Pain. Two nights ago I went to the gym for belly dancing, and afterwards decided to go downstairs to the weight machines. Good idea, all in all.... the problem [one I rarely REALLY complain about], is that there were too many good looking guys there. Go ahead, call me whatever you want to call me, but that's one of the perks of working out in the weight machine area. Boys are doing bench presses, and chin ups, and this crazy backwards sit up thing... and I hang out, do my thing and [smile]... watch :).
The problem is this... when there are a multitude of good looking boys, or when the one I frequently watch shows up halfway through my workout, I have a tendency to hang out/lollygag/do-machines-twice/stretch-more-often/etc..... today however, my gawking and dawdling is causing me pain. Wednesdays workout had me dawdling in all the worst ways... and as I find myself cringing whenever I climb up the stairs, I think "Is this really worth it"... and of course, smile to myself, because... why not [grin]. ... no pain, no gain, right?
*mrt*
"The word aerobics came about when the gym instructors got together and said, "If we're going to charge $10 an hour, we can't call it jumping up and down." ~Rita Rudner
Friday, December 12, 2008
Sunday, November 30, 2008
“Thanksgiving was never meant to be shut up in a single day.” –Robert Caspar Lintner
Ah Thanksgiving. An event mostly characterized by getting together with family [of which, my blood family happen to be 600 to 1,300 miles away from me], turkey, and football.
So, since the first of the list was unachievable this Thanksgiving, my other family and I decided to scratch the rest of it and go with an alternative thanksgiving [smile].
Megs and I drove down to Whit’s place in B-town on Wednesday, went grocery shopping for food late that night and then stayed up watching episodes of Grey’s Anatomy.
Thursday we sorta slept in [which was really pathetic on all of our parts, ‘cause we were all up by 9:30], made breakfast, watched some of the parade [I love parades (smile)], took a walk to the grocery store, and after a few more episodes of Grey’s, started making the meal, which instead of Turkey, we decided to make Chinese!
We successfully made crab rangoon, orange chicken, and egg rolls. I leave the egg rolls for the end, ‘cause although they were successful, they were not necessarily as scrumptious as we might have liked them to be.
In any case, we continued the day watching more Grey’s, decorating X-mas ornaments, Meg’s sewed stuff, and yup… that’s about it. It was perfect. A great reminder of all the blessings I have to be thankful for.
*mrt*
So, since the first of the list was unachievable this Thanksgiving, my other family and I decided to scratch the rest of it and go with an alternative thanksgiving [smile].
Megs and I drove down to Whit’s place in B-town on Wednesday, went grocery shopping for food late that night and then stayed up watching episodes of Grey’s Anatomy.
Thursday we sorta slept in [which was really pathetic on all of our parts, ‘cause we were all up by 9:30], made breakfast, watched some of the parade [I love parades (smile)], took a walk to the grocery store, and after a few more episodes of Grey’s, started making the meal, which instead of Turkey, we decided to make Chinese!
We successfully made crab rangoon, orange chicken, and egg rolls. I leave the egg rolls for the end, ‘cause although they were successful, they were not necessarily as scrumptious as we might have liked them to be.
In any case, we continued the day watching more Grey’s, decorating X-mas ornaments, Meg’s sewed stuff, and yup… that’s about it. It was perfect. A great reminder of all the blessings I have to be thankful for.
*mrt*
Friday, November 21, 2008
“Life is change. Growth is optional. Choose wisely.”
Hooray we're moving... Oh crap, we're moving?!?!
It's true... my household family is moving to a new house downtown!
And ya know what that means?... Means that I get to have the dog!!!!! Hooray!
So now... he's a boy... [the white maltese]... and I have to pick out a name... and this is what I read on one naming site:
"It’s been estimated that your dog will be called by the name you’ll be choosing for it, over 30,000 times during the course of it’s life time. It’s also been estimated that 1 in 5 puppy owners want to change their dogs name in the first year they have it."
