Expat Goin' Home (The Other Way)

Every time I leave the States to return to Egypt, I do so with mixed feelings.

It's hard to pack up your bags, kiss your family and friends goodbye, and get on that airplane bound for another country. And no matter how many times I do it, it doesn't get any easier.

Home is a very loose term that I use for basically anywhere I feel like calling home at the moment. It could be our flat in Cairo or my parents' house in KY or the hotel room where we're staying. I am not by any means trying to downplay the significance of *coming home* or *going home* but rather how I sometimes say the word home to mean a variety of places.

I think maybe I need to expand my vocabulary, what do you think?

Because basically I am in effect leaving home while going home at the same time. Boy is that confusing or what?!

So by leaving home, I am leaving many beloved people and things behind. Again.

Family members are always the hardest to say goodbye to, especially now that there is a grandchild (my son) on my side of the family. It has been so special this time to be with them while my son is at such a tender age where he learns something new practically every day. And since we were in the States for almost a month, it was kind of nice being around enough to kind of feel like it was "normal" to see them every day. We could just swing by my grandmother's for a bit while we waited to go meet someone. We could show up unannounced at my parents' house without having to call first. I could have late night chats with my sister while we play endless rounds of Super Mario World.  It was just another day.  And it was nice.

On a lighter note, I think I'll miss simply the ease of being in the States. It's easy to drive anywhere not just because I have a car (albeit a rental) but also because everything is so accessible. I can go through the drive-thru for breakfast, lunch, and dinner if I want to. I can easily find a parking spot in just about any place I choose to go. Need to go shopping? Well, the sky is the limit because I have any number of grocery stores within a 10 mile radius from where we're staying! And I can't even begin to describe the mass amounts of ready-made products available in every grocery store in the USA.

Yes, I will definitely miss things being more easy.  And don't you know that we Americans are all about making things more easy!

So like I said before, I have mixed feelings about going home to Egypt. And it's not just about leaving the States, but rather how in some ways that in leaving the States (as in, NOT being in the States) it will be more difficult to be back in Egypt.  Like I've said on many occasions, I do LOVE Egypt.  But after being in America for a month, it will be easy to remember all the things I'm missing out on. Luckily after a while the feeling kind of dies down, especially as I am reminded of all the things I love so much about living in Egypt.

Hence the hard part of leaving home. I'm not trying to have a pity party here, just trying to give an honest perspective on how an expat feels when they go home to their home country for a visit and then have to go back home to their country of residence.

But Egypt is our home, as in where we live. And even though I take my pillow everywhere with me, it always fits best on my own bed in Egypt. It will be nice to be in my own kitchen again, where I know where everything is and I have everything I need (well, practically everything I need which is actually available in Egypt).  It will be good to see our Egyptian family, friends and church again - and for them to see how much my son has grown in the month we have been gone. And I know that I have a sweet little lady that comes to clean several times a week (which means I don't have to) and that if I'm hungry, I can just call McDonald's to deliver me a double cheeseburger combo with a Coke and a hot fudge sundae any day of the week at just about any time of day.

So it's good to be going home as well.

No, wait, it's GREAT to be going home!

My Love Affair With Febreze

I'll let you in on a little secret.  No matter how eloquently I describe my love for Egypt and all things Egyptian, the fact of the matter is that my love for Egypt boils down to exactly two things:  #1 the ability to have anything and everything delivered in Cairo and #2 the ability to afford someone to clean my house several times a week.

Okay so I love my husband and all that jazz that comes with being married to him...

But seriously, I was thanking God with every breath tonight as I was on my hands and knees cleaning the bathroom floor that we have someone who does this for us back home.  Yes, ON MY HANDS AND KNEES!

Did I mention that my knees hurt and my back hurt and suddenly parts of my body that I didn't know existed began to ache?  All that in a matter of five minutes.  I know, I'm spoiled rotten in Egypt.

And loving every minute of it!

But it also got me thinking about how much I love Febreze.  You know back in the day when Febreze first came out with that odor eating spray that you were supposed to spray directly on the guilty item (or at least that's how I remember it), well I was the one who was spraying it all over my house, not on any particular item but straight into the air - just like we weren't supposed to do.  And I know that I must not have been the only one using it in the wrong way because they eventually came out with an air freshener too.  Smart people.

