Wednesday, July 29, 2009

The Discourse of DukeEngage - Mbaye Lo


It is my honor to be able to post a blog entry from our beloved group leader, Professor Lo. Thank you for the time you have invested in this program and in each one of us. - Daniel Barron


At the end of the 2008-09 school year, DukeEngage marked the beginning of a three-day academy, in which roughly 350 students participated. Its goal was to maximize students’ intellectual and behavioral capacities to engage, to provide students with the skills necessary for volunteering across cultural, ethical and logistical challenges. This event was a practical move forward because as DukeEngage bureaucratizes its personnel, it also has to institutionalize its mission. However, the other side of the debate on DukeEngage was not presented in this workshop, and now as site leaders, we have to confront its manifestations on the ground, deal with its presence on blogs and websites, and address its symptoms in students’ anxiety. It is a cultural debate, and DukeEngagers, whether faculty, students or community partners, have to deal with its multifaceted constructions. It is an uneasy argument, a discursive dialogue on the purpose and relevance of DukeEngage.

The main tenet of this discourse is the idea that by assuming the role of a community helper and a ‘world changer,’ a DukeEngager is also projecting and assuming some level of superiority, elitism and leadership. This debate could extend further into the world of politics if it is introduced in the global context, where the legacy of international non-governmental organizations (NGOs), and the failed politics of multi-lateral aid and neo-colonial policies have served to foster economic dependency and generate a wide-spread politics of discontentment among the communities that they intended to serve. Since DukeEnage is geared toward partnership with local communities, its model is hardly divorced from international NGOs. The similarities are that both are sponsored by an external entity, both are Western-based, and both are primarily accountable to their sponsors, and not necessarily to those they serve.

Therefore, there is some validity to these postulations: they are well intentioned in many cases, even if they are based on ill-informed criticisms. The validity is that there is an existing structural tradition that justifies these concerns, and we should not ignore them. However, DukeEngage is also a remedial model, an experimental approach to treat societal challenges, unlike many of the international NGOs.

On this latest point, the approach of DukeEngage should not be confused with that of many of the international NGOs. If the reality of international NGOS is that they often bypass local communities in their decision-making process, and that they are often legitimated by and accountable to their external board members, DukeEngage’s mission is service-oriented; its success is measured by a positive impact on community partners, its student body and to Duke University. By impact here we mean the degree to which community projects are completed, and their internally established agenda are accomplished. In some respects, measuring the impact of DukeEngage is a difficult undertaking, but its hallmarks include a lasting experience for the DukeEngager, a deeper bond with fellow students and faculty, and an entrepreneurial approach toward societal causes. In this sense, Duke will become known as an institution that bridges theory and practice, an institution of learning and service, and an entrepreneurial hub of civic engagement.

In this, one touches the philosophical ground on which DukeEngage differs from other social service providers. International NGOs are an outgrowth of conditionalized aid and politicized humanism, which, in a deep analytical reading, cannot be divorced from contemporary human catastrophes. The father of the concept of the international NGO, Guy Gran, has argued (in Development by People) that international NGOs (from the industrialized countries) should be the catalyst for applying just civil society in developing countries. Obviously, this is not the domain of DukeEngage. DukeEngage, as I understand it, is an investment in the human self, the human capacity and ability to do good, regardless of the constraints of lack of experience and the challenges of time-limits. It is a manner of helping students transit from the legally segregated classrooms to the chaos of the hierarchical, politically divided outside world, where they can witness the myriad problems that confront humanity across the globe.

No one can deny the failure of institutionalized diplomacy to prevent war, reduce poverty or even criminalize man’s inhumanity to man. It is a shame that so many years have passed since Jean Améry, a philosopher and an Auschwitz survivor who committed suicide, warned us that ”anyone who has been tutored remains tortured,” (in At the Mind’s Limits) and that our democracies are still debating the ‘needs and utility of torture.’ it is a crack in our moral order that the same rationale of going to war that caused mass human displacement in the twelfth century in the Middle East is today largely the same rationale for war that is behind the 9.2 million refugees and 25 million internally displaced people around the world (UNCHR Report, 2006 & UNCHR World Refugee Day, 2009 gave an estimate of 42 millions). Human progress should not only be measured by what it can do, but rather by what it has failed to achieve. There is an old Wolof proverb that says “the sharpness of your sword also mirrors the limits of your argument.”

As I told Yasmina, a staff writer of Egypt Daily News, in response to her inquiry on whether DukeEngage was a response to Obama’s engagement of the Muslim world, DukeEngage is not the Peace Corps, and it is certainly not President Obama’s brainchild. It seems to me that both President Obama and DukeEngage are products of a chain of occurrences that followed 9/11. In major human tragedies, the great Arab poet and philosopher, Al-Mutanabbi (d. 965) postulates, man has the natural predisposition to go to extremes—whether right or wrong—good or bad—evil or noble. DukeEngage was an institutional response to this tragedy, as is Obama’s appearance, in the reactionary chain of the many responses to the tragedy. The Peace Corp, although a great success in terms of numbers (more than 165,000 since its inception in 1961) and in terms of its mission of being for ‘world peace through friendship,’ is different from DukeEngage due to its national self-centered goal of “grand and global alliance,” to quote President Kenney’s words.

DukeEngagers should highlight these differences in theory and practice. They should not shy away from articulating what the program stands for, and proudly affiliate themselves with its mission and vigorously work for its success. At the communal level, they should be partners in development, and not agents of development; not managers of development, but facilitators of its projects; they should be working for the success of their projects, and not as consultants for these projects.

From a conceptual framework, there is a direct link between serving oneself, serving a local community and serving internationally. Current globalizing trends have increasingly promoted a worldview that states that a societal crisis anywhere is a societal crisis everywhere. The evidence is un-deniable, whether it is the Taliban revolt in Afghanistan and Pakistan, the pirates off of the cost of Somalia, or the swine flu outbreak that started in Mexico. These issues and their widespread impact all reflect the interconnectedness of the world’s communities, and the need for concerted, coordinated service to all.

Khalas (Finish) - Daniel Barron

I am no longer a teacher. I do not mean this figuratively. My students have not transformed in to my friends, they began as such. My students are not like my children either; I consider them my equal as they are my age. I mean this literally. After six weeks of teaching English at St. Andrew’s Refugee Center and conducting a two day workshop focusing on computer skills in addition to celebrating their accomplishments.

