Long overdue - Oliver Twist, and Best Vacation Ever

Apologies to all who have been following my blog for not posting in a while. Well here is a catch up of the past…

My class’s production of Oliver Twist was on December 3rd, and was a culmination of almost of a month of practicing lines, songs, stage direction, and a healthy dose of yelling my head off at the children for completely taking advantage of me and not listening while on stage. Within it though, I had a great time putting on British accents, creating exciting stage direction, and teaching the kids some fun acting techniques. On the day of the production the kids were nervous and excited and as a whole, I was incredibly proud of them. Of course they forgot lines, and some were talking back stage, but those students who were strong actors were able to shine. It felt really good to hear compliments from parents like “we all talked about it, and decided that this was the best production that blue has ever done.” After the English play, I played drums with Samir (who played piano for Oliver) for the German play which is on the same day.

Then starting on the 4th there was a week vacation and Michaela came to visit from Dublin, and I can assuredly say that this was my best vacation yet. For me it was great because it was an absolute joy to play tour guide with something specially catered, and be able to show a side of me in my environment. Although we were only in Cairo for less than 48 hours, we were able to cram in a lot of things that gave a lively picture of the city. I’ll try to keep it short… but this is Egypt: by Chris Jospe

Day 1. Starting with a delectable lunch at the Ceramic Café across the street from me (where you can make ceramic objects at the restaurant – I am currently sipping Umbrian wine from a goblet we made..), to going to explore Khan Khalily (the area of old Islamic Cairo where there are lots of people trying to sell you things) via public transportation (tram, subway, microbus), to catching a smoggy sunset in Azhar park, to dinner at Sequoia with David, Fatem, and Rhonda (a restaurant on an Island on the tip of the Nile which has amazing sushi/shisha/a large inflatable slide), to a folklore/belly dancing show at the Ramses Hilton, where Michaela got pulled up to belly dance, and David got pulled up by the same people who had grabbed me at Azhar park!
The next day, we headed off to the Pyramids, which are always mind boggling of course. And after shoeing away the countless people who more than happy to take your money for any number of services, we settled on Aly and Charlie Brown (his camel) to take a trip up to see the pyramids from the perspective where you can see all 7 in a line. Down to the sphinx in the midst of tourists who come to the closest spot, take a picture, inspect the camera, and spend less than 10 seconds actually taking in the beauty of what they came to see. This is the definition of “checklist tourism” (or tourist checklism) – visiting a country to say that you have seen whatever the country is famous for, and on some level, missing the entire point. Then down to Giza, grabbed some shwarma and ta’mayya before meeting up with David for a sunset horse ride galumphing the other side of the pyramids. That night Michaela and I hopped on the overnight train, waking up deeper in Africa on the way to Aswan.
In Aswan, the first thing to do was to find a felucca captain willing to sail north, which we easily found for $30 a person, including two days, two nights on the felucca (a small sail boat), food, and transport to Luxor. I had a pretty fun time haggling with the people in the Souq, the old market, and we got some good fish and shisha by the sunset. The next day we took off on the ship with our captain, Youssef, and helper Ibrahim. We docked on some island, and as a whole, the day was just “intensely pleasant.” Relaxing and singing on the boat, shooting the breeze with Youssef, watching the Egrets, the Water Buffalo, the Goats, and the Africa dogs zig-zagging up the Nile. I got to sail for a good kilometer of the trip, which was good, but I think I’ll have to practice a bit more before I have my own ship… On the third morning, we were picked up by a bus with other tourists going north to Luxor with some temple stops. Kom Ombo temple was first, then Edfu temple. I remember both of these temples from the trip I took in January with Hany, and my family, and they were no less magnificent. Hieroglyphics everywhere, stories of battles and Gods engraved in time. In the afternoon we got into Luxor with time to walk around, meet some interesting people, and avoid those who are trying to get you to ride a carriage.
The next day was probably the most epic. After trying to sell us a number of different deals that we weren’t interested in, our hostel worker suggested the idea of renting a motor bike with a full tank of gas for 100 pounds for the day (less than 20$). So I haven’t exactly ever ridden a motorcycle before, but I felt I could pull it off… After stalling a couple times in the streets of Luxor, I figured out how to change gears, and we took off across the Nile to the west bank where there are temples and the valley of the kings (where all of the Pharaohs were buried). I would recommend doing this to absolutely anyone. Riding through Africa with Michaela behind me, we were able to go at our pace, waving at farmers on donkeys, soaking in the fields, avoiding the places where tour buses are destined to go, and explore Nubian towns, feel absolutely free. After seeing the tombs, we headed by to an alabaster shop – actually the same one I went to with my family in January. I wasn’t against buying things, but I told the guys outside that I was hungry, and asked if there were any good restaurants outside. After buying some glasses and a necklace for a solid haggle, the guy who sold it to us, Ahmed was ready to take us to a nearby restaurant that he knew. Except my battery had died! So here we went, Ahmed in his Galibayya, me, and Michaela, all riding his motor bike to a restaurant that is not used to seeing westerners. The food was dank, and then Ahmed took us back, and by pushing the bike down the hill we were able to get it sparked, he gave me some gas because I was running low, and we took back off towards Luxor in the late afternoon. About 4 km south of Luxor, my bike started to sputter with the out of gas type of sound, and coincidentally ran out of gas right at a coffee shop. Two cokes and apple shisha’s later, and some guys graciously going on a gas run for me we finally made it back to Luxor.
The last day in Luxor we went and explored Karnak temple. I am pretty sure that this is the biggest temple in the world. There are so many monuments in it, it is cluttered with hieroglyphiced pillars, statues, obelisks, large walls and stories of gods everywhere. My favorite things about it are the worlds oldest peace treaty on one of the southern walls, the big hall with all the pillars, and the Obelisk (the other one is in place de concorde in Paris). Our day ended perfectly, chilled on a felucca with a captain who works only 10 days a month and spends the rest in the army, we left the Cornish after hearing “goodbye Miss Lucky” from a small shop where we had bought water (everywhere in Luxor I heard “you are a lucky man” – a standard thing to say to a guy with a girl, but very true!), caught a carriage to our hotel, and then the train station for a third of the price others were asking, bought some Egyptian sweets, and woke up in Cairo. Last day with time to visit Coptic Cairo, explore downtown, a favorite gallery of mine (townhouse), and make dinner before Michaela’s flight back.

