Part 1- January 28th, 2011

The drive home from church on Friday the 28th of January. The streets are lined with blue and green police trucks, used to haul people off.

Watching The Batchelor on the left and Al Jazeera on the right. Don't ask me why my parents have two TVs side by side. I suppose one is for AFN (Armed Forces Network) and the other is for local channels. I alternated between wanting any form of distraction and being unable to tear myself away from the news.

The 26th of July Bridge. I was mistaken in my earlier post, this is not the 6th of October Bridge. The Marriott is in the background. One of the reasons my dad wanted us to stay away from bridges was because demonstrators were trying to push police vehicles over the bridges. I'll never forget the images I saw on the news of police as they launched tear gas grenades from the Qasr el Nil Bridge over to the protesters on the 6th of October Bridge on this same night.

Washing tear gas out of their faces.

Pausing to pray.

The police before they were driven off the streets.

Many people were wearing face masks to avoid inhaling the tear gas.

This guy was really proud of his spot of blood. ;)

I wasn't 100% comfortable filming this, but these guys grabbed me and asked me to film. Put it on YouTube, they said.


My first and hopefully last experience with a Molotov cocktail.

A New Egypt

When we got home and sorted through our mail, I was a little surprised to see that the cover of The Economist was about the Egyptian Uprising.

"Whoa. I guess they heard about that over here," I thought.

I suppose it's a case of not being able to see the forest through the trees. Now that I'm out of Cairo it's beginning to dawn on me how insane it is that we happened to be in Egypt for the start of the revolution. I'm not sure what to blame for my warped perspective? Maybe the media blackout during those days. Maybe my dad's incredibly frustrating tendency to downplay everything, including the most major of crises. Maybe my own naive desire to believe that I hadn't brought my family into such an unpredictable situation. We could and would still go swimming despite the jets overhead and we could and would still go buy Kinder Eggs at the grocery store despite the empty shelves. The pyramids are closed, you say? I didn't want to see those lousy old rocks anyways. I'd much rather watch Norbit on AFN with my brother. Turn up the volume so I can't hear the gunfire.

Making happy memories with Baba, Mama De and Chris, just ignore the revolution around the corner.

Maybe in time, I'll regret not going farther into Tahrir Square to stand shoulder to shoulder with the Egyptian people. Under normal circumstances the hustle and bustle of a typical Cairo crowd is enough to give me a panic attack. I think the atmosphere in Tahrir would have made my heart stop. For now, I'm just glad that we're safe and that my dad is safe as he remains in Cairo (though extremely overworked). Even better, we're safe and I still get to tell Booker and Ike when they're older* that they were in Egypt to witness history in the making. Win, win. Plus Mubarak finally stepped down... major WIN.

*At the time we tried to explain to Booker what was going on...

We have to get a plane tomorrow and go to another country.

But why?

Because the Egyptian people are angry and things are just a little bit unsafe.

But why?

Because they don't like their president and they want a change now.

Oh.

On the drive home from the Tucson airport at 10 o'clock at night after 26 hours of travel...

Hey mom, in Tucson things are safe. We like our president.

That's right, bud.

I guess he's a little more perceptive than I give him credit for.

When all this started, I was a few kilometers from Tahrir Square. If it weren't for all the high rise apartment buildings in the way, I could have watched the crowd from the roof instead of on Al Jazeera. Yesterday when they announced Mubarak was resigning, I was mopping the floors of my quiet little house on Jute Way. Amazing. I feel very blessed.

I'll leave you with a couple of videos I liked and the promise that sometime soon I'll be dumping my images and videos from those days in Cairo onto the blog, although they're pretty tame compared to what you've seen on the news.

Is it just me or does Ayman sound like he's tearing up a little bit?

Fergus

I feel like the pieces of my world are slowly coming back together. Hosni Mubarak resigned as Egypt's president. Our luggage was returned. Fergus has been found!!! Plus I'm almost caught up on laundry.

