No Good Options

Yesterday, Brandon called me.  He had been given the option to leave, and after much much consideration, he decided to go.  I knew that I should have felt happy, relieved, excited when I got the phone call, but I felt nothing.  And so I arranged for a corporate rental apartment, got in touch with a car-buying service, started going through the mental lists of what  had to buy to stock the apartment, and offered a very heartfelt prayer of thanks.

I called him this morning, and he was (and probably is) still sitting at the airport, waiting to leave.  I asked him how he was feeling, and he was was very distressed about having to leave; he feels that he is abandoning his co-workers, his job, and his responsibility for Rere. He gave her all of the cash he had on hand when he left, but it was barely enough to cover a month's salary.  The only reason he is leaving is for me and the children.

If we knew that we were coming back, I don't think Brandon would be distressed - but we don't.  We only have six months left on our tour, and how long the evacuation will last is anybody's guess.  If they do let Brandon go back, they might not let me and the children go back.  If Brandon doesn't go back, then we will be PCS'd to DC.

We had been planning on being TDY for Brandon's training, and the per diem would neatly cover all of our housing.  If we are PCS'd, however, we will be given an eight percent pay raise, everything we have in storage, and a hearty good luck for finding any kind of reasonable housing for three children less than three hours away from DC on a very low FS-5 salary.  We have been very careful with our money, and have saved quite a bit, but if we're in DC for eighteen months on our own power, there won't be a penny left by the time we leave.  And I'll be crammed into a tiny apartment with at least three children (we don't plan to be done any time soon) for a year and a half tearing my hair out.

If Brandon goes back to post, I'll be in an apartment that is paid for, but I will be without my husband for three or four months.  Either way, I'll be prematurely bald.

If I knew what would happen next, then I could plan.  But I don't.  I don't even know when Brandon will be coming back to the US.  I always prefer to have the disaster happen so I can get to cleaning it up rather than bracing for an undefined coming evil.

Nothing in life is ever neat.  We often move from one disaster to the next, and I suppose I'm owed one after the last year of peace and calm.  Philosophy, however, only gets one so far when reality stares you in the face.  But, what can be done?  Not much except to get out of bed every day, take care of those you are responsible for, and do it again the next day.

January 31

12:00

            We’re at the commissary, waiting.  Last night the evacuation was announced over the radio, and we were told to be ready to 8 am for the shuttles to come and pick us up.  I finished up the packing and Brandon put Edwin and the girls to bed for the last time in at least a month.  After the children were in bed, we watched a movie just to have something normal to do so we could pretend that I wasn’t leaving in the morning.  When the movie ended, however, the pretending was over and I couldn’t deny that we were going to leave.  We got a good night sleep, despite the gunfire.  Well, I did; Brandon said that the gunfire kept him up. 

            We woke up at 6 and got everything ready by eight.  When nobody had come by 8:30, I put Edwin down for a nap, knowing that it might be the only nap he would get that day.  Our neighbors came to get us at 9:30, saying that the buses were here, but when we got down, they drove off.  Mr. Dempsey chased the buses down to 55/17 only to discover that they were for HSBC evacuations.

            And so we waited outside until 10:30 when the Embassy shuttle came.  Edwin’s pink eye had flared up again this morning because we ran out of drops and the pharmacies were closed.  While we were waiting, Brandon called some pharmacies, but just as he was giving one our address, the shuttle pulled up. 

            The driver tossed our bags into the back, and Brandon got in with us.  He is supposed to help out at the airport, so thankfully he gets to ride up with us.  When we were in, the driver asked if we knew of anybody else nearby, so we directed him to the Goering’s building.  The Goerings were outside along with the Risleys, but the driver only had room for the Risleys. 

            I had not been outside since Friday afternoon, and was surprised to see the roads.  Concrete blocks, logs, guard shacks, and whatever was on hand had been pulled partway across the roads to prevent looters.  As we left Maadi and drove toward the commissary, crowds of young men manned  areas with the same pulled across them.  One used a telephone pole that had been pulled down.