Black and White Desert

The trip to the black and white desert was an incredible 36 hour escape from Cairo. After taking a 4 hour bus ride to Baharriya, the oasis which is the jumping off point for visiting this desert, we (a solidly international group with representation from Norway, Sweden, Egypt, India, Pakistan, and America) took off with two four wheel drives into the desert. Driving from one of the largest cities into this vast expanse of nothingness but sand and more sand is a shock in itself, and it was so calming not to hear the constant honking and mayhem that comes along with Cairo. We puttered around with the cars, stopping at one point to climb “crystal mountain” in the black desert, which afforded views of absolutely no civilization other than a road, and lots of sand. This was the first time that I could really feel the silence, which was almost painful. The drivers were a bit crazy too, and at one point, they tore off the road and were driving on the sand, drifting around in it just like snow. By evening, we arrived to a part of the white desert just in time to catch the sunset. I have never been in a place where I truly felt like I was on another planet. The rocks were chalk white, and between their animal-like formations and large shadows cast over the desert, it was a surreal experience. The guys who took us into the desert then cooked us dinner, and it was so cool to sleep under the stars, which we shining extraordinarily bright – especially because there was no moon. It’s really hard to describe this place with words, pictures can do better.

Pictures coming soon.. check my facebook album for now..

Azhar Park

This is a beautiful park on a hill above Cairo. It is actually the biggest park in Cairo, but smaller than most of the parks that I am used to in Rochester we walked our dogs. It affords views of a number of mosques, the skyline of Cairo, the cliffs of Moqatam (where they carved a lot of the stone for the pyramids) and on a clear day, like yesterday, we could actually see the Pyramids.

On our way out, I had a hilarious thing happen to me. There was some folklore show going on right in front of the gate, and a bunch of Egyptians were crowded around it, so naturally we went and took a look. It was mix of dancing and comedy sketches about the time of the sultans in Egypt. All of a sudden, the MC came over to me when he noticed that there were foreigners in the crowd (we were the only ones) and gave me a hearty kiss on the cheek. Then two minutes later, he dragged me out of my spot in the crowd into the show, and I found myself in the middle of a competition for his "daughter" adorned with a rifle, a robe, and a tall hat. This went on for a good ten minutes, and in the end, I made it out a live to a large applause and new fame, with a free papyrus from the group, with the name of the group (which was lead by Hassaan - the guy who kissed me), and a slogan that says "We want peace for Egypt and all of the world." Sweet.

The Muqatam Cliffs

Can you spot the pyramids? (to the right of the minaret)

Standing with the suitable bachelors..

This is the last two minutes of it...

sha3bee

Egyptians have a problem with pronouncing "p's" because it doesn't exist in the alphabet. So it's called "Bing-bong." Aywa, uhib bing bong. So far I have met a bunch of Egyptian dudes in different groups, either through David, or through people at school, who from there invite you to hang out with their group of friends. For the most part, they are incredibly generous, like not letting me pay for a thing, giving me a bed to crash, or driving me home so I don't have to take a cab. It is part of their culture to be hospitable, and they are enthralled to have a western friend, or one from America. These days they all want to know about Obama, and are happy that he has Muslim blood in him and are optimistic about the renewal of America's image. Probably the biggest difference in how we hang out is the complete lack of females and alcohol in where we are. To be fair, these guys are not part of the crust of the rich baller Egyptians who are going to nightclubs or parties on Nile boats, but part of the "shah'bee" culture - which means folk,  or popular - where the norm is to play ping-pong, and go to cafe's to smoke shisha and play backgammon and dominoes day in day out. 

Keeping the funk

Part of me has to keep the music going in some way or another. Once a term, each class has to put on a presentation during the assembly that is once every other week. Since I am currently directing and practicing Oliver Twist with my class, I decided to have them, do a couple of Oliver Twist songs. "Oliver Twist, with a Twist." Enjoy the rap, and the dirty beat I drop to "Consider yourself."

I've also found ways to get to see some live music. I went to see a Mohamed Mounir concert a couple weekends back. He is one of the most famous Egyptian singers, very genuine Egyptian, and loved and known by all. One of the teachers at school had extra tickets, so I took one. Although the teachers who originally were going to take me couldn't go, I went anyway, by myself. It was in the middle of the desert on the GUC (German University in Cairo) campus, and I had no way to get back. I found myself swept up thick into the middle of the crowd with a bunch of Libyans who had driven 14 hours to get there, enunciating the song lyrics in my ear, and exhaulted by the fact that I was rocking out with them. I ended up getting connected with a brother of one of the teacher's who was there, and drove around with him and his friends until 3 in the morning, playing ping pong, eating dank food, and learning effective and useful curse words.

