Tonight I was a college student. Not a Duke student. Not an American. I was simply a kid who jumped on a rollercoaster not knowing where it would take me.
After class we made pizzas and smoked shisha (hookah) at the girls’ apartment. It was the first time in a long time that I felt truly pensive. It was rewarding beyond words to just sit and think. We talked about relationships, language, college, friends, our future, the state of pop culture, and why Egyptian pizzas lack tomato sauce (still a conundrum of magnanimous proportions). And if being in college is about staying up late, eating unhealthy foods, and avoiding work we definitely checked every box.
But that’s not why I felt like a college student tonight. Tonight was our time to freeze the frame and delve a little deeper. I have always believed that every now and then, often in the most serendipitous fashion, it is essential to stop moving and evaluate. Not just think about the day, the food we ate, the things we did, the things we said, the things we regretted, but to track our change and ponder the next step.
So why the heck (Mom’s reading) am I in Cairo? The resume? You bet. The Arabic training? Definitely. A really sweet story to tell? Sure. Help disenfranchised unaccompanied Somalian minors gain jobs and live more fulfilling lives? Most definitely. But as with many things our experiences are simply more than the sum of their parts.
As I said above, tonight we were college students. We shattered the Duke bubble and temporarily abandoned our American sanctuary to enter something very different. In doing so we made ourselves vulnerable – both psychologically, intellectually, physically, and emotionally. But I think that is what it means to be a college student. To dissect every piece of your life, analyze your observations, and eventually reconstruct your lens.
Being in Cairo for only three weeks has given me such perspective. I’m 20 and prone to passionate reactions and definitely still a victim of naïve, sophomoric ideals. But do these thoughts relinquish their grasp with age? I would venture that they do not. However, I would have to ask someone with another century under their belt to reach any conclusion on that matter.
Despite the infinitude of problems in our world today (a reality which I suspect is not unique to this era) there is something serene about contemplating the great potential that every individual possesses. I have learned so much from the people in my DukeEngage team. We threw ourselves into Cairo like fish being thrown ashore. And although we have already experienced many frustrations, joys, fears, and elations we have continued to walk the “road less traveled” (I am always indebted to Robert Frost). This provides a unique confidence – that regardless of conditions we have pledged the passion and commitment to recognize a challenge and engage it completely. Allowing our individual tributaries to flow into an ocean of ideas and possibilities is rewarding beyond words.
It is rare that we take the time to sit and think about where our time is being spent, much less why we are spending it doing X activity. But tonight afforded us all the opportunity to think about our role as young people. I have loved the song “Better Days” by the Goo Goo Dolls for years and feel that one line perceptively captures my enthusiasm. I hope that the poignancy of tonight's emotions will continue to reverberate through the following five weeks and beyond.
“And the one poor child who saved this world
And there's 10 million more who probably could
If we all just stopped and said a prayer for them”
Cheers,
Jonathan
Monday, June 30, 2008
Kareem and Louis
Today I met two Egyptian teenagers drinking coffee and smoking shisha in a cafe in Khan al-Khalilii. We had a delightful chat in three languages – English, Arabic, and German (the order is no coincidence, it denotes the amount of conversation in each tongue). What I found particularly interesting was Kareem’s unrelenting curiosity about dating. He provided a quick vignette of how he had recently asked a girl for a kiss on the cheek, only to receive a full forced slap across the face instead.
Remember that dating in Egypt is quite taboo – young men get married around the age of 25 (at least according to Kareem and Louis) without having much contact with their bride. Therefore the concept of “dating” was quite foreign, cognitively, geographically and culturally. When I explained my understanding of dating in America (however skewed it might be with relation to pop culture) is was obvious that my experiences were something that he and his friends lusted after. Egypt was stifling their social life, he thought, by eliminating any extracurricular (outside the classroom) contact between the sexes. This references a stagnant and antiquated ideology that starkly contrasts the desire for mobility – as expressed through the more internationally and progressively minded youth.
Egypt is treading water. Our group has repeatedly observed a predominant lackadaisical attitude in the work force – nothing happens on time or to professional standards. Personal experiences with my Internet, broken toilets, electricity, apartment issues, interactions with cops, or restaurant owners only support these unfortunate observations. The general lack of ability to improve one’s conditions appears to have a withering effect on the work ethic of many Cairenes.
Although I recognize that my observations probably reflect only a small percentage of Cairo’s populace, I unfortunately have not found overwhelming contrary evidence.
Having said that, I do believe that I experienced a breath of fresh air with Kareem and Louis. Their simple query on dating made me believe that they want more than what is available to them. That does not mean abandoning Egypt, but rather patiently sifting through the problems to identify the potential solutions.
Remember that dating in Egypt is quite taboo – young men get married around the age of 25 (at least according to Kareem and Louis) without having much contact with their bride. Therefore the concept of “dating” was quite foreign, cognitively, geographically and culturally. When I explained my understanding of dating in America (however skewed it might be with relation to pop culture) is was obvious that my experiences were something that he and his friends lusted after. Egypt was stifling their social life, he thought, by eliminating any extracurricular (outside the classroom) contact between the sexes. This references a stagnant and antiquated ideology that starkly contrasts the desire for mobility – as expressed through the more internationally and progressively minded youth.
Egypt is treading water. Our group has repeatedly observed a predominant lackadaisical attitude in the work force – nothing happens on time or to professional standards. Personal experiences with my Internet, broken toilets, electricity, apartment issues, interactions with cops, or restaurant owners only support these unfortunate observations. The general lack of ability to improve one’s conditions appears to have a withering effect on the work ethic of many Cairenes.
