Christmas Cards to Heaven

It’s Christmas again, well Christmas eve, and I’m sitting at the airport in Cairo waiting to board my plane to take me to Istanbul. Today, I’ve been thinking a lot about the people I left in San Francisco. Clearly I’m having an unforgettable time, but it’s the holidays and the airport soundtrack is full of the most damn nostalgic songs. Ok enough with the Sinead O’Connor Cairo International, really.  Briefly I want to wish everyone I love in San Francisco, Los Angeles, Kentucky, Indiana, Texas, Oklahoma, Maryland, Florida, Australia, Egypt, and everywhere else in the world where you may be, a very Merry Christmas. If I were home you would be getting another one of my traditional Christmas cards, with a lovely picture of me and one very pissed off Bruiser in reindeer ears. However, since that isn’t happening this year, this is the best I got. Also I wanted to, more importantly, write a note to the people who are not going to receive my Christmas card this year.

Dear Dad, Adrian, and Gregor,

        HI! How’s it going? It’s been awhile since I made an attempt to speak to you, I’m sorry for that, but I assume you are following my every move. To me this is evident through circumstances of my life in this moment, and every moment of the past year. I wish you were here so I could tell you all about my adventures in 2010, and how through your influence I was brave enough to accept all challenges. Did you know I moved to the Middle East to become a teacher? I know, random…but I think if you saw me in my element you would be proud.

Dad, I remember all the art lessons you gave me as a child, well my students love them. Every morning when I look in the mirror, and I see my dark brown hair and prominent ears I see a product of you. Thank you for giving me “Garcia” and somewhat Hispanic appearance, nothing makes me more proud than to call myself your daughter.  Our last Christmas together you gave me a tradition Native American dream catcher. I curse the 13 year old girl who carelessly lost it, but it’s O.K because now, as I get older and witness the products of my manifestations, I see you’ve made sure that that dream catcher has been over my bed the whole time.

Adrian sometimes I pretend that you are sitting in bed with me and I look at you and tell you about the crazy things I’ve been doing. You always look back at me, smile and say “well of course why do you think I picked you”. You are the reason I started traveling, and are the reason I continue. I choose to sail in the Caribbean and scuba dive in the Red Sea because you can’t. I honor you and our relationship by living through your memory. Thank you for allowing me to do this.

Gregor while having a tequila induced conversation with you we began discussing the places of your past 6 months of travel. You named of Mexico, Brazil, London, and Chicago ….I said “I want your life” and you replied (in very typical Gregor fashion) “Darling, I want you in my life”. Done! You were awesome travel buddy. Completely experienced, yet unpretentious.  “Plane tickets are the easiest things in the world to buy”, you told me once. I think about this statement all the time, and how it continues to shape a lot of spontaneous decisions.

Up until now you three have been the men of my life. Thank you God for making me deserving of this. It’s completely true that the encounters of our past, good and bad, pave the path we are presently walking.

It's that time of year again, where we should indulge in happiness. Christmas has that wonderful way of making us forget about sadness, and remember what is truly important. Tomorrow, I hope everyone hugs those who you love, and maybe even those who you don’t. So like always, I’m sending lots of love from Africa. Have your-self a very Merry Christmas. All my love,

     Tobie.

And in the words of Gregor. “say hello to ya mutha for me”

Arabic 101

Arabic has definitely been an interesting and challenging language to learn. It has a completely different script and sentence structure than Western languages. When I first got here I was teaching myself to write, and I was slowly starting to read signs and menus. You write and read from right to left, except for number they are written/read left to write. Really, I’ve become quite dexterous. Also, they only use the vowels e, u (pronounced eeeeeew), and i. So I’m not Mrs. tObie, I’m Mrs. tUbie (teeeeeeeewbie). Also they don’t have P in their alphabet, so anything with P is replaced with a B. Would you like a Bebsi to drink? Where is your Baba (dad)? I think the native speakers have an extra voice instrument in their throats, because there are such harsh pronunciations on some letters, which is nearly impossible for me to say without looking like I’m dry heaving. Also there are hundreds of different dialects in Arabic, but the Egyptian dialect is the most widely spoken because of the cinema (Cairo is the Hollywood of the Middle East). There are even smaller dialect differences between towns in Egypt, even differences between the West Bank and East Bank. So I learn a new word, and then five minutes later being corrected.