This week it is Cairo jazz festival. The opening night was in Manial Palace, and I went with David and an Egyptian friend because there was some Norwegian group playing. It was a really cool outdoor concert behind a grove of palm trees. It was put on by a number of European embassies as an effort to bridge cultures by performing in a language that everyone can understand. This one cuban band brought on a bunch of Nubian drummers at one point, and amongst the high-rolling diplomats, palm-trees, and afro-cuban fused with Nubian rhythms, the point seemed to be made.

It turns out that today, the school is having a field trip to another show that is part of the Jazz festival, at another palace on an island in the Nile. Who knows if the kids will appreciate it, but I will.

walks

Every Saturday, I try to find a new place to explore in Cairo. Now that I have a camera, I can take a lot more pictures.

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In the Coptic section of Cairo. St. George slaying a dragon. 

From the Catholic cemetary

My Subway stop. Helmiyat el Zeitun

A Roman tower built in 200AD ish. The Nile used to sweep up against this tower.

This bike is leaning against a Mosque that was built in the 14th century. 

This is taken from a park in Cairo (one of the few). I really enjoyed watching these pigeons take off and fly circles around a mosque, among the dissonance of prayers, traffic sounds, and arabic music coming from the nearby cafe.

Me.

back to "normalcy"

Since Italy, life has gotten back to “normal.” I am definitely earning my keep doing this teaching business though. I leave at 6:30, get back at 4, and am usually putting in a good three hours of prep a night. It is exhausting; as a teacher you get no second chances, lots of the time I have no idea whether what I am going to do is going to work, and my class’ behavior depends on the day, not on how many grueling hours I put in the night before lesson planning. I still enjoy coming to work though.

The school gives a lot of emphasis to teachers being doing things outside of the class room, which demands more, but at least gives good variety. This week I was running a football match during the second break between primary six houses (there are four), but I made the mistake today of forgetting about the final today between the Green Pharaohs, and the Blue Vikings. I was ten minutes late, and even though I let them play extra and be late to class, everything is always unfair for this age, there was one boy in tears, and they wanted my head. There are a number of field trips that classes take (all the other classes have taken one, so I think I will get one soon), and there are a bunch of optional socially conscious trips in the near future which I will definitely go on –the politically tame ones of course, like fighting against poverty, or a food drive for charity. It should be another good way to see Egypt. We also have clubs once every other week, and I am in charge of “drumming club.” Today was our first day (because we didn’t start clubs until after Ramadan), and after talking about rhythm with the 8 kids who signed up and teaching them a couple of rhythms on the tambourines the school has, I got to rock the school’s drum set much to the kids’ (and even more so my) enjoyment. I can’t explain how good it felt, it spoke to a part of my soul that will always be soothed by playing music. Gravitating towards the things you love also just sort of makes things work out, because after speaking with the school music teacher, I found out that there is a demand at her music school for an English speaking drum teacher. So I found myself a new job for the weekends, and a new exposure to Egyptian life.



I still get time to go horseback riding, at least once every full moon. The flame from the bedouin pitstop where you can get pepsi, cigarettes and tea, the glow from Cairo, and the full moon add to the surrealness of it all. To the left imagine three pyramids lit up in green and purple by the nightly "sound and light show"

La vita e bella

So my first vacation (and round trip ticket in a while, up to now there has been Rochester -> Boston, New York -> London, London -> Geneva, Geneva -> Cairo) took from Cairo on the red eye land landed me bright and early in Roma Fumacino for an unforgettable week with my family. It was four days in the Italian countryside in Umbria in a house which my dad had rented, and two days in Rome. Michaela, who I hadn’t seen since June and is now working in Dublin, was able to find cheap flights to Perugia. I also found out a week before that I got an extra day of vacation, because eid el-fetr, which was the holiday to celebrate the end of Ramadan depended on the lunar schedule on when to start, and the flight was easily changeable. It was one of those vacations that was almost too good to be true, and I had to keep pinching myself to know that I really had escaped the smog and squalor of Cairo. It really took a parents meeting, and a sleepless night of preparation for talking about children and lesson planning to bring me back to earth.

In Umbria, as a family plus two “appendages” we spent lots of time walking through old medieval Italian towns and villages, exploring large churches, making amazing dinners with the fresh food from the market and pluckable herbs from the garden, biking, walking, sampling cheese, salami and wine, and having many gelatos. It was a breath of fresh air, and walking through the charming towns of antiquity.
On a walk up from the house to the town of Aqualoreto, Michaela and I bumped into the same lady that I had seen with my family on our bike ride when we got off to explore the town on foot the day before. She greeted us in Italian with the same question as yesterday. “Are you Christian?” Yes. “Catholic?” Well, she is. She then went on to talk about a bunch of things that I couldn’t really understand, although very enthusiastic about talking. At least I found out that her name is Ada and she is 90 years old, and it’s Ok if you are protestant because you still believe in God and you will still go to heaven. Like the day before, she gave us a benediction, but this day she wished us “Siempre amore como oggi.”
Rome was equally amazing, but in a different way. It was so cool to see all of these old ruins, and try to imagine what they looked like 2000 years ago. It was also nice that our hotel was located with a view of the Colosseum about 300 yards away. It isn’t every day that you get a text from your dad saying “meet for lunch at the Pantheon.” It was also nice because my grandfather, uncle and aunt, all came from London to come celebrate my Uncle’s birthday with us in Rome. They were all doing really well, and I am all about family reunions.
Some more highlights include:
Dancing in the square of Saint Peter to Mambo Italiano on the iPod, and then watching Roger do the same dance.
Lying down like Romans on the Colosseum and feeding grapes to ourselves that we had bought on the way there to the laughter and jealousy of tourists who wished they had come up with such a brilliant idea.
Walking through Rome at 2 in the morning and enjoyably getting lost in the heart of it, and then finding our way to some outlook where you could see the Colosseum, the forum, and many old churches, all illuminated.