Clearly this is very important... so here's what I've come up with so far:
Blake [which Whitney and Shelly think is to human (rolls eyes)].
Bentley
Baxter
Benton
Bringham
Broderick
Botticelli
Daguerre
Atticus
Manet
Nikon [lol...that could work!]
So, you should help a sister out and tell me which ones you like, or any suggestions you have!
*mrt*
It's true... my household family is moving to a new house downtown!
And ya know what that means?... Means that I get to have the dog!!!!! Hooray!
So now... he's a boy... [the white maltese]... and I have to pick out a name... and this is what I read on one naming site:
"It’s been estimated that your dog will be called by the name you’ll be choosing for it, over 30,000 times during the course of it’s life time. It’s also been estimated that 1 in 5 puppy owners want to change their dogs name in the first year they have it."
Clearly this is very important... so here's what I've come up with so far:
Blake [which Whitney and Shelly think is to human (rolls eyes)].
Bentley
Baxter
Benton
Bringham
Broderick
Botticelli
Daguerre
Atticus
Manet
Nikon [lol...that could work!]
So, you should help a sister out and tell me which ones you like, or any suggestions you have!
*mrt*
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Bah...
Bad news... landlord has said no on the dog bit [rolls eyes]. Apparently something to do with the property owners being liable if the dog bites someone on their property [seriously?.. the dog I want will probably not get bigger than 5lbs... seriously?].
Anyway, he told me this about two weeks ago.. and so [smile]... because I am Maike, I will attempt to convince him I need the dog again tomorrow. I might not have any luck, but we'll see what a second shot will do for me [shrug]. If I don't get a dog, I think I might buy a new bed [nod]... I'm not sure it will fit into my room, but we'll see.
*mrt*
Anyway, he told me this about two weeks ago.. and so [smile]... because I am Maike, I will attempt to convince him I need the dog again tomorrow. I might not have any luck, but we'll see what a second shot will do for me [shrug]. If I don't get a dog, I think I might buy a new bed [nod]... I'm not sure it will fit into my room, but we'll see.
*mrt*
Sunday, October 26, 2008
"Children are for people who can't have dogs."
So, currently considering getting a dog... [nod] yup. I know, it's a lot of responsibility, you cann't travel the same, blah blah blah. I know! But did you know that it's been proven that dog owners are healthier and live longer?! So really, purchasing a dog, is going to make me a healthier human being [smile]
So first up is the Maltese puppy. He'd be a boy, and I'd get him at like 10 weeks old probably. I'd have to potty train him, and train him for other things too, but that could be a good thing, ya know? My friend Bonni's mother's dog just had puppies, so it's from a friend, not a puppy mill or anything like that. I'm pretty sure he'd come with papers [if I wanted them], and he's just so freakin adorable!!!
Second up, the Pomeranian. Also super cute, she is 2 years old and a friend who's mother is a breeder [I guess], sold this girl and then the owners brought her back for some reason. She hung out with us at work last week, and she's a little nutso at first, but she's super friendly and excited about life in general [smile]. She's not fixed, and does not have papers, but we could get some for a fee [of course].
So I've been researching about poms and malts... I think the malt might be more my style, but I think we're going to puppy sit the pom for a weekend here soon and see how it goes [shrug]... we'll see.
I don't have time now, but will put up the information I found on both breeds soon.
*mrt*
So first up is the Maltese puppy. He'd be a boy, and I'd get him at like 10 weeks old probably. I'd have to potty train him, and train him for other things too, but that could be a good thing, ya know? My friend Bonni's mother's dog just had puppies, so it's from a friend, not a puppy mill or anything like that. I'm pretty sure he'd come with papers [if I wanted them], and he's just so freakin adorable!!!
Second up, the Pomeranian. Also super cute, she is 2 years old and a friend who's mother is a breeder [I guess], sold this girl and then the owners brought her back for some reason. She hung out with us at work last week, and she's a little nutso at first, but she's super friendly and excited about life in general [smile]. She's not fixed, and does not have papers, but we could get some for a fee [of course].
