Saturday, March 31, 2007

Quick Trip to Suez

"What's your name again?" asked my regular waiter at the cafe downstairs from my apartment.

"Marie." He looked confused. "Mary." He smiled.

"My name is Mohammed." I almost asked him if tomorrow was his birthday, but stopped short when I realized how stupid that was. It's like asking a guy named Jesus if tomorrow is his birthday on December 24th.

I eat at the same cafe a lot. I was just there the night before. Normally, I wouldn't have gone there two days in a row, but I was starving, my friends (all three of them) were out of town or busy, and I was too exhausted to hunt for somewhere different.

I'd gotten up super-early to go to the Suez Canal. It was annoying searching for the minibus to Suez, because one man sent me to the right, the next to the left. I almost gave up and went home to sleep, but my love for giant ships kept me going.

I'd looked, taken a few surreptious photos at great risk to my memory card and personal freedom. (It's a military zone.) I'd had a lemon juice at a hotel with a view, then headed directly back to Cairo to clean my apartment. The Hot Landlord was bringing a potential tenant by at 4 and once I'd moved in, I hadn't bothered to do any housecleaning short of occasional dishwashing.

The landlord never showed up, but my apartment is clean.


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