34. Cairo, 1996 - Domesticity
In which Eleanor explains herself. Unsatisfactorily.
Eleanor defends her quiet evenings. Her classmates are unconvinced. 
Eleanor
“But what do you do in the evenings?” George asks me incredulously. “Don’t you get bored?”
“I read, I study, I draw, I design, I sew, I make supper, I write letters. Bored? No. I’ve always got something to keep myself busy with.”
We’re sitting in the central courtyard of the Council, leafy palms overhead, on a break between classes. I’m in my second year of Arabic now, and am studying with a small group of British diplomats. We’re being pushed harder and the teaching is more tailored to how we’ll be using and working with Arabic in our professional roles. The Brits are still settling in to Cairo and the topic has turned to them bemoaning the lack of nightlife in Cairo.
“But Cairo’s amazing at night!” I protest.
“But are there any clubs?” presses George.
“Or bars?” chimes in one of the women.
“And where do you get Ecstasy?” queries George.
“Ecstasy?” I’m confused. “You mean the drug?” I look at him inquiringly. He nods. “No idea.” I say, flatly.
“What? Never? But what do you do in the evenings?” he asks incredulously. The idea that I might actually enjoy and look forward to a quiet evening at home by myself in the apartment with just the cats is utterly mystifying to him.
“But seriously, you don’t go clubbing, even in South Africa?” he presses me.
“I’ve gone a few times. But it’s so loud, and everyone is kind of out of it—you can’t have a conversation with anyone.” The image of that night with Alasdair and Meredith comes unbidden and unwanted. I wince. And taste the bile in my mouth.
I’m starting to feel really uncomfortable. In comparison to the worldly wise sophisticated Brits from London, with their mellifluous English accents, it’s like I’m some old staid stick in the mud from the boring outer reaches of the colonies. The long evenings playing bridge with Wendy and her friends, shopping with Basant, or just hanging with Fiona and the others—this is what “boring people” do.
However it is they do decide to amuse themselves in the evenings, I never know. I’m not invited. Magda is disappointed in me. But what can I do? They’ve made it clear I’m not in their league.
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Bonus Material
Out and about in Cairo: getting really settled in now