I'm shocked. It feels like nothing short of a miracle, an answer to Booker's prayers. I thought surely someone was keeping him or he had run into a pack of coyotes. We've been checking the shelters every other day (even checking their DOA files), checking Craigslist obsessively and calling around to local vets. We put up countless fliers in the neighborhood he went missing. Nothing. Since he was so well labelled, I thought surely someone must have decided to keep him or resell him. Eight days is a long time to go without being seen.

Nope, he was just running wild this whole time. Most likely hanging around the wash at River and La Cholla. He showed up last night at a ranch property near the area he was lost. The lady who found him couldn't get near him until today and called us as soon as she saw his tags. When we pulled up, he seemed to recognize our car. He hopped right in and collapsed into Booker's lap.

He's much worse for the wear. Full of prickers, some scrapes and scratches and thin as can be. We'll try and take him to the vet tomorrow to get him checked out. I think he just needs some TLC and several weeks worth of fatty meals.

Here he is the day before we left for Egypt.

Here he is today- much skinnier but back at home!

Thank you to everyone who helped find him. We are truly blessed with awesome friends and family who called around, filed reports, posted fliers and drove around the neighborhood searching while we were in Istanbul. We can't thank you enough.

The level of distress this has caused me is quite surprising. I had no idea I loved that dog so much. Booker and Ike are overjoyed that he is back. And Clark can't wait for him to put on some weight so they can get back to running again. Sigh. What relief.

Home Sweet Home

We're home! And while we had the adventure of a LIFETIME, I need to vent a little bit before I get started on blogging all the happy, magical Istanbul adventures. I'm on the verge of an emotional breakdown and yes, I'm looking for your sympathy. With the run of luck we've had lately, I was half expecting our house to be broken into when we got home. Here's a list of my grievances.

- Cairo. We'll get to that later. But it goes without saying, that our vacation to Cairo wasn't what we expected.

- Lost stroller. I couldn't bring my little Joovy sit and stand double stroller on the evacuation flight and I had to leave it behind in Cairo. It was my favorite stroller. I hope someone gets some use out of it, perhaps someone in the Cairo branch? It's no jogging stroller, which is what the streets of Cairo really require, but it's a good little stroller. I hope it finds a good home.

- Blown out hairdryer. Don't try and use your hairdryer in Istanbul, it will spark and die and nearly cause a fire.

- Shattered iPhone screen. Ike dropped Clark's phone on a cobblestone street outside of Topkapi Palace. It shattered the screen.

- Cold Weather. Istanbul is cold, Cairo is not. I brought one jacket with me on this trip (it was white, no longer so), two pairs of socks and definitely not enough underwear to not be doing laundry.

- Sleeping in the same room as your kids for a week. Sucks.

- Ear infections. I can't confirm this, but I'm pretty sure both the boys had ear infections. Thankfully, I was able to stop at a pharmacy near our hotel and get some antibiotics without a prescription. Unfortunately, I had a nasty cold/cough all week and was too scared to try and self diagnose with Turkish medicines.

- Lost luggage. Three of our four bags didn't make it back to the states. I know bags almost always make it eventually, but I still hate thinking about our laptops and my camera just floating around somewhere. They still haven't located them. Istanbul? Paris? Atlanta? Hopefully they make it back to Tucson... and soon. I need my cell phone charger.

- Fergus. This one is really killing me. Our dog Fergus is missing. We're doing everything we can, but at this point we need your prayers. Please pray that he makes it back to us. That dog is a part of our family and I'm not ready to grieve him yet.

Qasr al-Nil Bridge

Booker and Ike posing with the lions at the Qasr al-Nil Bridge on January 25, 2011.

Days later, you can see the same lions in the background.

People queuing to get into Tahrir square which is now barricaded off and has security check points.

Timeline from Cairo

Here's a timeline of events from the last week starting on Thursday, January 27th and leading up to Tuesday, February 1st. I'm afraid if I didn't write it down soon, I'd start to forget the details. When I find the time, I'll upload photos and videos. I'm sorry, dad. So so sorry... for being disobedient and foolish and cavalier but mostly for bringing Chris with me.

Thursday: Government blocks Facebook. I realize just how deep my addiction to Facebook runs. Bad news.