I’m writing these words the way they sound to an English speaker, NOT THE WAY THE ARE CORRECTLY SPELLED. So any Egyptian friends who are reading this, I’m so sorry for butchering your language.

Salaam                                                                    Hello

Salaam Alaykuhm                                                 Hello, peace be with you

Ma’Salaama                                                         Goodbye

Ahlwa                                                        yes (also naa’m, but not in the same context)

 La’a                                                                           No

Shukran                                                                  Thank you

Afwan                                                                        You’re welcome

Lo Simaht/lo simahti                                                Excuse me (m/f)

Min Fadlak/ min fadlik                                             please (m/f)

Saba al Khayr                                                       Good morning (literal translation            

                                                                              the morning is good)

  „         „   ful                                                                (the response)-flower

                  Asal                                                           honey

                  Noor                                                          new

                  Helwa                                                       sweet/nicel about

                  Lebon                                                     milk

Dispa al Khayr                                                        goodnight

So in the morning when I pass people on the streets they will say Saba al Khayr, and my response is Saba al ful. I don’t believe there is a word for good afternoon, so you say saba al khayr until about 5 in the evening, till you switch over to Mesa al khayr.

Kay Falhad                                                        how was your day?

Kulu tamom                                                      everything fine?

Kulu kwais                                                            Are you good?

Humdulila                                                            Fine (response)

Mia mia                                                                     perfect                   

Nos nos                                                              50 50. or ok ok

Tabana                                                                   tired

This is generally how people greet each other informally. I say this to the kids a lot. “Enti kwais habibi” translates to “Are you doing O.K my darling”

Ana                                                                          I

Enti                                                                      you

Fi                                                                         Here

This is how you ask for something. When I’m looking for one of my students I say “fi Mohamed” “Is Mohamed here?”or if I walk into a restaurant and I want a soda I say “Fi Bebsi” “Do you have Pepsi?”

Fin                                                       Where?

Bekam                                                 How much?

Malish                                                   Sorry

Mafish                                                   Unfortunately

Mafish mashkila                                 unfortunately not here

Faka                                                   Change (as in money)

You say “fi faka” When you buy something and the person doesn’t give you your change. “Where’s my change”

Hisap                                                         Check in a restaurant

Halas                                                   Stop! Finish! Quit! Enough!

Again, another word I use almost everyday with the kids

Vas                                                enough (used in terms if someone is pouring a drink)

Yalla                                                  Start! Lets go! Hurry up!

Imshi                                                       Get away

Ya zefta                                                  You piece of shit

These are very disrespectful words, so I only use then when necessary. It’s usually followed by some big verbal altercation, or total shock that a foreigner knows this lingo. Thanks Roujy.

Mumkin                                                        If Possible

Mish munkin                                           Not posible

Isma                                                                Listen

Busi                                                               look

Habibi/habibti                           (term of endearment) My darling, my sweet, my love

I love this word. It was one of the first words I learned in Arabic, because I spent a lot of time with a German couple who had been living here for about 6 months, and she called her husband Habibi. I say this to my students a lot and the animals. We finally named our cat Habibi Zefta (my darling piece of shit) you can imagine the reaction from neighbors when we call her in at night.

Helwa                                                        good or nice

Magnun                                                    crazy

Another term I use with the kids. “Enti magnum” “you’re crazy!”

Owi                                                                   a lot

Hena                        here (When looking for little Mohamed, I usually get an answer                

                                  from the kids “Mohamed hena” Mohamed’s here

Ana ishi hena                                           I live here   

Ami                                                                   Uncle

Khti (sounds like Hoti)                                 Sister

 Ahuya                                                           brother

Culture point : In the Quran everyone is considered your brother or sister and should be treated as so. So these are also terms of respect. If I really like someone, say a man that runs the fruit shop, I would call him “ya ami”. If someone on the street was very kind, then I would say “Shokran ya ami” “Thank you my Uncle”  

Also this is interesting because in Tagalog sister is atti and brother is kuyo, I read somewhere that there are a lot of Arabic influences in many other languages.                                                 

Shwia                                                               Slow down

Tini                                                                  more! or again!

Chamel                                                            turn left

Yamen                                                         turn right

A la tool                                                      keep going strait

Mudarisa                                                      Teacher

Madessa areman                                       German school

Amrika                                                              American

“Ana Englizi mudarisa medessa Areman” “Im an English teacher in the German School”  (not grammatically perfect, but they get the point)

Wahashtini                                                   I miss you!

