Never to Full for Ful

Today my Arabic class took a trip to Cairo's beautiful Al-Azhar Park. This place is honestly incredible - it's the greenest spot in the city, and it sits high enough that you have a view of all of Islamic Cairo. Apparently the area used to be a complete dump (as in literally filled with trash), but it has been utterly transformed. The juxtaposition between the garden and the rest of the city is also interesting - from the lush and manicured lawns of Al-Azhar, you can see only dusty yellowish-tan into the distance. The area immediately around the park is a mix of crumbling apartment buildings and historic sites, with minarets popping up every so often. In the distance, you can make out the skyscrapers and hotels downtown through the pollution and dust. I realize that "dusty yellowish-tan" and "crumbling apartment buildings" don't seem all that pretty, but somehow the combination of these with the palm trees and the shine of the Nile at night and the 1920s style buildings create Cairo's appeal and charm. Our time at the park itself was fun, and we got to meet other American students at Arab Academy. Most were very friendly, but as they were from other ACC schools, they weren't necessarily thrilled to meet a group of Duke students... I guess sports rivalries extend across continents also. Our teachers had brought us ful and tamaya sandwiches, which they of course offered us nonstop for the entire morning (typical Egyptian hospitality - "I'm full" is not an acceptable answer).

Tonight in my English class, we had a speaker who taught about the UNHCR and refugee determination procedures. It was heart-wrenching to hear about some of the negative experiences my students had had in Cairo, and most of the time I felt almost like an intruder on their struggle. I won't get into too many details here, but I wrote another post on the main DukeEngage blog (link to the right) that talks more about my impressions.

Another completely unrelated thing: I was thinking today about Arabic slang, and I realized that they have an absurd number of idioms that involve types of fruit. (I swear this was kind of relevant... I taught the phrase "apple of my eye" to my English class, which started the thought process). For example, Egyptians refer to a pretty girl as a "mouza," meaning "banana." I can't really go anywhere with my group from Duke without hearing "mouzas mouzas" muttered at least once. They also use the phrase "fi mishmish," meaning "in the apricot," to say "in your dreams" ... I'm not really sure what that's about. I also remember learning from a former TA at Duke that in Syria they use the word for watermelon ("bawtikh") to mean "stuff" ... again, not sure why. As crazy as these sound, I know English has odd expressions, some of which I've tried to explain to my students to varying degrees of success.

Throwbacks

This morning seemed doomed for failure. I woke up only twenty minutes before our bus was supposed to arrive to take us to Ana Al-Misri, the bus was then late (even though I managed to be downstairs on time), the bus driver didn’t know the directions (and not speaking much ‘Amia, we couldn’t help him), and when we arrived (finally) we found out that the organization was extremely understaffed – all fantastic. However, as is typical of Egypt, for all the frustrations, there is a equal or greater amount of humor to be found. For example, the van that finally came to pick us up had electric blue shag seat covers with teddy bears embroidered on them. And for some odd reason, the bus driver picked up a number of people whom we had stopped to ask directions, drove them each about 50 feet before dropping them to pick up someone else.

Then there was Ana Al-Misri itself. Though it’s lack of organization still drives me crazy, the kids' excitement completely balances it out. Recently we've started teaching them the clapping game "Miss Mary Mac," which was very popular when I was in about third grade - talk about a throwback. Everyone loves this game, but none more than the eight-year-old boys. One in particular, named Mustafa, gets such an excited expression on his face when we play that he almost looks frenzied. This image is multiplied immensely by the fact that he is missing his upper front teeth, and his tongue pokes out a little through his grin. When combined with his mild bouncing as he starts to get into the game and the fact that his eyes start to bug out of his head, he looks a tad bit insane, but also adorable. I spent the second half of my morning at Ana Al-Misri french-braiding the hair of the girls who live there. As fun as it was, I have the feeling that I will not be doing anything else for a while - like with Miss Mary Mac, the kids tend to get hooked on one particular game or thing that we entertain them with.

Another throwback of today came with the second song we played to our English class: Miley Cyrus's "See You Again." Although it's a tad annoying that I still have it stuck in my head, it was wonderful to see all of our students pouring over the lyrics and humming the tune as they leave the classroom.

A Taste of Home

Though I've been loving my time in Cairo and am excited to spend the next month here, today I found myself talking about home quite a bit. It started off this morning in class, where we were reviewing our new vocabulary. One word was "architecture," and my teacher mentioned that she liked the architecture in America. Immediately all the students began talking about how beautiful the architecture is at our university, and we pulled up pictures online to show the teacher. She was floored at how gorgeous it was and kept saying that she couldn't believe she really went to school there. We told her that she should come visit us, and we would give her a tour (she replied "in sha allah," meaning "God willing" - it accompanies almost any statement set in the future here). For the first time, I really missed my life in America and felt anxious to return. The mentions of America continued later in the class, when one girl asked an obvious question, then said "Fi Amreeka naqool 'DUH'" ("In America we say 'DUH'"), and we all erupted into laughter. This type of thing happens often in class, when one of us struggles to express something funny in Arabic and can't find the words, but the others all understand the joke and begin laughing while our teacher looks on confusedly. We realized after class today that our one teacher has the same expression and phrase (Hasalan, meaning OK) for when he agrees with us and when he has no clue what we are saying. These moments are decreasing in frequency as our Arabic improves and the cultural divide between students and teacher lessens, but today's class included an especially bad bout of giggles for all of us.

The timing of this homesickness was perfect as I actually returned to the US today... sort of. For our weekly lecture, we visited the American embassy and attended what was essentially a recruiting session for the foreign service. I think for some people this was a little boring, since they aren't interested in the State Department at all, but for me it was good to hear the insights of these Americans working at an embassy in the Middle East. I even found out that one of the women grew up in the same area as I did and attended a high school where many of my friends went. The talk was helpful and exciting for me, even if it didn't have that much to do with our program itself. I thought that the only disappointing thing about the embassy visit was that we saw them setting up for their 4th of July celebration, but did not succeed in attaining an invite.

The Accident

It was only a matter of time before I witnessed a car accident on the streets of Cairo. After all, I think I mention the horrors of Egyptian driving in every other post. However, I never expected to be part of said accident. As I was riding with the rest of the group on a microbus to work at Ana Al-Misri, which is out in the suburbs and an hour long drive, the streets were packed as usual. There were about six lanes of traffic going on a road marked for four (standard), and as we inched along past the pyramids into the desert, I started thinking how claustrophobic driving in Cairo can make you since the other cars are so close. All of the sudden, we felt a lurch, and all seven of us looked at each other; we had obviously been hit from behind and were all unsure of the protocol for crashes in Cairo. Would the cops be called? Would insurance information be exchanged? Does auto insurance even exist in Egypt? We got our answer about half a second later, as yelling erupted from behind the van; apparently this would be solved the Egyptian way – via heated argument. I think a small car tried to squeeze in behind us and in front of a large truck, and the car ended up scrunched between the two larger vehicles. As the truck driver and car owner screamed at each other on the middle of the highway, our bus driver calmly got out, assessed the damage to his van (basically none), then got back in the bus and drove us away, leaving the other two to sort it out.