            When I first saw them, and the pistol shoved into one boy’s belt, I was alarmed.  But as we drove further, I realized that these people were not out to cause trouble, but to prevent trouble.  I haven’t the best opinion of Egyptians, after living her for a year and a half.  They have their own was of doing things that often drives me insane.  An amazing lack of attention to detail in just about everything makes the whole country an almost rubble heap.  And their friendliness often drives me into the safety of my own, private apartment.  But when I saw those men taking the job of peacekeeping into my own hands, I found a new respect for them.  I don’t know if this would have happened in the States; most people would probably hunker down in their own homes, protecting what was theirs.  I was proud of Egypt and the Egyptians when I saw them taking their own safety and well-being into their own hands.  Seeing this has made me believe, for the first time, that they might be entrusted to take their own future into their own hands.

            After arriving at the Commissary, we were unloaded and the driver went out for another run.  Brandon checked me in while Eileen and I watched the luggage and children.  When he came back, he handed me an envelope; inside were five hundred-dollar bills.  “Travel advance,” he told me.  I looked around at all of the people milling around.  That’s a lot of hundred-dollar bills.

            So we sat for about ten minutes, and then were told that the buses were around the corner and ready to be loaded.  Brandon put our bags and ourselves onto the buses, and then he and Dave left the women and children on the bus and went out to help.  Kathleen has found some friends from Maadi House behind her, and is happily chatting away.  Edwin is happy to flip the seat tray repeatedly up and down and up and down, and everyone is making friends and saying hello to other friends. 

            Sometimes I’ve thought about the advantages private sector employees have – nicer homes, often houses, drivers, cars, better salary.  But today as I sit on a bus chartered by the US Government waiting to go to a plane chartered by the US government with my travel advance in my backpack, I am very glad to be in the protective fold of Uncle Sam.

January 30

January 30, 2011

            Last night was the most frightening night of my life.  When I crawled into bed around eight, Brandon was shaking from fever, so I made him take medicine to bring the fever down.  While trying to soothe him, we heard the gunfire start.  Around ten, a voice came over the radio telling the Marines that looters were on their street, and gunfire was heard only a road away.  Two minutes later, someone else reported gunfire around streets 17 and 18.  We live at 17 and Orabi.  The radio grew quiet for a time, and I drifted off to sleep.

            At 11:45, the phone rang.  If there were voluntary departure, would we like to leave?  Brandon told them yes, and we tried to go back to sleep.  Brandon slept, but I only slept fitfully, the sleep where I woke up thinking that I had never been asleep in the first place.

            This morning we woke up, and everything was quiet.  The day was a clear as I’d ever seen it and the birds were singing.  After breakfast, I sent Brandon to bed and folded yesterday’s laundry.  The girls and Edwin played quietly, and I could almost believe that it was a normal day.

            Then Brandon came in.  They were starting authorized departures.  And so now my room is full of suitcases, mostly packed.  Sophia and Kathleen have their shoes on and are busy packing their carry-ons.  They are excited and keep telling me, “Mom you have two options.  You can stay here and be killed, or leave and be safe.”  I don’t want to leave, more than anything in life I don’t want to leave.  I don’t want to be with my parents for an unknown length of time, at least 30 days.  I don’t want to be without Brandon.  I don’t want to leave Egypt this way and never come back.  I don’t want to have to be transferred to DC early and live in DC for a year on five suitcases.  I don’t want to have to worry about Brandon every single minute.  I don’t want to be in somebody else’s house as a guest for who knows how long.  I don’t want to leave.  If I could have a magic wand and wave it just once, now would be the time. 

January 29, continued

15:42

Brandon just told me that one of his callers, who lives across the street from the Maadi Grand Mall told him that the mall has been looted and is now burning.  I never thought that Maadi would see looting and violence.  Mark commented earlier that when looting begins, it is the end of the end.  I have two sets of go-bags packed – backpacks for a quick trip on foot, and carry-ons for something more organized by vehicle.  I never thought that I would have to pack a go-bag.  When I look around my apartment and think that I may never see these things of mine again, I do not believe it.  Five percent of my mind considers it as a possibility, but the rest knows that nothing like that can ever be. 

