Good Golly!

Holy crap this test is going to kick my keister! The analogy part alone will give me gray hair. But the book is good alhumdulillah and I think will help me a lot, and meeting it’s previous owner was a delight. Getting a book from a Fulbright scholar should be a good omen right?

Right?!

Seriously. Anyone out there who has taken their GRE please, please drop me a comment or an email with some suggestion tips.

I’m going to go make flashcards now- my vocabulary has a tought road ahead of it.

things to be thankful for…

no coherent post, just some things I caught myself being thankful for:

1.) Not having to worry about my husband. I caught a few seconds of a movie a few minutes ago as I was turning off the TV and a woman was frustrated with her staggeringly drunk lover and I remembered so many past situations with my friends as their boyfriends/husbands/fathers came home completely smashed. It was one of those things that the second person can’t make stop, like a natural disaster or a car accident. Drunkards happen to those they love.

Its late at night and my husband is out with his friends and I am not in the least worried about him. I’m not worried that he’s going to come home plastered or that he is out chasing women. Alhumdulillah. These little things you take for granted.

2.) Cats being pains in the rearend. For realz. I was so delighted that Zuzu was feeling well enough to jump up on the kitchen counter and make mischief that I didn’t even yell at her or chase her around the house. Its been two weeks that we didn’t have to constantly keep the door to the kitchen closed cuz she was not feeling well enough to wreak havoc. I think Zuzu was surprised that I was so happy, it took her a minute or so to come out from under the chair where she was hiding and I swear to God she had a “so you’re really not going to beat?” look on her face. Alhumdulillah for her getting better inshAllah.

3.) God’s mysterious way. Justified or not in quitting my job, a completely random and unsolicited opportunity to buy a 2009 Kaplan GRE book for a fraction of its original price has come up and I will take it. InshAllah tomorrow. And in my free time I can begin studying for the GREs way ahead of schedule. Alhumdulillah.

4.) Also have to say alhumdulillah for the not so nice things as well. Will be looking for a new maid. This one apparently can’t keep her days or her weeks straight. Alhumdulillah. Does anyone know why Eyptian maids eventually do this? Its not just me, I’ve heard SO many people complain of the same scenario: they start showing up late, sometimes call to tell you they are not coming, most times just don’t show up, maybe don’t show up for the whole week, and then come on random days. Why? Anyways I have had enough of this and its sad to say because I know homegirl isn’t going to steal from me and I have no idea if I will be able to say the same of the next one. But alhumdulillah. Right boys and girls?

Say it with me: Thank God.

The View From Wonderland

I’ve only been here in Egypt since last June, so roughly ten months give or take a week. When I was in the US you could see that the economy was faltering and the housing market had been on the rocks for a couple of years previous to that but it was nothing compared to what it is now. In these last ten months the sh*t really did hit the fan, and I was not there to see it.

Please understand that my view of things is distant and fuzzy at best, I couldn’t see it first hand but I heard about it on the news and I guess by now I should realize that what happens is usually one hundred times worse than what they say on the TV. In the past three to four months specifically a large number of people I know have been “downsized” and are out of work, including two family members, one of whom is fortunately working again in another place.

But seriously I cannot fathom, in the deepest recesses of my usually fertile imagination, how bad it really is there. I was chatting with my mom last night and she mentioned a house in our neighborhood had gone on the market and that it had three times the land that our house had and yet it was going for 79 grand.

A house! With three full lots of land IN Saint Paul, for 79 freaking grand? Our own house, 8 years ago, went for only a little less than twice that. I feel like we’ve been whisked back to the 1970’s! 79,000? Its unbelievable!

If I had money, my friends, I would be buying land and houses left and right. Unfortunately the biggest problem right now is that no one has any, least of all myself.

Living here I cannot see how things truly are back home, I know that when I was doing some boredom-driven job searches I got a little nauseous at seeing how few there were. Thats scary. But to know that things are going that cheap just reeks of desperation and thats even scarier. I’m not sure what I’ll be going home to but I do know that I want to go home.