I left my heart in Dahab

 I found it. It exists. It has a name, and I know where to point it out on a map. It’s called Dahab, and by all measures in my mind and heart this place is Holy. The people are unlike any I’ve ever met, and the scenery is too beautiful to be examined through a calendar or travel magazine. It can only truly judge and absorbed by the naked eye.  It’s a little seaside town nestled at the base of the Sinai mountain range along the coast of the Sinai Peninsula. A perfect culture blend of Bohemian Gypsy travelers, former Egyptian city dwellers who have runaway to the sea, backpackers from all over the world, the native Bedouin people, and the best looking men in Egypt. I heard nothing but amazing things about this place, so I decided it was time for a look. After three months of an intensive work load nothing seemed like a better idea.  Diving is religion here, and I’ve wanted my certification for awhile, so I signed up with a small diving company to get my Open Water Certificate. My class consisted of my dive buddy- Sarah, 2 other students –The Norwegians, and our instructor Ahmed.

Having karkahdeh Beduoin style (sitting on the floor
with mats and pillows) staring at the sea. From here 
you can see all the way to Saudi Arabia.

I left Luxor Thursday afternoon via bus, arrived Friday and class began promptly Saturday morning. The first day was nothing but boring in class videos (snooze), but I was able to use this time productively by catching up on much needed sleep that I lost during my 21 hour bus ride. The following days were generally the same, I would meet my new friends at the dive center, load all our gear into the back of a truck, climb into a jeep, make our way to the water, spend the better part of the day in the water exploring the reefs and learning techniques, end by sunset, load all or gear back into the truck, head back to the dive center, clean everything, leave, make my way to food-any food and as fast as possible-, have a beer with the Norwegians,  and fall asleep around 9 with my dive manual on my chest, wake up and repeat.

 Diving in the Red Sea is on my top 3 most incredible accomplishments to date, and I really only scratched the surface. The deepest descent we made was 18 meters (approximately 60 feet). I saw more animals snorkeling in Belize, but here it was through completely different eyes. Being completely underwater is the most euphoric feeling EVER. I would go all the way to the bottom and look up to massive walls and cliffs of coral filled with tiny “fish cities” busy with their daily routines.  The sun beams were shining through the surface and it left strokes of rainbows and light through the water. Fish would swim right next to you and you could perfectly see their colorful patterns and unique shapes.  I was so overwhelmed in these moments that I would have these fits of uncontrollable laughter and completely fill my mask with salt water.

After a full day of diving, im clearly exhausted. Me and the Norwegians.

 After about 4 days of this I past my final exam and I am officially PADI certified and can dive anywhere in the world.  Any interests in joining me in these quests can inquire below. I ran out of time and money, so I didn’t do anymore dives, but the plan as of now is to return in April for my Advanced Open Water Course, and check out the local canyons, shipwrecks, and remote reefs where it is said to be common for nursing dolphin sightings. I had the original intention to spend my last few days trekking through the desert and climbing Mt Sinai. This is where it is believed Moses received the 10 commandments.  However, I received the 11^th commandment on my 4^th day in Dahab-though shall not do too much exercise on vacation-so instead I opted to lay seaside/poolside/sexy Egyptian manside for the last 3 days.  Such a better idea!

"Studying" with Sarah

 I’ve found that in my life, I can only function 1 or 2 ways. I’m either completely overloading myself with responsibilities, tasks, and work-or-unbelievably lazy, procrastinator to the fullest and overindulging at all possible times. I can’t honestly reflect to a period in my life when I managed some sort of balance. It’s always black or white. Maybe  because I’m American and I constantly feel a need to work, build, make money, complete things, OR maybe it’s my eager soul that pushes me do do do . But for the first time ever, I was able to find this balance.  The voice inside my head that said “use your time wisely” “go trekking” “go horseback riding” “you can sunbath anywhere” “get off your ass”  was dismissed and I felt what relaxation was. It was awesome; I sat for hours and just stared at the sea completely content. My heart was pumping honey for 7 days straight. At night I browsed the shops, chatted with the locals impressing them with my Arabic, met other young travelers, hung with the Bedouin kids, and  ate dinner or drank tea alone -these were some of the most blissful moments of the whole week.

 The Egyptians in Dahab are some of the friendliest people I’ve met. I was in a shop searching for a particular statue for a friend, and the only one I could find was chipped. I asked the man in the shop if he had another one undamaged. He rummaged through the shelves, but unfortunately they were out. The adjacent shop was completely identical, so I my next idea was to check there.

