the House in Frisco

This morning as I was cleaning up around my apartment, I had tuned into Pandora radio on the internet. The first song that played was "Our House" by Crosby Stills and Nash. Hearing the music flood into my cozy little living room, suddenly took me back 5 years ago to a memeory I have never shared with a soul.
It was June of 2004. My cousin Cj and I had flown into San Jose to see Madonna in concert there. We had decided to stay in San Francisco, which was a short drive away, maybe 30 minutes. I had rented a car- a red Chrysler Sabring. We had spent a few days in San Francisco before and after the concert just hanging around. It was not our first trip together there, but it would be our last. We had fun- shopping, eating, seeing the city. Finally it was time to go- Cj was flying back home to Portland and I was flying out to North Carolina to visit my mom and youngest brother, who were living there at the time. So, I drove Cj the short distance back to San Jose's airport for his flight back. And on the way back to San Fran, there I was mid- day alone in one of my favorite cities, driving down the freeway. I was contemplating life, and the recent death of my father that February. I had the radio tuned to a local station and a listener had called in with a request. It was a woman, calling to request the above mentioned song, and dedicated it to her partner. She said her wife and her were home that Sunday morning enjoying a lazy day of working around the house. Maybe there were kids. Definately there were animals- cats &/or dogs. I remember thinking how lovely that sounded- to hear such a cozy little scene between two people who were enjoying their life together, and hoping for that kind of satisfaction one day in my own life.
Five years later, I am living on my own in the tiny Boundary street apartment. So much has shifted since then. Missing my Dad no longer hurts like it did then. And while I am still very much looking forward to one day sharing my own cozy Sunday afternoon's with someone, I am content simply to recall those moments driving along the bay, blue sky, song on the radio and in my heart.

The Time Machine

The sense of smell is a magical time machine.
No other sense can take one back as quickly as smell can. In nano seconds, one is swiftly and magically transported to a time and place somewhere in the past.
For me, there are many smells that conjur up pleasant memories of yester-year. The scent of the baby pink rosebuds that grow in my grandparent's yard takes me back to my childhood and warm spring afternoons of me playing dress-up and make-believe there. Wearing them in my hair and assembling little perfect nosegays, the smell wafting in the breeze as I played. I was absolutely delighted when I discovered last spring, that the very same rose bush, grows in my yard here on Boundary Street. It cheers me to no end that I can go back to that place so much easier now.
If I close my eyes and inhale the smell of bread dough, I am again trasported to my grandparent's home, only this time I am in my grandmother's kitchen. She is making her famous rolls. I hear her bracelets bang together as her hands work the dough, expertly crafting perfect round little buns. On the radio, Johnny Mathis croons about chances as my grandmother hums to herself while I watch from the table.
Today, I was at work, stocking the latest shipments of magazines. One minute I was caught up in the shocking details of Natasha Richardson's tragic and untimely death, the next I am nearly knocked over by a scent that I was sure I would never encounter again. It surprised me and in a flash I was moved to a time just 2 months ago when I dared myself to trek of to Egypt alone and a man I met there.
Mostafa.
I looked around- he couldn't possibly be here now, could he? By now, you have read the entries from my Egypt diary below, and know the effect meeting him had on me- quite unexpectedly.
My nose tracked the scent to the older gentleman at the register to my left, loading his groceries onto the belt. The smell was soft and warm, spicy and in my mind, exotic. Mostafa. I inhaled again, deeply. My head buzzed.I sighed. Longing. While I did not fall in love with him, as amazing as I am sure he is, I did fall in love with his scent. And I miss being around him, talking with him, and laughing as allowed myself to become drunk off his intoxicating scent. On our last night together in Cairo, somewhere in the heart of the city, we sat across from one another at smoky little night club, while some friends cheerfully chattered on, I at long last inquired what the name was of fragrance he was wearing. He answered, but his words were drowned out by the music and the noise in the club, and I in my drunken state, failed to grasp it. Between the beer, his scent, and my saddness at my time in Egypt ending the next day, I was overcome by something that even now, I am at loss to describe in words. It was there that I openly confessed that I found his smell extremely enchanting. We flirted. We danced. It was lovely

