Bienvenue aux lecteurs du journal La Croix!

DukeEngage Cairo was featured yesterday in an article in the French-language newspaper La Croix. For those, like myself, who pretend to remember high school French, here is the link to the the article.

La Croix was also kind enough to link to our blog, so I wanted to welcome any of its readers who followed the link here. A special merci beaucoup goes out to Nina Hubinet, the author of this fantastic piece.

A Global Discussion on Global Issues

I know, I just posted, but you get to hear from me again!

One of the facets of our week is our weekly lecture series, consisting of Professor Lo finding someone to talk with us about various issues relevant to the Middle East in general, or Cairo in particular, or whatever other topic which could intrigue as students linked by our interest in Arabic and its culture. I know we've mentioned these lectures, and blogged about them (or, occasionally, forgotten to blog about them), but I want to say again that each one is different - on a different topic, by different kinds of people, in different places throughout Cairo.
Today, we ventured across the Nile to Giza, to the Arab & African Research Center, where various people associated with the center gathered to talk with us about how American politics are understood and portrayed in Africa and the Middle East.
Yeah, a heavy topic. But one which prompted some interesting questions and points of view on a broad range of related subjects. We moved from a discussion on America's involvement in the Middle East in the past which arguably prompted the problems of today to a discussion on how American politics work and how we view our current president to how to solve some of the major flaws in the Egyptian government and so much more beyond.
I can definitely say that at least some of these topics interested everyone attending - it's hard to take Arabic and not be curious about the Middle East. And, though there were practical problems during the talk, like people not remembering to speak into the microphone or the low whine occasionally emitted by said microphone, I think we all came away with a slightly heightened awareness of how exactly globalization and international politics affect other parts of the world. America really does have a special place on the global stage, whether it wants that place or not, and I think it was good to be reminded of this fact and to reawaken our awareness of how we are perceived not only as foreigners and Westerners but also as Americans.
I, of course, am overgeneralizing a bit - the students on this program are just too diverse for me to be able to speak for all of us, and I am just not able to condense the 3 pages of notes I took from this lecture into this blog post. But our meeting with the center prompted interesting discussion, both while we were there and afterward - which ultimately has been the goal of this lecture series.
And, personally, I enjoyed the discussion, as it bridged a lot of very relevant topics dealing with America and foreign relations in this region of the world as well as allowing us to get a different perspective on Egypt politically and globally. And it left me excited to see what next week (our last lecture!) will bring!

There Will Be Time, There Will Be Time

Allow me to again voice the disbelief that many of us feel at the moment: we have less than two weeks left in Egypt.
Really? I can hardly believe it. It seems like just yesterday we were stepping out of the plane, marveling at the dust storm, worrying over a lost bag, discovering the absence of things we were totally sure we'd packed. So recently we were stressing over the lack of structure to be found in our organizations, the magnitude of work before us, the sleepless nights we were sure awaited us. We were overwhelmed by the noise, the dust, the heat, the traffic, the strangers on the street at all hours just waiting to call out to you or stare as you pass.
And yeah, we've had some bad experiences. We've been sick and we've been tired. There were mornings when class was just not tempting enough to pull us from our beds. There were nights when we didn't do all of our homework or didn't lesson plan or didn't blog. There were times when we chose a football match, or sleep, or some other tempting experience over those responsibilities which seem, on paper, to be more important. We've been frustrated and lost our tempers and wanted to go home.
But oh, how I know I'll miss this place. I'll miss the smiles on my students faces when I climb my way into my St. Andrews' center. I'll miss the genuinely friendly and welcoming comments from absolute strangers, concerned that I am lost or just curious about who I am. I'll miss the cats in the trash stairwell, eagerly awaiting my arrival as I get around to taking the trash out of our kitchen. I'll miss ful, and tamaya, and the bread, and fresh fruit juice. I'll miss the excited smile of our bawab as we turn the corner or emerge from the elevator. I'll miss this time with my fellow DukeEngagers.
For now, I have 12 more days with which to content myself. There's still a lot I want to do: a diner in Maadi to be tried, shops along the route to Ard il-Lewa to be explored, Islamic Cairo to venture around (إن شاء الله), gifts to be bought and places to which I'd like to return. I hope I'll have time left to wander a little, to get lost and just enjoy whatever part of Cairo I find. And I hope I'll be able to make this experience worthwhile and meaningful for my students, and for the kids at Ana el-Misri. And, eventually, I hope to actually remember some of the deluge of new vocabulary from my classes - I just can't seem to remember the word for vegetables (حضروات), or laughter (الضحك), or to try (حاول), or many others which would be absurdly practical but I just don't use enough to actually remember.
So, my motto for the next 12 days? Do better, try harder. I mean, I try to make this my motto most of the time, but sometimes it's easy to lose track. But I've only got 12 days left, and hopefully this time crunch will help me get out there and keep making the most of this last little piece of Cairo. I have such good ideas for my classes and my adventures - I only hope that there will be time enough!