 Culture point: When shopping in the Middle East if you look, glance, peek, gaze, ponder or an item happens to accidently come slightly into your line of vision then you are considered by the shop keeper to be immediately interested. YOU NEVER stop and give it a longer stare, because then you own it, and the unwritten law is you have to buy it…at least that’s what the shop keeper thinks.  And when you tell him your just having a look…well… there’s no such thing.

So for me to come in this shop and finger around, ask for things and go out empty handed was unheard of.

  So I sheepishly asked him, “Is that your shop next door, because maybe there is one over there, and I want to buy it from you because you’re so nice and helpful and I’ve really enjoyed my time in this store you have so many nice things?” (Yea good Tobie, use lots of flattery)

 And the reply…

“No it’s not my shop, it’s my neighbors shop but maybe they have one.” “Go and have a look.”

Followed by about 30 seconds of me staring wide eyed and confused.

“What?” I thought.  You’re not going to tell me to wait a moment, run next door, buy it for Egyptian price, and then charge me triple, and lay the biggest guilt trip when I refuse to pay 5000 pounds for a 5 inch wooden statue.

“UUuuhhhhh Ok?” I said in total disbelief that this conversation just took place, and slowly turned and left the shop.

Shopping with my snorkel and fins.

No statues were purchased, but I did manage a small splurge on some bright red MC Hammer pants, colorful Bedouin jewelry.  By day 5, my inner hippie was in full force. I hadn’t washed my hair in days, my clothes were all dirty and stained from the salt water, and all I could think about was how peaceful this place made me feel-loving it all. Unfortunately the time came to go home, and I seriously considered calling my boss in Luxor to tell him I won’t be returning, adding to the list of runaway city dwellers.  If anyone saw the tears I shed when I left San Francisco they can imagine my state when leaving Dahab. I love my city by the bay, but I think it’s taken a backseat to my village by the sea.



Sunset over the Sinai Mountains.



Typical Luxor





 I've been on holiday for the past week and half, and my writing has taken a back seat to sun bathing, diving, and being an all around beach bum. I will tell you all about my time in the magical land of Dahab, later this week. Meanwhile to occupy you eager eye, here are a few pictures I've snapped in and around Luxor. 

Rose, Roujy, and I making breakfast on a Saturday morning.

Typical Egyptian breakfast; ful (smooshy beans), bread, fruit salad, veggies, boiled eggs, and coffee.



The feluccas (sailboats) making trips up and down the Nile. My house is behind these buildings.



Sheep herding in the fields behind my school. Unfortunately none of these sheep are still on the planet. Last week was the Islamic holiday Eid Sied, and these all got slaughtered for the holy feast. Baaaaa



Fruit and bread stands. Generally a bag of bread is about 1 Egyptian Pound (about 20 cents) and a bunch of bananas, 3 guavas, 2 pomegranates, and a couple apples are about 20 Egyptian Pounds ($4).

Walking through the Souk on my way home from work.

This is one of my neighbors naughty camels. He escaped, and I found him eating all the flowers in another neighbors yard.

I took this walking through the village near my school. This is a puplic water fountain, because of the heat they are placed everywhere. They have metal cups chained to them, so anyone can come get a drink of water on hot days. Here are some of the village kids climbing up to get some water. I love them. Every morning they run up to me waving and screaming "Hello!" "Hello!". I think they are so proud to know this English word, because they scream it until Im out of sight. Sometimes the little boys run off and  pick me back flowers. They know how to play at my heart strings!

This isnt typical, but the Arabic teacher made ful one day at school so we all sat on the ground and ate together.

Here is the view of the Luxor Temple and the Mosk. Im sitting in a cafe having tea and chocolate mousse after work.



Leaving work.



Cairo, yalla!

How I managed to go 6 weeks in Egypt without visiting Cairo is beyond me. Not only is it the largest city in Egypt, but Africa as well. It is the center of the regions political and cultural life, considered by most the Hollywood of the Middle East. Home of the Pyramids, The Sphinx, many historic churches and temples, and ten million people who are swept up in the sandstorm where the desert collides with a bustling city. Rosa my roommate and new friend arrived 4 weeks prior, so we immediately made plans to visit. Rosa has familiarized herself with the city after she met her boyfriend Roujy, a 3 year resident. For this reason I felt confident tagging along with them, giving them the duties of tour guide.

