It has been a while since i posted smth on this blog, but i've been busy with many many things. One of them, and the most important one is that i am getting ready to leave Egypt. It appears that my adventure here has come to an end, at least for this season of my life. There are too many reasons i am leaving and it is not even worth mentioning them.
So, i am trying to sort my life out, as someone once told me and exploring possibilities/opportunities.
If you ask me now, i do not know where i will be in the next 4 months ... dont even know what continent! Asia (first on my list), Africa, Middle East .... hmm...
I will keep this blog... i will probably rename it depending on the country i will be in. :)
Tomorrow i am off to Dahab for a little vacation. Only 4 days... but enough to breathe some fresh air and enjoy the sea for the last time.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
The postman ate my chocolate - Part 2
Right when i have given up my hope of finding the lost parcel from Belgium, i said i'd give it another try and go to the post-office (again!!). So, Sunday after a busy, long day at school with staff meeting et al, i went to Road 9 for the 4th time asking for my parcel.
Before i go on with the story i need to apologize to Mohammed, Ahmed, Mahmoud... or whatever his name is ... because he did NOT eat my chocolate... because there was no chocolate in it... only a teddy bear (the cutest Teddy Bear)!!!
Alright ... so, i am back on Road 9, at the post-office, this time under the "cobri" (bridge). I put on the sadest and angriest face (i was too tired) and start bursting out to the man: "I have received a parcel... the postman came to my door with it... i was not at home... now they tell me they dont have my parcel! I want my parcel!!" So, i keep going for 10 minutes on how i tried several times to get it.
The man behind the counter, looks at me, offers me a seat (i refuse, saying i am busy and i want my parcel right away!). The man asks me where i live ... right when i say Degla, he goes: "Ohh, Miss, your area belongs to another post office... and he tells me the name of it; never heard of it. I seem puzzled. I look at him, he looks at me... i say: "Now, what?". "Well, you need to go to that post office to get it!"
I get a little angry, and i tell him i dont want to go there (needless to tell him that all the parcels both me and Nichole have received before came to THIS post office).
He is still very calm (quite strange for an Egyptian); he calls the other post office, they check and .......... THEY HAVE MY PARCEL!! At this point i am excited ... I ask the man again how can i get it; he tells me i need to go there.
Here comes the funny part..... i ask him for the name again; he tells me the name, i dont understand any of it... i ask him for the address; he says he doesnt know and suggests i should take a taxi there. That is when i am loosing my patience (again!!) and raise my voice: "How on earth am i suppose to go there if i dont know the address and i dont know what to tell to the taxi driver???" The man offers to help me to get a taxi .... i'm even more surprised as i really have no idea where i am going....
In the end, i get on the taxi, having no clue at all where he is taking me. I suddenly remember i have only 20 pounds in my wallet and praying it wont cost me more than that to go there and come back.
I managed to find it and collect my parcel, after the guy looked at my passport and the parcel (which said "Gaby Mocanu") and asked me who is Gaby; i said: "It is me!" He points out that the passport says Gabriela.... At that point i was too tired to say anything... He gave me the parcel (i didnt have to pay anything to get it - which is quite unusual.)
Before i go on with the story i need to apologize to Mohammed, Ahmed, Mahmoud... or whatever his name is ... because he did NOT eat my chocolate... because there was no chocolate in it... only a teddy bear (the cutest Teddy Bear)!!!
Alright ... so, i am back on Road 9, at the post-office, this time under the "cobri" (bridge). I put on the sadest and angriest face (i was too tired) and start bursting out to the man: "I have received a parcel... the postman came to my door with it... i was not at home... now they tell me they dont have my parcel! I want my parcel!!" So, i keep going for 10 minutes on how i tried several times to get it.
The man behind the counter, looks at me, offers me a seat (i refuse, saying i am busy and i want my parcel right away!). The man asks me where i live ... right when i say Degla, he goes: "Ohh, Miss, your area belongs to another post office... and he tells me the name of it; never heard of it. I seem puzzled. I look at him, he looks at me... i say: "Now, what?". "Well, you need to go to that post office to get it!"
I get a little angry, and i tell him i dont want to go there (needless to tell him that all the parcels both me and Nichole have received before came to THIS post office).
He is still very calm (quite strange for an Egyptian); he calls the other post office, they check and .......... THEY HAVE MY PARCEL!! At this point i am excited ... I ask the man again how can i get it; he tells me i need to go there.
Here comes the funny part..... i ask him for the name again; he tells me the name, i dont understand any of it... i ask him for the address; he says he doesnt know and suggests i should take a taxi there. That is when i am loosing my patience (again!!) and raise my voice: "How on earth am i suppose to go there if i dont know the address and i dont know what to tell to the taxi driver???" The man offers to help me to get a taxi .... i'm even more surprised as i really have no idea where i am going....