When we got to Ana Al-Misri, our main contact was late due to a traffic accident (probably the one we were involved in). As usual, our two hours there were semi-organized chaos. What distinguished today was the outpouring of love I received from all of the kids I’ve gotten to know. One of the staff told me that a fifteen-year-old girl named Khulud hadn’t left her room all day until I arrived (at least I think that’s what he said… he doesn’t speak any English), and as I was leaving, one three- or four-year-old boy named Imam, who I just met today, sobbed uncontrollably as I was leaving (my attempts at telling him that I would be back on Monday were fruitless). I spent most of my time there today playing “Miss Mary Mac,” which makes every child from 15-year-old Khulud to the youngest boys amazingly happy. Although before I left, Khulud did mention that the song she really wants to learn is “What Money,” which is not a song I know – unless she means “Got Money?” Seriously what is it with these Egyptians and Lil Wayne?

Pimpinos and the Bussy Cat Cafe

Hey everyone, sorry for the shortage of posts recently. I would have written last night, but last night we were taking a little vacation in Alexandria, or in Arabic, Al-Iskandria. Our professor said as we were departing Cairo that the trip was just intended for us to relax and escape the city, which was exactly what all of us needed. Upon arriving in Alexandria, however, we found out that the seaside city is actually very similar to Cairo. Both are busy and crowded, with the same faded early 1900s architecture, and in both, foreigners attract a lot of attention. As we were walking out to get a good view of the Mediterranean (such views aren't hard to come by, the entire coastal edge of the city is gorgeous, but we were heading towards a particularly choice area with much crashing and splashing of the waves), a man came up to me and asked me 5 times if I would pose for a picture with his children - really awkward. The major difference between the two cities is weather - the sea air makes Alexandria much cooler and cleaner than Cairo. It was actually a bit chilly in the wind last night as we walked along the coast. Another difference: in Alexandria, there was a road that we were advised not to attempt to cross under any circumstances. I've written about this before, but as a reminder: there aren't really crosswalks in Egypt; people just cross the street wherever they can/want, a la Frogger. However, as we drove on the main highway that borders the sea, called the Corniche, our project adviser told us that people get in accidents and die every day on the Corniche, so we should just use the tunnels that run underneath the road. All driving/street-crossing/traffic interactions in Cairo kind of scare me, so when I heard that this road was forbidden to cross, I was slightly terrified. Of course, when we actually tried to find a tunnel, we were told that there were none for long ways down the road. Luckily (like in Cairo), we found a police man to stop traffic for us so we could make it across.

One thing that holds true for all of Egypt is their confusion over the English letters "b" and "p." In Arabic, there is no "p" sound ("Egypt" isn't actually the name of the country in Arabic, it's "Misr"), so the letter "b" is substituted into any English words written in Arabic characters. However, this can lead to some confusion when the word is re-translated into English. For example, last Wednesday I watched a soccer game with my class at the "Bussy Cat Cafe" in Cairo, and today as we were walking around Alexandria, we spotted a children's clothing store called "Pimpino" (no, I'm not making this up), instead of "bambino," meaning baby in Italian. As if the name weren't ridiculous enough, most children's stores in Egypt use oversized versions of those creepy blinky-eye dolls as mannequins, so the combined effect made me laugh so hard I couldn't walk for about five minutes.

Despite this entertaining find, the highlights of Alexandria for me were the sea views and the library. Although the collection at the Great Library of Alexandria is still in the building phase (I think they have around 1 million volumes now), there was something incredible about standing in the library of Alexandria. The building itself is very modern and gorgeous, with incredible technology that keeps the huge reading room quiet. The main building is meant to represent the sun, while the spherical planetarium represents the earth. We took a tour of the exhibits, but to me the best part by far was just walking up and down the aisles of books, and occasionally reading a few pages. Alexandria was truly a wonderful vacation and getaway from the grind of our lives in Cairo, but I feel energized and ready to get back to it (at least I will after some more sleep). Masa al-khair!

Mayhem at the Metro Mini Mall

Another thing I've been meaning to write about: the Cairo metro system. On the surface, the metro here seems surprisingly clean and simple; it is so lacking in craziness and confusion that it's almost un-Egyptian. Tickets are 1 guinea to go anywhere in the city, the line system is straightforward, and the whole facility is very clean. I generally ride in one of the two women-only cars on every train, which are quiet and less crowded than the other cars, so I frequently get a seat. However, there is an underlying insanity to the Cairo metro which makes it distinct from the ones that I am used to. The main drawback of the metro is its reach - there are plenty of places within in Cairo you can't reach by metro, and the system can't be expanded because of the density of historical remains in the city. Apparently, every time they try to drill to clear out more tunnels, they unearth some historical artifact, and construction must stop while the archaeologists take over. Our group actually was having an argument recently about whether you could ride the metro to a particular area of Cairo, only to discover that the place marked on the map as a metro stop did not exist - that line had been under construction for the past fifteen years. Then there's the cars themselves (some of which have logos reading "A Gift from the People of Japan" ... I have no idea what that is about). As nice and spacious as the women's car is, I find that there's always a strange kind of tension, like every single person there is inspecting me. Because I'm surrounded by women all wearing similar clothing and almost all with their hair covered, I feel as though I stand out most when I'm on a metro car. Additionally, the fact that we're standing in a small metal box and not passing each other allows a much greater opportunity to stare for an extended period of time, rather than just glancing at the oddly dressed foreigner as we walk by each other. It's not like anyone has ever been anything but polite openly to me and the rest of our group, but their over-interest in my appearance is palpable in the humid air of the train, which makes me feel at least a tad awkward. The craziest part by far of the metro experience is the people who sell things outside the stations. Their goods range from fresh vegetables to sunglasses to clothing to toys to books to roasted corn. One particular man sells these little robotic yelping cats/dogs (I'm not actually sure which; they look more like dogs, but they sound like cats) which walk around his little area of the plaza creepily. At some stops they spread their wares on blankets on the ground, while at others (such as the one by the place I teach) they have large wooden panels which hold everything. One time as I was walking by, every single salesman stood up, balanced his panel (complete with items for sale) on his head, and suddenly started hurrying in another direction. I have no idea why - they aren't doing anything illegal as far as I know - but I wound up trapped between some of them and ducking to avoid the wooden corners flying through the air. I somehow managed to escape, but not before I received a big bump on the head.

A Sandwich Wrapped in Homework

This morning at Ana Al-Misri we finally had a frank(ish) talk about our role at the organization, disciplinary procedures, etc. There was something of a language barrier, and not even between English and Arabic, but Portuguese (remember that a lot of the staff are Brazilian), which definitely hindered us at some points in the discussion. For example, one girl from our group asked, "I know that we should never find ourselves without a social worker around to sort out any problems, but what if that happens? What should we do?" and her response was, "You will never be left alone with the children." Clearly on some points the discussion wasn't very helpful, but it was good to hear some more about their expectations for us (we're here to provide programming plans, not disciplinary support). More importantly, it was nice to hear them admit that we are their first group in their volunteer program, and thus their guinea pigs in a way. If anything, it makes me feel more confident that not all of the mistakes and mishaps that occur are our fault, but more of a communication problem on both sides. I am also hopeful that this untested volunteer structure will give us some room to shape it for ourselves, and help to make the process of volunteering at Ana Al-Misri smoother and clearer.