All told, I am incredible appreciative when the order of the universe works out like that.

Things to know about Cairo

Egypt is a paradox. In the words of a colleague, it is "hypothetically Islamic," meaning that it is important to appear Islamic, and go through the motions of being Islamic, but that is because everyone else is Islamic, and you do not want to lose face. In other words, one does not do something because it is Haram (which means absolutely forbidden by the Koran), but because one does not want to be seen doing it. Behind closed doors, it is fine for all Egyptians to drink and have sex with unmarried people, but this is not talked about.

On to more superficially obvious things...

-In the sha'(g)bee (popular/middle class/egyptian) parts of town, everything you could ever want is in a specific shop on the street. If you live above one of these shops or markets, a the best way of getting things you want is by letting down a bucket attached to a string, with some money in it and a list, and then pulling it right back up.
-For the upper class, there are malls. I went to one mall, called city stars, seven stories, more western and opulent than the west actually is, had absolutely everything that you could imagine, I wish I had taken my camera.
-There are a few traffic lights, but they are meaningless and should be disregarded. Intersections can have four scenarios.
  1) they are directed by a traffic cop
  2) there is no traffic cop and it is honking-match grid-lock
  3) the big vehicles and the cars moving in the flow win and you wait your turn
  4) you honk your horn and go (most common in the back streets)
-There is an abundance of police officers doing nothing.
-Smoking Hashish is more morally and socially acceptable than drinking beer. This is because the Prophet Mohammed explicitly condemned beer more times in the Koran than he did hash.
-It’s not gay to walk elbow to elbow. Lots of men do this, it’s how Cairene men walk.
-It’s been cool to litter for 5000 years. Poor people will go through the trash on the street. There are some trash disposals, but waste just sits on the street everywhere.
-When there isn’t a price on something that means that you are supposed to bargain for it. In certain scenarios an accepted Egyptian/Non-Egyptian price for things. This can also be true in certain restaurants where the non-Egyptian menu prices are standard, and you have to fight to pay what the guy next to you is paying.
-There is a beer delivery service. This is because there is no way to buy beer otherwise during Ramadan. After Ramadan these places open up, as do the bars.
-Egyptian kids love saying “What’s your name?” “Welcome to Egypt” and “How are you” to you if you are white.
-The society is class based and will stay that way. In different parts of the city, there can many self-contained areas of the wealthy or the poor.
-Lots of men have a “raison” on their head, or a mark. This means that they pray a lot.
-Most women are veiled. This means that you do not touch.
-There is no drainage system for water because it never rains. Even so, when there is water on the street it just festers for days.

Breaking fast with the orphans

Yesterday we had iftar after school. The way Islam works is that by doing good deeds, you can get points that basically you can cash in when you die that help your case in going to heaven (thawab). So, we invited a number of orphans to the school to break fast with us, and all of the children stayed after school. It was nice to see the school in a different light, playing, gossiping, getting to know me outside of the classroom. It felt much more like camp in a way, because they are all free to do what they want. Basically all I had to do was throw a soccer ball on the main lawn, and they were content to play for a while – which is good because everyone gets really irritable since they have not been allowed to eat since 4 AM. Of course I had my PE whistle with me, which came to good use when needed.

Once the orphans came it was a bit strange, and the kids didn’t really want to mix with them, but it was also difficult because they were all six year olds. Soccer didn’t really work, and they all got distracted. We played duck-duck-goose instead. It's also funny to think of how activities are completely dependent on when the call to prayer is, which is when we were allowed to eat.

On a side note, I have weekly homework to use the spelling words assigned for week in a sentence. Some funny ones. “Lots of people think that Arabs are terrorists, while actually they are not.” “2008 is Juhayna’s (a milk juice company) 25th anniversary.” “I am completely scornful at Michael Jackson after his last operation.”

After the orphans got bored, and my Arabic wasn't good enough to keep them all engaged. Mr. Nasser, the other gym teacher. 

Cairo Sights

Ok so I took these pictures when I was here in January, but having lost my battery charger in Switzerland and with a cracked camera screen, I think it's fair to put them up to give a sense of the city. Going back through these pictures brings to mind an Egyptian Proverb in a book I just finished .. "He who tastes the sweetness the Nile is destined to drink it again."

The citadel. One of the highest points in Cairo. You can see the Pyramids from here on a clear day.

Another view of it. 

Downtown Cairo, from the citadel.

Busy street corner

"The Cairo Push"

Metro stop near the coptic part of town. 

This is in the other part of town for me, but still in Cairo.

Cheops, the biggest one. 

Camels, cars, pyramids... all standard sights in Giza.

One of the Nile tributaries. 

Horses in the night

Last night I definitely had one of those moments that makes you appreciate life.

Me, David, and some others caught a cab during Iftar to some stable by the Pyramids (so the normally 2 hour ride took 30 minutes), and rented some horses. The sun had just set, and with the pyramids to the right, we trotted off through a small part of Giza, into the desert. Shortly after passing a cemetery, and a stinky area of makeshift garbage dump, we hit the sand dunes. Basically, it was just open track, and the horses were able to take off, going upwards. Clicking the horse along at walks, trots and canters up passed the Pyramids (about a mile away, but seeming so close) - which were being lit yellow, red and green by the nightly light show that tells a story of the pyramids (I saw this in January), we made it up to a beduin hut, beckoned by his fire. This dude basically hangs out at this spot in the desert and provides warm tea and cigarettes to those coming up on the horses. But it is a welcoming feeling to be standing in the desert at this man's hut.