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.

To Tourist? Or Not To Tourist?

As we passed the halfway mark, meaning a whole month had elapsed already, very little changed in terms of our daily lives. I can speak Arabic a little better, and I know my way around now, and haggling comes a lot easier. But few other changes can be found between now and our first week, really. It's been like a major birthday, where you know you're supposed to feel older, but you really don't.
The frustrating part of this? I still get looked at as another American tourist. Trust me, I stick out in a crowd here, and it's a little disheartening to know that I could live here for years and still get the "Welcome to Egypt" greeting from strangers on the street who just want to interact with a foreigner. By this point, the impulse I have to restrain is the desire to turn to them and tell them off in Arabic, proving I'm not just some tourist and explaining to them that I live here.
But what makes me not a tourist? Just because I'm here for two whole months, or I live in an apartment, or because I take classes and teach and volunteer? So what? Two months is a seriously short amount of time, and, as our Pyramid tour yesterday proves, we still want to go around and do all of the sight-seeing and get all the obligatory Cairo pictures we think we need. Where's the distinction?
The unfortunate truth is that I don't think there's much of one. Yeah, we might be slightly more conscious of our dress (especially compared to some of the scandalous outfits I found on people yesterday in the Pyramids area...), but I know I still show my ankles most of the time - something you just don't see on most of the female residents here, even those women who don't veil. And my Arabic isn't that great, especially not my Amiya (colloquial, spoken Arabic).
The big difference, in my mind? What we'll eventually take from the whole experience. Yeah, we'll bring home the pictures, and the souvenirs, and we'll have been to many of those "you've got to go" places. But how many tourists have our microbus stories? Or will remember the contented looks on a bunch of street kids' faces as you let them rest on you to watch a subtitled 'Sword and the Stone?' While we're here, they seem like such little things, lost in the daily bustle as we rush from place to place, from experience to experience. But I have a feeling that, when we go home, it's gonna be Mustafa's smile as he rests his head on my arm, or the kid running up to the microbus' driver seat and stealing the keys, which stick in my mind a lot better than the crowded Pyramids area or whatever other obligatory "Cairo" feature.
Unfortunately, this knowledge does little to curb the comments I get walking down the street, but at least it helps me curb my temper.

Today's Tidbits - June 28

Today's Titles:

• The Group Vs. The Fender-Bender
• Brendan Gets Bit on the Butt
• The Spit-On-Andi Game
• John Starts a Barbershop Quartet
• Arab Academy vs. Going to the Cinema
• Rho Phi Gamma
• Fernando and the Giggles

Songs of the Day:

• "I'll Make A Man Out of You" -from Mulan
• "Girlfriend" by Avril Lavigne

Quotes of the Day:

• "Fi Amreeka naqul DUH." Translation: In America, we say DUH. -Ruba
• "Hatha explains katheer." Translation: That explains a lot. -Andi
• "Ya'll.....ya'll......ya'll......" -John teaching "ya'll" to his students
• "Ah Nusaibah, it's your birthday." -Professor Lo
• "Maheen, I thought your birthday was yesterday." -Professor Lo once again

Favorite Moments:

• Nusaibah's Birthday (and all THREE cakes)
• Lindsey and Fernando get documented by a random guy
• Robert Doyle's President Broadhead Impersonation
• Our security detail scaring off street salesman
• The Ain Shams kids singing "I Believe I Can Fly"
• Seeing the Mediterranean
• John Making Popcorn

Always Something New

Every day in Cairo is a little bit different. There are new adventures to be had, a new bawab guarding the entrance to our apartment building (a bawab is like a doorman or bellhop, and they chill on the ground floor and open doors for us), new bug bites to be futilely ignored, new types of street food to be attempted, and new places to explore.

