Halas

Halas (pronounced more like Khalass) - that means, finished, that's enough, done! With the first term at least. Today was the last day, class party, and dressing up as a famous person from history.



I was Caesar.. and by coincidence so was one of my students.. None of the other children dressed up, but they were all happy to come out of uniform and bring savory egyptian sweets, along with pizza, burgers, milkshakes, juice, and ipod speakers to add to the party.

This last month has been durable, counting the days until the end of the term, continuing to learn Arabic, many nights spent playing domino, chess or backgammon with a shisha taba3an (of course) in one of the nearby coffee shops. And then there is always the occasional horseback ride by the pyramids. Since it's winter we can go during the day and don't have to wait for the full moon, but galloping in the sand while noticing these enormous structures built 5000 years ago has not lost its appeal.

The other day I was in Old Islamic Cairo with David and a friend who decided to go shop, so I went inside one of the old mosques there between prayer times. Al Azhar mosque, built in the 10th century, is a haven of peace from the hagglers in this area, beautifully intricate with design, and contains an aura of reverence and prayer. It's nice to imagine travelers who came 1000 years ago, and could sit in the exact same spot as I was and watch the birds fly high circles around the minarets. While sitting, someone approached me and offered me a free book about Mohammed, (admittedly Islam propoganda) and we had a great talk about religion, Obama, and Arabic. When he gave me the book he wrote in the inside cover, his address, his cellphone number, his phone number, and his email address, telling me that if I ever needed anything to call him. This wasn't so much of a move to convert me, but something decidedly Egyptian, and expression of over-generosity.


Yes, Egypt has grown on me, and is continuing to do so, but I will not miss it one bit. I'm leaving tomorrow for two weeks to Paris and then Morocco...

I am Israel...

… in the classroom. Well, let me put it this way; management in the class these days, especially with my homeroom class, 6 blue, is a bitch - almost to the point of neuroticism, and at a complete loss how to control them. Being an inexperienced teacher who makes plenty of first-year mistakes, and with all mid-year exams finished and a full week of school still left until break, the class climate has reached to a new level of disruption and at times, complete mayhem. Like constant side chatter, not following the rules in the hall, wrestling on the matt before class, stealing girls’ pencil cases and running around the room, singing in Arabic, blatant disregard for whatever I say when they don’t want to follow directions, and it goes on… Further, being inexperienced at showing them who is boss, I let them feel my powerful wrath in the form of ineffective shouting (although I try to limit this), and the occasional rash, and utterly punishing “warning letter.” The warning letter is a note from the school administration that is the most serious form of punishment that the school has to offer – a note sent home to the parents… Today my wrath came down two girls who were being blatantly rude, and leaving before I said it was time to go on the way down to the busses that would take them to their half-day exam. My warning came like this: “Nour, Nadine, I told you not to walk down the stairs before I go down…” (rude response) to “if you continue, you will get a warning letter.” (fine do it). So, knowing that I had to follow through on the threat, I handed them out letters when I had them again on 7th period when I had my class in the library. Like a group of innocent civilians who had just been doused with phosphorus from where a militant had launched a missile that landed in a goat field, the indignation of the two girls, and then by default, the entire class was sudden.
“But Mr. this is unfair, you did not give them any warning before this, you are supposed to have them write in the behavior book which does not even exist.” (true)
“This paper is all lies!” (possible).
“we misbehave all the time, why do they get one for simply walking down the stairs ahead of you?” (valid).
“But I said sorry after, when you were down in the lobby, and you accepted my apology” – Nour (weak argument, but true in the sense that she was under the impression her crime was absolved).
“The rest of the class walked down anyways after even when you told us to stay.” (true).
“Fine, we will no longer listen to you.” (ouch)
-and plenty of curses and insults to me in Arabic (which shows utter disrespect and is breaking a rule)
So effectively, I had made up the minds of most of these children that I was utterly cruel and unfair, and had declared a war. I could already picture in my head the level to which they were devising ways to be even more disastrous in the classroom. The problem was, from their behavior, they do deserve warning letters, their behavior merits it, but this overaggressive form was too punishing, and seen by all of them as utterly unfair. With five minutes left, I had the chance to speak to Nour and Nadine outside of the library in the courtyard. Slowly, as I was speaking to them, talking about their rude and disrespectful behavior, most of the class gathered round. In a move, that may well go down in the history books for six blue, I held both of the letters high, and ripped them, to a silent applause and an audible gasp of relief from Nour. I explained that this type of rude behavior and continuing disruption will not be tolerated and I apologized for this one time for what seemed unfair. I promised a system of fair and visible consequences (I’m making no excuses, but I have tried lots of things that have not worked). Who knows if the inner seeds of discontent will subside, but at least the visibility, and justness of punishment, will be prevalent, and it might have taken this shock and awe approach to get the point across. I don’t like bending back on my word, but it was worth it, at least to try to regain the respect and admiration of the rest of the class. And then there are those cherished moments, where I actually can feel like the kids are learning something because of what I taught.


