Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

It has been quite a while since I have written. I was going to write something detached, maybe intelligent and observational about the world at large, but I suppose life has caught up with me for the moment. There are a million interesting things happening in the world now: the continuing attempt for Middle East peace, China's power plays on Japan, or the Taliban meeting with Karzai. But honestly, I have just watched it go by the past two weeks without making a comment.

Almost two weeks ago now I had to put my sixteen-year-old dog, my best friend, to sleep. It just about killed me. In fact, it was to date the hardest decision I have ever made. But through the experience I have learned just how much people can help, and why good friends truly matter. I felt myself caught in a network of support when I needed it the most. Friends and family brought me through to the end. I realized that I am not all alone in Cairo.

The women of Cairo have been the best experience of the past year. They open their heart to you quickly and with more warmth than you would expect. They are true friends who open their whole lives to you, plan surprise birthday parties, listen to your complaints, bring you fresh lemons and make you tea when you are sick. Indeed, one of my friends here called me ten minutes before the veterinarian arrived at my house to put my dog to sleep. She was close by and thinking of me. Without hesitation she came to the house and was there with me as I experienced the death of my friend. She literally held me up, and I literally cried on her shoulder. In my toughest moments, the women of Cairo have been here with me, a pillar of support.

I went away to Sharm el Sheikh last week, somewhat appropriate for the 6th of October holiday. I always find myself listening to stories about people's lives. I enjoy it very much, just as I enjoy smoking sheesha and watching people wander by in the street. I like to think of the thousands of years people have been wandering, carrying on their lives, in these old Egyptian cities. There are layers of humanity and existence across Cairo...literal mountains of refuse from habitation continuing years upon years. In Sharm I was lectured for what is probably the 20th time about Islam and the four wives discussion. I do find it amusing how men argue about how much women prefer this anyway...oh, the first wife will help him choose the second because it is both in their best interest. While this may be the occasional case, these aren't the stories I hear from women. After my lecturer departed the scene a woman started talking to me about our conversation. "Let me tell you about men and love in Egypt" she said with fire in her eyes. "My sister had a medical problem when she was younger and she knew from the doctor that she could never have children. She told her husband this before they married and he said it was fine, he needed no children. He loved her, that was all he needed. But after twenty years he told her he wanted children and he married a second wife. My sister cries every day." Then she told another story. "I used to be married and I had my first daughter. But my husband was not good and his family was from the south (Said). He told me he was divorcing me when I was still pregnant with twins. He just left. I was so angry at him and the situation, and there was no way for me to take care of more children. I got an abortion. Now I have my job and I will never marry again. The men say they love me but I do not care. I want only my job, and my daughter. I will never love again."

Today, back in Cairo, I received the ashes from my dog's cremation. It was hard to see my dog reduced to dust...like the dust and sand in the air of this ancient civilization, long obsessed with death. It was one of the clearest days I have seen in Cairo. From the Citadel I could see clear across the city to the pyramids of Giza. I rarely see them on the skyline thanks to the haze. Every time I see them it amazes me to think that they are more than four thousand years old. So we all continue living, layers upon layers of human lives, people literally living in graveyards, people living in the trash. They used to say that this was the mother of the world.