Although I recognize that my observations probably reflect only a small percentage of Cairo’s populace, I unfortunately have not found overwhelming contrary evidence.
Having said that, I do believe that I experienced a breath of fresh air with Kareem and Louis. Their simple query on dating made me believe that they want more than what is available to them. That does not mean abandoning Egypt, but rather patiently sifting through the problems to identify the potential solutions.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Rachel Ray in Africa?
Ever have someone approach you on the street pleading for a dollar; claiming that a dollar a day can feed a child in Africa? Either way, it is certainly a clever ploy to pluck an emotional chord and open your heart through your wallet. Guilt is a powerful weapon.
But, I always wondered about the efficacy of that lonely dollar. Compassion may be one of our greatest virtues, but manifesting it productively seems to be quite a challenge.
So for a day I tried to evaluate this potentially spurious catch phrase by living on a dollar a day.
First, let’s look at some of the cheapest Egyptian cuisine available in Garden City. Remember that my apartment is located in a “more rugged” part of town, and that the local shops are far from gourmet. A final note, this is not a MasterCard commercial nor am I trying to imitate Rachel Ray’s $40 a Day television series.
Breakfast – One croissant (1 LE, about $0.20). 1.5 liter bottle of water (2 LE, about $0.40)
Lunch – Provided by St. Andrews, usually a soup or stew and bread (we contribute 2 LE each day, about $0.40). Alternative is a ta’amiyya sandwich (falafel) for 1 LE.
Dinner – Koshari (3 LE, about $0.60).
Daily Total = 8 LE, or about $1.60.
A few further considerations. Although this is over $1, we can reduce the numbers to the absolute necessities. A 1.5 liter of water and a koshari (pasta, rice, lentils, and small amount of tomato sauce) will cost exactly 5 LE, or $1. This provides hydration, carbs, fiber, and small amount of protein.
Enough to live? Yes. But enough to live well with a wholesome, balanced diet? Certainly not. That hackneyed health pyramid looks pretty obsolete on this budget.
Despite my skepticism it definitely seems possible to live off a $1 a day. Not comfortably. But that isn’t the original claim.
This brief experience definitely puts the idea of sustenance into perspective. But I won’t claim to be more sagacious now, because throughout the day I knew that it was only temporary.
For too many people, my experiment is their reality.
But, I always wondered about the efficacy of that lonely dollar. Compassion may be one of our greatest virtues, but manifesting it productively seems to be quite a challenge.
So for a day I tried to evaluate this potentially spurious catch phrase by living on a dollar a day.
First, let’s look at some of the cheapest Egyptian cuisine available in Garden City. Remember that my apartment is located in a “more rugged” part of town, and that the local shops are far from gourmet. A final note, this is not a MasterCard commercial nor am I trying to imitate Rachel Ray’s $40 a Day television series.
Breakfast – One croissant (1 LE, about $0.20). 1.5 liter bottle of water (2 LE, about $0.40)
Lunch – Provided by St. Andrews, usually a soup or stew and bread (we contribute 2 LE each day, about $0.40). Alternative is a ta’amiyya sandwich (falafel) for 1 LE.
Dinner – Koshari (3 LE, about $0.60).
Daily Total = 8 LE, or about $1.60.
A few further considerations. Although this is over $1, we can reduce the numbers to the absolute necessities. A 1.5 liter of water and a koshari (pasta, rice, lentils, and small amount of tomato sauce) will cost exactly 5 LE, or $1. This provides hydration, carbs, fiber, and small amount of protein.
Enough to live? Yes. But enough to live well with a wholesome, balanced diet? Certainly not. That hackneyed health pyramid looks pretty obsolete on this budget.
Despite my skepticism it definitely seems possible to live off a $1 a day. Not comfortably. But that isn’t the original claim.
This brief experience definitely puts the idea of sustenance into perspective. But I won’t claim to be more sagacious now, because throughout the day I knew that it was only temporary.
For too many people, my experiment is their reality.
Hands
Chronologically, this comment is out of order – but warranting its own post.
While learning the body parts in Arabic class on Wednesday our professor showed us a little "trick" that reflects a beautiful Islamic tradition.
I will do my best to explain it.
If you look at your hands, the lines on your left palm form the number 81 in Persian numerals (system used in Arabic, whereas Arabic numerals are used for the English language) and the lines on your right palm form the number 18.
81 + 18 = 99
And there are 99 names for God in Islam. These names are recited during prayer (many Muslims carry prayer beads with 33 links, each one representing three names of God). These names describe the attributes of God, as Islamic theology makes a strict distinction between attributes and essence. It is irreverent to be named one of these divine qualities, but a great compliment (hopeful foreshadowing perhaps) to be called the “servant” of an attribute. For example, a son may be named Abd al-Malik (servant of the King), but not al-Malik (the King).
An interesting thought.
Cheers,
Jonathan
While learning the body parts in Arabic class on Wednesday our professor showed us a little "trick" that reflects a beautiful Islamic tradition.
I will do my best to explain it.
If you look at your hands, the lines on your left palm form the number 81 in Persian numerals (system used in Arabic, whereas Arabic numerals are used for the English language) and the lines on your right palm form the number 18.
81 + 18 = 99
And there are 99 names for God in Islam. These names are recited during prayer (many Muslims carry prayer beads with 33 links, each one representing three names of God). These names describe the attributes of God, as Islamic theology makes a strict distinction between attributes and essence. It is irreverent to be named one of these divine qualities, but a great compliment (hopeful foreshadowing perhaps) to be called the “servant” of an attribute. For example, a son may be named Abd al-Malik (servant of the King), but not al-Malik (the King).
