Clean, but still dirty

I take a shower every morning. I wake up, I take a shower, I loofah my skin and wash my hair. I scrub away the dirt and dust from the day before. And at night, I rinse-off of my face, hands and feet before I go to bed. But still, all that time in between, I feel dirty.

It has little to do with the garbage piled up on the streets. It has nothing to do with the litter and the dog shit that I consciously avoid on the sidewalks. It is not because this city is polluted, or dusty, or dirty. It's because it is filled with street pigs who make me feel dirty.

You see, I'm victimized because of the way I was born. Because I have the audacity to walk through the city streets with my calves, my thighs, my butt, my back, my breasts, my arms, my neck, my face, my hair- all the things that come with the biological package for a human being of the female sex. All those things that have existed since Eve- since we were created. And yet, for some reason when I go out, it's as if I were the first woman to ever walk the earth. Somehow it is still shocking that I exist.

My walk to work is a mere 15 minutes through my fantastic, super expensive, expat-filled neighborhood. But no matter how gorgeous the apartments or how rich the residents are, the streets are like all other streets in Cairo: filthy. As I walk with my headphones blasting, I try to ignore the stares and comments from the street pigs. The poor, ignorant, classless men that litter the streets. They service this neighborhood: the bawabs, the delivery boys, the parking attendants, the shop keepers. They ruin life for women in Cairo. They fuck the shit out of me with their eyes, and follow me as I walk past, muttering hisses and kisses, and praises for my beauty. If they meet me through a narrow passage, they take the opportunity to squeeze through with me, to brush up against me. Rub up against my breast, my butt, my arm, whatever they can get. They take whatever piece they can get.

I always imagine that when I'd find myself in these situations, I'd be so enraged with fury that I would attack them: yell, scream, punch, kick. But instead, what happens is that I am so humiliated, I just run away. I retreat silently, feeling so unjustly violated, and wanting to avoid any negative attention being brought to myself. I just scream inside my head, repeating over and over again, "How dare he?"

For those 15 minutes a day, I've undone the shower, the deodorant, the perfume, the makeup. I've become filthy again, having been raped on my way to work. Every.Single.Day. No matter how thoroughly I scrub myself, or whether I'm wearing Chanel or Chloe perfume. No matter if I use organic deodorant, or the regular stuff, it never seems to remove the filth that I encounter on the streets. I am disgusted. If only these street pigs could be eliminated with the swine flu. I think Egypt slaughtered the wrong ones when that outbreak occurred years ago.

Harassment is not a new thing in Egypt. It is a sick and pathetic part of society that hasn't changed for as long as I can remember. Instead of changing society, women have learned to cope by avoiding the streets. Living their lives from one climate controlled environment to the next. But I refuse to do that. I refuse to let classless, ignorant animals dictate how to live my life, it goes against everything I ever taught myself. I will not hide and spend my life indoors. I will not sacrifice my life for these pigs.

I've had to modify my wardrobe and eliminate my skirts, dresses, and all my favorite things to wear. I've had to adopt a whole new style of dress (which is so sad and disappointing), for these street pigs. I've had to change what I love to wear, and avoid taking taxis, and be driven almost everywhere by my fiance. Yet it is still not enough. It is still not enough because I like to walk. I like to go outside; to exist outside my apartment. And why should that right be taken away from me? Why shouldn't I walk wherever I want? I did in NYC. I did in Paris.

I am not the problem. My clothes are not the problem. But I just can't seem to get the stench out.

Heading home...

Apologies for totally slacking on writing posts. There is a complete correlation between my happiness and the volume of writing that I produce. It is amazing how little I need to write when things in my life are good and happy. It almost feels like a chore. And at the same time, I'm not sure that anything I write is relevant anymore. I feel no desire nor need to share my experiences anymore. It's so strange...

I started this blog with the intention of documenting my year off and my year of random travels, and how that would (hopefully) change me. But then I settled in one place (I still did manage to travel some), and then my life completely changed so rapidly. And now I'm no longer a tourist in Cairo, and I'm not sure what my timeline is going to look like in terms of where I'll be living and when...

But for now, I'm going back home for a 6 week break. I'll be stopping in Paris and Lyon for 2 weeks to visit friends and family first. Then I have a day layover in London where I'll meet up with another friend before heading home.

I'm so looking forward to this break, although it is coming at a pretty inconvenient time for me. With having just started my job and getting engaged, it's not exactly ideal to be disappearing for so long.