The girls cheering on a football match ..

Looking at Palestine from Egyptian eyes

Palestine? 19 days now, over 1000 dead, 3000 wounded, infrastructure in shambles, and continued world inaction and tacit support from the United States for Israel. How does Egypt explain it to it’s children? Well during the assembly, the last period of the day, for the last fifteen minutes the history teacher (who is half Palestinian) spoke about Gaza to pay homage to the situation. First she fielded answers of what they knew anything about the Gaza, from accepting answers to “over 800 dead are women and children,” “Israel is only killing innocent civilians,” with an obvious lack of connection that Israel is targeting Hamas. The only mention that Hamas received was that it is part of Palestine, with the reason as to why Israel is attacking as, “well that is the problem.” The she went on to explain the history of the Jewish race in biblical terms, talking about Jakob and the Jewish people how they were persecuted everywhere they went, and then Moses and his trip across the Red Sea to the Holy Land. The brief history fast forwarded to Theodore Hertzl and the prospect of Zionism finding roots in either Palestine or Argentina and the Balfour Declaration giving the Jewish people a right to land in Palestine. “And our story continues from there...”
As an Egyptian child, the constructions in my mind would be inclined to simplify it this way: Israel is a country where a lot of Jewish people live who have claimed it on biblical terms and is deliberately killing Muslim women and children for no reason other than that these Muslims want their land back. And in the Arab world, this is no extreme. Nor is it a secret that my children hate Israel. I have seen kids in the hall pushing one another saying “Ana Misri inte Israel” “I’m Egyptian you are Israel,” or ask me if they could bring in a poster with Israel on it and stomp on it in class. Fair enough, it is hard to be objective in a land that tells you that you won the war when you pushed Israel back over the Bar-Lev line in 1973, and to have had the entire Sinai peninsula occupied for the purpose of Israel asserting itself in the Middle East, or to be a Muslim and see your religion in an ideological battle with the Jews. So will the next generation of Egyptian kids be traveling to Israel for a friendly football match? Vacation in Tel Aviv? And vice versa? The one-sidedness of all this can be expected, but it is upsetting that it will never change.

London!

On the 7th of January, Egypt celebrates Christmas, and I was able take advantage of these two days off plus the weekend to hop over to London. The timing was perfect. I finished work at school, and jumped off the bus right in front of the airport to catch my flight about an hour and a half later. Not only was it good to see my grandfather, my uncle, my aunt, and my cousins, but Michaela flew in to London literally two hours after my flight to live for the next six months on a work visa, and I was able to see a bunch of friends from camp. It was nice to do the typical Jospe things with her; philosophical and reminiscent conversations with my grandfather, enjoying dry martinis, long dinners, as well as taking advantage of being in London to see some museums, the Royal Gallery and Tate Modern, and buy some books. Then having the pleasure of orientating Michaela around London and soak in some of the essence of a clean, cold, European city (coming from Cairo it is a striking difference). Although I am fully enjoying this experience in a foreign land, it was a nice break to be able to ride public transportation where people are actually polite, and where one can hear English as the main language. At one point as I was waiting for the bus to go to my uncle’s there was some guy going on about how annoying it is of people who ask for money in the street. Maybe he was crazy, but he was harmless and just wanted to talk about this to someone, so we debated for a bit. Maybe I’m crazy, but not being able to fully communicate with strangers (when I want to) in Cairo bothers me, so I’ll do it when I can – part of my drive to learn Arabic inshallah.
We went out one night to meet up with Ville and Chi and some of their friends which ended up in a Karaoke place where you rent your own room and rock out with two mics, wigs, hats, and some tambourines. Then another night it was a Alex Moore’s birthday from my first year working at camp four years ago, and basically everyone who worked at camp and lives in London was there about 10 people. All these guys are “grown up,” but all legends who have come and gone at camp, and great to catch up with all of them. I landed back in Cairo, knowing that I would make good on the one month tourist Visa (and not get fined 153 pounds like I did on the way out for staying over) as for my midyear break I will meet up with Michaela in Paris and then go to Morocco!