Can you measure success? I suppose each teacher is attempting this in their minds. By focusing on the improvements in their students the feeling of accomplishment swells. I might as well participate; my students dramatically improved their critical reading skills as well as their writing abilities. Well I guess that was the purpose of the trip.

Obviously, I came to Egypt for so many more reasons than this, and my interactions with my students accomplished much more than a simple sentence, pardon me, complex sentence can convey. While another purpose of Duke Engage is for me, the American college student, to learn, I think we should not change are focus from my students so quickly. This trip will not be both the beginning and end of my relationship with my students. During this month and a half, I have invested much into my students beyond time. I have taken an interest in their lives, and this interest will not cease after I leave Egypt. It will continue as we correspond through e-mail. Who knows? Perhaps one of my students will even be able to make it to America some day and I will be able to once again physically help. Regardless, while I understand that this experience is intended to be a learning experience (and this goal has definitely been met!), firstly, I believe it should be about the people we serve. It has been this for me

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Username: Duke. Password: Engage - Atif Mahmood

Today, July 27, 2009, was the penultimate day of our teaching experience at St. Andrews. Instead of lumbering through another day of teaching in a small, stuffy, ramshackle classroom, all the Blue Devils decided to bring the fifteen or so students to our apartments. We taught them vital internet skills such as using email and Google and checked up on their typing skills. More importantly, we were able to provide a fun, social environment for them, replete with purple Fanta grape soda and groovy Ethiopian music.

I began the day trying to teach my student Zakariye how to write an email. When it took him more than 30 seconds to find “y” on my keyboard, I realized the kid had seldom written anything on a computer. Zakariye is one of the weakest students of the group, which is surprising since, being 23-years old, he’s the oldest of them all and is a student majoring in history (at least that’s what he told me) at Cairo University. One would expect him to know some basic computer skills at the least. But Zakariye does not spend his time in front of the screen typing emails. While using a computer, he usually goes on YouTube or plays some kind of “shooting” game with friends. The only informatory website Zakariye uses (apart from YouTube, the biggest time-wasting phenomenon on earth) is calanka.com – a major Somali news website.

Zakariye’s compatriot from Somalia, Mohammad Ali, then shed light on the perplexing account of Zakariye’s dismal computer skills. According to him, many Somali refugees in Cairo did not have access to the internet back in their home country. Highlighting the lack of this basic facility, Mohammad Ali explained how he made his first email account in Cairo back in 2006 and subsequently lost it through typing in the wrong password over and over again. And the only way most refugees can access the internet in Cairo is through cheap internet cafés, which, in my experience, provide a rather unsatisfactory browsing experience due to the abominably slow internet connection at such places.

For me the highlight of the day was helping one of my Sudanese students, Abdallah, make a Gmail account. Seeing how I, Dan and Steve all use Gmail over Yahoo Mail or Hotmail, Abdallah wanted Gmail as well. His user name: bigboy.abdallah. Don’t ask me how he came up with “Big Boy,” but he sure was ecstatic when he was able to use his Gmail to send and receive emails from the Blue Devils. Google if you’re reading, we just provided you with another customer, so save an internship for me for next summer please.

Most Americans take the internet for granted. Back at Duke, I check my email at least five times a day. My work for my second NGO AWTAD revolves around constant Google searches for information, information, and yet more information. My first three weeks in Cairo were the most miserable of all mostly because we had no internet. Therefore, with my background of being incessantly in front of my laptop screen, I was absolutely shocked to find someone like Zakariye unable to write and send a simple email. It disheartens me to know that my time at Duke Engage will end very soon, and except for email, I have no means, NO means, of contact with Zakariye. He does not have a cell phone and I doubt letters would reach his address. The internet is my last and only hope of staying in touch with someone I’ve grown closer to in the past few weeks. If the worst comes to worst, I’ll probably have to email Big Boy Abdallah, who’s Sudanese, and ask him to first find Zakariye, a Somali living in a city of more than 15 million people, and then give him a review lesson in the fine art of staying connected online.

Saturday, July 25, 2009

Mission Accomplished - Susan Park




Some of us, Katherine, Dan, Abby, and I work with our second NGO, Al Kayan. Al Kayan works with children with disabilities and provides various therapies and activites. The Egyptian society is not yet in the process of welcoming and giving access to job opportunites to these children. This kind of attitude is different from what we usually observe in the United States. After all, those with disabilities are protected by the law and if they choose to do so, can educate themselves and find jobs.

One day, when I talked about how our community partner al Kayan wanted to take us to the public library, Professor Lo said something quite interesting. Basically, he explained that when Egyptians see that even Americans care about these children, they may start to think differently about children with disabilities. In a way, we are setting an example and perhaps even breaking the mistaken notion that Americans only care about themselves in Cairo.
I had never thought about going to the public library as being so significant. It inspired me to care about the children even more.

As we settled in the library, the children drew pictures and played with play-doe. Each children required a volunteer's full attention. I started to work with one girl. However, she started to hit me and tried to pull my hair. It didn't make me angry but it made me sad because she had no control over her behavior. She could not control her affection or her dislike. If almost everyone in this world is scared about losing control, how scary is it that she does not have control over such simple emotions as like or dislike.

As we left, many Egyptian children turned to look. Mostly they were interested in us foreigners. Later, they came up and took pictures of us and asked for our emails and phone numbers. We felt like celebrities!. However, they also took interest in the children that we were holding hands with. Some of them came up to the children and hesitantly said hi to them. These children with disabilities were no longer ignored, no longer dismissed. Mission Accomplished for today!

Food for All - Susan Park



These past few weeks, certain reactions from our students have surprised and confused me.This is a result of my presumptuous thoughts, which I am sure most people have without even having tried to reason through them.

During lunch time, our partner organization St. Andrews provides free meal for our students. At first glance, the meal looks unappetizing with nude colored beans and no utensils to eat with. In fact, you simply dip bread into this porridge-like creation. Honestly, I did not even want to taste it (When I did try it, it tasted a lot better than it looked) . However, I must admit that I was surprised to see similar reactions from our students. Perhaps I, without having truly thought about it, assumed that since the students are refugees, they must be used to this kind of meal. One of my students frowned at the bowl of food and balked at taking a step closer to it. Only when the teachers set an example did the students shyly take some food.