So I've been researching about poms and malts... I think the malt might be more my style, but I think we're going to puppy sit the pom for a weekend here soon and see how it goes [shrug]... we'll see.
I don't have time now, but will put up the information I found on both breeds soon.
*mrt*
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
"The Grand essentials of happiness are:...."
"The Grand essentials of happiness are: something to do, something to love, and something to hope for."
-Allan K. Chalmers
Whitney loves the expression "love extravagantly".... But how does one love better each day? We ended house church tonight talking about it... and attempting to figure out how to implement it into our lives in the next week.... I think we sometimes convince ourselves we don't have time to make any more of a difference than we are already doing. And that we don't have time to figure out how to love people better... or that we're doing an okay job at it, because we're generally nice to people. But I don't really think is what Jesus was telling us to do when he said to love. Being nice and loving are different.
Anyway, I'm thinking about it... and perhaps will do an update post when I have come up with something.
*mrt*
-Allan K. Chalmers
Whitney loves the expression "love extravagantly".... But how does one love better each day? We ended house church tonight talking about it... and attempting to figure out how to implement it into our lives in the next week.... I think we sometimes convince ourselves we don't have time to make any more of a difference than we are already doing. And that we don't have time to figure out how to love people better... or that we're doing an okay job at it, because we're generally nice to people. But I don't really think is what Jesus was telling us to do when he said to love. Being nice and loving are different.
Anyway, I'm thinking about it... and perhaps will do an update post when I have come up with something.
*mrt*
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
"A man dies ... only a few circles in the water prove that he was ever there...."
"A man dies ... only a few circles in the water prove that he was ever there. And even they quickly disappear. And when they're gone, he's forgotten, without a trace, as if he'd never even existed. And that's all."
-WOLFGANG BORCHERT
Sunday I spent a good couple of hours in the largest cemetery in Indianapolis. It’s actually, probably the largest in Indiana… in any case, Crown Hill Cemetery, it’s huge.
I went for the sheer purpose of photographing statues of Mary, angels, Jesus… just statues in general really. I actually have this idea/project that I’m thinking through and working on here and there.
So, I drive in, and… although I don’t believe necessarily that I found the cemetery at 1 in the afternoon to be “creepy”… there is just something that’s eerie about cemeteries, no matter what time of day it is. I also felt silly, because I was coming for a purpose not having to do with the deceased at all. It was more like a scavenger hunt. I would see across the field if tombstones, a statue, and come up on it, photograph it from all angels, and then in the distance see another one that looked equally as fascinating and head off in it’s direction.
One of the first statues I found was one of Mary, holding onto a cross. It turns out it was actually pretty popular because I seemed to find new versions of the same thing throughout my time in the cemetery, perhaps holding the cross on the other shoulder, or a different size, but a popular idea nonetheless.
I got my camera all set, and start taking every angel of this statue, when I spy on the left side of the cross, a lump of some sort. Upon closer inspection, I find the left over shell of a cicada clinging to the cross. Because I have another project going on, my first thought was “fabulous!”…. but as I reflected on it later walking around and realizing exactly what I was walking around in, and watching people drop off flowers to graves of their deceased, I thought how appropriate it was.
The cicada, when it sheds its shell does not die instead it just moves on to a different stage of life. But much like a cicada who leaves its mark, the cemetery was in many ways the same thing. The statues, and tombstones they were all put up in remembrance of an individual who has passed away. Their bodies might still be there, but their soul, and their beings are no longer located with their shells. They have moved on to different stages. Depending on what you believe, that could be heaven, hell, or perhaps they just cease to exist, in which case my cicada analogy does nothing for you. Inevitably though, the cicada shell is broken or eaten or disintegrates. And then there is nothing.
Hmm… not a perfect analogy, but [shrug]… I’m not a writer, so it doesn’t have to be perfect [smile].