Friday: We wake up and find that the internet and cell services are blocked as well. We get ready and head down to Maadi for church. Church is cut from three to two hours in anticipation of the protests that are supposed to start after noon prayer. The drive home from Maadi to Zamalek is surreal. The streets are empty except for a huge police presence. Tons of blue trucks used to round up and haul off demonstrators are out on the streets. We get home and say goodbye to my dad who heads off to the embassy. We don't see him again until the next day. Before he leaves, he tells us to stay in Zamalek, stay away from any bridges, stay away from the police, stay away from any crowds, basically just stay away. Naturally, Chris and I head out and happen upon a group of demonstrators near the Sixth of October Bridge. We wanted to get shawarma and juice but everything is closed. We hang out for about half an hour. Several people mistake me for a journalist and try to tell me their stories. Others ask me to come and take pictures of the blood on their shirts, etc. Everyone begs me to put the images on the internet and I promise to try. Chris and I hang out during prayer but decide to leave shortly after someone throws two molotov cocktails. Back at home, we turn on Al Jazeera News and watch what is unfolding just 1 km from the house. Because we have no internet and very limited phone calls from my dad at the embassy, the news is our only source of information. I'm glued to the TV for the next 5 days. Much later that night, we learn that the police have been driven off the streets. I try to get some sleep but keep waking up every time I hear gun shots and men shouting from just a few streets away. After several panicked calls to my dad, he assures me that we are safe in Zamalek and if anything should happen to get everyone into the safe haven (bomb proof room), lock the doors and call the embassy. This should reassure me but it only makes me more anxious. I locate several fire extinguishers and try once more to get some sleep.

Friday night was a scary one for me, but it was nothing compared to what the staff at the embassy were experiencing. I hesitate to put this information on the internet, but if you're interested in knowing what kind of damage the embassy sustained I wouldn't mind to sharing it privately. The estimated monetary amount is staggering. Once the police (who are usually positioned outside the embassy perimeter) abandoned their posts, the protesters were able to do some real damage. The embassy, by the way, is located just outside Tahrir square, the epicenter of the protests.

Saturday: We wake up and notice that the uniformed policemen (usually 3-4) who sit outside the house gate are gone. Thankfully, the embassy guard is still in the guard house. We walk around Zamalek and notice just one shop is burned and looted- a travel agency. Several other shops have placed newspapers over their glass windows, including the cupcake shop... because we all know how much looters love their cupcakes. We stop at the Alpha Market which is unusually crowded to stock up on some basics. We spend the rest of the day glued to the news. With my very limited access to communication, I call my friends the Glausers to give them a rundown of the situation. Clark has already boarded his flights to Cairo and I can't get in touch with him. We watch the news. all. day. long.

At this point, the embassy has gone to "authorized departure" which basically means voluntary evacuation. If you want to leave the country, they will help you. My dad comes home briefly to talk with my mom and brother about what they would like to do. Hoping that things will improve, they opt to stay and wait it out. I decide to stay too as long as my mom and brother are around. Dad returns to the embassy.

Saturday night, we are without the usual policemen who guard the house. I notice a large group of men assembling outside the gate. They are carrying large pipes, sticks and rifles. They are blocking off the road and frantically yelling when cars or motorcycles approach. We turn off all the lights inside and outside the house. The embassy guard moves outside of his guard house and into the driveway where he can better see this group of men. I call my dad but he is impossible to reach. I'm panicking. I'm just about to wake everyone up and move them into the safe haven, when a news story runs about how the young men of each neighborhood are banding together to form neighborhood watches. In the absence of the police, they are organizing themselves to protect their homes and shops from the looters. The men with sticks and guns are on our side! I finally get in touch with my dad. Around midnight, a military truck shows up with several army guys and parks in front of the gate. Relief. I sleep a little easier despite the gunfire.

