Back Blog : Dahab, the Sequel

My birthday this year was a big one, the big three-oh. KC asked what I wanted to do for my birthday that was special; after all, we'd gone all the way to London for his. It seemed that my first choice - ignoring the occasion entirely - wasn't going to happen, so I picked my favorite thing in the whole world.

We went scuba diving! I decided that being underwater while I turned thirty was a good plan. So I planned a trip to take us back to Dahab, where I'd had a great time diving with some friends last August. And speaking of last August, I managed, for the second time, to go diving in Dahab without the underwater camera! This time the underwater case was fine, but the camera had been struck down on the top of Mt Moses under suspicious (read: divine?) circumstances.

We stayed at the Dahab Coach House, a really splendid tiny hotel run by a wonderful Danish couple. I'd been introduced to them last fall, and I'd intended to take a trip to Dahab last Eid but ended up going to Lebanon instead. So this June was my first time staying with them, and it was really great. I wouldn't consider staying anywhere else (unless it were free, of course!).

And once again I dove with Sinai Divers Backpacker and couldn't have asked for a better experience. I even managed to get the same dive master as last time, Pritesh, who makes fun of me for being a slow diver but then points out living things that are invisible to my eye. Perfect.

We had a lovely first day's diving at Umm Sid where, among many other things, we found sailor's eyeballs (below left), lionfish, Red Sea walkmen (below right), eels (giant moray, eek!), sand divers, lovely chromodoris, and a blue-spotted ray ... and that's in addition to all the Red Sea regulars!













Thanks again to Google Images for saving the day!

We got seven dives in total, including another set of stellar dives to Canyon and Bells/Blue Hole. Canyon was a bit crowded, but it turned out to be kind of cool - all those divers made lots of bubbles, and the bubbles escape the crack in the floor (the canyon) in a curtain that rises from the edge. It's surreal, playing with the glittering silver bubbles, 20 m under the water.

I don't think I'll ever get tired of Bells/Blue Hole, which is a haunting dive. To do the entry through the Bells, we walked past a wall that has the names of all the divers who have died there. For me the best part of the dive happens after exiting the Bells, when we sweep along the outer edge of the Hole. There's absolutely no bottom, and on the left the blue stretches away into the unknown. Even though there's great sea life right in front of my nose on the wall, I find myself obsessively scanning the blue and below. I get the tingly feeling that there's something big - like a whale shark, or a thresher, or an eagle ray (which I did see once) - just out of sight.

The best/terrifying part of this dive is when we put our backs to the wall and swim out in the blue. It means being super careful, keeping one eye always on my depth gauge, but it's completely thrilling, being surrounded by absolutely nothing. I've done this dive three times now, and I've never felt unsafe or like I was doing something risky. I am not a risky diver. No way.

As we were crossing the saddle of the wall to get into the Blue Hole proper, I saw a big fish that I couldn't identify. I hovered right on the crest, straining my eyes. Was it a napoleon? That'd be a first for me. Pritesh had already dropped over the saddle, and KC was hovering with me, looking in the same direction. I decided to go get Pritesh so after the dive he could identify the fish for me. I signaled to him to come back, and when he arrived I turned to point out my mystery fish. And then to my intense surprise, I spotted a turtle! At the dive's end, KC told me that the turtle had been there all along and that's what he'd thought I was pointing at. Nope! I was the last one to see it, even though I was the one who stopped in the first place. Typical.

We were also lucky enough to do a few dives with a marine biologist from the Red Sea Environmental Center. She was a bit less focused on guiding than Pritesh - it was more like the three of us were just diving together - but it was fun having a fellow biologist with us. In fact, Pritesh talked us into doing a fluorescence night dive with her.

KC and I aren't really night divers. We'd tried it for the first time in Sharm, and we thought it was good but not great - not really worth too much effort. But the fluorescence angle sounded intriguing, and Pritest was really excited about it, so we thought we'd give it a go.

