In the heat of the morning

The missing link discovered in Cairo, Egypt, every streetcorner kollo yaom.

18 stories are between me and Cairo. And most likely not more than 2 down to the nearest horny bloke without decency enough to try and hide his bulging libido and overgrown selfconfidence. It's been 5 hours since i left uni 3 classes too soon feeling nauseas and it's approxomately 3 months, 3 days, 8 hrs and 12 minutes till i will see my man again. Sometimes i wonder if it's worth it.
The whole idea of spending the rest of my life trying to communicate with arabs, stuttering, misunderstanding culturally clashing and being misinterpeted just doesn't seem so appealing anymore. Don't get me wrong. I chose this. I want this, i can do this goandgetthemgirl. WOHO. Then there are days when i just find myself wanting nothing more in this world than an early David Bowie-album and cooking for my man in our wee kitchen back home. I'm not going to do the whole boho-story, but fact remains that it's not always easy being sick without it showing, being away from the one you love, adapting to a culture you only partially like and being looked at as a whore just because you needed to set foot outside your front door. But when it comes down to it, it's a choise. At least in theory.

So offcourse, i'm back. I have some fantabulous new roomies that i really like, and it was really good seeing my friends again. Even getting back into the studies. I am starting to get a comprehension of what i've lost the 2 weeks i missed. Pattern 2 takes a shadda. My university has contacted my program here which humbeled down the management who finally atleast pretends to belive i've been ill. I've been pretty optimistic, but it's becoming evident that i'm not as well as i want to be. That learning still doesn't come as easy to me as it used to. Bloody virus. My values were back to normal before i left, but maybe i should have belived the doctor when he said it would take me a faw months to get back to normal.

I have people to cook for. I have adorable people around me. I have an ability to travel, learn and comprehend beyond my previous limitations. I am working out again, if only a little. I have someone to miss. I am appriciarting my previous studies more. I got to see snow when i was home, which i wouldn't have, had i been able to return on time. I am writing again, and reviewing my latest work, and i think i've finally hit a nerve i can like. I have multiple cheeses without animal rennet in the fridge, some of which, are imported from Norway. I have friends to drink wine and solve world-issues with. I'm meeting new and interresting people all the time. I am, and feel, very priveledged. But in the words of Rae,- some days Cairo just wins. Today is one of them.

Return of the killer-turkeys

OH! I have a view out to a rooftop where a woman keeps chickens. Hen and a turkey to be bezapt. So the turkey starts pecking on one of the chickens [hakkekylling BÆ-HÆ] and the woman proceeds to put a cage over the chicken that is being bullied. I gets out, and the turkey is over it like a pitbull on speed. Chicken under the cage again, woman grabs plastic bag, walks over and appearently walks off rooftop with lifeless chicken in bag. Now, she COULD have had time to snap it's neck, but shouldn't it then like, hop around without a hear or somehing? Are killer-turkeys PETA's next primary goal in the fight for animal rights? Oh, well, atleast it's more humane than norwegian "free-range" eggs. (note the quotes)