Sunday: We walk around Zamalek and things are very quiet during the day. Most everything is closed. We stop by the Alpha Market to get some groceries but the lines are too long to stay and buy anything. People are frantically stocking up on water and groceries. Clark is supposed to arrive but I don't know what time or if the plane even took off. I have no internet to check. I can't go out to the airport because I'm basically under house arrest. Around 2 p.m. Clark calls from someone's cell phone at the airport (the pay phones aren't working). I tell him to catch a cab and to hurry- he has just two hours before the 4 p.m. curfew kicks in (the next day, the curfew moves to 3 p.m.). His cab pulls up and the driver wants almost double what the fare would be under normal circumstances. He also notices a water bottle that I'm holding and he wants that too. Times are hard and I wish I could give him a hundred water bottles. At this point, the banks are closed (thankfully I withdrew lots of cash the day before in anticipation), gas stations are running out of fuel and grocery stores are cleaned out. We gladly welcome Clark into our little circle of house arrest.

Monday: We take the boys swimming in the morning but come inside soon after because Booker is frightened by the military jets that are flying overhead. Clark wonders out loud if the jets mean that Mubarak is flexing his muscles. Later a news story confirms that he is right. We see jets and helicopters flying overhead all day long. At this point, the embassy is moving towards mandatory departure which means that my mom and my brother no longer have a choice- they have to leave. My dad starts working on their departure plans. I call Delta and the soonest I can leave on a commercial flight would be Friday. I decide we're better off on an evacuation flight with my mom and brother. My dad starts to make the arrangements.

During Ike's nap and Booker's quiet time, Clark, Chris and I head out for a walk. I figure this might be my last chance to buy some souvenirs and Clark's one and only chance to see some of Cairo. Everything in Zamalek is closed. We head over to the Marriott hotel where most of the shops there are closed too. I manage to buy some Egyptian flags. We're feeling brave and decide to cross the bridge from Zamalek over to the corniche. On the bridge we run into a familiar face- one of the plain clothes policemen who normally guards the house. We try to explain to him that we're just going for a walk and we'll return to the house soon, but he refuses to leave us and joins us on our walk. We take the same exact route as we did a few days earlier on Police Day. This time the road is closed and blocked off by tanks. Some uniformed police have been redeployed to the streets and we see some protesters harassing one and quicken our pace. I try and take pictures of the tanks but the military guys tell me not to. I try to take photos of burned out police cars but the military guys tell me not to, etc. Clark and Chris are feeling anxious, and frankly so am I. I manage to take a few photos, but I start to worry that my camera might get confiscated. We cross back over to the Sixth of October Bridge where we have a great view of the burned out NDP headquarters. The building is still smoldering. I look across the skyline and notice several buildings on fire. I look over in the direction of Tahrir square and it's a sea of people. I long to go inside the Egyptian Museum. We head back home in the opposite direction.

Tuesday: Our bags are packed even though we're not sure we have a spot on a flight. At 8 a.m. my dad arrives and it's go time. My mom and Chris say goodbye to their house and their things. Chris never got to say goodbye to his friends. The staff haven't been able to leave their various neighborhoods to make it into the house and I long to see Su-su just one more time before I go. We load up and head out to the airport. It's a mass exodus on the roads to the airport, cars are piled with suitcases on top. The traffic jam is bad but eventually we make it. At a special terminal at the airport we're immediately met by a Consular Officer from the embassy who keeps asking if we're okay and I thought I was, but then I start to cry right there on the curb.

I say goodbye to my dad's driver and his bodyguard and I wish I could hug them or at the very least, I wish I had the words to say thank you or I'm sorry or please take care of my dad, but all I can do is blubber. The evacuation flights are headed to 5 places- Nicosia, Athens, Milan, Istanbul or Frankfurt. In the car, we took bets on where we'd be going and I win! Istanbul was my first choice. We say goodbye to my dad and hang out in the terminal for about 30 minutes. The bathroom attendant in the terminal wants 50 pounds ($9) to use the bathroom, I give him a one pound coin and end up using the bathroom 5 or 6 times while we wait- I'm both pregnant and nervous. We board a Tailwind Airlines plane with about 150 other Americans. My mom and Chris are some of the last "official Americans" to go, most everyone else is a private American like me and Clark. We sit on the tarmac for about two hours before the flights attendants start asking us row by row to exit the plane to go identify our luggage on the tarmac. This isn't your typical flight and none of the luggage is tagged. Apparently there was some mix up with the luggage. Eventually it gets sorted out and after three hours on the tarmac we take off. There is a round of applause when we take off and again when we land. In Istanbul, we are greeted by the U.S. Consulate employees who give us water, crackers and paperwork. Clark is interviewed by a Turkish newspaper and they take several pictures of the boys playing with the Turkish customs officials. We head off to a fancy hotel that is free for my mom and Chris, not so much for me and Clark ;)

Sleep, sleep, sleep.

