Walking through the streets, I am giddy, sharing the elation of a win against Algeria with a country whose inhabitants tell me “Welcome” at every passing opportunity. The streets are alive and teeming with frenzied Cairenes, every one of them celebrating the victory that they are all taking personally. Stopped by a man in the street, I go to have my face painted with the Egyptian flag. I wish I could say I was every bit as excited as they all were, but I know that this win means so much more to them. Still, I share their happiness, as I am now proudly displaying on my face. My face now bears stripes, in red, white and black, and passers-by stop to take pictures of me. It’s so strange, but I see the humor in it all, and just laugh and grin, smiling for the cameras that click and flash. That cold night spent in a dreadful state of freezing restless sleep, and periodic readjustments of my poor excuse for warm cover seems lightyears away from tonight.
I’m reading On The Road, and I’m loving it so much more than I did the last time I started reading it. When I read it the first time, I struggled through the beginning, unable to really connect with the story or the characters. It took me ages, but by the time I finished the book, I loved it. However, over the course of time it took for me to read it from cover to cover, my perspective and state of mind changed considerably. I am now in a place where I can seriously dig this book, and I’m loving it, loving it, loving it. Now I’m itching to go hitchhiking around the US… but I don’t think that would be safe to do alone. WHO’S GOING WITH ME?
In other literary news, RIP J.D. Salinger.