An interesting thought.
Cheers,
Jonathan
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Khatt al-Yad
As if four hours of intensive Arabic every day isn’t demanding enough, Al-Diwan also offers calligraphy classes. Regardless of the time and energy commitment, I have opted to pursue this opportunity to study a vibrant art central to the Islamic tradition. Because the language of the Qur’an is so quintessential to Muslims, calligraphy is considered their highest form of artistic expression.
If a picture adequately says a thousands words, than I will have saved you plenty of reading.
To the left is the basmalah written in the shape of a pear. The basmalah is the initiating line that appears before every sura (except one) in the Qur'an, is recited several times during prayer throughout the day, appears in the preamble in many Islamic constitutions, heads general documents and books, and is often recited before beginning speeches Providing an accurate and comprehensible translation is most difficult, as this short verse has an enormous plethero of layers, meanings, and interpretations. But for time's sake let us use:- بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم
- bismi-llāhi ar-raḥmāni ar-raḥīmi
- "In the name of God, Most Gracious, Most Merciful"
Below is a shot of the Dome of the Rock; observe the intricate calligraphy adorning the walls. This master craftsmanship was constructed from porcelain during the reign of Suleiman the Magnificant in the 16th century, and depicting the Qur'anic sura "ya-sin". Above "ya-sin" is the sura "al-isra". The former chapter (36) is often read at Muslim funerals, while the latter chapter (17) describes the Prophet Muhammad's miraculous Night Journey (isra) from Mecca to Jerusalem ("The Farthest Mosque") and his temporary ascension to heaven (mi'raj). This sura is particularly important because it establishes the five daily prayers (salat) prescribed for all Muslims.
Cheers,
Jonathan
Monday, June 23, 2008
2 in 24
In Cairo taxi drivers often neither speak English (not much a problem, unless they cannot find the place) nor have any idea where to go (not much of a problem, unless they don’t speak any English or cannot understand your Arabic). So far I have been fortunate to experience only one of these two conditions at a time. And even if they speak English I refuse to speak anything but Arabic – probably irritating for them, but darn good practice for me.
Anyway, this morning my driver and I were chatting on the way to St. Andrews and he asked me if I was a Christian. An interesting and unexpected question. However, this was after mentioning that his brother lived in Ohio*. I asked if he had ever visited the States – a feeble attempt to change the subject to something lighter. He retorted that as a Copt (Egyptian Christian) he could not travel because of the “Muslim problem”.
A “Muslim problem”? What exactly does that mean? The relationship between Copts and Muslims in Egypt is strained at best, and while the international community faces serious issues (macro and micro) involving degrees of tension, this blanket statement references a sad reality. At least a reality for many. Moreover, his comment is certainly not an isolated event in Egypt – these voices are unfortunately omnipresent in too many societies. Thankfully groups such as the Interfaith Youth Core, Tony Blair Faith Foundation, Religions for Peace, CRES, and the Pluralism Project at Harvard all seek to slowly rehabilitate the scarred landscape of multi-religious relations.
Another observation regarding perceptions of the Muslim-Christian relationship emerged from Arabic class last night. Our professor was quizzing us on the names of capitals and their countries (in Arabic) and included an association that seemed quite natural in his mind.
“Filastiin – al-Quds”. Palestine – Jerusalem.
While I will reserve commentary on the core issue, I would like to point out a few political realities. Currently, Palestine is not a country – it is a geographic location, a territory, and an ever-shrinking refuge. And Jerusalem, despite its Muslim population and presence (the largest quarter in the city belongs to the Muslims), is not the capital of Palestine. And although eastern Jerusalem is considered to be the “potential” capital of the Palestinian state, that reality has yet to reach fruition. Furthermore, the city is devoid of embassies and lacks international recognition as Israel’s capital.
Our professor at al-Diwan holds obvious sympathies with the Palestinians, as was expressed in this subtle, perhaps unconscious denial of the Israeli state, affirmation of the Palestinian state, and the implicit ownership of Jerusalem (Islam’s third holiest city, trailing Mecca and Medina). I wonder if his interpretation of the “situation” is intentionally tainted or is simply a product of his environment. Perhaps both. And what does this say about conflict resolution? If neither group (whether Palestinian, Israeli, or outsider) recognizes the problems, no matter how concrete, abstract, or manifested, then any genuine progress seems unpromising.
In the course of 24 hours I experienced two very different voices, each within the broader context of religion, politics, and land, each expressing fallacious assumptions about their Abrahamic brothers. And some people think religion is irrelevant. Time to rethink.
Jonathan
* Many shop owners on the street will brashly approach foreigners (it is really quite hard to blend in) and offer assistance. This inevitably leads to them saying that their “insert family member” lives in “large American city” – a ploy to continue conversation. Naturally, this is a hook to lure the bait into a highly overpriced shop …
** Both pictures were taken when I was in Jerusalem last month. The top shot is the view from a church looking out on the Old City. The second shot is in an alleyway in the Muslim quarter.
Anyway, this morning my driver and I were chatting on the way to St. Andrews and he asked me if I was a Christian. An interesting and unexpected question. However, this was after mentioning that his brother lived in Ohio*. I asked if he had ever visited the States – a feeble attempt to change the subject to something lighter. He retorted that as a Copt (Egyptian Christian) he could not travel because of the “Muslim problem”.
