This will be my last post from egypt, in sha Allah.

I am in Cairo now, and the sounds of the city mix with Amr Diab's music from my laptop.

Cairo makes Alex seem little and quaint. The city extends and extends. But I don't know that it seems any louder than Alex. The rush of cars, the honking and more honking, the ululations on a thursday night because of a wedding, calls to prayer... It really is music on its own, Amr just adds a few lyrics.

I am leaving this afternoon. Walk to the main street, taxi, plane, spend night in airport in London, plane, bus, walk home. I will be close to getting home in twenty-four hours. (And yes, I will call Dublin by that name as long as I have any claim to).

I think ever since I left Alex on Monday I was ready to go. It is strange how much a place can affect me in two months. I am really humbled and shocked at how well I got to know people, at how attatched I could become to people so quickly.

It was strange to leave Abby and Daniel, the kids in the (second) family I was living with. They are half Egyptian but were both born in America, and both their parents were born and raised in America. I share an unspoken bond with them from living in a country different to the country where my parents grew up. When I was saying goodbye, Daniel started crying, which was something I didn't expect. While we both had fun together, it was Abby who always asked to play with me and would hang on me and grab my hand. But Daniel cried. Earlier that day we were talking about siblings and the fact that I would have liked to have had brothers. "I don't have any" I said. And I almost added automatically "except for you." But I caught myself.

Later as we were saying goodbye I told him this. He grinned.

We were at church Sunday night for about five hours, because after the service ended there was a bazaar and then we all went up to the naadi to play games and watch videos from the summer and eat and talk. And then when I started saying goodbyes it took about an hour because everyone had to be told goodbye personally, I had to have my picture taken with them, and we had to discuss facebook details and e-mail addresses.

The verb "to miss" is very complicated in Arabic, because you don't say, "I miss you" but essentially "you are missing to me"

for a man, waHashtny
for a girl, waHashteeny
for many people, waHashtuuny

And in the future tense:
hatwaHash-hany
hatwaHash-heeny
hatwaHash-huuny

The pictures are of just a few of the people I love here:

1. Kaaren, from the camp I was at

2. Dahlia and her son Ahmed and Abby and Daniel

3. Berrywan and Fuad (Fuad is one of the Arabic teachers at the language school I went to) and one of their sons, Yousef, and Sandy (whom I was living with)

4. Nana and I at the Red Sea, the Egyptian flag between us. Nana calls this photo "Camp David."

5. Abby and Daniel and I in our gallabiyyahs.