In the end, i get on the taxi, having no clue at all where he is taking me. I suddenly remember i have only 20 pounds in my wallet and praying it wont cost me more than that to go there and come back.
I managed to find it and collect my parcel, after the guy looked at my passport and the parcel (which said "Gaby Mocanu") and asked me who is Gaby; i said: "It is me!" He points out that the passport says Gabriela.... At that point i was too tired to say anything... He gave me the parcel (i didnt have to pay anything to get it - which is quite unusual.)
Monday, May 4, 2009
Taxi ride in Cairo
This is Nichole's story:
Yesterday I took a taxi home from school. First of all, let me describe the taxi and its driver. The outside of the taxi looked like any other in Egypt, but maybe even older if that is a possibility! I'm sure the car had to be older than the finest 1960's model and would probably fail every vehicle standards test given in any other country. The standard Cairo black and white paint - hand painted of course with brush streaks and paint chips revealing the car's original color. The word "tax" slapped on the side with an uneven script, sometimes even spelled wrong like "tex" or "taxe" . . . . something like that.
Now, the inside . . . like most other taxis in Cairo, the upholstery is completely redone. The seats look nice, plush, and bouncy, until you take a seat and your bottom meets the steel frame of the car with an unpleasant wallop. All springs, no substance to the seats :) I learned to "sit carefully" pretty early on. You are lucky if the taxi doors have inside handles. This one didn't - instead just wire shaped like a handle that needs to be tugged just the right way to get the door open. I wonder if locking the doors even helps . . . . hmmm. In this particular taxi, I noticed that the driver's seat was being held up by a broomstick with its broken off end secured by twine wrapped around the hinge.
The driver was friendly and understood my VERY broken Arabic. "Fee Midan Victoria" . . . "Iowa." Arabi quiss." Shokran." "Afwan."
The decorations in every taxi vary widely - but the most prominent one in the car was the tasseled tissue box in the center of the dashboard. Other taxi decor includes obnoxious stuffed animals, colored lights, wood carvings, and even a disco ball. Most have a money counter that doesn't work - all prices are negotiable.
About half way through the ride, the car stalled in the middle of the road. No ruckus was made, no driver was mad: this is a normal traffic occurrence. To my surprise, my driver dug out a screwdriver and inserted it into the ignition. Soon sparks flew and the car started again. The process was repeated about 3 times until my destination. Amazing . . . I wondered how he started the car with no key for the ignition. I think it might have been the dangling wires near the emergency break. . . . .
Well, I finally reached my destination - about a 5 minute taxi ride turned into a 10 with all the unforetold stops. I gave my driver a 10 pound note (=$2) and he seemed ecstatic. He thanked me about 15 times on my way out the door. . . . . . just another everyday Egypt experience!!!
Yesterday I took a taxi home from school. First of all, let me describe the taxi and its driver. The outside of the taxi looked like any other in Egypt, but maybe even older if that is a possibility! I'm sure the car had to be older than the finest 1960's model and would probably fail every vehicle standards test given in any other country. The standard Cairo black and white paint - hand painted of course with brush streaks and paint chips revealing the car's original color. The word "tax" slapped on the side with an uneven script, sometimes even spelled wrong like "tex" or "taxe" . . . . something like that.
Now, the inside . . . like most other taxis in Cairo, the upholstery is completely redone. The seats look nice, plush, and bouncy, until you take a seat and your bottom meets the steel frame of the car with an unpleasant wallop. All springs, no substance to the seats :) I learned to "sit carefully" pretty early on. You are lucky if the taxi doors have inside handles. This one didn't - instead just wire shaped like a handle that needs to be tugged just the right way to get the door open. I wonder if locking the doors even helps . . . . hmmm. In this particular taxi, I noticed that the driver's seat was being held up by a broomstick with its broken off end secured by twine wrapped around the hinge.
The driver was friendly and understood my VERY broken Arabic. "Fee Midan Victoria" . . . "Iowa." Arabi quiss." Shokran." "Afwan."
The decorations in every taxi vary widely - but the most prominent one in the car was the tasseled tissue box in the center of the dashboard. Other taxi decor includes obnoxious stuffed animals, colored lights, wood carvings, and even a disco ball. Most have a money counter that doesn't work - all prices are negotiable.
About half way through the ride, the car stalled in the middle of the road. No ruckus was made, no driver was mad: this is a normal traffic occurrence. To my surprise, my driver dug out a screwdriver and inserted it into the ignition. Soon sparks flew and the car started again. The process was repeated about 3 times until my destination. Amazing . . . I wondered how he started the car with no key for the ignition. I think it might have been the dangling wires near the emergency break. . . . .
Well, I finally reached my destination - about a 5 minute taxi ride turned into a 10 with all the unforetold stops. I gave my driver a 10 pound note (=$2) and he seemed ecstatic. He thanked me about 15 times on my way out the door. . . . . . just another everyday Egypt experience!!!
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