The moment of clarity came while we were returning, when me and David stopped, gazed at the pyramids, and then took off in a gallop back towards Cairo. Both of us shrieking Yella Yella! to which the horses respond well. The sand was lit by the full moon and the glow of Cairo, and with the pyramids now on the left and the expansive city of Cairo right in front, I felt like Laurence of Arabia, swooping down on some Arab village. All you could hear was the thump of the hooves on the sand, the bounce in the saddle, and the dissonance of prayer and traffic which became much louder as we got closer to Giza. All said and done, the cab ride there was 5$, and the horse rental for an hour and a half was 7$.

Yella!!

David

Ramadan from a infidel perspective

Ramadan, which is the holy month in the Muslim world based on the ninth lunar cycle, is meant to mark the time when the Qu’ran was revealed to the prophet Mohammed. It is a transforming time in Cairo, and seems to captivate this city of 18 million in ways that nothing else in the world can. I am in no way qualified to explain it, but here are some of my understandings and observations.

If you are Muslim, you aren’t allowed to eat, drink, smoke, or have sex until after the evening prayer which happens around 6:20 (each day it becomes a minute less) unless you are elderly, sick, or pregnant. This breaking of the fast is called Iftar, and it must be done communally, usually with families, but many charitable groups and restaurants put out large tables with free food for the poor or for those who aren’t able to get to their families in time. Ironically, this is called “breakfast.” During this time the main streets of Cairo which usually are a jungle, are about a tenth as crowded, and side streets are completely dead. So for the non-Muslims, this is the ideal time to get somewhere in the city. If you want to be like the prophet Mohammed, you eat dates and drink milk, which some taxi driver shared with me and David when we caught a taxi at Iftar, but the typical meal is soup and rice with some ful (beans) and maybe some lahma (meat). Once the sun comes up, you aren’t allowed to eat again, so the last time people eat is call the suhur, at around 4 in the morning to be finished by the time of the morning prayer at 5 AM.

The whole idea is to think pure thoughts, be extra charitable, and to work on being a good person. Although that is the purpose, it is evidently taxing on some of the other teachers. One of the new foreign teachers of grade 4, Javier – from the States and Puerto Rico, is constantly grumpy and stressed because he sleeps only 3 hours a night (because he has to hang out with his Fiancée’s family until midnight), not to mention he has never taught before… Pretty much all of my students (10 and 11 years old) are fasting for the first time, and at school that means shorter classes – we end at 1:30 so the bus drivers can get home, and more breaks during PE class. I don’t eat at school anyways, (or I will discreetly snake at my desk in my staff room) mostly out of respect – except for this one time when I was on break duty (which is when the younger students can buy food from the canteen), and this one third grade bought a frosted carrot cake, which he couldn’t finish in time and of course couldn’t bring into the class room. I was starving so I did him a favor and ate it. The whole no alcohol rule is big too. Although it is hardly followed by all Muslims, during Ramadan, it is extra bad if you drink, so for the most part, all of the bars and nightclubs are closed.


I saw this on a walk I took today. Gotta love Chilis..

More about school

The mornings now start with all of the primary students standing out on the front lawn to a quick message from the supervisor Ms. Inji. I am on the far end because I have the oldest children. Then, we do a warm up to music, which is actually hilarious because none of the older kids do it. It includes jumping up and down and a lot of bouncing stretches to the count of 8. We then salute the flag and sing the national anthem and then head inside for “circle time.” Every class begins with me saying “good morning class,” and the whole class responding “Good morning Mister Christophe.” (Whenever someone has something to say, it is either “Mister, Mister!” or “Mister Christophe!”) Then I will go on to say the morning message which always is an inspiring quote that I write up the night before. Today’s was “a truly happy person is the person who can enjoy the scenery on a detour.” Uncoincidentally, I got a phone call at 6 AM this morning saying that the staff bus that would come to pick me up at the normal time would not be coming, reasons unknown. I rode in with the children’s bus on a different route.

In more ways than I think I can appreciate, working at the summer camp prepared me for working with children at this age. Between knowing when to be more strict with them, to learning patience with them, to being able to gauge attention span and intellect, I find myself very comfortable with these eleven and ten year olds. Much more than I would like though, much of what I do is thought up in the classroom, on the fly, seeing right then and there what will work - and what wont, with a basic structure in mind. Much of this whole teaching business is charting new territories in what I have ever had to do before. Planning lessons is a pain in the ass, but really necessary. I still try to make things fun and structured within the general guide that is provided for me. So far we have just been reading stories, and discussing them, which is easy enough to plan, but I am still at the point where I am planning the class the night before. Slowly, teaching tricks are being added to my arsenal, but it is slow.

As the gym teacher, I decided to take a class to teach them dodgeball. This went over really badly. They all cheated and did not stay in the court. Some of them refused to go to jail. Then when I was looking the other way, one of them threw a ball. No sooner had I turned around but the ball made direct contact to my nose. I tried had to remain under the impression that it was an accident. For the most part though, they enjoy gym, and they enjoy my coaching. And there is always the good challenge of making sure the fat and uncoordinated kids are not all on the same team.

My Classroom. Note the orange octopus with bubbles coming from his mouth. "Mr. Christophe Jospe. Primary Six Blue"

Bulletin Board.

View from the other side.

Literally across the street from the school. Without technology my school would most definitely be in a desert. 

Standing in the same spot, back at the school. 

The GVS

So I had my first day school with the students yesterday.

