[Editor's note: The Tyee received a third email this morning from Capilano University instructor Dr. Azza Sedky, who spends her winters in Cairo. This dispatch was written on Sunday morning, Cairo time.]

It is overcast—not too common in Cairo. A few specks of rain hit the window sill. Safia then puts her hands up towards the sky and says, "God, let it pour, so they get drenched and go home." Safia, my mom's caregiver, is 62 and illiterate. She recognizes numbers and calls on her mobile—that is the extent of her literacy. However, she seems to be voicing the sentiments of many, many Egyptians. A downpour would disperse the protesters in a way that would still keep them safe. No one wants them harmed, but many want them to disappear.

The Tahrir Square protesters are indeed wet this morning. Whether the few specks of rain will deter them or not remains to be seen. Many are still joining the square anew to spend the night or attend Sunday mass. To many, it is an honour to say that they have been at the square, and a visit is essential. In the meantime, the army has cordoned off the protestors even more closely to allow the streets on one end of the square to be open to commuters.

When spoken to, the protesters are as adamant as ever. They promise not to leave the square until Mubarak leaves. They also promise to stay put until those who bludgeoned the peaceful demonstrations are prosecuted. And in spite of what they have achieved, nothing seems to appease them.

On the political side, the protesters have succeeded in achieving more than activists, parliamentarians, political parties, and the Egyptian nation as a whole have achieved since Nasser's regime almost 60 years ago. The achievements cannot be belittled or taken for granted.

First and foremost, they got Hosni Mubarak to clearly state he will not run again. A vice-president has been named, and laws regarding electing the president will be changed. And most importantly, key members of the ruling party have resigned including Gamal Mubarak. These are all achievements no one can deny. And Egyptians are ecstatic and very proud of those whom they call the "Tahrir Youth."

But what do the Egyptians want now? At this point most Egyptians want peace. They want to go back to work, make money, and feed their households. They want to return to normalcy. And this is happening slowly but surely. And with the curfew limited further, people are moving about more freely and beginning to go about their businesses.

Yesterday the plumber who hadn't worked for ten days came and fixed my mom's gas boiler; the clinic on the first floor of Mom's apartment building opened its doors and the doctor saw his patients; the drycleaners delivered the clothes wrapped and spotless, and the vendor with his cart full of vegetables buzzed me to let me know that he had succulent blood oranges. None of all this would have happened two days ago. Signs of returning to normal life? Absolutely.

But the scene that spelt normalcy in every sense of the word was the wedding that took place in the church around the block. True the wedding was at 2 p.m., a very unusual time for weddings in Egypt, but, with the curfew starting at 7 p.m., it had to take place earlier than normal. But the festive mood was hard to ignore: shrills filled the air, cars honked and jammed the street, and celebrators flocked around the bride and groom.

Today the streets are again packed with cars, and what aggravates people on a daily basis -- traffic jams -- is met with smiles since it essentially means life is on the mend.

And the jokes are flying all around. If you know Egyptians, you know that they deal with crises by laughing them off. Humour is part and parcel of how Egyptians live. One protester in Tahrir Square held a banner that said, "Please go soon; my arms are hurting." A Blackberry message reads: "A student’s message to protesters: All the happenings in Tahrir Square will be on the history mid-term, so please make it short."

A final joke says, "Now that the protesters are gaining ground and succeeding, they will go against Tunisia in the semi-finals." Then Safia begs God for rain; a great people, right?

My fear is that this extraordinary uprising will fizzle out as Egyptians will change channels and begin watching Oprah on MBC4 or the Simpsons on Fox. As far as many Egyptians are concerned, the uprising has already succeeded and ended.