Perhaps I was a little in love with myself in those moments. There I was, half way around the world without the company of anyone who really knew me. I was independent, selfish, strong, and in awe of the fact that I was even there. Brave girl was I, to traipse off to Egypt! And now I was flirting and dancing with a man I hardly knew, who's smell and smile were the loveliest things I had not even expected to encounter. Who was this woman? It seems I discovered and developed a little crush on the woman I never knew existed in me.
Now, it was odd to be standing there, in my navy blue apron, clutching a stack of People magazine to my chest, smelling. I didn't want to move, truthfully- I wanted to stay there and drink it in until I couldn't anymore. My head buzzed and I felt warm. A smile took up residence on my face. I must have looked like a grinning fool. I wanted to ask the older gentleman, what the name of his fragarence was called -I was too embarrassed to do so. It was funny also, because just last night I had dreamed Mostafa. In the dream, his back was turned to me, and we were watching each other, each thinking that the other was unaware of that fact. I could hear his thoughts, and feel his emotions, as I am often able to do in real life. I know I left a mark on him that he won't soon forget, even if he is trying to show otherwise.
He doesn't write back anymore, and I knew that would happen. I would be lying if I said it didn't bother me. It does- my ego doesn't like to think that he would choose to forget me. But somethings in life are not meant to be more than they are. And our time together, was everything it was meant to be.
By now, he has undoubtedly, met another strong, lovely, independent woman who is also drowning in his exotic scent. I wouldn't have it any other way- as someone as yummy as I find him to be- he should be appreciated.

Right now, I am having the realization after having been sober off Mostafa's scent for almost 2 months, I find that it still rocks my world.It's mysterious, surprising, and unexpected. I don't know if after today, I will ever come upon it again. I do know that scent will haunt me for the rest of my days, taking me back to those moments where I was learning things about myself and the world, while wrapped up in the trail of his scent. That scent of him, wherever I am in the world, will always take me back to those moments in our lives when the light of our eyes was a refelction of the chemistry sparked.

For All the Lonely People

Since being back, and being in the middle of editing my Egypt trip pics and diary, I have found myself feeling a bit lonely. Or rather aware of my aloneness. No worries- it's cool. I am not terribly down about this feeling. But this song came into my head yesterday and has been on loop.
So this for All the Lonely People. A special shout out to Kelly Turner and her Dad Greg. We love America.

Big Bad-Ass Egyptian Adventure: Egypt Day 3

What day is it? What time is it??? I am not sure I even know what my own name is.
Today there was so much time spent commuting from one place to another. That's the down side to being on a 8 (or is it 9?) day tour- a lot to see in a short time.
Last night, we flew into Aswan. Our flight from Cairo to Aswan was made longer by all of the waiting before we were able to board. We arrived at our hotel just before midnight. I absolutely had to shower upon arrival to my room because my feet were filthy. I wore my Crocs to the pyramids and the Sphinx, leaving my feet dirty from the sand. Not too mention I had also straddled a camel for a short spell. I was down for some shower time. Crawled between the sheets, just after 1am. I had to be packed and ready to go, because we were leaving early and not coming back.
We got started at 5:15am this morning with a wake-up call. I slept like a baby for 3 hours. It was tough to pull myself out of that deep, dreamless sleep. But I did. (What happened to sleeping in on vacation?)
Breakfast was served at 6am. I was up, showered(a quick one to wake up) dressed, and out the door by 6:15am. I wish I could say I enjoyed breakfast- but the truth I have observed thus far, I feel that Egyptians do a great injustice to American breakfast foods. I didn't know it was possible to mess up scrambled eggs...until this morning. The eggs tasted like fat-free cottage cheese mixed with sawdust and then stuffed into old pantyhose, run through a blender.
BAD. Very BAD.

7am and we were boarding the shuttle back to Aswan airport. We were scheduled to fly out to Abu Simbel. Abu Simbel is located on Lake Nasser, on the Nile River, just near the Sudanese border. From Aswan it's a 40 minute flight. On arrival at the small airport, we learned that our flight was being delayed, and we had an hour and half to kill before boarding.
I took the opportunity to shop at the kiosks. I haggled a guy down to $5. for a pair of black socks with hieroglyphics on them. He was kind of a pushover, and I got it down from $10. I probably could have got them for less then that if I really tried, but this was my first purchase. A few minutes later I did let myself get ripped off when I purchased a lapis lazuli scarab fro $5. I didn't care. I will note that I did care about the fact that bottled water, a small bottled water at that, was $3.00. I drew the line there. Well, actually, no I don't think I did. I think my thirst forced me to give in.