The evening started with a pre-dive briefing on fluorescence and fluorescence in biological organisms. We felt a little guilty because it quickly became obvious that we were ringers. KC ended up giving the "fluorescence" part of the briefing, and I gave the "fluorescent proteins in biological organisms" part of the briefing. Is it our fault that we actually work with these things for a living? We found ourselves a little skeptical about some of the ideas the biologist threw out there - we're not convinced that these things are used for communication at 20 meters. Just doesn't make sense. But eventually it was time to suit up with our special gear - blue wavelength flashlights (for excitation of the fluorescent creatures) and a yellow filter for our masks (to be able to see the fluorescence more clearly).













We stayed in about 3-4 meters of water the whole time. It was amazing, the first time I trained my flashlight on an ordinary-looking coral and it blazed green! We crept along the bottom and came to a small reef, where we moved an inch at a time, trying to find things that glowed. My favorite was the anemone crab (above right), which smolders a fluorescent red when you hit it with the blue light. We also discovered that scorpionfish fluoresce yellow - we didn't find too many fish that did glow, although lots of the coral did. I was having a reasonably good time until I turned my face over my shoulder - and found a (poisonous) lionfish within two inches of my nose. The lionfish are attracted to the lights, and even though our only white lights were with the DMs, I was surrounded. I enjoyed myself a bit less after that; I was uncomfortable knowing that the animals could see me but I couldn't see them. All in all, I'm glad I did the dive, but I don't know that I'll rush to do it again.

At the end of the Dahab trip, we arranged to go to St Catherine's, so KC could see the monastery and climb the mountain. This was a return trip for me, and within only a few weeks! Originally we'd planned to climb the mountain at dawn, but we were so tired from diving that we decided to hit the mountain at 6 am, just around sunrise. It was a two-hour drive from Dahab to St Catherine's, and we couldn't bear the thought of getting up at midnight to start our day.

And boy did we make the right decision, because to my shock, the valley was deserted at 6 am. When I'd arrived to make my last climb, the place was crawling with busloads of ill-dressed tourists and swarming with security guards and beduin "guides." The rule, of course, is that you must hire a beduin guide if you want to go up the mountain. This time, KC and I encountered a single snoozing security guard next to the metal detector. We tiptoed around him and dashed up the path, trying to get as far up the path as possible before we were found out and stuck with a surly guide.

But that moment never came, and we had a splendid climb. It wasn't really that hot while we climbed, and we didn't freeze at the summit. We were alone - truly alone - for something like 90% of our climb. No camel hawkers, no Russian tourists, no pilgrims. Nothing. The kiosks were either closed or deserted. Everyone was up ahead of us. We passed a few people on their way back down the camel path at first, but we'd missed the rush entirely. At the summit there was a group of about 10 Greeks - an amazing contrast to the hundreds of people I'd shared the sunrise with a few weeks earlier. And we came down the Stairs of Repentence completely alone, which was stunning. I'll post some pictures here when we've got them downloaded.

Bottom line: watch the sunrise on your way up Mt Moses. You'll have a better chance of finding the peace and serenity that has drawn people there for hundreds of years.

We spent about an hour and a half at the monastery after our climb, seeing the icons and the museum, the ossuary and the church. And then we made the long drive back to Sharm for the short flight back to Cairo.

But that's not the end of the story, of course! Our 50 minute flight was delayed for an hour in Sharm, and we spent another hour at the new terminal in Cairo trying to avoid being bled dry by taxi sharks. Cairenes, take note - either have City Cab or the university pick you up. It's not worth the hassle of trying to arrange your own transport from the new terminal.

Dahab: two thumbs up. St Catherine's in the late morning: five stars. Terminal three: gaaah.

Leave one out

This story is so bizarre, I'll start with the end of the tale first:

So we went to the office, spoke with an agent, signed a form with the manager, got a full refund in cash, and left within 15 minutes.

