*Sigh* Back in freezing New York City. I am not pleased at all to be home right now. I wanted to continue my travels, see the world. I'm sure that my evacuation was probably for the best, but it's just difficult to accept. I hated the feeling that my own life and choices were out of my own control. Anyway, here is my recollection of what happened:
We began working on excavation around Wednesday February 26th, however I was working with Delphine, the in house art historian, piecing a large wall painting back together. Everyone was having a lot of fun and we were getting to know our foreign house mates. We had groups from Holland, Italy, and France. On Friday the 28th we woke to our internet being shut off. We had been following the riots and the protests up until that point and so we understood why it had happened. Nothing around where we were living gave us the impression that something was wrong. There was no violence where I was and I felt completely safe. From there we continued the excavation of Saturday, with talks about what all of this meant for the remainder of the program.
On Sunday, after doing excavation work, we got back and were informed that NYU was to make a decision about us staying or being evacuated. Around 8pm we had a meeting and Roger Bagnall, the main guy in charge, told us that NYU had decided to evacuate us. He told us that the president of NYU was friends with our Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, and had called in a personal favor, and so it was she and her board that organized our evacuation. After hearing the news that we would be leaving Egypt a lot of us cried, and I just tried to remain calm as an enormous temper tantrum began to brew. I wanted to scream and yell, telling them that I felt safe in the oasis and that I wanted to wait it out. But I knew that it was no use. Roger told us that we would be taken out sometime late the next day, probably at night, or the morning after that via a private chartered jet from the Dakhla Airport, a defunked airport that was essentially going to be used as a landing strip. I went to sleep late that night after talking with my friends and eating A LOT of chocolate. I didn't want to have to think about how sad and disappointed I was any more. The one month in Egypt had been one of the happiest and most content in my life, and I was not ready for it to end.
The next morning I was awoken at 7am by the sound of a fist pounding on my door. My friend Sofia flew in the room, telling Julianne and I to get up, that we had to have our bags packed by 11am, and that we were flying out at noon. I threw all of my belongings into a duffel bag, showered for what I figured would be the last time in a while, and made it down to a somber breakfast at 8. The rest of the morning I helped pack up the house, put the library books away, and generally just commiserated with my fellow comrades. More chocolate was consumed and I called my mom, finally having the solid cry that I knew had been coming. My study abroad experience was over, and I couldn't even see in my personal experience any reason to leave. Mut was safe and quiet. Then later in the morning I was told that the town had run out of phone cards, signifying that it would probably eventually run out of other supplies as well. Then I understood the potential danger, although was still not happy or ready to leave regardless.
At 11 we had congregated and Roger told us that the plans had changed. We were not flying out of the valley city of Asyut, a 6 hour bus ride away. There was no more gasoline in the neighboring oasis, so the plane couldn't fly to Dakhla. So we waited around until 1:30, having lunch and generally soaking up the last bits of our wonderful dig house. Finally our buses arrived, so we boarded, had our bags tied to the roofs and then drove 6 hours in the desert to arrive at Asyut airport. To call this place an airport is an extremely generous gesture. It was a room with rows of dirty plastic chairs, with an adjacent bathroom where the toilets didn't flush. We each bought a bag of our new favorite chips: chipsy, and waited to board our plane.
When it was time to board we were each sent through a metal detector and then were frisked down by some Egyptian women. We then boarded a bus which drove us probably 20 feet to our jet. We all laughed at the absurdity of the bus, but quickly stopped when we saw the plane. It was, in every sense of the word, a private jet. There were couches and tv screens, private rooms, tables, and a gold sink. With a few resounding "Thank you Hillary"s we found our cushy seats. When we were in the air we were served sodas, and then they brought out a few rolling carts full of food. Considering that all we ate in the past 7 hours or so was Chipsy, we were thrilled. There was beef, rice, chicken, sandwiches, fish, and fruit kabobs, which was served on porcelain, or maybe china plates. We quickly scarfed down a huge amount of food and then, like kindergardeners at nap time, quickly fell asleep. The flight was four hours long, and we probably slept for two of those at the most. I woke up just in time to see the beautiful lights of Dubai out the window.
Upon landing in Dubai we were shuttled into a fleet of sedans which drove us to the Executive Lounges. They gave us pastries and water, but we were mostly happy just to have internet for the first time in 4 days. After maybe an hour of sitting there we were moved to the main security area, went through and made it to the main terminal. There was a plethora of swanky stores, but I mainly spent my time trudging through looking for a practical and cheap sweatshirt for New York, as I had not packed for 30 degree weather. My quest was unsuccessful, so I exchanged my 350 Egyptian pounds for 50 US dollars, and went to a cafe and bought my first squagel, or square bagel. I will be honest; I was a total grump my whole time in the Dubai airport. I was angry, and extremely tired. Some were trying to see the silver lining of it all, but I wasn't ready. It had all happened so fast.