Rosa spent the last year teaching in the slums of India and has since insisted on practicing the ways of the Indians. She sometimes prefers to eat dinner on the floor, washes her fruit with her sleeve, and thinks it’s a good idea to take a ten hour Egyptian train in 2^nd class. I had no disagreements considering the price was only 90 LE (18USD) round trip. Considering the only available time to make this trip would be during a weekend, we would take the overnight train leaving Thursday after school, show up in Cairo Friday at 4am, and leave Cairo Saturday at 8pm to be back in time for school Sunday morning. Sounds ambitious, but I was excited.

So we were off.

We made our way to the train station, climbed aboard, found our seats amongst a slew of curious Egyptian man eyes, and settled in with my Arabic book. Even our Egyptian colleagues were a little perplexed that we decided on 2^nd class, but we thought nothing of it…yet.

I’m not going to use this paragraph to complain about the train ride, because I don’t want to shine a negative light on Egypt’s fine rail system, but hopefully I can paint a vivid image of the people who use this form of transportation.  The chairs are in rows of two, I’m sitting beside Rosa, and the man across the aisle one seat up is turned around in his seat not even making an attempt to pretend he isn’t staring through my shirt. I ignore it. The man beside me is chomping away on sunflower seeds and spitting them back on the floor missing my toes by about 3 cm. I ignore it. The guys behind us are playing Arabic music and farm animal noises on their phone purposely holding the speaker behind our heads. I ignore it. There is the most pungent smell of vomit lingering through the air straight into my nose. I ignore it. A baby is screaming bloody murder 10 seats up. I ignore it. One man across the aisle has his shoes off, and his feet rested on the back of the seat in front of him with about 5 years worth of dirt caked into his toes nail. I can’t ignore that.

Men walk up and down the aisle selling chips, bottled water, newspapers, and tea. They solicit these items as if you were at a baseball game, but only in Arabic. I bought a cup of tea for about 1.5 LE (60 cents) which was a terrible idea considering my bladder is the size of a lima bean. The bathrooms are located between the cars, and if you’ve ever ridden a train you know it’s the scariest location because of the bulging gap that connects the two cars. The train is shaking like a paper airplane in Hurricane Katrina, and I’m trying to walk down the aisle without falling over onto Mohamed or Abdulla or Ahmed’s lap provoking even more unwanted attention. I make it to the “bathroom” open the door to find about an inch of water stagnant on the floor. Of course I’m wearing pant that are too long and drag, so I’m simultaneously trying to roll my cuffs and not go flying on the floor into the stagnant piss water. I get my cuffs up, my pants down, and am trying to squat over the toilet and hold myself upright making sure not to touch anything.  Then I have the realization there’s no toilet paper, there’s never any fucking toilet paper in Egypt, and my tissues are in my purse, on my seat far far away. So there I am, dangling above the toilet trying to “air dry”, when the train takes a sudden jerk.  My first instinct is to brace myself with the nearest stable object -that happened to be the door with a broken lock- which goes flying open exposing my air drying technique to Mohamed, Abdulla, and Ahmed.

Roujies family lives in Minya, which is the halfway point between Luxor and Cairo, and he was there visiting but waited for our train and hopped aboard to continue on our voyage to Cairo. By now it was about midnight I was exhausted from working all day and starving. Rouyj saved my life by bringing us falafel sandwiched and ful (smashed beans inside Egyptian flat bread), which put me in a pleasant food coma.

at least someone slept

The next thing I knew I was horseback riding through the most beautiful green field. The sun was shining and there were wildflowers everywhere. I was having the time of my life on that horse, galloping through this field when I heard Rosa’s voice in the distant calling my name. I popped out of my sleep realizing I was still on a 2^nd class car on an Egyptian train, but at least we were pulling up to Cairo.

By now it was 4am, and our initial decision was to drop our bags, shower, and be at the Pyramids at 6 for the sunset. However, this idea was quickly dismissed and instead replace with a more sensible plan of sleep and sightseeing around 10.

The next morning we made our way out heading for Old Cairo. First though, I was promised a proper cup of coffee, since I have only been drinking instant for the past 6 weeks. I was like a heroin addict when we turned the corner, and there was a normal modern looking coffee shop. A shop like this I would no doubt completely boycott in San Francisco, but here it was paradise.

