The Flights

Well my trip has officially began! After eating my final dinner of sushi in the States with Alex, Brenda, Lexi, and Ellie. I took in no more then four hours of sleep at the guest house before loading my bags into the car and heading to the airport. A drowsy drive gave way to full conciseness and excitement at the airport as I tried to navigate all the lines and security checks each feeling like one tiny mission accomplished. It was really hard to say goodbye to Alex knowing that I wouldn't see her until the end of December but I know that it was even harder for her, having two weeks to think about it before she heads off on her own adventure to France. So, I gave her my phone, took of half my clothes to get through security and realized that I had no idea when I'd talk to someone I knew again. Unfortunately, PDX is a rather uneventful way to begin any adventure. The bathroom smelt like vomit, I suppose another traveler even warier than myself, and other then that the cinnabun seemed to be the most important landmark.

The airlines must group people according to final destination or something because on my flight from Portland to Chicago I was completely surrounded by Arabs. I sat next to a American University of Cairo student and a very old Lebanese women who spoke a little English which I could barely understand and a lot of Arabic which I could also barely understand... so needless to say or conversations were limited. From what I gathered she came from Zahle in central Lebanon and was returning to see her family. She tried nearly the whole flight to explain to the stewardess that she wanted to be the first person off the plane, although we were three rows from the back. She was also quite disturbed about all the crying babies and said something along the lines of, "a little valium wouldn't hurt them" no joke. As it turns out all airports are equally boring and aside from O'hare's cool Tronish underground walkway it was no different. I spent two hours sitting by myself, eating Quiznos, and listening to some nineteen year GIs talk about how slutty each others girlfriends were being in their absence.

Once again on the flight to Frankfurt I sat next to an American University of Cairo student who gave me some valuable advice about navigating the city and all of Egypt. However, this time I also had the privilege of sitting next to a rather large and talkative Finnish man who insisted I end the silly business of learning Arabic and become a physician like him. However, he was light on the details why... but alas maybe he was right, I don't know. Although, I think he was a little drunk because unlike flights in the US, European airlines really like to pour on the booze. They started with a glass of wine or beer, followed by another, then dinner and a drink, and finally ended with brandy before turning off the light and strangely enough putting on Bugs Bunny cartoons in order to force all nagging and anxious passengers to sleep. I woke in Germany with a slight headache.

Arriving in Frankfurt at 7:30 AM was weird because my body was telling me its 11 PM and you've just awoke from a ridiculously long nap. This was helped by the fact that European airports are strangely enough, quite different from those in the States. It was constructed appropriately of drab grey tones and marble fulfilling my preconceptions of post modern Germany. But what really caught me off guard was the level of security. I was scanned as I went to shopping and eating area, again when I returned to the general terminal area, and once more at my specific gate. A large bald man made me drink the entire contents of my water bottle and refused to let me pour it out saying only, "now, now".... and "now." I thought for the time that this was simply my first encounter with a language barrier, however, if it was he has been the only person on my entire trip that only knows one english word. As I wondered looking for something to eat I had to ask myself does it really feel like 7 AM or do I want a burger and beer? Luckily, the Germans answered that for me because the only non-McCafeish restaurant was a place called "Geothe" which served a breakfast of brauts, potatoes, and sauerkraut. So, while the German guy next to me had breakfast I had dinner. I was weirded out by this at the time, but looking back this was going to be my last truly normal meal for awhile.

The flight to Cairo was surprisingly empty. I shared a row for four with one other Egyptian lady and watched half of new Alice in Wonderland, which has terrible. Before switching over to the new Karate Kid which, after seeing the 80's version only two nights before, was slightly more terrible then the Tim Burton film, so I went to sleep.

Arriving a CAI was a freaking nightmare. As the plane began to near the city I began to have apprehensions and somehow I knew these first few hours were going to be tough. The airport was probably the nicest I'd been too my whole trip. Styled after all the things tourist want to see, the sphinx and so forth, I felt wow maybe I am wrong, maybe this whole country is some big tourist driven whitewash where I can see the slights from a window. However, my interactions with the Egyptian infrastructure where just beginning. The visa processes was easy enough. You give them 15 US dollars they give you a sticker. Customs was just as simple. A guy looked at me then my bags and said "clothes?" Before I could respond he was waiving me on. I thought "what's the point of all the security on the European end of things if you can just walk through an airport in the Middle East." However, as time wore on I found that white and American means you walk through just about every security check in the country. I then spent about an hour in the front area of the airport arranging my bags and going over and over in my mind how I would explain in Arabic the specific directions to my hotel to the cab driver and first Egyptian I was soon to meet. When I mustered the courage I went out into the sweltering 100 degree heat and was immediately barraged by an army of men grabbing at my bags screaming "Taxi!" "You need Taxi!" "I take your bag!". I had heard from my Arabic teacher to never accept a cab ride from the taxi driver most enthusiastic to give you a ride. So I repeated "la shookran" about forty times and made my way to the center island where legions of taxis were pouring in. I looked for a black and white checkered one, because the AUC student on the planed assured me that "most" of these are legit and have meters. So, when I saw an empty one coming my way I flagged it down, nervously and quickly throw my things in the back seat and jumped in the front. The driver immediately smiled and said "you American?" And I immediately said to myself "oh shit." We took off toward the exit gates and I asked "how much too Mohamed Farid square?" He didn't answer my question but said, "you have ticket?" I had no idea what he was talking about. "Ok, ticket cost you 50 dollar... and to get to Cairo it cost you 200 hundred dollar." I replied "I think it should only cost 20 or so dollars... la, ashriin ashriin dollar. I don't have that kind of money" I assured him. After I said this he put the car in reverse and headed backwards in traffic at about 40 miles per hour. He then told me, "I take you to ATM you get me money... 300 US dollars" and turned off the road and into some airport construction site. *event not dramatized*