Safe Haven

I'm not sure where to start, except to say that we are safe and sound and out of Cairo. The evacuation plane we ended up on was headed to Istanbul so that's where we are for the moment. Part of me is excited about blogging about being in Egypt to witness history and part of me is a little afraid to have to relive it all. For now, I'm going to put a little distance between me and Cairo, literally and figuratively. Istanbul, here we come!

In the meantime, here's a shot of the protesters pausing their demonstrations to pray. They are facing a row of riot police (seen in the distance on the ramp to the Sixth of October Bridge which leads to Tahrir Square), this was taken on Friday before the police were driven off the streets. Shortly after prayer was over, someone threw two molotov cocktails so that's when my brother and I decided it was time to head back home. I have a feeling that my blogs over the next few weeks might bear such titles as, "My dad is going to kill me when he finds out I disobeyed him and went to..." and "Grover didn't get to see the pyramids but he did get see a tank" and "Having no internet or cellphone access for almost a week seriously sucks."

Until then... Hagia Sophia baby!

My Egyptian Education

Yesterday I called up my friend Bassant to see if she was interested in hanging out. I invited her over to the house, thinking she would stay for dinner and then maybe we could stroll around Zamalek and get some cupcakes or something. You know, something casual.

Well, she showed up with her mom and dad in tow ready for an all night adventure out on the town. It was six o'clock at night or as I like to call it- one hour from bedtime. My kids were both in basketcase mode, having skipped naps and woken up several times during the night (this jet lag thing seriously sucks). Plus they were in the middle of taking a bath and I hadn't eaten dinner. Basically, I wasn't prepared to go out and my kids were definitely in no shape to do anything but put on PJ's and pass out. Bassant insisted that I bring them, but I had to draw the line somewhere. My mom and I would join her, but my kids had to stay home. Chris and my dad stepped in as babysitters and I grabbed my camera and a headscarf, because you never know.

At first, Bassant wanted to take us to the light and sound show at the pyramids but I told her I was waiting to do that with my friends who are coming (plus I wanted to get home sometime before midnight), so we headed over to the Al Hussein mosque and Khan el Khalili instead.

Bassant and I in front of the Khan with Al Azhar mosque in the background.

After visiting the mosque, we headed over to the famous El-Fishawy tea house for drinks. Once inside, I felt like everyone's favorite little tourist:

You have to smoke some shisha!

La shukran, I'm pregnant.

You have to get some henna tattoos!

Alright, as long as it's cheap.

You have to order the sahlep!

The what? Sure, order me one.

And THAT was the best decision ever. That stuff was amazing. It's a hot drink with milk and orchid extract, sprinkled with peanuts, raisins and coconut. Simply divine.

After tea, we walked around the Khan and shopped a little bit, although Bassant wouldn't let me buy anything. Every time I tried, she would inquire about the price and then walk away in disgust, telling me it was much too high and she would get it for me cheaper later.

Although I was frazzled at first, I'm really glad I got to spend the evening with Bassant and her parents. Since I saw her last year, she has gotten engaged. It was fun to scroll through the cell phone pictures of her fiance and talk wedding details. When I asked her if she would take her husband's last name or keep her own, she told me she didn't have to decide- they have the same last name, they're first cousins! How convenient. We talked about Mubarak and Tunisia, Disneyland and Justin Bieber. Clark is now faced with the task of tracking down a Justin Bieber poster and transporting it over here without squishing it.

For the most part it was an evening of easy conversation and great company. Although, things did get a little awkward when Bassant's father asked what kind of lawyer Clark is. Um, you know. It's like science and technology. And inventions. Protecting people's inventions. Does that make sense? I'm pretty sure by the looks on their faces, that it did not make sense. This is country where 40% of the population lives on less than $2 a day and one third of the population is illiterate. A country where it is someone's job to hand you toilet paper when you enter the bathroom. Protecting science and technology? Not really.

