Final Reflection

What a trip! It’s hard to believe that seven weeks could pass so quickly. In hindsight, I can’t believe how much of Egypt I saw and I don’t think enough time has passed for me to fully grasp the changes the program instilled in me. To start, I dove into this trip without knowing what to expect; I had only traveled once prior to now, and that was for 10 days. I feel I was well prepped for adjusting to culture shock, both from the pre-departure orientation sessions and talking with my sister, who has been to Africa several times. What I did not expect was how quickly I assimilated to Egyptian lifestyle. I anticipated a much more conservative society and a much less accepting community; both of these notions were immediately driven from my head upon landing in Cairo. Before jet lag had time to sink in, we were off touring Cairo. Trying to soak up as much information as possible as the sun beat down over our heads, the amount of sightseeing accomplished within our first full two days sent me into a sort of shock. The quick pace slowed down for a day or so, whereupon I was introduced to the warmth and hospitality of Abduh and Hayyam. The delicious turkey dinner served as my first real meal in a few days and, more importantly, as an introduction to the kindness I would soon be shown by most of the Egyptians I would meet.

The first week was probably the most difficult. I came to the airport April 30^th knowing virtually no one. Clustered together in a group of almost 40 was quite frustrating at times; for a good 10 days we were being loaded on and off buses and guided around like a herd of sheep. Even individual time was spent in larger groups of 8 or 10 rather than 3 or 4 students. The balance between trying to meet other students and paying attention to the tours was tricky; often running on 5 or 6 hours of sleep, days were long and hot. Additionally, being a tourist was not the most pleasant experience. In Aswan and Luxor, I felt as though I could not walk down the street without being gawked at or verbally harassed. Though sometimes people may have been trying to be friendly, my mood often turned from agreeable to frustrated within a block down the street from the hotel. Unsure of how to deal with men whistling or catcalling every hundred feet, and not wanting to offend anyone, I remained stoic and silent, simply glaring or politely ignoring these taunts. Aside from this aspect of our travels in Upper Egypt, I found myself in constant awe at the sight of the many temples we visited. I mused at the thought of how, without the aid of any modern technology, these colossal architectures could have been built so structurally sound as to last thousands of years. The amount of history these places hold, though I had read and learned about it in elementary school, is simply phenomenal.

Returning to Cairo, I found myself antsy the night before classes started, much like how I feel the night before my first day of school. What would class be like? What would my professor be like? Would I be able to handle the workload? Questions raced through my mind as I fell asleep in my room in the Flamenco, a place that would become home for the next four weeks. I anticipated that four hours would drag by unbearably, but I found myself fully immersed in the class work, absorbing as much information as I could. The class size was perfect; with only seven students, each of us received enough attention when needed. After four weeks of classes with Peter, I was satisfied with the material we had covered. His teaching style was different than what I was accustomed to, especially for learning a language. We waited almost a week before starting the alphabet, and even then we learned it letter by letter. As frustrating as this was at first, this approach ended up working quite well for me. Although I felt like we were learning at a slow pace, I enjoyed being back in Cairo because it allowed me to feel more comfortable going out to restaurants and simply walking around Zamalek as I had some basic understanding of the Arabic language.

After only two days of classes, I initially anticipated working with the glass-blowing group on the service learning project. However, I was offered an opportunity to read to and teach English to a small group of students at a school in a poor community in Cairo. Five other students participated in this program, but we did not work as a team; we were separated and each given a group of 3 or 4 students to work with. I was surprised at the cleanliness of the school we taught at and the materials available to them; they had a computer room and appeared to have a very solid artistically based program. Working with the students, whose ages ranged from eight to eleven, was quite a trying experience. Young children are difficult enough to try to maintain, but working with a language barrier made this challenge one hundred times more difficult. Although by the second time I worked with the students, I had slightly more Arabic knowledge, my comprehension was very slow and the kids talked very quickly. I managed, however, to get by relatively successfully, spending a few hours teaching the kids the colors and some basic nouns. I found the other students who were part of this service learning program very helpful; some of us bounced ideas off of each other as to how best to teach the kids. I would suggest, however, that if this program is continued to be offered as an option, ensure the students involved have sufficient background in the language. Although, as I said, everything worked out well, I think the kids would best benefit from students who had a stronger grasp of the Arabic language.

