Just remembered

I just remembered that last year I was convinced that what the student kept asking for was his "homeboy chain," and I totally disregarded it until ten minutes later when I realized that he had given me a pound and I owed him his "one pound change." He should have enunciated better. haha. Since then, my friend Peter called my Homeboy Chain, and I called him Petey West Side.

I cannot explain how much I miss NUA. When people ask about Egypt, I'm just overwhelmed and don't know where to start and feel like there is something in me that I can't articulate, but it just feels so full. I'd do anything to go back. But I wouldn't go back to work long-term unless I was married--it messed with my head a little last year.

This was the beginning of a post I never finished

9/23/10 The most frequent question that I have been asked is, "How was Egypt?" and I start to lose people if I say anything more than two or three sentences, so I've shortened my answer to, "Good." I love it and I miss it and would do anything to go back, but I can't summarize my year in a word or two.

This past weekend Andrews had a retreat for returning SMs. We divided into groups of three, and then we each got ten minutes to talk about highs, ten minutes to talk about lows, and five minutes to talk about lessons learned. It sounded like a ridiculous amount of time, but it flew. I enjoyed talking about my students and the other SMs and the good times. But when I got to the lows, I cried for the entire ten minutes I talked.

The end of the year, Coming home Pt. 1

Unfortunately my good friend’s father died on the Saturday of graduation weekend. To show support for his family, I went with a couple friends to his city. When we got there, all of the men were sitting in silence outside of the apartment complex in two rows of chairs facing each other. I headed upstairs to mourn with the women. They were dressed in black, sitting in silence in the house. I kissed his mom and then went to his sister’s room to sit with her. There are four kids in that family, and it’s just so sad that the father died. I could name quite a few students off the top of my head whose fathers have died, and I attribute a lot of that to smoking. There were a few men that stood out to me who were in their forties but looked like they were in their sixties or seventies. I just hope that our boys correlate the early deaths with lifestyle choices so that they take good care of themselves. “Do you want to be alive to play with your kids?” Jessica’s grandpa asked the boy that came to him for help to quit smoking. I stayed with Olivia’s aunt who I had stayed with during Christmas break, and that was wonderful to see their family again. I really got to bond with Olivia that night too, and thinking about it just makes me miss her and the other girls so much. The following day we got to the bus station pretty early but ended up waiting a few hours for the next microbus headed to Cairo and for it to fill up before we could leave. I got back to the school just shortly before graduation began.

The graduation service that we attended was the longest one that I ever plan to attend in my life—that is until I go back to visit. Maybe the Egyptians don’t mind the length as much because they don’t feel the need to be quiet and pay attention like we do here. The way that the parents acted (talking loudly and getting up and moving around) explained so much of why some of the students act the way that they do. All of the SMs had gotten to be very good friends with the senior class president, and he gave an excellent speech. He is one person that I genuinely miss, and I definitely saw him as a peer and a friend more than a student even though I took away his iPod at the beginning of the year because he was listening to it in the ad building.  (He arrived in America a couple days ago and will be going to college with Michael this coming year. I can’t wait to see them both!) I am so proud of the graduating class. Some of them have had easier lives than others, but some have had unimaginably difficult lives, and it was truly a miracle that they had made it so far. Every student has their own story. It made me reflective about my own high school graduation where the people that you have lived with and grown with all go off to begin their lives, but the likelihood of the NUA graduates all being together again is much lower. There are a couple seniors that I plan to keep my eye on because I know that they will do great things. Their parents didn’t read to them when they were little and they’ve been to hell and back in their lifetime, but they have pressed on and are so determined to do great things. One Sudanese student has excellent English grammar and is going to be an English teacher and then go back to Sudan. I have noticed that the majority of the Sudanese students I have talked to plan to go back to Sudan to help their people. Humdolillah (Praise be to God.)


We were wearing Egyptian gallabeas, but we were still patriotic in wearing red, white, and blue. Krista told me that on the 4th of July she cried at almost every patriotic song, and it's not like Krista to be super emotional.