The domestic flights to and from the various major cities in Egypt are treated the way we treat a commuter flight say from Portland, Oregon to Seattle, Washington. It's quick and dirty. They serve you a beverage, and as quick as you got on, you are getting off after a very rough landing. Actually there were about 30 seconds there, were the person sitting next to me (I think it was Nancy or Martha...writing this present day and I cannot recall now. So many plane rides!) - we looked at each other thinking " Oh shit, are we gonna die?" The pilots brought the plane down way too fast and we felt the plane start to tip to the right. That was some scary shit- the freakiest thing that happened to me on the trip.

Ramses Temple at Abu Simbel

There are a lot of tourists at the Temple of Abu Simbel, though not many of them look to be American. It seems to be mostly Italian & Chinese groups everywhere. The Italians are the ones wearing tight revealing clothes (the Russians are known for this too) and talking constantly. The constant conversing is also kind of annoying. The Chinese seem to be an easy going lot- big shoppers and suckers for the touristy souvenirs being peddled by the street vendors.
The Temple site itself is located right near the edge of the lake. The temple is not actually located on the original site- the temple had to be moved up, to save it from the flooding by the dam. It's warm here- must be in the 80's. Sunny, quiet, peaceful. This so far, is my favorite thing I have seen. It is more awe-inspiring then the pyramids and the Sphinx because of the above factors. You can hear yourself think here and it's a refreshing change of pace form the bustle of the big city in the north.

Ramses Temple exterior- these hieroglyphics depict Ramses enemies



Ramses Temple, on the right of the entrance

The 2 temples there were built by Ramses II to impress his majesty and power upon the Nubians and enemies to the south of Egypt. One his built in his honor and the other his wife, Nefertati (not to be confused with Nefertiti) and the goddess Hathor (pronounced HAT-HOR, as told to me by Mohammed.) The temples are just breathtaking. The sheer magnitude of walking down the main corridor of the Ramses temple, with all of the giant statues flanking it, is absolutely amazing.

this photo was found using a Google search. Some dude had it on his Flikr account. Tourists are not authorized to take phots inside, which leads me to think he may be French. Apparently the French have a reputation for taking pics where they are not supposed to. But from this picture you get an idea of what it looks like inside.

coming out of Ramses' Temple, view of Lake Nasser on the Nile


Nefertati's Temple is located to the right of Ramses'


The Goddess Hathor, depicted on the exterior of Nefertati's Temple. Hathor is the sister of Isis. She is the Goddess associated with love, fertitlity, sexuality,music and dance, to name a few.


I am really here!!

Imagination is all we have to envision how beautiful and magnificent these temples were when first constructed. It makes me sad and frusterated that we will never really know just how they were really meant to look...
We spent an 1 1/2 hours here. Mohammed was not alloweed inside with us (tour guides are prohibited from entering the temples when they are working- imagine all of the tour guides gathered with their gruops. No one would be able to really appreciate the temples on their own.) and prepped us before going in about some of the depictions on the walls inside. As always, I am impressed and amazed by the constant wealth and knowledge that lives inside that man. It is apparent to me with every passing second, that Mohammed has been living in this land as long as the temples have been standing. He is an old soul with his spirit closely interetwined with Egypt's history, land and heartbeat.
"Yalla!Yalla,Friendly Planet!" This is Mohammed's round-up call. He is feeling poorly as he has come down with a head cold. What a trooper though- he never complains and is always pleasant. But it is obvious that he does not feel well and would benefit from some time spent resting. We left Abu Simbel, flying back to Aswan. We met up with our Aswan tour director Mohammed (the most common name in Egypt... how do they tell each other apart, I often wonder?) and board our cruise ship, the MS Tulip.


the bathroom.The shower is to the right, behind the door. That hose was attached to a "hair dryer". My hair suffered on this trip, as the water was heavily chlorinated and hard. It was limp and gross feeling. The "hair dryer" didn't work(it wouldn't be until my last nigth in Cairo, back at the Ramses where I would have a real, hand-held hair dryer.)... so I went curly for most days.


bed in cabin 206. The one on the right was my sleeping bed, and other was my napping bed.