Oh so you know how Apple users are described as being fiercely loyal to the brand?  Even in the light of the recent iPhone 4 antenna fiasco, Apple users worldwide are gushing about the new iPhone, the iPad, basically all things Apple.

That's kind of how I feel about Febreze.  Except that instead of costing me hundreds of dollars, it only costs me maybe $5 at most.  I think I am definitely getting a better bang for my buck, don't you?    

Maybe I went a little overboard this time in KY regarding the Febreze issue.  I mean, I always buy Febreze whenever we come stateside, even those times when we stayed in a hotel I figured that a little Febreze would make it seem more homey.  I actually packed the rest of it in my suitcase and took it back to Egypt the last time we were here.  It's sitting right now under my bathroom sink for those really *desperate* moments where nothing but Febreze will do.

Anyhow, so I went to the store when we got here and came back with Febreze (of course), along with dryer sheets with Febreze, garbage bags with Febreze, and bathroom cleaner with Febreze.  And I kid you not, I was not in anyway planning that.  It was all about trying to make a decision between one thing and another, and regardless of the price, I went with the Febreze one every time.

As a side note, I definitely think that Febreze should hire me to think up new things to pair Febreze with.  Can you imagine if they made Febreze shower gel...or Febreze hand soap...or tissues that smelled like Febreze?

So add that to the list of reasons why I like to wander around Target (or Walmart) the moment I step off the plane in Kentucky.

And Sour Patch Kids.

And Oatmeal Squares cereal (I should tell you sometime about my obsession with cereal).

And Simply Orange orange juice...and now Simply Lemonade lemonade (I don't really understand if that's a brand or a description or both - hence the listing of orange and lemonade twice).

And...well, I won't give ALL my secrets away now.

Time to go spray some more Febreze!  I wonder what they put in this stuff.  

The Rental Car That Couldn't

Yes, MORE car drama.  Today was a lesson in Murphy's Law.  Just when I thought I had come to terms with yesterday's "almost rode off in someone else's car" fiasco, something even bigger and more dramatic happened.

Everything was fine this morning.  We got up and got ready and went off to church like any other day.  No problems with the car.

But suddenly after sitting and waiting to get out of the church parking lot for 10-15 minutes (it's a BIG church), the moment I accelerated to get out onto the main road...well, the car just putt-putt-putted.  It was fine at 10 mph but once I tried to accelerate it putted and putted in vain.  Now I am no car mechanic but I would guess that the automatic transmission failed.

This isn't the first problem I've had with this car.  Okay, well I wouldn't call it a *problem* per say but it was definitely a sign that someone wasn't maintaining the car very well.  There wasn't any windshield wiper fluid in the car.  Who knows if there was any oil in the car?  And certainly no surprise that the automatic transmission would go out...I mean, seriously, the expectations were getting pretty low here.

So what was I to do?  Luckily I was not alone on the side of the road with my 9-month-old son asleep in the backseat.  My youngest brother was there at least for moral support.  He's 14 but still...moral support.

Luckily I made the split-second decision NOT to get on the freeway and chance it to make it home.  But I also decided in that moment that instead of sitting on the side of the road that I would try to putt-putt my way down to the nearest gas station.  We get to the gas station and I tried to gather my thoughts and figure out what to do.

We were actually on our way to meet my family.  So I sit there trying to call my parents.  I call Mom...no answer.  I call Mom again...still no answer (her phone was on silent after being in church).  So I call Dad...no answer and phone is clearly off.  I call Mom again...no answer.  Hmm...

This is definitely when I moved into *mom mode*.  The only way I can describe *mom mode* is that moment when you suddenly realize that with your infant son in the backseat and 14-year-old brother in the passenger seat beside you that freaking out is not an option.  So you have to breathe deep, collect your thoughts, and solve the problem before you.  Now YOU'RE the mommy...so it's about time you act like one. 

It finally dawns on me that the people I should be calling were the rental car people.  So we get out the rental agreement and I call their 24-hour roadside assistance number.  And I have to say that it only took one hour from the first time I spoke to them for the tow truck with my new car to arrive.  So not bad considering I just had to sit for one hour at a gas station where there was no changing table in the ladies' room to change my son's diaper when he woke up from his nap in the backseat (another story...another time).

