Taking your pet out of Egypt

My most precious piece of cargo that is returning to the states with me, is Zooba.  The US is surprisingly very easy about bringing in pets from abroad.  Unlike other countries, like the UK, that require months-long quarantines, the US will let your pet in, as long as he has all his vaccines and a microchip.  It's wonderful!  The truth is, if Zooba had to be quarantined for 6 months, all alone, I don't know that I could have put him through that just to bring him with me.  I probably would have looked for someone to adopt him here, rather than traumatize him.  So I'm relieved that he gets to join us so easily!

We've been preparing him for this journey for a while, by getting him microchipped, vaccinated, and a passport. As advised by the US Embassy website, as you prepare for your trip, the week before you travel, you must obtain a health certificate issued by the pet's vet, and an updated rabies record or passport with all vaccinations.  Zooba's vet told us that this was all not really necessary, as Cairo Airport will basically just let the cat through because I have an American passport.  But he printed out a "Health Certificate" from a Word Document,  to bring to the Quarantine Department.  75 LE.

There are basically 2 ways to proceed after this.  You can just go to the Quarantine Department at the airport, which is apparently open 24 hours, and get the International Health Certificate (make sure it's in English!)  or you can think you're being smart by getting it done in advance and go to the General Authority for Veterinary, Quarantine Department in Dokki.  I thought, why not just get it done ahead of time, it won't take long, and it's right down the street from where I live.  Right.

This experience provides excellent insight on why Egypt is Egypt.

I brought the "official" Health Certificate made by the Vet, Zooba's passport, my passport, and Zooba, as advised by the Embassy website, to the small office.  They pulled out a document in Arabic that I needed to fill out.  I don't read or write Arabic.  I said to the woman, "I'm here because I'm a foreigner who is taking her pet outside of the country, and need this certificate to bring to the foreign country.  So why is there anything in Arabic to be written in the first place?" She filled it out for me, and they took his papers to fill out his English certificate, while I was sent to an adjacent room to get a series of 3 receipts that I can't read.  42 LE.

3 receipts of mystery

There was a little old man who took my documents to be photocopied across the hall.  I met him in the hallway, and he requested "a little something" for the photocopying and 3 stamps.  When I asked how much, he said 5 LE.  I pulled out a 10 (all I had), and expected 5 LE back.  "5 LE for just the stamps, and 5 LE for photocopying!"  I should have known better.

3 stamps for decoration

I went back to that first office, and was told to wait while the woman filling out my certificate got her morning dose of chit chat with her coworkers.  20 minutes later, she emerged with my certificate, adorned with the lovely stamp the old man sold me.  

Then she told me to go back to the office that gave me the 3 receipts, to get a stamp on the certificate, to make it official.  

it's official! no wait, not yet.

At this point, I was done with the Quarantine Department.  No one at any point had looked at Zooba, and I don't even know if it was actually necessary to bring him or not.  But before leaving, I was instructed to go "down the street" to some office of Agricultural and International Affairs (I think that is what I understood).  I had trouble understanding why I needed to do this.  This wasn't written on the Embassy website, so I wasn't even sure it was necessary.  But the government workers there all insisted that this needed to be done in order to be recognized by the Egyptian authorities at the airport.  

So I walked down the long street, found the building, and found the office where 3 women were busy making their morning breakfast.  I just had to wait.  A few minutes later, one woman took my certificate and gave me a stamp.  3.5 LE

But then, I had to go upstairs to another office to get someone else to stamp it.  I find the office and 3 more women are sitting chatting.  One stamps the paper.

Then tells me to go to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, on Ahmed Oraby St, (the other side of Mohandisin), to get it stamped again.  At which point I almost broke down in tears out of frustration.  I did ask her why this was all necessary, but got the same response, that it's required to leave the country with the pet.  I said, "What would happen if I was a foreigner that didn't speak Arabic at all?  None of this makes any sense, and I only need this to take the cat into the United States!" She said to me, "It's ok.  It's right here, right around the corner, just go to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.  Don't worry they're open really late, until 3pm, so just go and get it stamped there."

