The Rest of Dahab till School Began...

Alright, so the camel trip over all was...an experience. As we began to reach our drop off my bathing suit decided it was the appropriate time to break, which was ironically in tandem with a Bedouin boy smacking the hell out of Dinky. Between gravity and the plank of wood that had been jetting out of my saddle the entire ride, I wanted off. The Bedouin kid grabbed Dinky's reins and with a few quick clicks he was down for the count and I was ‘outta there. Well, I thought I was. You see the minute I jumped off poor Dink'y hump I barely had enough time to get my backpack before the kid was in my face demanding "GIVE ME MONEY!". I was shocked. Yassir, the "king" of Dahab had told us that Bedouin never ask for money but quietly wait for bakshish (a tip). I was in such shock that it took a camel walking into me for me to realize I was actually handing the kid 10LE. I dragged my flip flops the entire way back over the mountain range and back into the sardine can exhausted and not in the least excited to be hip to hip with the rest of my camel smelling colleagues. We had come a long way from singing the oldies in just a mere 10 hours. The minute we got back to the lodge I told myself I was going to take a shower...after I sat down in the air conditioning for a bit.

When I awoke from death it was around 9 pm and the group had all washed up and was waiting for me to start our night out on the town. We walked along the boardwalk behind our hotel and decided that Dahab must really suffer until tourist season comes along since every single restaurant owner takes it upon himself to hire at least three lackeys to stand outside the restaurant regurgitating lines that could only have been taken from Aladdin. "You all American...*cue music to the tune of Ali of Babwa* come with me and you'll all be at a nice party, bring your guests and you can bet it's a sight to see..." Ok, so maybe it wasn't quite like that but that's all I could see as we walked past cafe after cafe all on the beach with the same menu and floor pillows. *sigh* If only there had been cuddly fez wearing monkeys...

After ignoring about twenty of these guys we decided on a restaurant recommended in Lonely Planet called the Jasmine Pension. Everyone was dozing off at the table when out of the blue who happens to show up at our table but little Miss Bitey from the Blue Hole and the Bedouin tent. Every single jaw dropped. She took advantage of our vulnerable states and went straight into it, "You buy now! You buy from me! Look!" As she shoved yet another plastic bag full of Chinese made bracelets into our faces someone finally spoke up and told her this had gone far enough. Ignoring him she continued as we fruitlessly tried telling her we had already bought plenty and she was getting out of hand. Nada. Nothing. In the end it took the restaurant owner shooing her away for her to leave and retreat to a back table with some other girls. The scene reminded me a lot of other restaurants where they provide spray bottles filled with water to scare away the millions of local cats.

We had been up for almost forty-eight hours straight at this point and were getting slightly tired of each other’s company so we all decided to call it a night. The next morning we all woke up early, had a pleasant Egyptian breakfast (where I tried fig jam for the first time and LOVED it) and headed out to Yassir's other hotel to use the pool. Though we were all perfectly capable of walking, Yassir insisted on hailing us a "taxi" and driving us the 30 yards to the pool where we swam, sun bathed and got $20 hour long full body massages. It was blissful.

After a windy outdoor dinner by the sea we all decided we wanted a real night on the town. Now, for those who are reading that have somewhat distant memories of their twenties, let me explain a twenty-something American college student mindset...they wanted to drink and drink a lot. One problem, alcohol is forbidden in Islam. Yes they had the occasional Stella hanging around and a Heineken for $7 if that is what you're looking for, but liquor is another story. What can be found is local Egyptian rum and clear whisky. Student rumors say that if your goal is to go blind, this is the stuff for you. The night progressed from drinking games (in which Yassir joined in) to checking out the local bars frequented by scuba instructors. After hanging at the Yota Bar for a while, I started to get bored and checked my email on my incredible new I-touch (thanks Mom and Aba). The minute I saw the email from Daniel's mother with the words "OCS pictures" in the subject, I booked it out of the bar to find the closest Internet cafe. Of course, being the responsible adult that I am, I left the most sober person standing in charge of getting everyone else back to the hotel in one piece. About 1 ½ hours and two internet cafes later (the first internet cafe's internet didn't work) I got back to the lodge to find a gaggle of happily drunk friends speaking horrible Arabic at one another about our friend's luck with older women. In all, we had a wonderful night's sleep.