When Fernando and I go to Ardilewa (or, Ard al-Liwa), our new adventure is the trip over. The metro ride is pretty standard, give or take the different looks and/or comments I receive, but the microbus ride is always something special. Our first real microbus ride was on the way over, just the two of us, with no one to explain as everyone in the bus began to pass money to a random passenger on the bus. At first, I didn't notice. I was too busy looking out the window, worrying that we were going to miss where we were supposed to get off, and ignoring the man who would not stop staring at the arm I was using to brace myself. Note that we were in the front of a quite crowded bus, facing the rest of the passengers, in an area where very few foreigners venture and certainly, if they do, they don't take the minibus. When I eventually realized that money was going around the bus and I had no idea why, I gave Fernando a panicked look. Did he actually work for the bus driver, but just sit in the back? Was it a low-key holdup that none of the Egyptians cared about but was going to rob us of all of our money? Was I missing some vital, culturally significant activity?

Turns out, it's just easier for everyone on the bus to pass their money forward to someone close enough to pass money to the driver, so my initial fears were unwarranted. But every day on the microbus presents some kind of new puzzle, whether it's how to get the driver to stop, whether or not we should just jump off, how to get around the fold-down seats full of people blocking our exit, or discovering which microbus we should actually get on.

The microbus isn't the end of our adventure, although the market area through which we weave in order to find the correct alleyway down which we meander in order to arrive at the building containing our site is actually usually less exciting, despite its overflow of people, vehicles, animals, goods, and food. But, all in all, pushing through all this is more than made up for by our students, because they are more than worth it!

Reflection: June 11

Yesterday, I started scratching the back of my head. I had this little feeling- a sharp, soft pinprick, more like it- somewhere on my head. A mosquito bite? No. A tick? Can’t be. Then, slowly throughout the day, the feeling spread: down the back of my neck, into my arms and fingers, through my chest and to my stomach, where it circled like a hawk overhead before spiraling into a heavy mass. This daunting weight sat in my stomach all day as I watched the child refugees at St. Andrew’s and as I planned my attack on how to better serve them.

We began our morning by observing various classes at St. Andrew’s and luckily I was put into an English class. The children were learning about parts of speech- nouns, verbs, adverbs, adjectives and all the wonderful things that I love to study in linguistics-, so needless to say I in exactly the right place. Along with Hannah and Lindsey, I had the opportunity to see these eager young kids figure their eager young ways through the English language. I’ve never seen so many smiling faces in a single classroom. Every time the teacher asked a question, at least half the class shot an index finger into the air- their equivalent of raising your hand- and shouted out, “Miss! Miss!” in hopes of answering it.

Chances are that these kids have no chance. They are refugees in a country that either doesn’t want them or doesn’t want to deal with them, or both. Maybe I’m not giving Egypt a fair shake, and the fact of the matter might actually be that Egypt is unequipped to deal with them, but these kids nonetheless have the deck stacked against them. Chances are these kids will have a brutal, challenging existence on this planet. Watching their eyes moon over prepositions was like seeing a beautiful flower that doesn’t recognize the winter two steps away from setting in. It was simultaneously soaring joy and crashing sadness. There was a kind of glorious innocence about it all that I wish I could capture in words or pictures or film. But I can’t. It was the most natural, most basic human reaction, the product of thousands of years of human experience programmed into my DNA. It transcended paternal instinct; it was a moment when you realize what makes you human.

It is our job to fight against all the forces soon to embitter these children’s lives- the government, xenophobia, fear, self-doubt- and to shield them from the coming storm. In all likelihood, our eight weeks probably won’t change things. We may teach 80 kids, but there thousands of others out there. But that’s not the point now, is it? The point is to try to affect them, no, to incite them to change their own lives. We are not teaching them English or Arabic, but rather we are teaching them the tools necessary to empower themselves. If even just one student goes on to lead a better life than they would have without us, then we’ve succeeded. Or, at least, that’s the goal.

