Like sands through the hour glass...

Egyptian men are kinda dramatic, or at least the ones that I live with. In the dar today, after our weekly meeting, there was a group of them getting together with our director because some of them are language partners. I was talking to the head guy on my floor like normal, but he kinda glared at me and said "where are you all the time? You don't like taking part in our dorm life?" I was caught off guard, and started to explain myself. I stay at the dar until around 7 or 8, then I come back for dinner, if I haven't missed it. I tried to tell him that I preferred to do my homework there because it's quiet, but then he said "I haven't seen you in a while. You never eat dinner with us. Is there a problem?" Damn! I didn't want to tell him that it's too loud there, nor did I want to tell him that I want to study with all girls. I talked to one of the guys at an ice cream shop along the Corniche about it, and he said they told him the same thing a few weeks ago. He said not to worry about it.

I was only slightly annoyed until I came back after I finished dinner and walked up the stairs to my floor. Though it was only dimly lit, I could feel something wasn't right. I looked at the group of Egyptians sitting on the couch, avoiding my eye contact as I started to greet them like I always did when I came up to my floor. My smile faded when one, Sameh, asked me what was wrong with me. Um...nothing? Then he said "So, you like to spend all of your time away from the Medina (nickname for the dorm)?" I told him the same thing as I told Sabry. They are so gossipy and news travels fast here! I think it's time I started leaving my door open more, and maybe spending more time in the common room in the dorm, it wouldn't kill me and wouldn't make me seem so odd, or perhaps even rude. In the US, I wouldn't feel bad taking time for me after dinner, but I think I am taking too much and not being social enough. It's a big deal here to be social, and as much as I don't really want to watch soccer on tv, I don't have to. I'll meet halfway so no one gets their feelings hurt.

Today was also able to give a news report with full case endings.  It was so formal, pedantic, and pompous. I loved it! The other kids didn't do the homework, which I thought was odd, considering he said it before we left last time, as well as last week.

Speaking of which, I am a bit disappointed in the program. Some people are slacking off a lot, not doing homework, and opting to go have fun rather than study hard, the reason we're here. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE fun, but I also didn't expect to bring my American life with me to Egypt. I made a choice to sacrifice everything I enjoyed to do, eat, and experience, along with spending time with people I care deeply about for the sake of furthering my education and to help me build a stronger bridge between my culture and the one here. I made a commitment, and I owe it to everyone and everything I left at home for a whole year to make the most of it, culturally and academically for the time I'm away. There's a proper place for partying and fun here, surely, but it has taken a backseat for the first time in a long time. So has procrastination, which was my biggest challenge in the US. My priorities have been rearranged.

And that's perhaps one of the hard parts of being here. People finishing work in class, pretending they didn't understand the homework or that it was due on a given day, splitting up the novel into sections of 12 pages a week instead of the whole 80. I know that in the end though, I can't blame the program, nor can I blame people for their inclinations. I'm trying to focus on myself, on my goals, and on my own experiences, and my own expectations for myself. I'm doing well, and I am proud of my progress in only 4 short weeks. If I keep it up, at this rate, I won't even recognize myself linguistically in a year. Today, that doesn't seem like much, especially since my days fly by fast with classes, meetings, language partner outings, and homework.

I also and starting to recognize myself socially again. I'm once again the guy who gets along with everyone and everyone likes to hang around. My sense of humor is returning, and I'm starting to hang out with more of the guys when I'm not able to hang out with the girls. It took me a while to adapt, but little by little, I'm finding myself again, and it's becoming easier to get over homesickness, culture "clash", and a new life in a new language.