I work at GVS as a Sixth Grade English and PE teacher (School Website - http://www.gvschool.net/) I am the class teacher for primary six blue, which means that I get to know them a little bit better, and have them for something called circle time - which is basically homeroom. I teach them and primary six yellow English and PE. So far it is still early in the year and it is hard to give real impressions on how the school is, but I really like the way everything is structured. My supervisor, Inji, is incredibly helpful with everything, and seems to be everywhere at the same time, and knows everything. It also helps that the lesson plans are basically written out for me at least initially, so basically I follow a written plan. The day starts at 6:40 when I get picked up by a bus near my apartment, and I get to the school at around 7:30. The drive to the school goes out of Heliopolis, passed the airport, and out of Cairo. The school is basically in the desert, in one of the rich suburbs that is moving out of the city, so on the drive there is construction everywhere (we even pass a mall that is in the process of being built). There are seven periods a day, and since it is Ramadan, there is a special schedule so the school can end at 7:30.

I like my class, there seem to be a lot of characters in it, but of course it has only been one day, and I have been warned by the teacher who had them last year that there was a group in the class who referred to themselves as "the mischievous 8." Although, between being from New York and being a male, I think I have been able to win their respect. (there are about 10 male staff, and 4 foreign teachers in the whole school - staff around 60). That, and I will also be their PE teacher, so I am pretty sure that all of the guys will like me. Although I will definitely have to get used to treating the children differently than I did as a camp counselor, I hope that my patience with the kids will work out. For PE we are downstairs in some gym, and the old gym teacher showed me some kind of dodgeball that they can play on the first day. He then left, and then I tried to play some kind of tag with them which the boys enjoyed, but was a cultural mistake. I tried to have them play a sort of partner tag - where two people are linking arms, and one person is "it" and another is trying to stay away - once the person being chased links up to one groups arms, the person on the other side has to leave. This was fine and well, except the girls weren't playing, and the boys refused to touch their arms. When I said "come on guys, the girls wont bite," one of the boys responded, "No, but in Egypt we aren't allowed to touch the girls." Have joking, perhaps thinking that the girls had cooties, half cultural truth..

Front view of the school.

Down the street where we get dropped off by the bus. 

The bus that picks me up every day. Back ground of El Obour city.

My turf

So now I am moved in to the part of town in Cairo that is called Heliopolis. It is perfect for my situation, because it is the closest part of Cairo to the Green Valley School, which is in a suburb that is basically in the desert with not much other than residential life. I found a roommate pretty randomly, but quite easily. He is Norwegian and will be studying intensive Arabic at the AUC (American University in Cairo). This is good because it means that I will be able to practice Arabic with him, and he is also like me in a lot of ways. Especially in his enjoyment and interest for genuine parts of a country, large group of friends, shamelessness in speaking Arabic, and insistence on finding cheap street meat. 

This is a quieter part of town, but it still has elements that seem to be throughout Cairo. Cats everywhere, like everywhere. Lots of trash on the street and sidewalk. Crossing the street is like playing the computer game frogger. Basically, you can't cross all in one go. You need to advance a little bit once there is space in the first lane, let the traffic pass, and then make it to the other side inshallah (Arabic for God Willing). There is still lots of honking, but in our neighborhood, it is quieter, and there are plenty of trees. Some old buildings, lots of unfinished buildings, lots of shops everywhere. You can turn street corners and see old men smoking shisha playing backgammon, and then turn another street corner to find markets of all types - meat, fruit and vegetables, bakeries, general stores, cameras, appliance shops, pharmacies, wicker chairs, barbershops, restaurants, everything. 

Now it is Ramadan, so people have been fasting all day, and that means that at around 6 o clock once iftah happens, which is when they can break fast, everyone comes out after about a 15 minute citywide lull. It is incredible, everyone fasts, so during this time the traffic diminishes about 95%. Even the Christians fast out of respect - or at least aren't visible during this time. It also means that at night, the streets are packed with people, and everything is alive. I'm not sure if I can credit Ramadan for this vivacity or if it just happens all of the time, but either way, it is a true show of life here. 

Here you can see the nearest Square to me, Midan Ismaliya. In the middle of the street you can see the tram tracks, and the trams are ridable for .05$. 

 This is my street, Qambis street. My apartment is basically behind the right end of the tree on the left. 

This is the courtyard view from the stairwell in my apartment.

Another view from Qambis street going towards the square.

Engagement Party

I had the day off, and I decided that I needed two more days in my hostel to really figure shit out. In a way, leaving the hostel can be a stretch, because it is a breach of the false comfort zone that one has set up for oneself. Either way, I took off with the intention of finding an English book store and going to the Egyptian museum. I also happened to eavesdrop on an American couple’s conversation at reception in the Hostel about finding an apartment, and it turned out that they had a friend in Heliopolis (the town where I wanted to be) who was looking for a roommate. Without much further ado, I piped in and got the number of this friend, setting a time to meet between five and six, to meet and talk about the apartment. So basically I had time to kill.

I found the book store, almost by mistake, but found the book that I seem to have lost at camp, “Cairo the city Victorious.”