Time to go do it.

Trip to the Tower - June 5

Andi, Brendan, Hannah, and Lindsey try to trek to the Cairo Tower but inadvertently end up wandering around Zamalek instead.

Wust El Balad

The DukeEngage Cairo 2010 group has officially sampled the night life of Cairo! After meeting up with some Duke alum, who are here taking classes, we found out about a concert down at El Sawy Cultural Circle in Zamalek. We all, of course, jumped on the opportunity to wander around and see more of the city, so we braved taxis and found ourselves getting a glimpse of Cairo at night. We couldn't stop talking about how beautiful it all was, with the Nile right beside us and all the buildings and boats lit up in a variety of colors. People were everywhere and the city seemed even more full of life - if that's even possible.

Wust El Balad, the band, was amazing. They were fun to listen and dance to, and everyone around us knew all the words, showing how popular they are. We tried our best to understand what they were singing, with mixed results, and the people of Cairo once again proved how nice they are with how we were treated at the concert!

Afterwards, we all broke off, some back to the apartment (with only marginal difficulties with the taxi) and some to find a midnight snack (including some delicious chocolate crepes!). But we can't wait to continue exploring Cairo!

The Orientation Marathon

Ana Al-Misri, or I the Egyptian, is an organization that takes care of children ages 2-16 that would otherwise live on the street. They come in with various backgrounds and needs, and it is up to the very capable staff of Ana Al-Misri to work with these children at a personal level, address their needs, and prepare them for a successful future.

The children have varying backgrounds, so the staff put the children into different categories when they are first interviewed to join the program. Stage 1 the lowest level, where children are behind in their education if it exists at all and may suffer from physical and psychological maladies that are a result of their life on the streets of Cairo. Though they often do not encounter problems like gun violence and drug use that are found in most other countries, these children sadly often have a background of neglect and abuse that leaves them emotionally damaged and with trust issues. Stage 2 children are more adapted to society and are current with their education. They are your average curious, energetic, and joyful kids. The last stage is where they are prepared with enough skills to live on their own, the goal of Ana Al-Misri.

Ana Al-Misri looks at three different levels of society when trying to help and understand the children. At the first level they look at a child’s personal development both emotionally and physically. The second level contains the children’s immediate culture and environment and tries to understand how the child fits into these social structures. The third level focuses on how the children fit into a global society at a macro level.

AWTAD was our second stop, an organization which focuses on a wide variety of cultural needs. Their main focus is on the mentoring of women entrepreneurs, fostering self confidence and facilitating the implementation of their business plans. One facet of this is entitled Anamel Misria, "Egyptian Fingers," which focuses on training artisans so that they can use their trade as a reliable source of income.

AWTAD is also acting to promote women's health within Egypt. They began by attempting to spread awareness about breast cancer, but ran into cultural issues and had trouble garnering public support. But they switched their focus to women's health in general, and work to spread awareness of basic health issues and disease prevention measures.

The friendly and engaging staff plan to give volunteers a lot of freedom with their responsibilities, so we will be able to choose our own ways of contributing. AWTAD seems to have a far-reaching influence in a variety of areas, so volunteers will be able to work directly within a specific branch, or work in a more administrative position as they brainstorm ideas.

The last of stop on today's orientation marathon was Al-Kayan, a center that works with disabled children in Cairo. In addition to running after school programs and daytime programs, the center also works to change the image of the disabled in Cairo to a more positive one. Although we were exhausted by the time we arrived, we were all impressed by the clarity of their presentation.

Our responsibility at Al-Kayan for the summer is two-fold: to increase the size of their English network, including updating their website with English articles and links and contact similar NGOs in Europe and America, and to teach their staff English. The Al-Kayan directors outlined these expectations clearly, including specific suggestions on vocabulary selections and a comprehensive schedule.

By the end of Al-Kayan's presentation, we were left with very few questions, and we paused only to take a brief tour of the facility and some group pictures before heading back to Garden City to relax.

By: John, Lindsey, and Hannah