Nothin’ like bein’ around to help pull your nation up by the shorthairs bootstraps.

Ah, if only I had money.

$$$$$

I’d be collecting houses like Imelda Marcos collected shoes.

Or Angelina collects babies.

Edit: did mls search. fell in love with house. cursing lack of 75K.

curse you lack of money, cuuuuuuuuuuuurse!

Edit #2: dreams. crushed. pieces. everywhere.

On Writing and Definition

The fact that I want to (already am?) to be a writer is quite obvious to those who read my blog.

But why do I want to be a writer? Of course it is well-known that art is a calling and not necessarily a choice; writing has always been my way of coping with life and struggles and it just about burst out of me at thirteen much without any thought on my part. At the moment of writing my first poem it was quite literally write or explode and when I had finished I was astonished that I could actually write something that resembled a work of art. Emo and angst-ridden it was, I admit, but even reading what I had written years later I was still struck by the raw brutality of it.

I can’t explain how crucial it was for me to let the words out. Often times I would wake up at 3am and write the brief snippets of the words or poetry that were plaguing my dreams, they were like angry bees that gave me no rest until I had freed them from their cages. Later I heard other writers refer to writing in the same way, but until that time I thought it was only me who was beset by the need to write at odd hours. For years I kept a pen and pad at the head of my bed and many a poem or idea for a story were written while I was still asleep.

But thats not why I want to become a writer. Or, to be more honest, why I want to become a well-known writer. There are so many issues that I represent and so many misunderstandings that I want to right and that is why I want to be a writer.

How many female Muslim writers are there in the world? How many of us hear their voices? How many Muslim-American women writers are there? How many are well-known?

There is a large audience out there waiting for the other side of the story. An audience that has read countless books about opressed Arabian princesses and Taleban beheadings or women beaten by their husbands who are justified by their brutal religion.

All of us say “NO!” but who hears us?

Thats why I want to write.

And yet I don’t want to be confined by my defintion. Categorized in my own writing as this or that, a femi-nazi or a sheherezad, a Muslim who would be lambasted by the community for writing something “wrong” or disagreeing with the “uncles.”

I don’t want to be constrained for what I represent. Its a fine line.

I was looking at the website for the Arab Media & Society this afternoon and despite their valiant attempts to be pan-Arab and Middle-Eastern they still fall into the trap of thereby being “Muslim;” although they pander to no religious or political authority.

The key to writing for Arab Media & Society is the ability to help readers better understand media’s role in shaping Arab societies and the broader Muslim World.

It just reiterates the wrong assumption that Arab=Muslim and Middle Eastern=Muslim. Definitions and categories are so easy to fall into and so hard to break out of.

My blog is called Multicultural Muslimah because I am. I am a white (ahem Caucasian-American,) Spanish-speaking, Egypt-living, interracially-married, still at least half Latina (figuratively,) Muslim American.

Half the time I can’t even figure myself out, so how can anyone else?

So I will write and each story speaks about a side of me. Thats why I want to be a writer.

*deep breath*

So… yea. In other writing news I will be closing mostly all future posts on Cairo Calling except to those who have the password and I’m going to be EXTREMELY picky about those who I give the password to. I’m sorry, I hate to shut people out but because I will probably, at some point, publish things I write on there I have to be careful about people being able to steal my work. Ya’ll know it has happened before.

I will post some things that are open to everyone and when I do I will make a link on here. I will be emailing the password to those I want to have it so please do no email me asking for it. (Man I feel like an ass, I’m sorry.)

I also do periodically post on The Veridical Paradox so please keep checking. I promise it will get more interesting as I will be unemployed in a week and will be able to focus on my ten-step program.

Ya Utta!(hey, cat!)

I just love this silly cat so much. SubhanAllah* God made these creatures and they love us unconditionally, trust us no matter what we do to them, and will stay with us unless they are forceably taken away.