Popping my head into a bakery, this one random dude stopped me and said “are you looking for some real food?” Since I am one to talk to strangers, especially when I don’t know how to pass the day, I put my guard up and said, “Yeah, actually.” And this man went on to explain that he didn’t want to come off as too forward, but that he studied English with the hopes of being able to practice it as much as he could. His nickname was Ali, but his name was Wael. Strange, but normal enough. He took me to an authentic Egyptian lunch, where there was only one thing on the menu, watched me eat and told me his whole life story. His father was quite rich and owned a papyrus company, he wanted to go to the United States one day, and he loved helping people. He then went on to ask me if I was willing to buy alcohol for him. Ha. I knew there would be a catch. I wasn’t sure about this, but I wasn’t quite yet ready to ditch this interesting character. So I stalled him, and gave him neither a yes or no. He then went on to saying how he could help me find an apartment, assuring that he could. He took me into his shop, and interoduced me to some of his friends who turned out to be Peruvian. They assured me that this man was nice, literally knew everyone in town, crazy, but completely harmless. Either way, I had time to kill, he was paying, and he insisted that he could help me out in any way possible. It meant that I had to grab my passport, but once I did, he bought me a tea, and we waited for his friend. We made it to the Sheraton no problem, where you could buy alcohol at the duty free shop. He then took me back to his shop, and showed me some of the papyrus that his father makes. I ended up buying two for an absurdly low price. One for Rudi, and one for me, both which I put in a package that would be sent home. We continued talking, but by this time, I had my guard up enough against this old fellow. He told me that the alcohol was for an engagement party, and that I was more than invited. I thought about coming, but at this time though, I had my meeting with David, a potential flatmate in Heliopolis, which was a great meeting. David was Norwegian, had studied in Cairo before, speaks Arabic, and seemed to know his way around town. We talked for a good 30 minutes, and hit it off real well, but by that time I had to take off back to the engagement party.
The party turned out to be a real hit. I was the only whitey there, but that didn’t really matter. It was a genuine invitation to an event that most outsiders would have a difficult time getting invited to. I introduced myself to the important people (the parents and the engaged), after giving them my gift (some extra Swiss chocolate that I had bought), I sat on the chairs for a while, watching the party go on. People dancing to Arabic music. Lots of clapping. Then at one point, the grandmother pulled me up and started dancing with me. Before I knew it I was in the center of the circle, being demanded to perform. I did, and people enjoyed it, morre clapping. A couple of phone number changing and facebook promises later, I took off.

In sum, life seems to be working out from random encounters, and I have begun to experience the extreme niceness which Egyptians are capable of. It is day 3, I have been to an Egyptian engagement party, and I have a roommate who seems legit in the area where I want to be.

First Cairo Impressions

Now I am in Cairo, writing this from the 13th floor of the restaurant in my hostel in downtown Cairo, over looking tall apartment buildings, unfinished top floors, mosques jutting upwards, banks, one church, and buildings with Arabic writing going up it. The city is endless, and the smog makes it so you can see faint silhouettes of sky scrapers, but nothing more. It is hot, but there is a breeze coming through the window. There are a dissonance of sounds; Arabic prayer coming through a loud speaker, honks from the traffic below, the buzz of air conditioning.

I just finished my breakfast. Two pieces of bread, jam, butter, and tea. I treated myself to some extra chocolate that I bought in Switzerland though.

The trip from the airport to my hostel was supposed to be painless. In less than 20 minutes, I landed, bought a visa, changed some money, and grabbed my bags to find someone waiting for me with my name. This was the assistant to the lady who was helping me to find an apartment, chosen because it was much trustier than just a normal taxi. Instead, it turned into a mini disaster when the car broke down on the sixth of October bridge. This is the largest bridge in Cairo, and it stretches over a large number of slums in the city. Yes, the car broke down, and the three of us in the car were behind it, pushing it, trying to get it to start in the midst of honking and traffic. It started once, but that was a tease because 300 feet later, it broke down again. We ended up pushing it off of the bridge for a good half mile to a place where I could take a taxi with Ahmed, the younger guy who came along. We made it to the hostel just fine, and he helped me buy a cell phone. This was key, because without it I wouldn’t have found the bus to the school the next morning.

The next day, orientation at the school where I will be teaching until June started at around 9:30, after being picked up by the staff bus in a downtown square (Tahrir Square) at around 8. It was definitely overwhelming the first day; to meet a number of people, my bosses, see my classroom, begin to learn the rules of the school, and knowing that what you are learning is just the tip of the iceberg to all of the little things that go into being a foreign teacher. Fortunately, everyone at the school is very pleasant, and there are also at least two others in my position, so people have extended themselves to being very helpful.

I now have the next two days off, maybe three, depending on when Ramadan decides to begin. The first day of Ramadan is when the Crescent moon shows itself, so it could start on either Sunday or Monday. There is no way of knowing until Saturday night. Tomorrow I will look at apartments, and I have a large amount of material to read and prepare. The way I see it, this whole time in Cairo will be a mental test; challenging my threshold to the complete foreign and my resilience to it. In work, it will be doing the best job that I can.

I am sure that part of me is going through culture shock, but that has been the plan all along. I know that this will be tough, but my goals are still the same, to learn Arabic, make friends, to learn about myself, and to find meaning in the Middle East.

more about camp

Before I go on to what's happening now, there need to be a couple recaps from camp.
Ninja assassin needs a proper explanation.

Let me rewind first. A lot of credit to this game should be given to the excursion that the juniors took to adventure park. Basically this place is an attraction ground for kids to the max. Not only does it have millions of games everywhere, but it also has the largest labyrinth in the world. It is huge. It is a bit stressful to lead 8 kids through it – each one wanting to go this way and that – and having to mediate between all of them. Some of the parts of the maze are actually pretty cool. There is a zipline, a spider cage, a rope that you are supposed to swing across. Of course my fat Russian kid, Vova, didn’t make it across this rope, and all of his change fell in the dirty pool. We ended up seeing a place where you could climb up, and made it out. In this park, they had some of the biggest slides that you had to go down with a burlap sack. To get to these slides you actually had to climb up about 7 or 8 stories, and the wind up there was definitely above hat speed. On top of all this, the people gave us about 500 water balloons and told us that in one part of the park there was going to be a water balloon fight. Instead of giving these out to kids, as counselors, we knew better, and kept them for ourselves.

