Coloring in the Lines

I think an overarching theme from my posts so far is that for every frustration in Cairo, there is an absurdity to make me laugh. Yesterday, this was not the case. Yesterday, I found myself furious and disgusted for the first time since I landed in Egypt. Last night, I went to see a movie with my English class as our weekly outing. The film was called "Limby 8 Giga," and as it was all in rapid Egyptian Arabic, I understood little to none of the dialogue - though at one point at the beginning of the film they had a conversation about 20 seconds about lentils (we learned the word for lentil in my Arabic class). Anyway my anger and disgust certainly weren't rooted in the lentil discussion or anything from the film itself, but rather from the attitudes of people around us and their treatment of our group. At the moment we arrived at the theater, we were forced into chairs and told that we had to order some food, and all that we wanted was apparently not a high enough fee. The waitress then hovered around looking menacing as we figured out what to order. This alone wouldn't have made me angry; I think it's just a part of the culture that I'm not used to. What started to get under my skin was the way the waitress literally reached onto the top of my co-teacher's purse to retrieve the 30 guinea we'd put aside to pay, rather than wait for it to be handed to her. As obnoxious as this was, I had yet to pick up on the situation as discrimination; I just thought it was rudeness. Then we were directed to the theater and were told to sit halfway back on the upper balcony, despite the fact that we were the first ones in the theater. Finally, the situation hit me - this was happening because we were with a large group of refugees - and I was furious. I wanted nothing more than to argue and have things set right. My co-teacher and I were discussing the situation when one of our students came over and told us that it was fine, they were happy to sit here. It's not that these kids have an ingrained sense of inferiority; they know that this behavior is unjust, but choose to act with patience in the face of a situation they cannot change rather than cause a fuss. We ended up quietly sitting in those seats, and by the time the movie started we had been joined by a number of Arab Egyptians, which diminished my fury. By the end of the event, I was still angry, but also embarrassed to have almost lost my cool in front of my students. I'm still digesting the whole encounter, but I can certainly say that this was the first real world challenge I've faced since coming to Cairo.

Unfortunately, today wasn't much easier - when I arrived at Ana Al-Misri, one of the staff told me that a bunch of the girls I've become close with tried to jump over the wall and leave the organization two days ago. He then asked me to talk to them about why this behavior was bad. I think I did a decent job (I mainly talked about the importance of home and having responsibility to it even when you don't like it), but honestly I felt completely unqualified to relate to these kids about their situations. When I asked what they thought about it now, they promised they wouldn't try again because they knew it felt wrong, and that they all wanted to see me again. As touching as this was, I have to admit I panicked a little (they do know that I'm leaving right?!), but they also promised that they wouldn't run away even after I'm home in America. I think I succeeded (kind of?) in lightening the mood, but it still put a damper on my morning.

Later in the afternoon at Ana Al-Misri, I was coloring with some of the youngest kids, and I noticed that all of the teachers were instructing the kids specifically to color in the lines, and actually criticizing when the students colored trees red instead of green. Maybe this is an attitude I picked up long after preschool, but I was totally shocked - it seemed like such a restraint on the kids creativity! Don't get me wrong: I love Ana Al-Misri, and the program does great things for the kids involved, but this forced coloring in the lines seemed very different from what I'm used to. (Although to be honest, I was always the kid who colored in the lines.) I also got to spend some more time with Imam, the little boy who loves me and cried when I left last Saturday. Seriously he might be the most adorable creature on the face of the planet. I wouldn't be surprised if he made it back to America in my suitcase.