A “Muslim problem”? What exactly does that mean? The relationship between Copts and Muslims in Egypt is strained at best, and while the international community faces serious issues (macro and micro) involving degrees of tension, this blanket statement references a sad reality. At least a reality for many. Moreover, his comment is certainly not an isolated event in Egypt – these voices are unfortunately omnipresent in too many societies. Thankfully groups such as the Interfaith Youth Core, Tony Blair Faith Foundation, Religions for Peace, CRES, and the Pluralism Project at Harvard all seek to slowly rehabilitate the scarred landscape of multi-religious relations.
Another observation regarding perceptions of the Muslim-Christian relationship emerged from Arabic class last night. Our professor was quizzing us on the names of capitals and their countries (in Arabic) and included an association that seemed quite natural in his mind.
“Filastiin – al-Quds”. Palestine – Jerusalem.
While I will reserve commentary on the core issue, I would like to point out a few political realities. Currently, Palestine is not a country – it is a geographic location, a territory, and an ever-shrinking refuge. And Jerusalem, despite its Muslim population and presence (the largest quarter in the city belongs to the Muslims), is not the capital of Palestine. And although eastern Jerusalem is considered to be the “potential” capital of the Palestinian state, that reality has yet to reach fruition. Furthermore, the city is devoid of embassies and lacks international recognition as Israel’s capital.
Our professor at al-Diwan holds obvious sympathies with the Palestinians, as was expressed in this subtle, perhaps unconscious denial of the Israeli state, affirmation of the Palestinian state, and the implicit ownership of Jerusalem (Islam’s third holiest city, trailing Mecca and Medina). I wonder if his interpretation of the “situation” is intentionally tainted or is simply a product of his environment. Perhaps both. And what does this say about conflict resolution? If neither group (whether Palestinian, Israeli, or outsider) recognizes the problems, no matter how concrete, abstract, or manifested, then any genuine progress seems unpromising.
In the course of 24 hours I experienced two very different voices, each within the broader context of religion, politics, and land, each expressing fallacious assumptions about their Abrahamic brothers. And some people think religion is irrelevant. Time to rethink.
Jonathan
* Many shop owners on the street will brashly approach foreigners (it is really quite hard to blend in) and offer assistance. This inevitably leads to them saying that their “insert family member” lives in “large American city” – a ploy to continue conversation. Naturally, this is a hook to lure the bait into a highly overpriced shop …
** Both pictures were taken when I was in Jerusalem last month. The top shot is the view from a church looking out on the Old City. The second shot is in an alleyway in the Muslim quarter.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Arid and Awash in A Day
Yesterday we went to the Pyramids at Giza. The necropolis consists of three larger and three lesser pyramids; all erected as tombs for famous kings or queens of ancient Egypt. The Great Pyramid of Khufu (Cheops in Greek) is the last remaining monument of the “Seven Wonders of the Ancient World”. I climbed through a narrow chamber down into the Pyramid of Khafre, a 4,500 years old tomb (if not older, consult Graham Hancock is you are particularly curious)! And I mounted a camel.The picture below is a shot of our group in front of the Sphinx. Notice that the nose is missing -- when Napoleon entered Egypt he deemed the facial features to be too "African" and ordered that the nose be smashed and removed.
One note of interest is that the stones used to construct the pyramids are only found in northern Sudan. Well, this is if you reject a recent theory that the blocks were constructed onsite from a “limestone concrete”. Tens of thousands of builders camped in the desert and worked in teams over a 20-year construction period. Even more curious is the astronomical alignment of these enormous polyhedron – the faces of the three larger pyramids are all aligned to true north-south and true east-west. In fact, the precision of the structures’ astronomical alignment is unbelievable, all perfectly replicating the three stars in Orion’s belt. Heaven on earth.
After our trip to the Pyramids we took a falooqa (large sail boat) ride down the Nile. It was absolutely beautiful. Spending two full hours in a boat gently gliding down the Nile (despite its sordid waters) was not only refreshing but induced a reflective mood that permitted some musing on Cairo. Below is a shot of the dock before sunset.
I maintain that Cairo is an incredible cacophony of beautiful features and unfortunate conditions. The infrastructure is stagnant and steadily collapsing under corruption, pollution, apathy, poverty, and overpopulation. The people don’t appear to care about their conditions – the exceptionally wealthy ignore the poor and the poor resent the affluent. Apathetic acceptance of one’s status seems to be the modus operandi and social mobility appears nonexistent. While Egypt is undoubtedly a police state governed by force, the legal system is corrupt and highly ineffective. For example, last week a cab driver got out of his car to solicit a ride to several of us returning from Zamalek (a “region” in Cairo); at which time a random guy jumped inside the cab and sped off down the street. The driver blitzed (on foot) after the cab screaming obscenities, to no avail. This entire time a triad of policemen were quietly observing – without action towards helping the unfortunate cab driver, who is now without both a “cab” and “driver” status.
Despite the many thorns of Cairo, there are equally as many roses – which makes characterizing the city highly challenging. Yet sadly, many of the things I enjoy here are highly westernized – like the Gold’s Gym that sits right of the Nile and caters exclusively to Westerners and incredibly wealthy Egyptians. Or the hotels that are as luxurious as the priciest spots in New York. Or the ritzy Italian and French restaurants (few and far between) tucked away in small, dingy neighborhoods. But at the same time the people are almost universally very friendly and receptive – regardless of status or wealth.
