The game

One of the downfall of expats is the hunting season, a period when your heart oscillates between comfort and wanderlust. Initial contracts being 2 years for teachers, as you land in a new destination and despite all the information splashed at your face, one part of you feels at peace  – the knowledge that you do not have to waltz the international dance, the mad whirling, twirling and pirouetting through burning circles of interviews.

However, as soon as the end of your initial contract looms, the season starts. It feels like a creeping feeling that grows as the days, months pass; like the sword of Damocles. Once the season opens, there are steps to take. One necessary step is to register with various agencies, to be on the “market” and start selling yourself. If you are fortunate, somebody will catch your file on the online myriad and contact you.

Some of us feel very much in control and believe we hold the sword in our hands, assured that you are simply practicing or testing your options. Recent technologies have made this stage very easy and Skype is a wonderful way to first introduce yourself. If this is unsuccessful, you will have to sign up for job fairs. There, awaiting you is the sheer pressure of hundreds of colleagues, all attending in the hope to obtain their dream job. There are some lovely supportive people but the most common feeling is similar to a meat market: you look around, check out what is competing with you and then the Western motto becomes yours: every man for himself! From my past experience, I cannot say that this stage is the most beautiful human connection of a lifetime but it is a necessary step to increase your chances.

I have played the game 3 times now, and the past two times with two children and a trailing spouse. This is often not an advantage on a CV, especially because of the extra tuition fees and visa issues that are entailed by our circumstances. As a mother, you face the fact that it is not only about who you are as an educator, and that your family choices have somehow impeded your professional achievement, despite the fact that both topics are completely disconnected!

A few months ago, I entered the hunting process, sharpening my academic resume and  throwing arrows towards the East. In the meanwhile, riding the emotional and pride roller coaster of an educator on the market with my three precious heavy chains around the hands, Africa called again.

Writing this with tears flooding my eyes, we will leave Khufu, the amazing friends, my incredible students and all the wonders that have filled our heart with love at the end of this year. We are staying on the same continent and unexpectedly will move west, to Tunis, at the Northern tip of Tunisia. You should be careful for what you wish for, because it might happen.

Isn’t it frightening to be able to quantify… Here is to 7 more wonderful months in Egypt…

Come and visit!

"Come and visit!"

There was a time when those words were taken up, before their echo ever reached the walls of the room - those were the times of the Ottoman Istanbul. I recall those sparkly, curious and interested eyes inquiring about the life at the gates of the Asian world. Those days were the days of visitors, every trimester and an entire program was prepared around them, including public transports such as the dolmus (mini buses), walks around the city for hours and if you have a baby with you, hundreds of occasional "Mashallah, cok tatlı sana" ('Thank God for making this happen', you are very sweet) as people pinch their cheeks. The language was accessible thanks to the Latin alphabet and readings and conversations were easier to sustain.

4 years of happiness, swimming at will in our compound, overlooking the Black Sea, a sight breathtaking to any visitor.

And then, in the blink of a move, visiting stopped and the lights that had once burnt with panache were extinguished at the sound of the new destination: the dreadful Cairo.

What would we do, if you, my dear friends, would come and visit?

Well, you would have to embrace the cultural impact, because unlike the lovely comfort of Europe, there are several things that will certainly upset you.

Indeed, the roads here and the driving culture are horrendous, all around Egypt. We could sit and argue about it until the end of time, yet there is nothing we can do. So, as you would arrive at Cairo airport, stepping out of the baggage gate, and once you have crossed the innumerous amount of concerned taxi drivers offering you a taxi, you will probably find Ahmed, or Mahmoud, or Ashraf, the drivers we use daily. They will be expecting you at the door with your name on the sign and I trust they will take good care of you until you reach my home, after about an hour (Inshallah) from the airport. On your way back, Cairo will reveal itself to you, with all his sandy coloured buildings and welded wires sticking out - its garbage laying around, where the donkeys share the highways with cars and mini buses and you might catch a glimpse of Khufu, my redeemer. 

