Dream, Plan, Travel, Repeat.

Is there a word in the English language that means “half-terrified, half-thrilled”? If so, I really need to incorporate it into my vocabulary.I canceled my October 1 ticket from Cairo to NYC yesterday. That’s canceled, not rescheduled. For the first time in my life, I’m overseas without a scheduled flight home. And that’s where this half-terrified, half-thrilled feeling comes in.I had the same blend of emotions when I first purchased my tickets for this round-the-world journey. After finalizing my plans with a travel agent around 2 in the morning, I hung up the phone, checked the e-mail confirming my $2,800 purchase of 6 months of travel insurance and flights to Asia, Africa, and the Middle East, and suddenly felt like I was going to throw up, pass out, or do both. I don’t know about the rest of you, but that tends to be my initial reaction to these kinds of huge, unknown life events. But then I spent the rest of the night lying awake in my bed, thinking about temples, forts, tropical beaches, and deserts, and feeling like I was on the brink of something incredible. Deep down, I knew that everything would be fantastic in the end.Really, I’ve known I would cancel this ticket for ages. I mentioned my plan to tons of people. I even accepted a teaching job that would last beyond my departure date. But when the time came to call my travel agent and finally cancel the ticket, I procrastinated. It’s one thing to casually talk about a life plan, another to actually take the first step toward realizing it. But, as I’m starting to understand, everything suddenly feels right, even pre-destined, when you do and you even wonder why you worried so much in the first place. (Now if I could only learn to skip the worried stage!)So, you ask, when do you plan to return to America? I have no idea. I’m applying for graduate school this fall, so I’ll need to return to the States (or move to England!) around August 2008 or so. But the time before that is a big blank page in my life calendar. Maybe I’ll ride a camel across North Africa. Maybe I’ll sell steaming cups of shai or tell fortunes to pedestrians in the streets of Amman, Damascus, and Istanbul. Maybe I’ll become a bellydancer. Maybe I’ll join a traveling circus and explore all those countries in Central Asia ending with “-stan” that no one knows anything about. Or maybe I’ll never leave Cairo, a city that I’m beginning to regard as an immense black hole for foreigners who planned to “just see the Pyramids” and then find themselves living like a local years later. In any case, as I realized on the night I purchased my tickets, I’m sure that the adventures awaiting me will be fantastic.

•    I’m beginning to suspect that at least 90% of the men here are named Mohammed. In my cell phone, I have the numbers for three Mohammeds, whom I have re-named “Mohammed,” “Mo,” and “Hammed” so that I can keep them straight. And it’s not just difficult for me—the ubiquitous name seems to cause problems for Egyptians as well. More than once, when I’ve asked for a Mohammed, the response is “Which Mohammed?” But, despite the complications that arise, the name remains, for obvious reasons, extremely popular. On a film set recently, I met a young Egyptian extra whose character was pregnant. I touched her stuffed belly and jokingly asked, “What will his name be?” She thought about it for a moment, and then smiled and said, “Mohammed.” Being a fan of originality, I protested, and she budged a bit: “Ok, Yusef Mohammed.” Then I asked her what her last name was, so we could try out the baby’s full name. Her last name? Mohammed.•    At my hotel, I saw a guy (whose name is Mohammed, incidentally) playing the “Arab” version of Mario Bros. It looks about the same as the one we play in the US, except Mario is dressed like a Saudi, with a long white robe and red-and-white checked head-covering.•    Renters in Cairo enjoy the most unbelievable rights. (For once, I actually pity landlords.) As I understand it, until recently, a landlord was unable to evict an Egyptian family once they moved into a residence and also could not raise the rent. Ever. As a result, some people are renting apartments in posh Cairene neighborhoods for ridiculously low prices. For example, I met a man who pays 60 pounds a month (about $11) for his 4-bedroom, 3-bathroom apartment. Moreover, he claims that he only recently started paying 60 pounds after lengthy negotiations with his landlord– his family’s contract (signed years ago) says rent is 15 pounds a month.•    Egyptians don’t distinguish between the sounds “P” and “B”– for instance, “pounds” is sometimes pronounced as “bounds.” This makes for entertaining English language menus that include dishes like “grilled lamp.”•    Recently, at a shoe store, I was introduced to “Fulla,” a type of “Muslim Barbie” made by a Syrian toy company called NewBoy Toys. (Why don’t they ever test these English names with native speakers?) The store’s walls were covered with glittery pink and purple backpacks decorated with flowers, butterflies, hearts, and everything else that little girls love. And in the center of each was Barbie…no wait, make that Fulla in a black hijab. Pretty awesome. (Here’s a photo of Barbie and Fulla side by side. Seriously, does Barbie really need lingerie?) I wanted to buy the backpacks for my cousins in the US, but decided that their 2nd and 3rd grade classmates (or their teachers, for that matter) probably wouldn’t appreciate Fulla as much as I do. Shame.

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