New Years

I rang in New Years in Egypt in a restaurant over King Farouk stables with a group of Egyptian guys whom I met through Badr in Giza. It was fun to be the only foreigner “khawaga” with this group, in their 20s or so, and not much English spoken by them. It’s interesting how the dynamic of Arab friends works; in a way, I needed to poke fun at them to be more accepted, (like call someone gay) so then they could make fun of me, and then everyone is more comfortable with each other, but in the end everything is about not losing face and appearing to be the tougher guy. The restaurant didn’t serve beer, but let you bring your own, and keep the night going with Shisha, tea, and food. At one point I went to check out the horses with Badr, and got a kiss from one of them – I’m pretty sure I’m the only one of the group that night who got any action, because it was all guys, and the horse backed away when Badr when in for the kiss..

The next day I went to see some Christmas carols at a Christian rock band concert. It was warming to see everyone in their Christmas gear, and singing along to these Christmas carols in Arabic. It definitely gave me some of the Christmas spirit that up until this point has been lacking. It was cool to see people sing along to these carols as something they know well from their childhood, just like the songs I would know in English. The pastor went on to talk about things that sound only too familiar; the problems with commercialization of Christmas, and the need to come back to the importance of why we celebrate Jesus (ya3suuah).

On New years eve, we did have school that day, but it was a Christmas celebration. At first there was a talent show, where there were a bunch of songs and dances, and for pretty much every song I was playing either on the congas or the drums. No joke, I played drums for a bunch of German songs, then for the "school band" (which is about 10 guitarists, and the school music teacher), then with Samir (who comes in and plays Piano for the school) where we played a couple of Christmas songs, and then with the school music teacher where we played a couple latin songs. In retrospect, playing the Christmas songs with Samir on the assumption that the kids would just sing along because of course they knew the words, and we even handed out the lyrics to 20 or so, was a bad idea. We started out with jingle bells which everyone knows, but then there was dead silence to "Joy to the world," "we wish you a merry christmas" and "rudolf the rednosed raindeer." After the talent show, I got to dress up as Santa Claus. In a nutshell, I think the cultural difference between Egyptian four year olds and American four year olds is that when an American three year old sees someone dressed as Santa, he doesn't start to cry... Either way, I came on stage and entertained all of the KG's, giving some joyful "ho ho ho's" and handing out gifts to all the kids. I had pillows stuffed around me that kept on falling down, and it was pretty funny how I waddled about...

I’m really not one to do resolutions, but I have 3 inshallah.
-No more yelling in the class room. Zero. Sometimes I lose my temper at these kids, and I especially don’t like how the difference between yelling at them and being actually angry can become indistinguishable. Managing the classroom is a bitch, but I have never been an angry person, and don’t want to become one.
-Stay with learning five new words in Arabic a day. I’ve been getting lazy. Next year, I want to be back in Cairo studying Arabic. Just being with Badr and his friends makes me realize how badly I want to be fluent in this language, and I am ready to put in the work.
-Try cooking a new recipe at least once a week, and actually learn how to cook. Sadly, at this point, I have gotten into the groove of cooking the same three meals, and eating the cheap food on the street. Now is really the time. I can mess up as much as I like. I have no one here to impress, and there is a teacher in my staff room who is now giving me recipes and tips on cooking. She is like the Egyptian version of Paula Dean.

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..