Cabin 206. The bathroom is right off the front door behind the camera


view from my cabin window

Views of the Nile from my window. The boats are called "felluccas".








Shortly after arrival in my room, maybe 15 minutes or so after, I went into the bathroom and switched on the light. And there to greet me was a small little cockroach crawling across the floor. Awesome. I did not freak out.( And I definitely did not tell any of my tour mates until our last day in Cairo- no sense in freaking any of them out.) I managed to scoop him up in a glass and send him on a long watery trip to visit the Porcelain God. So long, Roachie!
Lunch was served at 1pm and it was crappy. The food on this ship is seriously lacking in the love department. It has to be difficult to cook for so many nationalities, make it affordable, and please the guests. I wonder if they were serving Authentic Egyptian cuisine, if I would be able to taste the love in the food.
After lunch, I was eager to return to Cabin 206, and decided to nap the afternoon away.

Big Bad-Ass Adventure: Egypt Day 2

Bridge over the Nile in Cairo

What day is it? All sense of time of timing has left me. Perfect! Because I am on vacation!
After breakfast in the Terrace Cafe, I met my group downstairs. Mostafa guided us onto our bus. It was there that we met our other guide, Mohammed. Mohammed is an Egyptologist. He looks to be in his 40's. He is just as warm and welcoming as Mostafa, with a really pleasant sense of humor. It feels like he enjoys working with Americans. Mohammed was to take us to our first excursion of the day- to the Egyptian Museum of Antiquities. Pictures are not permitted inside, and so I left my camera on the bus. There were lots of tourists filling the museum. We followed Mohammed to various places in the museum and listen to him tell us about the history of Ancient Egypt. It is absolutely impossible to see everything in the museum in one visit. In fact, Mohammed explained that in order to see every single item there, it would take 8 hours a day for 4 years. And there is more stuff in the basement in storage. They will be building a new, ginormous Museum in the next couple of years, just house and exhibit all of the stored items. I wonder if I will ever make it back to see the new museum...It was very overwhelming here, because there were a lot of things I was seeing up close and in person outside of a book. I stood in front of the famed gold funeral mask of Tutankhamun in wonder and awe. It is beautiful and unbelievable to behold. To being seeing there was one of the profound experiences for me. All of us declined to see the mummies in a separate room. It was an extra $18.00 and as Mohammed reminded us," they are just dead." That I could personally do without. My psychic senses had yet to pick up anything tangible, but I did not want to provoke them with viewing the mummies.
After the museum, Mostafa took us to a hotel across the street, "The Nile Hotel" for lunch in the outdoor cafe. I sat with Sam and Martha and we exchanged pleasantries and introductory information over chicken shwarma sandwiches. The whole time I could feel Mostafa's energy and sometimes his eyes, directed partly in my direction. I was trying to be oblivious and cool. Mostly because I was still unsure about the attraction I was feeling and didn't want to be obvious to my tour mates or him. Crap! Wasn't I on vacation? This was a completely unexpected development.
It was a short lunch and then we were back on the bus on the way to Giza to see the pyramids and the sphinx. My camera battery was showing signs of slow down. Actually it was dying a quick death. I had failed to charge it up the night before. This would prove to be a trend over the week. So the few pictures below are the only ones shot by me. A few of my tour mates have very generously offered me use of some of their pics or took pics of me to send me later.
While I am on the subject of tour mates, let me tell you about our group. There are 14 of us total. Mostly from the East Coast, with the exceptions of me and Alan from Wisconsin. I was the only left coaster, and the only one to be making my maiden voyage outside the US. There is Sam and Martha from Texas, a retired couple with a very lovely life story about their marriage and a large family they often see and scuba dive with. Carol and Shauna from Connecticut. Carol is a dietitian and is very well traveled. She was accompanied by her daughter Shauna, who is a few years younger than me. Joan (Florida) and Nancy (South Carolina), retired southern ladies who are old collage friends, leaving their S.O.'s behind to see Egypt. Mark and GG, doctors from Virgina who came with their neighbors, Mark and Betsy. And finally Kevin and Kami, the fun 20 somethings I would connect better with later on. It felt like a good group, small and pleasant. Mostafa commented that our group is half the size it usually is. We would all be thankful for this fact as our sightseeing trips went on.