Since the very first day I brought Zuzu home she has trusted me. No more than four or five hours after I first met the silly kitten I took her to the vet where she got a number of painful immunizations and it was my arms that she sought protection in and my hands that she purred under even through all of the needle pokes. Today after a painful antibiotic injection she tried to hide in my armpit and this evening the very first moment I sat down to peel potatoes she left her second favorite place to sleep and climbed onto my lap, potatoes and all, and tried to curl up in my arms. Even after lovingly pushing her down she stayed curled up at my side until I finished.

Every single chance she gets to climb into my side of the armoire and sleep on the clothes she does so, no matter how many times I shoo her out and no matter that Mr. MM leaves the door of his side open so she can sleep in there whenever she wants. Its my side of the armoire she breaks into (although I think a part of this is because I actually leave a pile of shawls and other miscellaneous items of clothing in a pile at the bottom so its comfy and warm) to sleep on my clothes.

Sometimes I am overwhelmed by how much I love this silly creature and I’m overwhelmed by how much she loves me. God gave us these creatures, and all of the earth, as a trust.

I’m trying to earn it, one silly utta*** at a time.

*SubhanAllah- see glossary of terms.
**Utta- cat in Arabic.

Not Seizures

Thank God.

Just her being dizzy and wacked out from her fever. She got a shot from the vet and will get two more from me tomorrow and the day after. InshAllah everything will be done and she will heal quickly and I can have my healthy kitty back.

Tips to expats- if you are going back, wait until you are there to perform surgeries on your pets. Its much better in the States or whichever western, developed country you’re from.

I am so glad they are not seizures, alhumdulillah. But Dr. Mikhail looked at me like I was a crackhead, I think he finds me amusing. *sigh*

Dude, looked like seizures to me.

Bas alhumdulillah rabiya al-ameen.

Distraught

I think that not giving the pills to Zuzu, no matter how much she fought us, was not a good idea. She still seems to have a fever and I think she’s having seizures. Last night she just looked funny, not right. I can tell by her eyes, I can always tell by her eyes.

This morning I was watching her and she seemed stumbly and awkward and was making jerking motions. The more I watched her I would see her tuck all her feet under herself, close her eyes and then her head would start jerking and it would surprise her. Light seemed to hurt her eyes and when I could call her it seemed like the noise of my voice hurt her. But the jerking… it is always her head in one direction and she doesn’t seem to be able to control it. Also her nose and whiskers seem to be uncontrollably twitching. She’s so tired, her eyes are red, and the pupils look funny. Something is just not right.

I brought her with me to work and according to Dr. Mikhail’s website he should be in at 10am but when he finally answered all of my texts and calls with a text message, he said that he wouldn’t be in until 1:30.

One thing I really wish would be for businesses here in Egypt to stick to their fucking business hours. Excusing my swearing but I’ve had it up to my eyebrows with the work ethic and customer service here. I’ve had it up to my eyebrows with this city and this country.

In the US I would have my car and more easily be able to get to the vet, and in the US they have animal hospitals and vets who are available more than 4 hours a day.

If I had waited until I got to the states to spay Zuzu this would never have happened.

Next time my cats come from the ASPCA and the Humane Society and will come already spayed/neutered.

I hate this country and I’m so ready to go home.

Please pray for Zuzu, I just don’t know what else to do.

Is That Writing On The Wall?

I’ve had to make a decision recently, a very painful and controversial one, that I know I will be questioned toughly on but I feel that I could make no other choice.

Maybe it will seem like a stupid thing to do, maybe some will see it as a cop-out, but I believe it was a justified and morally-responsible decision.

I’m quitting my job.

Not immediately, I’m not jumping ship or anything, I have resigned but I am staying on and hiring for someone to replace me and making sure that its someone who is better for the job than I am.

See I love this company and I love my bosses because they are good people of God who have treated me with the utmost respect and kindness. Thats why I have to quit, because what I offer them is not everything the company needs and deserves and for what they are paying me, a lot for what I bring to them, they should be getting someone better.