On another day when we had taamiya instead of the usual bean porridge, the students actually welcomed food. One of our students told me that this is food. He explained that he realizes that he is a refugee and that he is grateful for us teachers, but that they wanted to eat something delicious. In the end, however, it was not about the taste of the food that mattered (because as I have said before, it did not taste bad at all) but the difference between what the students and I thought about the food.

Why did we assume that they would welcome a meal that looked unappetizing? Why did we assume that they would welcome a meal that we, American students, balked at? What right do we have to judge what is acceptable to others? Don't people deserve the same treatments regardless of their backgrounds?

I believe that these assumptions arise from overestimating the status of being an American and undermining those of others. However, I also believe that these unquestioned assumptions are what leads to human rights violation all around the world. This is why ignorance and lack of thought are dangerous. Realizing this, it is even more critical to dispel unquestioned assumptions arising from ignorance of all people.

Letting go of past certainties… - Steve Schmulenson

I cannot believe that my time here in Cairo is winding down so quickly. At the same time, it seems like I have been here for a year and have been here for only a few days. So much has happened around me and to me, and I wish I could have kept up with a blog. As I write, it makes me wonder why I have not been doing so. I think it is because that everything that has happened on this program seems too significant to be confined in the temporal realm of words. Instead, I have been documenting my experience through pictures, which I have been regularly uploading to Facebook. Yet, in a way, pictures too can represent another temporal constraint, so why is it that I have preferred them?

The answer to my question is at best unresolved. Right now, I find it necessary to write about what has happened recently, and so I think I will just let the ideas pour out. Perhaps because it is towards the end, I have been reflecting a lot lately on how this experience has changed me and how I have changed the environment around me. Any such reflection is not one easily thought out, so I apologize now if any of the following is disjointed!

To best describe what has been an amazing experience here in Cairo requires the following recognition: I find myself doing things I would not have imagined I was capable of doing before coming here. I have always read the sappy pieces of literature on how engaging in community service makes you feel good and how it changes you and so forth. Now, I am not saying their message is bad at all. It just seems silly to simply describe what a civic engagement experience is really like. Unfortunately, I may be committing the same folly here, but again forgive me. As of now, I felt I have truly connected with my students to the point where their failure is my failure. This may be what every teacher would go through, but with my students I truly feel that they have become part of me. I still cannot even begin to comprehend what they have gone through, but I never thought I could so quickly connect so deeply and become friends with my students in the way that I have during this program (not even freshman orientation at school can compare!).

Yet, my students are not the only people I have forged connections with. As of this writing, I feel that I have made real inroads with local Egyptians. Of course I can still and always be recognized as a foreigner, but this has not made it impossible for me to be accepted by Egyptians. Two days ago, I attended a gathering of intellectuals discussing the issue of the full veiling of Egyptian women’s faces with others on the program and our professor. I was trying my best to grasp the gist of the conversation, as it was in Arabic, and for the most part I could grasp a few words. While at this debate, I met an Egyptian writer of children’s books, who immediately took an interest in my friends and I. What was so interesting about our meeting was that it was fully in Arabic; it was a challenge for me to sustain a dialogue in Arabic for over an hour. Nevertheless, it greatly pleased me to find that I was able to speak and understand most of what he was saying.

Our conversation quickly turned political, which instantly made me recoil. Talking about politics openly, with not only foreigners but Americans as well is something that I know does not always lead to something positive. This time, however, it did. Before I knew it, this author, who I will refer to as Amir, was insisting on taking us out to a local café so that we could experience the “real” Egypt. He also wanted to take us on a tour of his own neighborhood. Naturally, I immediately became tense and uncomfortable. Although I had been in Cairo for almost two months at that point, my deeply ingrained sense of not trusting strangers was telling me that this could never be.

Nonetheless, I, along with two of my friends on the program, Dan and Atif, agreed, with the urging of our professor, to having Amir taking us out to a café two days later. When he met us then, he had brought along his young daughter to meet us as well. Without wasting any time, and with a spring in his step, he eagerly led us to a local café in his neighborhood where we drank tea. He pointed out all of the local buildings and described their architecture to us. All of this, of course, was conducted in Arabic.

For me, this was a challenge. I was excited to find out that I understood what he was saying. Granted, he was speaking slower and was obliging us by speaking in Modern Standard Arabic, or Fushaa, but I was still happy that my years of studying Arabic are starting to pay off. Yet, an unforeseen challenge was that I found myself confronted with the position of being an impromptu translator. My friends who were with me are certainly some of the best students in the Arabic program at Duke, but I had forgotten that they were still a year behind me in their studies. Translating Amir’s comments for them, and then translating their questions for Amir into Arabic, was rather difficult because our conversation was once again about politics. As such, the concepts we were discussing were dense and like most discussions about politics seemed to lead to always-arguable conclusions and a thirst for expounding more upon them. I had to be flexible and come up with ways to translate my friends’ questions into terms that I was familiar with while at the same time ensuring that the meaning of their questions was not skewed. Hopefully, I was successful!

In the end, our conversation was indeed difficult, but it was an illuminating one as well. The problem that we found is that Amir was telling us that the best way for foreigners to help the Egyptian people is to help them directly. He told us that money is not important; education and total advancement were what he claimed Egyptians wanted most from the outside world. This admission hit me square in the face. The way he said it made it sound so simple and uncomplicated, yet I knew that this could not be. Political conventions and practicality all stand in the way. But, this truly showed me how important it is to remember that volunteer work is not something you just do. When you volunteer, those you help expect actual direct help. Indirect help and a lack of personal contact frustrate those in need. On the one hand, this may be an unfair expectation for someone who volunteers; they too have their lives and daily problems. Sometimes those that need help have been suffering for so long that this recognition is one that may be unfair to expect from them. As such, I felt at that moment that I truly learned that any volunteer role requires thinking and doing things for those you are helping to be your number one priority. I hope this is the message my students at St Andrews are receiving.

Our adventure into the streets of Cairo and its daily life did not end at the café. What happened next is definitely something I never thought I would do: my friends and I accepted an invitation to Amir’s house. Before I go on, I must say that I am still ever distrustful of strangers, but in Cairo my expectations for Egyptian behavior cannot be the same for American behavior. I am not saying Egyptians and Americans are inherently different and incompatible (that would be far from truth!), I am just saying the cultural standards of what is considered normal and mundane is different.

