I'm sitting on my couch on a Friday afternoon (that's the start of the weekend here in Egypt). My computer is propped in front of me on the coffee table reminding me that I should be working on the new chapter I started writing this week. But for some reason I've been on an old movie kick lately, so instead I'm watching Mary poppins and drinking the most amazing hot chocolate with mint! The Christmas tree we bought this week is decorated and twinkling merrily in the corner. Cleo is asleep on the couch next to me snoring away happily. I'm still in my bathrobe and pretty much everything about my situation is comfortable and familiar.
Then the call to prayer starts. And since it is friday that means we get to hear the disco extended version on the loudspeaker. They do the entire service blaring around the city and really it probably wouldn't stick out so much if the guy didn't sound so angry! Part of it is the Arabic language, and another part is the passion of the Muslim religion, and I'm sure there are another 27 parts in there that I will never begin to understand coming from a different culture. And that's perfectly ok with me. What I find hilarious though is that I have moments like this all the time where if something strange like a publicly blasted religious service, or a man driving a donkey cart down the highway didn't happen I would forget that I'm living in a foreign country!
It was the same thing when I lived in Colorado, sometimes I would look up and think wow, where did those big ass mountains come from?
Guess were pretty good at living in our little bubbles and overlooking things.