*mrt*
-WOLFGANG BORCHERT
Sunday I spent a good couple of hours in the largest cemetery in Indianapolis. It’s actually, probably the largest in Indiana… in any case, Crown Hill Cemetery, it’s huge.
I went for the sheer purpose of photographing statues of Mary, angels, Jesus… just statues in general really. I actually have this idea/project that I’m thinking through and working on here and there.
So, I drive in, and… although I don’t believe necessarily that I found the cemetery at 1 in the afternoon to be “creepy”… there is just something that’s eerie about cemeteries, no matter what time of day it is. I also felt silly, because I was coming for a purpose not having to do with the deceased at all. It was more like a scavenger hunt. I would see across the field if tombstones, a statue, and come up on it, photograph it from all angels, and then in the distance see another one that looked equally as fascinating and head off in it’s direction.
One of the first statues I found was one of Mary, holding onto a cross. It turns out it was actually pretty popular because I seemed to find new versions of the same thing throughout my time in the cemetery, perhaps holding the cross on the other shoulder, or a different size, but a popular idea nonetheless.
I got my camera all set, and start taking every angel of this statue, when I spy on the left side of the cross, a lump of some sort. Upon closer inspection, I find the left over shell of a cicada clinging to the cross. Because I have another project going on, my first thought was “fabulous!”…. but as I reflected on it later walking around and realizing exactly what I was walking around in, and watching people drop off flowers to graves of their deceased, I thought how appropriate it was.
The cicada, when it sheds its shell does not die instead it just moves on to a different stage of life. But much like a cicada who leaves its mark, the cemetery was in many ways the same thing. The statues, and tombstones they were all put up in remembrance of an individual who has passed away. Their bodies might still be there, but their soul, and their beings are no longer located with their shells. They have moved on to different stages. Depending on what you believe, that could be heaven, hell, or perhaps they just cease to exist, in which case my cicada analogy does nothing for you. Inevitably though, the cicada shell is broken or eaten or disintegrates. And then there is nothing.
Hmm… not a perfect analogy, but [shrug]… I’m not a writer, so it doesn’t have to be perfect [smile].
*mrt*
Monday, August 04, 2008
“All is Fair in Love and War”… true or false?
I just finished watching How To Loose A Guy In 10 Days, for probably the hundredth time. And it’s still one of my all time favorites.
This time watching it though, there was a distinct moment of realization in the movie that stood out to me. The moment happened when Andie was visiting Ben’s family…. And his mom leaned in to give her a hug, As she leaned in, she said something to the effect of “What other girlfriends? You’re the first girl Ben has ever brought home! Now don’t you go break his heart.” It was that moment Andie realized she wasn’t playing some sort of game. She was involved in someone’s life. There was a real live person at the receiving end of her actions. A real person that she had the power to love or hate, to make laugh or make cry, to affect in a real way.
At least as real as tv shows and movies go [smile].
It just got me thinking, ya know? I don’t really have a goal with this post, or a central idea. Except that, I think we forget about that part sometimes, ya know? We either treat it like a game, the do’s and do-not’s… or we get so caught up in what we’re feeling and thinking and going through that we forget there is more than just ‘me’ involved in the “couple”… and it’s important to not only realize there are two peoples actions and feelings involved… but to also listen to what the other person has to say, and respond in a way which recognizes them as real human beings with feelings and thoughts.
Anyway [smile]. Great movie… between that and Greys re-runs today, I got minimal done… but it was totally worth it.
*mrt*
This time watching it though, there was a distinct moment of realization in the movie that stood out to me. The moment happened when Andie was visiting Ben’s family…. And his mom leaned in to give her a hug, As she leaned in, she said something to the effect of “What other girlfriends? You’re the first girl Ben has ever brought home! Now don’t you go break his heart.” It was that moment Andie realized she wasn’t playing some sort of game. She was involved in someone’s life. There was a real live person at the receiving end of her actions. A real person that she had the power to love or hate, to make laugh or make cry, to affect in a real way.