Entrance to the pyramid site


Standing in front of the second pyramid, and looking up. I went inside this pyramid. It's hot, narrow and tight and not terribly inpressive. No pics allowed inside either. The climb into and out, allowed me to discover muscles in my thighs I never new existed.




I was really frustrated with my camera battery. I was upset I was not going to be able to capture this experience photographically the way I wanted.
Shortly after this picture was taken, I headed back to the bus with Alan and Mostafa. We didn't board right away, instead the three of us stood in front of the bus, chatting as we waited for the others to join us. I took the opportunity to try and get a read on Mostafa and it was fascinating and puzzling. I learned abot places he has been outside of Egypt, a bit about his political views, and his take on America and Americans. The more I hung aorund him, the more I liked him. Damn it- I could feel the attraction growing. It wasn't a mindblowing attraction like I have felt with others in my life- it was mild and mellow, but definately present. And it made me think about the different tones of personal chemistry. Hmmmm....
Slowly the tour memebers began to trickle back to the bus. We were headed over to a place up the way for our camel ride. Initially, I was not going to do this. But then I decieded, what the hell? I may never get this chance again- might as well live it to the fullest that I want to. So a little nervously, I mounted the camel ( Ooohh that's a great title for something - mounting the camel...Book title? Poem? Kama sutra position? All of the above? Hmmm..)








Camels are cantankerous. I was picking up on the vibes of the camels and they were not happy. I could here them thinking " Fuck. This is my life- parading tourists around on my back, back and forth between the pyramids with my keepers, little boys under the age of 12, hitting me with sticks telling me to go faster. Fuck you. I don't want to. I'll go as fucking fast as I want to!"
I focused on not falling off, and sending a lot of love and appreciation to my camel. The ride itself was very cool. Riding in the desert on a camel to a pyramid. The scenery was beautiful, pleasant temperature and blue sky. It was a great bonding expereince for those of us who did it.

me and Martha and our camel friends
Back on the bus again, this time our destination was the Sphinx. We had maybe a 30 minutes here, because the site was closing at 5pm. Truthfully, the sphinx is so much smaller than you think it's going to be. I was only able to take one picture on my phone. My camera was dead by now, and my phone died immediately after I took this picture. (It was nice not having to charge my phone, because I wasn't using it. No phone calls or texts was such a nice thing for me!)

I tried to be impressed, but between my dipping energy, the crowd of tourists, the street vendors hassling, and my camera being dead, I was done. I wanted to go back to my room and re-group. Instead we left the Sphinx, and headed to a jewlery store where they made quality gold and silver heiroglyphic necklaces. A lot of the guides have established realtionships with reputable dealers, that allows them to recieve a commishion for bringing in their groups, if they buy the product. I think only one person bought something. The rest of us were not interested. There was slightly more interest in the Papyrus shop we went to next. Mostly, everyone was ready for dinner. It was probably close to 7 by the time we got to the restaurant. Dinner was ok, kind of bland. But it was a good opportunity for some of us talk and get to know one another. Once dinner was finished, we were headed to the airport for our short flight to Aswan.
Mostafa was staying in Cairo, and Mohammed would be taking us onward to Aswan and our cruise through to Luxor. I was a little disappointed to learn this, as I was still wanting a chance to nonchalantly get to know him better. Just as well, I suppose.
Our flight to Aswan was indeed short, the landing a bit rough, and the ride to the hotel a bit longer than I am sure we all would have liked. It was just before midnight when we arrived at the Basma Hotel. It has been a very long day - put a fork in me I am very well done.

