Egypt and back again

In the last few weeks the overriding theme in my life seems to be one of loss. We all lose things frequently, it is a fact of life that nothing is ever permanent, new things take the place of old ones on a regular basis.

When I was a child and I had lost something, my mother always told me to say a little prayer for St. Anthony, apparently he presided over the catholic cosmic lost and found department, an image that never failed to spark my imagination. I was reminded of that when I was desperately trying to find my keys, already late for an appointment. For a moment I had the image of an old bearded man presiding over a warehouse full of balloons, keys, mobile phones and mountains of single socks.

Loss wears many faces, I lose material things, either by bad luck, my own carelessness or the determined intervention of someone who covets what I possess. I owned a watch once that was stolen, it held a high sentimental value and was irreplaceable to the degree that I have not worn one since.

I have always wondered why when it comes to people we also use the verb to lose. It seems so careless, like if you would pay a little more attention it would not have happened. Given the pain some losses invoke in us I would think we would all be much more alert.

Over the years I have lost friends, boyfriends and even a parent. Sometimes it is just the way life happens, we slowly grow in different directions as we follow the paths we choose. Other times the choice was not mine and when my mother passed away choice had nothing to do with it. Those kind of losses are much harder to come to terms with.

Every loss evokes emotions that I would rather not deal with in more or less severe forms. Heartbreak really hurts, but is something you eventually get over no matter how bad it feels when you are in the middle of it. Losing a parent created a permanent change in many areas of my life and can sometimes still feel like it just happened yesterday.

Where I am from we deal with loss in a strange way. We praise people who keep up a good demeanor in public, a few tears at a funeral are allowed, but emotions are to be kept in check and the sooner you continue with business as usual the better. Emotional outbursts are never really part of how we are supposed to behave, unless we are under the influence of something that makes us forget who we are a little, drunken Dutchies are a sentimental sight to behold. Considering my heritage I am considered over-emotional. I have never felt comfortable with the stiff-upper-lip approach, it seems unnatural to me to pretend I am perfectly fine when I am not.

I was in a town at the Red Sea recently with an Egyptian friend and a funeral procession passed us, comprised of several pick up trucks filled with standing men in the back. Their faces wore grave expressions and no-one spoke, their quietness spread over the busy street as they drove by, silencing the night. As they reached the house of the deceased, a large group of women fully dressed in black started pouring out their grief, wailing and crying loudly. The silence of the men and the pain of the women enhanced each other and the effect filled me with awe.

My Egyptian friend was a bit embarrassed, she does not approve of any public displays of emotion while to me it felt like one of the most natural things in the world. It seemed appropriate to me that a town would take note of the passing of one of its inhabitants, death is an enormous occasion and should not be kept out of sight. I remember thinking how good it would have felt if I could have done that when my mother passed away.

I have been called a drama queen, and have been accused of having lived in this country too long when I let my emotions dictate the way I behave. Compared to some of my Egyptian friends though, both male and female, I am still a beginner when it comes to drama. At times the passionate way they display their emotions has made my life more complicated than it could have been, but I love them for it. It is one of the many reasons why this country feels like home.

I think it is healthy to not just share my celebrations, but also my losses with the people that I care about. And if that makes me more Egyptian than Dutch then I take that as a compliment.