growing up

well, growing up. what does that mean? we all hear it and we never believe it..but we say it. we ask for it...but what are we growing up to? my mother? my sister? my teacher? a perception?

i believe there comes a time in each persons life where THEY define what is "grown up".

i have so much on my mind i don't know where to start...i love life. i love my family. i love my friends. i love. i love so much. deeply.

i.love.everything.

blogging...

wow, haven't blogged in a while. i guess no need, i don't feel disconnected from friends and family. life is good. but isn't always life good? is blogging necessary...don't i have a journal? email? a telephone? sms? twitter? facebook? all of this constant computer interaction is going to do something to the world.

wow.  i have been home for 6 months.  it truly amazes me how adaptable humans are.  i still feel blessed.  and that is nice.  i love the company i work for and am learning and growing professionally each day.  

Holy Moly

Well, I made it home.  I told you..."before you know it"...I'd be here.  Here I am, at my mom's house.  Dad has "temporarily" lost his vision.  I say temporarily in quotes because I cannot confirm whether it is permanent or temporary.  But rather I would like to believe it is temporary, thus...the quotes.

Gosh, alot sure has happened since last I wrote.  I wish sometimes I would have transcribed more experiences.  Reading back on them is much more enjoyable than actually experiencing them!  HaHa.  Well, some of them.  Actually, I can keep that insight for my next adventure.  Which I am sure will not be too far away.   

So the hotel, gosh, what an experience.  Truly.  Not much that I can say other than I learned a lifetime of information.  Everything from not shaking a "peasant" man's hand to having to explain, justify and show credible evidence that I was not a 

1. Spy.

2. Compulsive Gambler with large debts back home.

3. A murderer...but like seriously.

4. A prostitute propositioning  herself to young vunerable Muslim Egyptian men...GAG.

5. A mental retard (This one was actually alot more difficult to convince otherwise).

During the now infamous "inquisition" I was accused of faking my PASSPORT..."umm, dude, I'm like AMERICAN.  p.s. not too easy".  

Accused of faking my Resume "There is no such thing as a 4 star restaurant...DOESN'T EXSIST.  NEVER EVER."  Accused of faking the photo of myself in my Resume (aka CV...it's an International thing).  Asked over and over and over again "WHO ARE YOU?"  "DON'T LIE...WHO ARE YOU?".  

Regardless, with that little incident over and my reputation exonerated for the time being (I'm a single female living Islam...my reputation isn't too high right now anyway).  I have to say that the people, the bedouin, my neighbors, my colleagues, and so many others I cannot think of allowed for the situations in which I could ultimately learn GRACIOUSNESS, HUMILITY, APPRECIATION, GRATITUDE, SELF CONFIDENCE (there is nothing quite like walking down an Egyptian street headed to your Grocer to buy produce knowing WHAT to say...and HOW to say it) PATIENCE and LOVE.  They allowed for me to make many...MANY cultural mistakes, they allowed for me to be angry, sad, frustrated, lonely, bored, happy, peaceful, content, quiet, humorous and most importantly MYSELF.  They allowed me the full gamete of emotions, to experience every single one deep so that I could understand them and truly experience CONTRAST.  Contrast in everything.  Everything was different.  No example of my daily life could ever be transplanted there and work.  You have to use different methods.  Different stories.

I have now been back in Dallas, Tx for almost 3 months.  And it's okay.  Dad can't see and that is okay.  He is managing.  He is surviving.  And I can't say how lucky and appreciative I am to be here for that.  I have been catching myself becoming so nervous that I will "convert back".  Here  I am without ANYTHING.  With no place of being, with no bank account, computer, material possessions, clothes ( I mean I have some clothes, but extremely limited...still my Egyptian wares) and I am okay with that.  In fact, I am so scared that I will fall back into this rhythm of CONSUMERISM.  I have just recently let go of all these things.  And now, I'm in DALLAS.  It is the center of materialism.  I think materialism was born from here and transplanted to L.A.  There is nothing to do but spend money.  That's IT!  A great challenge I now can see from writing.  How wonderful to incorporate my recent experiences into a place that offers nothing but the opposite...EVERYTHING you want whenever you want it...Wow.  

I hope I get this job.  Not at Shangri-la.  Didn't work out.  A true disappointment for the time being.  But honestly...I really didn't want it.  It sounded nice cause it was "given" to me.  But really it made me nervous.  No point in that, right.  

Goodness Gracious.  Long blog.  I think I'll sign off.  But one thing...capitalism is wonderful.  Really.  It's moderating it that is the tough part.  

xoxo

Back in the USA

new digs

my new employer asked me to move into the newly constructed management housing OFF PREMISE to assist the recently relocated Spa Manager. i was STOKED to say the least. my last apartment...nice and WARM, which was key for the winter, but it had no windows and i felt a little like i was living in a cage. so my new pad is KILLER. when i say KILLER, i really mean, it's siiiiick. beautiful. i HAVE A BATHTUB. my very own BATHTUB. i might have to get a room mate...but who cares, i have rooftop access, my private garden, all new appliances. it is such a blessing and i am really starting to feel like cinderella.

however, two days ago the maintenance team and the housekeeping crew from the hotel was making adjustments to the property to prepare it for the Level 1 management team. anyways, i am not exactly sure what when wrong...but it all started to go downhill. the GM and the Architect ended up coming to find that ALL their employees were at our apartments to do god knows what...all that was needed for was a light for the outside and the satelite fixed. end up with over 20 hotel employees (all men) trampzing around putting their fingers all over my personal things.