On the way to Amir’s place, we found ourselves in the shadow of the famous Ibn Tulun Mosque, which is constructed from mud-brick and sports one of only two remaining minarets in the world that have a spiral staircase running along its exterior. Amir was demonstrating to us that Egyptian daily life was always in the shadow of its rich past, much as how the winding streets of his neighborhood would always be in shadow of that famous mosque and its minaret.

Amir’s apartment was located at the uppermost floors of a high-rise, and he led us to the rooftop. Before our eyes was the most amazing view of Cairo I have had the whole time since I have been here. All of Islamic Cairo was unfolded before our eyes: the Citadel, Sultan Hassan Mosque, and the Ibn Tulun Mosque were all there. At the moment, I realized my camera was not with me, and I wanted to kick myself. My camera was my documentary tool, and my opportunity was lost, or so I thought. While on the rooftop, Amir insisted on us playing simple children’s games with him and his family and friends. Many of us certainly were too old for these games, but there we were. We were Americans and Egyptians, no people, enjoying each other’s company by playing simple games on a rooftop overlooking all of Cairo. It was something out of a dream, something that erased any distinction of tourist, foreigner, or local. At that moment I realized this was it, this was Egypt. No camera was needed to document such a realization.

Unfortunately, we could not spend as much time with Amir and his family as we would have liked. We had Arabic class that night, but of course we left later than we intended, as we could not refuse Amir’s wife’s kindly invitations to drink some soda. I realized that we had given Amir and his family a chance to enjoy themselves in a way that perhaps they have never before or only have done once in a great while. They loved being our hosts and enjoying simple games to convey their overly kind hospitality to us all. This experience was one that I thought I could never be capable of having, and I realize now it could not have happened unless I bended the boundaries of my own comfort levels.

I hope that this experience will live with me forever, as I know my time here in Egypt will. It is sad for me to be writing this now. I know I am ready to go back home to the United States and be with my family and friends, but I do not think I will ever be ready to leave Cairo. Egypt has become a home to me, and it fills me with pleasure at the thought that I can return here in the future and have people eager to see me again. I could not think of a better thought on my imminent departure from here. Ma’salaama.

Monday, July 20, 2009

Why Can’t We be Friends - Atif Mahmood

Last Wednesday, I took three of my students – Asli, Mona and Abdullah – to watch the sixth Harry Potter movie. Having fun was part of my agenda, of course. But I actually really wanted to observe firsthand how Abdullah, who’s Sudanese, would interact with Mona and Asli, both Somali, outside of the domains of the classroom.

The movie itself was terrific. All of us kept laughing hard during the first half of the movie, and were on the edge of our seats during the other half. I asked Asli whether she and Mona understood what the characters were saying (British accents are bound to sound different from the American ones we’re bombarding them with in class). She nodded and replied that they were reading the Arabic subtitles. That surprised me a bit, since I realized that the two Somali girls sitting beside me were laughing and gasping at all the right moments. I thought that they knew too little Arabic to be able to read the subtitles quickly enough. I guess I was proven wrong. Abdullah, on the other hand, I knew was as comfortable with Arabic as Harry with his phoenix-feather wand. He thoroughly enjoyed the movie, as expected.

Later on, on the taxi ride back home, I asked Asli about the relationship between Somali refugees and Sudanese refugees living in Cairo. She told me, in broken English, that there have been fights between Sudanese and Somalis. She began a story, much of which I think was lost in translation, of how a Somali she knew had her arm broken on the hands of some Sudanese refugees. She also mentioned that the Sudanese are larger in number in Cairo and have better access to resources such as the NGOs at work here. I then asked her whether or not she was friends with Abdullah. Both Mona and Asli laughed, and said that Abdullah’s all right. He’s their classmate. But “what will happen once class ends?” The girls did not know of any Somali befriending a Sudanese. Were it not for my position as a teacher, Abdullah would never have mingled with Mona and Asli outside of St. Andrews.

In overpopulated Cairo, refugees are competing for meager resources not only against Egyptians, but among themselves as well. In the words of Grandmaster Flash “It's like a jungle sometimes it makes me wonder.”

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Teaching and Learning - Yasmina Chergui


I can’t believe now that there's a rhythmic pattern to our days and work routine, we only have four weeks left. Time is going by so fast! Monday-Thursday we all go to St. Andrews to teach. I’ve gotten so used to walking to the metro station on those mornings, arriving at St. Andrews, and entering our classroom. Our classroom has undergone so many changes- the walls were painted a pastel purple, the floor has been cleaned, there’s a working AC, and we have a whiteboard. It really has a homey feel to it. Even my relationship with the students has changed. They are more than just students that we teach; they’ve become friends that I care about dearly. I'm really enjoying everything and learning so much along the road. Though it seems sort of cliche admitting that this experience is changing me, it really is. Working with the children at St. Andrews has been eye-opening in so many ways. I've never met children that are so eager to learn and interact with us. I've worked with different students within the program, but the past two weeks I’ve worked closely with a girl named Meron, from Ethiopia. Meron attends the summer program at St. Andrews with her older brother, and they both live with their mom in Cairo. According to Meron, her mother works for a "rich Madame" by cleaning her house. Meron and her brother seem to be a bit more well-off than the other students, but this is based solely on clothes and overall appearance. It amazes me how dedicated Meron is to her studies. I've tutored students in the United States, but I haven't found the same level of dedication and excitement that the children at St. Andrews express. It has made me realize how I’ve almost taken my education for granted. Even though I’ve always been serious about my school work and I take pride in my work, I’ve still complained about having too much homework or having to wake up early in order to go to class. These students are at St. Andrews by 9 am, and they are ready for us to give them as much information as possible. Not only that, but for some of the students, the trip over to St. Andrews involves a long metro ride, a bus ride, and some walking.