As the day has progressed, I have become increasingly alarmed.  If Brandon were not taking phone calls, I would be much more sanguine.  However, when somebody reports seeing the mall burned, I can’t help but be alarmed.  I am not a naturally nervous person, but I feel my limits beginning to be tested.  This was somewhat exciting fun at first, but I don’t like it now.

I have discovered how news travels when there is no official source – rumors.  Yolanda will talk to Brandon who tells me and I pass it on to Mark.  I talk to Rere and pass on what Samir has told me.  This is like passing on juicy gossip about horrific events that are happening around you.  I can understand how rumors grow larger with each passing.

The children are watching Mary Poppins, and I am grateful that they watch so few movies so that they can be entertained for a few hours.  Edwin has caught on to the mood and is disconsolate unless being held all of the time.  I grew tired of hauling his 22+ pounds around, and so pulled his high chair into the study and he’s watching the movie snuggled up to his blankie and thumb. 

I told Kathleen that I had to pack some things, and she asked if they could come to.  I told her that of course, and she asked me where we were going.  When I told her that we might have to leave and fly to the US, she brightened and clapped her hands with delight.  One of the primary children had the same response yesterday in church.

17:04

I just saw two tanks drive through Nahda Square.  They rumbled past and I assume went to the Maadi police station.  Rere called a few minutes ago and said that looters are coming through her neighborhood.  The men of her building are standing outside with knives and hammers to keep the looters away.  Apartment by apartment looting is occurring in Moquattam.  Mark thinks that we will be evacuated, and so I’ve gone through the house with our video camera to film all of our possessions. 

The girls are excited to leave; Sophia just brought me her shoes to put on and was disappointed to learn that we wouldn’t be leaving just right now.  I have that surreal sense of now that I suppose has been described as living in a dream.  Everything that is happening is real, too painfully so, and I am scared.  I know that faith is a rock, but right now it feels a flimsy support.  Brandon assured me that everything would be fine, and it will in the cosmic sense, but right now I wouldn’t describe as ‘fine.’  In the end, however, as long as I have my family, I have all that is important.

17:55

Something is burning.  A very large something, judging by the huge clouds of billowing black smoke coming from behind a building we can see from the front room.  The fire just started, and I don’t know where it is coming from.  The building is across Nahda street north of the metro.

In the street below, crowds of boabs are gathering with baseball bats, golf clubs, and assorted long, deadly weapons.  I am impressed.  They have almost no stake here in Maadi – no family, no property, and only a very little pay.  But they gather to protect that which is not theirs.  There’s not much I can do, but we’re baking cookies.  Whatever the situation, cookies are always appropriate.

19:16

I put my head outside, and Maadi is eerily quiet.  No horns honk in the passing traffic; no traffic is passing.  The ubiquitous rrrrrrr-tu-tu-tut of delivery scooters is silent.  No music comes drifting out of a passing car window.  All I hear is the quiet talk of the men in the street and an occasional sound of gunfire.  Sometimes the single shot is close, sometimes it is far away.

Mark called earlier and reported that Road 9 is being looted.  As he says, ‘looting is the beginning of the end.’  Egypt has changed irrevocably.  Tomorrow morning or next week when the rioting has stopped, the stores will still be smashed, the buildings burnt.  The storeowners will be destitute and some nameless man will hoard all of their work after winning it in a night of larceny. 

Brandon thinks that if we are to be evacuated, it will be tomorrow.  The girls keep asking when we will go to the airport, and don’t believe that something bad could happen.  I think it is better that way – if they did believe they’d never sleep.  I hope, of course, that we won’t need to be evacuated.  I can believe the situation is slowing more readily because Brandon is off right now and is trying to get some sleep.  I imagine when the calls begin again, I will feel the fear again.

Brandon thinks he is coming down with strep throat, and has a rising fever and chills.  While he was getting ready for bed, I blocked our front door with the sideboard, the front entry table, and two chairs.  I tried to use the study sofa, but I couldn’t get it through the door.  Hopefully I’ll just laugh when I see them in the morning.

The Next Day

January 29, 2011  12:27

            Last night the gunfire continued for 30-45 minutes, and then went on sporadically for a while longer.  Brandon took phone calls until 2 AM, so I took a Lunesta and put earplugs in.  The phone calls never quite stopped, so Brandon didn’t get any sleep until 2.  Thanks to the Lunesta, however, I didn’t hear anything.

