I bought a ton of tangerines

Since fruit that can be peeled is recommended for tourists, I bought some tangerines from a very insistent dude.

His power of insistence overpowered mine and I ended up with a little more fruit than I needed.  I gave the guy 35 pounds meaning to give 25. When I asked him to give me10 pounds (~ 90 US cents) back, he just threw more tangerines at me, shoved them in my bag and even tried to feed me. I physically resisted and he tried to give me some packaged strawberries instead. I resisted again. Since I don't speak Arabic and the dude did not speak English, he chose to demonstrate how awesome those strawberries were. He sniffed the plastic wrapper and closed his eyes in ecstasy, he kissed it twice and then tried to stick it in the bag again. I still resisted as per coordinator's advice to avoid strawberries. The fruity guy resorted to tangerine shoving tactic. Smart, smart. It is easier to off-load smaller fruit than a whole package. I am off to eat the tangerines

Do you like snow as much as I do?

Yes, I like. A lot. Because it makes you appreciate warm weather more. The post-christmas blizzard of 2010 wreaked havoc on the streets and messed up travelling plans and commuting for thousands of people. As much as I hated riding Newark Airtran for hours, I got as much fun. I got a good couple of chuckles at fellow straphangers yelling at each other not to touch the door, because it kept opening and closing. 

   And apparently the Airtran was going anywhere but not where it was supposed to go. That angered a lot of travelers. They would board the train, take a trip to some random terminal and come back to where they boarded. I have to admit that it was hysterical to watch a crowd of more than puzzled French guys emerge from the Airtran 20 minutes later and attack a sad Airtran Terminal worker. 

   After four hours of riding three different trains I was so relieved to get to Grove street station. And than it took me another four hours to walk home with all that luggage. Yup, all by myself I braved my way through the blizzzzard.

Almost forgot that I was met by Mr. Snowplower who was concentrated more on taking pictures than on getting me home. I just kid, Sir Snow-a-Lot, you are a distinguishably fine fella.

Next day was quiet, sunny and involved a lot of digging

But smart people preferred to walk on the road:

I hope there still be snow when I get back to Jersey. And I go cross-country skiing around the block.

First impressions

Palm trees lining the streets and no sign of snow. Yay! Even the mosquitoes bring back the pleasant memories of summer evenings in Jersey. The weather is pretty mild and pleasant, guess would be perfect for a certain hairy specimen I happen to know. One thing that bothers me is this really thick fog/smoke thing hanging in the air. It looks almost bluish in the light and smells of smoke, exhaust fumes and Russian air. Ya know what I'm talking about. Our tour guide assured me that in the morning it will be gone when the sun rises, just like vampires!

I have taken some pics of the airport, but they are pretty crappy, so here is one offered by Google Images:

    
Not too shabby, eh? Except that when I arrived it was of full of people, and serious looking men who kissed each other on both cheeks upon arrival. Also they have a habit of walking with their hands linked. Imagine Carrie Bradshaw and her girlfriends dashing through the streets of New York. Yeah, so the bearded guys in galabiyas casually strolled like that in the airport. So sweet!
This is a traditional galabiya dress for men:

But mostly I saw men wearing western clothes, a mix of European and Jersey Shore style -acid washed jeans and sport jackets.

And people on the street were really friendly explaining how to get here and there. (We searched for some food, you see). 

We checked out a little bakery across the street from our hotel and they had some awesome stuff there - tiny cute pastries, pretty cakes, little candies wrapped in foil, oh dear. So long my resolution to lose ten pounds, haha. 

Oh well, I have to force myself to sleep now. Tomorrow is orientation and after tomorrow we get to see the pyramids.  

Sharks Attacks!

Apparently, there have been a series of attcks on swimmers in the Red Sea, near Sharm-El-Sheikh and they have been targeting ex-Soviet swimmers. Two were Russian and another from Ukraine. Some have blamed the Russian tourists for feeding and attracting sharks in the area. Exactly, you tell a Russian that you are not supposed to do that and he will do the opposite. Oh well, that is not an excuse. Poor guys have been enjoying a swim, and someone tells that they asked for it. Some sources say that those sharks have been attacking swimmers and divers for a while there. It is just that the authorities tried to cover it up and not let the media pick up a jaw craze. Oh well, I will get a cage and see those corals anyway.

I bought a travel guide and a phrasebook.

Both of them are from Lonely Planet. And both of them are so well done. I am already seeing myself thanking their editors in my adventures in Cairo. Somehow going to Cairo and traveling in Egypt immediately associates with an adventure. Seriously, anybody ever thought of going to Prague as of an adventure? More like a snooze fest! Nah, I kid. I am sure that Czech Republic is just as much fun as Egypt. So from time to time I skim through the travel guide and get really excited: feluccas! shish-kebab! Nile! diving! I get so excited that at times I forget that I am actually going to study and continue internship for the most of the time. By the way the first section that I looked up in the phrasebook was "Getting acquainted" or something of that sort, as per advice of my overprotective BF. And I have been diligently repeating on subway  a-na mit-ga-wiza, a-na mit-gawiza, ana mitgawiza. You figure what that means.