As divisive as the "effects" of the economy may be, the baker down the street, and the man at the corner shop missing several teeth are both just as friendly as the waiter at our favorite French restaurant (La Aboudega). People are incredibly honest – honor is central to their culture, a feature of Islam and the Arab world. For example, a few days ago I was short 1 LE (about $0.20) when purchasing some bread at the bakery. Instead of making a fuss about it, the man calmly said that I could come back the next day with the 1 LE. Granted the money is an insignificant amount, I was impressed that he trusted a foreigner, much less a young person, to walk off without paying the full price. And today I had a great conversation with some random guy (around my age) about the upcoming soccer match between Turkey and Germany. Like most places, a simple greeting in the native tongue and a bright smile goes a long way.
Cairo is too thick to sift through too quickly. There is simply too much to digest. The city is a collage of the Arab culture, the Muslim tradition, the strains of an African country plagued by recent wars and governments, and a fervent desire to both westernize, modernize, and maintain its ancient historical roots. Yet Cairo continues to impress me, and delight me in unforeseen ways. As many frustrations as I encounter, they are often relieved by a fortunate experience or a friendly Egyptian who proves quite helpful rather than devious.
Perhaps in time my thoughts will start to percolate into a more concise and articulate understanding of Cairo. In shaa Allah.
Jonathan
14% is Too Much.
What a week.
We just completed our first week of teaching English and Arabic classes. I confess it was one of the most exhausting and challenging weeks I have endured in a long time.
Perhaps “endured” isn’t right word though – its much more complicated than that. As arduous as it has been, this first week has been highly rewarding on many fronts.
An average day runs (read: races) something like this:
8:30 AM – wake up and take an ice cold shower. But to be fair, it’s really the latter before the former.
9:00 AM – Dylan and I leave the apartment to meet a few of the girls at a little café (el Nuby Kawah) on the main street (Qasr al-Einy). This is where and when the day really begins. After a strong cup of Arabic coffee (something that has truly captivated my palette) we sn
ag a taxi to St. Andrews. Arabic coffee is born by coupling a healthy pile of ground beans and an equally “healthy” amount of sugar, with a touch of nutmeg and cardimum of course. Afterwards, the barista (well, not quite but the word will suffice) adds a small amount of water (perhaps 7 fl oz) and boils the mixture over a flame. In about 5 minutes you have a stiff cup of coffee much akin to rocketfuel. Best part is that when you’ve consumed the cup there is inevitably a clump of “sludge” (gritty solvent). Great way to begin to day – Folger’s missed the mark on this one.
10:00 AM to 2:00 PM – Teaching begins. We have five groups of two “teachers” apiece and each group is paired with two to four students. For the first two hours we work in our small groups, then we break for lunch (usually ta’amiyya or foul in pita). Afterwards we congregate for group activities – thus far these have included Pictionary, learning the birthday song, and playing hangman. That concludes our teaching session. More later.
2:30 PM to 5:00 PM – FREE TIME! Well, kind of. After returning from St. Andrews we normally grab a quick bite to eat and do our Arabic homework. And blog … which as you can tell, is, well unfortunately quickly becoming a sporadic activity.
5:00 to 7:00 PM – Activities or Calligraphy. Despite the disappointment of al-Diwan some of us have chosen to take this two hour period off … myself included. Quite frankly I need time to recharge before class, but I am hoping that in the following weeks I attend. In shaa Allah (God willing, a common expression used in lieu of “hopefully”)!
7:00 PM to 11:00 PM - Arabic class. Four hours of intensive Arabic with Jamal (our professor) really kicks you in the you-know-what. But honestly, its great. As difficult it is, my Arabic is skyrocketing.
Well, relatively speaking … if you could call running two meters of a marathon in 25 minutes skyrocketing …
It is an amazing opportunity to study here – lekin (“but” in Arabic) it is a tad bit frustrating when we try to practice outside class. Egyptians speak a heavy dialect (aamiyya) that is distinctly different from formal Arabic (fus’ha) – which makes communication difficult at the very least.
In all seriousness though, having such a focused environment with heavy concentration on one subject really hones our abilities. Our books are all in Arabic, so the professor has to Google translate words (by typing them into image search).
11:30 PM – We get out of class and frantically search for a place to eat dinner. It’s quite a challenge to eat lunch at noon and dinner at midnight. Afterwards we normally hang out at the girls place and Skype with friends and family back home, blog, do Arabic homework, or just reflect for a bit.
2:00 to 4:00 AM – depending on the aforementioned activities, the day finally ends. And begins anew in about six hours!
Highly draining, but doubly fulfilling. I look forward to the remaining 86% (6/7 weeks).
Jonathan
We just completed our first week of teaching English and Arabic classes. I confess it was one of the most exhausting and challenging weeks I have endured in a long time.
Perhaps “endured” isn’t right word though – its much more complicated than that. As arduous as it has been, this first week has been highly rewarding on many fronts.
An average day runs (read: races) something like this:
8:30 AM – wake up and take an ice cold shower. But to be fair, it’s really the latter before the former.
9:00 AM – Dylan and I leave the apartment to meet a few of the girls at a little café (el Nuby Kawah) on the main street (Qasr al-Einy). This is where and when the day really begins. After a strong cup of Arabic coffee (something that has truly captivated my palette) we sn
ag a taxi to St. Andrews. Arabic coffee is born by coupling a healthy pile of ground beans and an equally “healthy” amount of sugar, with a touch of nutmeg and cardimum of course. Afterwards, the barista (well, not quite but the word will suffice) adds a small amount of water (perhaps 7 fl oz) and boils the mixture over a flame. In about 5 minutes you have a stiff cup of coffee much akin to rocketfuel. Best part is that when you’ve consumed the cup there is inevitably a clump of “sludge” (gritty solvent). Great way to begin to day – Folger’s missed the mark on this one.10:00 AM to 2:00 PM – Teaching begins. We have five groups of two “teachers” apiece and each group is paired with two to four students. For the first two hours we work in our small groups, then we break for lunch (usually ta’amiyya or foul in pita). Afterwards we congregate for group activities – thus far these have included Pictionary, learning the birthday song, and playing hangman. That concludes our teaching session. More later.