I huff and puff, and find a taxi, meanwhile poor Zooba is panting and freaking out in his carrier.  Took the taxi ride and realized that I had spent all my change and small bills already, so I needed to get change from a kiosk to pay my fare.  After buying water and other crap, the kiosk owner couldn't get me enough change for a 100 LE bill.  So I took the change he managed to give me to the next kiosk down the street and asked the woman for change.  "Are you going to buy something?"  "I just bought from that guy and he didn't have change, I just need some change for my taxi, please." "You mean, you bought from him and gave him business and you're coming to me for change?  No!  Go get change from him!"  "He doesn't have change, can you please just break my 20?"  "No, we don't have change here."  Curses and insults were flying in the air.  Finally went back to the taxi driver and gave him double the fare he deserved, because of course he "did not" have change either.  Curses and insults were flying in the air.

The Ministry of Foreign Affairs is a mad house.  They literally only take papers that you give them, and stamp them.  Certificates, translations, anything having to do with anything outside of Egypt has to come and get stamped there.  Men were lined up around the block, but when I saw that line, as much respect and love as I have for lines, I walked past it and told myself, there's no f-ing way I'm waiting in line with all these men right now.  Luckily, I found that women have their own, shorter line.  I approached the guard at the door, and asked him if I was in the right place and needed to even be here.  He took my certificate and after 10 minutes of fighting with some Libyans seeking stampage, he actually was the one and only person who gave me a break today, and led me right in to the counter, without waiting. I actually felt guilty about it. The woman behind the counter took my paper, and stamped it.  25 LE.  But I didn't have change.  And neither did she.  So she gave me extra money, and told me to go make change outside.  After that whole fiasco, there was so way I was going through that again.  So I said, "I already tried to get you change outside, this is all I have, just keep the extra 5 LE, I just want to get out here."  The woman started yelling, "Keep your money, I don't want your money, get out of here and go get change!"

SO I went back to the guard, who was mad at me because he did me a favor and let me skip the line, but then the woman and I were causing a scene inside.  I told him I needed change, gave him a 10, he gave me a 5, I went to the window, threw the 5 LE in her face, took my paper, and got out of there.

  

So here we are, 3 hours later, with a certificate that is written up in English and stamped with 30 other stamps, all in Arabic, that the USA Customs is not going to give a shit about.  The policemen at the airport aren't going to give a shit, either.  Because the reality is that Egypt is a country swarming with street cats that they don't want.  And keeping pets is a foreign concept to them, so it's not like someone's going to prevent Zooba from leaving with me.

my "official" certificate

The whole while, furiously, I kept telling myself that a) I should have done this with my husband, and b) I should have just done all this at the airport, like the Embassy said.  I would have avoided running around like a lunatic.  I highly doubt that any of these stamps were necessary, or that I needed to go anywhere after the Quarantine Department.  Nothing that came after that Department had anything to do with US Customs requirements, anyway.  And I'm sure that if anyone would have given me a hard time at the airport, I could have just paid my way out of it.  

But it's done.  Now we're set to travel, and this experience reminds me of just how much I love systems, and efficiency.  And America. 

Flight booked, I'm heading home!

With an end date in sight, it's perfectly normal that I would be experiencing feelings of nostalgia, and reminiscing of my time here.

Everything is so different.  I head back to NYC in just 3 weeks, and my mind is flooded with thoughts of what it will be like to move back home.  Will I find a job quickly?  What is the market like now?  Will I land a good job?  How will the apartment hunt be?  What furniture do I need? How exciting to see rain and snow again!  And to wear scarves and coats!  And to be able to shop!  And find iced coffee exactly how I like it, anywhere!  And then I think about my time here.  What have these 2 years meant to me?  What have I learned about myself?  How has my life changed?  Did I get what I wanted out of this break?  Did I fulfill that desire of being an expat and living abroad?  Do I consider this successful, or did I fail at not being able to handle living here?