Old Cairo, also referred to as Coptic Cairo, is the oldest part of the city. The compound is surrounded by the walls of the 3^rd century AD Roman fortress of Babylon. After the decline of The Pharaonic religions and before the latter rise of Islam, Egypt was a predominately Christian. Now, the remnants of this past society are still visible and used by members of the local Christian communities. Old Cairo is a spread of intrinsic churches and synagogues interlaced within quant and narrow streets. We made our way through each historic church taking in the delicate but elaborate facades, the scent of incense burning in the air, and quietly lighting candles to represent a personal wish or prayer.

lighting candles for safe travels

watching some kids play futbol

in front of hang church

After, our sights through Old Cairo we met up with Roujy for dinner which included a whole grilled fish, tomato and cucumber salad, Tahina, Egyptian flat bread, and shrimp rice. Delicious! We walked around downtown Cairo for a while attempting to do some shopping, must mostly enjoying our surroundings.

The women carry everything this way. They either have amazing
 balance, or really flat heads. In Luxor once, I saw a woman carrying
 a basket on her head with a live duck inside.

First thing I learned in Arabic was my numbers

These cute fluffy bunnies are dinner no doubt.

 Once the evening fell, we strolled through the night market, which is a maze of narrow streets lined with shops that sell spices, fruits, pottery, and souvenirs.

buying roasted corn

 I gingerly walked around hoping to buy some jewelry and a futbol jersey. With no luck we settled on tea and mahallabiyaa (Egyptian rice pudding) at an outdoor café. Rosa, Rougjy, another friend Mikey , and I sat around with a shisha, drank tea, and for the first time since I have been in Egypt I felt my age.

 I was surrounded by peers in a café full of young people out enjoying the evening and the company of others. Don’t get me wrong I love Luxor, but never the less it is a village.

The atmosphere is small and quiet, and my daily routine makes me feel like I have aged 20 years. But Cairo was instantly familiar and refreshing. It is like any international city-but with an Arabic flare- full of culture and character that shines through in the museums, shops, food, and residents. The personality of the city sang to my heart, and I was unaware that I needed this feeling desperately.

Roujy forbid me from taking pictures of the beauty, but I got one!

 The following day we made an early start for the pyramids. We stopped for my much needed fix of caffeine, and were picked up by Roujy in a 1983 baby blue Volkswagen Bug. Words won’t describe the beauty of this car, but she took my breath away when I laid eyes on her. She was a trusty machine, and we all managed to squeeze in like clowns in a circus, and take off for Giza.  

The weather was comfortable all weekend, which helped when we got stuck in the infamous Cairo traffic. I invented a game that I like to call “Guess how many lanes are on a Cairo freeway”. Rose guessed 3, I said 7, but Roujy gave the most appropriate answer of only 1 big lane.  On the roads there are no dividing lines, defining any particular space from another, so cars just drive as fast as they can, cutting people off, blaring their horns, and squeezing themselves trough any openings between cars they can find. It’s really quite entertaining!

We made our way to the Pyramids, and the photo shoot began.

there are 6 in total



I shot this as we were leaving, so sad to go



                          I knew this was the day my mom was most excited about, so I made her a video. Enjoy mom!

After about 5 hours in Giza, we came back to Cairo for lunch and shopping before our 8 pm train. We were exhausted from being in the sun all day, so we found a nice outdoor café to drink tea, eat baklava, and rest before our 10 hour journey home.

Rosa says I smile like an American

but I say she smiles like a German.

At 8pm we got to our train, lugged 4 bags on, waved goodbye to Rougjy, and attempted to sleep. Our plan was to leave at 8pm and arrive in Luxor at 6am, go home for a quick shower and be at work by 8. For all intents and purposes this seemed like a good idea, except that nothing is on time in Egypt and our train left and hour late. Even though I was beyond exhausted, I couldn’t sleep because Egyptians don’t speak to each other in a normal volume, the air conditioner was cranked up, and I was so cold my body felt wet. My seat was broke and it only had two positions, straight up or completely back into the lap of the man behind me. Finally when I dazed off around 4 am I was abruptly woken at 5 thanks to the gentleman blaring the morning “call of prayer” on his phone and walking up and down the aisles for everyone to hear. We arrived in Luxor, with about an hour before school started, so we hopped on a bus and went directly there. I was disheveled, delirious, and reeked of cigarette smoke because smoking is allowed on trains. We were the first to arrive, and waited outside till the security guard let us onto the property. The doors to the building were locked, so we went to the back yard area to wait for Klaus to arrive.

This is how our principal found his esteemed English and German teachers Sunday morning……