My general impressions of Cairo were very positive. One of the most attention grabbing aspects of Cairo life was the driving. Driving in Egypt has best been described to me as a video game: you make the rules, each road is a different level, and you just weave in and out of traffic, and use traffic signs and lights at your discretion. I was initially taken aback by the general noise level in Cairo. As a pedestrian, the driving itself didn’t really bother me, as it reminded me of the pedestrian lifestyle I have grown accustomed to in Boston. Having been in Cairo for several weeks, I found it incredible the amount of concentration the drivers have. Literally accosted from all sides, the only traffic rules are to avoid getting hit or hitting anyone or anything. Yet the drivers here are some of the best I have ever seen.

After 4 weeks of classes and service learning projects, the outings to both Marsah Matrooh and to Siwa were well timed. Although the week spent in these places was more relaxing than anything, I enjoyed that we had the opportunity to see the diversity of land and lifestyle that exists within one country. Rather than just reading about or hearing about the differences across various regions of Egypt, we were able to more fully appreciate these variances by interacting with the people of these regions. Aside from this, traveling outside of Cairo offered a more peaceful place to reflect before going home. The hustle and bustle can be a great distraction and this interlude into a much less polluted and significantly less crowded area provided a nice, relaxing few days to let the rest of the trip really sink in.

The most enlightening part of the trip was dialoguing with Egyptian students. Nervous as to what we would talk about or how the conversations would go, my group discussed an array of issues including American politics and gender/cultural stereotyping. Egyptians are “fast friends;” many of them were very hospitable and offered to drive myself and several friends around different parts of Cairo, offering a more in depth look at the life and culture. These friends provided a social network to the city, an outlet I was very thankful for because I was able to comfortably explore more of the city. Our conversations during the two set meetings and all the discussions we had outside of these meetings were, for me, one of the most important aspects of the trip. My generation has a lot of problems to deal with in the near future. As future leaders, I truly believe that making international connections with students our age at this point in time is one of the greatest benefits we have available to us. This type of networking connects the youth of my generation on a personal level, allowing for relationships to develop between nations, perhaps helping better understand the problems of our generation.

In regards to dialogues, the Abu Dhabi portion of the trip was simply phenomenal. Although the lifestyle at the Intercontinental is far too glamorous for me, I was pleasantly surprised with the outcome. Initially concerned at the lack of information provided to us regarding what we were going to be doing in Abu Dhabi, I eventually adopted the Egyptian “ma’alesh” attitude, simply hoping for the best. I felt somewhat stressed, anticipating not meeting the high expectations set by the leaders of the conference. We had only one day to prepare for a presentation; certain information was unavailable to us and I was very unclear as to the goals of and ultimate expectations set by the leaders of the conference, although I feel my group fared rather well in the end. I realized early on that I had to put the stress aside because all of us, Americans and Arabs alike, were in the same boat and had been provided with the same information. I learned to simply focus on the task at hand and interpret it as best as possible. Again, the networking opportunity provided on this leg of the journey was incredible. Meeting students from the Middle East and the Arab world put my views into perspective; meeting these students makes the areas they come from more than just places on a map because many of them shared personal stories about the culture and lifestyles of their homes.

Overall I was very pleased with the way the program was run. Perhaps seven and a half weeks is a little long; the last week or so dragged on and people’s moods deteriorated significantly. I realize that the program runs on a limited budget, but if next year there were more cultural outings offered, like the Whirling Dervishes, I think these would greatly enhance the trip. The tour guides were all extremely informative and knowledgeable. Although some days were a little too full with tours, I think it is important to include visits to Islamic and Coptic Cairo; these tours provided me with important historical and cultural information that helped me better grasp the current status of the Egyptian lifestyle. On a more technical note, communication between the program directors and the students was probably the weakest part of the trip; however, I understand the difficulties faced in trying to get a hold of thirty-five students in order to deliver messages about last minute changes. Despite a few miscommunications, I feel things ran pretty smoothly. I am genuinely thankful I had the opportunity to participate in this program. I anticipated an amazing trip, but as I mentioned before, some of the effects this trip has had on me remain dormant as I have only had a few days to truly reflect on my experiences.