At least as real as tv shows and movies go [smile].
It just got me thinking, ya know? I don’t really have a goal with this post, or a central idea. Except that, I think we forget about that part sometimes, ya know? We either treat it like a game, the do’s and do-not’s… or we get so caught up in what we’re feeling and thinking and going through that we forget there is more than just ‘me’ involved in the “couple”… and it’s important to not only realize there are two peoples actions and feelings involved… but to also listen to what the other person has to say, and respond in a way which recognizes them as real human beings with feelings and thoughts.
Anyway [smile]. Great movie… between that and Greys re-runs today, I got minimal done… but it was totally worth it.
*mrt*
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
laundry....
I know why I never do laundry all in the same day... it is most definitely NOT because I do not have time for it all... and it is definitely NOT because I have better things to do... It is indeed because when I do ALL of my laundry in one day, it does NOT fit in the drawers it is supposed to occupy [smile].
Random thought for the day of laundry [smile].
*mrt*
Random thought for the day of laundry [smile].
*mrt*
Monday, March 17, 2008
Why...
Why is it always the boys that you DON'T want to call who will relentlessly call you, but the guys you DO want to call, never do?
Saturday, March 01, 2008
Politics, n: [Poly "many" + tics "blood-sucking parasites"] ~Larry Hardiman
Okay, so I want everyone to take note… this blog is monumental in my blogging history, because anyone that knows me, or has read my previous blogs, knows that I RARELY voice my opinions about politics in real life, and NEVER in a blog… but there’s a first for everything right.
So I’ve been trying to be better informed about presidential candidates/what matters/what the best way to vote is/what the hell I should be looking for in a good presidential candidate/blah/blah/blah. And it’s all hella confusing, but that’s why I’m attempting to learn more, right? To broaden my horizons, to expand my working knowledge about a subject that is far from my understanding.
So in my researching/thinking/whatevering about the presidential campaign, I think I have become an Obama supporter. Which is interesting, because I am very much for women’s rights, and seeing women succeed in our country and rise to equality. But when it comes to the presidency, I want the first woman elected president to kick ass. And, although Hillary is cool and all [shrug]… I don’t think she can do it. She’s riding on Bill’s wave and she’s sort of a has been [shrug]. I don’t really care if Obama has less experience, blah blah blah… I think in some cases, less experience is better. It’s fresh. I think sometimes people are afraid of the less experienced because they have so many new ideas to try and new concepts, but in the end… I think that you can pull ahead to the front by embracing the new ideas. There’s evidence to both support and condemn that idea, of course, but [shrug]… I’d much rather take a risk and do something out of the ordinary to create a monumental change than to continue to play it safe and persist in mediocrity.
There ya go. My first political blog posting… I know, it’s like two paragraphs, whop-de-do. [smile].
*mrt*
So I’ve been trying to be better informed about presidential candidates/what matters/what the best way to vote is/what the hell I should be looking for in a good presidential candidate/blah/blah/blah. And it’s all hella confusing, but that’s why I’m attempting to learn more, right? To broaden my horizons, to expand my working knowledge about a subject that is far from my understanding.
So in my researching/thinking/whatevering about the presidential campaign, I think I have become an Obama supporter. Which is interesting, because I am very much for women’s rights, and seeing women succeed in our country and rise to equality. But when it comes to the presidency, I want the first woman elected president to kick ass. And, although Hillary is cool and all [shrug]… I don’t think she can do it. She’s riding on Bill’s wave and she’s sort of a has been [shrug]. I don’t really care if Obama has less experience, blah blah blah… I think in some cases, less experience is better. It’s fresh. I think sometimes people are afraid of the less experienced because they have so many new ideas to try and new concepts, but in the end… I think that you can pull ahead to the front by embracing the new ideas. There’s evidence to both support and condemn that idea, of course, but [shrug]… I’d much rather take a risk and do something out of the ordinary to create a monumental change than to continue to play it safe and persist in mediocrity.