Right. Now that you've heard the end, let me back up.

Back in May I alluded to a "hair-raising adventure" with EgyptAir. But things didn't even start in May - I started working on our trip to Abu Simbel back at the beginning of April.

Bottom line, KC and I wanted to see Abu Simbel before leaving Egypt. The Abu Simbel site is a set of two temples built by Ramesses II in the far south of Egypt. In fact, the temples are located so far south that when the Aswan High Dam was built in the late 1960s, the resulting Lake Nasser would have submerged the temples.

Eventually, someone figured this out - that building the dam (which may or may not have been an ecological catastrophe) would endanger literally dozens of pharonic sites in Upper Egypt. I need to do some more reading about this, because it's quite a remarkable story. The Egyptian government and UNESCO got help from institutions around the world to actually move the two temples at Abu Simbel (and some other sites too, like Philae) to higher ground.


Ever wonder why there's a complete Egyptian temple inside the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City? It was a "thank you" gift to the museum for working on the UNESCO project. Thanks for your help - here, have a temple. We were going to wreck this one anyway.

On the other hand, diving these things would be fantastic ... but I digress.

We wanted to go to Abu Simbel. I had enough EgyptAir frequent flier miles to get one free ticket to Abu Simbel, and it seemed a good use because generally that's an expensive ticket. I called the EgyptAir hotline and got put through to the rewards desk. I explained to the helpful woman that I wanted one reward ticket and one regular ticket to Abu Simbel on a particular day in June. She typed a bit, and then gave me the reservation number and told me to go down to the EgyptAir office and pay the taxes on the tickets.

"The reservation is confirmed?" I asked.
"Yes madam, no problem."
"The ticket has been issued?"
"Yes madam, just go pay the fee."
"You're absolutely sure this reservation is ready? Because I don't want to go all the way down there and find out I don't have a ticket."
"Don't worry madam, you have a ticket."

So of course I went to the Adly Street EgyptAir office and - brace yourselves - of course there were no damned tickets. I'd walked into the office and saw a desk with about 30 representatives, and there were no other customers (shockingly). An agent waved me over to his desk. When I saw his face, I said, "Oh, I remember you! You used to be in the Tahrir Office!" And to my complete and utter surprise, he responded, "Yes Dr. Tiffany, I remember you."

I almost passed out. This guy had seen me once in January and he remembered my name. That type of thing would never happen in the US. If you're in the Adly Street EgyptAir office (over near Midan Opera) look for the guy with the round glasses and thin bristly mustache. He's the one you want.

Anyway, I freaked out at this guy for a few minutes, and then settled down to business. He's a great agent - smart as hell and efficient. Eventually he constructed a delicate series of reservations for our trip, but unfortunately both seats were waitlisted. I was told to keep checking the waitlist on the airline website and to come to the office when the seats came through.

Three weeks later, the reservation for the two tickets was still waitlisted. I figured enough was enough - EgyptAir was offering a fare of LE 837 (USD $150) round-trip including taxes. I went back to the office to just pay for the tickets. Imagine my surprise when a new agent told me that the reservation I'd made was only in my name - KC's ticket didn't exist.

This precipitated an hour-long argument, and I'll gloss over the details. The most frustrating aspect was telling the guy that not an hour before EgyptAir's website had listed KC's ticket. The agent responded that that wasn't true because his system didn't have it. Fine, I said, open up the internet and I'll show you.

Apparently this was akin to suggesting that we sacrifice his firstborn son. The agent protested that he couldn't possibly do that. I pointed to the Internet Explorer icon on his desktop and said, "Click on it." Back and forth, back and forth, and finally a manager came over.

Eventually I realized the stupidity and futility of my efforts. I asked the manager to cancel that reservation and make a new reservation, which I'd pay for in cash. 10 minutes later all was settled and I walked out the door with my paid, confirmed tickets.

