It's time to move on
October 11, 2004
Anyone who has chatted with me recently on MSN messenger might have noticed the parenthetical note next to my name which says, "(Eating pomegranates)." It has been there for at least two weeks. One of my chat buddies, I can't quite remember who, took me to task on that saying, "That's quite a lot of pomegranate. You can't really be eating that much."
But it's true, I eat pomegranate almost every day now, usually topped with a
little apple juice.
You wanna know why? Because in Cairo it is officially Fall (or more accurately,
"Notsummer," as we really only have two seasons here, Summer and Notsummer) (I
don't rely on the solar calendar to tell me when it is Fall either).
I know it is officially Notsummer because I haven't eaten a watermelon in over
three weeks, nor have I seen any mangoes, and one thing I really like about
Egypt is you can tell the seasons by the produce they have in the market. Sure,
you can get all fruit year-round if you go to an upscale supermarket, or are
willing to pay top-dollar at the fruit stand, but there is something nicer (and
cheaper) about just eating what is in-season. Pomegranate is an official
Notsummer fruit, as are oranges and tangerines, though those come later in the
Notsummer season.
I also know that it is officially not summer anymore because today I wore a
coat. Granted, it was a light, raincoat-like coat, and I wore it mostly because
due to the marble flooring in our house it's always colder inside than it is
outside, plus I wanted to cover up the tightish top I was wearing for my walk to work.
In any case, I can feel it in my bones. Notsummer is here.
The days are darker (not just shorter, but darker), and there is the smell of
burning rubber in the air�a smell I always associate with Notsummer in Cairo.
When we leave the balcony door open, the breeze that comes in cools the whole
house, and leaves that bittersweet smell lingering in the air.
Soon it will be time for sahlab, my favorite Notsummer drink, a milk and
cornstarch concoction topped with dried coconut, raisins, and cinnamon.
And then the rainy days will come (there are only a few, but they do come), and
we will all wade through the muddy streets of Cairo, because the government and
the people refuse to acknowledge that it rains like this every year, and install
a proper drainage system.
Thus, in honor of Notsummer, I am changing my diary template yet again to something less, well, summer. So it is out with the fresh orangey look, and in with the more subdued cozy, imageless template. I like the designer's website. I like the fact that she works to support the growth of women in technology, and I like her philosophy�"some of the most beautiful solutions are the simplest ones." It also doesn't hurt that the name of the template is "fava beans and a nice Chianti." Heh.
I only wish I could figure out how to keep the old template for the spring and summer entries, and have this new one just from now on (until summer rolls around again, of course), but diaryland makes this difficult (or impossible?). If anyone can learn me how to do it I'll be much obliged.
And though there are not many trees unleaving in this here city, I leave you with this old favorite poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins:
Spring and Fall, to a young child
Margaret, are you grieving
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
Leaves, like the things of man, you
With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
Ah! as the heart grows older
It will come to such sights colder
By and by, nor spare a sigh
Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;
And yet you will weep and know why.
Now no matter, child, the name:
Sorrow's springs are the same.
Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed
What heart heard of, ghost guessed:
It is the blight man was born for,
It is Margaret you mourn for.