Everyday that we teach, we break for a 45 minute lunch break. Yesterday, at the start of this break, I took the time to speak with Meron and ask her a few questions about how she came to Egypt. Keep in mind Meron is only in elementary 1, so she still has limited vocabulary. From what I gathered, it was for “political reasons.” She kept saying the “political case” caused them to come here. She mentioned that her brother, Abel, who is also in our program, was arrested and imprisoned. That was extremely shocking- Abel is the most advanced English speaker in our program and by far one of the most well-mannered kids I’ve ever met. Once he was released, they all packed their things and came to Egypt. It amazed me that while she was sharing this story, she was able to keep a calm face and still managed to smile at the end of the story. Meron never feels discouraged, and that’s something I love and admire about her. Often times I think about the misfortunate realities facing refugees in Egypt and how these children still wear the biggest smiles on their faces when they are with us. I’ve spoken with Egyptians that complain about the refugees and even make derogatory comments. For some Egyptians, the refugees are seen as a burden- Cairo is already crowded, we don’t need more people. It’s unfortunate because while Cairo is indeed crowded, where are these refugees to go? The children we work with would love to able to be in their native countries, but that isn’t an option for them. It’s sad that they are forced to leave their homes, in many cases without any family members, and arrive in Egypt only to feel un-welcomed. I don’t want to generalize because from what I’ve personally seen, Egyptians are kind towards refugees. However, my Egyptian friend told me that when Sudanese refugees first started arriving in Egypt, they were met by mobs of people that beat them and drove them out.

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Move, Shake, Drop! - Amy Snook

This past Saturday, I spent my morning and part of my afternoon teaching a dance to some of the children at St. Andrews. Michelle and I got together a group of students at 10:00 in the morning, not knowing what to expect, and managed to teach them two different dances by 1:00 in the afternoon. We told the arts and music teacher to invite whoever he felt would enjoy dancing to our special program, and we would come prepared with a dance. At first we were going to teach the dance to Single Ladies, but upon getting there we realized that the dance was too hard for the little girls. I had already put together a dance to the song Baby Boy, and expounded on that. There were no boys invited to this workshop, only girls, which was easier because we know much more girl-oriented dance moves. Teaching these kids the different dances was a great experience because despite our major differences, we have one common passion- dancing. Watching the girls dance was great for me because it made me realize how universal dancing actually is. People all over the world can unite and find commonalities within dance, and it's a great way to have fun. The kids at St. Andrews love to dance and they especially love African-American hip hop artists. I was talking to Michelle, and we were speculating about why they don't listen to rock as much, why it's mainly rap, and hip hop, and R&B and I ventured a guess that it's inspiring for them to see successful African-Americans making music in America. It probably isn't as inspiring to a young Sudanese or Eritrean girl to watch a middle aged white guy jam out on a guitar. I could be completely wrong, but the theory seems to make sense. The girls always ask for Beyonce, or Chris Brown, and sometimes Shakira. The boys love Soulja Boy and Chris Brown and sometimes Lil' Wayne. Soulja Boy seems to be the most popular by far, so one day Abigail and I actually taught a group of students the dance to one of Soulja Boy's songs. It turns out that the dances that Michelle and I are teaching to the students will be performed in the closing ceremony. The students weren't going to perform anything but since we're putting together a dance for them, they get to show the entire school what they've learned. They almost jumped through the roof when they heard they would be performing! Michelle and I will be doing this every Saturday until the closing ceremony, and hopefully the dances will look really good. I can't wait for next Saturday!

Monday, July 6, 2009

Dancing in Cairo - Michelle Sawyer

I wanted to teach dance at Saint Andrew’s as my independent project ever since I saw the children dancing to Aqua’s “Dr. Jones” on the first day. However, I was always skeptical as to what would be appropriate material to teach them. I am already seen as this symbol of Western promiscuity just by being a white female in Cairo; I didn’t need to make things worse by teaching the kids how to properly isolate their hips.

But to my surprise, the girls had already mastered the art of sexual dancing. As weird as it may sound, I’ve seen some fully veiled 17-year-old refugees get down. So, if they already knew how to do body rolls like Beyoncé, I wasn’t going to worry about my material being too risqué.

Since “Single Ladies” was already one of the students’ favorite songs, I figured they would get excited about learning the dance from the music video. And they did. The only part I was worried about teaching was the segment starting 53 seconds in. But to my surprise they already knew it. (If you don’t know the part I’m referring to, please see the music video.)

My professor wants me to use the available funding to get these girls costumes. Do you think I’d be pushing it if I got them black leotards and spike heels?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x1nixzYHDus

Sunday, July 5, 2009

Unity through Music - Daniel Barron

Music enabled a level of bonding with my student Abdullah which to that day had not been reached by any other communication. This eventual connection began one day during a break in teaching; I asked my student what music he enjoyed. He was listed a number of American artists including Tupac, but his musical taste was much more diverse. In addition to the American artists that have an international following, he still enjoyed music from his home country. I asked him if I could listen to his music, and he eagerly agreed to bring in a flash drive to class the next day. Since the music exchange was to occur the next day, I set out selecting some essential American songs from my past to share. When the designated time was reached the next day, I was able to listen to a symphony of African music while I treated my students to the listening pleasure of Snow by the Red Hot Chili Peppers, The General by Dispatch, as well as with a few other classics. Such a simple exercise as listening to the music of another culture is significant. Even in the United States, approving of someone’s iPod selection is a deep compliment, while insulting their favorite artists is a deep cut. By enjoying Abdullah’s musical heritage, I was able to connect with a portion of his identity and approve of portion of him. Similarly, by listening to and enjoying my music, he endorsed a part of me. This simple exercise enabled a level of connection previously not reached.

Saturday, July 4, 2009

Images from St. Andrew's Refugee Center


Prof. Lo, Susan, and some of the Somali Students we are teaching.



A look inside our classroom, showing us in action.



Many of the students and teachers together before the beginning of an activity time after a long day of English class.



The group playing a game during activity time.

Clash of Civilization? - Susan Park




I met an Iraqi woman on the metro one day. As the women’s cart filled, I was forced to stand millimeters from the door. Standing next to me was this woman and her son. Somehow, we struck up a conversation and she asked where I was from. I told her that I was from America and South Korea. She eyed me and replied that she’s from Baghdad. I kinda got nervous at first because I did not want to offend her. However, neither of us were hostile and instead, we talked about her son and how long she’s been in Cairo. It relieved and amazed me that we as two human beings could interact so easily when the War in Iraq pits “Americans” against “Iraqis” and “Christians” against “Muslims.” And more than anything, the realization that to this woman Americans are the ones who destroyed her city and forced her to move to this foreign place was quickly swept away by the ease with which we talked. The one stop subway ride seemed much longer than the 3 minutes it usually takes and I felt as if time had actually stopped to grant us such revelations.