In light of recent horrible goings on in the Middle East region, it's hard to feel proud or satisfied with being here.  Without getting into any politics, let's just say that this is one f*cked up mess of a place.  I was just speaking with one of my closest friends here, an American journalist, and she's been feeling down and depressed, too.  She arrived several months before I did, and had that same optimistic, excited feeling about Egypt and the Middle East.  But a couple months after I arrived, things started to fall apart, and they've only continued to deteriorate since.  So do I feel like I was a part of something new and great?  Unfortunately, no. Unfortunately, the sad truth is that I'm leaving with a bitter taste of resentment in my mouth.  I literally have no hope of things ever improving here (Egypt, specifically) because some people (everyone in power) are making way too much money, with things being exactly the corrupt and awful way that they are.

Politics aside, that doesn't mean that personally, this wasn't an incredible experience for me.  I did after all, get to live abroad for 2 years, which is something I always wanted to do.  And not only did I pull it off, but I was successful!  I taught English- the cliche Expat profession, and when I wanted a job in my career, I found one.  I got married!  I helped my husband start his company, and that too, was a rapid success.  I traveled to so many local cities in the region, and experienced new things, everywhere.  So overall, it was an experience well worth it.

But my reasons for moving back home are very basic and a lot less artistic and idealistic.  As an adult, I worked very hard in my career in NYC to achieve success, financial stability, and respect.  But it's very hard to achieve those things here, while working and living honestly.  As a woman, I love myself and my body, and I am not ashamed of that.  I love fashion and I love going for walks.  Those two things are not mutually exclusive in my world.  I also love being respected by my surrounding human beings.  As a human, I believe in public transportation, alternative energies, healthy food, equality.  As a future mother, I believe that when I do have children, they should live freely in this world and think independently.  They shouldn't be locked in a bubble and view only one small perspective of life.  As an American, I believe that if I work hard enough, I can achieve all the success I want.  And these are pretty much all the same reasons why people will do anything to come live in the US.  I am just forever grateful and lucky to be a citizen.

So September 13th is the day.  It will be bittersweet to leave.  But I'll get to start my life all over again, having learned to see things differently and appreciate everything.

From Miss to Mrs. (Getting Married in Egypt - Finale)

I recently received a message from a reader looking for more info about the marriage process, so I'm here to write about it!  I really did neglect this blog once I started my other one, and never finished explaining the unnecessarily complicated marriage process!

When one of the partners is not a citizen, the process is a bit different and interesting.  It requires the couple to legalize their marriage through the Ministry of Justice, as opposed to having a katib kitab at a mosque, or a church wedding.  As described in the previous entries, you're required to fulfill many steps before getting to the Ministry of Justice, including other paper work, a medical exam, and for the foreigner, a residency visa.

We went on a Saturday afternoon, at 9am.  Upon arrival at the Ministry of Justice, after being led through a maze of army tanks and barbed wire on your way there, we were brought up to a waiting lounge fit with drabby lighting, ugly tables, and possibly the most uncomfortable chairs one could possibly sit in. As soon as we arrived, we knew to get ourselves helped first the good old Egyptian way, with a "tip."  Our paperwork was the first to get processed, so we only had to wait 3 hours, instead of who knows how long.

We had my hubby's parents and cousin, and a few friends there with us.  It was packed with other couples; some questionable, but most were just refuges from Palestine, Syria, or Sudan, who also have to go through this process.  It just so happened that we were approached by one of the somewhat questionable couples, asking for one of us to be their witness because theirs was running late.  We looked at each other, then looked at them: that pretty, blond European girl, and that guy in a galabaya...  Our party responded with a unanimous, "no."

After about an hour and a half, with my patience getting thin, we learned that the head employee responsible for writing the contracts was just running a bit late to work.  Normal, right?  At least while we waiting for him to grace the whole office with his presence, someone was filling out our contract.  So that by the time he arrived, it was go time.  We all crammed into this tiny, dark office, with broken chairs, writing on the file cabinets, and piles of binders and paperwork everywhere.

