Back to our scheduled programming: The last first days of Dublin
October 17, 2005
My feelings about being back in Cairo change about every 5 minutes. Yesterday afternoon, after a really excellent conversation with my cab driver about the original names of Cairo streets before the revolution, it was really good to be back. This evening, on my way to work after break-fast when the �pious�, young men in the streets were heckling me, it wasn�t so good to be back.
But the further removed I am from my Ireland trip, the more I realize it was really excellent. People here ask me if it was everything I had dreamed of, and my straight answer is, NO. It was nothing at all like I had imagined or hoped�even though I tried really, really hard to keep my expectations modest�but in the end it was a really great trip.
Last I left off, I was about to delve into my Hedwig-viewing experience. What can I say? I gotta give Dolo a big shout-out and thank you for introducing me to the wonder that is Hedwig in the first place, oh so many years ago. As for the performance I saw in Ireland�it was really excellent. For a somewhat small man, Joe has a really a BIG voice. Megan, who played Yitzhak, has a beautiful voice, and was really funny. I loved the ad-libs and site-specific lines that were added to the show. And just to confirm how good the show was�it was one of the rare times in our entire time together that I saw JIM actually really enjoying himself. He was smiling and laughing and clapping. And after the show all he could say was, �That was really, really good. If you talk to Joe later, tell him that I said it was really good. I�m going to have to watch the movie now.� (Hedwig-writer, Stephen Trask, graduated from JIM�s high school.)
So, anyway, after the show, JIM practically ran back to his hostel, even though I tried to make one last effort with him. I asked him if he wanted to grab dinner or a drink, and he said, �Well, I think I want to hang out at the hostel. There are people there I want to say bye to.� After a very brief pause, he then remembered to add, �Oh, but of course, I want to say bye to you too.�
Yeah. Thanks, buddy. I had been trying to avoid having, �the conversation� about what had happened, and what had gone wrong, but I finally just went ahead and addressed it. I asked him if I had done or said anything to upset him, and why things had suddenly, out of nowhere, changed between us. And he gave the classic, �It�s not you, it�s me. Something in me changed, and I�m sorry� line, and that was that.
I walked with him back to his hostel, only because I had told Ted that I would stop in and say bye to him. But it was still a bit early for Ted�s shift, so JIM and I gave each other a quick hug goodbye and that was the last we saw each other.
My feelings about the JIM situation change by the minute too, but I�m tired of talking about it. Getting to know and meeting JIM was a unique experience in my life, and I guess that�s all I have to say about the topic.
I went back to my hostel and after saying bye to my favorite German and Argentine 
(aren�t they cute?!), I decided to just call it a night.
The next morning I was off to London to see a bunch of high school friends�some of whom I hadn�t seen since grad. As I mentioned before, I stayed with my friend Yaz who I always think of as my coolest friend from high school. She was always so confident and happy, and her house was the place we all loved to hang out. We used to paint her walls, listen to music, watch movies�anyway, I really love Yaz, and was looking forward to spending some comfort time with her�especially as it had been about two years since we�d last seen each other, and we hadn�t been great about keeping in touch. So, despite my initial hesitation about going to London, by the time I left I was so relieved and happy to be going.
Of course, I was a little concerned that as the plane took off, and I looked down at an overcast Dublin, all that kept going through my head were some lines from Mark Strand�s poem, �The Last Bus�:
cracked pane
streaked with rain.
Where have I been?
I look toward Rio�
Nothing is the same�
And the bay is black.
And the black city
Sinks into its grave.
And I shall never come back.
But, of course, I did go back to Dublin, and on second viewing�when I didn�t have various weird emotions to deal with, and when I wasn�t carrying my 15 kilo pack around in the pouring rain�it wasn�t so bad. And I really loved what I saw of the rest of Ireland.
Next time�high school reunions, anti-war samba bands, and sonic pong!