After work, I went to get a sandwich, but at a different shop than the usual one I discussed yesterday. (On a side note, I stopped by the usual restaurant after teaching tonight, and the man working there asked both me and my friend if we would be interested in marrying him and moving to America together.... awkward.) I got a different kind of sandwich with both ful AND tamaya called "Sandwich Meshakal," which I think means "problem sandwich." The sandwich itself was delicious and not at all problematic, except for one oddity - I'm almost positive it was wrapped in someone's homework paper. At least, it was a piece of white paper with Arabic typed on it, and there were red marks and words circled on it, so I'm assuming it was at one point someone's homework. How it ended up in a sandwich shop covered in grease though, I couldn't tell you.

In the evening, I had my second true English class, where we taught numbers and telling time. I'm actually very proud of how our lesson plan worked out. We started with numbers, which some needed a bit of review on, then progressed onto telling time from an analog clock. Again I think most people knew this, but they needed practice saying the times out loud. By the end of the class, we had introduced phrases like "half past" and "quarter til" which I don't think anyone knew, so we touched on all skill levels - success! However good that success felt, the best part of the class didn't have anything to do with time or numbers. My teaching partner and I decided that we would try to work in some song lyrics and American slang, following the students' requests for Lil Wayne and Miley Cyrus. We kicked off this tradition by learning the chorus to "Down" by Jay Sean and teaching the slang use of "down" to mean "I agree" (as Jay Sean asks, "Baby, are you down, down, down, etc...?") Not only did the kids catch on to the slang meaning "I am down" and the difference between "lonely" and "only," they even sang along to the chorus when we listened to the music. We didn't get to bring full lyrics sheets to all the students - the copy machine was broken, so they each got a slip of paper with the chorus handwritten - but one particularly precocious student followed along with the whole song (including Lil Wayne's rap) on our one print out. It was truly heartwarming and exciting to see him so eager to learn, and to me, his enthusiasm was the true success of the evening. So my lovely readers, I actually have a request for you tonight: please help me brainstorm other popular songs with some type of tame slang in the chorus that doesn't have any swear words or bad grammar in it. My other idea at this point is "See You Again" by Miley Cyrus, and we can teach the phrase "freak out" (as in "the last time I freaked out"), but after that I'm clueless. Any ideas you have would be greatly appreciated... thanks so much, and have a good night!

Be Aggressive. Be-e Aggressive.

After Arabic class this morning, I walked to this phenomenal sandwich shop a few blocks away from our apartment with another girl from my program. This place is legit - they serve tamaya (falafel), ful (beans), and potato sandwiches (it's literally a pita stuffed with fries and salad... simple but amazing), and the prices are ridiculous. 1 Egyptian pound for tamaya or ful and 1.5 for potato. For those unfamiliar with the current exchange rate between Egypt and the US, that is less than 20 (or 30) cents per sandwich. Unbelievable. There is a bit of a catch though - you have to be fairly aggressive to actually place your order. After you pay, you get a little slip of paper that says how much money you paid, then you have to fight your way up to a counter which is only a few inches shorter than me, attract the attention of the guy behind it, and yell your order over the noise of the huge pot where falafel is frying 6 inches to the right. To be honest, it isn't all that difficult for me to get the guy's attention - I stand out as generally the only white girl in the cramped shop, but the whole pushing and shoving and line-cutting is a bit different than the orderly and chill lines that I'm used to at Subway.

Yet another thing I'm not used to - sandstorms. This evening I headed out to a coffee shop called Cilantro to use their WiFi and do some work (I technically don't have internet in the apartment yet; we sketchily borrow from some of our neighbors), and on the way the wind picked up, blowing dust everywhere. I was wearing my gigantic sunglasses (even though the sun was setting) and had my hands cupped around them, and I still ended up with dust in my eyes and everywhere else. When I got out of the shower I found a bit in my ears that I had missed... gross. This wasn't my first sandstorm in Cairo; we actually flew into the city during one. It was really strange, I was looking out the window, trying to find the pyramids, and everything was really cloudy, so I figured we were descending through some huge clouds (colored funny because of pollution)... and then we landed. The whole city was in a kind of haze, and it made me feel dirty just to stand outside and wait for the bus. According to a few people we know in Cairo, that day was the worst dust storm they could remember, and it hasn't been nearly as disgusting since then (seriously today wasn't even close, though it was still bad). Hopefully tomorrow will be sandstorm free, since I'll be spending the morning truly out in the desert (i.e. not on the fertile banks of the Nile) at Ana Al-Misri. Masa al-khair!

Stick Fencing and Some Sketchy Stairwells

In my Arabic class, our lessons cover a wide variety of political and cultural topics: poverty and extravagance, traditional art forms, and - today - stick fencing. Stick fencing (called al-tahteeb in Arabic) is kind of like fighting with sticks (shocker) but more like a dance than an actual battle... think Latin American capoeira, or breakdance-fighting a la Zoolander. In addition to talking about it and watching clips on YouTube (one of which was prefaced by many rounds of gun shots fired into the air; I think the instructor was trying to show us the aggression involved, but it was just really weird and kind of awkward), we actually did a little stick fighting in our tiny classroom. I was not terribly successful, in case you were wondering, but the mini tournament we had was entertaining, ending with one student fighting our teacher. Earlier in class, we had taken a break to make papaya juice, just because the same instructor happened to have a papaya tree in his back yard and decided to bring one in for us. All in all, I had a very entertaining and energizing morning before heading to Ana Al-Misri. For once, the kids were kind of relaxed there. Instead of chasing down little children and breaking up fights (although I did have to confiscate a few big pieces of wood and some rocks when I got there... one boy kept looking as though he was going to throw something), I spent the afternoon painting the nails of a few girls in their room upstairs. After I had to painstakingly redo the hearts that I'd added to one's nails over and over again, it made me realize that what these kids want more than anything else is attention - luckily something that isn't too difficult to give, as long as you don't just direct it at the troublemakers. After this visit, I am starting to feel a little better about my role at Ana Al-Misri. I've realized that even if things don't go as planned, or if no planned things happened at all, my presence and attention to these kids isn't useless. One girl actually asked me today (through a translator), "Who are you? What are you doing here?" It's weird for me to think that these kids don't understand that I'm volunteering my time to help them or view me as some kind of service provider at all, rather just some random girl who shows up and plays for a few hours a couple times a week. Then again, as I'm not entirely sure what my official role at the organization is, maybe her confusion is understandable.