Yassir had been unhappy when we told him about our lovely bus ride to Dahab, so he had generously offered to hire us a private van to take us back to Cairo for a mere 110LE each. We all knew we were getting ripped off and that, in total, Yassir had probably made something around $150 off each of us since we had been in Dahab but none of us were in the mood to argue. So after one final picture we all loaded up around 8:30 AM to make our way back to Cairo to actually begin school. As we all settled down in our own little private bus, we were all pretty smug with ourselves thinking this ride would be 10x more comfortable and 10x shorter than the first. The minute we passed the first checkpoint was only comparable to a pure bred bursting out of the gates in the Kentucky derby. No matter that the majority of the roads we were taking made you feel like jackhammers were riddling the bus and large pot-holes/boulders threw me a foot out of my seat, our driver was calm as ever humming 80's music and keeping the pedal to the metal.

After about 2 ½ hours we stopped at a rest stop resembling something from a you-tube video...unreal. I also can't seem to figure out why the only snack foods in this country are either some sort of chocolate or kind of chips (let alone the fact that every package is covered in 7 years worth of dust). Anyways, after another episode with the porcelain hole in the ground and more bakshish (tip) to the kid outside for giving me some forbidden toilet paper, I was able to sit and relax for a few before taking off in our rocket propelled bumper car again. Back in the van our friend Kevin told the rest of us that he had struck up a conversation at the rest stop with a man named Osama. It seemed that Osama had a brother in NY and had gone to the American embassy to request a visa in order to visit him. When the man at the embassy requested Osama's name, Osama obviously/quickly replied "Osama" and was just as quickly given a big red stamp and rejected a visa. After this many a political conversation were sparked and lasted till we reached Cairo 2 1/2 hours later. I now know to keep my opinions to myself.

When we got back everyone began the "running of the email" to their rooms for the long awaited opportunity to hear back from loved ones and find out Obama was the democratic nominee....WHAT?!?! It is kind of sad that the addiction of my generation isn't to something sexy like the Beatles, but to the nerdiest of all things...the Internet. We had been fiending for four days. Upon return none of us spoke for about 12 hours.

After we all got a good computer/internet fix three friends and I decided to take the big journey a few blocks past the comfort zone we had created for ourselves around the dorm. We had all become keenly aware of how much we were spending on food so we decided to try our luck at grocery shopping. The closest "grocery store" to us is a little place called Metro Mart in the basement of a decrepit building on one of Zamalek's (the island I live on) nastier streets. Inside we all picked up some peanut butter, bread and jam along with some interesting looking snack bars and cereal...again only and all carbs are prevalent in Egypt. I had wanted to invest in some yogurt, fruit and milk but we hadn't bought a fridge, the fruit has all been washed with the water here and the milk isn't pasteurized and therefore has no need to be refrigerated and is served warm. For all these reasons I've only been eating PB&Js every day since I've been here (this later lead to a debate between Daniel and I on who got the shorter end of the bad food stick, Egypt v. OCS).

After our grocery adventure we were in search for a true Egyptian restaurant and ended up settling for a place called Arabica Cafe. Covered in the usual faux Italian/American cuisine, I opted for their version of primavera. The waiter asked me quickly if I would like cheese on my pasta, to which I said yes, but before I could ask which kind he was offering he was off, back into the kitchen. 10 minutes later the food was out, steaming and looked more appetizing than expected. I was starving. As I was poised to gobble up my first bite the waiter comes and takes the pasta just as my fork was about to make wonderful contact with my mouth. I realized he had forgotten the cheese and I tried yelling back to him that it didn't matter and that I just wanted my hostaged food back, but to no avail. When the pasta was brought back it had been molested with globs of mozzarella, as in the kind of mozzarella you buy in a bag from the grocery story to make "pizza" when you're 6. I shrugged and continued the meal silently picking around what I considered to be a horrible affront to Italian cooking. When the check arrived I threw in my 12 LE and was turning to leave when Summer caught me and said I hadn't paid for my whole meal. "What, I paid for my pasta and I brought my own water." "But you didn't pay for the cheese." she said slightly smiling. When I looked down at the bill I couldn't believe it...they had charged my 8 LE for the damned mozzarella. Alright, I know what you all are thinking "It's just a buck and a half no biggie Natalie, you're being ridiculous." Let me put this in perspective for you. In Cairo I can get four 1 1/2 liter bottles of water for 8LE...now is grocery store mozzarella really, I mean really, even in the same league as four 1 1/2 liter bottles of water...I think not, but I paid it, so I must be mistaken.

We got to bed early that night, like good first graders, in preparation for our first day of school. Well, actually, we got to bed early because we had all skipped orientation and none of us actually knew when classes began. The rumor around the courtyard was classes started at 11:30 since the lecture for the morning had been canceled. We went with it and, luckily, we were right.