Feeling Good

I haven’t written in a while, I have wanted to, but the seemingly constant stream of depressing reports, surveys, and news coming out of Egypt has left me feeling my normally fluffy take on things would be somehow inappropriate.

My Facebook timeline and twitter feed Is filled with “Egypt voted worst place to be an expat, worst for quality of primary education, worst to be a woman and highest for the percentage of women who undergo female genital mutilation” horrific. Life here for a lot of people is hard, very very hard.

Well, that’s the guilt trip out of the way, that was just to show you I am aware, I understand, I empathise, but you can’t let the Ba$tards grind you down!

So moving swiftly on…..I was just walking back from the Metro, I don’t take taxis any more unless I have my bambi legs on and am incapable of walking, and I had a little encounter to warm the cockles of your heart. Two youngish boys, say about 13 decided I would be the target for their perverted verbal abuse today. They were shouting what they’d like to do to me, you know the normal stuff, although at 13 I’m not sure they could have followed through.

Next thing an elderly gentleman on a motorbike pulled up along side me, said “I’m very sorry madam” and spun his bike round to chase the boys. Well, he was approaching them from behind so they didn’t see him coming. He drove right between them with both his legs sticking out and managed to kick both of them on the back of their knees. Down they went as he speeded of leaving them lying there, and waved me goodbye.

So, you see there are things to be positive about, the fact that the punishment may have been a little severe, and that anywhere else in the world he would have been taken up for child abuse is irrelevant. Going back to the taxi thing, I have decided to walk everywhere, but make sure I have the taxi fare handy. This money I use to salve my conscience, basically it’s to make me feel better.

The disabled boy in the wheelchair who sits at Midan Victoria, beside the daffy duck balloon man, you know who I mean, and the 90year old toothless road sweeper who does Port Said Street are the normal recipients. There is no bloody welfare system here and whilst I can’t do much their smiles make my day. Have a go yourself, don’t be giving it to the beggars though there is a mafia of them, and they use the kids to milk it. I do succumb to them now and again but I actually take the tissues which seriously pisses them off.

For those of you outside Cairo, and for whom the last sentence probably didn’t make any sense, here is a synopsis. It’s illegal to beg here so they pretend they are selling you tissues, you’re meant to just give them some money and walk away without the tissues. But I can’t be bothered with this lot, they are raking it in, so I always take the tissues. That’s the reason I keep getting new handbags, they are all full up with little handi-paks, well that’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it.

Now, let’s see what else have I been up to…..I’ve been very busy actually. I told you last time that I got elected to the Ace Club committee. In my little speech I sold it to the crowd by saying, I am a lady who lunches who was a hotel manager in my previous life. I have a good understanding of what needs to go on behind the scenes to allow you lot to just turn up and get pished, blah, blah,blah. I think they heard the pished part and i was a shoo-in.

It’s been a blast so far I have to say. They are refitting the bar so basically I get to shop for chairs tables etc without spending any of my own money, perfect. This is definitely a job for a lady who lunches. The hubby is pretty happy about the money part too, I’m far too busy to be spending any of his.

We are off to Dubai in a week or two for the Rugby 7s, I can’t wait. I’m going as the team manager, well there are two managers, the other one does the managing. I once again have been tasked with shopping. I’ve been down the Khan El Khalili to collect Galebayas and T-shirts for the tour. I did get sidelined in Mohamed Khalis Jewellery shop but that’s another story. I forgot to get the Fez’s so I guess I’ll have to go back….no jewellery this time, note to self.

I’m rather excited because as a manager I get one of those dongle things you hang round your neck to access all areas. Dongle is not the right word, my minds gone blank, but you know what I mean. That means I get to have lunch in the players tent surrounded by heaps and heaps of international rugby players, ahh eye candy at its best. The hubby will be there too and he will obviously outshine them all….just covering myself there.

Speaking of the hubby he got to do the shopping for the playing kit, that’s the shirts, shorts and socks, Well him and his accomplice in crime Dr T. They did unfortunately copy me in on all their emails during the design process which was painful to say the least. Suffice to say its very very scary, I don’t think it would be possible to fit in any more clashing colours or patterns. Here is a shot of last years effort which is very tame in comparison. I do have a shot of this years but I can’t post it for security reasons. Plus they would both kill me if I ruined their grand unveiling ceremony.


Im off to see if I can find any sheep dog training facilities here, highly unlikely, I may have to “You tube” it. I feel I need to brush up on my skills of corralling prior to Dubai. If I picked up some handy hints they would assist me in my management duties. Basically my duties will entail gathering up 15 drunken players and ensuring they find their way to the right pitch, no mean feat.