The officer reviewed the contract's details with us, and asked me if I had any conditions to write into my contract.  This kind of marriage contract is like a prenup.  You can essentially enter whatever terms and conditions you want for your marriage and/or divorce.  It was in that moment that I learned some crazy, shocking things about marriage in Egypt.  The officer had suggested that some of the typical conditions women can write down are freedom to work, freedom to travel, freedom to……..[on-set breakdown]  WHAT!?  I need to request those freedoms?  I don't have them otherwise?  Do women in Egypt not have these rights!?!?  He explained that these are really old-fashioned requests and that it's no longer effective, but if I wanted to right it for the sake of writing it, we could.  Fine.  OK.  We did.

After that drama, we signed our contracts with pens and thumbprints.  My hubby had been warning me all week that if he started crying, I better cry with him too.  I don't know what happened to his end of the deal.  I picked up that pen to sign my name, and I just started bawling.

And just like that we were married.  That night, his parents threw us a party with the family to celebrate.

We then took it to a translator's office to then bring it to the US Embassy to have them recognize our marriage, and begin the visa paperwork.

It's been almost 2 years in Egypt!

Wow!  I almost forgot about this blog.  I read over some of my old posts, and feel so grateful for having written this blog!  What a beautiful and honest account of my time here.

It's really interesting to read the old posts about how happy I was, and how much I was enjoying living in Cairo.  I actually loved it here at some point.  I had met some interesting people, made some close friends, and everything was new and exciting.  I fell in love here!

I chose to come and live in Cairo. On July 28, 2012, I sent in my resignation letter at my last job in NYC.  I packed everything up, and 2 weeks later, on August 12, 2012, I arrived in Cairo.  And it was so cool to have had the guts to do that- just up and leave.  Cairo was so new, having just emerged from a revolution, and with my cousins all grown up, it was the first time I was experiencing it as an adult with them.

Now looking back, so much has changed over those 2 years.  I stayed, I got a job- literally the most stressful job I've ever had- ever, I got engaged, and then I got married!  And now we are going through yet even more changes, moving out of Zamalek, going back to Agouza, and hopefully returning to NYC soon.  Because sadly, I can't wait to get the heck out of Cairo!

Which is why I find it so interesting to re-read old posts about how much I loved this city.  What went wrong?  When did the switch happen?  When did I start to feel like one foot was already on a plane back to NYC?

It's the job.

I wanted the job badly.  Once I made the decision to stay long term, I knew that I had to work again... I mean, the vacation was technically over if I was staying put-- I couldn't keep living off of savings.  And I always did want to work in Interior Design, technically it is very different from Construction, so I wasn't exactly going back to my old job.  But I had all these ideas that working in Egypt would be easy.  Cairo is no NYC, so anything compared to NYC would be easy, right?  I mean, let's face it, Egypt is no leader in anything in the world.  It's not like Cairo is known for hard work, productivity, or wealth.  People don't flock to Cairo to come build a career.  Plus, I always heard about short work days, having half days in Ramadan, lots of days off, and flexibility when it came to taking vacations.  So when I took the job, I knew I wasn't going to get paid a lot, but I was expecting that I wasn't going to have to work very hard either.

Boy was I wrong.

I don't want to rant and complain like a spoiled brat about how much my job sucked, but let's just say that it literally sucked all the joie de vivre and excitement out of me.  For the stress and the hard work, I kept saying that I might as well go back to NYC, live in a nicer city, and make a respectable income, and i STILL wouldn't be working as hard.  I really think that I betrayed Cairo by learning to hate it, because of the job.

One of my closest friends in Cairo just left the company, and she tells me that leaving is like lifting a huge weight off her shoulders.  She says I'll start to enjoy Cairo again, and feel happy to be here.  So I'm really looking forward to that.  I don't know when we'll be going back to NYC, but at least not working at my job will allow me to love Cairo again, and enjoy it for the last few weeks/months that we're here.

