Going abroad is an intense process and the preparation is even more intense.
First, there is endless waiting for approval. For those studying in Egypt, upon approval there is the obligatory "death and destruction" form to fill out - death and destruction because, in the case of voluntary or forced evacuation or your unfortunate death, AU is not responsible for refunding credits, tuition or shipping your body home. Maybe all AU students should sign this form, as the homicide rate is much higher in D.C. than in Cairo.
Acceptance wins you entry to the elite advisee group. Once a member, you are forced to listen to the expert advice of everyone from your senile great-aunt to your abroad adviser to every stranger or friend who has ever been within 1,000 km of your abroad destination (and you had better know your metric, or else). This advice comes in a variety of forms: academic, ethnocentric, useful, irrelevant, concerned and flat out wrong, just to name a few. I received all of these types of advice in the months preceding my departure.
My AU Abroad adviser told me how to get credit for classes and the type of wattage used in Egypt. Friends who had studied in Egypt gave me the lowdown on good coffee shops, good shopping, the dress codes, social norms and which campus clubs I should join. Random strangers informed me that, in their expert opinions, I will be robbed, kidnapped, sold as a slave to a Saudi prince, and catch West Nile virus, cholera and malaria all at once. Apparently, this is going to be a busier semester than I thought.
Relatives bought me a theft-proof purse for a city with a very low mugging rate (but I carried it while touring New York) and a waterproof map to carry in the desert. With their gifts, they included lots of nifty facts such as: Egyptians speak Arabic (Really? No! So that's why I have an Egyptian Arabic phrasebook!) and the pyramids are in Egypt (That's why there are pyramids on the back cover of the phrasebook! Who knew?). This plethora of obvious advice has made refraining from sarcastic comments the hardest part of getting abroad.
Now that I've arrived in Egypt, I realize no advice prepared me for surviving these first few days. In fact, for the past week, my life has been constantly threatened. The sinister villain: all Cairoan drivers, but especially those behind the wheels of the black and white death machines they call taxis. The motive: I am in the way and they must get somewhere, right now. The complications: all the stoplights flash yellow all the time, crosswalks are just pretty stripes to decorate the roadway and 30 million people are packed into the roads and sidewalks.
Walking is a contact sport, with every man for himself. You have two options: stand on the curb, looking like an idiot, and be late for everything, or march confidently, gaining religion and losing breath as taxis stop mere centimeters from your face.
For anyone planning to go to Cairo, here's your first piece of advice - and I swear it's good. There are a lot of roads between you and school, and since being a curbflower is not an option, just look once and run fast.
