shifting seasons

It's mid-May, and when the cars and motorcycles whizz by as always there is now a palpable wave of sultry air that comes with them. At times the wind isn't caused by traffic, but even then you can feel it nearing you. It's like when you approach a lamp, or the stove, or a fire, but more all-encompassing—a rush of warmth that briefly, completely envelops you. In a weird way, it's comforting. At least until you realize it's a hundred degrees out. The policemen's uniforms have switched from navy or black to a blinding white that I guess keeps them cooler. I can't fathom the amount of bleach it must take to maintain their (lack of) color in a city like Cairo, and I'm not sure it's worth it, but either way they, too, are a sign of the fact that summer is indeed finally here, and here with a vengeance. The smell of heat, especially at night, reminds me more of India than I realized was possible.

A couple of weeks and it will be India. I'm trying hard not to resent that—trying hard to not be jealous of the people on the program who will be spending the summer here, or in Palestine—and I think I'm succeeding. I think enough things will stay the same that India, too, will be awesome: The smell of laundry drying on the balcony, for one. Also: the crowding, the noise, the heartbeat of the masses unencumbered by the sanitization that makes America so repulsive, so boring, so not something I ever want to go back to. Ha. I mean, I do, kind of. Dryers are nice. Clean air, open spaces, et cetera. But it just feels like it's lacking something. And when I'm there, so do I.

I should be devoting more time to talking-about-adventures and less to waxing-poetic-about-things but I'm sure I'll have plenty of time for that once I'm home. Right now I'm just relishing the last couple of weeks I have here, hoping I'll be back next spring, and pleading that I'll survive all the papers and projects and exams that are coming up. If I can make it to 9:00 Monday night, I'll be set. For now: good night. Summer is here and it is significantly different from not-summer. I'm sure I'll get over it soon, but for now, it is beautiful. That is all.