2:30 PM to 5:00 PM – FREE TIME! Well, kind of. After returning from St. Andrews we normally grab a quick bite to eat and do our Arabic homework. And blog … which as you can tell, is, well unfortunately quickly becoming a sporadic activity.
5:00 to 7:00 PM – Activities or Calligraphy. Despite the disappointment of al-Diwan some of us have chosen to take this two hour period off … myself included. Quite frankly I need time to recharge before class, but I am hoping that in the following weeks I attend. In shaa Allah (God willing, a common expression used in lieu of “hopefully”)!
7:00 PM to 11:00 PM - Arabic class. Four hours of intensive Arabic with Jamal (our professor) really kicks you in the you-know-what. But honestly, its great. As difficult it is, my Arabic is skyrocketing.
Well, relatively speaking … if you could call running two meters of a marathon in 25 minutes skyrocketing …
It is an amazing opportunity to study here – lekin (“but” in Arabic) it is a tad bit frustrating when we try to practice outside class. Egyptians speak a heavy dialect (aamiyya) that is distinctly different from formal Arabic (fus’ha) – which makes communication difficult at the very least.
In all seriousness though, having such a focused environment with heavy concentration on one subject really hones our abilities. Our books are all in Arabic, so the professor has to Google translate words (by typing them into image search).
11:30 PM – We get out of class and frantically search for a place to eat dinner. It’s quite a challenge to eat lunch at noon and dinner at midnight. Afterwards we normally hang out at the girls place and Skype with friends and family back home, blog, do Arabic homework, or just reflect for a bit.
2:00 to 4:00 AM – depending on the aforementioned activities, the day finally ends. And begins anew in about six hours!
Highly draining, but doubly fulfilling. I look forward to the remaining 86% (6/7 weeks).
Jonathan
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Visual Update 1
Given our hectic schedule my photography time has been limited -- but I look forward to capturing moments at St. Andrews and our trips in the future.
This is the view from our first apartment.
It's wild to think about Moses just floating his way up that big boy.
A Qur'an laying on the counter in the first apartment. Almost every single taxi driver has a Qur'an laying on his dashboard. Not only is it a sacred religious text, but it projects the history of the Muslim world and the eminence of their language. Arabic is the blood of the Arab tradition, their greatest art is their in words.
Below is a collection of pictures looking out from the girls' apartment (top) and from the boys' new apartment (middle, bottom).
All for now!
Jonathan
This is the view from our first apartment.It's wild to think about Moses just floating his way up that big boy.
A Qur'an laying on the counter in the first apartment. Almost every single taxi driver has a Qur'an laying on his dashboard. Not only is it a sacred religious text, but it projects the history of the Muslim world and the eminence of their language. Arabic is the blood of the Arab tradition, their greatest art is their in words.
Below is a collection of pictures looking out from the girls' apartment (top) and from the boys' new apartment (middle, bottom).
All for now!
Jonathan
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Medinah Al-Qahirah
The city of Cairo is daunting, gargantuan, and overcrowded at the very least. “Housing” (more or less) over 18 million people (half a million policemen alone, but that is another story) it is truly an uber-metropolis. The wealth disparity is unbelievable; Egyptians either drive Mercedes or a taxicab from the 1970’s (held together as if by a single bolt), if they have cars at all. Many Egyptians are impoverished and are forced to take menial jobs such as cooking on the street or monitoring apartment entrances (bowabs). Certainly not opportunities for a country to develop its infrastructure or change the status quo. Moreover, the wealthy Egyptians (few and far between) deny the very existence of their non-affluent “neighbors”.
Driving is like being in a rollercoaster without seatbelts. Only Egyptians drive – which is probably good because no foreigner would ever survive the chaos. The symphony of horns produces a variety of different voices, articulating the thoughts of the individual driver. “Move”, “I’m here”, “Get out of the way!”, “Do you need a taxi”, “You are about to hit me”, “You are about to be hit”, “Its party time*” are just a few examples of this horn-language. People also drive 4-5 cars deep in lanes designed for 2 … and swerve around like bats out of hell. But shockingly, we have yet to witness an accident! El-hamdu Allah (Praise be to God)!
The food is … simple. Egyptian cuisine was never known for its elegance or pleasant effect on either the palette or the stomach. The three stable items are foul (fava beans), ta’amiya (falafel), and koshari (rice, lentils, pasta, and tomato-meat sauce mixed in a bowl). That and bread. Lots of bread. On the bright side, if you find good places to eat, it can be quite delicious. Either way, it still requires a little adjustment – a fine tuning that I am slowing developing. On the brightest side, Arabic coffee is phenomenal. It’s a stiff shot of intense (the word doesn’t do justice) coffee with the consistency of sludge when it settles at the bottom. It is often consumed throughout the day, and enjoyed with shisha (tobacco). Great way to start and end the day.