Or so I thought. [cue ominous music]

This past Saturday we dragged ourselves out of bed at 4 in the morning, tossed a few things in the backpack, and headed for the airport. After our airport taxi catastrophe on the way back from Dahab, I'd called City Cab to arrange for transport both ways from the airport in a metered taxi. We got to the airport around 5 am ... and that's when all hell broke loose.

The security guard looked at our itinerary before letting us through the security checkpoint BEFORE the area where you can actually check in. This is normal in Egypt. What was not normal was his refusal to let us pass, and his claim that the flight didn't exist. He directed us over to the EgyptAir ticket counter.

The guy at the ticket counter said this wasn't his job and sent us over to Customer Service.

The guy at Customer Service said this wasn't his job and sent us over to the ticket counter.

This is where things started to get ugly.

We told the customer service guy that we'd been sent to him by the ticket guy. He walked with us over to the ticket counter and lit into the ticket guy, screeching at him in Arabic. Finally it was determined that yes, dealing with ticket issues is in fact the job of the guy at the ticket counter.

We found out that our 6:00 am flight had been cancelled and we'd been put on the 8:45 am flight instead, which would get us to Abu Simbel at 11:30 am - with a return flight departing at 2:15 pm.

Of course, this was completely preposterous. We were tired and really, really angry at this point.

So the recriminations began. We were incensed that EgyptAir had made no effort to contact us before we arrived at the airport on the morning of our flight. The agent claimed that we had given EgyptAir no phone number to contact us. I pointed out how absurd this was, since EgyptAir had been calling me on my mobile phone for 2 years. They even called to tell me when the Tahrir office closed! The agent told me I was lying and I'd never given them my mobile number. There was a lot more shouting at that point.

At some point through my red haze of fury I realized that KC was doing something very clever. He was basically running through a checklist of things that airlines (in the US at least) can't do when they cancel your flight. For example, he asked if our flight had been "cancelled" or "rescheduled." The agent said "cancelled" (not good for the airline). KC asked for a copy of the cancellation policy of the airline. The agent refused to give us one (really, really not good).

The agent scored his only point when he demanded, "What do you want me to do?" Because of course, what we wanted him to do was to schedule a plane just for us, leaving at that exact moment. We found this much funnier later.

We decided that we just wanted our money back. The agent refused, saying we had to go to the office that had issued the ticket. OK, we returned, give us a piece of paper showing that we'd actually gone all the way to the airport before figuring out we were screwed. The guy handed me a blank piece of paper with the words "EgyptAir" printed on them. I gave him my most pissed-off withering glare of derision and he went in the back and printed out an itinerary that had the airport office letterhead.

And then we had to find a taxi to get home. We managed to find a different metered taxi, but the police prohibit the drivers from picking up passengers in front of the terminal (you figure this one out - for the fixed fare scam?) so we walked down the ramp toward the highway with the taxi following us until we were out of sight of the police.

Yesterday we went to the EgyptAir office to get our refund. We girded ourselves mentally - we prepared our extensive set of documentation - we worked out the good cop/bad cop routine - and we ticked off our set of arguing points. We were called up to the desk - and our agent was the "new" agent who'd told me in May that KC's ticket didn't exist.

"Do you remember me?" I asked him.

"Yes - Abu Simbel frequent flier. How was your trip?"

[beat]

"Actually, that's why we're here. We got to the airport and found out EgyptAir had cancelled our flight. We'd like a refund. Here's our original itinerary."

"Please wait here, I'll be right back."

The agent stepped away and we settled into our chairs. He was gone for about 10 minutes, walking here and there through the office. Finally he came back and said simply, "Come with me."

We were ushered into a manager's office behind the ticket counter. I thought they were bringing us back there to bludgeon us to death for asking for a refund. Instead the manager came around the desk, shook our hands, and boomed, "Congratulations!"

For what? we thought. Being the first EgyptAir customers to get a refund? We stared at him blankly.

"Congratulations on your country!" He beamed at us.

