Talking to Strangers

The first time I left the Motherland, I went to Egypt. I went with three close friends when I was 19, and all of us agreed never to speak of several aspects of the journey ever again. But for the speakable part, I'll let you in:

One word to sum up my first impression of the place: Hot. We’re talking 40+ degree heat. The “hotels” we stayed in had “air-conditioning”, so this is generally where we spent our time during the day. Warm air would blow out into our faces and half-naked bodies as we sprawled ourselves across anything that felt cooler than our body temperature (I would often end up with my face on the bedside table).

Back home I would have been the first to complain, but here, I didn’t even care; I’d wanted to go to Egypt since I was pubescent weirdo, when I collected mini Egyptian statues and read those stupid adventure books that came with a DIY bracelet kit for you and your bestie.

So, for once, I was not the one complaining about the heat. Nor did I complain about the plastic bags that flew into my face and suffocated me whenever I walked anywhere, ever. I also didn't complain about the men who lurked outside our hotel waiting to both serenade and sell us cheap factory-made tourist goods as soon as our big toe stepped out of the perimeter of our building. No, I was not complaining. I wanted to stay forever, or until I got bored.

Every experience received a super enthusiastic response out of me:

“PYRAMIDS? YEAH BOI!”

“THE NILE? HECK YES!”

“RIDE A DONKEY FOR FIVE HOURS INTO THE DESERT? WILL I EVER!”

“THE TEN BILLIONTH TEMPLE I’VE SEEN IN TWO DAYS? YOU KNOW IT!”

Like I said, even the weather couldn’t wear me down, and I tore through that dirty, smelly, amazing country like a small child on red cordial and participation badges. Accepting rides from strange men named Sheriff, who drove with a death wish on a six-lane highway that also accommodated sheep, and swimming in water that looked like it belonged in a blocked toilet were moments where I feared for my life and I was still grinning like a maniac.

After a donkey broke wind in my face, and my friend Tiffany was dressed by a local store-owner in a revealing sparkle dress worn by his mannequin, we felt we had accomplished and experienced as much as we could in Egypt, and our visa was up anyway, so we reluctantly moved on.