            When we woke up this morning, nothing was to be seen or heard.  I called around to see if anyone knew anything, but nobody knew more than protests throughout the city.  Brandon started taking calls again at 7, and most calls were about getting to the airport and whether they should leave. 

Around 10, he started getting phone calls about evacuation.  There was a rumor that the ambassador had been talking to CNN and had announced an evacuation.  Everyone wanted to know what they were supposed to do for the evacuation.  Brandon has had to tell them all that no, there is no announced evacuation and even if there were, they would not be included.  He has had some people grow quite belligerent and ask what the Embassy planned to do for them. He has pointed out several times that 30,000 American citizens live in Egypt and there is no way the government would be able to transport all of them out of the country.  Someone asked if the doors of the embassy would be opened for sanctuary.  I don’t know how many times I’ve heard him tell a caller that they need to stay home, sit tight, and do what they thought was a good idea, but the embassy couldn’t do anything for them. 

Around 10, we got broadcast on the radio announcing that the struggle is continuing around the city and that the police and army were deployed at strategic points, but that the streets were not considered safe.  All employees were advised to stay inside.

The cell phones came back on around the same time as the announcement, and Brandon got a call from Samir.  He had watched as the police station and NDP building were burned.  There was some attempted looting, but the surrounding citizens had stopped the looting.

I called mom and told her about the situation, and she reported that all of the news was full of the happenings in Egypt.  She had thought that we were safe in Maadi, but then I told her about the things that had gone one.  She didn’t sound very worried, and I am grateful for that.  After I got off the phone with mom, Y called.  A hotel in Giza had been burned and private residences were being broken into and looted.  There had also been an evacuation plan discussed, but no decision made. 

After my nap, Brandon told me that the curfew had been instituted for tonight – from 4 this afternoon until 8 tomorrow morning.  My phone was still on, so I called Rere and she told me that there are food shortages and that everyone is going to the souk to stock up.  She also had heard that a bank had been looted and that the army was surrounding the embassies and Egyptian Museum.

M called about an hour ago and passed on the information that Carrefour has been looted and that a burned out police trucks were by the Maadi Grand mall.

Back in the US

As I sit in bed writing, the whole world is gently heaving.  Although I've been off a plane for a while now, my inner ear hasn't forgotten the previous eighteen hours very easily.

Our flights went well, after the inauspicious beginning this morning in Athens.  The children were wonderfully well-behaved, and I didn't even have to pull out any drugs to produce the behavior.  After the landing of our long nine-hour flight to Dulles, the passengers (young, not married, no children), commented that they hadn't even known there were children in front of them.  Thank you for your prayers; I know they helped everyone get through a long, long day.

My parents have lovingly welcomed me and the children, and the girls were in fine form, screeching as Grandpa riled them up in the bath this evening.  Edwin isn't so sure about this whole arrangement, but I'm sure the toys will help convince him that this is an okay place to be.

I'm doing as well as can be hoped; now that I'm here the reality has begun to set in.  As long as we were traveling, we were just traveling - that existence that is nowhere in particular for an unspecified amount of time.  But as the end of our trek neared, I had to keep from crying as my thoughts ran back to Brandon, still in Cairo.

The only thing to do, of course, is act like life continues on and so it will.  I'm grateful to be in a place with so many friends from my youth who have children like me so I am not alone.  All of the friends in the world, however, can't make up for my best friend who we left behind.

At the beginning

This is from my journal a few days ago

January 28, 2011

            Right now Brandon is talking on the phone to someone in the US.  All evening the phone has been ringing, and now I realize the downside of being married to a Consular officer.  Although he comes home around the same time every evening, emergencies are very troublesome.

            A few weeks ago, the government of Tunisia fell, sparked by a disgruntled man’s self-immolation.  Similar acts followed in several Middle-Eastern countries, including Egypt.  This past Tuesday was Police Day, and somebody (I don’t know who) dubbed it the “Day of Rage.” 