That evening, when all of the kids had evening activities, Logan, Janine and myself made some coordinated attacks. Although I guess this could be seen as obnoxious, it was mostly for fun and to lighten up the long job that the specialists had with our kids. We started with Giuseppe down on sports one. Attacking him from storming down the hill, and me coming in from behind the large circus tent, he ran and ducked to get hit by little water balloon fray. Yann was next down at circus. At the time he was consoling a girl on the tight rope, but since Logan and Janine saw him first, and I was swooping around on the other side, I could not be informed of this in time. Boom. Direct shot on the chest. Soaked. At least the girl stopped crying. We then hiked up to get Daniel Banks (a largely disliked counselor who had taken my job as the Karate specialist). Instead of doing Karate with his one child, he was in the arts and crafts room. A couple squirts with the gun got him outside to some righteous point blank shots. Mattieu was next, an easy target at climbing. As a new staff member, he took it like a champ, and we weren’t too malicious. The last target was Alex at music. By this time, we had Kevin with us, and he was able to coax Alex outside of the music hall who then became berated with water. I kind of felt bad about this one, because we really did get him wet, and he had a dinner about 30 minute later.

Anyways, this planted the seed in people’s mind about Ninja Assassin. Ninja, because things this year have been ninja, from
Ninja chair - a game that takes place at santa maria that involves through a golf ball through a heart shaped hole, to Ninja horsehoe (the same game but with a clay horseshoe), to Ninja anything (anything that you do that is stealthy around camp).



So here's how the game worked. The night before, Logan and I carved out a Potato with the word Ninja on it, which we proceeded to soak up in red paint which made it the "ninja stamp." Then, with the 41 names playing, Logan took the first 20, I took the last 21 - so we wouldn't know where the names were, we decided who had to kill who, placed the name inside an envelope along with 10 balloons. Basically, you had to kill your name, and once you killed that person, then they were supposed to give you their name. You could kill them using a water balloon, a water pistol, or a water bottle. If someone was trying to kill you, and you got them wet before they could get you wet, then you had immunity from that person for one hour. The game went off without a hitch, and even though people were pissed they got killed, I am pretty sure everyone enjoyed it. Jenny won, but since she was cheap about it, it was the righteous thing to do to go down to Golf with about 40 balloons and 6 other people and make it rain.

To recap camp as a whole, it has been amazing, I am happy I went, and I have made some more great friends this summer. I will miss them all and all of the memories.

the train museum

Sometimes when it rains the activities at camp can be a real stretch, and drive kids and counselors absolutely crazy. It can be a lot of uno, wink murder, babyfoot, and card games. For our half day hike though, instead of having to entertain the kids for 3 hours when it was raining, the camp sent me and Julie to the train museum. About a 10 minute walk from camp, the train museum sits in town with surprisingly large space. The people who run it are true nerds, and passionate about their trains, but it gets completely lost on the kids who just want to run around and touch things (exactly what they are not supposed to do). It brought me back to the hobby that my dad shared with me when we built z-scale trains, and it actually was cool to see how they reconstructed a lot of the train towns. The immaculate attention to detail in these models reminded me of how my dad used to build his models, and revealed itself as very Swiss. In a way, it showed the roots of where my dad was coming from, as nerdy as it was. It was also kind of cool to see this one demonstration by the owner of a train that was over 100 years old, and was propelled by a wind up. 




Here is a picture of the train that goes up from Chamonix. The only Z-scale one. 

Music is the language that sets you free

Last night was definitely one of the best nights this summer. I had been bugging Kirk for a while about playing at the Jazz bar, Rhapsodie, and finally we set a date and made it happen. The instrumentation was Kirk on piano and singing, Alex on violin, me on drums, and Helmut (the owner) on Alphorn and Flugglehorn. We played two sets, and for me, it was an expression of music that had been building up for a while, and letting it out was the most soul-satisfying feeling. As a musician, being able to play something that the audience can feel without being able to put words to it, is the most incredible thing. From the feedback, everyone seemed to enjoy it, and a couple staff members said that it was the calmest they have been all summer by hearing the live music. We had a pretty large repetoire, and had so much fun playing every song. From latinified-techno songs like "harder, faster, better, stronger," to classics like "I will survive," "Summertime," "Ain't no sunshine when she's gone," some Alisha Keys and Coldplay songs, we kept it jazzy and lively the whole night. It was particularly impressive with Kirk who is really a Sax player - so he basically fakes it on the piano - being able to hold it down the whole night. The son of some famous piano player also heard us play in the beginning, Victor Rosenbaum, and bought us drinks. Helmut also let us know how he is going to sell the place, so this probably was the last time that we will play with him. 

3rd Session

So now the 3rd and final session of camp has begun.  Back in the juniors, with a very russified group, here are some enjoyable/distorted pictures of my campers.  In total, I have three from Moscow, one from Kiev, one from China and France, one from Guadalupe, one from South Africa, and one from England. They are a good group, and all get along quite well. I can definitely tell already that there will be a number of characters. In our drama class today, I convinced the instructor to do it outside, and we all went around camp walking in different fashions; like a robot, lord of the rings, zombies, on the red carpet, swimming, etc.. It was great because these kids are still at the age where there is no shame and they will do absolutely anything.  With the Russian boys, I have been learning new words. With my limited vocabulary we have some really good conversations. 

Dobre = nice/good

Sliznak = slug/bad person

Pajoot = bad

Te dobre?  Nyet dobre! Sliznak!! Ya ne sliznak, te sliznak. Pajoot!! Kagdila.