“Ana ismee Kishan,” I said as we met countless friendly, helpful, and encouraging faces yesterday. The response I got at each place we went was all the same: “Anta misry?” In Arabic, this translates to “Are you Egyptian?” Of course, I somewhat expected these types of comments, but to have it happen numerous times throughout the day was a bit shocking. A strange dichotomy of belonging and alienation fell over me each time; men and women we met would first speak in fluent (and FAST) Arabic to me, as if I was the leader (at least in communication) for the group. Taking Arabic in Ustaad Lo’s (Arabic for Professor as referred to in Amber’s post) class at Duke was one thing; trying to communicate in the Arabic dialect of Ameya with native Egyptian speakers is a whole other ball game.
I was honored that they felt I could blend in, but for some reason it made me uncomfortable at the same time. Maybe because I was worried I would do something that a local Egyptian would not do? Maybe because I am certainly not the best Arabic speaker in our group (nowhere near Dylan, Desmond, or MJ), but those who we met assumed I could converse effortlessly? Whatever it was, I think Ustaad Lo could sense it. He has an incredible knack for picking up on people’s feelings through their body language and facial expression. He would always reply to people who asked if I was Egyptian by saying, “Ya Kishan wa Sarah misryoon,” (Kishan and Sarah are Egyptian) with his signature smile and laugh. The men and women in the room would all laugh (Ya Sarah is a brown-eyed, brunette, caucasian girl with a slight southern drawl straight from the countryside of North Carolina), and I would answer their questions with “La, la, shukran” (No, no, but thank you). Now, I’m not foolish; the way the rest of the group and I wander around the streets of Cairo, following Ustaad Lo like a puppy, does NOT make us blend in. But I think I replied with shukran because it felt nice to come somewhere completely new and feel a sense of belonging, even if it’s only because of appearances.
Yesterday, we first met with the Arab Academy and Al-Diwan. Here we will learn Arabic 9 hours per week. Upon our arrival at both places, we were greeted warmly. Everyone wanted to talk to us (especially in Arabic) and learn who we were. And they wanted us to EAT. They served us pastries, cakes, croissants, sodas, and teas. I was in disbelief at how much food they gave us, and insisted we at least try. Both groups gave us general information about Cairo and tips for learning and practicing Arabic, and they all repeatedly said, “Please, call us if you need help. We want to help and are always willing.” Each person we meet insists on giving us their phone number in case we need anything. Everyone is so friendly, and just as excited to work with us as we are to work with them. They seem genuinely happy that we have taken such a keen interest in their work, and are excited to share that work with us.
Dan Stephanie and I grabbing food at Abou Shakra!
Al-Resala is the largest NGO in Egypt, and is sort of a do-it-all organization. They do so many things from taking in orphans, to teaching Egyptians English, French, German, or teaching blind Egyptians how to read braille. In the US, NGOs are often very focused on one specific issue. While this allows for a certain degree of specialization, I think that many of the issues that plague the needy are interrelated. Al-Resala works to combat those issues by taking on what I call a horizontal approach: looking at a broad range of issues and how each one affects the other. By taking a holistic view of social, educational, and economic issues in Egypt, Al-Resala is likely able to better understand how to change and improve the issues that currently plague Cairo’s poor. The volunteers and staff were incredibly dedicated to their work, and I cannot wait to go to orientation on Wednesday.
Today we will be traveling to Al-Diwan and the Arab Academy on our own; without our fearless leader Ustaad Lo to guide us through the bustling streets of Cairo. It seems crazy that we are going to be alone in the city this morning, but Ustaad Lo has so much faith in us, and that gives me comfort. I know there will be bumps along the way, but with practice and time, we will be navigating the streets of Cairo just like Ustaad Lo. As he tells us, “Ya you guys you know the streets better than me…”
Hi Steve,
I’m sorry it has taken me so long to reply to your comment, but I was trying to gather some information from various first person sources as I did not know how the NGO’s were affected by the revolution. First, in reality, the government is in shambles right now with the recent seizure of power by the Supreme Council of Allied Forces (SCAF). This is a great article to get your questions answered about basic info regarding how this decision was made: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-middle-east-18463887. Anyway, back to how NGO’s have been affected by the “revolution,” we spoke with two professors from American University in Cairo (AUC) and she said two things have happened: 1) Many NGO’s in Egypt rely heavily on foreign aid to function, and the new government has completely cut off foreign aid to these NGO’s. This has left these organization completely handicapped. Many have shut down, or temporarily suspended their work. 2) A huge increase in xenophobia has been seen in the infrastructure of the NGO’s. A few months ago, Americans, as well as other foreigners, were forcibly removed from their positions in NGO’s and actually put in prison. The professors from AUC discussed how this hinders the NGO’s who do have funding because they rely heavily on foreign man power to operate. So you raise an interesting question about where people should get these services. In all honesty, I’m not sure at this point. Egypt’s government does not seem cohesive enough yet to provide these services, but with the NGO’s paralyzed, there seems to be nowhere to turn. In an ideal world, the government and the NGO’s will eventually partner to combat the various issues facing the Egyptian people, but I’m not sure if or when that partnership will be a viable option. I think the Egyptian government should allow foreign funding for these NGO’s, and it’s only creating more unrest among its citizens by limiting aid. Many of these citizens rely heavily on support from NGOs like Al-Resala, and without it, they will likely not survive. It seems counterintuitive to pull the plug on one of the few things that keeps many Egyptians relatively stable, and potentially incite even more chaos into this already-tumultous time in Egypt. I also think that taxes are a great way to pay for the services. In the Islamic religion, one of the Five Pillars of Islam is Alms. Muslims are generally obliged to give 2.5% of their savings to the less fortunate. Egypt is moving toward an Islamist government, why not incorporate this idea to aid organizations that work to help the less fortunate? They could also be funded by philanthropic endeavors, but I’m not sure how much wealth exists in the upper class of Egypt and how sustainable that would be. With all this being said, one of the professors from AUC did tell me that Al-Resala in particular has done a great job of withstanding the blows from the revolution. I did not get a chance to pick her brain about this, but I have put in an email with her and am looking forward to sharing with you what she says about the matter. Thanks for your question and I hope you got at least a bit of a clearer picture!
Al-Resala sounds like a neat organization and I think ‘horizontal approach’ is a great description. It sounds like they provide a number of basic needs services, services which are (or should be?) provided by governments in other countries. How do you see large NGO’s interacting with the newly forming government? Where should people get services? How should those services be paid for (donations, taxes, etc)?