habibi, habibti

As my time teaching Middle School comes to a roaring halt, I'm beginning to realize how much I will miss my little sweethearts, and how much I've come to enjoy teaching them.

Don't get me wrong. There have been hair-pulling, mind-boggling days, but these are sweet, life-loving kids who make me smile and laugh every day.

Some highlights from Middle School in Egypt...

Little H. has a hug for me every day, sometimes 3 or 4, depending on how many times she wanders past my classroom. She took French first semester, and ever since has said "I miss you."
F. taught me one new arabic word every day (or tried to). "ekher khalem." Final word. "Ya miss, this is a good one, it can be a question and an answer."

T. has the biggest smile I've ever seen, and flashes it for the world to see, even when (especially when?) he's in trouble.

My small beginner grade 7 class who put a fake cockroach on my chair and asked me what I was sitting on. They were witness to what I like to call "The Miss comes undone."

"Ya Miss." This is my title. Nothing more, nothing less. Clearly since even last week I was called Miss Cooper, Miss Mayo, and Miss Simon, they don't know the rest of my name.

Dancing. All the time. Sometimes them, sometimes me. But always, always dancing.I will miss my habibis.

East meeting West: My Neighbour

I did not come to Cairo with any intention of converting any Muslims to Christianity. I suppose that's obvious to some, but still worth saying. I did, however, want to learn more about Islam and understand more about the people who adhere to this religion.

I've written before about how great the church is that I attend here, and a few weeks ago I had yet another example about why this is so. In the middle of May we celebrated the Caravan of the Arts: My Neighbour.


The Caravan uses the Arts as a way to bridge religious gaps and start conversation between East and West, Christian and Muslim.


During, and immediately after the Revolution, Egyptians came together, promoting unity and understanding. Unfortunately, as political unease continued, incidences of sectarian violence returned, and there have been several church burnings and fighting between small groups of Muslims and Christians.

The issue of faith in this country is complex and historical. Coptic Christians are the minority here, making up about 10% of the population. As Egypt rebuilds and moves forward, we hope that Egypt can move forward with a renewed commitment to building bridges and gaining understanding of the 'other' amongst them.

Gianaclis Winery

Whenever we set out on adventures in Egypt, we go in with the mindset that it is going to be
a) so horribly disastrous that it will be awesome, or,
b) so great that it will be awesome.

As you can see, either way, every adventure has a story and some fun, and our trip to the Gianaclis Winery was no exception.


For once in our time in Egypt the day went off without a problem, except for the drive out of Cairo, which was about twice as long as the winery predicted. We spent the day touring the winery, tasting many different wines and enjoyed a nice meal as well. Because this is a brand new industry, wineries have not figured out that they can actually charge a lot more money than they did... I'm okay with that!


As you can see in the picture below, we were served our wine by a Muslim woman. This was a fascinating cultural oddity, one I'm not sure what to do with. The owners of the winery are either foreigners themselves or Christian, but many of their employees are Muslim. Obviously employment is employment, but I couldn't help but wonder what she felt and thought as she served us alcohol.

It was a fun excursion with great friends, many of whom are heading out of Cairo (along with me) this summer. We will miss each other dearly, and have been thoroughly enjoying our last days together!

Revolutionary Fatigue

Revolutions are exhausting. I'm sure you can imagine what this school year has been like.

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.

Kenya

In March, after teaching for two whole weeks, we had our previously scheduled Spring Break. I was able to travel to Nairobi, Kenya, to visit good friends of mine from DCHS, Brian and LeeAnne. They've been living in Nairobi since August, after a four year stint in Korea.

I loved Nairobi, and the national parks all around. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to go to another zoo again!

I spent the week with some other girls who were visiting at the same time, traveling from park to park, taking in nature that I never see here in the concrete jungle we call Cairo. Being in Brian and LeeAnne's presence was fantastic as well, a great time to debrief and refresh for what is shaping up to be an interesting and exhausting school year.

Pink is the colour of freedom

Pink is a hot colour this spring in Egypt.

Yesterday for the first time in .... well, a long time ... Egyptians voted. There was a referendum on amendments to the constitution. Now I'm not an expert on the issues presented, but I've heard the preliminary results were a "yes." I'm not sure what that means.

But it doesn't matter.

What matters is that Egyptians voted. They stood in line (I know!), waited for hours (this is still Egypt, after all), and they cast their "yes" and "no" for the constitution. There were no reported bribes, no stuffing of ballot boxes, and no fighting.

How do you track and register almost 40 million voters in just a few weeks, in a country that does not have the technological infrastructure?

You paint their finger pink. No word of a lie. Cast your vote, dip your finger. It won't wash off for a day or two.

This is Gada. She works at our school. Gada is female, she is Muslim, and yesterday for the first time in her life she voted.

She looks brilliant in pink.

Revolution Tourism

On Saturday we ventured out to Tahrir square to see where history was made. History is still being made, I suppose, and it was very interesting to see first hand the things that have been on the news lately.
There are still small groups forming to protest, especially on weekends. Saturday was the first day that traffic was allowed back in the square, so these soldiers are doing their best to keep a swelling crowd away from the streets. At the time this picture was taken, things were peaceful.

This is the courtyard of the National Democratic Party headquarters (the name of the party leading the government). It is right behind the big pink Egyptian National Museum.

Piles of barbed wire all over the place.

A view of Tahrir and the Egyptian National Museum, with the NDP building in the background.

Street art commemorating what happened between January 25 and February 18, approximately. There are lots of murals around my neighbourhood too, and I will take pictures of those soon.