I'm taking steps to get over this hump in which everyone is finding themselves. I'm trying to get more sleep, and spending more time with my language partner so I can acclimate quicker to Egyptian culture. I ask a lot of questions. "Why do the drivers all honk at a red light? Are they really that impatient? How do they think that honking and making hand gestures is going to get the light to change?" He laughed and told me that there's a police officer at every corner where there's a stoplight, and they push a button to change the light. They are getting him to change the light! I laughed. One of my most annoying pet peeves has been given a cause. And why do they honk all the time when they are driving? Well, because they are alerting other drivers that they are behind them and passing, it's courteous. It's not like the States where we lay on the horn to communicate anger and passive aggressive retaliation. Some things, however, are just inexplicable, however.

I want to also share with you one of the most amazing experiences of my whole life. Last night, I was able to attend a class of Egyptians who are learning American English, thanks to a guy I met through my language partner, Mahmoud. Ahmed (yes, his name however is longer than others' I've met), asked me to speak and to answer student's questions about language and culture. Pretty simple questions at first: What languages do you know? Besides the news, tv, and radio broadcasts, why did you learn French? Arabic? But then Ahmad brought up political issues. I was all to happy to help set the record straight. I explained that as far as the Arab-Israeli conflict goes, most Americans are uneducated about the topic, or they do not support it. I rhetorically asked them if they thought a human being would support the blockade of 1.5 million people in a 25 mile strip of land, with constant electrical outages, food shortages, and total isolation from the outside world for the sake of another country's security? I told them that I was horrified when I heard about the fleet of aid ships to the Gaza Strip that was attacked my the Israeli Army a few weeks ago, in which food and aid volunteers where killed all in the name of security. They had no weapons, just food and badly needed supplies. They understood. I felt at that moment a chill run up my spine; we all had just become human.  I was not a white, rich, ignorant American, and they were not judgmental Egyptians. I connected on a human level and it was a powerful feeling.

  I also told them about the awful folly with Bush was not in fact the fault of most of the American people. I explained that only about half of the US population turned out for the elections, and in those elections, only a slight majority of the 50% voted for Bush. He was elected because of a 25-30% of US votes, in effect. I compared it to the low turnout in Egyptian elections, around 23% in the last election. They understood. I made sure that they understood that American's are normal people, just like them.

 I also defended our government. I was asked about what I thought about Obama's visit to Cairo last year and his promise to fix the Palestinian-Israeli conflict. I explained that the economic crisis took precedent because of the mess it created at home economically and socially, and how that of course takes precedent over others' problems. I also said "It also depends on the Israeli government's cooperation, otherwise it doesn't matter what the US government says or tries to do. We do not control the Israeli government like many in the Middle East think. They are not America's mouthpiece. If that were so, the issue would not exist today." Again, I made sure I got head nods.

They were very intimidated with my presence because they were all so nervous. But being me, I made sure to break the ice. I showed them that Michigan is shaped like a hand, and showed them the Yooper accent. They found it amusing. I did a southern Michigan accent, one from New York, Southern California, and of course, the South. They hadn't any idea that there were so many differences. I talked about politics in general, the divisions between the conservative south and the generally liberal north and the history of that from the Civil War. One girl laughed. She said "there's so much information, I had no idea that America was so complicated!"

I smiled and nodded.

Another asked me if I knew anything about Islam and it's history. My language partner broke in and told them my background, even going beyond what I felt I had told him. They were impressed. They asked why I wanted to study Arabic, and some here don't even know why:

-When I was in 9th grade, I walked into my economics class to see the world trade center burning. I was afraid and the first thing that came out of my mouth, I remember, was "why would someone do this?" From then on, I knew that I wanted to study the Middle East, and the only way I was going to come close to understanding the complexities of the culture, religion, and daily life was through Arabic. That day, like many Americans, left a scar on my conscience. I had a partial responsibility, not just to myself, but to humanity to bridge the gap of misunderstanding. Islam is not the problem; intolerance, desperation, and powerlessness is. This is my life mission, and it is my goal here in Egypt. This is why I am here. The language, for language is the gateway to all the questions and resources I need to make a small, humble difference in my world.

Great things come in small packages; sometimes they can even be found in a 10x10 box with 15 souls.