Week 3 in the Cairo Greenhouse for Books. I inquire periodically as to when we might expect the AC repair person. “Two or three days, inshallah.” It’s the inshallah that gets you every time.
Last Tuesday the plant man came and declared the library greenery moribund. It’s too hot for plants in here, he tells me with hand signals. The potted plants would have to convalesce in the temperate zone downstairs. “Take me with you!” I called, as workers wheeled the drooping herbage out on botanical gurneys. Perhaps I should work on my survival Arabic.
Meanwhile I will just try to finish the library inventory without murdering anyone. I only have to make it to Thursday.