Total side note: but I've been meaning for a while to talk about the extremely sketchy stairwells in my apartment building. There are two, one that is actually used to get from one floor to another (which we call the just plain "sketchy stairs") and one where we put our trash which is eventually collected (which is the "absolutely and utterly terrifying stairwell"). The absolutely and utterly terrifying stairwell I go into as little as possible, only when it is necessary to empty our trash into the cans on the stair landing on our floor, and it also happens to be inhabited by cats (much like the rest of Cairo) which rummage around loose garbage for food. The sketchy stairwell we actually use to go downstairs, though you can't go up because the door to our floor is locked from the stairwell side. Often, this stairwell is completely dark, even though there are windows (most of which are eerily broken)... I'm not really sure what they're supposed to look out at; I avoid glancing out of them at all costs. Luckily my basic phone that I picked up here has a flashlight built-in, so I can normally make out a few feet ahead of me and not trip. Then there are the walls, which have chalk marks and scratchings in them, almost like someone tried to claw their way out at certain points. The weirdest part of all is that as you walk down them, you can see onto every floor - none of which are alike. There are a few floors of businesses (including a construction firm and a bank), one floor with a bunch of prayer mats lined up, one floor that is completely under construction so it looks like nothing, one floor that looks like you're walking through a sitting area, etc etc. So... that's my apartment building! There is also an elevator, but it's tiny and has a habit of getting stuck on occasion, so it's not necessarily the safer option. Sketchy as all this sounds, my apartment building is really wonderful, and we have the sweetest bawab (doorman), who always chats with us about soccer and let's us watch with him as we wait for the elevator. That's all I've got for now... ma salama!

Close Enough to Touch

Friday mornings in Cairo are truly blissful - as it is the holy day for Muslims, few people are on the roads and traffic (and thus honking) is at a minimum, and I have no class or work, so I can wake up leisurely late in the morning to the sound of the call to prayer. Though I eventually had to get down to laundry and homework (like any weekend day in college), in the afternoon I set off with the group to explore Coptic Cairo. As I said earlier, Copts are Christian Egyptians, and the majority of churches and Christian cemeteries are located in a particular part of town. We spent the afternoon walking around the shops and churches, particularly that of St. George, where people leave prayers and charity money in his crypt. The most interesting part of the trip to me, however, was the Coptic museum. While the ruins and artifacts were beautiful, the part of the museum that caught my attention was the structure of the museum itself. The building was overwhelmed with artifacts - pieces of paintings, pieces of tapestries, the capitals of columns, old books, pipes, lanterns, everything. A large portion of this historical stuff wasn't even encased behind glass or behind a velvet rope... it was just chilling in the middle of a big room. This utterly blew my mind - what was stopping me from touching this really ancient piece of stonework: absolutely nothing. I'm sure if someone saw me do it, I would have gotten in trouble, but that would have been after the fact. It would have been really easy to reach out and poke a Corinthian style column from the early monastic period. (And no, I didn't touch anything... let's be serious: I'm kind of a goody two-shoes when it comes to museum etiquette). Aside from the ease of touching things in the museum, there was little to no description of anything in the rooms. Not only were the plaques on individual pieces small and not very helpful, there were little to no signs of an overlapping theme for the room or an explanation of Coptic history. Of the few signs I saw, about half of them had exactly the same blurb (in English, Arabic, and French) about Coptic textile-production (mildly fascinating the first time, barely attention-grabbing the second, and it kept going down hill). As we left, thoroughly overwhelmed by the shear volume of stuff in the museum, we were chased down by a security guard who insisted on giving us a tour of one last room and then reminded us about 10 times that we had to tip security on our way out. To put the icing on the cake, later in the day I met some friends of our program director, one of whom knows an Egyptologist and informed me that all of the plaques in the Coptic museum are blatantly historically incorrect. Typical Cairo - so much to offer that in the end you wind up a bit confused.

Frustrations

Tonight we had our weekly reflection dinner, where we get together as a group to discuss how our week was, our progress in all our projects, what we still have to accomplish, etc. However, tonight's discussion was more like an airing of our grievances with the program itself. The main problem we are all facing is that no one except for the 13 students and our 2 advisers truly understands the scope of all that we are doing. Our program has three separate segments: taking intensive Arabic language classes, teaching English to refugees, and then our additional NGO work (street kids at Ana Al-Misri for me). Our contacts at each of these sites behave as though theirs is the only responsibility we have while in Egypt, and any one segment could make for a fulfilling study/work abroad experience on its own. Yet as we stand now, none of us have time to do 3 hours of Arabic homework and go to a church to interview Coptics (Christian Egyptians) and extensively plan lessons, including going downtown to check out library resources and make photocopies, and devise games and art projects on the side. The result is the feeling that all of our responsibilities suffer, and that we can never do our best at one thing because we are being pulled in so many directions. And this leads to another question - if we can't provide the best English classes (or whatever) possible, then why are we here? Why am I bothering to do (or try to do) so much, when inevitably I can't succeed in all three? Part of the answer, at least as I see it now, is my own exposure to the system present in the Middle East and the creation of new bonds and bridges between communities. However all that seems to be in the distant future, and the practical stresses of this life have left all of us a little frustrated.

Lil Wayne Is Not Allowed to Teach English

So today was my first day of class... hooray! I know, it was supposed to be yesterday, however a massive power outage made my classroom unusable, so I had to postpone. Actually the process of spreading the word about the cancellation taught me an interesting lesson about Egypt: the infrastructure and information spreading mechanism is essentially non-existent. The whole question of whether we had class and whether our students knew was up in the air for an extended period of time. At one point I was on the phone with our community facilitator, who hadn't heard about the power outage, while my friend was on the phone with the program director, who said that the community facilitator was calling all the students. I think that this lack of structure and over organization that exists in my life at home is actually very descriptive of Egypt as a whole - the way that there is never one definite process of how to solve a problem (for example, why don't we have our own WiFi, even though we've called the company everyday), and the way that people always run late, and the fact that there aren't really crosswalks... the people and the cars just kind of flow together. Which sounds horrifyingly dangerous to my American view point, and it might be, but somehow it all just fits in Egypt - I think that living here in the Cairo heat without that kind of lax attitude would be miserable. But back to my teaching experience...

I was more than a tad nervous to start teaching these kids; although they all seem very sweet, making lesson plans is far more overwhelming than I had imagined. The class started out a little depressing - 15 minutes into the period only 4 students had shown up. However within the next 15, we had a full classroom. We got the kids started on some basic introductions ("Hi, my name is" and "Nice to meet you.") Even though I think most kids already knew these phrases, what they really need is practice and a chance to build confidence in their English speaking ability. We drilled these phrases again and again, and by the end I think most of the kids were a little bored with the subject matter, even if the activities were enjoyable. However there is one student who speaks almost no English, and he is one of the few students not from Eritrea in our group. That makes the class dynamic a little awkward - the students generally understand what we say, and then our community facilitator can translate the more complicated instructions into Tigrinya (their native language), but then he must explain the instructions again in Arabic to the one Sudanese student. However I think it'll all work out, and having one day of teaching under my belt makes me more comfortable planning lessons for the future. At the end of the class, we asked the students for their suggestions - anything they wanted to talk about in particular, places we could go on class trips, songs or TV shows that want to watch or understand better. The responses we got in regard to song requests were the following (in the order they were told to us): Eminem, Eminem, Eminem, Lil Wayne, Miley Cyrus, Hannah Montana (who is the same person as Miley Cyrus, but whatever), and Bryan Adams. Personally, I'm all for teaching pop culture to these kids, but under no circumstances will Lil Wayne teach anyone English - the hard-ass grammarian in me will not allow it. Maybe, just maybe, I will find a heavily edited version that lacks egregious grammatical mistakes, and we can sing a few lines, but I think that might be pushing it. "Summer of '69" it is... gotta run for now, I have to be up early and head to Ana Al-Misri. Masa al-khair!

