On Being a Part of History: Tense Feelings in Alexandria

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Well the inevitable has happened.  The grits have hit the fans.  Well, kind of.  As I type protestors are Marching Down Port Said street, one the main roads in Alexandria and the street in which my home runs perpendicular to. I am not scared. Not for myself anyway.

The protests can get rough, but I don’t take part, I avoid them like the plague. services are still functioning (the tram, taxis, shops etc), although I actually put certain things back on the shelf  (like toilet paper— who knows if we will be here long enough for it be my turn to buy some again—- sad but not too far fetched given the circumstances) while I added certain other things (a few more bottles of my favorite yogurt drink, gummies… you know the things you need when you are stressed out in the short term).  I also plan on getting some laundry done… just in case.  But really, I am fine.

At the end of the day if things get worse my country the great USA will get me out.  But what about those I leave behind?

As stated previously, the situation now, as far as I am concerned was inevitable. I came here knowing that it was highly possible for something like this to go down.  And now, it has.  I pray for the safety of all I know and peace in this land.

The next few weeks will be a turning point in Egyptian history.  Like it or not, I guess I am seeing history up close.  sigh

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