By Sara
Some readers may have noticed a dearth in posts lately (though the fiancé is certainly more diligent than myself in that regard). One reason, as usual, is the infrequency of a decent internet connection as our free wi-fi from the neighboring hotel is unreliable at best, and our local internet cafe is often very smoky, one aspect of life abroad that I have not been able to get used to. My other excuse for being a bad blogger is that we seem to have settled in quite well to the rhythms of every day life here and there isn't much new and exciting to report.
For the curious, or very bored, I'll give you an example of a day in my life here, using today as a semi-typical one. Eric may chastise me for including the minute details, but I figure if I'm going to be posting only once in awhile, I'd better give this one my all. This morning, I awoke before my alarm went off around 6:45, drank some tea and had cereal out on the balcony while surfing the net (had a great connection this morning for some reason). I left the house around 7:30 and caught a taxi a block or so away to take me to Bab Touma in the Old City for my Arabic lesson.
The lessons seem to be coming along nicely. While I could certainly be studying more (or at least some), every day I notice a bit of progress in my speaking and comprehension skills. After class ended at 10:00, I walked back to Bab Touma, caught another taxi and went to the gym. Afterwards I headed back home, bought a rotisserie chicken (pre-roasted, accompanied by delish garlic mayo), and ate lunch with Eric as we watched "48 Hours Mystery."
As I write this, I'm sitting in an outdoor cafe, downing a mocha frappucino, and next I plan to go clothes shopping at the French Gap-like store (but with better prices) before going to Rasha's this evening for a going away party for friends who are moving to Beirut. My justification for my shopping spree is that one's clothes here tend to get covered in soot and, of course, sweat, which along with frequent washing has turned my white tees gray.
Everything is going quite well, all told, despite an unfortunate incident last week. As I was walking in the Old City to my tutor's early in the morning, I was treated to a drive-by groping by a local letch on a bicycle who muttered something as he rode up to me and grabbed away (hint as to location: rhymes with 'rest'). Having recently finished watching the entire first season of "24," I somehow decided I was just like Jack Bauer and could take him on foot. But as he was still on his bike, I, a slow runner by anyone's standards, could not catch up. Forgetting all my Arabic, I yelled after him, "HEY....HEY!" Needless to say, my yelling led nowhere.
Later my tutor told me he had a female student who suffered a similar incident but there happened to be a policeman nearby. He took the guy, slapped him six times across the face and told her he could send him to jail for 6 months. She declined, hoping the public humiliation and physical sting would be enough deterrent. As for my groper, I'm convinced everyone I see on a bike is him and fantasize about pulling him off by the hair and kicking him in the crotch. Though the outfit I was wearing that day was by no means provocative, I've taken to wearing a large men's oxford shirt over my tee and holding up my arms protectively as I walk down the street. We're planning to indulge in first season of "The Sopranos" on DVD. As for the next unfortunate who messes with me? Two words: Christo-pha.
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