Blood, Sweat, and Tears

Day Two of work at Ana Al-Misri. Though today was slightly more structured, it was still a bit of mayhem. I started the morning working in the computer lab, which honestly made me feel useless. There were only about 5 kids in there and far too many staff with me and another girl from my program, and most of the kids knew how to get to the games they wanted to play anyway. Then a bit of time in the art room, also not doing much with the kids but brainstorming possible projects we could do with them. Then came the true insanity - helping out in the nursery. They are almost finished constructing the room that will be their kindergarten, so until then the littlest children are stuck in one small room with almost nothing to do. I didn't really blame them for their rambunctious behavior, but most of it included them trying to escape the room, and unfortunately they usually succeeded. There was a door and a window accessible to them, neither of which locked, and they skillfully planned their jailbreaks to confuse the short-staffed room. There simply weren't enough people to guard the door and the window and go after the escapees all at once. I should mention that during all of this the kids would spontaneously beat up on each other at random, requiring some adult intervention to make them stop. Eventually we gave up keeping them in the room and took them out to the courtyard area, where each of us would be in charge of keeping our eyes on a few of the children. As soon as we got out there, I noticed that one boy had run out to a soccer field and through a door that turned out to lead out of the building entirely. I chased him down and carried him back, but of course he didn't give up that easily. He came back to try another escape multiple times, finally biting me in the leg (and, I noticed later, drawing blood through my pants) in his frustration. I was helped by another staff member, one of the many Brazilians working there, who took the child away for a stern talking to. Let me explain the Brazilian involvement - Ana AL-Misri's program is the first of its kind in Egypt, and therefore the organizers of the NGO were uncertain how to run a successful center for street children. However, they were able to contact an organization in Brazil with a similar mission, so these Brazilians all worked at this sister center and are here to develop the Egyptian model further. However, they are as of now unsure of exactly how to structure everything to fit into Egyptian culture, most noticeably when it comes to discipline. Once I understood that the organization lacked a specific disciplinary procedure, everything made much more sense, and I didn't feel so bad about not having real (or any) control over the kids. Hopefully I'll adjust as the organization itself grows and becomes more developed, and hopefully (or as they say in Egypt, "in sha Allah," by the grace of God) in the future not all of the blood, sweat, and tears from any given day will be mine (although there were no tears from me today, just from some of the kids; and sadly sweat is kind of unavoidable in the Egyptian heat).

Later in the afternoon, we had our registration session for our English class, which starts tomorrow. We had ten students come in today, who we successfully interviewed. It turns out that the Iraqi students won't be coming to our center after all, but I'm sure it will still be a very interesting and thought provoking experience. After registration, one of the other girls in our group, my teaching partner, and I met two other teachers at St. Andrews. These two women teach French, and were ecstatic to hear that we were from America, and immediately asked if we could meet and practice our English. Our community facilitator Jamal, who is always quick to recommend my Arabic abilities, said that we would meet with them only if we can practice our Arabic as well. I'm looking forward to setting up that meeting and getting to know some other people in Cairo.

On our way home, I stopped to get a sandwich, and the cook preparing my food asked me where I was from. When I said the US, he got very excited and started praising Obama, then looked at me very seriously and asked, "Bush or Obama?" When I told him I voted for Obama, he immediately perked up again and continued to talk about Obama and his quest for peace. Other students in my program have had similar experiences. One girl told some Egyptians she was working with that she was from Texas, and they immediately got suspicious and said, "You're from Bush country?!" They conferred quietly among themselves while she sat dumbfounded, until they turned back to her and one said, "Don't worry. You're with friends." I knew that Egyptians (as well as many Africans) love our president, but I didn't realize that these concerns about Bush would continue so far past the 2008 election!

Always Smile At a Man With a Gun

Today was slightly more relaxing than the past few have been, but I still had an Arabic lesson in the morning and attended a lecture at night. During the discussion part of our class, we got onto the topics of political correctness and swine flu. It was nearly impossible to describe political correctness in Arabic - it is so foreign to all other cultures and my Arabic vocabulary did not include words like "offend," so I'm not sure our teacher understood. Even Google Translate couldn't save us on this one, although our teacher tried looking up the term. Then we somehow got on the topic of swine flu. For those of you who don't know, following the swine flu epidemic of last winter, the Egyptian government chose to slaughter all of the pigs in Cairo in order to prevent spread of the disease. However, it is not possible to contract swine flu from pigs; the human disease is merely a mutation of a disease that used to affect pigs. Our teacher, who is neither uneducated nor unintelligent, did not actually believe us when we told her that you couldn't get swine flu from eating pork. Then we started (or attempted) a long biological explanation, which was less than successful.

Later in the afternoon, we drove an hour out of the city to the American University of Cairo for a lecture by Prof. Abdullah Schleifer, formerly a conflict reporter for various print and television media. He was self-admittedly a little crazy, but his lecture about the challenges of reporting on catastrophes was very interesting. He gave many anecdotes about shady meetings in Beirut, barely escaping death, and his many other life experiences. Even more intriguing were his allusions to an earlier stage of his life, when he may have been (if I read between the lines correctly) in the Cuban military fighting for the Communists. He told us that he only had one rule which had kept him alive all these years: "always smile at a man with a gun." Prof. Shleifer was by far one of the craziest individuals I've ever met, and his lecture certainly inspired me to pursue more adventures in my life.

Two Sides of a City

Over the last 24 hours, I've witnessed the two extreme living situations that exist in Cairo - the very wealthy and the very poor. The dichotomy is striking and actually a little scary. Don't get me wrong - I love Cairo for all its frustrations. Although sometimes the heat, the dust, the crowdedness, and the nonstop honking of the cars can get to me, I love this city: the friendliness of its people, its weirdly twisting and broken sidewalks, the breeze as you walk the bridge across the Nile, and the way the call to prayer echoes tinnily through the streets everyday. Regardless, I can't help but acknowledge the huge disparity in the circumstances of Cairo's people.

Last night, I went with the rest of the group to the Four Seasons Hotel located right on the Nile to watch the Uruguay-France soccer game. This place was incredible - we watched the game outside on a deck overlooking their pool (I think we were about 6 stories up) on two of at least 10 TVs lined up in the same area. We watched the game and ate their delicious food and drank fancy drinks on plush sofas. The whole experience was amazing in its luxury (although the game could have been better... it ended up a 0-0 draw).