By this time we have finally gotten a hold of my parents, and they are on their way back to us.  Once they arrive, it's just a matter of switching the car seat over to their car and sending my son home with them while my dad and I waited for the new car.

All in all it was less painful than one would imagine.  I'm not sure if it was the going into *mom mode* or the "I've lived abroad in Egypt for the past 5+ years so this is NOTHING" that helped me not freak out...although having family right there to help was more likely the thing that made it easier.  I was never so glad that we were in KY as I was at that exact moment when the car just wouldn't go and I knew I could call someone to help.

Crazy thing is that they brought me the exact make and model car that died on me.  At first I was a bit relieved to see the exact same car, even down to the color.  Now sitting here I am not so sure that was such a good idea.  I feel like somehow the same thing could happen to the same car.

Just wait till tomorrow.  Maybe I'll have more car drama then.

Oh please no!

A Rental Car Crazy Moment

Today I walked out into the parking lot and almost got into the wrong car.  Yes, it looked just like the one I am renting here in KY.  Same color...same model...same car

Except for the Camels cigarettes in the door.  And the missing car seat in the back seat.

But the door opened.  And I almost sat down in the driver's seat.  I wonder now what would I have done next.

Somehow I think this is something that would only happen to me...in Kentucky.  No it wouldn't happen to me in someplace exotic like...well, Europe or maybe even Egypt.  No, it has to happen in normal old Louisville, KY.

The funny thing is that when I realized that that wasn't my car I looked over to the next row of cars in front of me.  And saw another couple walking around my car.

So now I didn't feel so stupid.  I mean, now I had people to share my stupidity with.  Now I realized that perhaps this was why the car door opened on the other car when I *pushed* the remote entry on my key.  They pushed it.  My stupid key didn't open some stranger's car door.

Whew!

So I did the only logical thing one could do in this type of situation.  I mean, seriously, this was too perfect of a moment to share by myself.  I walked right up to them and laughed, saying "I think I just did the exact same thing to your car."

It's amazing how doing something equally stupid instantly bonds people.  I stood there for several minutes with complete strangers with nothing in common except for the fact that we were driving basically the same car.  And that we had just done the same stupid thing like almost get in the other person's car.

I think I pinched myself later, thinking I had just dreamed up the incident.

But I can still see myself looking down at that box of cigarettes in the door of their car, thinking...Oh no, my key just opened up the door of someone else's car.  What if they drove off in my car? (Yes and they just HAPPENED to leave their identical make and model car in its place)

I have a feeling that for the next couple of weeks I will hesitate before I get into my car again.

Wouldn't you?

A Pet Lover in Exile

If you are a pet lover, you can only imagine the heartbreak of having to move halfway across the world...and having to leave all pets behind.

The one thing that has get gets more and more difficult about living abroad is not being able to have pets.  And though many foreigners in Egypt have dogs or cats, I consider myself a true pet lover so I refuse to subject a poor little puppy or kitty to an apartment with very little access to any kind of green space.  These smaller spaces that we have grown accustomed to in Cairo are just not enough to keep pets healthy and happy in.

So this means that when I come home to visit family, I am also coming to visit the dogs as well.

I think for most of us who had dogs and cats as pets when we were little, it can be difficult to adjust to not having the little buggers around when you move away.  I mean, where else can you get that kind of undying, devoted love?  I grew up always having pets around and somehow life seemed a little less bright when they weren't around.  I could sit for long hours reading with one hand on the book and the other hand stroking the head of one or two dogs (their heads always managed to be in just the perfect position under my hand at just the right time).  You never felt lonely with those eyes and that soft head always nearby.

And there's always that feeling when you come home to visit and the dogs remember you.  I remember back in college we had an old dog who was blind and deaf, but somehow she managed to recognize me apparently from my scent.  And in my family this was something sacred because the animals really are part of the family.

Unfortunately time passes and they do pass with time.  My family has lost several beloved pets over the past year and it is sad to come home and not find them there to greet me.

My son has apparently inherited this love of animals.  I have been amazed to see that he is completely unafraid of the dogs and other animals he has been in contact with.  In Egypt so many people are downright afraid of dogs (in particular) so I was concerned that he might have picked up this fear of dogs.  But no worries, he is just as much of a dog lover as his mother is!

