Plate Glass

I have no concrete idea to express here other than a simmering dissatisfaction with things I know that I have to be careful talking about.

I have had the pleasure these past couple weeks, so to speak, of being drawn back into professional circles that are working in Egypt. It draws me back into touch with my profession. I get to remember that I am not simply unattached and wandering through North Africa and the Middle East. I get to remember the jokes, the culture, sometimes the cynicism. And indeed, I get to feel a little bit like I am at home and speaking with those of similar background.

But I find that my experience here is substantially different, though I would not necessarily expect it to be that divergent. Sometimes in discussion I sense hints of the 19th century British empire drifting in on the wind, and it turns my stomach sour. Not in a conspiracy theory sense, but from the observations that come from observing a culture and a people through the plate glass of an armored land cruiser. It is another world actually...a world of bleach washed vegetables from local markets, household staff, and minimal contact with the millions of people that almost live on top of each other in this congested and diverse city. It is like touching Egypt with rubber gloves and breathing through a mask. I suddenly find that I have stepped into a weird bubble that lives within Egypt without being part of it.

Am I implying that there is some kind of superior knowledge gained from riding on packed microbuses to the Western desert, spending time with great local friends, walking through garbage cities and inhabited graveyards, knowing the feeling of having an Egyptian country mother literally sticking chicken liver into your mouth with her hand? I am not sure. I hate to put on airs like that. And I hate to make it seem as though I am some nonparticipant observer through it all. I don't look at it through a lens of us and them, my Egyptian friends vs. my Western friends, or my "exotic" experience. It is just life, people toiling away in our human condition trying to make the best of it all. We just all happened to be born in different places. These are my friends, my experiences, my life. My experiences woven up here in Egypt with everyone else who lives here...truly lives here. Perhaps that is why I find that quiet voice in me taking offense at the comments made over drinks with perfectly matching napkins. Am I judging? I don't mean to. But I find myself feeling more at odds with the weird world I step into from time to time...the world to which I am "supposed to belong." This world of professionals seems to be a weird manifestation of how people behave when not at home. I find myself getting very defensive about Egypt.

Does this have a point? Probably not. I guess my most pertinent point is how are you supposed to connect with and reach out to a people, exchange perspectives, build relationships, through plate glass, gloves, and bleach?