The last night that Jessica and I were in Egypt, all of the staff members got dinner and ate on a felucca (a boat) on the Nile. It was a wonderful stress-free bonding experience. Alec and I sang a wonderful a capella rendition of “I Will Survive” while others told stories and watched the sunset. Oh, what I would do to relive that night again. To be honest, I didn’t like Alec at the beginning of the year. He drove me crazy, and I just wanted to punch him at times but then would be even more frustrated because that would make me the problem (which I would have been). He ended up being the guy SM that I got the closest to that year, and I just loved it how God brought us all there to shape us and make us grow and force us to love and understand people that we wouldn’t immediately choose to be around. American, Mexican, or Egyptian—whether we kept a spotless bedroom and a filthy kitchen or the other way around, whether we understood the humor in students saying, “Who let the dogs out?” or whether we were taught to uncross our legs when an older person enters the room (out of respect)… didn’t matter. Sure, things are definitely more comfortable when you’re with people who are just like you, but I thank God for my wonderful Egyptian roommates and for the shocking generosity of the Egyptians I came to know and love (though I thought it was absolutely ridiculous and unprofessional that some thought they could skip or come and go as they pleased to staff meetings. Actually that would still drive me crazy, but I understand now that many behaviors are not “common sense” or universal and that there were never any bad intentions.)



When we got back to the school, we hung out at the Deckers’ until we had to go. I wish that there had been more time to say goodbye because it was pretty much a quick hug and then running out the door. I don’t know why we don’t say what we think and how we feel about people until something is over. A year, a life, a trip. A lot of times we think we have all the time in the world to wait to be honest with someone, and life catches us by surprise. A group of students and the rest of the SMs brought us to the airport. It was sad. I’ll leave it at that.

Jessica and I were so exhausted that we fell asleep on the plane on the way to Amsterdam before it even took off, which is strange for me because I absolutely love take-offs. In Amsterdam, we bought the cookies that we had fallen in love with in August. Going through security in Amsterdam… was an experience. We were sent in different directions if we were men or women, and… I was violated. Haha. This woman was absolutely sure that I had nothing potentially hazardous on me by the time she was done with me. I was shocked, and I felt stupid because whenever she touched my stomach I flinched and giggled because it tickled. I felt really immature, but I couldn’t keep from laughing. On the plane ride on the way to Egypt, we wrote letters to ourselves that we were going to read on the way home, and I was reluctant to read mine because I was scared that I had been to harsh with myself. I wish I could do a billion and one things differently about my year, but time doesn’t reopen. I was more compassionate than I thought I would be, and it was really cool to be able to answer the questions that I had once asked myself.

We flew into Detroit, where we were met by our moms. I was just quiet. The humidity, smooth ride, and green trees that we passed made me want to cry. I don’t know exactly why I was in tears—it wasn’t the fact that I was sad to leave Egypt, and it wasn’t that I was happy to be home. I just wanted to go back, and I was frustrated because everyone was living like Egypt never existed—not that they had the chance to experience what I had. I was angry and sad and just wanted to go back to normalcy—in Egypt.

I stayed that night at my grandparents’ house. When I got there I laid next to my grandma and just cried. I was grateful at that point that she is usually incoherent and doesn’t talk too much, because she just laid next to me and attempted to stroke my hair. Later we drove my grandpa’s Korean visitors up to Battle Creek to the E. G. White Estate. I saw a guy that I go to college with, and I instinctively held out my hand to shake his, later to realize that he was probably expecting a hug. I didn’t want to hug him. I didn’t even hug my male students goodbye (with the exception of three) because that’s just not socially acceptable. Being home was okay. The first place I went was to Taco Bell. The closest Taco Bell was in Dubai, and that was my biggest food craving all year. I came back to my room and remembered that I owned half of what was in there, so most of the stuff that I had forgotten about I put into bags and boxes to give away. After living out of two suitcases, I felt so blessed (and selfish, actually) to come back to my house. I’m scared of losing that feeling.