I'm still trying to figure out if we can ever get a dog or cat in Egypt.  But unfortunately apartment living isn't very conducive to keeping pets happy.

So we will have to continue to keep coming to visit family as much as we can so that we can visit the dogs as well...

Or we can come visit the dogs so that we can visit the family as well...

You choose.

Help! I'm In Redneck Central

We went to the Kentucky State Fair today.  I haven't been in a large, crowded place like this in Kentucky for quite some time.  And I haven't seen so many rednecks in one place in quite some time.

Wow.  It sure brought back memories.

First there was the young guy dressed in a wife beater (basically a white sleeveless shirt), blue jeans and belt buckle the size of his head along with a pair of cowboy boots.  Must have been his fancy outfit, though, because those cowboy boys were polished up so shiny that you could see yourself in them.

Then I saw two young guys dressed in FFA blue cordoroy jackets with long gold chains dangling down into their pockets.  The FFA jackets haven't changed since I remember them, but the gold chains kind of confused me.  Were they redneck gangsta's or what?  Could something like that even exist?

There were lots and lots of flip-flops.  Not that flip-flops categorize you as a redneck necessarily, just depends on what kind of clothes you pair them with...and whether your hair is piled up so high on your head that it hits the ceiling fan.

I don't know what category this fits into, but I saw a number of people walking around with their dogs in strollers.  That's right, folks.  Here in Kentucky there are dogs apparently too precious to have to walk around on their own four feet.  And these were not the cheap umbrella-like strollers like what most of the kids were sitting in.  No, these babies were riding around in strollers complete with sunshades and screens to keep the sun and mosquitoes off of them.  My son could only dream of this kind of luxury!

I'm not sure what really classifies a person as a "redneck."  I have tried explaining this one to my Egyptian husband, and basically every time I am finished with my explanation he is still left scratching his head in confusion.  Suffice to say that redneck men are stereotyped as being dressed in a wife beater, old jeans & cowboy boots with an old ball cap on their head and beer belly sticking out from under their shirt and redneck women are stereotyped as young, barefoot and pregnant.

Jeff Foxworthy made rednecks funny and famous with his "You Might Be a Redneck If..." jokes.  I think most of his jokes come from real life situations although they often seem strange and outlandish until you take a Sunday drive out into some of the more rural parts of Kentucky.

These people really do exist.  

And you might find one by just looking in the mirror...

Read that list of 300 reasons that you might be a redneck.  You might be surprised when a few of them fall a little too close for comfort.

Or maybe that picture above of the redneck wedding cake looked a little too-good-to-be-true for you.  Especially if you could actually name all the snack cakes it was made of...

Like me.

Where the Green Grass Grows

I think it isn't until I come stateside that I realize how dull and dingy everything in Cairo is.  You have to understand that even though much of Cairo borders the Nile River that it's still basically built along a desert.  And desert means sand, lots and lots of sand.  Winter, spring, summer, and fall - regardless of the weather - there is a constant abundance of dust everywhere!  So this means that everything green in Cairo has a permanent tinge of brown to it.

And it also means that - being in the desert - that things just don't grow on their own there.  I would guess that everything green growing in Cairo was planted there.  Trees, bushes, and flowers of all kinds must be watered faithfully on a daily basis because if one waited for rain, well, that desert might just take back over the city.

So to come home to Kentucky, I am always kind of struck by how beautifully green it is here.  Some of the greenest grass I have seen here grows along the side of the highway (which, incidentally, is planted or at the very least supplemented because I just saw a truck shooting out grass seed out there yesterday).  But still really green and really pretty!

And when it rains in KY, well, the air smells clean - especially if there's any greenery (like trees or grass) nearby.  Unfortunately, the handful of times that it rains in Cairo every year produces only dirty drops of water all over everything because the air is so dirty with dust and pollution.  Yes, the air might smell a little cleaner but this lasts just a fleeting moment before the dust gets back up into the air once more.  So rain is not always such a good thing in Cairo.  But here, well, it's like the world just walked through a shower and is now all fresh and clean and new!

You know, I have yet to let my son anywhere near the grass in Cairo.  At 9 months old, he has yet to feel the cool green grass under his hands and feet.  In KY this would be a real travesty, but in Cairo this is a matter of survival!  The grass in Cairo is usually off-limits anyways and if you COULD sit on it, I'm not sure that you'd want to.

