This was written November 1 but then I lost the file... Good thing things find me!
Anyone who has been here before will have read my attempts to go back in time. On certain dates, it's easier to look back than others. When I remember where I was on a certain date, one or two years ago, it helps me asses what I have achieved in that year. Today, for example. On November 1 last year, I shaved all of my male co-workers at Amazon, including a senior visiting director, for Movember. That set off the best month I had at Amazon, for many reasons. The night before, I remember vividly, I was dressed up as the corpse bride to scare the children of Victoria Road with absolutely zero success. I was living a settled life, trying to spread the love I had experienced to few people at work, in my street, in my circle. It was a simple time with few things putting my brain to work. Today - yeah, a little different. I'm writing this from a plane, looking down at my former home, Cairo, as I finish what is definitely the most impulsive week of my life you and that's saying something.
Three years ago, almost exactly, I did something that was so spontaneous that I surprised myself. My boss called me and said he would fly me out to a vacation in Dubai if I could be at the airport in an hour and a half, which was close to impossible. Not for mamma, it tuned out. With nothing but a bikini and a book I rocked up at a five-star suite on the Palm and just enjoyed myself. But, you may say, who wouldn't for a free vacation? Sacrifices are easily made that way, eh? Last Thursday, it was a little different. I went to a job interview for which I had very, very little information. I knew the employer needed someone to travel with him and altogether the opportunity sounded too interesting not to at least hear out. So with almost no information, I went to the interview. I was impressed by the man I was speaking to and wanted to ask him a million questions. He allowed me one, and I asked where he was off to next. "Egypt", he said, "wanna come?" My following "yes" made him giggle. "If you're serious", he said, "meet me at my plane in two hours." There wouldn't be a story here if I had just laughed and walked out.
I'm spontaneous and love crazy, yes, but this was a new height. I asked the assistant on my way home for how long I'd be packing and she said 10 days. Before I had actual time to ponder my decision, I was on this man's jet, taking off to Cairo. I didn't know why I was there or what I'd be doing but who knows, ever? Opportunities come and go, and my biggest fear is not taking one. This way I was maximizing the chances of not regretting. To me, this didn't seem like a hard decision and yet, everyone I told was questioning my sanity. I realized that not a lot of people would have done it because uncertainty is scary to people. But what made me proudest was everyone's reaction. "This kind of stuff only happens to you", they said. Every single one of them. And I knew they were right; I'm one of these people. And I'm pretty proud of that.
So suddenly I was back in Cairo, a place I vowed not to come back to. One should never do that, lesson learned. And I always knew that was a stupid vow. Yet, as the plane came down, I started being nervous. Cairo is the place I became a grown up. It is, to this day, probably the chapter of my life that was hardest for me. And as I was considering it had been two and a half years since my departure, my achievements visualized. I thought back to this day a year ago, being a settled little corporate girl trying to make my miserable coworkers a little happier. I looked back to that day three years ago, thick-skinned after a year in Cairo. And finally, I saw this day four years ago, a girl, not woman, in Cairo trying to make a future happen. Whatever decisions I made, I thought, I did it: I grew up and made an incredible life happen. I arrived on a flipping private jet, for crying out loud. Egypt hadn't failed me; it had set the path to extraordinary. Suddenly, I loved it.
Soil that changed you becomes good soil. This country is harsh and threatened to break me sometimes. But I didn't. Quite the contrary: I came out a positive person, deeply appreciative of everything I had. I never felt home in Egypt, and yet here I was watching the life I used to live: buying snacks at the kushk, enjoying the tranquility of a Friday morning and the simplicity of a three-lane street comfortably featuring five rows of cars and one for motorcycles. Its a part of me now and for two years, it was reality. The memory of that makes the grass in Holland Park, where I run, greener, my nights out in a Soho pub surrounded by queer folk more liberating and the work I do, or will do, in the future more profound. But all of that wouldn't be there if Egypt hadn't taught me to fight, appreciate and believe.
It's not my life but I understand it now. This super different life is familiar because of the time I spent there and familiarity causes comfort. I feel connected to those who have made the same experience and can, today, look back on these two years and feel gratitude. Overwhelming gratitude. Having had the chance to learn to love something so hard to love is a great lesson. I don't love Egypt and I never will just like I will never love cucumbers, but they are still green and have a great effect on tired eyes. And for that, I can love them although they're not my taste. That's Egypt, too. And it took this quick and crazy visit to realize that. Time doesn't change most places but it changed me. The last year, the days since I left Egypt and the months since I arrived there. Sometimes a gentle reminder such as a visit can remind us how far we've come.
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| Spot the Pyramids in the center-left |
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