road! Amazing!

Nice try buddy, but here's the normal fare.

On the first day of school my principal gave to me...

A brand new MacBook Pro!

Yes, I too was shocked and amazed. The first week of orientation has come to a close and I continue to be impressed by the school administration as well as my fellow incoming teachers. We have sat through many informational sessions from a crash course in introductory Arabic to an overview of the curriculum development and evaluation process. Time and again I have noticed the little things that have been done to make us feel welcome and well informed. Returning teachers have volunteered to be our "buddies" and touch base with us regularly. Dinners have been arranged and paid for and every effort has been made to ensure that we have access to what we need in order to be effective in the classroom. The energy level on campus is ramping up as we get ready for the returning teachers and full staff orientation next week.

I am finding the task of setting up my room to be a bit daunting. This is the first time in 8 years working in education that I have had my own classroom. I look at my space and think, "8 years from now I will know exactly where to put that [insert classroom item here: book shelf, couch, table, filing cabinet etc]. For now I am focusing on what I am good at: purging junk, straightening shelves, cleaning surfaces and organizing materials. I am having a similar internal debate over posters and bulletin boards. I want them to have a purpose, not just cover the walls to look pretty, but am finding that a blank wall or bulletin board brings up the same anxiety that a blank journal book does: "What ever goes in/on it has got to be fantastic." I have no less than 3 blank journal books in my office that have been given to me as gifts over the years and I love them. They hold unlimited potential for captivating narratives or travel logs. While the journals stare blankly out from my shelves, it is getting close to the time when I need to put something up on my classroom walls, fabulous or not!

If you have any memories from your first days of school at any grade level I'd like to hear them, especially if they involve bulletin boards.

A Long London Layover

I began the long journey home to Cairo this past Friday evening. After a smooth flight from Dulles to London I found myself with 12 hours to fill before my connection to Egypt. Typically I play it safe as a traveler and prefer to stick close to the airport, not taking any unnecessary risks that could result in missing connections. But I had never been to London before and wanted to take the opportunity to explore the city and see some history. I also wanted to scope it out as a potential future posting for us.

After dropping my carry-on bag with an airport service for 8 GPB I bought a day pass for the Undeground and city map to plan my afternoon. The professor I had for my last class this summer is from the UK and she had given me some recommendations of things to see and do. Based on her suggestions Hyde Park was first on my list. After 9 hours of sitting I was game for beating a path around a wide open green space.





I was not disappointed. As I walked along the paths, being passed by cyclists and joggers, I made a mental note to pack my running gear in my carry-on the next time I have a layover like this. My first stop was this statue of Achilles, which was commissioned by King George IV to honor British soldiers.



From there I walked on and discovered this "tree house". Not in the sense that we typically use the term but the tree had grown over in such a way that close to 15 children were playing inside of its branches:



I continued along the path to The Princess Diana Memorial Walk around Serpentine Lake



These deck chairs were set up in rows along both sides of the lake. There were several park workers scattered among them in bright yellow vests. When you sat back to relax and watch the rowers on the lake the park workers would make their way over to you to collect the 50 pence per 30 minute fee for using the chairs. Not surprisingly many chairs remained empty while the public park benches were usually full.



On my way across the park to the other entrance I spotted this group of roller skiers. The instructor is sitting on the fence in the left of the frame. It appeared to be a group of beginners as they were taking turns drifting across the path and running out into the grass. It's never to early to get ready for ski season!



The opposite entrance to Hyde Park lies near the Marble Arch. This archway was the original entrance to Buckingham Palace in 1828 but was moved to this site when an extension was built on to the palace leaving insufficient space for the arch.



From Hyde Park I made my way over to Buckingham palace in time to see the changing of the guards. Frankly, I found it unimpressive (the changing of the guards, not the palace). It's got nothing on Arlington Cemetery and the Tomb of the Unknown. Nevertheless crowds were packed along the fence and scattered all over the fountain across the square. I didn't have time to take a tour but I'd be interested to see the inside of the palace on day.







The statue and fountain above are details from an enormous fountain in the square across from the palace that was a gift to Britain from The Netherlands.