We thought, Great. What have we done now?

"Congratulations on your football! America very good!!"

Ah. America had just beaten Egypt in some big soccer game. Of course this was just about the furthest thing from our minds at this point.

We signed a paper and were sent to the cashier's desk. We showed photocopies of our passport - and 3 minutes later we were handed LE 1674.

To repeat how I began this long sordid tale:

So we went to the office, spoke with an agent, signed a form with the manager, got a full refund in cash, and left within 15 minutes.

I was convinced I was having a coma dream. This last trip to the EgyptAir office is by far the weirdest thing that has happened to me in this country.

And now we have to come back to Egypt - because we haven't seen Abu Simbel.

Last Day at the Khan

The past few days have been filled with too many lasts - or lasts for now - for me to want to risk a tearful gooey blogpost slide into nostalgia.

This morning we said goodbye to our washing machine, which moved up the street to a friend's place. To be specific, the guys from the university showed up, disconnected my washing machine, moved it out of my flat ... and then dumped the machine outside my friend's flat and left. Without ringing the bell, let alone actually installing the machine. For some strange reason in Cairo the washing machines don't belong to the flat but to the tenant.

We tied up a few loose ends in Garden City, then headed to the EgyptAir office to deal with our aborted trip to Abu Simbel. More on this later - because our episode today was, by far, the strangest experience I've had in Egypt.

And if you've been following this blog, you know that means a lot.

Then we made our final pilgrimage to Islamic Cairo. First we headed back to Tentmaker's Bazaar to say goodbye to our friends there. In two years I've really come to value the Egyptian concept of shopping and shopkeeping. I've been buying from Mr Magdy (in the covered part of the bazaar) and Mr Ayman (just past the bazaar) for two years - and taking my friends to them. After about 6 months of this, I realized that both these gentlemen acted mortally offended if I passed by their shop without dropping in for a cup of tea and a chat. Even if I wasn't interested in buying, I was welcome in their store. I don't think I ever spent less than 20 minutes with either one of them, even if I didn't spend a cent.


So how much can two people buy in 30 minutes at Mr Ayman's store? Today: 19 scarves, 5 bags, and 2 big applique wall hangings. I'm especially pleased by the one up above, an unusual applique with a fish / Red Sea motif. Mr Ayman does great work; I frequently see new patterns in his store before any of the others in the bazaar, and usually a few weeks later I see them everywhere.

I'm not usually into these pictorial pieces; I prefer the calligraphy and abstract works. But I saw this fishy scene and knew I had to have it. Fortunately KC agreed, and we went ahead with our rather staggering purchase. In the end the damage came to LE 1000 (USD $178.60), and no matter how hard KC haggled, we couldn't budge Mr Ayman any further (although he did give us an extra bag of our choice).


We managed to talk our way into the fantastic Qalawun complex over in Palace Walk, precipitating a massive fight between the caretaker and a nearby policeman. Some baksheesh to both parties got us out of there in one piece, but it was a bit strange. The caretaker really really did not want us there, even though we were willing to pay and the site is technically open. Why would you spend so much money restoring a monument and then forbid anyone to see it?

Along the same lines, why would you have UNESCO and your government spend millions of dollars to save the temples at Abu Simbel and then arrange the flights so people can only spend an hour in the temples?

Ah, the mysteries of Egypt.

And Mr Ayman's deets:
Stitched Like an Egyptian
Ayman Molokhya
Original Appllique [sic] Art Work
18 El Khiamia st., Babziwela - Cairo
Mob: 012 100 6756
molokyaoneonly@yahoo.com

Final answer

This is the voice of KC, the quiet half of the Americans in Cairo. Tiffany asks me why I don’t post more to this blog, and the answer is that I rarely feel like I have that much to share. That may sound a bit silly, since I too spent the last year rebooting my life over on the Left Coast with a healthy dollop of scars and bruises to show for it. However, when I Skype with Tiffany or read her blog posts, I often reflect to myself that the ups and downs of my life in California are more run-of-the-mill and predictable than those of Egypt. The incidence of (in no particular order of importance) shouting, camels, shouting at camels, being shouted at by camels, and cancelled flights (see other blog posts) is far higher… and far more likely to cause someone to get hurt. I just hope it’s not us.