Wrapping Up

Upon returning to Cairo, we spent a little less than 24 hours before being whisked away via EgyptAir to Abu Dhabi. Talk about culture shock. The change from dry heat to barely breathable humidity, from dirty, dusty concrete buildings to shiny and clean metal skyscrapers, from crowded streets to empty highways, from the Flamenco Hotel to the Intercontinental. Treated luxuriously, I was profusely thankful for Her Highness Sheikha Fatima Bint Mubarak's generosity in providing us with such wonderful accommodations. After the initial shock of the luxurious treatment we were to receive for the next five days wore off, I began contemplating what we were doing here. Details, as per usual, were vague leaving me to wonder what to expect.
The next 3 days ended up being the most mentally rigorous on the trip thus far. Under the vague cover of women's issues, I chose to join the "education" group. Somewhat distracted by the incessant photographing and videotaping, our group was left somewhat in the dark, trying to address THE most important sub-topics under the umbrella of "Education." After a few hours, a couple observations came into focus, not only in regards to women in education. Concurrently looking up governmental policies on education in both America and the Middle East, my mind wandered to my group's earlier discussion. I almost laughed as I realized how similar we were in our working habits. On the coffee breaks, I talked with some of my American friends and my observations became even clearer. Regardless of what country we were from, all of us felt stressed, which led to frequent tangents in conversations. The apathy I see in so many college students (myself not necessarily excluded) pervaded borders as the excitement to work on this project slowly dwindled. On another note, we were able to diffuse respective assumptions about each other's cultures, or at least try to. Not only was this an opportunity to learn about the programs and policies regarding women in the Arab world, I learned a significant amount about women in my own country, information talked about but which I had not been able to fully comprehend. More importantly, I believe, I was able to see firsthand that despite major cultural and religious differences, students my age are very similar in many ways.
This dialoguing is one of the most important aspects of the trip. My generation has a lot of problems to deal with in the near future. I truly believe that making international connections at this point in time with students our age is one of the greatest benefits we will have in the future. This type of networking connects the youth of my generation on a personal level, allowing for relationships to develop between nations, perhaps helping better understand the problems of our generation.
*****
After the final presentations were given and reports handed in, I was caught up in a whirlwind of traveling and personal reflection. The last 48 hours of the trip were both the most confusing but the most reflective days; with flights at 3 or 5:30 in the morning and a severe lack of sleep, the fact that the trip was over began to sink in. Although I have physically returned home, my mind remains in a constant flux of reflection, replaying memories and readjusting perspectives.

Back to the Beginning

A foreign sound broke out over the hubbub of Cairo; a loud, low boom echoed above the city. I paused before quickly assuming it must have been some sort of explosion. A few minutes later, after depositing my key to the front desk at the Flamenco, I stepped outside with some friends into the most bizarre scene: rain. It was the first time in 5 and half weeks that I had seen precipitation. Not only did the rain strike me as odd, but my reaction made me think. It was our last night in Cairo and rather than the typical intense, dry heat, rain fell, creating a more humid climate. Perhaps this change in weather was a precursor to the change in the program that is about to occur. Or perhaps it was just a fluke. Either way, I found myself thinking tonight about how accustomed I have become to not only the weather but the general attitude and way of life here.

The past four weeks have been amazing. I have gotten to meet so many people and see so many different parts of the city. Observing everyday behavior became less and less common as I slowly sank into a routine. Gradually I became less aware of the fact that most women are nearly fully covered, even in 100+ degree heat. I perked up my ears at the sound of the Arabic language being spoken, in hopes of overhearing a few words. Signs on restaurants and billboards became less enigmatic as I learned more and more of the Arabic script. As our time in the classroom finished up, I really began to feel a sense of belonging.

