At the end of March a few of us decided to crunch some numbers.
The longest I have stayed in one spot since November 11 is 20 days. (If we increase that number to 25 days, we can actually go back to June...)
Here's what the pattern looked like, roughly.
Cairo, Israel, Cairo, Abu Simbel, Cairo, Canada, Cairo, Sharm, Canada, Cairo, Kenya, Cairo.
My longest stretch in one spot is right now, today I hit 30 nights sleeping in my own apartment.
Total missed school days this year: 23 (Ramadan, elections, revolutions...)
The kids are cranky, the teachers are cranky. Perhaps we're feeding off of one another, creating this nasty perpetual cycle of crankiness.
Class trips have been canceled, as have school functions like dances and the like, due to concerns about safety and children being out after dark. These children have lost all the things that make school fun.
Last week there was a shooting across the road from the school, involving the theft of an automobile, innocent by-standers, and the police. A lock-down ensued. Lock-downs are difficult in a school without an intercom system.
Three nights last week traffic was so horrendous we spent almost 2 hours each trip sitting still – puddles, oil spills, accidents.
Last night one of our teachers had her laptop stolen off her arm while walking home in the early evening.
I'm reminded again and again that sometimes attitude is a choice, and that to an extent, I have to choose how to react, and which emotions are allowed to guide me.
I see hope and peace in the kites flying into the sunset over Cairo on a 2.5 hour bus ride home.
I hear hope and peace from the Arabic teacher whose office is next to mine. “I am 50. I vote. First time ever. No guns. Just “bye bye Mubarak.”
I see hope and peace on the smile of Gaylor, a 15 year old French-speaking Congolese refugee who has lost his entire family to war and strife, and who had to leave his home of 7 years in Libya to come to Cairo. If he can smile, why can't I?
I hear hope thumping from the psychedelic boats cruising the Nile, where we celebrated a dear friend's birthday, complete with an 'Egyptian pinata' and her 'Revolution mix tape.'
I am so thankful to be part of a profession that allows for two months of real rest. I cannot imagine working a job in a country that is this emotionally intense without that sort of planned break.
As of now, there are 10 weeks of school left. Here's hoping they are quiet, uneventful, and full of more hope and peace.
In the mean time, I will continue to be 'content with tentativeness from day to day.'
Salam.
