Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Flight Into the Unknown

JFK Airport, New York, USA

“And the flight’s still leaving as scheduled?” I asked the man at the check-in counter.
“Yes, the weather’s good, and expected to stay clear for a few more hours,” he replied.
“I’m not so worried about this end of the trip, but about the Cairo end,” I said. He looked confused. “There’ve been protests in the streets there for a couple of days now.”
“Really? What are they protesting for?”
I have to say, I was taken aback. This is an Egyptair employee, and he doesn’t know about the brewing revolution in Egypt? “It’s kind of like Tunisia,” I said. “They’re trying to drive out the president of 30 years, that kind of thing….”
“Oh,” he said, very casually. “We do that all the time in my country. I’m from Pakistan. As they say, insha’allah it will all be okay.” And that was that. I didn’t know whether to be flabbergasted or reassured!

When I arrived at the appropriate gate, I was sure I was in the right place when I saw the distinctively embroidered skullcap of a Coptic monk along the bank of windows. I’d gotten to the airport quite early, worried that the snow would delay my shuttle, so I had over an hour left till boarding.

As I waited, I called my parents. Mom asked about the weather at the airport, and whether flights seemed to be leaving on time. “I don’t know if you’ve been watching the news,” I said, “but I’m kind of more worried about what I’ll find when I land in Cairo.” In fact, she hadn’t heard the news, and they’d had nothing to talk about for days except Obama’s State of the Union address anyway. She’d heard something about the self-immolations that happened in Egypt last week, but hadn’t understood their significance. Apparently NPR hadn’t commented much on why the Tunisian man who sparked a revolution had been motivated to burn himself alive, so she didn’t understand its correlation to Egyptians burning themselves alive. She hadn’t heard anything about demonstrations and riots in Egypt.

Dad came on the phone, and he knew a little more. His brother and aunt had emailed him to ask if I was okay in Egypt … but since I wasn’t in Egypt, I guess he hadn’t given it too much thought. I’m actually sort of sorry that my great-aunt is so tuned into the news. When I was in Jordan the first time, she used to email me regularly, and between every line of her emails was clear fear for my safety. After about a year, she seemed to have realized how safe Jordan is, and her emails lost their concerned edge. Now, though, she has a reason for concern.

I’m a little worried. My roommate heard yesterday that the airport road had been blocked, perhaps because that’s where the secret police have their headquarters. I know that the heaviest protesting has been going on within a 10-block radius of my apartment in pretty much every direction. Several of my CASA friends have reported encounters with teargas on Facebook, but it’s unclear whether these were chance encounters, or because they went out in the streets to either observe or participate in the protests. On the other hand, we’re on a fellowship from the US government, studying at American University, and registered at the US embassy in Cairo, so if things were really bad, they’d be evacuating my classmates. Instead I’ve gotten just one very generic email from the embassy suggesting that I “avoid places where people gather,” and one from American University saying essentially “we’ll let you know if you should be worried.” Until that email comes, I’ll try not to be.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Defining "Friend"

Harleyville, Penna., USA
(near Philadelphia)

I was reminded this weekend of a conversation we had in our pre-semester Arabic class in Tubingen, Germany, years back, about the definition of the word "friend." He was speaking about how his American students misuse the German word “Freund” as if it were equivalent to “friend” in English. A friend in German, he explained, is someone you might not talk to for years at a time, even decades, and then you call him up and tell him you’re moving to a new apartment, and he drops everything to come and help you pack. It was similar to a perennial complaint I hear from European exchange students who say, “In America, everyone you meet says they’re your friend, and no one means it!”

But it turns out that I have a lot of friends in the German sense of the word. When I posted on Facebook that I had gotten these interviews, I immediately got a slew of invitations from friends to stay at their places while interviewing in their cities. In the last 3 weeks I’ve gotten together with more than a dozen people that I haven’t seen in 7 years or more. In many cases, we’d barely even been in contact over those years, but they’d been following my exploits, and were ready to welcome me right back into their lives.

Philly Teaching Fellows
I wish I could say I was impressed. I'm no expert, but this was my fourth interviewing event, and I've done a fair amount of recruiting and training of teachers, so I feel that I have a leg to stand on. I was very disappointed in the quality of the applicants in Philly. And they only interview 50% of applicants, while the other programs all say they interview 75% of their applicants. what does that say about the quality of applicants to Philly? Sad for the kids of the Philly schools.

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Gwen's Wee Bairn

York, Penna., USA

Tomorrow I'm leaving my cousin Gwen's in Pennsylvania. By the time I'm back in America, she'll be in a new house in Massachusetts, and I'll officially have no family in Pennsylvania anymore. It's a strange thing to contemplate. I grew up there, even if I never felt like I belonged there. I still have friends there: Philip, Phredd and Nicole B. for a start. I have a million memories there. But I no longer have family there.

