Welcome to Misr

I figured it was about time that I write in my blog again.... I am going to be talking about the work that I've been doing and the volunteer work. I'll also touch upon what it's like to live in Egypt. Some of it will come out sounding negative, but you must keep in mind that I'm used to a much different way of handling things from growing up and living in the USA.

For the first month, I lived in Zamalek, which is one of the foreigner enclaves in Cairo. It's one area where you'll find rich Egyptians. You'll find many embassies here. It's not as crowded, compared to some other areas in Cairo. Here you'll find western amnentities, stores that cater to westerners, the ethnic restaurants, posh restaurants, bars/nightclubs, etc. I lived with two Americans.. I found them online. My mom really wanted me to have things situated before I came to Egypt. She actually wanted me to have someone to fly with, roommates picked out, an apartment here before I even set foot in Egypt, a job... I did a few of those. I emailed Cairo Scholars (a listserv that consists of expats and Egyptians living or wanting to live in Cairo), asking if I could fly and live with some people. I found B., who already had another roommate. They both study at American University in DC. They didn't know each other beforehand.. So, I met Brooke at the JFK airport, Carolyn at the youth hostel, and two other Americans, K. and L., at the hostel. (they study at AU, as well. They met Brooke and Carolyn at a study abroad meeting or had a class with C. and B.). All were insistent on living in Zamalek.. I sensed early on that it wouldn't be a bad idea to live in a different, CHEAPER, neighborhood in Cairo. I personally didn't want to spend the same or more money on an apartment in Cairo than in the US. Because of a fluke with Delta airlines (they made me change my flight), I didn't know if I was going to be staying in Cairo for longer than a month. Before I left the US, I was insanely nervous and didn't know what to expect. We decided that we'd only get a two bedroom apartment and after that, if I did end up staying longer, I'd find another apartment. In retrospect, I'm extremely lucky that this happened. I didn't particularly like the living arrangements. Now, I live in Dokki, an area that has more Egyptians in it. I live with an American guy and a Swedish couple. All of us are very chill with each other. I personally like Dokki.. I think people are nicer in this neighborhood than in Zamalek. Things are cheaper here, including rent. In Dokki, Egyptians engage with you more and are less formal.. There are probably multiple explanations for this. one of which is that they tend to work in businesses that are not catered to the "rich" foreigner, so that resentment is not there.

Almost a month into my stay, I had to go to the Mogamma. It was time for me to renew my tourist visa... The Mogamma is a government building located in/next to Tahrir Square (that's where the protests typically are). It's a huge, ugly building, that was donated to the Egyptians by the Russians. You go inside and right away you notice the flurry of action that's going on... People are constantly walking up and down the stairs--which is exactly what I ended up doing.
Where do I go? First floor. Go to first floor. Talk to Egyptian official--need to get copies of passport. I go downstairs to the original floor. Done. Go upstairs. You need pictures. Damn. Go back down to the original floor. Get picture taken, take note of the copier that looks like it's 50 years old. Laugh and wonder "How the hell is this copier still working?" Simplest answer: It's Egypt. Somehow things just end up working... So, I get the photos taken... Go back upstairs. Notice at one point that there's a man smoking in the building, right next to a window that has rails on it. Reminder: I'm definitely not at home. To get the visa, you have to stand in several lines. I go in the first one and people keep cutting in front of me. A black woman, around my age, wearing hijab, helps me along the way. She tells me where to go and then she mentions to me that I need to cut in front of me. Important lesson for living in Egypt. Throw away your ideas of "being polite." You HAVE to cut in front of people and there are times when you have to physically push people. I end up finding out that she's from Dijbouti and her name is Oumal (her name is actually longer) I give her my email address and we talk every now and then... I mention this whole experience because it leads to how I began teaching English.