Today was packed - 4 hours of class in the morning (actually discussing poverty and extravagance in Cairo, fittingly enough for the purposes of this post), then we left almost immediately for Ana Al-Misri (an NGO that I volunteer at). This was our first day of work there, where we will be playing with and interacting with children who used to live on the streets of Cairo. The place was about to explode with enthusiasm for our presence. As soon as I walked into the introduction/reception room where the kids were waiting, one bold girl named Khalud came up, took my hand, and led me to a seat next to her. As we walked to the arts and crafts room 20 minutes later, not only did Khalud have me by the hand, but so did another girl and a third was clutching my waist and steering me through the halls from behind. Though we were only at Ana Al-Misri for a few hours, we certainly felt as much love as we could take from these kids and left both exhausted and exhilarated. Afterward however, we started to realize the sadness of the situations that many of these children had come from as we shared stories from the day. We all received notes from the staff about children we shouldn't touch or carry because they had had negative experiences in the past with abuse, and we saw some children (new to the center) who grabbed 10 pieces of cake to hoard, because they were so used to the concept of meals being few and far between. The experience was certainly fun and exciting, but also very thought provoking, especially when compared to the lavish way I'd spent my evening yesterday. At this point, I certainly haven't come to any conclusions or insights about the intense class stratification in Cairo, and such probably won't come until later in the trip (or at least until I have caught up on sleep some).

The night ended with a few of us watching the US-England soccer game in a koosheri restaurant near our apartment, which was fun if a little awkward - the workers in the restaurant thought our cheering was hysterical and actually recorded us watching the game at one point. Most Egyptians root against America, but there is one country that all Egyptians are united against in terms of soccer - Algeria, so it will be very interesting to see who they support when the US plays Algeria in a few weeks!

All That Beef - Wrapped in Culture

Sorry about yesterday's lack of post! I had a bit of a late night, and I was just not up to the task. But as today will be spent lounging around the apartment doing laundry and homework (just like a Sunday back at school), I have plenty of time to fill you all in.

Yesterday morning we returned to St. Andrew's to observe some classes and work more on our lesson plans. The class I went to was absolutely adorable - they were studying parts of speech and doing an activity to sort words into their different categories. They argued animatedly over where each word went, and each possessed an enthusiasm for learning not found in the typical classroom. At one point, one student turned to me and said, "Excuse me what does SOOR (sour) mean?" I attempted to explain by talking about lemons and making a face. By the end of the class, all three of us observing were caught between a glowing kind of happiness and the urge to cry - these precious, excited kids don't have an easy road to travel, and many waste away their lives in Cairo dreaming of a resettlement that will never come. Realizing the state of these kids' lives hammered in the gravity of our task over the next 7 weeks and didn't really help with my anxiety over starting classes. However, a pep talk from Fiona, the director of our program at St. Andrew's, did much to calm my nerves - she told us that even if they don't learn a lick of English or Arabic, what we are bringing to them is a safe space where they can feel at home and form a community, which could radically change their lives in Cairo for the better. Though this task is just as huge, this emphasis certainly takes the pressure off my ability to write lesson plans.

After St. Andrew's, we stopped to grab lunch, and while looking at the menu an old woman in the street started talking to me in Arabic, patting my back, and gesturing to the sky. She was talking too fast for me to understand, and I immediately started panicking that I was doing something wrong - was my shirt too tight? Should I not be walking around with other guys from the program? Was she unhappy that my hair was uncovered? However, it turns out she was merely praying for me to find a good husband.

Later that night, I went out with two other girls from my program to grab dinner, and then meet an Egyptian friend of ours. We went to eat at McDonald's, which is pretty classy in comparison to Mickey D's back home. Their signature dish is the McArabia - 2 hamburger patties in a pita with some kind of yogurt sauce, lettuce, and tomato - which bears the slogan "all that beef wrapped in culture." It's alright (although some people on my program rave about it), but honestly I'd much rather stick to Egyptian street food - far more authentic and far cheaper. As we walked around waiting for our friend, we got an uncommon amount of stares. It is typical for men to call out to women here, but this amount of ogling and muttered discussion was out of the norm. We eventually realized that their interest was sparked from the diversity of our little group: one Arab girl who might or might not have been Egyptian (she's not, but most people couldn't tell), one black Muslim wearing a hijab, and me - obviously very white and western. The people we passed were all trying to figure us out: "How did they find each other? Is she Egyptian? But that one's definitely a foreigner..." etc. When we finally met our friend, we drove up to the Moatam, a mountain that overlooks the whole city. The view was spectacular, though unfortunately we couldn't make out the pyramids through the pollution. We spent the night chatting and laughing around a little plastic table in the breeze. We made it home as the sun was rising, and I slept all morning before waking up to work on my homework. Tonight, we're getting together as a group to watch some of the World Cup.. if only I can get my work done before then!

Getting on the Right Track... Then Getting Lost Again

Day 2 of Arabic class was another success! My class (there were only four of us today, as one student was sick) managed to have a (rather stilted) discussion with our teacher about poverty and globalization... all in Arabic! I think this was my most advanced dialogue in Arabic to date, which makes me even more excited to continue studying at Arab Academy. Although the discussion was far from perfect - we worriedly explained to our teacher that we didn't have the vocabulary to describe the nuances of our arguments, so we might make some obnoxious generalizations. She laughed us off and said that wasn't really the point of the exercise, and in retrospect it may just have been our desperate American desire to speak in politically correct terminology. The only not-so-wonderful part of the class was getting assigned a lot of homework, but since we don't have class again until Saturday it shouldn't be that bad.

The work continued full steam at St. Andrew's, where we went to meet with our community facilitators, all refugees themselves who have successfully integrated into Cairo society, and work with them on our lesson plans. Though there was some confusion at the beginning of the session between our team and our facilitator, an Eritrean named Jamal, we had made a lot of progress by the end of the class. Jamal is very soft spoken, but very knowledgeable about the population with which we will be working. He told us that most of the Eritreans and Ethiopians will probably have a high school level of English and little Arabic, but want to improve their conversational skills and most importantly their confidence with English. The only concern I have at this point is that the few Iraqis in the class will be at a dramatically different level, making our lesson planning very complicated.

So while both school and work started moving in the right direction, our excursion to a coffee shop called Cilantro, located in Zamalak, took a definite wrong direction. Though we got kind of lost and ended up having to take cabs (good thing I've been practicing taxi-cab-dialogue!), the walk across the Nile and then the bridge over Zamalak is gorgeous, and very cool and breezy at night. We ended up staying at Cilantro until about midnight, chatting and laughing over our super fancy and mildly expensive coffee drinks. (In reality, I think they cost about as much as they would have at home, if not less, but it just feels odd putting down 35 Egyptian pounds for a fancy cup of hot chocolate - about $7.) Regardless, it was the perfect way to unwind after a long day of work. I guess you could say we all ended up back on track and ready to work again tomorrow.