But Kentucky is the Bluegrass state where the grass is so green sometimes that it's almost blue.  So it would be a shame if we came all this way and didn't stop to enjoy the green grass.  And while once he has gotten a taste of how good the grass feels beneath his feet, he may protest when I refuse to let him wander around on the grass back in Egypt - but then again, isn't it great to have something else to look forward to when you come back to KY?

Soft green grass...bare feet...cool breeze...warm sun...

And I'm thinking...nap...hammock...cool breeze...warm sun...

That's for me, while my son gets to discover the green grass for the first time.

Confessions of a Walmart Junkie

Okay, I admit it.  One of the things I miss most about the States is Walmart.  And if I come home and can't make it to a Walmart or Target within 24 hours of arriving in the States, I go into some kind of withdrawal mode.

Well, usually I arrange it so that I HAVE to go to Walmart soon after we arrive because I refuse to bring any toiletries with me so that I have to buy them here.

Sorry, no shampoo?!  Walmart run!

What, no toothpaste?!  Walmart run!

We have often flown into Northern KY (the Cincinnati airport is on the Kentucky side of the river, people) and we usually stay in the Hyatt Place in Florence, KY.  But what my husband may not be aware of is the fact that this is also the closest hotel to the nearest Walmart to the airport there...

I am seriously addicted.

What is the draw?  Well, I think until anyone spends a significant amount of time outside the U.S. they may not realize how difficult it is to find even the simplest of items in stores abroad.  And if you CAN find what you're looking for, chances are that the price is much more expensive than what you pay for it here.  I mean, you have to figure in the shipment and customs in addition to the production price.  And that adds up quickly.

So to come home and find everything so readily available with new flavors and colors and, well, seemingly unlimited options.  Let's just say a girl can go crazy in there!

I usually stick with the basic items that I use on a daily basis.  And then I make sure I buy a kind that I can't get back home.  And then, provided I don't go overboard while we're here, I get to pack it up and take the rest home to enjoy for the next month or so.

It's my own way of spoiling myself, you see.  It's the little things that count anyways, right?

And speaking of Walmart...I think it's time for another run.

Big City Convert

Well, one thing about coming home to Kentucky is realizing how much I have gotten used to living in a big city.  Somehow I vaguely remember how big Louisville seemed to me back in the day, but now I can drive across downtown Louisville in something like 15 minutes.

Yeah.  Not quite the same as living in Cairo, a city of 20 million people...a city that really does NOT sleep (sorry New Yorkers).  Seriously, we have sat in a traffic jam in Cairo at 12 o'clock at night.

Anyhow, so to come home to Kentucky it's like - wow, it is SO quiet here.  And what is with everything closing down so early?!  I mean, doesn't EVERYONE want to go grocery shopping at 10:00 at night?!  And why do restaurants close so early...don't people still want to eat after 9:00 at night?!

We have stayed closer to downtown Louisville the past couple of times we've been here, and I must say that I can definitely feel the difference. Just tonight my son and I were out for a walk after 8:30 PM and there were still other people out walking their dogs.  And I did see another couple out walking with their baby so I didn't feel like such a crazy person taking my 9-month-old out for a stroll as it was getting dark out.

Because seriously sometimes I feel like I need some kind of sign on my forehead reading "I live in Egypt so please forgive me if what I'm doing seems a bit unorthodox."  You always have to wonder if what seems normal to you after living abroad for a number of years may look at little strange to the outside world.  Not that I worry that much about what others think about what I'm doing, because at least in the States I am basically invisible anyways and I just don't really care what they think anyways.  It is usually just a passing thought sometimes that I wonder if people can ever tell that something is different about me...

Probably not.  And besides, how many Americans do YOU know who have the time to stop and pay attention to what is going on around them?  Everybody here is so busy busy that it boggles the mind to think of how much stuff they get done in one day.  I mean, I could only DREAM of going to the store AND meeting friends for lunch AND getting my hair cut AND going shopping for clothes AND going to a soccer game AND...all in one day.

I have learned that in Egypt if I can get just one good thing done in one day that it's a good day.  I'm not saying that my life is any less busy - okay well maybe I AM saying that.  But when you're trying to get around in a city like Cairo, using taxis and getting around just takes more time.  And by the time you get to where you're going, you might as well stay there for a while because it'll take you just as long to get home.