Oumal wanted me to join her English class, so I agreed. Why not? It's cool to have a native speaker go to a language class. I go and the teacher, a Palestinian woman, randomly asks me if I would mind her asking the manager if I could teach there. Of course, I say, no, I don't mind. At the time, I had entirely too much time on my hands.. Taking an Arabic class a couple hours a day was not enough. After a couple days pass, I find out that the manager wants to talk to me. The "talking" lasts literally like 5 minutes and he barely glances at my resume. I started off with two privates lessons, one student each. I'd meet them whenever it was good for their schedule and mine. I think it's important to note that I was not told from the get-go that I was only going to have one student in my first class. He told me a couple minutes before the class was to begin that there was just one student, Ahmed. This made me a tad nervous because I had been thinking the whole time that I was teaching a CLASS of people and I planned around that.

My class with him is coming to an end. What we have done is use the little textbook that the school/institute provided. He'll ask questions about English. Some of the assignments I've given to him mainly consisted of watching music videos, completing exercises in the book. I told him to write a typical dialogue he'd have at work--just written in English. And we've talked about American culture--he has learned new things and I've cleared up some of the misconceptions he's had. One thing that was really difficult for me to explain is the issue of helping strangers, for example in the US. "I heard that people in the US are cold, not helpful..." I had probably mentioned how I really liked how helpful Egyptians are and complaining about how you don't find this generous/helpful spirit back home. All I could reply was that it was just different... Because afterall, the mentality in the US is that you can do it yourself--just keep trying. Personally, I took this to the extreme back home, but it's something that I learned that I need to throw out the window in Egypt. It's either discard this mentality or else go crazy in Egypt. For one, I wasn't about to replace the lightbulb when the socket was hanging by open wires. If I kept the "do it myself" then I'd be walking around for hours trying to find a grocery store. But back to my student...this is one instance where I don't think I did the greatest job at explaining my culture. It was made worse by the fact that I hated this aspect of American culture before I even left. My other student, Khaled, wanted to focus on improving his English to get a flight attendant job. We reviewed interview questions (I think he ended up memorizing the answers that I gave him. We read material about flight attendants and that sort of thing. Both students showed me glimpses into Egyptian culture--the ambiguity of Egyptian culture.

I also volunteered at an organization in Heliopolis, Cairo. Getting to Heliopolis is a hassle.. Frequently, I'll be in a car in the metro packed like a little sardine. Getting into the car is a lovely experience because I have to push through a swarm of women to get into it. (there are female cars in the metro) one time I held a woman's child because having a child squished in between many women is not the best idea. Plus, I haven't been around children for a while and Egyptian kids are the cutest... Anyyyhow, I taught English to a small group of Egyptians, all of whom were Coptic Christian, with the exception of one. I should have taken a picture of what I'll be discussing in a second. When you're a Copt, you frequently get a tattoo of a cross on the part of your arm that is close to the back of your hand. The church will provide this for a very cheap price (or it may be free??) when you're around three years old. (and before you gasp and say.. why would they do such a thing.. Please remind yourself that we pierce little girls ears when they're mere babies and do circumcision, etc.) From these students, I learned some important aspects of the Egyptian education system. There are different types of schooling: government, private, and experimental. Private education is very good, but only the extremely wealthy can afford it. For government schooling, students are "taught" English, starting at around age five. You can't tell. They basically are told to memorize many words and they don't really speak it that much in class. So, my students had had English for years and you would have never guessed. They were shy at speaking... I learned from them that as a language teacher, I need to assign less homework and homework that is geared towards what they were taught in school. They also showed me some interesting aspects of Egyptian culture; the one thing really infuriated me. At the end of their course, I was supposed to have them teach the class. I told them to give each other their emails and collaborate (I'll do this, you do this.. we can work on this together.. we'll do this for 8 minutes, you do yours for..etc. etc.) Two of the women said that they didn't want to give their email addresses to the others. I said "why?" "We don't know them.." At this point, I was really ticked off and told them to make a new email address. They never did that. And no one emailed each other. So, on the last day of class, I had a student (one of whom said that she didn't want to give her email address out) who had nothing prepared. She said "I'll talk about cleopatra." DEAR GOD. Two ended up talking about the same thing. One didn't have anything (she never emailed me to find out what the homework was) prepared and so she had the class play mafia. One read her essay from a previous assignment. Yeah...I was really mad. One did a really good job--she brought an English song, did not allow them to see the words, and had them briefly discuss the song. At least I can laugh about it now.

