Thoughts After A Week in Cairo

1) It is one of the great ironies of life that Africa produces some of the best coffee in the world, and then everyone drinks Nescafe instant coffee. I have drunk more Nescafe in the past six weeks than ever in life. Where is the Ethiopian blend that Starbucks sells? Oh, right--it's at STARBUCKS, in the U.S. And here there is only Nescafe. I think that could come up on Judgment Day, guys.

One of the guys in my group was complaining about it, because it gets served at every mid-morning break, and I explained that you can't think of it as coffee, it will throw you off completely; you have to think of it as a drink unto itself. "Awesome, Nescafe!" I find that it's much more palatable that way. And honestly, if you put enough cream and sugar in anything, it will taste OK. Much like you can't taste the nail-polish-remover vibe of Egyptian vodka if you mix it with enough mango juice.

2) Bakshish. Bakshish means tipping, and EVERYONE gets bakshish. The culture of bakshish is what makes Egyptian life go round. You bakshish the guy who cleans the room, the guy who picks up the laundry, the guy who brings back the laundry, the guy who gives you directions on the street, the guy who walks you to your destination because you didn't bakshish him when he just gave oral directions, ad infinitum. I think the first gesture little kids learn here is the upward-turned palm: "Bakshish?" Sometimes we are just the Ugly Americans who refuse to bakshish, like on our field trip yesterday when this woman was standing at the door of the bathroom so she could push the button on the automatic hand dryer for you. We were all like, united we stand guys, there is no bakshish for that.

3) Insh'allah. It punctuates every sentence, because an Egyptian will never tell you he is going to do something without adding "Insh'allah" at the end--"if God wills it." So my friend Michael and I throw Insh'allah into every conversation now, whether it makes sense or not, and I may not be able to break the habit when I get home. "I wonder if it's used for puntuation, like Americans use 'like,'" I speculated one day, and Michael immediately launched into a whole riff on it: "And she was, insh'allah, 'Why you can't answer your phone?' and he was, insh'allah, 'Bitch please,' and she was insh'allah 'Oh hell no.' Insh'allah." Today Michael and I are going to sneak into the Hyatt to go swimming. Insh'allah.