Old friends

I woke up this morning, having had a weird dream in which I had a reunion with two friends from school that I haven't seen in about four or five years. Their names were Ranall Leckie and Naomi Clark. We used to do almost everything together, for about three years from Year 9 to 11, from walking between the bus station and school twice a day, to eating lunch together, to Duke of Edinburgh Award. Once we'd started A-levels though, Ranall was more into partying and Naomi became more of a loner - well that was my impression anyway. I got into another group of friends and stopped spending time with either of them, but sometimes I still wonder why I didn't make more of an effort to keep in touch. Both of them had such different personalities but somehow our friendship worked. Unfortunately, I have no way of contacting either of them now, so unless they read this webpage, I doubt I will ever see them again.

Reminiscing aside, things have become a bit more interesting in Cairo. I've started studying Arabic with Ustadha Reham, who really makes the lessons interesting. Even Arabic grammar, which Mr C and I studied a course on for a bit from Sunnipath before we got confused and bored stiff, becomes enjoyable with her. Also, she's not much older than me so we just have a chat during the lesson.

I've also begun my training at the hospital. For a foreigner, Ain Shams is a nightmare. The first day, I went to Ain Shams Specialized Hospital to look for my tutor, who was apparently in the Manager's Office there. I asked at least 8 people which way I was meant to go, and got sent all over the place, admittedly sometimes having misunderstood, until eventually I got to where I (thought I) was meant to be. The secretary rang the doctor, who said he was in the 'other' Ain Shams Hospital, al-Demerdash. So after all that, I had to repeat the whole palaver at the other place. Eventually I got my permission to study, met the doctor who will be training me, Dr Iman, and arranged to go to a ward round the next morning at 10am.

I arrived just after 10 the next day so I was a bit late, but then couldn't find the hospital. The hospital complex has loads of different buildings, with hospitals for foetuses, women, children, different diseases like bilharzia, faculties for medicine, dentistry and nursing....after half an hour I was in the building, but then I couldn't find the 'women's department for chest disease'. It turned out that it was at the end of a corridor through an unmarked door reached through the Neurology Department. And naturally, I was met by a very irritated Dr Iman who had been waiting nearly an hour for me.

And finally, a rant, if I may (as Dr Abbott would say). Why does everyone in Egypt keep saying I'm small and cute??? Ustadha Reham asked me if I was married after seeing my rings and then said "Atia, anti cute jiddan!" much to Mr C's amusement. Almost every taxi driver says I'm too "saghayyer" to be studying medicine and even the resident in ICU, who is engaged and meant it in an entirely platonic way, said I was 'so cute'. Maybe I should start cultivating a more worldweary expression or something.