Perhaps when we are further away from each other as two countries separated by an ocean, perhaps when we have no idea what each other looks like in real life and the other seems less like human being and just some symbolism for the “other,” it is all too easy to hate and all to easy to formulate such notions as “clash of civilization.” But when two foreigners meet at an Egyptian subway, such notions as politics, media, and ideology all become irrelevant.

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Knowledge, Reign O’er me - Atif Mahmood


“Do you know any shapes?” I asked Mona, a shy, burka-clad, 18 year-old girl from Somalia. She looked at me with a blank look on her face. She had never heard of the word ‘shape’ before. So I drew a circle in her notebook, to be greeted with an enthusiastic nod of the head.

“Daira!” she said in Arabic.

I made a mental note of her revelation and could not help smiling widely. After a year of Arabic at Duke, I still did not know the names of simple shapes in Arabic. Mona taught me, and in an interesting role-reversal, the teacher became the student, the student became the teacher.

During break time today, I headed over to two other Somali girls, Asli and Sameeha. They love to talk, and I love to listen. I learnt how the UN gives them 200 Egyptian pounds a month since they are unaccompanied minors. But within a year or so, they would not be teenagers any more, and their stipend will dry up. Work is hard to come by in overpopulated Cairo. They have little options, and are uncertain about their future.

I changed the topic and started talking about Somali culture. We talked about food (I’ve eaten some Somali food cooked by the refugees here. It reminds me of Indian food, especially the samosas). We talked about wedding dances. We listened to some Somali music, and I translated two Bollywood songs from Hindi into English. (Apparently, Bollywood movies are popular in Somalia. Almost every Somali refugee I’ve talked to has heard of the Khans – Shahrukh Khan, Amir Khan and Salman Khan – members of Bollywood’s acting elite.) A few days ago, Sameeha and some her friends had taught me how to name various body parts in Somali. That day, they explained the political situation in Somalia as well (Wikipedia took care of stuff lost in translation).

Our small, dusty, cramped, ramshackle of a classroom would appear to be totally unfit for any learning. But for five hours a day, knowledge of all shapes and sizes (and languages!) reigns over this dilapidated place. My students, my friends, possess a wealth of knowledge I have yet to tap into. Sadly, our small, little, intellectual kingdom is destined for doom. With that realization, I hope we all can get the most out of this Duke Engage experience.

First Impressions - Shama Milon



Although it is not my first time coming to Egypt, my experience in the past two weeks has been completely different than my one-week trip to Cairo last year Not only is my purpose in coming here totally different, but also I have seen an entirely different Egypt. For instance, in my last visit I was shocked to find most women heavily veiled and men so disrespectful on the streets. I was also shocked by how dirty and old everything seemed. It seemed to me, that most people I saw on the streets were either very poor or American tourists. When I first stepped off the plane, I was ready to feel the heat and see the old and derelict terminal that I remembered all too well. What I saw was a new, shiny, marble-lined terminal it was completely unfamiliar. When we left the airport the heat did not bore down on me the way I thought it would. It was hot, but much more bearable than the humid Floridian summer weather I had just left. As we drove to our apartment, the run-down apartment buildings and intense traffic seemed normal and just like I expected, but I also noticed more luxury cars and passed by neighborhoods reminiscent of home. As we settled in and started to explore the area, I notice many women dressed much less conservatively than I had imagined. The men on the streets were also not as bothersome as they had been the last time I had visited. One of the most striking things to me on my last visit was how conservatively the women were dressed, for some reason it really bothered me. But being here almost two weeks, I’ve noticed that Egyptian women have a very distinct way of dressing themselves. Also, I though I’d be used to the fact that Egypt is a poor country and therefore there are huge inequalities between classes and socio-economic status. The most difficult way to come to terms with this was through our daily routine on one random day. It was our first day of work at St. Andrews and we went to lunch at a koshari place near by. After we had ordered, the bus boy came to clean our table. The boy was maybe seven years old. I almost cried when I saw him working. This was not the first time I had seen a child working, but it was the first time something like this had shocked me so much. When we left I gave the boy a ten- pound note, which to me was nothing, but to him so much more. Now I go to that koshari place everyday and eat there and everyday he’s working there. Seeing the boy, made me realize how much inequality and injustice there is in the world. I also realized that no matter what I did I could never reach everyone who needs help. It made me appreciate my life and the opportunities I had been given, but it made me realize how wrong it was that people like him can’t go to school and have to work and earn a living, where as I see people literally throw opportunities away everyday and can never appreciate what they have going for them. As cliché as it seems, living in Cairo has taught me to see my life in a new light and has helped me take more initiative in my work I’m doing here. Doing the little I can do will maybe make a difference in one other person’s life, and that is to help one or two students learn better English so they can achieve more than what there status has to offer them in this country, and that’s my objective for the next six weeks.

A Stranger’s Hand in the Metro - Yuqian "Dawa" Liu


The metro stopped. I supposed that I should be getting off at this station because I saw the other DukeEngagers getting off. However, I was stopped, by a huge figure standing in front of me. I thought she was standing at the door because she was getting off as well, which was proven to be false--- she did not move. The door of the metro shut behind my fellow DukeEngagers, leaving me alone in the metro. My head went empty as I watched Susan turned back and looked at me with her mouth open! It was my first time taking the metro in Cairo! Staying with the group was the only way to survive here as first comers, I thought, but I was left alone in the metro, not knowing what to do. I felt like a lost child. The metro started moving; two Egyptian men jumped out of nowhere and started trying to open the metro door for me so that I could get off, inshallah! I help hope in my hands as well. I did not care if it was dangerous or not—I had to get off and be with my fellow DukeEngagers, I screamed inside. “La!!!” said the huge figure standing in front of me and held me back with her firm hand. The two Egyptian men were still trying to open the moving metro door for me. I was still trying to get off. I had to get off! The hand held me tight and pulled me back again. “XXXXXXXXXX ! XXXXXXX!” she continued. The two Egyptian men gave up as the metro moved on. My fellow DukeEngagers became farer and farer. I looked at the hand holding my hand, and then her face. She was still speaking to me, “XXXXXXXX!” She seemed to be in her 50s, dressed in traditional Egyptian clothes like any other Egyptian women are: long gown that covered her feet, a scarf that covered her head and neck. I could only hear one thing from her “XXXXX wahid (One) XXXXX…” She went on talking in her language as if I was having a conversation with her that she did not really care about. I smiled at her and did not know what to say. Shama called me on my cell phone and told me to get off on the next stop and take the metro back and they would be waiting for me at the right stop. I was relived. I started reasoning myself--- of course this was not the end of the world, I could go back, or call Professor Lo to find me! I was mesmerized by my own thoughts when I was pulled out of the metro by the hand that had been holding me the entire time. We got off on the stop, and she was still holding my hand. She dragged me to the stairs to the exit, still speaking to me. Still, I could only hear one word:wahid (One). We crossed the bridge holding hands. She dragged me to another metro that was coming from the other direction and gave my hand to a younger woman who happened to be standing at the doorway. She said something to the younger woman and the younger woman nodded and smiled at me and took my hand. I smiled back. When I turned my eyes to the doorway, I could not see the older woman any more. She was already gone.