I'm glad I had my mom with me because she was the perfect excuse to cut the evening short. No matter how hard I try, I will never be able to function on Egyptian time. I told Bassant that next time she has a day off she better give me a call. We'll go shopping and listen to the Biebs.

And just for fun, a family of five plus groceries on a motorcycle. Yesterday, it took an hour and a half to get from Maadi to Zamalek. I take my people watching pretty seriously in the car. Anything to pass the time.

Police Day Demonstrations

I mentioned that yesterday was a holiday, Police Day- a day meant for celebrating the police? I'm not sure. But you would think the police would at least get the day off. Instead they spent their special day dodging rocks and fighting off thousands of angry protesters. More on that story here.

The biggest demonstration took place at Tahrir Square which is just a few miles from my parents house. It killed me to know that something newsworthy was happening so close to home while we were sitting around watching a movie. So Chris and I begged my dad to let us go check it out. He reluctantly agreed as long we promised not to take any photos.

So we went out for what turned out to be a rather uneventful and lovely walk across the river and over near Tahrir Square. Aside from several ambulances speeding by, we didn't see much mostly because we didn't get close enough to the action. We did witness the abnormally empty streets of Cairo which was almost as newsworthy. They had blocked off traffic and shut down cell phone towers in attempt to break up the protests. It was quite surreal to see the streets so vacant.

I did pull my camera out a few times, pretending to take some photos of the sunset...

And then sneaking an out-focus shot of the riot police in front of the Ministry of Communications.

I tried but failed to find a photo that I saw on the news of several angry protesters in front of this same lion just hours early. You'll just have to imagine Booker and Ike as angry young Egyptian men, cell phones in hand, tweeting and chanting, "Mubarak Go Away!"

The Barrages or Al-Kanater

After the camel market, we visited the barrages which is where the Nile splits into two branches and heads off into the delta. We stopped at a cafe and had some mango juice (and a much needed Coke Light for me) and then played at the park.

I love these trees.

As we were strolling across the bridge, I noticed this man riding his donkey and talking on his cell phone. I thought it would make a cool picture so I quickly rummaged through my bag for my camera. The police escorts must have noticed because they chased the guy down and made him stop to pose for a photo. I was mortified.

So Booker's preschool class does this thing called "Grover Sleeps Over." Each kid takes turns bringing Grover home along with a journal where they draw pictures and write about their activities with Grover. Booker's entries usually go something like this, "Grover slept on the bottom bunk while I slept on the top" or "Grover ate mac and cheese with me." I figured Grover could use a little spice in his life, so we got permission to bring him to Cairo. So check out Booker's blog for updates on his adventures with Grover.

The Birqash Camel Market

Yesterday was a holiday here in Cairo so my dad and little brother didn't have work or school. We decided to head out of the city to the Birqash camel market. I suspect this was my dad's way of getting us out of Cairo and away from the planned demonstrations/protests. More on that later.

We arrived a little late and most of the camels had already been bought/sold, but it was still fun to walk around looking at the camels.

They hobble the camels so they can't walk around.

Guys with rifles who escorted us around. Because we all know how dangerous camels can be... especially when one of their legs is tied up.

Camel hides.

Just outside the market, there was a mass camel grave (and beyond that, a soccer field?) I guess they don't make the sick camels walk too far before shooting them.

And next to the grave, a dump of burning garbage. If only you could capture smell through a picture... even from within the car, the smell was pretty powerful.

Al Azhar Park

View from Al Azhar park.

I'm feeling some pressure to blog everything I do in Cairo, which is fine except that we haven't done much lately. I'm sure that will change once our good friends the Glausers show up and the serious touring begins. Until then, we've been lying low and trying to establish some sort of normal sleep pattern. Not going so well- I just woke up from a 2 hour afternoon nap. Thanks, mom!

We did make it out to Al Azhar park today. Al Azhar park, the park that doesn't allow balls or walking on the grass, which sounds like a bummer of a park but it was just what the boys needed. We played on the playground (attracting only minor attention from the other kids and their cell phone cameras), ate some lunch, strolled around the grounds and tried to soak up some Vitamin D through all that thick Cairo smog.

