Bang Bang

There is a really rather pathetic gathering transpiring every night around 7 in the main lounge. Students from ALI, the international law program, and CASA, all stagger forth from a day of classes, travels, and street haggling, before a 72 inch plasma screen television.

To watch Seinfeld, and the Simpsons, with Arabic subtitles. Then Bollywood videos on MTV India. We get a ridiculous number of channels off satellite.

And laugh. Like it's the funniest thing they've ever seen.

But it didn't start that way. We meekly huddled before the television, exhausted of episodes of shows we'd seen a million times, now merely regurgitated before us via satellite TV in the Middle East. But one night, someone began laughing. And then we all did. There was no talking, just forty plus people, in hysterics. And then turning to one another, "this is totally not funny, at all...I can't believe I am laughing at the Simpsons...we are such losers right now." But, now it's tradition, to wallow in our American sorrows, inhaling what English media we may discover.

I find the gym situation highly amusing. The AUC is a remarkably well-equipped in regards to gyms, with four different gyms on different parts of the campus. I typically find myself at the dormitory gym. It is however, the average, non-American work out area you find throughout the, well, non-American world, with four walls of mirrors, hardwood floor, surround sound speaker systems, and a very simple television. Instead of heart pounding, in the grind action which flows with your after school acitivities, as the Y in Hanover is, which many of you have membership at, this gym is a surreal warp. For example, this evening. Hassan, the gym supervisor, is the midst of a wrenching argument with his Russian girlfriend standing, well, right beside him as three others and myself observe through the mirrors. I am on the treadmill (elliptical machines aren't widespread) and my iPod recharger still hasn't arrived by mail, so Nile FM 104.2 is blasting at the highest decibel level an Arabic song on the top 10. Then this song, which is number 1 right now in Egypt, I don't know about there, "Bang Bang" by Nancy Sinatra, from the Kill Bill soundtrack (great movie) comes on. Let's just say, here are the lyrics:

I was five and he was six
We rode on horses made of sticks
He wore black and I wore white
He would always win the fight
Bang bang, he shot me down
Bang bang, I hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, my baby shot me down.

Seasons came and changed the time
When I grew up, I called him mine
He would always laugh and say
"Remember when we used to play?"

Bang bang, I shot you down
Bang bang, you hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, I used to shoot you down.

Music played, and people sang
Just for me, the church bells rang.

Now he's gone, I don't know why
And till this day, sometimes I cry
He didn't even say goodbye
He didn't take the time to lie.

Bang bang, he shot me down
Bang bang, I hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, my baby shot me down...

And a woman in a full burka, not a hijab, a burka, walks in. I don't know why. But she just sits down at one of the chairs. Hassan's bickering continues. Drenched in sweat I get off the treadmill, standing there. This curly blonded haired guy glances over at me through the mirror with a dreadul look in his eyes as we connect for ten seconds. A look of sheer fright.

I got the hell out of there as fast as I could. I feel I am dreaming sometimes here.

Workouts are bizarre events you never do forget when traveling. I recall every single workout in the basement of the Great Southern in Galway for a week one summer. Ireland was damned with rain for nearly the entire week, and I was alone in this gym. Or those of the Seven Hills, Ohio Marriott during Christmas visiting relatives. Or the mixed and matched mess of a gym of the Holiday Inn in outside Trieste. I don't know what I am saying, but it's an routine of home life which transcends location, but manifests itself in unforgettable ways.

But working out is an integral aspect the Cairo routine now. Staying "healthy" here is a paradoxical adventure. Let's begin by saying when you blow your nose is Cairo, which is often for most, the mucus produced in your tissue is black and sooty. But we all must be walking six or more miles a day, in sweltering heat, which is great exercise. But food is tricky, with many resorting to Pizza Hut delivery, and others going to street vendors to find themselves vomitting for a week. There is a middle ground of going to the market, preparing your own food, but it's much more time consuming. But an adventure no less.

All an adventure.