Wow, 2 years.  I met my soul sister, aka sister wife, here in Cairo, and we still email each other every week since she went back to DC.  I used to have so much fun exploring this country... with her, with my hubby...  Now I go home so tired and stressed out from work that I need to just stay home and unwind.  Such a shame.  I really hope that I get to snap out of it and learn to love Cairo again, even for just a short while, before leaving.

Let that be a lesson that I should have stayed true to myself and what my year off was supposed to be about.  

Getting married in Egypt - Part 2.5

In the past week, while preparing for our last step towards getting legally married, we learned that it's possible to have someone from the Ministry of Justice come and perform our marriage at home. It's not yet 100% confirmed, but it opened up the opportunity to throw a party and make a celebration of it. Now our families have been really excited about arranging something for us, and I've been really excited to have an excuse to make another dress.

I hurried over to my tailor and fabric shop and got everything I wanted, including a commitment to finish the dress in a week. I chose to go for something a bit bridal this time, champagne and white. Up until recently, I struggled with the idea of being a bride and having to plan a wedding. I've always loved to host events and cater to people, but I've learned that when I'm the center of attention and the party is about me, I'm super uncomfortable with that. I also don't want to annoy people with chatter about my wedding. I don't think that anyone really cares what my centerpieces will look like, or how I will wear my hair, what my dress looks like, so I try to keep it to a minimum. But one thing I've really realized is that people do care. In fact, my coworkers and friends are offended if I don't share.

So lately, I'm finding myself more and more excited about it all. I learned that when I do talk about my wedding plans, people get excited and involved. So I try not to hold back as much. We finally met with our wedding planner, I know- finally, we have 5 months to go!, but they said we have plenty of time. I felt really comfortable discussing my ideas with them. They seem to get our theme and colors, and we all seemed to get along great, seeing that we spent 2 and a half hours at the meeting!

I'm feeling more and more excited about planning this wedding now, especially when I get email confirmations from friends from home and abroad. So far we'll have almost 20 friends from 4 continents attending, in addition to all our friends and family here.

Anyway, for this weekend's party, we've been running around looking at balloons, chocolates, cakes, flower arrangements, jars, ribbons, paper, you name it. It's going to be a fun little celebration!

Off to my first dress fitting!

Fashion Designer

While I was growing up, I developed a lot faster than other girls my age. When my mom and I went shopping at the mall, it was always pretty depressing, because I was too big for Limited Too, but I was too immature for The Limited-- I could never find anything. I was always stuck in this awkward limbo of not being able to buy cute clothes that fit. Out of that, I turned to making my own clothes, a trait that runs in both my father's and mother's blood line. My grandmother and my mother's aunt were both seamstresses, and my paternal grandmother was always making dresses, or at least having them made, and that gene was passed right down to me. Since adolescence, I was always sketching ideas for dresses and skirts, spent weekends browsing through patterns at the craft stores, and hovered over the sewing machine, as I created my very own clothes. Whenever I was bored, I'd beg my mother to take me to fabric stores, in search of the next skirt or dress I was set to make. I made dresses for the sweet 16s I attended, parties, graduations, etc. But eventually, that stopped when I went on to college.

Egypt is the land of customization, where you can pretty much design anything you want, and have it made specially for you. It is completely normal to have things like dresses, suits, jewelry, etc., custom made. And this has turned Egypt into one giant dreamland for me, where every idea, sketch, and dream I've ever had, can now become reality. It began with my engagement rings, which were completely designed and custom made by/for us. Then it was a birthday gift with my cousin's name made out of brass, and attached to a clutch. Then it was some furniture and slip covers for my couch. And now it has naturally evolved into dress making.