Once you arrive, we shall relax and enjoy the tranquil and quiet welcoming party that my Buls will throw you and we will discuss your first impressions.

A good plan would be to visit Giza, as a starting point. After a thirty minutes taxi ride, we could enter the belly of Khufu and descend into several other tombs or stare at the Riddler eyes together. You will like that, it would give you awe, for a few minutes but those are precious. If we are lucky, we will be followed around by a bunch of local children, wearing the most colourful garments and curious to hear your name, eager for you to photograph them with their friends.

The best suggestion is to come for 2 weeks, so that we can organise a 5 days Nile Cruise for you, which would be very enjoyable, since most tourists have deserted Upper Egypt (with the exceptions of the birds, who have nested every temple's wall, singing in unison) and most of them will be empty, for your full appreciation.

And after your visit, why don't we plan a brunch in the desert, near Saqqara, the first pyramid ever built! You may meet Hossam, who has the most amazing smiling wrinkles ever granted to a man's face.

I would insist we visit Mokattam, in other words Garbage city. You will need to prepare yourself to witness another level of living, another mean to an end and welcome the brightest smiles. We would visit the Association of Protection for the Environment, the training areas, the recycling units, the sorting out, the shops where your money supports a group of working ladies, and their education. As we exit the Zabaleen area, it is a sense of satisfaction that will wrap itself around you, for agreeing to leave the comfort of your first world and discovering how things work here in Egypt, in an unpatronising way.

If you wanted to, Dahab and the Rea Sea would also be on our agenda, for you to feel the weightlessness and the quietness that your whole soul can experience under water; I would recommend a sunrise or sunset dive in the Canyon, for you to see another beauty of this country.

Once we have experienced the liquid element, a night in the whale bone desert would be a wonderful addition, to reflect under a sky lit with stars at the incredible signification of our lives on the planet and how little time Chronos has granted us.

But would you like this, my dear friends?

To dwell in garbage to fully appreciate what you have? To be stuck in traffic and fear for your lives during some rides? To be unsure of the possibility of Health care emergency services, as the pace of this country is unknown, even to its own people? To experience the third world inconvenience of power cuts, water shortage and internet complete unreliability? The incredible frustration of not being able to read or make sense of the language? The frequent reminder that you are a foreigner, by the way people lay their eyes on you or try to get to your money?

My friends, how would you have reacted when I saw a little boy's leg being slashed by a rope that was supposed to mark the streets (that are being destroyed and rebuild in front of my compound) and was pulled away violently by a car?

Will you judge us for having agreed to come here and stay, returning to your safe heavens, pitying us?

So, how's life in Cairo? Why don't you come and see for yourself...!

Qu'on est bien chez soi!

A l'aube de notre vie, lorsque l'on passe de quatre à deux jambes, comme le dirait le Sphinx, nous avons tous des rêves et des ambitions. L'école, avec de la chance, nous aide à les former et réaliser ou elle les rend impossible. Soudainement, on se retrouve devant des idées de carrières afin de rejoindre le monde merveilleux de l'argent et du profit! Etant moi-même d'une petite ville, perdue tout en haut de l'hexagone Européen, les limites de ma maison étaient clairement définies et c'est là que les plus beaux souvenirs d'une vie resteront à jamais.

A l'époque, avec une vision limitée par les frontières invisibles de mon manque d'ouverture culturelle, la France Méditerranéenne me paraissait exotique, de par son dynamisme mais aussi pour son rythme de vie. C'est encore un de mes endroits favoris en France: le paysage est incroyable et comme cette destination n'est pas trop près de la cote, les villes ont toujours leur attrait local et les meilleurs produits de saison. Là-bas, il ne faut pas réfléchir deux fois avant de sortir de chez soi en jupe, mais il faut se préparer au cout de la vie Européenne.