Suddenly, I felt guilt running inside me. I felt guilty because I told myself that the Egyptian women were not friendly; because they never smiled at us; because they never said hi; because I did not understand why they wore heavy makeup in the heat that has been melting me. I looked around myself in the women’s cabin again. They all looked like the two strange Egyptian women who held my hand in turns…

I got off the metro when the younger hand let me go. I smiled at my fellow DukeEngagers and accepted their friendly laughter as well. We started walking to our apartment. I looked at my hand and found myself smiling.

Monday, June 29, 2009

From Mogadishu to Cairo – leaving home for a home - Atif Mahmood

Peace! Serenity! Freedom!

False promises? Shattered dreams?

Sitting in the plane, she watches her home fade away…

Freedom from famine!

Freedom from war!

Nothing is free in this world.

Oblivious to her plight, unaware of her soul;

People pass her by; no one hears the heart break.

She remains seated, dispirited, desperate…

Her journey’s just begun; she’s got a long way to go.

Where do you go now?

Alone, scared, and motionless.

Where do you go now?

Hungry, dejected, and faithless.

You recite from the Book, you dream of cambuulo…

Where do you go now?

There is no freedom without a home.

Step by step, she climbs the stairs.

She greets with smiles, she treats with care.

She bows down in prayer, she cries no more.

She’s not alone, she loves her own.

High up in her tree, she spots the ship –

She stays on ground, her home is bliss.

Saturday, June 27, 2009

My Experience - Amy Snook




Coming to Cairo, I had no idea what to expect. Generally when I'm anticipating something, I envision it in my mind until the moment comes when I get to experience it. I could not do this for my trip to Cairo- I didn't know what to even begin to envision. The only real image of Cairo that I had was one of deserts and pyramids, which is a large contrast to the reality of Cairo. Upon arriving here, I immediately noticed the air quality (poor) and the traffic (insane). I thought to myself, 'this is like L.A., only worse!' Tons of people, bad traffic, and smog is a definition that could fit either Cairo or Los Angeles, but after being here for a while longer, I have realized that there is just no comparison. Admittedly, the food took some getting used to, and I'm still extremely cautious about eating fruit or vegetables or anything that could have been touched by the tap water. I ventured out and tried Koshiri, a traditional Egyptian dish, and suprisingly really enjoyed it. I've also tried fatir and Egyptian pizza- the kind where they put eggs on it- and have developed a liking for both. The first few days here were overwhelming because they were packed with so many things to do, and so many orientations, but once we started to settle into a routine, I started enjoying it. On my first day at St. Andrews, I spent my lunch break observing the kids that were playing on the playground. I watched these refugees, mainly from Sudan, playing in their Catholic school uniforms and started to feel inspired. It looked like a normal playground in any normal school- lots of kids bounding around and screaming and playing games with each other. I don't know what I was expecting exactly, maybe I figured that refugees would be more depressed or subdued than your average child, but if anything it's the opposite. The kids at St. Andrews seem to have endless energy, and they always appear to be so happy. It's inspiring to watch the children who I assume have relatively little compared to us at Duke, and to see how enthusiastic they are. On the second or third day at St. Andrews, one of the little girls befriended me. Her name is Omnaya (I'm not exactly sure how to spell it) and she is one of the cutest, sweetest girls that I've met there. She comes to find me everyday and gives me a big hug and walks around with me, holding my hand. I've become really fond of her, and I really look forward to seeing her at work everyday. Another thing that I've noticed is that the kids at St. Andrews are extremely photogenic. I love taking photos of them because they have this richness that appears in photographs, and their eyes have such expression in them. I hope to take a lot more pictures while I'm here, and hopefully capture some really good moments. I really enjoy working at St. Andrews thus far, and I enjoy working with refugees so much that I'm volunteering at the adult after school tutoring program, and also to teach dance to some of the kids at the school. I have not started working at Awtad yet, but when I get there I hope to research various ways to empower women refugees. Well, that's it for now- it's time for class.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Experiences in Egypt - Yasmina Chergui

I started off today by heading out to AWTAD, one of our community partners, in Maadi. I took a cab over with Shama and Dawa, and unlike the normal exchange between us and our cab driver, after asking our cab driver how much it would cost, he responded, “you pay however much you want to pay.” I’ve really enjoyed being able to use the Egyptian colloquial that I know, during everyday routines, such as getting a cab, ordering food at a restaurant, conversing with people on the metro, just to name a few. For the most part, cab drivers have been friendly, except for the few that get angry when we don’t know the exact location of the place we are heading to. One thing’s for sure, most cab drivers either listen to the Qur’an, Um Kalthoum, or Abdel-Halim Hafiz. At least, that has been my experience.