Big Bad-Ass Egyptian Adventure: Egypt Day 1

Egypt


Cairo International Airport

Our plane touched down at Cairo International Airport around 12pm. I am anxious. I can't see much out of the window across the aisle, but I what I do see is brown.
Stepping off the plane and down the silver steps, I make my way towards the shuttle that sits waiting. Is the one I am supposed to get on? No one has given me instruction and my very tired brain is still on meltdown. I get on, and hold on. Destination unknown.
The air is warm, and the sounds of the plane are lingering in the air. The shuttle snakes around the the airport gate. I head inside knowing only that I need to look for the words "Friendly Planet". Almost as soon as I remember what words I am looking for, I see them. Our tour director stands holding his clipboard high. There is frantic activity as many of the other passengers who arrived are locating their own tour company's, with the natives just trying to get through the sea of tourists through customs and home to their families.
Our tour director, I first guess to be at least 5 years older than me- not because he looks it, but because he is so to tall. Maybe he is 6 feet tall? I am not sure, being 5' 1'' everyone is taller than me. Still I am grateful for his strong stature because immediately I am comforted and made to feel safe. This guy is taking care of me, I think. He stands tall with broad shoulders, warm, smart, easy brown eyes behind trendy frames, and a quick welcoming smile quickly work their magic on my nerves. Our eyes meet and I say something about how I belong in this group and what my name is. I don't really remember because I am so tired and my sensations are on overload. I feel stupid, clumsy, and awkward. Not too mention I know I look disheveled and very unsexy. He smiles and puts his arm on my back to guide me to the other members of the group assembling. "My name is Mostafa. Welcome to Egypt." Welcome indeed, I thought to myself. I was feeling a spark; an attraction. Whoa, whoa, whoa hold up Paula!!!! You did not come on this vacation, halfway around the world, to be distracted by the opposite sex. You came here for you. To sort things out in your head and be independent of emotional connections. Besides, you are probably imagining things that are not there. Still, I could not escape the feeling that perhaps my tour director might possibly also be feeling the spark. His professionalism was keeping it hidden, and whatever was there was being sensed on my part without evidence.



First stamp! I am officially in Egypt, Baby!

Mostafa gathers us all in group and explains the visa and customs process. I always get a little paranoid when I have to do anything official. Though I have absolutely no reason to be worried- it's not like I am smuggling pot into the country. I am just in another country for the first time, as a curious American tourist. Plus, given my history, I have incredible luck at being the one to get in trouble for doing something that began from innocent intentions (remember my arrest in 2000? Yeah... case in point...).
Once out of customs, smoothly I might add, our group is gathering at the baggage claim. Sam and Martha from Texas have introduced themselves at this point, and I like them both immensely instantly. Southern hospitality in Egypt.
As we wait for the bags, I am eager to set my eyes on my own bag. I won't be able to relax until I know it's here with me. Please, please, please, Dear Sweet Luggage be here! I silently pray, beg and plead. I waited for about 5 minutes, and then there it was- my little red suitcase with it's pink and white polka dot ribbon. Big sigh of relief. "Ok", I thought, " I am ready to see Egypt!"
Mostafa leads us through the airport to our bus. I am absolutely giddy inside because I know I am minutes away from a bed. Sleep. I want it bad.
Exiting the airport, we drive onwards towards Cairo. Mostafa begins speaking on the microphone to the small group of fourteen of us.


The back of Mostafa's head and our driver. I want to say his name was Mohammed...we had so many drivers.

Admittedly, I don't hear much of what he is saying, or paying much attention to the faces in my group due to my sleep-deprived state. I do hear Mostafa's very heartfelt "Thank you" as he explains how grateful he is for himself and behalf of his countrymen, that we are here and ready to experience Egypt. Tourism in Egypt has felt the sting of the global economic crisis. I am so glad I came, I think. In times like these, it feels good to know that my hard-earned money goes to people who truly appreciate it. This is how we help each other.


This is a cropped section of a mural that is tiled on the highway from the airport.

Taking out my camera, I begin to snap pictures as we drive along. I am overwhelmed and not quite sure what to capture. How do I scoop up every single thing my eyes are seeing so that later, when I am home and in a more well-rested state than I am at present, remember? I snap away the 45 minutes to the hotel. Or maybe it was an hour? Who knows. Time became inceasingly unimportant to me. That trend would continue throughout my journey.


Street in one of the poorer parts of Cairo


beautiful, smoggy Cairo


Street Store on the corner across the street from the Ramses Hilton



this is the street the hilton entrance is on. The driveway is to the left.