There ya go. My first political blog posting… I know, it’s like two paragraphs, whop-de-do. [smile].
*mrt*
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Not Just Tourists...
I’m not sure any kind of blog posting will fully elucidate our experience in Egypt, but I also think that it’s probably important for me to try [smile]. Because it was unlike any other traveling experience that I have had. Instead of simply summarizing our trip, however, I think I will attempt to share snippets of experiences and moments in a more creative writing style. But, since we all know it has almost been two years since I’ve been in the class room, and even then, as an art major, definitely not an English anything, it might take me a little longer to successfully express and illustrate what I wish to explain.
Not Just Tourists…
London, New York, Berlin, Chicago, Paris… most globe trotters, when visiting these grandiose cities, have found it necessary, at some point in their short jaunts around the city, to use public transport… more specifically, the metro system. The El, the Tube, the Metro…. Whatever the city people call it, each is an experience of its own. You can learn a huge amount about the culture that you are in and how the people interact, the speed of their life, and the things they value as important in life in the car of the train that moves through/under/over the city.
London was my first. And it terrified me at the beginning. It took me a good long time to understand the system and not get trampled when I was lollygagging/attempting to figure out where the hell I was and where the hell I wanted to be. I learned a lot there.
In London, if you ride the Tube before 10am, you will find passengers with their faces buried in tabloids, catching up on gossip and news that they will inevitably converse with co-workers about later. There was one morning I was riding the tube to the art museum, and in a car full of probably 30 people, I was literally the only one without a tabloid.
If you ride the Metro in Paris from the airport into the center of the city, there is a decent chance that you will be entertained by a man playing an accordion, which alone is not a sexy instrument, but paired with the romantic French language, makes you feel like you’re playing a role in a movie. You should be sitting next to the man of your dreams, and cuddling up next to him as the musician sings all your cares away and you are swept up in the romance of being in love [smile].
In Germany, waiting for the Metro initially, seeing the other wobbly trains, you wonder if it is really such a good idea to use this form of transportation, and you consider exactly how long it might take you to walk to your destination instead. But you get on the coach, because you have bought the ticket already, or at least you hope that is what you purchased from the machine outside the station. People smile at you on this train, and for us an old woman strikes up a conversation about my backpack, in German of course. We smile back and shrug saying one word to explain: “English?” And to our surprise, she starts chatting with us in English before we arrive safely to our destination.
New York is full of the hustle and bustle of the city. People are amazing to watch, and the interactions of the real New Yorkers are classic. While waiting for the train someone will yell out, in the traditional I’m-a-loud-New-Yorker-manner, “Hey, Uncle Frank, where’ve you been? We’ve been looking all over for you!” and then laugh. The tourists, of course, curious to see l what the hell he is talking about, sneak a peak in the direction he’s yelling at, only to find a rat the size of a loaf of bread, attempting to scurry his fat ass around the tracks.
Up until this past month, although different, there has been a stream of similarities in how people interact with us, the tourists, in the car of a metro train. They have been pleasant, at best, and at worst, ignored us completely. In Cairo, however, it was nothing like either extreme.
We are good at traveling. We find our way, we’re not afraid to ask questions when we need to, we jump in, we embarrass ourselves occasionally, we take chances, we get lost, we find ourselves… we always generally figure things out. It was mostly the same in our first day in Egypt; after finding breakfast, we found the metro station, bought tickets, and waited for the train to come to take us into downtown for our first day of sightseeing in the city. As we casually chatted to kill time while the train made its way to our stop, the huge differences of our cultures was, although apparent, not the most immediate pressing matter of the day. Thinking nothing different than any other metro, we jumped in and continued our chatting for only a few seconds before we went silent in new realizations of our present audience.