Meanwhile, though, I am looking forward to visiting my first-cousin-once-removed Seamus again soon. Isn't he adorable?
From America In January

Saturday, January 15, 2011

Country Roads

Maryland, USA

There's a new Brad Paisley hit on country radio that I heard several times over the last two days driving from York to Washington, DC, and back again. It starts
You’re not supposed to say the word “cancer” in a song.
And tellin’ folks Jesus is the answer can rub ‘em wrong.
It ain’t hip to sing about tractors, trucks, little towns, and mama, yeah that might be true.
But this is country music and we do
This is one of the things I like about country music, and one of the reasons I listen to it when I'm Stateside. They sing about the simple things that are human and important to ordinary America. The things that are universal about humanity: raising kids, falling in love, worrying about your family, watching them die, trying to live up to your parents' hopes and aspirations.

I once heard ethnomusicologists on NPR talking about the popularity of Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers in Africa. They talked about country music being not so much for people who live in rural areas. It's more about the people who used to live in rural areas, or whose parents did, and who now have to live in the city and feel out of their element. In a way, that's what I appreciate about country music. Even though I never really considered southern York County to be home, the longer I'm away the more I can appreciate the advantages of that life, in rural America, rural Jordan, rural Switzerland and all around the world. And since I've been living in cities since then....

So, maybe it was the country music. Maybe it was the unexpected thrill I got out of driving, and how easy and orderly it seemed after riding around in Cairo taxi cabs for 6 months. Maybe it was connecting with old friends. Whatever it was, something made me decide to take the long way home from lunch with Elly, through Jarrettsville, Delta, Brogue and Red Lion.

Another Goucher Girl Interlude
It was also great to have lunch with Elly, another friend from my creative writing program in undergrad. Yet another friend I haven't seen since college, and it was so comfortable to sit over Persian food in Towson and chat.

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

A New Me

York, Penna., USA

I've really gone and done it now....

I chopped off almost all my hair today. Gwen took me to her hairdresser, and as Seamus pointed out, we made a big mess! A massive pile of chopped off hair drifted to the floor around me as we went for the shortest haircut I've ever had.
From America In January

Saturday, January 8, 2011

Make New Friends, But Keep the Old!

Baltimore, Maryland, USA

It has been such a great day today, despite this awful head cold I picked up by switching climates so drastically! First I had a great interview with the Baltimore City Teaching Residency. Then my sister picked me up for a sandwich and coffee, and we had a simply wonderful visit. It's been over a year since I've seen her, and she really looks good, and sounds even better! She also took me shopping and now, with half the interviews already done, I finally have a suit jacket that doesn't end at my elbows!

Then I went down into Baltimore to an amazing little pizza place called Joe Squared. Apparently it's where all the cool kids hang out in Baltimore ... or at least all my Goucher friends! I got to see Wade, who I haven't seen since April in Jordan, plus a bunch of other people I haven't seen since May in 2003 when we graduated! Shauna's now a published author. Dayo was home on break from her PhD program. Nicole's working at Hopkins now.

After Elly came over to say hello, Nicole turned to me. "How is it that I come here all the time, and I've never seen Elly  here, but you come just once from Egypt, and there she is?"
"That's because I invited her!" Unfortunately, I didn't really get a chance to talk to her. I was apparently still on Egypt time when I left my sister, and arrived at Joe Squared almost 45 minutes late to my own party! By the time I had eaten something, Elly had already left. Gotta see if I can catch her for lunch while I'm on this continent....

There's just too many people to see and too little time. I was lucky to get this many old friends in one place at one time!

Friday, January 7, 2011

20 Years of the ADA

Glen Burnie, Maryland, USA

This year is the 20th anniversary of the Americans with Disabilities Act, and today I have to salute that little piece of legislation, not just for what it's done for the disabled, but for the incidental benefits it's brought the rest of us.

You can really see the difference traveling from the Middle East to the US with a big suitcase on public transportation. In Egypt, I dragged that suitcase up and down stairs everywhere I went. In most American airports, train stations, and subway stops, there's a simple way to get around dragging your suitcase up the stairs: Look for the handicapped access signs, and they'll lead you straight to the elevators, escalators, ramps and other handicapped accessible features of almost any public space! Most modern buildings have elevator access, ramps at their main entrances, and other such assistance that can be as helpful for the suitcase-toting able bodied person as they are for the handicapped.

May I note, however, that we are by no means 100% on this score. There is no handicapped access at the 86th Street subway station where Kirsten lives in New York City.  Handicapped access on the Baltimore Light Rail is reserved only for the handicapped because of the complicated nature of the contraptions used to provide it. There are still places where more access could be beneficial. I just can't help but compare everything to Egypt, and feel really good about being back in America!

It's also wonderful to see Candice today. Not snow nor swine flu nor the leaping boxers of Glen Burnie could keep us from meeting up this time!

Thursday, January 6, 2011

New York, That Paradise....

New York, NY, USA
I remember my first trip to New York City, years ago with my good friend Philip. He adores the city, and begged me to go with him. I have never been a fan of cities, but after living in Bern, Switzerland, as an exchange student for a year, I thought I could conquer anything. And I remember quite clearly what I thought of New York City: It's dirty, crowded, noisy and chaotic! I hated it, and I hadn't been to NYC since, so I was concerned as I was applying for the NYC Teaching Fellowship that I wouldn't be able to live in such a big, dirty, complicated place as New York City.

