The arrival of the fall season ushers in a rash of fall ‘holidays’ that are, in my mind, quintessentially American. Fall in Cairo, where the temperatures have plummeted into the mid-seventies, has been a somewhat odd mix of our converging and diverging worlds. As the Cairenes huddle in their heavy jackets and thick sweaters, our family is sporting shorts and t-shirts, swimming on the weekends, celebrating harvesty type events like Halloween and Thanksgiving, and dreaming of a dusty, sandy Christmas. Expat life is bizarre. There have been many instances over the past several months where the juxtaposition of our two worlds and identities has been comical, jarring, or a mix of both.
In October, Halloween came upon us with just as much intensity as it does in the United States. We managed to avoid it for the most part last year, but Emma is of age now and nothing gets past her, so our Halloween involved multiple events and is still being kept alive by her bag of candy that is slowly being consumed, one piece per finished dinner at a time. We kicked off the Halloween ‘season’ with an open house at Dan’s office, which apparently the consular section does every year. They took an entire morning off to decorate the place, put on their costumes, and invited colleagues and their families to stop by throughout the afternoon. To be honest, I have never understood why ADULTS do Halloween or why this phenomenon is growing and apparently spreading on a global scale. Dan reluctantly donned his Yemen garb and our family made a late afternoon appearance. Emma was a dragon (from last year) and Theo went as a baby. Emma’s costume stayed on for as long as it took her to make the rounds of the various desks to grab her candy, then it came off quickly, the better to eat her candy with.
Prior to Halloween, the commissary followed the time-honored American tradition of stocking holiday goods far, far in advance, so we were stepping over pumpkins soon after Labor Day and skirting around enormous displays of ridiculously oversized bags of candy. We eventually caved and bought three pumpkins for a fun afternoon of pumpkin carving with the cousins. The pumpkins lasted about one week before turning into grotesquely moldy, hideously deformedcreatures.
Halloween weekend seemed to be a big party weekend here in town. As I was playing with the kids in our play area on the Thursday afternoon before Halloween, a woman in our building who was on her way to a party asked one of our Egyptian guards to take her picture. She was dressed as a ‘sexy’ cop, complete with a tiny mini-skirt, skin-tight shirt and handcuffs. Um. What can I say?? The guards looked a little shell-shocked. On my way back from a meeting on Halloween night, I ended up wading through crowds of Egyptian teenagers who apparently turn out in force in the expat sections of Maadi, with the sole intention of egging cars and harassing party goers. Ah, the wonders of the global village.
A few weeks later, we took a quick trip to Sweden during the Muslim holiday of Eid al-Adha (Feast of Sacrifice, which comes at the end of the Haj season.) We left sunny skies and warm weather, and in one travel day, arrived to snow on the ground and about six total hours of sunlight. More accurately, ‘graylight.’ But to us, it was heavenly to put on fleeces and jackets and actually feel chilly. We enjoyed five wonderful days with Dan’s family doing things that aren’t quite on the radar in Egypt: a morning trip to IKEA and lunch; a cold walk through a park in downtown Stockholm, followed by a stop for warm beverages and pastries; the essential Saturday afternoon excursion for Lorgdasgudis (Saturday candy) where Emma had the mind-boggling experience of choosing and eating her very own bag of candy; a lovely morning reconnecting with a dear childhood friend of mine who now lives in Sweden and who I hadn’t seen since high school; a trip to the mall where the kids had a blast at the indoor play area that was the essence of that genius Scandinavian design that so perfectly intuits the mind and engagement of children. Our kids received not one single shred of attention from anyone while we were out and about, a far cry from the usual paparazzi effect that happens whenever we go out in public here. I think they blended in a bit more! We were very sad to leave our Swedish family, but look forward to returning to Stockholm, though hopefully next time during the summer months. Our world shifted dramatically again in our return travel day as we shed our fleeces upon our arrival at the Cairo airport and white-knuckled the car ride home.
