Armed and Expressive

Today in my Egyptian dialect class, we learned how to curse in Egyptian Arabic. I kid you not. I took notes. The Egyptians on my hallway had a ball reading what I wrote. To reassure those who may be scandalized by an academic program that sets aside time to teach students how to make sailors blush, please know they only had our best interests in mind. We can at least now know when we are being insulted (and who in our extended family as well). We were also advised that trading verbal salvos with people in the street could only end badly and to avoid it at all costs.

The most severe curse words in Egyptian society are reserved for use by men only (Sorry ladies. But are you surprised?) Apparently, some Egyptian women may not even know some of the curses we learned. On a somewhat scandalous note, a woman taught us the curses. That was not too popular with my hallmates.

This coming week is the end of Ramadan which is marked by a festival called Eid al-Fitr. It is a national holiday (I think?) so we do not have class. As a program, we are going to travel to Siwa, an oasis in the Western Egyptian desert, to spend a couple days away from big ol' city, spend a night in the desert under the stars, and get this, go sand surfing. Amazing. Pictures are sure to follow.

This past Thursday we had a sand storm in Alexandria. The sky was orange.


Talk about the ultimate curveball for a weather man. How do you predict something like that? I suppose, however, I'm altogether not that sympathetic for Egyptian weathermen. I do not think their job is too hard.

Saying what you mean, meaning what you say, and still not really knowing that much