Bluntly: someone who speaks Arabic and can emotionally cope with the daily dose of BS one must take in order to work here.

They’ve given me a crucial project that I am not right for and, quite frankly, hate. But its brutally important to the continued growth of the company and I am constrained both by my lack of Arabic and also by my own fear and incompetency.  I’m not a Marketing major, I dropped business studies like a hot potato because I hated it so much.

Also working with Egyptians takes a massive amount of patience and finesse that I don’t have on a good day. Telesales in English with fellow Americans comes in a close second to pulling off my fingernails with a pair of pliers on the things-I’d-rather-do list.

But seriously, there’s a specific method to working with the masses in Egypt and I didn’t learn it. I learned cut and dry business, western business, straight up front business. I can’t deal with it here! I can barely stand going to the grocery store.

And I feel that there was writing on the wall; that my bosses who like me and don’t want to have to let me go were tallying the input vs. output ratio and coming up short. We’re a business process consulting company that wants to be hired to cut off the extra flab on other companies, how can we sell ourselves as that when we’re not applying it within? I feel like a fraud working here.

So I couldn’t continue.

And what makes me feel that while I have sufficient reason for leaving I am not making the right decision is the little mom-voice in my head saying, “don’t quit until you’ve found another job!” And I haven’t, as of yet. That makes me nervous and it makes me mad.

But I can’t stay in this job being mildly useless, waiting for the ax to fall, throwing myself half-heartedly into a project that makes me so nervous I break into hives everytime I pick up the phone.

And anyways, I won’t be leaving this job until I’ve hired for my position and trained them slightly. That might be two to three weeks, maybe a month.

But oh what an emotional rollercoaster. I feel guilty staying in this job but I feel irresponsible leaving it. I want to feel that I made the right decision and yet the icy hand of fear continues to squeeze my heart.

Its a lose-lose situation for me, at least at this moment.

InshAllah God will help me be where I need to be.

Thank You!

I just wanted to thank everyone who left sweet and comforting comments on all my posts about Zuzu. It really did help to know other people were caring about my cat and supporting me.

Thank you so much.

Currently she is doing good. She fights us pretty hard on giving her the pills, in fact I believe that in one of those battles she opened a small section of her incision so she has a dime-sized hole. It looks ugly but it doesn’t bother her and it doesn’t seem to be infected. I’m putting antibiotic cream on it and hoping that it heals up. I’ve also stopped trying to force the pills on her, mostly because I don’t want to injure her further.

Other than this she is eating and running around a lot more and generally returning to her normal self. She does seem to be extra needy in terms of lovin’; everytime I sat down yesterday she was up on my lap, but I’m not complaining. I missed my cuddly furball.

Again thank you to everyone who left me kind comments and e-mails, it meant and means so much to me.

The Return of Zuzu

She met us at the door this evening!

!!!

Zuzu almost always meets us at the door; when we put our key in the lock we can hear her on the other side already welcoming us home and then she winds herself around our ankles, purring and waiting to be picked up and snuggled.

Its our homecoming ritual.

Ever since the surgery Zuzu had not been meeting us at the door and at times she wouldn’t even leave her sleeping place while at others it would take her a minute or two to get to the entry way and she was never looking for snuggles. But not tonight, tonight we heard her sweet meows before we even put our key in the door and had a purring cat demanding snuggles when we got in and dropped our stuff. In fact Zuzu was so intent on getting petted that she wanted it double-handed; if either of my hands was not petting her at any specific moment I got ‘the nudge.’

She had eaten all of the little bit of wet cat food I left for her AND she ate the most dry cat food I’ve seen her eat since the surgery. She even ate a little bit of the wet food I put for her once we got home. Its a 180 degree turn, alhumdulillah. She played with the lazer pointer- a little- even.

Oh how we missed our cat! Its so great to see her personality again. I don’t know how I would have handled it if I had lost her.

But alhumdulillah.