Let's Get Down To Business

To defeat... my mediocre Arabic and refugee illiteracy? Not terribly catchy, but regardless, it was good to finally get the ball rolling on our various projects. Today was our first day of Arabic classes (and consequently our first night of homework) and a more substantial orientation at St. Andrew's, this time discussing the nuts and bolts of lesson planning. We were up and at the Arab Academy by 9 am, where we had a solid three and half hours of class. Normally it would have been four hours, but we had to leave early to make it to St. Andrew's on time. The thought of four straight hours of class makes my college student self want to cry; I'm used to lectures that last an hour and fifteen minutes at most and a lot of self-directed, self-time-managed studying outside of that (in other words, I can take as many study breaks as I want). However, this lesson flew by, and I'm really looking forward to going back tomorrow! We spent today only studying 'Amia (colloquial Arabic), and we'll return to Fus-ha for the rest of the summer. Most of the class was made up of discussion and practicing real-world scenarios, for example one student would be a taxi driver and the other would be a potential customer. We had to practice bargaining with the taxi driver, telling him where to stop, and asking if his meter was working (only half of the taxis in Cairo have meters; these are the white taxis. Black taxis never have meters and require bargaining before riding. However, white taxis often don't use the meter anyway). I was probably the meanest taxi driver of the bunch... I asked for an astronomical price that I doubt any taxi driver here would use. We were assigned just a bit of homework (practicing vocabulary and writing a paragraph), then we headed for St. Andrew's.

At St. Andrew's we had a brief lecture on AMERA (Africa and Middle East Refugee Assistance), mainly focusing on the structure of the organization and the services they can provide to our students. The two main components of AMERA, at least in regards to the unaccompanied minors that we will be teaching, are the legal aspect (helping them with paperwork and such) and psycho-social work. The director of the unaccompanied minors division, Chantel, will certainly be a useful contact, though even hearing her mention in passing what some of her cases have experienced was eye-opening. Then we discussed lesson planning strategies with two St. Andrew's teachers. Their presentation was very dynamic, beginning with a game where we had to throw stuffed animals around in a circle and shout out their Arabic and English names. I got hit in the head by a stuffed Barney doll at least twice (p.s. the word for "dinosaur" in Arabic is actually "dinosaur" ... at least that was an easy one!) After that session I feel much more comfortable with my ability to teach, though I'm worried my confidence will erode as soon as I get in front of the class and realize that my students are all at drastically different levels. The day ended with the groups splitting up into their teaching sites and going to visit the ones in the more remote parts of Cairo, but since I'm teaching at the downtown center, I was free to go home. As soon as we got back I took a much-needed nap before starting my homework. Though today was exhausting, I'm excited to finally be on a schedule and defeat some Huns (metaphorically speaking).

I Don't Know What You Want But I Have What You Need

I thought yesterday would be my last uber-tourist day for a while... not so - we're still in the orientation phase of the trip, so we still have lots of time to kill and not too much class to attend. This morning we went to St. Andrew's Refugee Ministry to discuss our main project, teaching English to refugees from Sudan, Somalia, and Eritrea. The director of the project, Fiona, emphasized that this is less about reading and writing in English and more about life skills. For many of these unaccompanied minors, this phase of their lives is technically temporary, that is, they intend to move and resettle in another country. However, this dream is highly improbable for most of the refugees, so we need to help them improve the quality of the lives they have here in Cairo. I'll be working at the downtown center, conveniently the closest to our apartment in Garden City. The majority of my students will be Eritrean and Ethiopian, with four Iraqi students. I'm interested to learn about the differences in the living situations between all these groups and to get to know the students.

After that brief meeting, we were free for the rest of the day and reverted to our touristy ways. I went with three friends to Khan El-Khalili, an old market in Cairo. We met a very sweet and very slick salesman named Ahmed as we first began looking around. He gave us a tour of the not-quite-as-touristy part of the market and showed us his family's shop making papyrus scrolls. Although all four of us realized his salesman's tricks immediately, he was a wonderful guide and he gave us tea, and we each ended up buying a beautiful papyrus scroll (mine is of an ankh, the ancient Egyptian key of life)... of course at a "reduced student price." In actuality, we noticed when we went to the main market that our purchases were of much higher quality then those in the stands. As we walked down, we were hailed with many yells and requests to view their goods, including one shop keeper who said, "Welcome back! You were here yesterday correct? From Canada?" The best line by far was, "I don't know what you want, but I have what you need!" I think they might be song lyrics... or something out of a book of pick up lines. Regardless, we had a great time browsing the stalls, filled with everything from hookahs to backgammon sets to spices to t-shirts to belly-dancing costumes. I ended up buying myself a tunic (I desperately need more conservative clothing to wear here!) and made a somewhat successful attempt at haggling. We also went into the Al-Azhar Mosque, located next to the Khan, which is gorgeous, although we were all a little hesitant to walk around and be too nosy while people were studying. Before returning to our apartment, we met up with the rest of our group and took a boat ride on the Nile. It was fun, if a little bit odd.. the boat driver kept insisting that we dance with him, while we just wanted to sit down! All in all a touristy a day, but tomorrow we start Arabic classes. Ma salama.

The Real Way To Make Nescafe

This morning started off exactly like yesterday - with an Arabic exam (did I mention that the placement test was two parts? Yea, ouch... another morning of being reminded how far from fluency I am). Yet again though, we enjoyed our time after this exam by chatting with the staff at the Arab Academy, all of us bemoaning how terrible at cooking we are. During this conversation, my friend and I were trying to make Nescafe, a type of instant coffee which is very popular in the states. Making Nescafe is generally not that difficult, the issue we were really facing was not being able to find spoons and not being able to determine the instant Nescafe from real coffee (they were in unmarked silver canisters). One of the Arab Academy staff, noticing our struggle, came over, poured out half of the cup I had been working on, whipped out a portable frother, and somehow created a bona fide latte out of Nescafe and powdered milk. The Starbucks baristas would have been shamed. After much oohing and aahing, he had made one for each of us, and we immediately asked him where we could buy such a frother in Egypt. He then presented it to us and said "hadaya," gift.

Since the day was so hot, my wanderings around Cairo were limited, but I did go back for more koosheri for dinner and tried some orange and sugar cane juice from the stand down the block (completely delicious). In the evening, we had a lecture at the house of a professor at AUC about the politics of the Nile. The discussion was interesting, even if his argument seemed a tad optimistic. Basically of the countries that border the Nile, Egypt and Sudan have nearly exclusive rights to use the water, yet the other countries (particularly Ethiopia) want greater claim to use the water. He argued that war over water was not feasible (it's not like they're going to attack a dam), and thus the nations would be forced to compromise. He outlined a compromise which he thought probable and highlighted all the bonuses from it. Having little background knowledge of the subject, I couldn't tell you if there were any flaws in his argument, but to me it seemed like he skated over the possibility of war a bit too easily. Anyway, this was the first in a series of lectures we'll be attending about various issues in the Middle East, and it was certainly thought-provoking.

Tomorrow we have orientation at St. Andrews, an NGO that works with refugees in Cairo... it's about time to really get started with our work here!