I felt very alone and idle last summer after I got home from camp, and I had realized shortly after getting to Egypt that I didn’t want to be alone again after losing a school full of people, a culture, food, mannerisms, and new family members that I had grown to love, so I decided to work at camp again for a few short weeks. I headed up to Michigan a few days after I got home. When I got to camp I was happy to see everyone, but I just wanted to go home. I just wanted to be by myself and take everything in by myself. We were standing around in our staff circle after the evening meeting, and everyone had their arms around each other. During the announcement time, all of the staff turn in one direction and massage each other’s shoulders, and then we turn the other direction. It’s kind of a funny and relaxing bonding thing. It was so weird, and I thanked God that I was between girls. I regretted coming to camp and just felt in over my head and incredibly awkward. The feeling was hard to describe. Because Jessica and I missed the first couple weeks (including staff orientation week), we felt like we went to bed last summer and then woke up with so much time gone by. I don’t know how to describe it. I just wanted to cry and go home. I felt very overwhelmed, and I was grateful that Jessica was there because we felt the same feeling that was impossible to articulate. I just felt even sorrier for her because she was much busier than I was and had to act like she was her normal self. Coming home was much harder than leaving home. After a few days, things got much easier though, and I was glad to be where I was.

One of the things that stood out to me the most was the amount of skin that I saw and the sexual immorality. The conference that we work for is one of the most conservative conferences within the church, with a pretty conservative dress code, yet Jessica and I were still astounded. Girls’ skin stood out to me like I had the eyes of a 15 year old boy—if I imagined what that would be like. I still notice how sexual immorality has pervaded the country, and I am grateful to Egypt for its perspective on the sacredness and preciousness of sex. That is definitely one positive thing that I gained from the Egyptian culture. Sexuality is not something to throw around lightly and for anyone, but it’s an incredibly special thing that is to be carefully guarded—and in America, it is definitely not. Just in the time that I was gone, I noticed the moral decline within the media. The media sickens me. I believe that the content on TV and in the movies and so much of the music that is popular is very responsible for the issues that many of our campers have. I am positive that there were not that many thirteen-year olds that had had sex when I was a camper. How are such young kids who still have to worry about greasy faces and awkward bodies (and still actually believe that everyone else notices their bad hair days!) supposed to make wise decisions and fully understand the value of what they’re dealing with?

I'm sure I've already overwhelmed you with how much I have written here, so I'll post this just as it is and finish later. Much love to you.

The Last Month of My Experience

The last month has been an interesting one. I went through a period of time—probably a couple weeks—where I felt like an utter failure. Nothing that I was doing was sticking in their minds. I was inconsistent and lacking control. It hurts divulging everything. I felt like I was a mess—completely disorganized and not measuring up in any area of what I was doing. Almost every day in 9B I would have an argument with a student. He didn’t bring his backpack to class and then complained when I marked his work late. Sincere anger. And then students would sit in their desks and sulk. “You are not fair, ya Miss.” I wanted to say, “Yeah, well you have no reasoning ability and are incredibly immature.” I felt like everything I did in that class was completely wrong. They really wore me out. Anyway, it was bad, and I was bad. I would catch myself crying over stupid little things that went wrong. I didn’t realize that it was mostly 9B that was my source, but I found comfort in knowing that later. Jessica, Krista, and I had a “you’re welcome” fest: I just spent an hour and a half ordering something for $400 for you on my parents’ credit card for them to bring to you, but you’re still complaining because they don’t have room for something else. YOU’RE WELCOME! You’re welcome. “I said that I would give you partial credit for your late homework IF you turned it in by 4:30. You came at 7:30, and I still took it, and now you’re complaining because I took off a few points. YOU’RE WELCOME!” I spent my whole study hall helping you, and then you storm off because I didn’t postpone the test. You’re welcome! “We took notes, did worksheets, wrote our own sentences for more days than we should have. I would have danced a grammar dance or sang a grammar song if it would have helped you. There was nothing more I could have done to teach the concept. NOTHING. And then you complain and blame me for doing so bad on the tests. You’re welcome for writing extra worksheets. You’re welcome for buying you all notebooks so that you could take notes. You’re welcome.”

I was laying in bed and felt so terrible about myself and how I wasn’t prioritizing and using my time in a good way. I could have been being a better influence on the students. I should have been praying more. I should have done this and could have done that, but instead I did something else. I was too much of this and too much of that. I started to break, so I called my high school math teacher, who is a very good friend of mine, and we talked until 1:30am. She saved me. I shared some of her wisdom with Krista and Jessica, who were also struggling. I realized at this point that I wasn’t anxious to get home because I was clinging to Egypt, but I came to the point that going home would be hard, but it was time.