We’re currently driving back from the new campus, and as a case in point, I just saw some dude sweeping the sand off the highway. In the grand universal scheme of things, I think that’s on par with digging holes just to fill them in again – except that the holes are in the middle of a firing range, and the guns are firing ultra-deadly “Egyptian Driver” bullets.

In a strange bookend to our two-year love affair with Egypt, Tiff and I trundled around the New Campus today, her for the last time, I for the first. Quite frankly, I was astonished at the progress since we arrived in Cairo two years ago, and in many ways, anyone involved can and should be very proud of the accomplishment. Tiff asked me what I would miss most about Egypt, and my response was the opportunity to be freshly amazed every day that I walk around the city. However, I wonder how long it takes for that feeling to dull into a sense of complacency about your surrounds, and whether one truly finds happiness in that familiarity.


Tiffany will experience much the same thing, I imagine, once she arrives back on American soil. We’re going to have to do something about the yelling, but I think she can be placated by a great draft beer, and a heaping plate of bacon-wrapped bacon. I’m glad we’re relocating to somewhere that should be equally absorbing to explore, but I can feel a poignant sense of loss everytime Tiffany goes somewhere for the last time, or says goodbye to a friend or colleague that has enveloped her life here for the past two years. Yesterday, Tiffany started to feel sick, and today she has a bit of a fever. On top of that, she burned her hand and got electrocuted. This country has managed to get in a few licks, but I’m hopeful that we’ll both end up wanting a little bit more as we fly over Giza one last time.

Pithy Egypt

Back from Dahab and gearing up for a grueling last few days in Egypt! More on all these things later, I hope, but first ...

I thought I'd share another NYT article about how Cairenes find peace in this crazy city.

I feel like Cairo is always balanced on the knife-edge of nonchaos. At any given moment, the whole thing could go careening into madness ... and yet, somehow, it doesn't. Every day.

Case in point, last night we flew into the new terminal at Cairo Airport. Terminal 3 itself is quite nice overall - it actually looks like a modern terminal in a developed nation. Even the airport website seems to be in good shape.

Our catastrophe happened when we tried to get a taxi home. Normally I reserve a car from the university, but with the flu-mediated university shutdown I wasn't able to make the booking. In an effort to be helpful (warning warning warning!!!) the government claimed to have standardized taxi fares.

Yeah, right. All they've done is given free rein to the taxi sharks to try to fleece tourists. Some of these drivers had the gall to ask for LE 100 to Garden City and LE 70 to Heliopolis (the airport is in Heliopolis!). For the university car, I pay LE 60 (that's for a private, air-conditioned smoke-free car with seatbelts and a driver who carries my bag). The airport has standardized fares to LE 80 to Garden City. The "shuttle" is actually a private car company that has the word "shuttle" in its name (we discovered this about 35 minutes into our taxi search). Going downstairs to departures to look for empty taxis wasn't any better. And we never have been able to find the 2 pound downtown bus.

After almost an hour we found one of the new metered white cabs who was willing to take us to Garden City. We experienced the usual amount of traffic - and when we arrived home, the meter read LE 33.50. That's right. 34 pounds from the airport to Garden City. We were so pleased, we gave the guy 40 pounds and took his phone number.

Summary: Egyptian government tries to make things better, instead makes a bad situation worse.

What was I talking about? Oh, yes, the article. Here are my favorite bits:

...In a difficult environment, Egyptians know how to make do.

