Travel Log entry #1

So I've actually been writing these log entries for a while, but I haven't been posting them. Weird, I know. Anyway, better late than never; here's the entry for my first day.

Day One:
As the plane landed and I looked out below, Egypt looked like any other miniature landscape; perhaps a bit more brown, but I warrant that’s the sand’s doing. Gazing out the window, I feel like I should be in some chick flick, and some sinuous, vaguely Egyptian music should be playing in the background hinting at adventures to come—but there is no soundtrack, no dashing stranger I’ve met on the plane. In my heart I begin to understand why people claimed Egypt would challenge me. I barely know the language and my afro and dark skin are odd. I already feel the battle for my self-worth beginning. What am I doing here? How to charm these people when I feel so utterly alone?

I obviously stick out, the looks I get say it. But luckily I am out of the airport and Mahmoud and company are waiting for me. His accent is pleasant and I suddenly feel like things may be sort of okay. Thank you God for this at least. On the ride over, we exchange questions in broken English, because the Arabic I do know seems unsalvageable. I’ve got a long way to go and so I shoot up a silent prayer. Help me fall in love with this country and culture. Only then can I truly learn the language. Egypt and Nigeria are very similar, I notice as we head home. It’s just as bloody hot here.

We head upstairs, with help from local men to get my luggage. There is a young girl who smiles at me with eyes like a lion’s. I envy her those eyes, but smile back. Up, up, up the stairs and then I am tackled with a warm hug and English as we open the door to the apartment. Mahmoud’s sister, my sister is a glowing young woman with some knowledge of French I later discover. French may help me learn Arabic. Go figure.

As I sit in my bed, sort of unpacked, with my shower out of the way, I feel utterly bewildered. Nevertheless the Magdy’s are sweethearts and I know that if nothing else I will have friends here. They enjoyed the presents I brought over for them, my sister most of all. I think we bonded somehow, because now she wants me to visit Egypt every year. She also says “I love you,” now and then. All in a day’s work I say.

Though perhaps I should get my hair braided. Am I chickening out? Trying to blend in? In America my natural hair is a novelty. People like it, or at least are curious. But here? I feel the reception may be different. I guess I’m not as strong as I thought I was.
In other news, I’ve taken a rather strong liking to Turkish coffee and this “green tea” that Heba keeps giving me (which really tastes more like chamomile with honey to me).

All log entries will be copied as comments in my travel log section!