The final stop on my whirlwind tour was Westminster Cathedral, the oldest Catholic Church in Britain. I felt uncomfortable taking photos inside as there were people worshiping but I wish I could have shown you the detailed chapels around the perimeter of the main sanctuary as well as the vaulted, domed ceilings black with soot from centuries of candle light. It is truly awesome to be inside these ancient structures and imagine what has taken place within these walls. Choir practice began as I was leaving making it feel as if I was walking back in time.





While sitting in the church I thought it might be a good idea to check my boarding pass to make sure that my departure time was still 10pm as my itinerary said. Someone must have been sending me a message because the departure time had in fact changed to 6pm. It was a good thing I hadn't started my intended walk further east toward Westminster Abbey. Instead I hopped on the "Tube" at Victoria Station and made my way back to the airport with a little time to spare. I would like to return to London some day, when I do I will make a point to see: The Globe Theater, Westminster Abbey, The Tower of London, and 221B Baker street. If you have any other recommendations drop me a line and I will add them to my list.

The Luckiest Man Alive

This past week, a pair of friends from the US showed up to visit in Cairo. Jason and Kristina were the first (and only) people who visited us in Georgia. They stopped by this week en route to South Africa to see the World Cup. We watched a lot of soccer, but they also did quite a bit of sight seeing around town.

On Thursday night, we went out to a friends house for dinner. At the end, we walked a few blocks, got a cab and drove home. After getting dropped off, we all immediately went to bed. The next morning, we were supposed to go to the Khan, but we quickly realized Jason couldn't find his wallet. We ransacked the house, but nothing. So we went over to the place we were at dinner with and checked that place out. Nothing. Crap. It's probably in the taxi.

So, while Jason went to cancel the credit cards, Kristina and I went to get some coffee. Jason realized he didn't know the address in South Africa to send the replacement cards to, so wound up just sitting around waiting for us to get back.

When we got back, we got the biggest surprise. EVER. The taxi driver found his wallet, tracked us down and delivered it.

• The taxi driver picked us up a few blocks away from our start, and dropped us off a few blocks from home. He did not know where to find us.
• There are LOTS of Americans where I live. I do not stand out that much on my own. Finding me required some inquisition.
• He didn't know the neighborhood. It's not uncommon when going from one part of town to another, to have to tell a taxi where to go. We had to share show him how to get my house.
• Timing: if he had arrived an hour earlier, we would have been downtown looking at the other place. A half hour later, he would have delivered useless hunks of plastic because they would have been cancelled. If we hadn't gone to coffee, he would have cancelled the cards even earlier.
• It is quite likely his holy day where he should be spending time with his family. But despite that he went out hunting around an unfamiliar part of town to find us.
• Honesty: There's no lost & found center, no dispatch for taxis here. This guy had access to 2 credit cards and a drivers license. He could have been scot free. But he decided to put in some serious effort and delivered Jason's credit cards.

Without this fortuitous piece of karma and good will from a stranger, Jason would have been surfing for at least the next several weeks in South Africa with no access to his cash and leaning heavily on Kristina. Nevermind the hassle of card cancellation and chaos of trying to match up delivery of a card with multiple stops throughout South Africa.

Luck, I spell you J-A-S-O-N.

Permission v. Forgiveness

A smart man once said, "Its easier to ask forgiveness than permission." He was probably talking about relations with his wife, but his statement applies to many situations, particularly in Egypt.

This morning I set out with two visiting friends and a cycling friend to go to the Olympic Stadium for a track workout. Meg had been an official at a track meet last month where we discovered this track. It's a reasonably well maintained all-season track, with all the expected markings on it. Perfect for running my (http://trackytuesday.blogspot.com) workout.

I tried to do this last week, but despite the fact that the gate was open, I made the mistake of asking someone when it opened. (They said 10am, which doesn't meet my needs.) I turned around and did my workout in the desert.

Today, we drove up and walked in with the plan of, "act like you're supposed to be here and no one will stop you." It totally worked. There was a womens track team just starting their "practice" but we ran anyway. A couple times I thought their coach was going to say something to us, but he was just getting ready to talk to his athletes. On the way out, there was a security guard, but there's no problem leaving.

I'm not sure we'll be able to do this indefinitely. Sooner or later someone might get up the guts to confront us. But for now: forgiveness: 1. Permission: 0.

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