Kids Hit You With The Darndest Things

There are many things in Cairo that can hurt you. A rogue McDonald’s delivery scooter zipping along the road can clip you on your way to class. AC condensation has this nasty habit of dripping and pooling on extremely smooth parts of the sidewalk, creating a hazard for those of us wearing worn out Rainbow sandals. You could be waylaid by a pack of mangy cats on the way to buy much-needed supplies and if you somehow manage to limp away from the attack the rabies will do you in. I came into this trip knowing that dangers such as these would be possible and although you cannot “expect” such things I at least accept them as part of living here. One would think that after a few weeks here I would be prepare for any danger, but I was not even close to being mentally prepared to cope with being attacked by the children with whom I am working.

In America, children are normally such sweet things. They are full of joy and laughter and they are generally a source of happiness for us Big People. I came into this program expecting Egyptian children to be the same and I am happy to report that deep down they are, but a dark film of “Street” covers this bright inner child. They have a wild air about them, and they respond to pretty much anything with violence. I knew these children had rough lives, but I guess I was just ignorant about how such a life can affect a person. I realize now that my life experiences up until this point had just not exposed me to poverty of this magnitude. Sure, I have worked in food banks and with homeless shelters in America, but that only acclimated me with the American Poor. Some say that we in America have the richest poor in the world, and Egypt has proven this to be true. The Egyptian poor have lived lives that I had only previously encountered in Children’s Fund commercials that try to get you to sponsor a child. Let’s just say that I have a far greater appreciation for the Children’s Fund.

In the same way that it is painfully obvious to you that you are drowning I knew I was way in over my head with these kids. We are punched, kicked, jumped on, bitten, hit with wooden boards, and flogged with pieces of rubber from God knows what that they found God knows where. Most of the Duke Students find the biting to be the worst abuse, but my vote is with the rubber whips. On a pain scale of 1 to Child Birth, these whips fall right below 3rd degree burn. Anyway, as this was going on I kept thinking that I just had to show these kids some politeness and respect and they would change. This train of thought came from what I consider now a very ignorant Western upbringing. Politeness and manners were not things that these kids needed to survive in the street, so why should they respond to these? I was exasperated by my ineffectiveness until one day I received a revelation.

Sayed is one of the older boys at Ana Al-Misri and likes to tease us. One day he was really pestering me. He pretended to steal my iPod and kept pretending to steal my bag of stuff. Right before we left, he grabbed Lindsey’s water bottle and began to play keep-away with her. Though her P-Wild fitness and training is formidable, she could not keep up with her agile street-tested opponent. I saw this happening and I am a sucker for a damsel in distress so I pulled off a successful sneak attack on Sayed and wrested the water bottle away from him. He was really angry and jumped me. We fell to the ground together and as we fell I launched the water bottle away from his grasp towards Lindsey, securing my victory. After Sayed got off of me and we stood up, the strangest thing happened: he stuck out his hand and gave me bro hug. I have not had serious trouble with Sayed since then, and now I understand why. These kids grew up in a harsh environment where survival of the fittest reigns and strength is the only attribute that is respected. Once I realized this, I started thinking like another street dweller: a dog. If you wanted to command the respect of a pack member, you have to be the Alpha Male, and that means you have to show them that you are stronger and worthy of their respect. Yes, my real goal is to teach them politeness and manners but I realized that I could not achieve this until I showed them that I was an authority figure in a language that they understand. Now whenever I’m attacked, instead of passively defending and waiting for them to get bored and leave, I grab them, immobilize them, and then ask them to say that they are sorry until they apologize. For the little ones I just hold on to their hands until they submit. With the older boys I have found that grabbing them, gently forcing them to the ground, and pinning them until they submit works the best. It may seem a little rough, but I am careful not to hurt them, it produces results, and since some of the staff at Ana Al-Misri tends to just smack the children and yell at them, I find my methods far more humane. In fact, most of the friendships that I have made with these kids have been a result of me showing them up in a tussle. It has taken awhile for me to overcome this violent situation, but I am happy to report that this top dog is seeing a vast improvement.