Brandon had the day off from work, and so we packed a picnic and went on a felucca ride.  After the felucca ride, we went to Maadi House and finished off the day with a fireside.  I was sick and Edwin was tired, so I stayed home and Brandon and Kathleen had a date.

While we were enjoying a nice day off, protesters gathered in downtown Cairo.  Around 4000 gathered in Tahrir Square, and 400-500 gathered on a bridge.  The police responded with fire hoses, tear gas, and suppression methods.  We talked about it at Maadi House while the children played on the playground.

Wednesday Brandon was sick, and Thursday was a normal day.  I hadn’t heard much about the demonstrations, but I don’t pay much attention to the news.  Wednesday night Bobbi called to see if we were okay, and Dad emailed the same.  Thursday I read some blogs about the protests and the RSO sent around a security message.  More protests were planned for Friday (today) after prayers, so stay away from large crowds, gathering police presences, and areas where people congregate after prayer.

Thursday night after our movie while Brandon prepared agendas, I checked Facebook.  It didn’t pull up.  I tried another browser – no luck.  The government had blocked it.  This morning, Brandon went to check the email, and the entire internet was down.  When I got to church, Brandon told me that all of the cell phone service was cut off.

Church was shortened to two hours, and we had a meeting before everyone left to discuss emergency plans and walking trees if the landlines go out.  Brandon told me that Brother T had been in contact with M, Brandon’s boss, and that he and M would have to go up to help M out with phone calls.  I bitterly protested.  Brandon had compared this situation with Iran in 1979, and the last place I wanted him to go during demonstrations (right near the embassy) was to the embassy to be taken hostage.

Thankfully, Y thought the situation through, and called to tell Brandon that for now the phone calls were being routed to individual’s houses and they would all ride up in motor pool together if necessary.  So we made dinner, chicken curry with naan, cleaned up the dishes, and listened to the embassy radio that I had thought so superfluous when we moved here. 

Mark called to tell us that all Embassy personnel were told to stay home and not attempt any travel to the Embassy – the road was blocked off, and all metro service stopped.  I sighed in relief, and strung a necklace that Brandon had designed for my birthday.

While stringing beads, we listened to radio traffic as the dispatcher announced that a curfew was imposed in Alexandria, Suez, and Cairo from 18:00 until 7:00 tomorrow morning and that anyone out on the street would be shot.  While writing this entry, Brandon and I heard chanting.  We ran to the bathroom window in time to watch 400-500 people walk past Nahda Square while chanting.  It seemed that people were gathering as they walked past.  I heard helicopters a few minutes ago and the traffic is as quiet as I’ve ever heard it.

I have never been anywhere that has been part of history.  I thought when we moved to Cairo that not much would be happening, but perhaps I was wrong.  We don’t know where this will lead to – perhaps to nothing, perhaps to the government’s fall, perhaps to a prolonged government.  Gamal Mubarak, president Mubarak’s son has left the country with his wife and children, and specially flew back to make a TV appearance to confirm that he is still here and hasn’t left the country.  Evidently Gamal doesn’t know where this will go either.  Gamal flew back because a member of the mission slipped a tip to NBC about his departure, after which everyone in the Embassy was firmly told that they were not allowed to speak to media by themselves.

So we are in a strange situation, a surreal one.  I don’t think anybody thought that the situation would get to this point.  Surely shutting down facebook, the internet, and cell phones would have nipped everything in the bud.  But I guess they shut all of those down a few days too late and the impetus is fairly strong, judging by the fact that crowds were marching by in Maadi, one of the quietest neighborhoods in the city. 

When Brandon and I were talking earlier, we predicted that despite valiant efforts, nothing would be done day.  I think, however, that the curfew is evidence that the government is not secure in their position.  Further evidence is the protesters clearly violating curfew this evening.  We just heard gunfire, and so things are clearly continuing.

So what will the morning show?  Part of me, the part that rubbernecks with everyone else, hopes that it is something exciting and that the government falls.  The reasonable part of me hopes that all will be normal and I will take the girls to Maadi House in the morning while Brandon writes.  Because protests and riots are interesting from a distance, but when it interferes with my normal life I want no part of it.  Exciting may sound fun, but in the long run, boring always wins.