As soon as the Halloween candy was cleared, out came the turkeys and the Wall of Thanksgiving Fixings at the commissary. My sister was out of town at a conference, so I got to host the Kennedys boys and another family at our place. I was a little nervous that I was late in the game to pick up the goods for the meal, but had the wonderful experience of shopping the day before in a fully stocked store with no lines or crazy shoppers. I will NEVER have it this good for Thanksgiving again. Except maybe next year. The sign over the commissary reads “The Cairo Commissary. Where Your Dreams Come True.” Heck, yeah!! They had EVERYTHING, down to the fresh cranberries, prepared pie crusts, and Pillsbury crescent rolls. (You can see that my Thanksgiving dinner is a mix of ‘from scratch’ and convenience items.) It all came together beautifully. I have to say that the monochromatic nature of the truly traditional Thanksgiving meal is something I can really only stomach once a year. It is good, but all so very beige/taupe/khaki. The turkey, the stuffing, the gravy, the potatoes, the bread, the various other casseroles and nary a shred of fiber or fresh vegetable in sight. Thank goodness for cranberries to cut through it all and add a splash of vibrant color.
The fall also brings with it the family birthday season. Five out of the possible eight birthdays between the Wright and Kennedy families take place between the end of September and the beginning of December-- which works out to a birthday pretty much every other week. I think Emma has come to expect cake-presents-balloons as a standard part of every weekend. We have been thrilled to celebrate these family occasions together, as something we haven’t been able to do in many years.
And now we head towards Christmas, of course. The Coptic Christmas isn’t until January, but there is enough stuff around, at least in our neighborhood, to make things feel mildly Christmasy for our Western Christmas. The commissary (here we go again!) is packed to the gills with candy canes and other holiday goodies. Several of the floral shops are hawking their poinsettias and imported Christmas trees, the smallest of which goes for a cool $150. Thanks, I think we will stick with our lovely fake one. We've enjoyed some fun times already making our own gingerbread house, decorating our tree, and participating in our church's Christmas pageant. We look forward to a Cairo Christmas this year, with my parents coming from Jordan for a quick visit. One of the highlights for me has been the surprise birthday/Christmas gift that Dan got me of a commissioned Nativity painting from our favorite artist and dear friend. It has been an wonderful addition to our Advent season.
The very ‘Americanness’ of this fall has got me thinking a lot about this new brand of expat life I am experiencing. It feels quite odd to not be straining for cultural integration at every turn and so my knee-jerk reaction is to view my own life as somehow less authentic or culturally relevant. But doing so really diminishes the depth of our experience as it is, which is wonderful in its own right. We’re not meant to be here for the long term and to spend the bulk of our time in a state of extreme disorientation and culture shock because we’re trying to be fully immersed would be a disservice to ourselves and our children. Our life will necessitate that we run a strong thread of ‘sameness’ through everything, if we want to maintain sanity and a sense of any rootedness through the many worlds we will inhabit. That sameness will be our American identities, though hopefully expansive and curious ones. It will include things like kitschy American holidays (minus the risque costumes) and beige turkey dinners. The great thing about it is that the backdrop will always be interesting and never boring. I am learning to accept that life in the Foreign Service will be more about cultural exposure than cultural immersion.
I remember having a conversation with a dear friend last year about how I would ‘market’ our life to our children as they grew older, wiser and more malcontented. What would be the upside for them of being uprooted every few years and tossed into a new cultural dynamic? Good question, and one I struggle with myself. What I hope they learn from their lives as diplobrats is that they are part of a large, fascinating, and multi-hued world and that the country they represent has the power to do very good things (along with some very wrong-headed ones.) Most importantly, I pray they will come to know, in some more nuanced way, the vastness of their Creator and the glory of His Creation and that that knowledge will make them more engaged, loving and grace-filled creatures. Here’s hoping the same for me and Dan too.
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