After hanging out in the airport for about 5 hours, at around 7:30am we boarded our flight to New York. The flight was very nice as well, as we were on Emirates. I had an aisle seat though, and since I seem to have the bladder of a camel, I had to get up for the man at the window seat like 6 times during the 14 hour flight, and I only went once. I watched a bunch of movies, but I don't remember which ones at this point. I slept for maybe 2 hours. The seats were comfortable and roomy, so it was actually a very nice flight. The nicety of the flight was aided by the fact that the alcohol was free, and that it was legal for me to have. I had a 20 fl oz bottle of red wine, which made the experience a pretty pleasant one.
We arrived in New York around 2pm, and made it through immigration and everything okay. We got our bags and the process of waiting around for decisions to be made began. Finally we boarded a bus, and we were informed that we would be taken to get our NYU ID pictures taken. We all went silent. We had just been through around 32 hours of travel, from bus to plane to bus to plane to bus. Now all we wanted was a bed, or at least a horizontal surface, and we were supposed to go and take a photo? At first I was frustrated and very irritated, but then the delirium set in, and I found the whole thing very hilarious. So the driver dropped us off and I sprinted into the building, as I was only wearing a long sleeved t-shirt. I was so tired that it felt like I was watching a movie of what was happening. My lovely NYU ID reflects my state of mine at this point, as it shows me straight faced, unsmiling, with a hint of hate and distain in my eyes.
From here we were taken to our "hotel", which is actually just an NYU dorm. I have a suite with a kitchen and a functioning shower, so I was pleased. We put down our bags, and then reemerged to stumble and slip our way through the streets to get to an NYU cafeteria, as we had been given meal vouchers. We ate in relative silence, and must have looked funny in our sweatshirts, messy hair, and scarves to the other fashionable NYU students present. Then we all walked back to the hotel and passed out.
I slept for 11 hours, woke up, showered, and then met up with my friends to get breakfast. I am now up at Columbia collecting my things, saying hi to friends. I am still tired and overall upset at what happened. I just want to be back in Egypt. Alas, the world was against me on this one. From here we will be resuming our class on Tuesday that we had been taking in Egypt, which will go until late March. Then I plan to fly back to Europe and at least complete the other travels that I had planned for after the program. We were told that we would be brought back to Egypt when it was safe and convenient for us for an all expenses paid trip along the Nile. So overall, it's not so awful. I just wasn't wanting to return to New York, especially in the current snowy, slushy weather.
I will continue this blog if I think that there's anything of note to write about for the next two months, and then fully resume it on a weekly basis for my Europe/Mediterranean adventures.
Much Love,
Wendy
We began working on excavation around Wednesday February 26th, however I was working with Delphine, the in house art historian, piecing a large wall painting back together. Everyone was having a lot of fun and we were getting to know our foreign house mates. We had groups from Holland, Italy, and France. On Friday the 28th we woke to our internet being shut off. We had been following the riots and the protests up until that point and so we understood why it had happened. Nothing around where we were living gave us the impression that something was wrong. There was no violence where I was and I felt completely safe. From there we continued the excavation of Saturday, with talks about what all of this meant for the remainder of the program.
On Sunday, after doing excavation work, we got back and were informed that NYU was to make a decision about us staying or being evacuated. Around 8pm we had a meeting and Roger Bagnall, the main guy in charge, told us that NYU had decided to evacuate us. He told us that the president of NYU was friends with our Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, and had called in a personal favor, and so it was she and her board that organized our evacuation. After hearing the news that we would be leaving Egypt a lot of us cried, and I just tried to remain calm as an enormous temper tantrum began to brew. I wanted to scream and yell, telling them that I felt safe in the oasis and that I wanted to wait it out. But I knew that it was no use. Roger told us that we would be taken out sometime late the next day, probably at night, or the morning after that via a private chartered jet from the Dakhla Airport, a defunked airport that was essentially going to be used as a landing strip. I went to sleep late that night after talking with my friends and eating A LOT of chocolate. I didn't want to have to think about how sad and disappointed I was any more. The one month in Egypt had been one of the happiest and most content in my life, and I was not ready for it to end.
The next morning I was awoken at 7am by the sound of a fist pounding on my door. My friend Sofia flew in the room, telling Julianne and I to get up, that we had to have our bags packed by 11am, and that we were flying out at noon. I threw all of my belongings into a duffel bag, showered for what I figured would be the last time in a while, and made it down to a somber breakfast at 8. The rest of the morning I helped pack up the house, put the library books away, and generally just commiserated with my fellow comrades. More chocolate was consumed and I called my mom, finally having the solid cry that I knew had been coming. My study abroad experience was over, and I couldn't even see in my personal experience any reason to leave. Mut was safe and quiet. Then later in the morning I was told that the town had run out of phone cards, signifying that it would probably eventually run out of other supplies as well. Then I understood the potential danger, although was still not happy or ready to leave regardless.