But I'm not going to complain. I just see it like I am extremely lucky to have the luxury of taking time off every few months. See ya in NYC!

Vacation over.

I just landed my dream job, and I still pinch myself to make sure it's real.

Right around the new year, I had really begun to shift my thinking about my year-off, my future, and my stay in Egypt. I originally had this grand plan to travel around the world and then settle down a year later, somewhere, in a career/job that fulfilled my passions in life. I didn't have any ideas as to where I would go or what I would do, but I vowed to allow enlightenment to come randomly. But Egypt felt right once I arrived. Now, 6 months later, it still feels right. I love my life here; I love my friends, my family, the weather, and my social life. I honestly haven't felt this happy with my life in years. So maybe I didn't travel anywhere else (although I did make trips to Paris, London, and Peru), but this happiness is exactly what I was hoping to find in this year off. That's why for a while now, I haven't felt like I am on vacation or here as a tourist, and I've been looking to find a semi-long term solution to staying in Cairo.

The teaching job eventually got on my nerves, as I felt like I was wasting my time on students who barely put any effort into learning, and had zero knowledge about the world around them. We'd go through our workbooks, and they wouldn't have a clue as to who the Beatles were, or even Mahatma Gandhi, or James Bond. They're all college educated students, but they live in this sheltered, naive, pathetic bubble. I couldn't get through to them, and I was getting nothing out of the job in return-- especially financially. I had had enough. It was never going to be a career change anyway. It was only ever meant to give me something to do during the day.

So I began to think about semi-long term solutions to staying in Cairo. I'd need a real job that paid, so that I would stop digging into my savings. I wanted to have a normal life again. And although I had a fear of selling-out, I started researching and applying to construction and development companies. Despite the terrible economy here, there is still a significant amount of construction around the city. But thanks to the terrible economy, those construction companies aren't hiring. And I mean that literally.

I was cranky for almost all of January, and my boyfriend was such an angel for putting-up with me putting myself down. He's an incredible person: extremely patient and caring, he's the love of my life, and knows me better than anyone. And at the risk of sounding too corny, like an angel, he saved me. He noticed that every time we went out, I would have to comment about the design of the space. There's a hot new trend of restaurant/bar pop-ups that have really attractive looking spaces that just lure me in. We go out all over Cairo, and I always talk about the paint colors, the materials, the furniture, or the packaging. (Never really the food because we've already established that the food sucks in Egypt).

So he was the one who suggested that I work in interior design. Obviously, I have a passion for it, and it's not too dissimilar to what I've been doing, it just has a more exciting focus. Despite the fact that he and most of his friends work in interior design, I really didn't think it was possible for me to do that. I didn't think I could work in Egypt, in Arabic, and learn a whole new job at the same time. I thought I would only be appealing to construction companies with my strong resume. Interior Design? That was just on my Inshallah To-Do List.

Of course he knew which company designed all of my favorite places here and told me to just take a look at their website and see if they may interest me. I must have sat on their website for at least half of the day. They are owned by women who have fabulous taste, one is from Canada, the other went to NYSID, and they are located in Zamalek. I had to work there. He had contacts at all the other design firms except this one, but this is the only one I applied to. All I had as far as a contact there was the generic careers@... email that all companies post on their sites. AKA - the email address to no one. But I wrote to it anyway. I wrote the most elaborate, heart felt, honest email, about how their spaces made me want to stay in Egypt, and make me feel at home here. I went on to tell them about my move, my career switch, and how there's no place I'd rather work for, than them. It took me a day to write that email, and all I could do was cross my fingers, but I knew that no one would even see the email, let alone read it.

The next day I got a phone call.

The night before my interview, my girlfriends and I went to another one of the spots they designed, Aperitivo, for "research." The first interview was great and I was very optimistic. I knew to wait 2 weeks for the partner to return from a business trip to hear back. During that time, I wouldn't discuss a single detail about the interview with anyone except for my boyfriend. Not my roommates, not my friends, not my family. I felt too superstitious to jinx myself.

And then I was called in for a 2nd interview. That interview lasted only 20 minutes. They didn't have many questions for me, and I felt extremely nervous. Something felt weird. I went home and cried all afternoon, rethinking every detail of the interview, feeling terrible that for the first time, I didn't rock an interview, and I wouldn't be offered a job. I felt so bad and so sorry for myself, that I surrendered and told my boyfriend that even though I wasn't getting the job, we should still go to the fondue restaurant that we were saving for my celebration. I was really mean to him that day. (sorry.)