It is certainly a wild place. After passing through the phase of initial surprise and delight, I found myself a little down on its conditions. The pollution is unbelievable, the poverty is depressing, and the city doesn’t appear to have changed in fifty years. And the government certainly isn’t helping. In fact, they recently reacted to rocketing food prices by raising the average salary – of government employees. This only further pushed the average Egyptian into poverty, exacerbating the pre-existing conditions. Corruption is the name of the game. It seems that the only way for Egypt to mobilize out this stagnancy is for the government to drastically (again, an understatement) change. Perhaps America should send in Obama**.
Despite this governmental corruption and harsh living conditions that affect the majority of the population, people are (for the most part, as in any region) delightfully friendly. A simple smile and ahlan (welcome, in shortened modern form) truly goes a long way – people will react with a variety of Arabic greetings and a large smile. It seems that staring (something we are all cognizant of on the streets, especially the girls) is the result of pure curiosity rather than brash hostility.
Until then, thanks for reading.
Cheers,
Jonathan
* Probably my favorite horn “voice” is when young people blaze down the street hanging half way out of the windows while honking to the beat of their music. I suppose boyish charm never goes out of style…
**Disclaimer: I tentatively support Obama, but couldn’t resist the opportunity to poke fun at the undeniable association of Obama and the word “change”.
Driving is like being in a rollercoaster without seatbelts. Only Egyptians drive – which is probably good because no foreigner would ever survive the chaos. The symphony of horns produces a variety of different voices, articulating the thoughts of the individual driver. “Move”, “I’m here”, “Get out of the way!”, “Do you need a taxi”, “You are about to hit me”, “You are about to be hit”, “Its party time*” are just a few examples of this horn-language. People also drive 4-5 cars deep in lanes designed for 2 … and swerve around like bats out of hell. But shockingly, we have yet to witness an accident! El-hamdu Allah (Praise be to God)!
The food is … simple. Egyptian cuisine was never known for its elegance or pleasant effect on either the palette or the stomach. The three stable items are foul (fava beans), ta’amiya (falafel), and koshari (rice, lentils, pasta, and tomato-meat sauce mixed in a bowl). That and bread. Lots of bread. On the bright side, if you find good places to eat, it can be quite delicious. Either way, it still requires a little adjustment – a fine tuning that I am slowing developing. On the brightest side, Arabic coffee is phenomenal. It’s a stiff shot of intense (the word doesn’t do justice) coffee with the consistency of sludge when it settles at the bottom. It is often consumed throughout the day, and enjoyed with shisha (tobacco). Great way to start and end the day.
It is certainly a wild place. After passing through the phase of initial surprise and delight, I found myself a little down on its conditions. The pollution is unbelievable, the poverty is depressing, and the city doesn’t appear to have changed in fifty years. And the government certainly isn’t helping. In fact, they recently reacted to rocketing food prices by raising the average salary – of government employees. This only further pushed the average Egyptian into poverty, exacerbating the pre-existing conditions. Corruption is the name of the game. It seems that the only way for Egypt to mobilize out this stagnancy is for the government to drastically (again, an understatement) change. Perhaps America should send in Obama**.
Despite this governmental corruption and harsh living conditions that affect the majority of the population, people are (for the most part, as in any region) delightfully friendly. A simple smile and ahlan (welcome, in shortened modern form) truly goes a long way – people will react with a variety of Arabic greetings and a large smile. It seems that staring (something we are all cognizant of on the streets, especially the girls) is the result of pure curiosity rather than brash hostility.
Until then, thanks for reading.
Cheers,
Jonathan
* Probably my favorite horn “voice” is when young people blaze down the street hanging half way out of the windows while honking to the beat of their music. I suppose boyish charm never goes out of style…
**Disclaimer: I tentatively support Obama, but couldn’t resist the opportunity to poke fun at the undeniable association of Obama and the word “change”.
T.I.A.
After one week in Cairo Dylan and I finally have internet in our new apartment. Although the debacle with our apartments was seemingly endless at the time, I will attempt to provide a brief summary. Afterwards I will post some of my reactions and thoughts regarding several components of our trip thus far, including the city, our work at St. Andrews, and studying Arabic at Al-Diwan.
Basically the first apartment didn't cut it. After two nights we realized that the old place simply would not suffice as a temporary home. The doorman was unfriendly and unhelpful, the elevator was precarious at best, internet connection was nonexistent, the electricity did not work with the exception of one plug – which provided our lighting (two lamps on the floor), the air conditioning did not work, everything was caked in dust and grime, and the list goes on. Thus, we opted to move.
Our new place is much cleaner, nearer a few small markets and right down the street from the girls, on sharia hassan mourad. However, as we know nothing is perfect! Our water is highly unreliable and ice cold, the toilets don't work (we have to flush them by filling up buckets and pouring water down the bowl), and the beds constantly fall apart (they are shabbily constructed with a headboard, foot board, and horizontal wooden planks). That’s fine though -- we are managing. Actually, I am used to it all; and it really isn’t that bad. In fact, the frigid showers are quite delightful either before bed (after a day in the heat and dust of the city) or to wake up in the morning (after about 5 hours of sleep). It is amazing how much you miss some things (like internet) but quickly forget about others (such as functioning toilets and water temperature) when they are gone.
Well, I am off now to study Arabic before six straight hours of class. Wish me luck ;) I am loving it though. After adjusting (which was difficult), I am incredibly fortunate to have this opportunity.
Cheers,
Jonathan
P.S. "T.I.A." means "This Is Africa", an expression used when nothing happens on time, and when it does happen, it likely won't pan out as expected. Indeed, it was the story of week one.
