Four airports later and I slept in my own bed! Being home feels good to the soul. My family, my house, my mom's food, my roads, my car, my dog. Even from the airplane America looked different; green and orderly.

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.

This past week marked final exams in two of my English classes. The remaining class wraps up next week. It will be nice to have some free time in my last weeks here, but I am truly sad to see this experience come to an end.

The coolest part of staying abroad for a lengthy amount of time is developing from tourist to resident. You come to take pride in laughing at those silly tourists who are taking pictures of the donkeys in the street. 'Pff, they must be new. That's cute.' You know that you were frantically snapping photos of the same thing months ago, but, hey, that was months ago. You're a pro now. And as a pro, you avoid vacationing in the touristy spots. In Egypt, that means you go to Dahab. I've been twice now and I could go again and again. A sweet oasis on the Red Sea, South Sinai. If there's ever a chance, stop by. Even if it is just as a tourist.

I've forgotten so far talk about a major habit of Egyptians. If this sounds like stereotyping, it is. But feel no guilt because it's an officially recognized stereotype, something we learned from the citizens themselves. Egyptians don't sleep. The city never shuts down. In a strict society, I didn't expect this. Coming home from a cafe at 2 a.m., I can't help thinking how my mom would tsk tsk me for being out so late. Then I pass a mother and her two toddlers on their way in. I think mothers' fears associated with nighttime in America are largely eliminated by Islamic culture. So Egyptians can grocery shop round the clock without getting any dirty looks.

It's spring break and I'm staying on campus for the first few days for a bit of a rest and productivity. I'm not letting myself out of my room until I finally post a few pictures! So here you go...

I've mentioned my attempts to volunteer at an orphanage. My contacts finally went through and I now spend my Sundays at FACE Orphanage in Maadi. I discovered the organization online and started emailing, which turned into calling, which turned into me bumping along in a taxi hoping to find the building. I did find it, after asking for directions several times (that Egyptian pride that makes up directions rather than refuse help kept me going in circles). Now my only wish is that I had more FACE time to spend!

Wednesday is my day teaching English to the adult refugee community in Nasr City. There is always a bit of pandemonium involved with a volunteer organization; teachers don't show up, times are miscommunicated, materials disappear. This past week had more than its usual share of complications. In the end, our class period turned out better than anything I could have designed in a lesson plan.

I did dedicate some of my weekend retreat to cultural enrichment. Our final night, we drove two hours to Mount Sinai. An exhausting 12 hours later I had followed in the footsteps of Moses and seen the miraculously transported remains of Saint Catherine. Not to mention experienced quite the work out.

In case life in Cairo isn't wonderful enough, I took a weekend vacation to Dahab. An eastern beach of the Sinai peninsular attachment of upper, right-hand, Egypt, it faces Saudi Arabia. In fact, you can clearly see the mountains of Saudi across the Red Sea. Not that any of us spent too long gazing far away. Dahab was the best weekend retreat we could imagine.

This past weekend I visited the Egyptian Museum. The content of the place was breathtaking and displayed in true Egyptian fashion.

A common complaint among the study abroad students here at AUC is the distance from 'real Egypt'. Admittedly, the new campus is stranded in the middle of the desert. And the best university in the region expectedly draws a rather Westernized population. 'Gucci Corner' is our name for the gauntlet of Lindsay Lohan replicas you must pass through to get to class. However, there are plenty of ways to discover the 'real' Egypt. You just have to be adventurous and willing to get a bit dirty.

Yesterday, I joined a group of American and European expatriates to run a four-mile trail through the desert. It's quite a ridiculous idea actually, pursued by a ridiculous group of people, and altogether ridiculously fun. The Hash House Harriers began in 1938 with four British colonial officers in Malaysia who went for a run every Monday night. When the Registrar of Societies insisted that they register as an official social venue the officers founded a parody that today boasts 1,700 chapters across all seven continents.

I mentioned that I missed out on the inauguration confinement day. I spent the weekend at an intercultural exchange workshop. The university held the workshop in Tanta, a city two-and-a-half hours away from Cairo. No Egyptian understood why we would go to Tanta in the first place. "There's nothing out there." "What are you going to do?" "It's out in the country!"

I found the country part and the intercultural part to be a little different than expected, but it was nonetheless a good experience.

Cairo transformed overnight for one woman.

The American University in Cairo's New Campus was officially inaugurated Saturday. The ceremony was performed by Egypt's First Lady, Suzanne Mubarak. Not that I know from first hand account, I wasn't invited. None of AUC's students were invited actually; the guest list consisted of dignitaries and official sounding people only. Which wouldn't have been such a huge problem except that in addition to not being invited, students were not allowed to leave their dorms. Oh, the airs that society puts on. For security reasons, students were confined to the dorms all day, meaning no breakfast, lunch or dinner. Good thing I was away for the weekend!

Henna tattoos are fairly common, especially in the Middle and Far East where the practice originated. Women frequently have their hands and feet adorned with intricate designs for special occasions like weddings or just for fun. However, I've recently learned that there is a dangerous impostor on the market. 'Black Henna' as it is called is not made with natural dried leaves as in the original process. Instead, it utilizes PPD, para-phenylenediamine, an industrial ink illegal for use on humans in first-world countries. Sadly I learned this lesson through experience. It's not pretty, but I hope to spare other travelers from the same experience.

My dinner tonight was fabulous, consisting of carrots, tomatoes, a green pepper and a cucumber. I'm sure my mother will get very jealous reading this, dreaming of fresh vegetables while the snow still falls at home. These vegetables were indeed the freshest of fresh; I bought them from a garden store in Giza. You can see veggie-laden mule carts making their deliveries throughout the city. All together I spent 2.5le, or about 50 cents. If you pity me for eating like a bunny, let me tell you about my other recent meals. You'll understand why I needed a break...

There are new customs and norms encountered in any travel. Isn't that much of the point to begin with? Seeing life from someone else's perspective allows you to learn. Here's a rundown of some of the new practices I've discovered in Cairo, ranging from primal to philosophical. If life is really a matter of perspective it's important to remember: it's not detrimental, it's different.

Khan al Khalili is a traveler's paradise, a sprawling bazaar offering goods from cliche (belly dancing outfits and stuffed camels) to pragmatic (dry rice by the pound). The old adage about back alley ways in foreign countries would completely disqualify Khalili as a destination. The market exists entirely of suffocatingly narrow streets, stairs leading up and down and not-quite-sure-which-way, opening only to more obscure alleys.

Tonight I flew through the Sahara on horseback, next to the Great Pyramids. The tour leader let those of us who knew how to ride go on our own. We rode free and fast through the chilly evening air. We even saw a camel carcass!

That's us, the dust bunnies. We are, after all, in a desert and the dust is palpable. You can see it in the air and taste it on your lips. So I and my fellow newly arrived students quickly pick up on that feeling of foreign. New land, new people, new language pouring out in rhythmic bursts all around. Arabic is easily distinguishable by its flecks of guttural purrs and whirrs. It's like a tempting secret, a beautiful code driving me crazy for wanting to be included. I'll get there; that's a lot of why I'm here.

London Heathrow Airport has these lovely red leather space-ship-looking couches just perfect for weary travelers to rest on. The trouble is, they're all occupied. No matter; your resourceful virtual guide to Cairo, Egypt, has managed to nap on a bench of a nearby sushi bar. As long as I don't move to far right or left and fall off, I can comfortably nap this layover away.