Two days later, I got the call. And the job. And we went to that fondue restaurant to celebrate.

I started 3 days later, and so far, it has been so exciting, so challenging, and everything I wanted. I walk to work, and my office is beautiful and old and full of character. My bosses are fabulous late-30s-something women who I really admire. The staff is all about my age and speak a mixture of Arabic and English in the office. There's even an American-Egyptian girl from Minneapolis sitting next to me, and she also lives around the corner from me. My Arabic is improving, my skills are expanding, my CAD memory is returning, my clients are motivating. It is such a freakin cool job. It is literally everything I ever wanted to do. Meet a client, visit a space, come up with design ideas, draw them out, watch the space transform.

My job is so freakin cool and my boyfriend is a hero for encouraging me to pursue it.

Sakkara

Sakkara is one of the most amazing places I've visited in Egypt.

I've been itching to get out of the city and take some day trips to explore parts outside of Cairo. Of the various attempts previously made, this was our first successful adventure, which made it all the more exciting. I packed a picnic, set my playlist, and off we went.

Located just under 45 minutes from Zamalek, Sakkara is a nearby destination to really make you feel like you're in a completely different country. Once you pass Haram, or the pyramids, it's about 25 minutes down a 2-lane road that parallels the Maryouteya Canal. Parts are paved, parts are not. The streets are lined with small, 2-story brick homes, with the occasional shop here and there. Everything takes on the same shade of sand-colored beige, from the canal, to the road, to the homes. The only break in the monochromatic scene is the random accumulation of plastic bags and bottles that litter the walls of the canal.

Life is quieter here, and much slower. It really reminded me of the balad, or the country, where I used to spend parts of my summers with my grandmother. Of the few women I did see, most of them were cleaning large platters outside their homes, all were completely covered with the niquab. Chickens and dogs were roaming around homes, and children were playing in the street. I have to confess that I wasn't expecting to see this at all. I had just imagined that the Sakkara site was going to be located outside of Cairo, but still resemble Cairo along the route. But this was straight-up balad.

As we turned off the main road and towards the site, we found the land is lush with beautiful palm trees. There is a mixture of both large villas and small farmhouses scattered between the trees, but it is all very serene. When we finally arrived at the site, it was a ghost town. We felt like the only two there, and maybe we were accompanied by a total of 20 other tourists. Just 20! It was really sad to see how empty it was, and how few tourists are visiting the country. What is possibly sadder was the accumulation of litter around these stunning, ancient sites. For God's sake Egypt, tourism is (was) your livelihood. Treat these sites with better respect!

Sakkara is a massive site that was once a necropolis, or the graveyard, for the Ancient Egyptians. They resided and flourished in Memphis, the city to the East of the Nile River, but were buried in Sakkara, the West of it. What's been uncovered today is said to hardly even be 10% of what still remains buried in the sands. But what we did see, and what exists there, is absolutely incredible. This site is better than the pyramids of Giza, and perhaps better than Luxor as well. Yet it is completely underrated and often unvisited by tourists, which is such a shame given its close proximity to Cairo.

Sakkara is home to the oldest pyramid on earth, dating back to 2800 BC. Several pyramids still lie throughout the site, with what's assumed to be hundreds of tombs still buried beneath. From a peak on the site, not only can you see the expanse Sakkara site, but you can also see as far out to the Giza pyramids, and the pyramids of Darshur as well. It's breath taking. With the help of our fantastic guide, we toured various tombs belonging to the Architect, Manicurist, Hair Stylist, Accountant, etc., of the King. The details carved into the walls of the tombs reflected the person's wealth, all telling us stories of their lives and hobbies, over 4,000 years ago. It is truly remarkable and left me open jawed and "wow"-ing the entire time.

But perhaps the best part of the trip was the Serapeum, a network of arched tunnels that buried the bulls that were assumed to be God-like. Solid granite sarcophagi no smaller than the size of my bedroom enclosed their mummified bodies. This tomb is stunning. It used to be open privately, upon request, at the cost of $1,000. However in effort to encourage tourism, this site was opened to the public just 2 months ago. We felt very lucky to have visited it.