My reasons for coming here and remaining here have evolved over time. In the planning stages, it was this: I studied anthropology, which means I’m quite literally a nerd when it comes to learning about cultures. So, I wanted to learn some Arabic, educate myself about the Middle East and Islam, learn about different ways of life, etc. etc. I wanted to come here to do those things for myself and for others. When talking to fellow Americans, for example, I want to be able to provide first-hand experience about these topics. I get so tired of hearing peoples’ ignorant comments regarding Islam, Muslims, and the Middle East. (FYI: Islam is the religion; Muslims are the individuals that practice Islam. ) These ignorant comments are due to a lack of knowledge. The last set of reasons are personal. I needed to learn more about myself.. Going to a foreign country, especially one that is vastly different than yours, puts you in a vulnerable position. You have to deal with what comes your way, whether it be having trouble finding girly products or having to sit and listen to people insult the things that you hate about your country too.(Both I've had to deal with I needed to also leave the USA to get some glimpses as to what else is out there. There are aspects of American culture that disturb and bother me. I was hoping to see a different reality, a different possibility...

Unfortunately, I keep forgetting about my love of learning about other cultures. It came out again when one day, my old Arabic teacher took something out of his pocket. I said “what’s that?” He handed it to me and I smelled it. It literally looked like a twig. He laughed, said every time I hand something to you, you smell it. ☺ Over a native toothbrush, I got extremely excited. “This is something you’d show in an anthropology class!” He said that he had read somewhere about their being 20 benefits for this tooth brush (one is that unlike the toothbrushes we all use back home, bacteria in the mouth do not become immune to it). However, this love of mine keeps getting lost in the midst of dealing with culture shock, finding things, dealing with men bothering me (Are you married? Are you dating someone? Will you give me your number?) , and being shy. Yes, shy. I’d like to ask Egyptians about how they feel about philosophical questions, what inspires them… I saw glimpses of this when I sat in on an English class. In this class a British man was working to help Egyptian men and women improve their English. He asked them: what they imagine for Egypt, what they inspire for themselves…. A lot of what they were saying, you’d hear Americans say in an English lit class, as they’re speaking about Thoreau. “After the revolution, now we can dream. I want to teach my kids to dream… People just live for a job (for the money) and to get married… I want to use my talents to assist…” They brought me back to reality: don’t waste your time, strive higher. And yet, time and time again, it’s so damn easy to fall into this trap… Because of that British guy, Alex, I assigned Robert Frost’s poem “Two roads diverged…..” to my students.

So, I decided that I should stop being lazy and create a blog. I did create one a bit ago, but I never published anything on it. I sincerely hope that some people actually decide to read my lovely blog… I’d like people to know what’s going on in my life and also learn about Egypt. ☺ Also, I realized that I really need to record my thoughts—there are moments in my life where I actually need to write down what I’m experiencing and how I’m feeling. It’s good to sit back and think about how you really feel, what your opinions are exactly..

I’ve been in Egypt (Arabic: Misr) since August 21st. What I was thinking before I left home merits some mention… Before I left the states, I was, to put it simply, extremely nervous. Here I was, simultaneously hoping that I would follow through with this goal of mine and being afraid of going through with it as well. I dealt with it by consciously attempting to not think about it. That’s not to say that I was not thinking about Egypt at all—I had to buy new clothes and other necessities, contact my roommates, etc. etc. Truth be told, I was not “excited” in a good way. In the approaching weeks, I balled—oh my god I’m going to Egypt, oh my god, what if I don’t go? The night before I left, I also cried. It’s crazy how you can want something and be absolutely terrified of it. Coming here meant a lot to me on so many levels. For one, it was my dream. Back home, I always read these travel stories—books where a woman would travel to a foreign country and transform into another person. I loved those books. Secondly, I needed to prove to others and myself that I could go through with traveling to Egypt. It became especially pertinent after I did not come in 2010.