******

After our last full weekend in Cairo, spent rather lazily—staying out late with Egyptian friends, smoking shisha, sleeping in and sauntering around town—we left bright and early for Marsah Matrooh, a little piece of Heaven on earth!. This week has by far been the most relaxing and pensive time for me thus far. Sadly, the engineers did not accompany us on this leg of the journey, however, I feel as though it has allowed this smaller group to bond a little more. Though we encountered slight technical difficulties on the way from Cairo (a gas leak) we bid our time at a World War II Museum in Al Alamayn. Again, the concept of simply rolling with the punches, the “ma-alesh” attitude, crept into my mind. Here we were, at a predetermined destination, unsure of how long repairs to the bus would take. Such unforeseen events are no longer foreign to me and have significantly increased my patience. Finally reaching our destination, I spent the afternoon and the following morning relaxing on the beach. Falling asleep without air conditioning for the first time in weeks, I found myself in a very peaceful state of mind. Though tremors of homesickness shook me every now and again, the tranquility of the Mediterranean calmed my nerves.

The drive to Siwa was perhaps one of the most interesting events of the week. The smell of burning rubber caused our driver to pull over, at which time we discovered the fan belt had broken. The desert stretched on for miles all around us, the heat was causing us to see mirages in the distance and we had no means of transporting ourselves until help came for us. Twice in one week now, our bus malfunctioned, this time leaving us slightly worse off than before. Tired and anxious, I found most of us passed the time by exploring our surroundings and wandering within relatively close proximity of the bus. Vans were on their way, insh'allah. Sure enough, two hours later, we were brought to Siwa via "rescue vans." As we toured this tiny village, the heat in this part of Egypt was reminiscent of our first few days in Upper Egypt.

Returning to Marsah Matrooh, the feeling of living as a tourist sunk back in. After 5 weeks time, so much had changed and yet here we were, out of the city, out of our newly acquired element, spending time . I found myself, however, much less frustrated than I had been in the beginning of the trip. A certain calmness had been impressed upon me, beating any signs of frustration into submission. This cycle of tourist to student to tourist, however, is not yet khalas! In a day we fly to Abu Dhabi to begin our dialogue with Arab youth on women's issues, returning to how we entered the beginning of this trip--as students.

Insh'allah, bokra, wi ma'alesh

Virtually anywhere you go, you want to take pictures. It’s amazing how much you can fit into a 3 by 5 inch frame. No matter how hard I try, I could never fully capture the unique beauty of Cairo; the whole of Greater Cairo is comprised of 25 million people, with 2 million commuters entering the city daily. With a constantly fluctuating population, it’s amazing how the city functions. A well oiled machine, people carry out their business day by day. Living on a whim you learn to expect everything and anything, a lifestyle that prepares you to handle virtually anything without stopping to think. I've learned that the city seems to function on three basic principles: Insh'allah (God willing), bokra (tomorrow) and ma’alesh (no worries).

Insh'allah: Cairo is a predominantly Muslim community. Initially nervous to spend nearly two months in a country where religion plays such an enormous role in daily life, I have come to adopt a new attitude. From my own personal observations and discussions with Egyptian friends, I realized that religion extends far beyond observable religious behavior, but functions as a daily part of life for most individuals. Slightly weirded out by the call to prayer booming out over the loudspeakers 5 times a day and the seas of men and young boys standing and kneeling in prayer on the sidewalks and in the streets, I came to appreciate the sense of devoutness that envelopes Cairo. One of the most common phrases I have picked up here is "insh'allah" or "God-willing." Slipping this phrase into almost any conversation, Egyptians speak it with such sincerity and so commonly that I have begun to see its significance to Egyptian dialect Arabic.