Now, I have been stared at before, I’m tall, and blonde and in different countries/situations people gawk at that sort of thing because its apparently rare everywhere except the US. But never have I unintentionally commanded the attention of an entire train car full of passengers. We weren’t even doing anything mildly entertaining, or embarrassing! We weren’t even in culturally inappropriate attire! And yet, looking around, every single person, man and woman and child was watching us. Not just because we were the tourists on the train speaking a different language. No, it was because we were white, women, non-Muslim, hair exposed, Westerners. Never have I felt more judged. Never have I felt so defenseless.
I remember leaning over to Whit and saying “It’s a damn good thing you can’t stare holes in people.” Juli is used to it. The staring. She is one of only five white people in her city. I am not used to it, and I wonder if I ever could be.
As we went through the trip, and traveled on the Metro a handful of other times, I began to figure out exactly what it was that made me feel so unarmed. Here at home, if someone is staring at you, first of all, it is not everyone, and most times when you look back at them, they almost immediately look away; embarrassed for being caught. They might be judging you, or disappointed with the ‘youth of today’, or who-knows-what, but generally when you make eye contact, they look away. Different situation same result; you catch someone staring at you because he thinks you’re attractive. You make eye contact and he either turns away immediately, or flirts with the idea, smiles and then turns away.
When caught or stared back at, we turn away. That is what we are taught. I remember my mother telling me in church not to stare at the old person in front of me with a walker, or the man who was in a wheelchair. In grade school we were vicious with our different phrases to deter staring: “take a picture it lasts longer,” “What, do you have a staring problem!,” “Mind your own business!,” “Mom, tell Erik to stop staring at me!”. We don’t stare, or at least we’re not supposed to. Especially if it is someone who looks different, talks different or acts different than we do.
In the Cairo Metro, they did not turn away. It did not matter how hard you looked back at them, or the different kinds of looks you gave them, they stared and stared and stared.
It was not this bad all over, but I think it was especially bad on the Metro because we were in such a small place with so many people. A piece of advice one woman gave us, was that a smile will go a long way in Egypt [it actually said something like this in the guidebook as well]. It was good advice and I think there is a huge amount of truth to it.
We read in our tour book later, that there are two cars for women and children only on every Metro train. We started using them halfway through the trip, and there was a huge difference. We were still stared at, but in a more curious way. They smiled when they were caught, if they were staring at all. We were all equal. Different, but equal.
Moral of the story, if you are a woman and find yourself in Cairo, traveling with only other women… ride the women only coach on the Metro.
Not Just Tourists…
London, New York, Berlin, Chicago, Paris… most globe trotters, when visiting these grandiose cities, have found it necessary, at some point in their short jaunts around the city, to use public transport… more specifically, the metro system. The El, the Tube, the Metro…. Whatever the city people call it, each is an experience of its own. You can learn a huge amount about the culture that you are in and how the people interact, the speed of their life, and the things they value as important in life in the car of the train that moves through/under/over the city.
London was my first. And it terrified me at the beginning. It took me a good long time to understand the system and not get trampled when I was lollygagging/attempting to figure out where the hell I was and where the hell I wanted to be. I learned a lot there.
In London, if you ride the Tube before 10am, you will find passengers with their faces buried in tabloids, catching up on gossip and news that they will inevitably converse with co-workers about later. There was one morning I was riding the tube to the art museum, and in a car full of probably 30 people, I was literally the only one without a tabloid.
If you ride the Metro in Paris from the airport into the center of the city, there is a decent chance that you will be entertained by a man playing an accordion, which alone is not a sexy instrument, but paired with the romantic French language, makes you feel like you’re playing a role in a movie. You should be sitting next to the man of your dreams, and cuddling up next to him as the musician sings all your cares away and you are swept up in the romance of being in love [smile].
In Germany, waiting for the Metro initially, seeing the other wobbly trains, you wonder if it is really such a good idea to use this form of transportation, and you consider exactly how long it might take you to walk to your destination instead. But you get on the coach, because you have bought the ticket already, or at least you hope that is what you purchased from the machine outside the station. People smile at you on this train, and for us an old woman strikes up a conversation about my backpack, in German of course. We smile back and shrug saying one word to explain: “English?” And to our surprise, she starts chatting with us in English before we arrive safely to our destination.