Anyhow, after not sleeping at all, I “woke” up in the morning. In all honesty, I never really ended up sleeping. I reorganized my suitcases at the last minute.. blah blah. Cried some more when I had to say good-bye to my Mom. It still upsets me, thinking about that. My sister, Ashley, Taylor, and my Dad finally arrived at the Pittsburgh International Airport. I discovered, along with another woman heading to Cairo, that I had to change my flight (it has since been changed back to its original state, after I screamed at delta on skype, in a café full of men watching a soccer game) . Due to my fear, I was actually grateful: oh yeah, okay, a month I can do.. that’s better than four months.. Because of this set-back, I got on my flight really late. And then, there I was: flying to NYC, by myself.

At the JFK airport, I met my first roommate, Brooke A couple hours later, we flew to Amsterdam. (sorry mom.. only one picture from Amsterdam.. not a good one). I didn’t exactly like flying over the ocean.. It wasn’t because I was afraid. It was just I could not sleep in any position that I need to sleep in to get some rest. And…then I was in Cairo in the early afternoon! One of my first interactions with an Egyptian was in the restroom.. At certain restrooms in Egypt, someone will provide you with toilet paper (especially to the westerners). I was supposed to tip the woman, but I didn’t have any Egyptian cash on me at that point. My roommate had made arrangements with the youth hostel, Meramees, to pick us up at the airport. I quietly laughed when I saw our transportation—it was a beat up car (I wish that I had taken a picture of it) that lacked seat belts, I believe. Some of our suitcases were shoved in the front seat, which amused me. I have since seen that Egyptians use whatever they can and do whatever they can to solve a problem.. We were in the car a while. I came to Egypt during Ramadan and so when we had arrived, it was a couple hours before the Egyptian Muslims were going to break their fast. So, a combination of that and the fact that traffic here is horrendous, resulted in us being in the car too long.
(*Ramadan is a holy month for Muslims. It falls on a different time every year. They fast from sunrise to sunset. During this fast, they abstain from eating food, drinking liquids, engaging in sexual activities, chewing gum, and smoking. Fasting during ramadan is one of the requirements or one of the five pillars of Islam. A Muslim is supposed to participate in Ramadan because fasting is thought to encourage one to think more about God and less about worldly things and secondly, it is thought that fasting will enable a person to understand what a poor person goes through every day of his or her life. *)

Finally, we arrived at the youth hostel, Meramees. I felt really strange because here we were—Brooke and myself---on a street in downtown Cairo, sticking out like sore thumbs. You will see more men than women wherever you go in Cairo.. Anyway, the youth hostel was located in a building that had other businesses in it as well. Upon entering, you see a man that is handling the old fashioned elevators and who sleeps on a mat during the night. Once we were in our room, I couldn’t really sleep. The time difference, jet-lag, excitement, etc. just resulted in insomnia. When we were in the lobby, Brooke and I were offered food by one of the employees. I was extremely grateful because I really needed food.. This guy was also a prime example of how nice Egyptian people are… It’s starkly different from the US, where people would not think to offer food in a situation like that. When the others (other Americans from American University (DC) that went to school with Brooke) came, we went out to a street café. And boy, I experienced firsthand how a lot (note: not all! ) of Egyptian men stare.. they like to stare at foreign women.
At the outdoor café, I received some more shock: street sellers and poverty. The whole entire time that we were outside sitting down, we were approached by individuals attempting to sell Kleenexes (a big deal here in Cairo) , peanuts (I think), jewelry, etc. etc. Women, men, and children will approach you. I always wondered how people dealt with that sort of thing when traveling abroad. How can one not be bothered by it? Now, from personal experience, I can say that overtime, you adjust to it. The way that I look at it is this: you cannot care about this sort of thing every single time. You’ll go crazy. And you start adjusting to the fact that this is just life in a country, simple as that. This last one is difficult for me to explain… I have my life that I was born in and that woman selling Kleenexes has her life, her reality..