In my not-so-short-anymore lifespan...

...i've been a monk, a pilgrim, a washed up doobyhead, a psychiatric counselor, a rockstar, a journalist, a car stereo thief, a UN relief worker, a university lecturer, a strawberry picker, a 400 meter athletics champion, the first Egyptian to play cricket at Lords, a classical pianist, homeless, a pharmaceutical guinea pig, and a building site crane operator. Thanks.

Egyptian house fly vs Indo-European house fly

The Indo-European house fly is small, light, and quick to dodge the reaches of the impending doom of the swatter. Although dirty like his brethren, he is quick to understand that after several swipes of the hand he is unwelcome and generally continues on his quest for sugar and shit. If a window or door is opened to him, he requires little coaxing and obligingly takes the opportunity to leave altogether.

The Egyptian house fly, by contrast, is large and heavy in nature and despite much effort encounters difficulty when trying to stay in the air. As if weezing and spluttering he picks up his huge, bulbous mass and, instead of flying, jumps into the unknown to see how far he makes it before gravity takes over. Wherever he lands, he lands, as this location has been ordained unto him. He refuses to move when "shoo-ed" by the human hand, and firmly plants himself on your forehead for the longest amount of time possible. If the human forehead is shaken, he, too, is shaken. If he is squashed from a lack of desire to move, then so be it, as it has been similarly ordained unto him.

When in Tonga, do as the Tongans do

On the rare occasions when I am visiting Tonga and I wish to promote inclusivity, brotherhood and transcend cultural boundaries, I always make a point never to persistently joke or comment in my customary east London cockney rhyming slang.
Why, then, do friends of the family - direct from the satellite villages of Assuit and its environs - insist on bombarding me with jokes (often completely devoid of wit) upon which are based cultural references completely alien to me? Do they think somehow my Egyptian genes, or blood, or "ro7" will suddenly come to life and, in a yearning for some ethereal connection with my ancient ancestry, compel me to understand exactly what is being said?
Is there no comprehension, or a complete and willful disregard of the fact that I just might not follow what is being said?

Or do you just want me to break your jaw bone the next time you try it on me and drag you out of my house by your nostrils?