And what about the Egyptian people?  As Rere told me on Wednesday, nothing is going to change until they change what’s inside, and that will take more than just protests and riots.

Update: Brandon just heard a rumor [which turned out not to be true] that the military just switched sides, and he and Mark think that the Maadi police station just got overrun.  We can hear significant gunfire, although it has just stopped.  Now, I think, I’m starting to get nervous.

Athens Airport

We're at the airport right now.  This morning we woke up at 4, got ready, left the hotel, and went to check in for our flight.  The lady at the desk looked at our tickets, called on the phone, looked again, and then told me that the tickets were for tomorrow, not today.  

So I went and threw myself at the mercy of the ticketing counter and looked forward to the hotel's excellent breakfast.  The very kind woman told me that the flight from Athens to Munich was fine, but from Munich to DC was absolutely booked, even business class.  Since our ticket is a government fare, she was not allowed to change the routing.  However, United had an emergency hotline, and she would call them to see what she could do.  

After some waiting and looking forward to fresh-squeezed orange juice and pastries, she called us over with the good news.  We were booked through Frankfurt on Aegean and then on to DC where we could catch the same flight to Raleigh that we were supposed to take tomorrow.  She apologized for the wait, and I just smiled and told her it was no problem.  After the wait we had on Monday, I have a whole new tolerance for standing in line.  

The girls have been very well behaved, and so has Edwin.  We are at the beginning of a very long day which we devolve to growling from me and whining from the girls - it's inevitable - but at least we're starting out well.  

Ordered Departure

I just spoke with Brandon on the phone.  He is safe, but probably won't get sleep for another week.  He and everyone else in the consular section is doing American Citizen Services for those who are trying to get out.  He slept at the Embassy last night after leaving the airport around two in the morning.  All of the Embassy personnel were evacuated, but there was a planeload of tourists that there wasn't enough room for.  I'm not sure what happened to them.

The embassy has just been put on ordered departure, which means that all non-essential staff has to leave, and they cannot come back for sixty days.  Not having been evacuated before, I'm not sure what that means for those who left on voluntary.  I am now glad that I chose voluntary.

Brandon is essential staff (remember all of those American citizens left?), and so I don't know when I'll see him again.  If he does get to leave, he'll be sent to DC, and so we'll meet him there.

Thank you so very much everyone, for all of your prayers and well-wishing.  I'm worried for Brandon, of course, but I think that he should be okay.  We travel in the morning, and so hopefully all will go well.  It can only last so long, right?

Still in Athens

This morning, after a rough start to the night - Sophia would wake up crying, I would calm her down and go back to sleep, Edwin would wake up crying, I would calm him down and go back to sleep, then Sophia would start it over again 20 minutes later - we all woke up feeling much better around 8:45.

We had some people on our flight that scheduled outbound flights for this morning at 6:10 and so were thinking of spending the night in the airport with their children.  I was happy to sleep in my down bed with down pillows and a down comforter and have a leisurely breakfast with fresh-squeezed orange juice, exotic fruits, delicious pastries surrounded by a family of embassy people who were doing the same thing.

Evacuation is rough, but embassy Athens has done a marvelous job of softening the landing.  I confess this is the first time I've stayed in a hotel as nice as the Sofitel.  I don't intend to make a habit of being evacuated so I can stay at nice hotels, however.

The children are waking up from their long, long naps that were long enough for me to get a nap also.  I nap every day, but despite being quite tired, I had a hard time falling asleep - too much going through my mind.

We're going to go swimming, and then play with some friends while their mother volunteered to watch the kids for my massage.  I think my day tomorrow will go better if I can get yesterday worked out of my back and shoulders.

Our flight tomorrow was booked through JFK, and then over breakfast, I heard the first of the snowstorms blanketing a lot of the US.  With a silent prayer of gratitude for those who knew about the storm and told me, I called the embassy and they got me through to Carlson Wagonlit.  They were happy to reroute me through Dulles, and we'll even be coming home a little earlier, although we will be leaving earlier too.  A small sacrifice to avoid being stuck in the JFK airport for who knows how long.  There's no ACS and CLO there to set me up with a very nice hotel, baby formula, diapers, and whatever else I might need.