The Ramses Hilton. I got this photo online, because for some reason I didn't take a picture of it myself.

Arriving at the Rames Hilton, I am overjoyed inside. "GIVE ME THE KEY" is what is going through my mind as Mostafa gives instruction for checking in, meeting up for breakfast tomorrow, and the impending agenda. I was the last one to get my key from Mostafa, and I stood there, trying not to feel awkward, desperately wanting the key, and finding myself wanting to flirt all at the same time. Words were tumbling out of my mouth and I could not tell you even now, what I was saying. I know that I was laughing at what I was saying. Making jokes to deflect from the attraction I was feeling. He was laughing too, and made some offer of meeting up for coffee together sometime. Holy crap I thought. There it is. Yep. Ok. Got to go. I am scared of feeling attracted to him and it's only my first day. I wanted to say yes and agree on a time, but more than that- I wanted to sleep and get my bearings together.
I said goodbye and hurried up to my room and into the safety of the room that awaited me on the 8th floor.
Once in my room, I literally dropped everything. Looked around and began peeling off my clothes. Ugh. I stunk. My deodorant didn't survive the trip. Into the shower to wash off the smell of travel. I would like to take a moment here to comment on just how important showers are for me. No matter how bad I am feeling in life, I always come out a better Paula after a shower. They are sacred to me. And even in relationships, I still prefer to waste water and shower solo.
Anyhoo, after the shower, I flung myself on the bed, still wrapped in a towel. My hair was snuggly wrapped up in a towel as well. And as I drifted off into the first of many naps on this journey, I was overcome with a feeling of deep relaxation.


Egyptian money. Pretty, dirty money

Several hours later, I dress and head off in search of food. I pick the Terrace cafe because it's the only name I can remember. I want to eat cheap and light this evening. It's about 7pm by this time, and I am still in a fog. Jet lag is harsh. It's buffet in the restaurant and after sitting for a few minutes with a bottle of water, gathering my thoughts and mapping my steps in my fog, I head towards the food.
Nothing struck me as fabulous. I took a a picture of my food. It was alright. Salad, falafel, veggies, potatoes... Maybe some chicken. All of it was really forgettable. I ate slowly. Halfway through my meal, I was ready to be done. I remembered that I wanted to find a computer to write home. There was one thing that was truly unforgettable about my first meal in Cairo- the bill.


Here is the view from the restaurant window. I will never forget sitting there eating dinner, and feeling strangely comforted by the smooth vocal stylings of Lionel Richie, crooning away about how he was "Stuck on You". Never.


$40.00 dinner. This is what happens when you are jet-lagged, hungry, and alone.


$40.00 later, I was on my way to the Business Center where Ahmed helped me get set up to connect with my peeps. Most of you all know, from the email I sent that night, much of what I have detailed in this entry. And Athena was right- emailing home is a great souvenir for myself. It takes me back to where I was and what I was feeling writing home for the first time away.
I headed back to my room, once the allotted and expensive 30 minutes were up. It was around 9pm. And I was ready for bed again. Had to be up early for breakfast and our first day of sightseeing in Cairo.


Oh yeah baby. I have been waiting all day for this. Sweet Dreams.

