A Wisconsin Girl and Egyptian time
One thing I was warned about before I came to Egypt was that Egyptians aren't very good with the concept of "on-time." I was told to prepare myself for constantly waiting an hour or two every time I had plans. Based on everyone's comments, I'm sure that this is true and I've just been lucky that my co-workers and AIESEC Cairo University are such diligent people.
Regardless, the reality of "Egyptian time" accidentally got me drunk yesterday.
I had an hour or two to kill before dinner plans with Nisrin, my Arab American friend, who has managed to absorb all of the worst quirks of both cultures. She's mastered the "American Bitch" concept, while also adopting "Arab Scheduling." Not only will she fall asleep for six hours and leave you waiting at a coffee shop, but she'll remorselessly chew you out when your eighth phone call wakes her up. God Bless her.
For those of you non-American readers, I come from the homeland of beer. Wisconsin produces most of the country's cheap, dirty and delicious beer. And our people reflect it. It's pretty normal to finish a pitcher or two with friends after work, go home and nap, then meet those friends for after-dinner drinks.
As a Wisconsin native, sometimes, I just want a beer. Yesterday was one of those days.
I went to our favorite downtown (and damn near only) drinking spot: Horeya. Its got that right mix of cheap prices, cold war-inspired interior design (pale yellow walls and dirty mirrors) and sad middle-aged Egyptian men. Needless to say, I love it.
I figured I would have a beer or two while waiting for Nisrin's call. This is where Egyptian time screwed me. 7:00 p.m. turned into 8:30 p.m. and I had drank four beers on an empty stomach. The waiter kept telling my friend in arabic that he loved me while I poured beer from my bottle into my friend's and flicked these little yellow beans at other patrons.
Every time my friend would suggest we get food I'd yell "No, Nisrin and I are gonna eat soup. I made it myself!"
8:30 p.m. rolled on into 9:30 p.m. and Egypt time had gotten me hammered.
Nisrin never called, I never ate any soup. I turned my phone off out of fear someone might call and discover how drunk I was at such an early hour. (May caught me anyway)
Sorry, there's no real moral to this one. Well, maybe: never trust Nisrin.
Regardless, the reality of "Egyptian time" accidentally got me drunk yesterday.
I had an hour or two to kill before dinner plans with Nisrin, my Arab American friend, who has managed to absorb all of the worst quirks of both cultures. She's mastered the "American Bitch" concept, while also adopting "Arab Scheduling." Not only will she fall asleep for six hours and leave you waiting at a coffee shop, but she'll remorselessly chew you out when your eighth phone call wakes her up. God Bless her.
For those of you non-American readers, I come from the homeland of beer. Wisconsin produces most of the country's cheap, dirty and delicious beer. And our people reflect it. It's pretty normal to finish a pitcher or two with friends after work, go home and nap, then meet those friends for after-dinner drinks.
As a Wisconsin native, sometimes, I just want a beer. Yesterday was one of those days.
I went to our favorite downtown (and damn near only) drinking spot: Horeya. Its got that right mix of cheap prices, cold war-inspired interior design (pale yellow walls and dirty mirrors) and sad middle-aged Egyptian men. Needless to say, I love it.
I figured I would have a beer or two while waiting for Nisrin's call. This is where Egyptian time screwed me. 7:00 p.m. turned into 8:30 p.m. and I had drank four beers on an empty stomach. The waiter kept telling my friend in arabic that he loved me while I poured beer from my bottle into my friend's and flicked these little yellow beans at other patrons.
Every time my friend would suggest we get food I'd yell "No, Nisrin and I are gonna eat soup. I made it myself!"
8:30 p.m. rolled on into 9:30 p.m. and Egypt time had gotten me hammered.
Nisrin never called, I never ate any soup. I turned my phone off out of fear someone might call and discover how drunk I was at such an early hour. (May caught me anyway)
Sorry, there's no real moral to this one. Well, maybe: never trust Nisrin.
8 Comments:
I'm incredibly sorry. I am a bitch, a bitch who needs sleep. How about I make it up to you by making soup?
hahahaha! Megan - prize winning entry!
wohoow!
Wiscmail!? Come on!
Harass away: pahayden(AT)gmail(DOT)com
I look forward to reading your blog in full tomorrow at work! I hope Egypt is providing everything you hoped for (nachos and Lost reruns, to name a few).
i took down 4L after listening to the Packers lose to the Bears. The Bears fan and I were the only ones on the AUC campus at about 1:30am, though a casual listener would have sworn there were 3, judging by the noise.
Moral: that place is stellar.
now I know why you haven't answered my e-mails. You don't deserve nisrin's soup. Please don't get sucked in by Egyptian time when it comes to reserving a hotel for us!!!
Hey Megan,
Dody tells me I'll be your new housemate.
I take it you're a Packers' fan? Good, because I despise the Packers.
See ya soon.
lol this was a good entry. i can actually image that happening. don't worry, many people have fallen victim to nisrin's sleeping habits but i love her no less. can't wait to see ya this weekend.
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