Sakkara needs a full day to really get the most out of the site. And I would imagine that going in the summer heat must be close to unbearable, because it is all out in the open in the desert, and there is a lot of ground to cover. Our trip couldn't have been more perfect. The weather was sunny, breezy, and beautiful. After hours of trekking through the sands, we sat for a picnic made by yours truly, which was just the perfect way to wrap up a perfect day. I highly encourage everyone to visit the site.

This is Egypt.

The other day, my (Egyptian) friend and I were driving out to see The Life of Pi in IMAX, out in 6th of October city. It's about a half hour from Zamalek without traffic. We were joined by a Colombian expat friend of mine.

As they had the opportunity to familiarize themselves, he and I had to ask our favorite question, Why are you here? As an Egyptian born and raised here, he has his obvious curiosities. Why on earth would someone want to come and live here, when we (Egyptians) are all trying to get out? It's one thing for me to be here, obviously I have roots and family here, so Egypt is not at all foreign to me, it's my second home. But a real expat, one with no ties at all... what brings them here? It's our favorite question to ask our friends.

She answered in one of the nicest ways I've ever heard someone speak about Egypt. She's lived in many places, including Colombia, DC, Eastern Europe and England. But she's been in Egypt for 2 years now, and has no plans to leave anytime soon. She said that what she loves about living in Egypt, is that living here is like having a real, human experience all the time. Being in Egypt, although it has its Western influences and imports, is not like being in the West. There isn't that reliable routine that everyone has where they wake up, head to work, come home, and repeat. Where things have been streamlined and perfected, and problems in the grand scheme of things, aren't really problems at all. Every day in Egypt is completely random, almost so that nothing is reliable. And that's why the Egyptians' favorite term is "Inshallah", which means God Willing. When you make plans with someone, they will always say, 'OK, see you, Inshallah,' because God knows what circumstances you'll be faced with on your way to those plans!

Egypt has almost all of the luxuries of a first world nation, without the structure to really support it. So maybe you won't have hot water or power for a few hours. Traffic is pretty much always bad, but also always random, so you have to factor this into your schedule. You will not travel 10 miles in 20 minutes, it will likely take you 1 - 1-1/2 hours. There's one time a week when traffic is at a minimum: Friday mornings right before and after prayers. There isn't the luxury of reliable public transportation, in fact, there barely is any public transportation, and what exists is awful. You won't find all your favorite foods imported and stocked in the grocery stores. Grocery stores are not going to have all fruit available in all seasons. Your elevator just may not work today. Or for the next three days. It will work again when it gets fixed. You can't exactly walk around in a skirt, even if it's knee length. Hell, even if you're wearing pants and a veil, you will be harassed on the streets. Your bawab will Inshallah take your shirts to the dry cleaner when he has time. The salon may be open, but the girls who do hair and sweet will be here in an hour. You come back in an hour, another 30 minutes. You come back then, yeah she's not coming today.

So her point was that living in Egypt, while it's difficult, it connects you to the real world. The real world where everyone is not living an easy, robotic life like we do in the States or Europe. It's not boring here, there's always something going on, something going wrong, and you really need patience to deal with it. You really have to be able to take a deep breath and just accept that life here is random.

People here have real things to complain about. There is a significant population here that struggles to eat or work. The police don't really exist to enforce the law. Car insurance? But this is a service driven society, where labor is super cheap. You can have anything delivered at anytime, including groceries, drugs (medicinal and recreational), food, etc. Just call and it gets delivered. Most homes have a cleaning lady, some have drivers and cooks. The reality is, if you make money, you can have a great life here.

Our other American friend has coined the terms,

"TIE" - This is Egypt, and "TIA" - This is Africa.

We use them whenever we find ourselves super frustrated with any particular situation. Like when we travel across Cairo to see a movie, only to discover upon arrival that it only plays at 10:30am each day (NOT what their website shows!). Or when I booked the Life of Pi tickets at the IMAX theatre online, in advance, only to show up and be denied entrance because the voucher shows I paid, but it didn't attach the seats to the order. (So we ended up being credited and given complimentary tickets to see it the second time, when we had this wonderful conversation). Or when we sat in a Starbucks-like cafe to order one of their 5 fresh juices, only to learn that none of our juices are available. Actually, neither is half of their menu.

We take a breather and laugh,

"TIE Ladies. TIE."

In the classroom...