Bokra: Growing up in America, I find myself in a country filled with a sense of instant gratification. We bring this attitude with us, somewhat unintentionally as it is ingrained in our minds as the way life should be. Throughout my time here in Cairo thus far, I have learned that life is structured in a more casual way; there have been numerous times throughout the trip when plans have changed last minute or questions about the program have been left unanswered. Though irksome, you learn to roll with the punches and not expect to know everything well beforehand. I will admit, the communication on this trip could be a little better between those in charge and those involved. However, I feel for the most part that timing and events have worked out, regardless of miscommunication or last minute plan changes. Though literally bokra means tomorrow, the term suggests putting things off until later or waiting until later to finalize plans. Although at first this notion appears lazy, I find the Egyptian lifestyle simply more laid back than I am accustomed to, causing me to rethink the necessity of knowing every detail of every event or outing days in advance. Plans change so often here that information given to you days in advance may change, leaving you misinformed. Why not just wait?

Ma'alesh: Unfortunately, I missed one day of service due to the unfortunate case of tonsillitis I developed, however, I was excited to return to the school to see my students! Brought to a classroom in a poor neighborhood in Cairo, several other students and I were told to teach English to small groups of 8 to 11 year olds. To our surprise, many already knew their alphabet and the numbers, leaving us slightly baffled. What, exactly, were we to do? Another challenge evolved as we realized that our level of Arabic was hardly sufficient to communicate to the students. Ma'alesh (Not to worry!), we would find a way to manage. With the basic language skills I had acquired, I found a method of getting through to my small group of students by drawing pictures of various objects and repeating the English word for each picture. Another lesson learned in Egypt--ma'alesh!

Homesick

I could feel it creeping up on me, my glands swelling ever so slowly. Over the course of one day, my throat closed significantly, causing swallowing to become a chore, eating was nearly impossible and when I talked I sounded like a Muppet. Though my natural reaction at home would have been to freak out, I ignored the symptoms, holding out as long as I could hoping that I was suffering from a cold. Looking at my tonsils, I could see them touching in the back of my throat and ended up at the AUC Clinic Sunday afternoon. Trying to keep my nerves calm, I almost choked up when I went into the doctor’s “office,” if you could call it that. After merely looking down my throat, the doctor asked how long had I been feeling this way and how often my tonsils swelled up. Concerned that he was misdiagnosing me because he hadn’t asked about or checked for other symptoms, Cynthia and Professor Sullivan escorted me to a pharmacy, where I was told one of my prescriptions didn’t exist on the Egyptian market. Once I had received the other prescription and did a little bit of my own research, I began the marked dosage and eventually the medicine kicked, returning my throat to its normal size.

The entire time I could hear my mom’s voice in the background telling me I was fine. Interestingly enough, the irrational fear that usually accompanies any of my physical ailments remained absent. Hundreds of miles from home, from a place that is comfortable and where I am surrounded by family and friends and decent medical facilities, I found myself more calm and composed than I had been in a long time. This was the first moment, however, that I truly began to miss being home. Much like the physical sickness, however, this homesickness passed over me rather quickly. The feeling lingered for a while, but not in a disruptive way. I lasted surprisingly longer than I had anticipated without missing home. The feeling of missing home was quickly washed away by my excitement at living in Egypt; missing home came in waves, creeping and building quickly cresting then crashing into the shores of my mind only to be dragged out and washed away into the hustle and bustle of my busy life in Cairo. Trying to keep in touch with my family, Dad responded with some words of wisdom: "don't worry about home...it'll be here when you get back." These words helped me to readjust and regain my focus on the tasks at hand.