My sister Tina came to visit at the perfect time. It was the break that I needed, and it was really good to see her. It was fun remembering all of the things that had once been so new to me—driving the wrong way down the road, the honking, the garbage, the mannerisms, the normal conversations that sound like fights, and the staring. The people here stare. When you make eye contact with them, they don’t look away. It’s more men than anything. It took a lot of effort in the beginning to remember not to make eye contact with them. They stare as if you couldn’t see them, and they don’t feel stupid or awkward when you make eye contact with them. Tina, who is less familiar with the culture and loves to do and say what is on her mind. There was a guy that was sitting across from us on the metro, and he was staring at us for the longest time. Some people stare with blank looks on their faces, but this guy looked like a total creep. Finally Tina stared at him and gave him the “what are you looking at?” kind of looks. She kept staring at him and looking at him like he was stupid until he looked away. He looked at my knees, and so she waved her hands in front of my knees, and put her hands wherever he was looking to make him look away. I was laughing so hard.

June 11

Beth left the day after Tina did. We miss her. The day that she was leaving, our English classes had a party together for her. It was so cute. That night we brought her to the airport.

There was an ongoing argument between a lot of the girls. To make a long story short, the argument was not settled and some of the girls were very upset and feisty. I offered to talk to them after school to work it out, and Pastor Tom later decided that everyone involved was required to meet with me after school. We were there for about two and a half hours. The reasons for being so upset were a bunch of misunderstandings and miscommunication built up over time. No one had bad intentions to begin with, but they felt hurt and didn’t communicate, and eventually everything exploded. I don’t even want to go into detail because I just get furious thinking about it, but two girls ended up being suspended for being “inflexible and belligerent.” They were the most illogical people I had ever dealt with in my life. There was absolutely no attempt to understand or ability to understand how someone else might feel. I have never met such hard and illogical people in my life. There are no words to express the depth of my frustration and my bewilderment from their utter stupidity. They were suspended for a couple days, and before they were allowed to attend classes again they had to apologize to the people involved. They came back with hard attitudes, so Pastor Tom sent them home for another day. The next day was the first time that they had apologized, and I was proud of them. We hugged them and then let things go.

I’m sitting here on the Deckers’ couch on the last Friday night at NUA. The four of us girl SMs just gave them our going away present for them. We took typical tacky pictures at the photography place in town and had the man pose us. We told them to pick whatever backgrounds they thought would be best. We just took down the huge painting over the fireplace and replaced it with our 8x6 smokey-faced picture. We have our right leg forward with the knee bent and are leaning forward onto it. Then we have dead serious faces looking off in the distance. It is hilarious.

I’m going to have higher standards of chivalry when I get home. So yes, the men get jealous and angry more easily than they do in America, but they jump up to offer women their seats, and I have never once paid for myself when I have gone outside the school with any of the guy students. The only time I ever carry my books during the day is to my 10:30 class. Other than that, the guys take turns carrying my books and talking to me on the way back to the staff room. They are so sweet and very respectful. They don’t use bad words or talk about crude things in front of any of the girls. It’s hard to understand because people in America think that the men here are crazy and controlling and chauvinistic, and yes, some are, but a lot of the reasons that they act that way is because they think that what they are doing is right. It is no man’s right to disrespect or look at a woman in a dirty way or say something to her that he shouldn’t, so in effort to support that, it ends up restricting some of the women’s freedom, but they believe that they are doing the right thing. We come with the idea that we are here to teach these people and that our way is better than theirs (and in a lot of aspects I still believe that our way works is more effective and/or logical), but we could definitely learn a few lessons from them too.
We just finished exam week. I was so busy this week because I was working on a yearbook project. One day I worked for eight straight hours on it without even stopping to eat. I was really stressed out. It kind of stinks to end such an experience with some of them by giving them a test that makes them hate me. Some looked up and would shake their heads and say, “So hard, ya Miss.” It’s exactly what was on the homework you probably cheated on and exactly what was on the review sheet that you were supposed to study from. Oh well. The tenth graders did pretty well. I was proud of them. They had a vocabulary and idiom section one day, and the other day they had a grammar and writing section. I had written three paragraphs out of a five paragraph essay and had them fill in the other two, using transitions, concluding sentences, examples, and the other parts that I required. They also had to edit many sentences that I wrote.