I will need to have on hand some spare inhalers, lots of tape, various types of strapping and lots of deep heat and freeze spray. There is a professional physio tent which our players can use free of charge, but after last years debacle whereby I missed a match because the one and only Dr T had me running back to the tent in search of his credit card I may ban them from using this facility.

Lots of wives and supporters are coming this year but I can’t decide if it will be a help or a hindrance. It will relieve me of one duty though, the “minding” of wedding rings. It’s not what you think, they take them off to play, give them to me, and then have mild panic attacks when they forget I have them. It’s usually about 10 at night in the Irish village when it kicks in, I’ve decided this year I will be mean and accidentally misplace at least one., you have been warned, ahh life is good!

Bye, Masalama Slainte


Pesky Pete…

That husband of mine, Pesky Pete, would need to seriously buck up his ideas. We had a deal and there will be consequences………I think i told you before about moving to our new apartment, upon inspecting the kitchen he was devastated to see there was no room for his beer fridge. After some gentle persuasion, and probably one too many glasses of wine, I reluctantly agreed to the removal of the dishwasher to allow the beer fridge to be installed, with conditions attached of course.

The conditions required him to wash the dishes of an evening, but 3 months later and things are beginning to slide.  He is shirking his responsibilities, and I put it down to two factors. First and foremost is his best buddy Sideshow Bob. This is the man who newly arrived in Cairo purchased  a monkey on his way home from the ACE club, yes a real MONKEY.  He named it little MJ in honor of Michael Jackson but thats beside the point, and rather discomforting to think about…

 I’m not sure what he imbibed in the ACE club that made this seem like a good idea but suffice to say his wife Chris (not her real name obviously poor soul) had rather different views when he arrived home at 2am and despatched him immediately to return it, once they caught it that is…..I’ve had some people question whether this is an urban myth, but no, it’s true, backed up by big Mo the estate agent ( yes the tall good looking one and captain of Cairo Rugby) He had the owner of the apartment call him to request the removal of the monkey and/or possibly his tenants too.

This brings me to the second factor that is distracting Pesky from his husbandly duties. RUGBY. I shall say it again RUGBY. Now those of you who know me are aware that I have been a rugby widow for years. I have accepted this fact unconditionally but last night took the biscuit. 

Whilst waiting on the kettle to boil to wash the dishes, don’t ask, it’s Egypt and I am grateful that they plumbed the hot water to the shower, but would it really have been that difficult to connect the kitchen sink too? Never mind, whilst waiting on the kettle Pesky Skyped our son for a little chat. In theory this was to confirm flight dates for Christmas etc which took all of two seconds, but the following hour and a half concerned the team selection for Fridays game.( We are playing Alex Warriors 2:30 Olympic Stadium,  Maadi, free admittance, bring the kids, sorry had to get that little plug in) see, totally brainwashed, needless to say the dishes were still sitting this morning……

So….we have Sideshow Bob distracting my poor Pesky, generally with phone calls, emails, and texts. Vitally important stuff it should be said, joke of the day, videos with people falling over, oh and the best one, what are you wearing to such and such??? WTF they even have matching white suits, adidas trainers and are aiming for matching Fred Perry polo shirts, that one is still in the pipeline, but it may well be sorted next week in Dubai where we are all heading for yet more RUGBY.

I guess I should be thankful that we have had a couple of cry offs, the Exorcist will not be gracing us with her presence this year, after last weekend that’s probably a good thing  well for my liver anyway, but I’ll miss you Hun. Fabulous name don’t you think, The Exorcist, she won’t leave your house until all the “Spirits” are gone, well the Smirnoff anyway….oh and diet coke, that fat coke won’t do!

Getting back to those dishes, I have off course succumbed to the Parmesan stench emanating from the tagliatelle carbonara I so lovingly prepared last night and scrubbed the smell away. Jeeze that Prill washing up liquid is dangerous stuff, no need for nail polish remover when you’ve got that. I think I’ll pull a Hyacinth Bucket this afternoon and send the driver for some Fairy liquid, so much more gentle.

Anyway, the consequences of Pesky neglecting his duties have yet to be decided. I could remove the beer fridge, but then if he puts the contents in the big fridge it would reduce the space for my wine…..mmmm that’s not going to happen. I believe the best option is to hit him in the pocket, so Pesky we are going out for dinner this evening and NO Kentucky, Pizza Hut, Mc Donald’s are NOT options.