Il y a dix ans, j'ai décidé d'ouvrir la porte et d'aller chez mon voisin, l'Angleterre. Alors que je me promenais dans les rues, complètement perdue face au fait que personne ne marchait avec des cannes ou des chapeaux melons et que mon Anglais, parfumé de Français, n'impressionnait personne, c'est le Spleen Baudelairien qui m'a recouverte. Son nuage de dépression ne s'est dissipé que lorsque j'ai accepté d'ouvrir toutes les portes et les fenêtres de mon âme et d'y laisser entrer une autre lumière. C'est à ce moment la que la maladie du voyage s'est développée.

Une nouvelle connexion s'est alors établie en haut de la pyramide Baltique, dans un pays fort peu connu, que l'on peut traverser en moins de trois heures.

 

En  été, on y retrouve ses meilleurs attraits: le soleil ne s'y couche que pour quelques heures, rendant ces longues nuits estivales encore plus langoureuses. Pour les apprécier, la foret et la nature autour de vous est à porter de main, et votre sens olfactif sera enivrer par l'odeur du bois qui brule, qu'il s'agisse d'un feu de camp ou du cœur d'un sauna. Cette expérience physique et purifiante est encore mieux en hiver, si le climat est fidèle à ses vieilles habitudes, et que l'on peut se jeter dans un mètre de neige, revêtant le costume d'Adam et Eve.

Après avoir vécu au Caire pendant une année, il est en effet surprenant se sentir la pluie sur soi lors d'une promenade dans une foret de pins, cueillant des mures à volonté. Dans ce pays, qui a été opprimé maintes fois et s'est délivré avec la puissance d'un million de voix d'un ours rouge belligérant, tout fonctionne rapidement et efficacement. Les gens sont encore plus chaleureux lorsque la vodka a réprimé certaines inhibitions et il n'y a que très peu d'étrangers ou d'immigrés qui y vivent.

En revanche, c'est au Caire que nous sommes pour le moment; aujourd'hui, je traverse la ville avec un bon air de musique et un regard positif sur cette ville, ou j'appartiens un peu aussi.

Quelquefois, je croirais même être dans le sud de la France, lorsque mon esprit me joue des tours et je me prends à confondre un tuyau d'arrosage percé pour un criquet Méditerranéen! Cependant, je comprends vite mon erreur lorsque cette illusion auditive est rompue par les commentaires courtois de la bande d'ouvriers que j'ai toujours le plaisir de voir en rentrant chez moi quotidiennement. J'ai créé pour eux une collection de messages colorés et plein de ressentiment, que je tape sur mon téléphone lorsque nos chemins se croisent!

Dahab est aussi l'une des plus belles facettes de l'Egypte. Dans le Golf d'Aqaba, on doit se détendre, et ce n'est pas toujours facile pour tout le monde, mais avec une bonne amie, tout est possible.

Ayant plongé récemment, les trois plus belles expériences furent le Canyon (durant le jour, une expérience à couper le souffle trente mètres sous l'eau - la nuit, un sentiment proche de celui qui contemple l'univers), le Blue hole et aussi "Bob", ma première tortue de mer nageant paisiblement sur la tapisserie bleue.

Chaque destination, personne, ami(e), étudiant(e) et aventure sont comme des briques. Vous verrez ma maison de loin: Solidement basée sur les traditions Françaises et les influences Belges, elle est ensuite recouverte d'une section de briques venant tout droit d'Angleterre avec beaucoup plus de portes et de fenêtres encore grandes ouvertes et au centre de cette pièce, se trouve mon rocher Estonien. Au dessus, et tout autour, une section entière dédiée à la vieille ville de Constantinople, un endroit ou une partie de mon cœur restera pour toujours; c'est aussi la plus belle pièce de ma maison, car c'est la que furent construits deux des plus précieux mur-porteurs de ma vie. Tout en haut de ma maison, se trouve la pyramide. Dans cette pièce, l'électricité ne fonctionne pas toujours, pour vous rappeler d'allumer une bougie et de lire un livre, plutôt que de rester scotcher à un écran. Le sommet est garni de briques rouges d'ou sortent des barres métalliques soudées - et toutes ces pièces ont fait de moi qui je suis et nous sommes encore en construction.