We had a farewell for the SMs on Wednesday night. In the farewells, the person who is leaving sits on the stage in a chair, and people come and say things about them. Mrs. Janet, the girls’ dean, had decorated the chapel, and they brought the six of us (plus Krista’s sister) up on the stage and gave us leis to wear. They have a way of saying things sometimes that seem… somewhat tactless, and we were laughing so hard. “Miss Sara is a good person for the students to come and tell their secrets to. She’s a friend to all of them. Well, she’s not a friend to all of them—just some of them.” Thank you? Haha. And some of the students said that I smiled at them in the hallways, and then one boy, who I’m pretty close to, said that he hadn’t told me all year but he hates my smile. He kept emphasizing that and smiling really big, and it was so abrupt that I assumed that he meant something more than what I was hearing. Another girl came up and said that I had a beautiful smile. This guy was now sitting in the front row and shook his head laughing and said, “No! The opposite!” We were all laughing so hard. Later this guy came up and apologized profusely and felt so bad. He apparently meant something different…? When one girl named Phoebe started talking, I started to cry because she is so sweet and I’m really going to miss her. Then we were told give a short piece of advice to the students. –Krista said to say that she is cool. I don’t think so, so I won’t lie.—Anyways, when I started talking, I started to cry because I told them how important it is that they give their lives to God because I want them all to be saved. Then we gathered around and prayed and sang this traditional going away song. The next day, a girl… whose mind is definitely outside the box and is hard to follow and loves to jump to strange conclusions… came up and said, “Oh Miss, you were so cute last night!” and then pretended to be crying and mocked me, “I just want you to be saved…” And then she giggled and kept doing it. She did that all day. Weird.

I'm a little nervous about going home. People can try to understand my stories, but it's not the same. I can tell stories or explain things to people, but they don't really understand why something is a big deal or why it's important or impressive or so terrible. I'm so thankful to have other Americans here that I can keep in close contact with after I leave. At the camp that I will be working at, we are required to wear a one piece bathing suit with shorts over it. That will feel so strange to me. Hugging guy friends when I get back will be so weird. Or, maybe it won't. Maybe I will just fall back into the way that things were before because I am used to acting that way in that context. I don't know. I don't want to forget though.

These last few weeks, I have felt very close to the students, and I have had so much love for them--even when they do things I don't understand. I just love them so much. I am going to miss them so much. Some made me promise that I wouldn't forget them. How could I?

This is graduation weekend. I’m clinging to these “last times”—the last time we buy tamaya from the man in town, the last time we take the metro, the last time we eat atz (lentil soup) in the cafeteria, the last time we sing "Jesus, Lover of My Soul" after Friday night vespers. I’m clinging to it all, and I’m very grateful for all of these times. I have three full days left.

Life Theme

I taught my ninth grade students about short stories after our unit on the past tense. We read many short stories and attempted to summarize them (fail), listed characters and their traits, setting, point of view, and theme. The theme was always the hardest part to figure out. After that we wrote our own stories and had to identify each part in them.

This morning Jessica had an epiphany. "Sara! I found my 'thing'!" We had found mine and Krista's a long time ago, but Jessica's was more of a mystery. Her favorite Bible verses all have to do with God's plans for the future. "I know the plans I have for you, says ths Lord..." (Jer. 29:11) "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will direct your paths." (Proverbs 3:5,6) All of her favorite verses are about committing our way unto the Lord and how He has blessed us with talents and how He had great plans for us even before we were born. She needs to hear that. The sermons that she gives and the worship thoughts for her classes are about trusting that God is in control. She tries to control her life by planning and planning, but the way that God fulfills her the most is by reassuring her that she doesn't have to... and she actually can't. She doesn't know how.