Class starts at 5:15pm. Students take their time gracing me with their presence. I begin at 5:40 when I have accumulated a whopping 4 out of 13 students. 2 more show up at 6:15. Students don't want to learn grammar or vocabulary. Actually, they tell me how and what to teach them. They want idioms. They want me to spell out the things they heard watching American TV shows and movies. They want to know when they are going to speak like I do. Except, they don't want to learn grammar or vocabulary. The ones who miss the excusable 3 (out of 9) classes just show up at the final and ask me when they will speak like I do. They don't do their homework. They come to 6 classes, late, and then they get upset with me when they fail their exams and I recommend they repeat the level.

I don't teach here to help students cheat their way to a certificate so that they can "officially" claim they speak English.

Students tell me that the reason they keep repeating the same mistakes is because they never get the chance to practice speaking English in their lives at home or with friends. They explain this to me in Arabic without even trying to incorporate a word of English. And then when I ban Arabic from the class and conduct the class completely in English, they gang around me at the end, telling me it wasn't fair, they didn't understand anything, and I need to re-explain it all in Arabic.

I've learned that Egyptian students are taught to memorize in school. They aren't given the freedom to think creatively or use their imaginations. They memorize, recite, and replicate on their exams. My student told me that her teacher used to hit her whenever she didn't memorize the vocabulary, or didn't say things correctly. But he let you learn to say 'wiZ,' instead of 'wiTH'?

Cheating is also completely normal and overlooked. My Egyptian friend explained it best. The mindset is, "Hey we're friends right? You're going to help me with this exam. What did you get for #5?" He told me that when they take their end of the year exams, the teachers get shuffled around to supervise other classes- not their own, to prevent bias or cheating. Except those supervisors don't have anything at stake with the students, so they often assist with the cheating anyway. One went as far as delivering the hand written answers to a student's friend in another class. It's all just... helping a friend.

They can get all the homework and sentences right, but when I close the books and try having a conversation, they look completely lost. They have all the vocabulary and grammar, but they can't think outside of "go to the cinema," when I ask them what they did last weekend, or what they will do this weekend. They also only seem to eat chicken, because that's the only thing they ever eat for lunch when I ask them.

I teach an English conversation class each semester. This is the kind of class that isn't focussed on learning grammar, but rather, practicing conversation skills. I am initially optimistic that I can use this as an opportunity to give them creative freedom, and an ability to think outside the box, since I now know that this isn't the way that they're taught in school. I find that they benefit most when the class is structured around a debate. Egyptians love to debate and talk about anything controversial. It's almost torturous to find a topic they all want to discuss. Then even moreso, when I choose the topic and they can't find any arguments because they are not particularly for or against the topic- depending on which side I assigned them to. We sit in awkward silence for a while, despite my many attempts to suggest a way to get things going. Finally, someone mentions politics or Morsi, and they are off in a heated debate. In Arabic.

I made a list of very controversial topics to debate- controversial enough for the US, and especially for Egypt. My fellow teachers had a lot of success with their students. I was really excited to hear how open and intellectual their students were about the topic of gay marriage and adoption. I couldn't wait to test it out on mine and see how they would respond. They denied that gays even exist in Egypt. They denied that gay men often go and get married to women and hide their secret lifestyle from their wives and families. They didn't care that it must be really difficult to live that kind of secret, double lifestyle. They absolutely refused to discuss it further, as it is "disgusting and against their religion." I stormed out of the class and into the Admin's office, really letting my New York out that day. I used every bit of colorful vocabulary to express how fed up I was, and to let them know that I was no longer going to be teaching those students anymore.

The class before the exam, instead of reviewing grammar or addressing questions the students have, they ask if I could tell them exactly which questions will be on the exam, and if they can go home early. By the end, I just want to go home early, too.

It's really rewarding when the rare, one or two students come into class and actually get it. I can see how much they are benefitting from me, and I clap whenever they get a challenging sentence correct. They move on to the next level, and I ask to be their teacher again in the next semester.

But I think the most important thing I've learned from teaching, is how hard it is to be a teacher. I really have developed a deep respect for teachers. It is a very hard job: demanding, draining, not always fulfilling or rewarding, and they (we) are so underpaid. A good teacher makes all the difference to a student's education, and I had some fantastic teachers in my life. I still remember how and what they taught me, both in and out of the classroom. They shaped my life and guided me to where I am. But teachers need more respect and more pay. Supporting a teacher means supporting the student. And as future (or current) parents to our future students, we really need to do something to support the teachers who will ultimately shape our children's futures.