Alors telle une feuille guidée par le vent, voyons ce que le futur nous réserve! Pour le moment, encore une belle année en Egypte en perspective!

Home sweet home

  Pour la traduction en Français, cliquez ICI.

 At the dawn of your life, from the stage of four to two legs, as the Riddler would say, we all have dreams and ambitions. School, if you are lucky, helps you shape them or it can also discard them. Soon enough, you have a make a decision about the career you would like to have when you are old enough to join the wonderful world of money and profit making.Coming from a small town, at the very top of the European hexagon, home was very clearly defined and where some of the best memories will lie forever.

At the time, with an eye sight limited by the invisible limits of cultural awareness, the Mediterranean side of France seemed exotic, it was different and felt more dynamic, yet more relaxed compared to the Northern nest. It is still one of my favourite places: the landscape is beautiful and since the destination isn’t too close to the coast, the towns still have their local feel, as well as the best products to feast on. There, you do not have to think twice before stepping out in a skirt, but your wallet must be ready to face European prices.

A decade ago, I decided to open the door and step into my neighbour’s land, England. As I strolled around the town, devastated by the fact that no one walked with a cane and a top hat or was impressed by my strongly accented Queen ’s English, the Spleen Baudelairien engulfed me but dissipated as soon as I agreed to open all the windows and all the doors and let some other light come in. That is when the travelling sickness started.

A new connection was now built at the top of the Baltic pyramids, a country that is mostly unknown, where you could drive from North to South within 3 hours. 

In summertime, it reveals its best assets: the sun only sets for a few hours, making those interminable summer evenings even more delightful. To enjoy them, the forest and greenery is all around you and your olfactory sense is forever pleased by the smell of wood burning, be it for a camp fire or to add to the heart of a sauna oven. This wonderful physical purifying tradition feels its best in winter, when climate change doesn’t show its extent, and you can jump in a meter of snow in your Adam or Eve costume. After having lived in Cairo for a year, it is a little surprising to feel the rain whilst walking through a peaceful pine forest, picking blueberries at will under the sun of a chilly month of June. In this land, which has undergone much oppression and delivered itself with the power of a million voices from a warmongering Red bear, things are working efficiently. People are even more wonderful once the vodka has removed some of the deepest inhibitions, and you will find a very limited amount of foreigners that will break the pattern of fair headed northerners.

My home though, at this stage of the journey, is currently located in Cairo; Nowadays, I cross the city with the right song in my ears and the positive pair of glasses and find myself smiling with a sense of belonging.

It sometimes reminds me of the Mediterranean France, for instance when my mind plays tricks, to the point where I can mistake a leaking garden hose for a southern French chirping cricket! Although, reality sets in when this chirping sound is disturbed by the comments of my favourite bunch of workers (who I still have the immense pleasure of meeting daily) a few steps away from my place. I have for them the most incredible collection of colourful text messages, typed on my phone, as I walk past them.

Dahab also makes Egypt incredible. In the Gulf of Aqaba, you have to relax, which some of us are better at than others, but all you need is a good buddy!

Having dived recently, it is the Canyon (by day a breathtaking experience and makes you feel weightless and in space at night), the Blue Hole and finally “Bob”, my first sea turtle swimming by on the blue backdrop, that are the best assets of the place.

Each destination, person, friend, student and adventure is like a brick. You’ll see my place from the distance: Mounted on French traditions and Belgian influence, covered in a layer of union jacks bricks with many new open windows and open doors, and in the center, my Estonian rock. Above them and all around, an entire section dedicated to the old Constantinople, where a piece of my heart is forever trapped; that is the most beautiful room of the house, where the two strongest and most precious foundations were built. The top of the building is in the shape of a pyramid. This room doesn’t always have electricity, the purpose is to remind you to light a candle and read a book, instead of staring at a screen. The tip is now garnished with red bricks and welded wires sticking out - they all make me who I am and it is still under construction.