They know how to ignore what they cannot change and improvise where they can. They drive the wrong way down one-way streets, are blind to traffic lights, never voluntarily wait in line and regularly circumvent a government bureaucracy that is less than user-friendly. They are not trying to be rude; they are just fighting to get by.

Technically, setting up on a bridge is illegal. But this is Egypt. Who cares about technicalities?

Indeed. I guess that just about sums it up, doesn't it?

... “It’s calm, it’s not crowded, and there is clean air,” her mother said. Her younger brother, Muhammad, 11, said he liked it on the bridge “because this is where the car accidents happen.”

Summary: Egyptian system bad. Egyptian people good. Very good. Except for little Muhammed the accident-lover.

I'm glad to know there are things that I'll be missing about living here.

To split infinitives

Tonight I decided to watch the new Star Trek movie. Not because I'm a Star Trek fan - or because I've ever seen a Star Trek movie - or more than 2 episodes of the original series - but because I need to return a DVD and my parents just saw this movie.

All in all, I thought the movie was surprisingly fast-paced ... basing my expectations on no sort of prior knowledge, of course. It did ... go on a bit, but overall I think I enjoyed it.

I'll break my random thoughts down into a few categories:

Things that were not quite the movie's fault:

• Something seemed to be wrong with the resolution on my copy; everyone's heads were cut off right at eyebrow level. While disconcerting, this doesn't actually detract from following the details of the movie.
• Prequels drive me crazy when the writers assume I know who all these people are and why every word that comes out of their mouths is significant.
• Ditto the inside jokes. I can tell when I'm supposed to get it, even when I don't.
• What is up with Nimoy's teeth??
  

Random things I enjoyed:

• It's always good to see Harold.
• I'm glad to know that when I hold a high-powered, fast-paced position in a space agency, my miniskirt will always be pressed and I'll have time to apply my fake eyelashes.
• All joking aside, at least Chiquita wasn't running around in high heels. Knee-high boots, yes, but they were flats.
• Scottish accent. Hilarious.

Things I don't get:

• Why was Spock's mom wearing a hijab through the whole film?
• Is it really that hard to memorize the formula for the volume of a sphere?
• Why is it that the bad guys never say, "Hey wait, we're wearing these long leather coats with stand up collars, and our ship is unnecessarily black and spiky - we're the heroes here, right?"
• Where are all the brown folks? I see white, black, yellow, but no brownies (not to mention those craaaaaazy redskins). Hell, they even had a green chick in this movie - so where's the Indian guy, his Arab buddy, and the Native American girlfriend?
  
• Sorry, I must've dozed off - can anyone remind me why half-breeds shouldn't exist?
  

Lines I look forward to using in daily life:

• "Damn it man, I'm a doctor, not a physicist!" (Only works in Egypt, I think.)
• "I should have killed you when I had the chance!" (If I had a dollar for every time I've wanted to say this ....)
• "It never occurred to me that space was moving!" (Good thing I'm not teaching cosmology anymore.)
  

Hysteria update

I just received this message from the US Embassy:

This Warden Message alerts U.S. citizens to the latest information regarding human cases of 2009-H1N1 Influenza. The Egyptian Ministry of Health has reported eight confirmed cases of H1N1 virus in Egypt. Seven of these cases are students from the American University in Cairo, all resident in AUC’s downtown Zamalek dormitory. AUC has suspended classes and campus activities through Sunday morning, June 14, 2009, and all residents of the Zamalek dormitory are currently in quarantine, are being tested, and will remain under observation for one week. Cairo airport has also instituted new health screening procedures and they can be found at http://egypt.usembassy.gov/consular/pa060809.htm

Yowza. So my not-to-be-trusted source was correct; the poor blokes in the hostel are under lock and key for a week!

I am so glad I live in Garden City ... thank heaven for small miracles. At least for me - not for my less fortunate friends!

You can read the University's official news release here, if you're interested.

Oh, and I received an invitation to a "swine flu soiree" later this week. Gallows humor - but at least I have the choice of attending!