Some observations from the past few days...

- My feet swelled up like huge sausages on the plane ride over. They're just now starting to return to normal size. It's really strange to not recognize your own feet. I tried to teach Booker how to massage my feet but he just ends up punching them.

- Sweet potatoes must be in season because all the street corners have little oven carts that will bake them up for you over a fire for one pound (18 cents). I can't wait to try one.

- Which leads me to street food. I had decided that I should probably refrain from eating street food and just stick to clean looking, well established restaurants. At the very least, street food might aggravate my heartburn. At the very worst, I might get a bad case case of diarrhea which would give me contractions which would lead to early labor which would lead to a premature baby in a NICU-less Egyptian hospital. Totally plausible, right? Street food = dead baby. But all that changed when I got here and remembered how much I love koshary and tamiya (falafel) and sharwarma. When I was little, my parents would call me the Sharwarma Queen. I think I'm more of a Tamiya Queen nowadays. I had three tamiya sandwiches for lunch. THREE!?! Did I mention that I have a new prescription for my heartburn that is super effective?

- This might be a broad generalization, but I think Egyptians are eager to help foreigners. Maybe overly eager. Today at the park one of the security guards came running at me to inform me that my park ticket was halfway out of my back pocket and IT COULD FALL OUT AT ANY TIME (I was already inside the park and didn't even need my ticket anymore). Except he didn't speak English and I don't speak Arabic, so he spent a lot of time pointing at my butt looking concerned. I was really embarassed.

- Another broad generalization? Egyptians are much better parents than I am. I sat on the park bench drifting in and out of sleep this afternoon while other parents helped my kids up onto the slides, pushed them on the swings and acted concerned when they would face plant in the sand. Back in the states, I would be very alarmed if a heavily bearded man volunteered to push Ike on the swing. Today though, I would have hugged that nice Egyptian man if it weren't considered so inappropriate.

- Zizou is a nickname for the Egyptian footballer, Mohammed Zidan whose jersey Booker was wearing today. I didn't know this so when everyone kept yelling Zizou in our direction, I just assumed they loved Wes Anderson films as I much I do.

- Remember how I said that the culture shock might be less intense this time around. I was wrong. The traffic here still leaves me speechless.

We Made It!

We're here and we're alive. Ish. It's 3:30 in the morning and Booker is up for the day. I can forgive him though because he slept for 8 hours (in a row!) on our New York to Cairo flight. I set my alarm in Tucson Thursday morning for 4:30 a.m. and got to my parents house in Cairo around 6 p.m. on Friday. I got about 2 hours of fitful sleep somewhere in there. It was a bear of a trip made worse by the fact that Ike just. would. not. sleep.

At one point, I had finally got him to sleep and snuggled up on his dog bed on the ground in front of me. Not five minutes later the flight attendant came around to inform me that it's "against the rules to sleep on the ground. Any airline. Any ground. Even on Quantas." Even on Quantas, what the!?! I paused for a moment, deciding if I wanted to react as rage-filled and indignant sleep deprived mother or as emotional and unstable sleep deprived mother. She must have seen what was coming, because that witchy flight attendant decided to let sleeping Ike's lie. I nearly cried tears of relief.

Other than that, we made it. Our luggage made it. I didn't cry once. And several of my fellow passengers (who all seemed to be elderly east coast tourists) even complimented me on how well behaved my children were. Which is the best compliment ever given how nervous and stressed I've been about this trip.

But that's enough about sleep and deprivation. It feels good to be here. I've missed my family terribly. After I stumbled off to bed, Chris built an elaborate fort in Booker's room and put him to bed inside of it. When Ike woke up last night at 11:30 thinking it was time to get up, my dad spent an hour (hours? I've lost all track of time) quietly convincing him that it was still the middle of the night. And I got several hours of glorious uninterrupted sleep in an actual bed thanks to them.