Life in Zamalek

Since our return from Upper Egypt, I have gotten into a pretty steady flow. Daily routines have allowed my body to fully adjust to the Egyptian lifestyle. I spend four hours a day, four days a week in the Blue Room or the Harmon Room with Peter and my classmates learning Arabic. In the midst of studying for our first quiz, random shrieks and excited outcries, the harsh melody of constant car horns and the occasional voice of a Muslim sheik over loudspeakers, float up to the 11th floor of the Flamenco Hotel. Closing my eyes, I sometimes feel as though I could be back in Burstein Hall in Boston, relaxing after a long day of classes. Sitting by the window and even laying in the one bed in our standard double hotel room, the noise never dies down, providing both a level of distress and a level of comfort. This cacophony hangs about as a backdrop to the bustling city life, reminding me that I am never alone. Although this distraction is frustrating at times, my mind has begun to drown out the sounds and I refocus my attention on my studies.
We have barely been in class for a week and I already feel as though I have learned so much. Learning Arabic makes me reminiscent of days spent in Greek school, listening and repeating, soaking in as much as possible, hoping the teacher doesn’t call on me. Difficult pronunciations and different articulations, new letters spelling words from right to left, these things challenge my mind. The Arabic I have learned in class, though very basic, has provided me with a means of communicating with those around me. Feeling like slightly less of a minority, I find myself straining my ears, trying to pick out any words or pieces of conversations around me. Thus far, I have found myself realizing the significance of languages. Communication becomes limited, if possible at all, between myself and others. Ordering food at a restaurant or asking for directions is a challenge, for even though I am able to inquire, comprehension is still a challenge.
Once again, Abduh and Hayyam welcomed us to their home, treating us to another delectable Egyptian dinner. We also had our first official "Dialogue." I was surprised, but relieved, to find out that all of the students spoke English, some better than others. While their proficiency in English allowed us to hold a pretty in depth conversation about American politics, some language barriers persisted as we tried to explain certain idiomatic expressions. Again, the concept of language as our best means of communication surfaced as we proceeded to talk about religion, September 11th and stereotyping. During the allotted breaks and even during the conversations, I found the Egyptian students to be very welcoming and open minded. Upon leaving, we received many invitations to accompany our new found friends to the pyramids and/or to the Egyptian Museum. Who knows what the future has in store, for now...time for bed!

Getting out or Getting Through?

Sitting in the van, I push the curtain aside as we roll through Muquttam, a poorer neighborhood of Cairo. Women, men and children queue up in a crowded fashion, standing in some semblance of a line pushing and shoving, trying to get to the front. A woman and her son walk away, balancing a plate with several pieces of Syrian bread atop her head. Further down the rode, I see a group of 10 year old boys, some shoe-less, most wearing dirty and tattered clothing. As the dust rises up behind our van, I look back and see faces of all different ages staring at us as we pass through, speeding by. Some look puzzled, most look sternly without smiling.
This struggle occurs on a daily basis for millions of Egyptians. Difficult to watch, I find myself merely a passerby, honing in briefly then cruising out, back to the hotel and eventually, back to the US. Frustration builds inside me, as I wonder how I can possibly help to get these people out of this desolate situation. Merely driving through you are neglected the opportunity to fully observe. You are given a glimpse, a preview, upon which you make your judgments or assumptions about how life must be. Upon actually visiting places like Establ Antar, however, I have learned that the people in these communities manage to make it through each day. As much as they might want to escape this lifestyle, they manage to evade these dreams of an easier life and instead focus their efforts on getting through each day.
As a student studying abroad, I can't help but think of the things I will do once I am out of Egypt. When times are trying or people difficult, I remind myself that there is an end to my stay here, and regardless of the physical ailments or cultural misunderstandings that plague me, in a few weeks time I will be out. My time here has led me to realize that my absence does not cancel out what I have observed; the phrase "out of sight, out of mind" seems faulty. How can I erase the images of women sitting in the streets with their children, begging for money or young children wandering the streets alone, dirty and dressed raggedly. I have only been here two weeks and I find myself now wondering less about quick fixes, instant solutions and more about fully understanding the problem. It takes more than just a preview to understand a whole movie. More often than not, the previews are the most dramatic scenes loosely strung together so you get a gist of the type of movie. But previews are often misleading. I find myself thinking less of ways to remove these people from their situation and more about ways to trudge through, to change the system in a way that will benefit these people. The easy way is out, but most don't have that option.