But even though I have adjusted to living in a big city, there are times when I just wish the world would just stand still for a moment so that I can just breathe a bit.  It's not so much that I am moving so fast, it's just that there is so much going on around you.  I mean, there are people everywhere at all times.

So definitely it is nice to be able to take a walk down the street where there is not a soul in sight.  Okay, we are still pretty close to downtown Louisville so there are definitely many more people out than, say, where my parents live.  But still, the trees are bigger and the sidewalks safer and people actually use the crosswalks.  What a relief!

So maybe the big city convert is still a small-town girl at heart after all...

Expat Goin' Home

Well, even before we reached Kentucky, it was already a different world out there!  I always get this crazy urge to break out into the national anthem the moment I step off the plane into the good old US of A.  Call it homesickness sinking in…

We DID have a bit of drama during our layover in Frankfurt.  All you moms out there, you certainly know what it’s like to get off the plane and find that your stroller didn’t get off the plane with you.  Yep, you guessed it.  It’s called carrying a 19 pound baby on your arm along with the diaper bag and overloaded backpack on your back.  Suffice to say that this was not the picture I had imagined.

Enter airline help desk #1…

Me:  “Please I need to know where our stroller is.”

Them:  “Oh I’m sorry madam you have to go to [insert other office halfway across the terminal]”

Me:  “Please can’t you help me.  As you can see, I am carrying my son and all these bags and I don’t know if I can make it that far.”

Them: (totally oblivious to the pleading tone and puppy dog eyes) “I’m sorry madam I can’t do anything from here.  You have to go to [insert office halfway across the terminal – AFTER passport control and AFTER baggage claim]”

Me:  (smiling politely but really seething inside) “Thank you for your help.”

Enter airline help desk #2…

Me:  “Please I need to know where our stroller is.”

Him:  (not speaking very good English) “You…check…there.” (pointing at the 2 guys standing off to the side)

Me:  (quickly turning away when I realize he doesn’t speak English) “Thank you”

Me:  (turning to the 2 guys) “Please where is my stroller?”

Him:  (after he checks my ticket) “I’m sorry madam you have to go to that office there.”  (pointing to an office on the other side of this enormous baggage claim room)

Me: (at the point of tears now) “Where?”

Him: (sensing that a waterfall of tears is about to come) “Come with me”

Let me just tell you.  That last office was for baggage tracing.  Yep, they’re acting like my stroller was lost.  And I want to scream “it’s NOT LOST!  That really sweet friendly lady at the Cairo counter (who was apparently not as smart as she seemed) put a baggage ticket on our stroller along with a gate check ticket.   So my stroller is NOT LOST!  It’s just sitting out there with our bags waiting to be put on the plane to Chicago!”

They couldn’t get our stroller to us.  They wouldn’t even try.  And I, afraid that it would get really lost if I pushed them to try, kept my mouth shut about it.  This is one of those times where you hope the look on your face is worth a thousand words.  Maybe it’s just wishful thinking.  But in the back of my mind I can hear my husband saying “give them a break, Erin, they’re just doing their job.”  Hence the look and NOT the thousand words!

The good news is that they had a lost and found stroller that they gave us.  So I plopped my son in the stroller and off we went to check into the hotel.

When we arrived in Chicago, the good news is that our very own stroller showed up at the gate.  I think the guy was kind of shocked by how giddy I was to see it.  And then the 2^nd stroller showed up, and I had to go into the whole story to explain why I had not 1 but 2 strollers waiting for us at the gate.

And the 1^st thing I did when we got our stroller back was to rip off that stupid baggage ticket.  Probably NOT what you’re supposed to do, but I wasn’t taking any more chances.

So I learned a lesson, but luckily in the end it all worked out.

Note to self:  do not let that nice, sweet, friendly lady who is cooing over your child distract you from making sure that your bags are clearly and correctly marked (yep, we lost a bag last time) and that your stroller is not tagged like a piece of luggage.

I still hope that the guy who was working the airplane in Cairo who ignored the gate check ticket in favor of the baggage ticket will find himself one day…lugging a 19-pound child through an airport on one arm…with a diaper bag in one hand…and an overloaded backpack on his back…

Is that wrong?