Paula's Big Bad-Ass Adventure: NYC Day 3

January 20, 2009 8:00am

NYC, Portland Square Hotel, room # 622
Today is Obama's inauguration day. I have finally figured out how to work the remote to my tv and have it on.
Now before I get into the details of my international departure, let me take a few minutes to reflect on this historic day...
Many of us, in the years to come, will remember where we were when President Barack Obama was sworn in. I found myself sandwiched in yet another shuttle, en route to JFK. I was seated in the middle, directly behind our Russian driver. So lucky for me, the radio was closest to me. Unlucky, was the fact that I was surrounded by Spanish & English speaking people, with a driver who took the keys out of the ignition every time we stopped to pick up passengers. True to mercury retrograde's challenges with communication, the broadcast of the swearing in and his inaugural speech was continually interrupted. (Don't worry I you-tubed it when I got home). I feel annoyed at having missed seeing it the way I would have liked. But what I did hear of President Obama's moved me. It invoked a sense of pride, hope, and amplified optimism for the future of my homeland. I feel proud to be heading overseas, to represent my country as an American, with great respect for where I come from and where I am headed. Onwards and upwards!
Currently I am sitting at a table in the Terminal 4 food court. It's 1pm and my flight doesn[t begin check-in for another 90 minutes. This terminal is recently built or remodeled. Shiny and new. Lots of international passengers and airline crew walking around and eating. This terminal houses not just Egyptair, but flights connecting to India, Jamaica, Ireland, Qatar, and Brazil- just to name a few. I am acutely aware that I am at a crosdsroads in life.
At 6:00pm-ish we begin to board our airbus to Egypt. The panic is beginning to set in. OH.MY.GOD.WHAT. THE.FUCK.AM. I. DOING????!!! My inner monologue is peppered with phrases like that, repeated over and over. Is my luggage going to be on the plane? Are we going to crash into a body of water? I am going to the African continent??!!! Oh crap. Here we go..
The plane is large and feels almost like a skinny theatre. All around me, the passengers are a mix of Egyptians and foreigners destined for Cairo. I find myself seated in the middle of the plane on an aisle, on the right side of the plane.To my left, was an Egyptian man who looked to be around my age. We had two empty seats between us. Sweet! Extra room!
As the plane is filling up and passengers are getting settled, I am having what is surely only my 3rd panic attack ever. I discreetly started freaking out about the fact that I was really doing it- I was finally daring to leave all that is known and familiar to me to go and experience a land I had only ever read about. All by myself. I didn't know a soul. I knew that on the plane, my tour mates were seated as well- but none of us had met yet. I felt isolated and small- a little girl in a big world. Shauna and I had been text messaging up to this point and I was really grateful for her encouraging words as she reminded me that I was going to be OK, have fun and be glad to be doing this long-dreamed of thing. I was holding back the tears at this point. I didn't want people around me to see how scared I really was. So I sat, trying to be calm. Around this time, the radio on the plane played the only Avril Lavigne song I like, "Keep Holding On". It was as if Shauna was right there holding my hand telling me it was all OK and that I wasn't alone. OK, I thought- I am going to be OK. I am going to be a big girl now and go and see the world.The plane began to taxi down the run way and as we were taking off the snow covered ground at JFK, I said a little prayer of thanks and asked to brought back home safe.
Soon after, we were gaining altitude and on our way up to 40,000 feet above the earth. The friendly and designer- scented flight attendants began to serve dinner. I had requested the Gluten Free meal and for my first in-flight meal, it was delicious. I was grateful for the distraction of discovering all of the little offerings. It reminded my a lot of my beloved Laptop Lunch box. On my little tray was a grilled chicken breast with roasted veggies, a rice cake, salad, and cheesecake with passion fruit glaze that was absolute heaven!
Thirty minutes later, the dishes were cleared and I was forced to become more aware of the obnoxious lady across the aisle over to my right. Her husband had taken the free seats behind me, so she had 2 all to herself. She looked to be in the agerange of a retired lady and looked to enjoy her life. If not for her demeanor and my feelings of anxiousness, I might have found her amusing. Instead, I was annoyed by her over excitement and curiosity. She was like a child, or rather a 16 year old girl who knew she was voted the most popular girl in school. She had already seemed to have established close friendships with members of her touring company. They would stop by just to say "Hi" throughout the duration of our 9 hour flight. Her voice was annoying- high pitched, giggly, with questions rolling easily off her tongue by the second. It was not helping me to be calm. In fact, I found myself fantasizing about violent scenarios that involved the flotation device under my seat. I silently forgave her perceived obnoxiousness when she later offered me a blanket, not realizing I already had one. I thanked her and smiled. Deep down I was thankful for the motherly kindness she showed me on that flight of incredible vulnerability.
As the hours passed, my nerves calmed but the questions about what would happen once I got off the plane, stayed. Thank god for in-flight movies!!! They played 3 back to back- " Baby Mama", " Get Smart", and "Mama Mia". I did not sleep a wink during the flight. I watched all 3 movies. I tried to doze, but planes are not made for sleeping.
About an hour before we landed, I got up to wash my face, brush my teeth and put on some mascara. I felt a little better, but oh I was looking forward to a hot shower and a nap in real bed.