Telling the truth is something that I have always valued. When growing up my mother always taught my sister and I to tell the truth. In our defense, we always told the truth…even though the truth may have been twisted just a tiny bit. Many of my friends have asked me about my travels from the summer and how I have felt since coming back to the states. Normally I try to give short answers and details since I can talk on the subject for hours but now I must confess...
I must confess that Egypt was amazing.
I remember that the music was haunting and the food was astonishing. The all-encompassing religious aspects of the culture were unforgettable. I almost missed a flight from Sudan due to my speculations and complicated religious conversation with this darling Muslim woman in a prayer room in the Addis Ababa airport. My curiosity got the best of me and I was in heaven, to say the least.
I would also like to confess that I have dreamt about frolicking in the Mediterranean sea more times than I can count and have relived Alexandrian conversations (and dastardly sunburns and sand in my swimming bottoms) that don’t even make sense any more thanks to my haphazard ways of being. Frankly, it’s not fair that America doesn’t have figs the size of a fist or crooked, dirty streets filled with little shops where one could buy a tall, cold glass of harroup and a good-luck talisman to put around a rear view-mirror.
While I’m on a roll, I should also mention that I have never met more hospitable people than in Egypt. I learned not to compliment on women’s jewelry because they would take it off and give it to me “to remember them by.” I received pictures of friends and family and was often stuffed like a Thanksgiving turkey. I had to strap down my heart so it wouldn’t beat out of my chest due to the kindness that was bestowed upon me.
That cool morning, when I barely managed to leave Egypt at 3:20 a.m., the straps broke and a part of my stupid and ignorant heart tore out of my chest and jumped into the Mediterranean as the plane was soaring over it. So you see, I believe that I must go back to Egypt to see the rest of the country in order to make myself whole.
I must also confess that I have had a difficult time adjusting since I have been back in the states. I miss the people that I met in Egypt and Uganda and the African way of life. I am thankful however for my washing machine, chest of drawers, microwave, the sushi restaurant across the street, Gamma Sigma Sigma, and the shoes that I left behind this summer. My American friends and family are extra perks, of course, when it comes to being back home. ;)
While I’m doing all of this confessing due to the influence that this experience had on me I would also like to add that I am indeed set on trying to grad school abroad. I am also losing patience for those who can not fathom what the simple words “humble” or “selflessness” means. I confess that it’s heartbreaking to see many of the American women I know suffer under the hands of a man because of the same kinds of oppression that can be found in a developing country. I must also confess that I’ve changed a lot in the past three months from these experiences and I hope that it’s for the best (so please forgive me, dear friends, if I'm a mess).
And finally, I confess that I am indeed very blessed.