Cairo food scene, pretty sad

I've never traveled to any place where the food has been so, ehh.

I'm a self-proclaimed foodie who not only kept a food blog in NYC, but takes cooking classes in every place I visit. I love food.

I ate my way through Thailand, with its delicious pads, curries and flavors. China was one great meal after another, introducing me to dim sum, hot pots, XO sauce, and Paris Baguette. In Vietnam I fell in love with pho and summer rolls. India, the land of curries, naan breads, and how can I forget my all time favorite, pani puri? Morocco had me salivating with its couscous and tajines, and that fabulous Mechoui Alley in Djemma al Fna. I tried camel in Morocco, kangaroo in Australia, beef hearts, roasted chicken, and ceviche in Peru, and I only need to mention "France and Italy," to summarize their selection of deliciousness. Whenever I travel, I love to explore cultures through their food.

But here in Cairo, I am living in the world capital of mediocrity. Everything here is just OK, and the cuisine holds no exception to that standard. Most restaurants will try to get the general idea of the dish they are reproducing, but without trying to make it a great dish. It's just OK. Although it is a lot like NYC where you have so much competition for all these restaurants and international cuisines, unlike NYC where everyone is trying to be the best, Egyptians are OK with just OK.. This is a city where every restaurant makes the most delicious sounding food, and usually in fabulously designed spaces, and then it is presented in front of you in the saddest way.

Paninis aren't pressed, and aren't oozing out cheesy goodness. Macaroons are stale. French fries are soggy. I haven't walked into a single bakery where anything was freshly baked. Every pastry has looked sad, tired, and old. Baguettes are either too hard and crumbly, or too soft and chewy. Pastas are always overcooked and swimming in pools of cheese sauce completely lacking in flavor. Pizzas are bland, bagels are no better than Lender's bagels. Cakes are all the same, spongy, blahness; and popcorn in the movie theaters is always stale and under seasoned. I once was super excited to find my favorite brunch, Eggs Benedict, only to receive a piece of salmon and hard boiled eggs on 2 stale pieces of baguette with mayonnaise on the side. I was heart broken. My girl friend and I were so excited to have some Mexican food, but when the food arrived, it was just OK. I spent so much money on the tiniest, blandest sushi rolls. And yet, all these restaurants have the audacity to charge a ridiculous amount, for little quality. I imagine that the only reason why these restaurants and shops are getting away with it is because of the snobbism associated with, look, I just bought a 30 LE pastry, and I don't even know what this is supposed to taste like, so it's all OK to me.

Although there are a handful of great restaurants that I frequent on a cycle, generally, dining out in Cairo is one continuous let down after another. It's my fault for getting my hopes up, but I just love to go out for dinner. It's unfortunate that I'm not finding things held to any kind of standard that is either acceptable, or appropriate for the prices they're charging. I'll pay a lot for a good meal, but it's not OK to pay a lot for crap.

Cairo is such an expensive city to go out in, more than NYC. When you consider what the average person makes here to what the average restaurant charges, it's insane. Some prices are comparable to what we pay in NYC, so just imagine how much this is for the average Egyptian! But at home, you could get a great meal at any price. And more often than not, the best meals are the cheap ones! In the East Village, I met up with my girl friend every couple of weeks at our favorite 50% off sushi restaurant. We'd spend $10 for 3 rolls, soup, and salad. Here, I spent $30 or 200 LE for blahness. Or there was Smac, or Artichoke Pizza, or Mamouns, or curry row on 6th street, all with their fantastic $8 meals. Or how about the salad bar at Whole Foods, or dim sum at my favorite, Jing Fong, down on Elizabeth St, that's never more than $15 pp. Or pho on 32nd, another $8 bowl of noodle soup. I mean, the options were endless, and I never had to spend a lot of money at all for a great meal. But in Cairo, the food generally sucks, and it isn't cheap.

These sentiments are equally shared with my fellow expat friends, and this is often a topic of conversation as we are eating a disappointing meal. Just imagine how it may feel to be away from home and so looking forward to that favorite dish, only to be served something that doesn't even resemble it, let alone taste like it. Going out is such a huge part of having a social life, and thank God the company is always good, because the food is just another depressing let down after another, especially when the bill comes.