From my brief (only 45 minutes!) ride from the airport, my impression is that Cairo is the same place. I was surprised that I recognized many areas and was able to orient myself once we got to my parents neighborhood. Zamalek appears to be the same except that a little cupcake shop has opened up. Man, cupcakes must by popular if they've made it all the way to Egypt. You better believe I want to find out what an Egyptian cupcake tastes like. Perhaps the culture shock will be a little less intense this time. As we drove home, I thought to myself, "Of course we are driving in the middle of two lanes, alarmingly weaving in and out of traffic and occasionally blaring a police siren. This is Cairo."

Anyways, off to read my book until the sun rises. I'm glad to be on vacation.

Some Thoughts

Since I don't want my last post before leaving for Cairo to be about Christmas, here's a quick rundown of what's been on my mind lately.

Venus of Willendorf. Remember your first day of Art History 201? I do. I feel like a giant Venus of Willendorf right now. I loathe being pregnant. Maybe I'll order this for Clark and he can cuddle up to it during the week that we spend apart.

Ike. My soon to be middle child. There's so much I want to remember about this kid right now. Things like how when he wants to get out of the bath he says, "Nipples. Bath. Done." Which is how everyone should exit the bath really. Man, I love that kid.

Traveling. I've done some crazy things while pregnant. Skiing, wake boarding, camping in California three days before Booker arrived. But nothing compares to traveling across the globe with two little kids (and no husband) while 6 months pregnant. Oh and did I mention that on two of the flights the three of us are seated in separate areas of the plane!?! I'm panicking. Or should I be grateful and pretend that I don't know who those whiney kids in the back of the plane are?

Tucson. I'm sure many of you have heard about the tragic events that happened here in Tucson last Saturday. I can't seem to tear myself away from the news, can't stop going out of my way to drive past UMC and just can't seem to shake this overall feeling of anxiety and paranoia brought on by something so violent and unexpected. I wish I wasn't so neurotic. In an effort to understand what happened, some people have had some less than nice things to say about Tucson and Arizona in general. That makes me sad. As a hometown-less girl trying to make a hometown out of Tucson, my heart is weeping but I also feel a great sense of pride to be a part of this community. And shouldn't that count for something? Because, seriously, I've lived in enough communities to compare... Riyadh, Saudi Arabia anyone? So thank you Tucson, for giving me the right to drive my vehicle and for letting me leave the house without my husband's permission but most of all, for proving to me that you are a city full of acts of love, bravery and understanding even during this awfully dark time. I'm proud to claim you as my home.

Adoption. On a lighter note. Do you like cute hair clips? Do you like the idea of two Ethiopian siblings moving to Knoxville, Tennessee to become members of one of the most extraordinary families I know? I like this idea a lot. And if I were expecting a girl instead of a boy, you better believe I'd be stock-piling these super cute, fund-raising hair clips. Head on over here to buy them or just to read a really incredible story. It will lift your neurotic, travel-anxious, pregnant/bloated spirit.

Christmas Day

Booker sprinting towards the tree, clutching his nerf gun. Santa left him one present outside his room so that when he woke up (much, much earlier than the rest of house), he'd have something to play with.

Booker opened one more gift after his nerf gun (some Star Wars action guys) and declared it to be "THE BEST CHRISTMAS EVER!!!!!" Which means that Santa bought a lot of unnecessary presents this year.

Clark totally surprised me this year with a bicycle and a trailer. I'm so thrilled. I've never owned my own bike before! I think I loved the surprise almost as much as the bike itself. Usually I hand Clark a list of exactly what I want for Christmas. So when I went out to the garage and found this, I was pretty excited. How he got the bike and the trailer home in his little Jetta, I'll never understand.

We had a great Christmas. I loved having Marie, Kyle, Amara and Danny with us. Christmas with little kids really is the best. As they get older, their gifts get more expensive and not as abundant. I love that I can wrap up some crap from the dollar store and Ike is overjoyed.

After some much needed Christmas naps, we headed up to Mesa and had dinner with the Proffitts. It took some negotiating, but eventually Booker and Ike agreed that bringing three Christmas toys each up to Mesa would be sufficient. Thank goodness all the Christmas toys made it back to Tucson at the end of the night.

Christmas 2010 = Epic Win.