As a leaf in the wind, let’s see what the future holds. To another wonderful year in Egypt!!!

Egypt – 10 months later

In August 2013, a crazy family decided to overcome their fear of the second revolution and worries concerning the state of emergency and curfew and focus on their excitement and commitment as they landed in Cairo, discovering the landscape, questioning the decision to leave the old Constantinople.

Some things are sadly just the same:

The town centre hasn’t changed. As we crossed the city for the first time, I recall the sheer disappointment, seeing all those skeletons of red brick building and litter sprawling all over the roads and roof tops; I remember seeing the chaos, poverty and the traffic and regretting leaving Istanbul but a glimpse of Khufu had given me hope. Living in the suburbs, you forget that sight, until the next confrontation. A few nights ago, as we wished farewell to colleagues moving on, I drove through the city: Town hasn’t changed a bit and it is still awfully filthy and punctuated by those same empty red buildings. This time, I saw the three pyramids in the evening sky, the moon showing right above them and in the opposite direction, the sun, bright orange, was setting behind some of the date palm trees on the distance. Peace again.

The situation for women hasn’t changed unfortunately and the harassment “(un)culture” is so engrained in some men that it will take much more than 10 months for mentalities to change... In August, the eve of our arrival, I recall seeing a video (because the media is all about making it as disgustingly real as possible) of a woman being assaulted on Tahrir as the second revolution was striking. Regrettably and coincidentally, a few days ago, a lady was assaulted on Tahrir at the inauguration of Sisi; the worst thing is that some men and fellow women find it normal, as men were happy! There are some groups and organisations working on awareness and raising respect towards women and they are the true hope for my Egyptian but also foreign fellow sisters.

Yet, a lot has changed – in how many countries do you witness the fall of a president and the appointment of a new one within the space of 10 months? For the better or the worse, time will tell and once again, we must wish the best to Egypt, instead of stepping back and patronise this country, from our expat’s safe haven.

We, as a family have changed. There is a true feeling of community here and we have met wonderful people from all horizons, who have made this year even more enjoyable! In addition, besides having developed a sheer hate against flies and insects, I personally have found an unexpected amount of peace in two paradoxical places: The desert and its eerie emptiness, where Eol rules and sculpts at will and the Red Sea, full of colours and life all around. I can never find a fair prose to explain how walking in the desert and diving can offer you a moment when the daily cacophony ends and allows you to channel your thoughts.

Madame Lucie has changed.  Given the monstrous reputation of Egyptian students, the one I was given before even meeting them, I opted for Machiavelli’s method, to be feared rather than loved. Perspective is the key word, as my start of the book is their end of a book, as my idea of acceptable is different from their idea of acceptable, as my idea of religion and need for guidance is different from theirs. It turns out the Egyptian students are just the same as anywhere else, plus a wonderful “répartie” and sense of humour.

More importantly, my international family has changed. Given our different background, Egypt has shaken some of our established traits and grown onto us. It has revealed some of the most incredible landscapes and mind opening moments and the best example is this true story:

Whilst going to town, an Estonian man takes up the mission to buy an Egyptian flag for his old man. In times of elections, the patriotic feel is strong and flags are sold at every street corner, even near our microcosm. As he reaches home to his family, he shows the flag to his son, who, without hesitations, seizes it and starts chanting: “baladi, baladi, balaaaadi....” -The Egyptian national anthem! 

For a second, the entire family stares at him in disbelief and pride, realising that we have all changed in Egypt, and thank the universe for leading us here and reveal to us what is hidden under the layer of dust of Egypt. A layer wrongly thickened by the media, a layer built on the looks of the city, its people and the recent history – but what lies underneath it, if you look past it, is humanly and aesthetically simply beautiful!