When we got to AWTAD, which is both an acronym for the Association for Women’s Total Advancement and Development and the phonetic spelling of the Arabic word for “pegs”, we were kindly greeted by the organization’s director, Shereen. I really like AWTAD’s office so far- the staff is really nice and it has a very cozy and warm feel to it. We proceeded to the conference room, where Shereen asked us about our specific interests. She also gave another brief synopsis of AWTAD and what it does. As stated in AWTAD’s mission, the organization strives to “empower and engage the community, to mobilize the role of women as nucleolus development agents, through effectively leveraging Egypt’s social and human capital.” I indicated that I wanted to focus on AWTAD’s women empowerment component, so Shereen instructed me to work with Heba Ali, one of the organization’s staff members, on their mentoring program named, “Steps Into the Future.” Heba is a recent college graduate from the German University in Cairo, and she learned about AWTAD from her college counselors. Steps Into the Future (SIF) is a mentorship program that involves one-on-one training between a recent college graduate (or senior in college) and a highly experienced professional in their field of interest. The mentee, the college graduates, meet weekly with their mentors for a number of things including: coaching, role modeling, advice, support, and encouragement, in an effort to provide the mentee with a valuable learning experience. The program sounds great, and is still new (this will be its second year). According to Heba, there are a few things that need to be improved in the program, and she wants me to work with her on fine tuning the program. For example, there were instances last year where female mentees stopped showing up for sessions with their mentors because they got engaged and their mentors were males. Some of the girls felt uncomfortable meeting with someone of the opposite sex once they were engaged. Today, I started reading through the mentor and mentee packets, to get a better sense of the application process and the expectations from mentors of mentees and vice-versa.


The remainder of the day consisted of a trip to one of my favorite restaurants so far, Taboula, which serves Lebanese food. After lunch, we all came back to the apartment and rested before class. Though I am not entirely fond of having a three hour class from 6-9, overall, I enjoy studying Arabic while here. I like that the primary focus of class is on discussion because it’s really improving my speaking skills and I feel like I’m expanding my vocabulary. It’s also been interesting because the first unit we covered focused on poverty, and it taught me a lot of practical vocabulary for the work we’re doing in Egypt. At the same time, our discussions on poverty have brought my attention to poverty in Egypt and things I’ve noticed. As with most Middle Eastern countries, there doesn’t seem to be a middle class in Egypt. There are the extremely wealthy that drive nice cars, live in Giza, Nasr City, or Zamalek, own houses through out Egypt, send their children to the American University in Cairo, and only shop from designer stores. At the same time, every time I get inside of a cab, I can’t help but feel sorry for the cab driver when I realize that he’s most likely a father working hard to support his family. Cab drivers don’t even make that much, and yet they work most of the day and night. The other day, I actually saw a family living inside of a shack and that was really saddening to see. It’s also been very difficult for me to see children working at restaurants as water boys or servers, and not feel sorrow. I’ve also been comparing the standard of living here to that in the United States. It’s amazing to me that I can get a complete, delicious meal for under $5 here. In some cases, there are restaurants that serve traditional Egyptian dishes that cost under $1! As Prof. Lo was telling us, most security guards make around a couple hundred pounds a month (that’s equivalent to $40).

Monday, June 22, 2009

The Sacred Game - Atif Mahmood

Cairo is a very Islamic city. It’s called the “City of a Thousand Minarets” not without reason. Where we Duke Engagers live in Garden City, we can hear azans (the call to prayer) from not one, not two, but three mosques. Taxis either have Umm Kalthoum, arguably the most famous Arab singer of all time, playing on their stereos or the recitation of the Qur’an. Men with heavy, moustache-less beards and prayer marks on their foreheads – signs of Islamic conservatism – litter the streets. Most women wear headscarves, and some don the full veil. For the Friday jumma prayer, some mosques become so overcrowded that a few people are forced to brave the blazing sun to sit out on the pavement or a patch of grass in order to be able to be within hearing distance of the imam. Many people become overjoyed when they hear that I’m Muslim and immediately greet me with assalam-o-alaikum. Most Egyptians are serious about what Allah wants from them, and many beseech Allah for help in times of need. And nothing epitomizes a united concern of 70 million people than a football game in which the Egyptian national team is on the brink of victory against a football powerhouse like Italy.

On Thursday, June 18, I came out of my Arabic class to hear the guards of an embassy erupt in cheers. I knew the Fifa Confederations Cup was going on, and that Egypt was to play Italy soon, but I did not know when. Luckily, the cheers of the guards made me realize that every single television set in Cairo at 10 pm at night was showing a football game. Along with Dan, I rushed to a busy street in search of a hookah café to watch the game in. We quickly found one – a narrow, shabby-looking place obviously geared towards the less fortunate citizens of Cairo. But the people were more than welcoming and brought out chairs for us to sit. I took a seat beside a nervous employee of the nearby gas pump who was smoking cigarettes incessantly. Over a green-apple hookah and a cold Fanta, I began watching the second half of the game. Egypt was up 1-0 and Italy was bent on changing Egypt’s fortunes.

Throughout the game, the people in the café kept praying to Allah. Distinctly Islamic phrases like alhumdulillah, masha-Allah, ya rabb, Allah-o-akbar etc. reverberated in the café. In the final five minutes, everyone was on the edge of their seats and had Allah’s name on their lips. And when the game was finally over, and Egypt had won, Allah’s name was mentioned yet once more, this time not for help, but in gratitude. I could not help thinking while sitting in the café and later on about how truly muslim Cairo was. When the camera focused on Egyptian players making the sajda (prostration) to thank God when they had finally won the game, I realized that Egypt does not revolve around the Nile, but around God. Whether they’re Copt or Muslim, rich or poor, most Egyptians take God seriously. This is one of the defining characteristics of the Middle East – God is everywhere and in everything in this region of the world, but a tad bit more so in football.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

What Now - Daniel Barron

“Why do you want to learn English?” I asked my Somali student on the first day of class. The answer seemed almost too simple. He wants to learn the language spoken around the world. This explanation is similar to my own reason for studying Arabic. A common desire to communicate unites us in our language studies. In fact, many similarities exist between me and Abdullah including a similar age, a common interest in soccer, and unfamiliarity with Cairo.

Had circumstances been different, we may have been lifelong friends, running cross country with our friends or, conversely, leaving our country without our families. Fate, chance, God, or any other reason could have caused our roles at Saint Andrew’s to be reversed. The book could have been flipped around in order that I could struggle to read English and Abdullah could attempt to teach English. But instead, I stand as the privileged American college student attempting to engage the world by teaching colors and prepositions in a small classroom filled with students.

Our summer program involving teaching English to unaccompanied minors in Cairo is only a fraction of the ministries of St. Andrew’s United Church in Cairo. Throughout the small complex, both children and adult refugees attempt to rebuild their lives through education in all areas. Most dream of moving to the United States or some other western country, but for now they continue to live in Cairo. I can only begin to wonder why I was so blessed with the opportunities I have been given. But perhaps this question is useless. Instead of focusing the reason behind the disparities in Cairo and around the world, I should focus on what I will do about it.