I feel almost as though I'm stabbing Cairo in the back. After all, this city has been my home for almost five months. In that time, I've grown and learned and appreciated every phenomenal opportunity. However, there is a negative shift in me that I can't deny. And you, dear readers, deserve a complete picture of Cairo.

As I write, I'm sitting in the common room/kitchen in my unit. I'm studying for my last exam, taking a break to write this blog. Another student just came in, flopped in front of the TV and turned on some Arabic soap opera at full volume. Not like I'm obviously studying four feet away. But I'm used to this behavior. It's typical of the attitudes of AUC students, the wealthy of Egypt.

It's this same attitude that lets kids come into class 20 minutes late, still talking on their iPhones. Once they get bored five minutes later they gather their things and leave. They may go to get food and return to lunch and listen simultaneously. Or, they may be done with class for the day.

The contrast between the rich and poor in Egypt is stark, with little population falling in between. Students often spend in one meal what campus laborers get in food allowance for a month. The result is a society of frustrated peasants serving indulgent elites. Between the spoiled upperclass and the masses without much dignity left, Egypt becomes an angry, dirty place. Trash gets thrown anywhere and everywhere beside garbage cans. Men relieve themselves whenever and wherever is convenient. A dead cat on the sidewalk can be counted on to remain as a skeleton a month later. That is, unless a wild dog eats it.

Corruption undermines every level of infrastructure. The police are paid so little that they live off the bribes they receive. It's casual to illegally park and hand the cop some lunch money. Speeding, drinking and driving, possession of drugs might require you to pay a nice dinner's worth of bribery.

Speaking of dinner, expect a battle to accompany the check. That is unless you are too trusting to review the bill. Don't be. There will always be at least two extra random charges. Upon arguing with the waiter enough that he knows you won't actually pay the extra he hand-corrects the bill, meaning that the random charges are still tallied into the tax and service fees. But at this point you are too frustrated to argue further over two U.S. dollars.

At this point, you nab a taxi to head home. You are assured by the driver that he does indeed know the way to New Campus. After walking away from his astronomical price demands he realizes that, although blond, you've done this before and are familiar with going rates. So he chases you down and agrees to 40 pounds. Ten minutes into the ride you realize he has no idea where New Campus is, apparent by the inquiries he shouts to other cabs through missing windows while flying along.

If there is, indeed, a window, it probably doesn't have a handle and he just may have to open the door to communicate directions. At 100 kilometers an hour. One hand holding the door open, the other his cigarette. His knee casually guides the wheel.

Funny thing when the driver, who at one point proclaimed himself expert on AUC's location, now decides 40 pounds is not sufficient for the distance. So, he demands more. You refuse. He attempts to kick you out of the cab in the middle of the desert. He's screaming, you're yelling back. Upon realizing you are basically captive you agree to 10 pounds more.

You wouldn't have wanted to get out of the cab because of the barrage of harassment you will face once in plain sight. From teen boys, police officers, men in full Islamic dress with marks on their forehead from frequent praying. It's not actually threatening, but it's relentless and disgraceful. I've been good at ignoring it, but I'm getting fed up. I shouldn't have to ignore harassment and harassment shouldn't be an accepted social standard.

I've been apartment shopping with some friends who are staying here over the summer. Ibrahim is our agent of sorts, the go-to man for organizing housing in a certain area. After laying out their demands and preferences he said he had some good prospects. Tomorrow. Come back tomorrow. So we did. The first two apartments did not meet the requirements. The next one did but was above the maximum price we'd established. The doorman of the next seemed to be asleep. "Come back tomorrow." So we did. This time we never got to the apartment from the day before we deliberately expressed interest in. Instead, we waited 20 minutes for another doorman to return to his post so we could get the key to the elevator. Up we go then only to find, lo and behold, someone lives in this one! Oops, forgive us, we'll see ourselves to the door...

At this point our options are exhausted. But wait because at 7:30 there's another possibility. After canceling our dinner plans and waiting for Ibrahim to show up at 7:30 Egyptian time (8:20) we're pleasantly surprised by this newest apartment. Time for a contract, however, and the price is suddenly more than both our maximum price and the quote we were told upstairs.

And I just found out by phone at this very minute that Mr. Ibrahim added in a surprise booking fee for his work, 120 U.S. dollars!

I hope I don't seem like I'm whining, but I am venting a bit. Cairo is crazy. In good ways, in bad ways, just crazy. It will be nice to be back home where things and people work. The right way. Where a stranger will stop and help me without expecting some cash afterward. Where a kind gesture doesn't come with a catch. Where I can return to my optimistic self who trusts in the best from everyone and not get burned for it!

I've come full circle now. I've embraced the disorder of life in a third world country and I've come to appreciate the efficiency of America. This is only one of the many lessons about the world, life, people, and myself that Cairo has taught me. I love the city for that. And I'm happy I can say I'm ready to go home in four days!