Basically the first apartment didn't cut it. After two nights we realized that the old place simply would not suffice as a temporary home. The doorman was unfriendly and unhelpful, the elevator was precarious at best, internet connection was nonexistent, the electricity did not work with the exception of one plug – which provided our lighting (two lamps on the floor), the air conditioning did not work, everything was caked in dust and grime, and the list goes on. Thus, we opted to move.
Our new place is much cleaner, nearer a few small markets and right down the street from the girls, on sharia hassan mourad. However, as we know nothing is perfect! Our water is highly unreliable and ice cold, the toilets don't work (we have to flush them by filling up buckets and pouring water down the bowl), and the beds constantly fall apart (they are shabbily constructed with a headboard, foot board, and horizontal wooden planks). That’s fine though -- we are managing. Actually, I am used to it all; and it really isn’t that bad. In fact, the frigid showers are quite delightful either before bed (after a day in the heat and dust of the city) or to wake up in the morning (after about 5 hours of sleep). It is amazing how much you miss some things (like internet) but quickly forget about others (such as functioning toilets and water temperature) when they are gone.
Well, I am off now to study Arabic before six straight hours of class. Wish me luck ;) I am loving it though. After adjusting (which was difficult), I am incredibly fortunate to have this opportunity.
Cheers,
Jonathan
P.S. "T.I.A." means "This Is Africa", an expression used when nothing happens on time, and when it does happen, it likely won't pan out as expected. Indeed, it was the story of week one.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Day 1 -- June 10
I just arrived in Cairo.
In other news, while I was checking my luggage in JFK I had an interesting experience with the employee. The conversation went something like this:
Employee: "So where are you headed"
Me: "Cairo"
Employee: (looking at my passport) "Cross ... you know that's a Christian name ... and you're going to a Muslim country. Dangerous you know. Be careful."
Me: "Uhh, thanks..."
So, what prompted his thought? Moreover, why did he feel so compelled to share that information with me? Certainly wasn’t a funny joke. Perhaps a subtle example of xenophobia? Certainly reinforces a particular ignorance I would rather eradicate. But maybe I am reading into it too much.
Back to Cairo; right now I am sitting in our apartment flat -- which is enormous. Spanning two floors, Dylan and I have four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a dining room, a living room, a sitting room, and a hookah room ... all to ourselves. And the view from our Garden City balcony overlooks the Nile, the Egyptian Museum, and a cornucopia of various buildings. The din of honking traffic permeates the musty atmosphere and eventually fades into the periphery. And thankfully, opening our large windows provides a cool breeze to alleviate the heat.
While Dylan and I are sharing this loft, much reminiscent of a colonial British tent, or maybe my grandmother's place, the girls are in a separate apartment building. For now, we are awaiting Prof. Lo’s arrival in Cairo, and will eventually head out to dinner and an orientation meeting. Admittedly, it has already been quite a day. The sheer chaos of the city is immediately apparent, which should make for an adventuresome two months!
More later, In Shaa Allah (God willing)
Jonathan
In other news, while I was checking my luggage in JFK I had an interesting experience with the employee. The conversation went something like this:
Employee: "So where are you headed"
Me: "Cairo"
Employee: (looking at my passport) "Cross ... you know that's a Christian name ... and you're going to a Muslim country. Dangerous you know. Be careful."
Me: "Uhh, thanks..."
So, what prompted his thought? Moreover, why did he feel so compelled to share that information with me? Certainly wasn’t a funny joke. Perhaps a subtle example of xenophobia? Certainly reinforces a particular ignorance I would rather eradicate. But maybe I am reading into it too much.
Back to Cairo; right now I am sitting in our apartment flat -- which is enormous. Spanning two floors, Dylan and I have four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a dining room, a living room, a sitting room, and a hookah room ... all to ourselves. And the view from our Garden City balcony overlooks the Nile, the Egyptian Museum, and a cornucopia of various buildings. The din of honking traffic permeates the musty atmosphere and eventually fades into the periphery. And thankfully, opening our large windows provides a cool breeze to alleviate the heat.
While Dylan and I are sharing this loft, much reminiscent of a colonial British tent, or maybe my grandmother's place, the girls are in a separate apartment building. For now, we are awaiting Prof. Lo’s arrival in Cairo, and will eventually head out to dinner and an orientation meeting. Admittedly, it has already been quite a day. The sheer chaos of the city is immediately apparent, which should make for an adventuresome two months!
More later, In Shaa Allah (God willing)
Jonathan
Friday, June 6, 2008
Welcome!
To everyone who will squander away their time reading my ramblings I owe both an apology and a sincere thanks; as I will attempt to be concise in providing raw, unrefined commentary. I hope that you enjoy reading about my time in Cairo as much as I will relish in recording my experiences.
In three days I will fly out of Dulles National Airport, through J.F.K in New York, to eventually arrive in Cairo on June 10th. At that point I will do my darnedest to acclimate myself to both the temperature and the atmosphere of the North African city. While the tasks of studying accelerated Arabic and working with Somalian refugees is no doubt daunting, I truly look forward to unknown and unforeseen challenges and delights.
Until Cairo!
Cheers,
Jonathan
In three days I will fly out of Dulles National Airport, through J.F.K in New York, to eventually arrive in Cairo on June 10th. At that point I will do my darnedest to acclimate myself to both the temperature and the atmosphere of the North African city. While the tasks of studying accelerated Arabic and working with Somalian refugees is no doubt daunting, I truly look forward to unknown and unforeseen challenges and delights.
Until Cairo!
Cheers,
Jonathan
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