Stairways to Nowhere and Armed Crossing Guards

Today started out a bit drearily - with a placement exam at our Arabic language center, the Arab Academy. Although the staff there were wonderful and happy to see us, even through the painful interview portion, the test was not the ideal way to kick off the morning. For example, one of the options for the essay was: "Poor countries argue that it is the duty of rich countries to protect the environment. Discuss." Honestly, I'm not sure how I would respond to that even in English... but that is really the point of a placement exam, to challenge you and determine exactly what you know and don't (emphasis on the don't, it seemed like from today!). After the exam however, we drank tea and ate cookies and chatted with the staff at the Arab Academy, and I'm really excited for classes to start there. I should probably make a quick note on the difference between formal Arabic, called Fus-ha, which I study at Duke and will be studying at the Arab Academy, and the street Arabic known as 'Amia. Fus-ha is the language used in the media and in any written Arabic and would be similar to Shakespearean English (i.e. people think you sound ridiculous when you speak it outside the classroom). 'Amia is distinct to various regions of the Arab world, for example the Cairo dialect is slightly different than the dialect spoken in the rest of Egypt which is very different from other countries' dialects. So while I'm still working on the formal Fus-ha in class, I'm also trying to pick up Egyptian 'Amia to speak with shopkeepers, people on the street... really anyone who will talk to me.

Alright enough about language, and back to the rest of the day... after a brief orientation about life in Cairo, we headed out to explore. I had something called "koosheri" for lunch, which is a delicious combination of rice, noodles, spaghetti, lentils, chickpeas, and fried onions with a tomato sauce (sounds weird, I know, but it's unbelievable). There is the option of adding a spicy sauce. I'm not really sure what it was made of, but I put a few drops into my bowl and my mouth was on FIRE. After lunch, a few of us walked from our apartment to Zamalak (the island on the Nile). We intended to go to the Cairo Tower, but we somehow managed to walk all the way around it without ever finding a way to get in and up to the top... I guess we'll have to take on that adventure another day. Regardless, the walk was amazing. The view from the Nile is gorgeous, and we had fun interacting with the people walking around - most of whom shouted "Welcome to Egypt!" as we passed. Two big things from our trip: walking down pointless stairways and trying to cross the street. Multiple times we attempted to walk down a stairway that seemed to end at the bottom of an exit ramp off the bridge to Zamalak, but actually dead-ended into a concrete wall... oops. Then there was street crossing: think Frogger, except the cars don't always stay in their lanes and drive at a consistent speed. It is also impossible to find a gap when no cars are coming in any of the lanes. Luckily, there were plenty of police officers sitting in the area who helpfully led us across. Though they are all more than happy to lend a hand and their expertise at navigating Cairo's streets, they are extremely intimidating since they are so obviously armed (probably because they are stationed near so many embassies). Later that night, I went out to a tiny backgammon room/tea shop/hookah bar type place, where we sat with some Egyptian men who critiqued our backgammon skills. All in all it was an excellent day, but I really need to get some rest now... ma salama!

Wust El-Balad

Hey everyone, just back at the apartment from a much more restful day in Egypt. There was only one official DukeEngage activity of the day: finding St. Andrews Refugee Ministry (where we'll be working most of the time we're here). After that quick walk and a tour of the center (we'll be returning for orientation in a few days), we headed back to the apartment to finally catch up on sleep.

In the evening, we headed out for the first time without our phenomenal guide Zoe, an American from our university who has lived in Cairo for the past two years. I have to admit, I was a bit nervous for this - my formal Arabic is a bit rusty and my knowledge of the Egyptian dialect is almost nonexistent. However, the night was both fantastic and successful. I grabbed dinner at the ful restaurant down the street, which was absolutely delicious and more than I could eat, and then went to an Egyptian pop concert in Zamalik, the island in the middle of the Nile. The band was called "Wust El-Balad" and they were great! (even though I didn't understand much of their lyrics). Then came our attempt to get a cab home. We (amazingly) managed to hail one and negotiated a price to Garden City; the problem was giving directions to our cab driver. Fortunately, he and every other person on the street were helpful and more than happy to give us directions as we sat in the backseat and repeated "Sifara Canada" (Canadian Embassy, which we live near) and "Shar'ia Ibrahim Naguib" (Ibrahim Naguib Street) until we finally recognized our apartment building. Even if I make them laugh with my overly formal and antiquated attempts to speak, which will hopefully improve before long, everyone in Egypt is kind and amazingly patient enough to figure out what help we need.

Check out Wust El-Balad here!

Italian Food in Cairo?

I'm not proud of the fact that I didn't really eat any ethnically Egyptian food today. To be fair, I fully intended to get ful (pronounced "fool"), a very common dish made of fava beans for dinner at the restaurant around the corner, but by the time I got back to our apartment after a long day out, I could not make myself leave. So we resorted to Pizza Hut, one of the unlimited number of delivery options here in Cairo - and when I say unlimited, I mean every single place delivers to wherever at whatever time. The number of McDelivery bikes I've seen is ridiculous.

But before I dive too deeply into a description of the Cairo dining options, I'll give a quick rundown of the day. We went to orientations at three different NGOs, of which we will select one to work at. The options are "Ana al-Misri" (meaning I, the Egyptian) which works with children formerly living on the streets, "Al-Kayan" working with disabled children, and Awtad which has a variety of empowerment projects in the city. My favorite and first choice to volunteer at is Ana al-Misri; although it's the farthest away (a 45 minute taxi ride), it is the most hands-on and high-energy atmosphere of the three, and the kids are absolutely adorable. In between our orientation marathon, we stopped to get lunch at an Italian restaurant, chosen for it's convenient location. The inside looked nothing like Egypt, and there was far more English and Italian on the menu and wall decorations than Arabic. Afterward, we hit up the other two NGOs, then collapsed back at our apartment and settled down to Pizza Hut, which is even better than American Pizza Hut (apparently because health standards are less strict here, so they can make it a lot worse for you).

Day 1

I'm finally here! After 5 hours of waiting at JFK to meet up with the other students from my program, an 11 hour flight to Egypt (complete with the latest Twilight film with Arabic subtitles), and an extremely traffic-packed drive through downtown Cairo, I am all settled in my apartment in Garden City, just east of the Nile. The apartment itself is incredible - it has 5 bedrooms, which are each the same size as my dorm room from last semester, a huge living room, and a dining room with a built-in china cabinet, in addition to the bathrooms and kitchen. We did a little bit of walking around in Garden City, stopping to buy adapters and bottled water and snacks, but now we're finally relaxing before dinner.

The craziest lesson I learned today was about traffic and parking in Cairo. Of course, I know that not all drivers behave the same way as those in America do, so I was expecting increased amounts of swerving and honking and yelling, but I still couldn't believe the mildly senseless way that traffic laws work. For example, on our drive to the apartment, our police escort (which we picked up at the airport for some reason - they insisted they accompany us) directed some drivers to back up so we could drive the wrong way down a one-way street. Later, our professor told us from the front of the bus, "When you park your car, you should just put it in neutral, in case someone needs to move it out of the way." This happened, in fact, when we couldn't get down a narrow street where cars were double parked, and some friendly pedestrians pushed one of the cars aside to make room for us. I should probably also mention that I watched all this from a bus bedecked with an oriental rug down the aisle.