Today I...may be giving you just a little too much information

So...here is what I love about this blog...people actually care about the fact that I am writing. It sort of blows my mind a little. And so I feel very bad that I had super dodgy internet access in Cairo and couldn't do my usual schtick of crawling into bed at night and waxing either philosophical or hysterically funny depending on my mood.

To make up for lost time I thought I would point form my Egypt experience for you - photos posted on SmugMug for those more inclined to view than to read.

• The weather was perfect, gorgeous, clear and sunny and hot and fabulous and consistent. Amazing. Coming from Calgary weather so reliable is almost a miracle.
• The existing hotel - attached to the new hotel I was there to open - was not exactly the kind of property I have become accustomed to staying in. I am spoiled. We have established this. I was mentally prepared. But that didn't matter. I struggled with the hotel to be sure.
• On the morning of my sixth day I was walking down the corridor to the elevator...in my fabulous suit, and my fabulous pumps, with my fabulous swiss army office on wheels...and I had a revelation. "I'm over it. I'm over it. I can deal." When I shared this with my transition / resource team later in the day they collapsed in laughter....even though I had kept all my angst and discomfort to myself they were wondering how long it would take me to accept reality and move on.
• The Cairo "Black and White" Taxi is a cultural experience not to be missed. I will never ever in my life complain about traffic in North America again. There is a wild and innovative and nearly spiritual governance to traffic in Cairo. They make two lanes into four, and four lanes into eight. They communicate eloquently with their horns. And Allah forbid you do not know the unnofficial "rules of the road". For us very white, very homogenous, very North American folk it goes like this: Haggle over price. Agree on what is fair. Get in. Hold on. Trust.
• "If it ain't rubbin' it ain't racin' '" - I believe it was Days of Thunder or some such inane western movie about racing that we all got excited about. Well....that happens every day in a city in Northern Africa that is far more Middle East than African....unless there is a loud thundering CRASH or somebody bleeding, it is just the course of day to day traffic. "If it ain't rubbin' it ain't drivin' "
• Shisha...its herbs. Maybe tobacco. Whatever it is, it smells amazing. It tastes amazing. It is social and connecting. It makes you feel mellow. It melts the entire day away as if it was a mirage.
• The Plague. Let me just hide this little bit of information amoung so many other tidbits, facts, and random thoughts. I got bug bites. My body reacted violently against them. Instead of searching my mini pharmacy (ever present in my luggage) for benadryl I decided to "ride it out". Bad idea. They were persistent and itchy and so frustrating...and then I went to Khan el Khalili....
• Khan el Khalili...you really have to hear me say it, in my best possible Arabic. It is throaty and...well....sort of like hawking a loogie...but this market represented to me a snapshot of life in Cairo that was so real and so cool and yet - so very very very dodgy.
• Khan el Khalili is a market place - a souk - where I thought there would be lots of tourists but I was the only caucasian female. In spite of my three "Infidel Habibis" and one "Arabic Habibi" I got a LOT of attention...and a nasty, scary, third world infection (that I am happy to report succumed to some amoxycillin after 8 days home in North America)
• It is eye opening to be white, and blue eyed, and blonde in such a place....everyone wanted to touch me - know my name - be beside me....I will be forever grateful to my Moroccan Habibi, Fahd, who gave a few Egytpian pounds to the sweet little girls who wanted to hold my hand and in the process broke my heart
• And in addition to a wide open and sad heart I brought home Egyptian treasures from Khan el Khalili...and I brought home the plague. Infection in my right toes and left ankle so bad I worried if anyone laid eyes on it they would not let me fly home....something about that bloke who flew with tuburculosis came to mind. And I selfishly flew home anyway.
• And I was greeted by my friend Greg - and he represented my darling, sweet, dear circle of friends...and he represented HOME...and I don't know if I have ever had a deeper, sweeter sleep in my life than I did that night.
• And now, having had my soul and my body fed...I can't wait to go again.

I love this life I have been granted. I can't wait to see what my passport looks like by January.

Today I...am overwhelmed with the possibility and so grateful for all that keeps me grounded and connected to my home.

Today I...am shaking the sand out of my knickers...

...and recovering from the mashed potato smack down at Greg & Diana's on the weekend!

I cannot tell you how I was craving some good Alberta farm style cookin'! Clearly not something I am capable of myself so, per usual, I relied on the hospitality and skills of my dear friends and their dear friends and ended up with a heaping plate of Turkey (delicious, perfect, yummy Turkey) and no less than four varieties of mashed potatoes smothered in gravy on my plate and in my very very grateful belly!

I imagine the fact that I needed a four hour nap the following day was more to do with carb overload and sugar shock than an 8 time zones = 8 days of recovery formula.

But, as much as I nearly cried with the joy of getting into my beautiful, soft, delightful bed when I got to return home unexpectedly (two weeks early from Cairo and four weeks early from my original plan)...And as much as I have felt so deeply grateful to hug and kiss my dear friends and look in their eyes and really just see them...I miss the field. I miss the amazing new people I have had the privledge to walk a dry desert road with. I miss the hilarity and adrenalin of a taxi ride in Cairo. I miss the daily wrap up where you can see the accomplishment and pride everyone brings to the table after the longest of long days. I even miss the hazing...well, maybe I don't really miss the hazing. It was painful. But I miss being tested and found to be stronger than perhaps those who sought to call my skills into question thought I would be.

And I miss my new friends as much as I miss my dear, true, lifelong friends when I am away.

So the wonderful thing about that is it tells me - yet again (because I have had so many affirmations) - that I am in the place that is absolutely right for me.

And Today I...am thankful! I feel so rejuvenated by being home and feeling so loved by so many. Today I...am aware that I have a rich life.

Shout out to Joel (who is, and always will be, the wind beneath my wings) for the inspiration for today's blog title.