New York is full of the hustle and bustle of the city. People are amazing to watch, and the interactions of the real New Yorkers are classic. While waiting for the train someone will yell out, in the traditional I’m-a-loud-New-Yorker-manner, “Hey, Uncle Frank, where’ve you been? We’ve been looking all over for you!” and then laugh. The tourists, of course, curious to see l what the hell he is talking about, sneak a peak in the direction he’s yelling at, only to find a rat the size of a loaf of bread, attempting to scurry his fat ass around the tracks.
Up until this past month, although different, there has been a stream of similarities in how people interact with us, the tourists, in the car of a metro train. They have been pleasant, at best, and at worst, ignored us completely. In Cairo, however, it was nothing like either extreme.
We are good at traveling. We find our way, we’re not afraid to ask questions when we need to, we jump in, we embarrass ourselves occasionally, we take chances, we get lost, we find ourselves… we always generally figure things out. It was mostly the same in our first day in Egypt; after finding breakfast, we found the metro station, bought tickets, and waited for the train to come to take us into downtown for our first day of sightseeing in the city. As we casually chatted to kill time while the train made its way to our stop, the huge differences of our cultures was, although apparent, not the most immediate pressing matter of the day. Thinking nothing different than any other metro, we jumped in and continued our chatting for only a few seconds before we went silent in new realizations of our present audience.
Now, I have been stared at before, I’m tall, and blonde and in different countries/situations people gawk at that sort of thing because its apparently rare everywhere except the US. But never have I unintentionally commanded the attention of an entire train car full of passengers. We weren’t even doing anything mildly entertaining, or embarrassing! We weren’t even in culturally inappropriate attire! And yet, looking around, every single person, man and woman and child was watching us. Not just because we were the tourists on the train speaking a different language. No, it was because we were white, women, non-Muslim, hair exposed, Westerners. Never have I felt more judged. Never have I felt so defenseless.
I remember leaning over to Whit and saying “It’s a damn good thing you can’t stare holes in people.” Juli is used to it. The staring. She is one of only five white people in her city. I am not used to it, and I wonder if I ever could be.
As we went through the trip, and traveled on the Metro a handful of other times, I began to figure out exactly what it was that made me feel so unarmed. Here at home, if someone is staring at you, first of all, it is not everyone, and most times when you look back at them, they almost immediately look away; embarrassed for being caught. They might be judging you, or disappointed with the ‘youth of today’, or who-knows-what, but generally when you make eye contact, they look away. Different situation same result; you catch someone staring at you because he thinks you’re attractive. You make eye contact and he either turns away immediately, or flirts with the idea, smiles and then turns away.
When caught or stared back at, we turn away. That is what we are taught. I remember my mother telling me in church not to stare at the old person in front of me with a walker, or the man who was in a wheelchair. In grade school we were vicious with our different phrases to deter staring: “take a picture it lasts longer,” “What, do you have a staring problem!,” “Mind your own business!,” “Mom, tell Erik to stop staring at me!”. We don’t stare, or at least we’re not supposed to. Especially if it is someone who looks different, talks different or acts different than we do.
In the Cairo Metro, they did not turn away. It did not matter how hard you looked back at them, or the different kinds of looks you gave them, they stared and stared and stared.
It was not this bad all over, but I think it was especially bad on the Metro because we were in such a small place with so many people. A piece of advice one woman gave us, was that a smile will go a long way in Egypt [it actually said something like this in the guidebook as well]. It was good advice and I think there is a huge amount of truth to it.
We read in our tour book later, that there are two cars for women and children only on every Metro train. We started using them halfway through the trip, and there was a huge difference. We were still stared at, but in a more curious way. They smiled when they were caught, if they were staring at all. We were all equal. Different, but equal.
Moral of the story, if you are a woman and find yourself in Cairo, traveling with only other women… ride the women only coach on the Metro.
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