regardless of how it went...tensions were high and then one of the plumbing dudes broke a water line in my bathroom and i got VERY nervous. i waved over the housekeeping manager since he was in charge of supervising the entire crew...i now know that you NEVER NEVER NEVER wave over an ARAB man. ever ever ever....i believe this is the point when the situation escalated but it boiled over when the housekeeping manager starts to walk into my house with a cigarette and i politely informed him i don't smoke. another big NO NO...a WOMAN DOESN'T TELL A MAN WHAT TO DO...NEVER...NEVER...NEVER...

he got carried away and was screaming in my face...i don't take orders from you...i only take orders from my boss...you can't tell me what to do...blah...blah...blah. soooooooooooooooo....since the property is under the management of the hotel the same entitlements and priviledges apply to us as if we were staying in the hotel. so the next morning housekeeping came to clean the apartments...i denied the service since i really did not feel comfortable have strange MUSLIM men trampzing around my apartment when i am not there...cash, passport, personal items. i leave for work and upon my return i found a large STAR OF DAVID painted into the sand in the garden.

i really felt very scared. i have experienced things here in which i have felt uncomfortable or ignorant or even a little frightened...but not at this level. i was downright FREAKED THE FUCK OUT. i immediately called my GENERAL MANAGER and her husband (the architect and project manager for the hotel) called me and came to see the property.

i am still unsure about this. everyone tells me that the egyptians are not dangerous...but it is still a sensitive and delicate region. regardless, thank god my neighbors are bedouin. i feel a little more safe. alot of lessons here. the next day i was sat down and spoke to...because I responded incorrectly. "ummmm, dude, a muslim man painted the jewish symbol into the sand of my personal space"....an EMPLOYEE of the hotel. i am a SINGLE FEMALE LIVING ALONE. WTF? but it is a lesson for me to learn. how to manage all male staff.

a story i really didn't want to tell again....but just in case. i have the photos on my camera.

the biggest challenge...

the biggest challenge that i have been facing is LANGUAGE. talking. i rarely talk. when i do speak, it is usually with people that are using english as their SECOND or sometimes THIRD language. so it can be a bit tricky. especially with my vaste command of the english language...such as "dude", "that's sweet", "take it easy bro", "hot dang", "goodness gracious".

yesterday i was invited to sharm el sheikh for hisham's perfomance at the shark bay hotel. it was a long evening. we arrived around 7pm...popped some cold brewskie, sat...and sat...and sat a little more. we were waiting for the food...8...no go...9...don't think so...10...don't even think about it...11pm they casually start rolling out the food. i was STARVING. i think that everyone else was too. regardless, the buffet was bum rushed and i was left gnawing on some boiled carrots. undercooked boiled carrots. hell freeze over before i would open my mouth and actually say that i was hungry. so i sat there sipping tea sitting by the fire with friends. the only woman, yet again, nearly 100 bedouin men. mostly from the desert. a unique breed of humans. more mystics. anyway, sometimes i feel very uncomfortable. too much male energy. WAAAAY too much. but one thing i really enjoy about these nights is that you are left alone. bedouin men are not allowed to speak to an unmarried woman...much less look at one. so i can just sit and mind my own business. it's nice sometimes. sometimes i get really really REALLY bored.

the show was good. great, actually. as always. after, we head back to dahab and stop for gas before the checkpoint...yes, i said checkpoint...you think twice about drinking and driving when a couple of UZIS are staring at your face. ahhahah...anyway, i asked for a coca cola to tide me over the 1 plus hour back to dahab. the guys all call me GIBNA...it's arabic for cheese. hahahah...for real. it's hilarious...so they say "standa schwa-a, gibna...standa schwa-a"....(arabic for wait a little bit) and i'm thinking 'WAIT?! WAIT?!!! how can i wait anymore". but again, one of the life lessons i am POSITIVE that for me i have to learn here is PATIENCE...afterall it's a virtue. so i nodded my head and said "mashi". (okay).

next thing i know we are driving around sharm el sheikh at 3:30am...and my stomach is shriveled....when the smell of french fries....burgers....apple pies comes wafting through the window. i turn around and we are pulling into a MCDONALDS.....WAHOO MICKEY D'S! yessur. i wish i had brought my camera. however, sometimes moments like this are reserved just for your memory.

white american gir andl...6..yes...6! VERY nicely dressed BEDOUIN men...when i mean nicely dressed i really mean it...they take great care and pride in their fashion. it might look like dresses and towels to us, but it is much more. sooo here we are strolling in 6 + one rugrat deep. it was a feast none the less...french fries....a HUGE big mac...it was the size of my face. they definitely don't make them that big in the states. for sure! they just ordered a massive amount of food. it was so nice to EAT! and yes, it was mcdonalds...but shit, sometimes it's nice to have things from home. but boy o boy did everyone look at us...we are sitting there, half drunk, stoned and chowing on mcdonalds french fries and laughing. unique experiences.

but sometimes i shout very quietly..."GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE".

the great and terrible.

last night

i was going to make some spinach pesto. i bought some fresh spinach in sharm el sheikh last thursday and needed to use it. so i was going to make some to freeze to have on hand when i got a PHONE CALL. my phone actually rang! a girl i had met last week and is a diver invited me to her house to make the pesto since she had a blender...score.

we decided to ride bikes and her friend had an extra one. we went to his house to borrow it and was invited in for a brewskie. or two...then another bro showed up with a flat of beer....two more people...two more....and A DUCK IN THE OVEN. say what?! next thing i know i'm surrounded by all GERMANS FROM THE EAST! duck...wine....braised red cabbage and boiled potatoes with gravy. doesn't get much eastern german than that! it is so amazing to me to think of my grandfather and my great uncles fighting in a war they could NEVER imagine would bond their granddaughter with "the enemy".

it was so lovely to enjoy a home cooked meal! roasted duck! they are all divers and i felt a bit left out since i know nothing about diving. they all kind of look at me blankly like "then why are you HERE?"


i'm figuring that one out.