Women normally and regularly have dresses made for special occassions. The selection in stores is limited, and very expensive. So everyone has their tailor that their family goes to, and makes dresses. In need of a dress for my cousin's upcoming wedding, I had to have something special made. I found this amazing tailor, thanks to my coworker, who's work should seriously cost much more than it does. Every dress I've seen come out of that atelier is beautiful, and mine was no exception. I was initially very skeptical because of all the horror stories I'd been told: tailors don't finish well, tailors don't tailor well, you never get what you actually want, etc. I went with my sketches (at the time, my book had 18 sketches of dresses), and he got exactly what I wanted right away and was even able to show me pictures of similar dresses he had done. I was sold.

Then I went over to the wekala, the fabric market, where my eyes were opened up to a whole new world. My fiance very patiently bared with me, as I spent 2 hours gushing over all the fabrics and hunting for the right fabrics for this particular dress I was designing. It was overwhelming in a great way! All the beautiful fabrics, all the beautiful colors, all the beautiful potential dresses!! I was looking for that particular dress, but I was creating so many more in my head with all the selections in front of me.

After 2 weeks and 3 fittings, I left with a dress that was stunning. When I came out of the dressing room during one of my fittings, all the girls in the atelier stopped and gasped at the dress. In fairness, the stunning color has a lot to do with it, but the dress was gorgeous, he did such a great job. I couldn't wait to wear it! I took it a step further and had a brass belt custom made by a nearby craft shop to complete the look. The first time my fiance saw me in the dress at the wedding, he was stunned speechless.

So now I'm working with this tailor to bring all my sketches and ideas to life. The more I go to the fabric shop, the more I want to make. It's one of my favorite creative hobbies since childhood, and now that I'm teamed with a fantastic tailor, the possibilities are limitless.

Onto the next dress!

Getting married in Egypt, Part 2

The next step in the marriage process here, involved us going to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to get the notarized Affidavit certified. What that exactly means, I have no idea, but it's necessary nonetheless.

Early Saturday morning, we went to the office in Mohandisin to work on Part 2 of getting married in Egypt. The office was churning out certifications, and although there were 30 people of ahead of us when we arrived, we only stayed for all of 15 minutes. We gave the government worker our treasured Affidavit, and without even reviewing it, he stamped it, we paid 11 LE, and done. Totally anti-climatic.

So in preparation for Step #3, which is the actual marriage part at the Ministry of Justice, we got copies of our IDs and my resident visa made to head over to the government doctor for the dreaded medical exam. When I first read the words government doctor and medical exam, all I could think was, OMG, I don't want to get hepatitis! Government hospitals aren't necessarily the cleanest places, and I kept imagining all sorts of crazy scenarios of being given a blood test with a pre-used needle, cleaned with a cotton swab soaked in rubbing alcohol. I was freaking out. When we walked into the Family Medicine center, my heart was racing so fast, you could see it in my neck. Run by women, my fiance wouldn't even be able to talk his way out of us getting an exam.

So we had to suck it up and deal with whatever was to come. We waited for about 10 minutes until we were asked to pay 86 LE, and gave them all the copies of our IDs and photos. The admin filled out a few forms for us that we had to sign and finger print. First time I ever had to finger print a document! I made the mistake of nervously asking what we would actually have to do as part of the exam, but my fiancé elbowed me to keep quiet, because apparently paying for the paperwork was the extent of it. Then I realized, why on earth would they go further than necessary and actually examine us, when they could just take some money and fill out a piece of paper instead? Duh, TIE. And thank God! Because it spared me of having to deal with any refusals of a blood test!

The admin then handed the paperwork to whom I assume is the head doctor of that facility, and she sat us in an office where she asked us a bunch of questions about each of our medical histories. She was very sweet, and the whole process took no more than 10 minutes. She told us about how she lived in Canada, and was happy that we would be getting out of Egypt during these crazy times. When all was said and done, she gave us each a certificate with our photo stapled to it, and congratulated us on our way. 25 minutes in and out. Part 2 took 1/6 the amount of time that we spent at the US Embassy in Part 1!!

Next and last step, the Ministry of Justice. I have one week left as a bachelorette!