Imagine my surprise, then, to be walking the streets of New York City today and find myself marveling at how polite and respectful the people were, and how clean and orderly the streets were. I said this to my mother on the phone and she said, "But they say the trash collectors are on strike!" I know, I replied, I can see the mountains of plastic trash bags on every street corner, but the trash is in bags, and piled neatly, and not being ripped to shreds by cats.... The subway goes all over. The sidewalks aren't so cluttered with trees and dumpsters and vendors and piles of trash that you have to walk in the streets. When you cross the street, there are crosswalks and pedestrian lights and cars stop to let you use the marked crossings. When you walk into a store, you aren't accosted by a salesperson unless you ask for assistance. I could go on....

Culture Shock on the Subway
Every time I come back from the Middle East, I experience reverse culture shock in a different way. The first time I came home, in July 2005, I felt like all the women were walking around naked. The second time, in June 2006, I was still bargaining for the "volunteer teaching poor Arab children" price, and couldn't make eye contact with men. Last time, in February 2010, I simply couldn't believe that there was so much less free WiFi in "First World" American than there is in "Third World" Jordan! (I'm happy to report, that's no longer true ... free WiFi is as close as the nearest Starbucks now!) But I learn from each experience, and it never hits me quite the same way twice.

When I'm in the Middle East, I've become accustomed to looking at someone and being able to make a pretty educated guess about what language they speak by looking at their faces. Filipinas speak Tagalog and reasonably good English. White people generally speak English quite well, if not fluently, but perhaps with a European accent of some kind. Arabs speak Arabic, and maybe varying degrees of English. And so on. So when I look around the New York City subway, I expect the color of someone's skin and the shape of their face to tell me something about what language they speak, how good their English is, and what kind of accent they speak with. Much to my bewilderment, they all speak fluent English with a New York accent! What's with that??

Monday, January 3, 2011

Step Pyramids

Saqqara, Egypt
From Saqqara Pyramid Complex
We got up too late to do this yesterday, so it fell on Gwen's last day in Egypt to see the first Egyptian pyramid, the Step Pyramid at Saqqara. At first, the pharaoh had only built a mastaba like all the other nobles, but then he decided it should be grander, so he built three progressively smaller mastabas on top of that. That wasn't grand enough, so he enlarged those and added 3 more mastabas on top of that.

From Saqqara you can see other pyramids built later, but before the Great Pyramids at Giza. We're talking thousands of years of tradition here, culminating in the work of Cheops, his son and his grandson, and then never repeated after that. Tombs in the Valley of the Kings were supposed to be more secure, being less conspicuous. In point of fact, not actually true, but they tried their hardest to hide their treasures up there in Luxor!

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Coptic Cairo With Gwen

Cairo, Egypt
From Islamic and Coptic Cairo
The cumulative effects of the trip are starting to wear us down. Today we had a particularly lazy day, in which we spent less than 2 hours sightseeing! We went to the Hanging Church (to the right of the picture) and the Coptic Museum (leftmost in the picture) and came home again so Gwen could start packing and I could get some laundry done....

Saturday, January 1, 2011

3 Countries, 2 PCVs

Cairo, Egypt
From Islamic and Coptic Cairo
When we got home last night, I had a message waiting on Facebook from my old Peace Corps friend Andy, whom I also visited in Israel/Palestine. "Guess who's in Cairo?" he said, and he'd be leaving in the wee hours of the 2nd, so the window to catch him was very small. I sent him my phone number, and all morning today, in Islamic Cairo and Khan al-Khalili market, I kept thinking, "When's he gonna call?"

So Gwen and I were trying to get into a jewelry store, but there was this big American taking up all the space. We finally squeezed in behind him and his female companion, and were looking at jewelry when I thought I heard my name. Now, I often think I hear my name when Arabic is being spoken, but I turned around anyway ... and there was Noureen! Turns out the big American taking up space was none other than Andy!

So we went to Al-Fishawy Coffee House, a staple of every tourist guide to Islamic Cairo, for tea and coffee. Andy told Gwen the adorable story of how he and Noureen met. Gwen finally had an Arab woman cornered who was willing and happy to answer all her questions about having and raising children in the Arab world, with Andy and I taking turns translating. Noureen understands a lot of English, but she's not so comfortable speaking it yet. (I'm sure that will improve with time, just as Gwen has become so much more confident and fluent as a German speaker over the years of her marriage!) We were having such a good time together, that Gwen and I took them out for dinner, too!

In the evening, Gwen and I went to this really cool piano concert by an international group called 12 Pianists. Some of the numbers were pretty standard, for example, played on 4 pianos by 8 hands. Others were far more creative, with 2 pianos played by 6 hands, and even one number where all 12 pianists played the same piano at the same time! It was so cool, and such an unexpected delight in Cairo!