At 11 we had congregated and Roger told us that the plans had changed. We were not flying out of the valley city of Asyut, a 6 hour bus ride away. There was no more gasoline in the neighboring oasis, so the plane couldn't fly to Dakhla. So we waited around until 1:30, having lunch and generally soaking up the last bits of our wonderful dig house. Finally our buses arrived, so we boarded, had our bags tied to the roofs and then drove 6 hours in the desert to arrive at Asyut airport. To call this place an airport is an extremely generous gesture. It was a room with rows of dirty plastic chairs, with an adjacent bathroom where the toilets didn't flush. We each bought a bag of our new favorite chips: chipsy, and waited to board our plane.
When it was time to board we were each sent through a metal detector and then were frisked down by some Egyptian women. We then boarded a bus which drove us probably 20 feet to our jet. We all laughed at the absurdity of the bus, but quickly stopped when we saw the plane. It was, in every sense of the word, a private jet. There were couches and tv screens, private rooms, tables, and a gold sink. With a few resounding "Thank you Hillary"s we found our cushy seats. When we were in the air we were served sodas, and then they brought out a few rolling carts full of food. Considering that all we ate in the past 7 hours or so was Chipsy, we were thrilled. There was beef, rice, chicken, sandwiches, fish, and fruit kabobs, which was served on porcelain, or maybe china plates. We quickly scarfed down a huge amount of food and then, like kindergardeners at nap time, quickly fell asleep. The flight was four hours long, and we probably slept for two of those at the most. I woke up just in time to see the beautiful lights of Dubai out the window.
Upon landing in Dubai we were shuttled into a fleet of sedans which drove us to the Executive Lounges. They gave us pastries and water, but we were mostly happy just to have internet for the first time in 4 days. After maybe an hour of sitting there we were moved to the main security area, went through and made it to the main terminal. There was a plethora of swanky stores, but I mainly spent my time trudging through looking for a practical and cheap sweatshirt for New York, as I had not packed for 30 degree weather. My quest was unsuccessful, so I exchanged my 350 Egyptian pounds for 50 US dollars, and went to a cafe and bought my first squagel, or square bagel. I will be honest; I was a total grump my whole time in the Dubai airport. I was angry, and extremely tired. Some were trying to see the silver lining of it all, but I wasn't ready. It had all happened so fast.
After hanging out in the airport for about 5 hours, at around 7:30am we boarded our flight to New York. The flight was very nice as well, as we were on Emirates. I had an aisle seat though, and since I seem to have the bladder of a camel, I had to get up for the man at the window seat like 6 times during the 14 hour flight, and I only went once. I watched a bunch of movies, but I don't remember which ones at this point. I slept for maybe 2 hours. The seats were comfortable and roomy, so it was actually a very nice flight. The nicety of the flight was aided by the fact that the alcohol was free, and that it was legal for me to have. I had a 20 fl oz bottle of red wine, which made the experience a pretty pleasant one.
We arrived in New York around 2pm, and made it through immigration and everything okay. We got our bags and the process of waiting around for decisions to be made began. Finally we boarded a bus, and we were informed that we would be taken to get our NYU ID pictures taken. We all went silent. We had just been through around 32 hours of travel, from bus to plane to bus to plane to bus. Now all we wanted was a bed, or at least a horizontal surface, and we were supposed to go and take a photo? At first I was frustrated and very irritated, but then the delirium set in, and I found the whole thing very hilarious. So the driver dropped us off and I sprinted into the building, as I was only wearing a long sleeved t-shirt. I was so tired that it felt like I was watching a movie of what was happening. My lovely NYU ID reflects my state of mine at this point, as it shows me straight faced, unsmiling, with a hint of hate and distain in my eyes.
From here we were taken to our "hotel", which is actually just an NYU dorm. I have a suite with a kitchen and a functioning shower, so I was pleased. We put down our bags, and then reemerged to stumble and slip our way through the streets to get to an NYU cafeteria, as we had been given meal vouchers. We ate in relative silence, and must have looked funny in our sweatshirts, messy hair, and scarves to the other fashionable NYU students present. Then we all walked back to the hotel and passed out.
I slept for 11 hours, woke up, showered, and then met up with my friends to get breakfast. I am now up at Columbia collecting my things, saying hi to friends. I am still tired and overall upset at what happened. I just want to be back in Egypt. Alas, the world was against me on this one. From here we will be resuming our class on Tuesday that we had been taking in Egypt, which will go until late March. Then I plan to fly back to Europe and at least complete the other travels that I had planned for after the program. We were told that we would be brought back to Egypt when it was safe and convenient for us for an all expenses paid trip along the Nile. So overall, it's not so awful. I just wasn't wanting to return to New York, especially in the current snowy, slushy weather.
I will continue this blog if I think that there's anything of note to write about for the next two months, and then fully resume it on a weekly basis for my Europe/Mediterranean adventures.
Much Love,
Wendy