My favorite verses are about God's undying love for us and how nothing can separate us from the love of God. "For I am convinced that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come... shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Romans 8:38-39). But I also absolutely love verses that talk about complete and utter devotion to God and to purposes and letting no shame or opposing opinion stand in your way. "They looked to Him and were radiant, and their faces were not ashamed" (Psalm 34:5). "For a day in Your courts is better than a thousand. I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of wickedness" (Psalm 84:10). "The Lord is on my side; I will not fear. What can man do to me?" (Psalm 118:6)

I have this deep resonating theme in my life that basically says, "I am not worthy, but You love me anyway, so I will give myself fully and completely to You. I will not let anyone else's opinion sway me or make me feel ashamed." That is the theme of my life. That is who I am. That is how I feel with God, and I have realized that that runs so deeply into every aspect of my life. It resonates in my relationships with my friends and the people that I am drawn to. It reflects the way that I treat the people that I care about and what I want from them. It speaks of what I want in the person that I will marry and what I will need to feel fulfilled in my future career. I talk to my students about God's everlasting love and how He doesn't care where we've fallen and He doesn't care about the past. I tell them to make up their minds about what they want. Do you want God or not? Let nothing stand in your way. If you want Him, mean it. Do what you need. "Do you not know that whom you present yourselves slave to obey, you are that one's slave whom you obey, whether of sin leading to death, or of obedience leading to righeousness?" (Romans 6:16) So speaks my theme: "I would get tired of myself, and I don't know why You still love me, so I will cherish our relationship and devote myself to You. You give me what I need and can find nowhere else, and I am grateful."

So we all have different paths and different goals and come from different experiences and walks of life (even if we have grown up in the same house), but our life themes are different and are the underlying motives for everything. They're the reason why some simple things make us happy that no one else understands or the why we feel sad for reasons we can't immediately identify. Certain friends and settings make us feel comfortable though others can't understand.

Read the Bible so you can better understand yourself. In learning more about the One who made you, your eyes will be opened and you will be free.

Logic? The definition of clean. Flies.

I’m sitting across from this very cute Sudanese girl who always looks confused, pouty, and somewhat offended. Somehow she ended up taking the vocabulary test over chapters 6-10 today instead of 11-15 with the rest of the class. I felt really bad for wasting that time during class—I don’t know how that happened. Watching her take the correct test reminds me of an incident the other day. We have assemblies every Tuesday during the day for the entire school. The SA President was making an announcement about the race that we were going to have after school that day when one student raised his hand and made some comment about how we haven’t had basketball intramurals yet only because a lot of Sudanese students like basketball, and it’s not very popular with the Egyptians. Really? This student is somewhat of a silent instigator of the separation, but his comment was just ridiculous and addressed wrongly. Pastor Tom jumped up and restated what this student said to clarify how he was feeling because we will not have any racism on campus and we don’t want anyone to feel that they are being treated differently because of the color of their skin. Pastor Tom also defended the SA President and Vice President really well. Hey buddy, basketball intramurals has been the last sport every year… just because we haven’t had it yet doesn’t mean that we are against the Sudanese. (But then again I’m sure I don’t understand and am not completely aware of the ways that they are treated.) Some of the Sudanese students started a basketball league, and the one that made this comment told Michael that the league was for the Sudanese and the staff—so don’t you dare accuse anyone of anything. After that, some of the Sudanese students had that thought going through their minds, and this cute girl came and had the most absurd conversation with Jessica. She was saying that black people around the world have no value. “But (Name), our president is black.” “Yeah, but some people still don’t like him.” Seriously? That’s your argument? Anyways, she was upset because she was not one of the people chosen from her fine arts class to perform at the end of the year for something. Only two people in the class were chosen. Jessica said, “(Name), have you skipped any practices this year?” “Yes.” “Have you…?” “Yes.” “Have you…?” “Yes.” “Well maybe he only chose the people that really put in the most work and really wanted to perform.” “No, it’s because we have no value.” “Who is ‘we,’ (Name)?” No answer. “Okay. Two people were chosen. One is Egyptian and one is Sudanese, so why do you think that you were not chosen because you’re Sudanese?” “Because black people have no value all over the world.” There just seems to be a general lack of logic.
During Jessica’s conversation, I was having my own discussion with one of my Egyptian students at lunch. He was complaining because it is the harvesting season so some students are called to work more on the farm. The farm brings in about 25,000 Egyptian pounds during this season, so the work is very important.

“We are not animals, ya Miss.”
“Okay, I know that you don’t like to work on the farm, but the work has to be done. What do you think would be a better idea?”
“There is this machine that can do the work in one hour.”
“Oh wow! Do we have this machine?”
“Yes.
“The school owns this machine.”
“No. It’s very expensive.”
“Okay… well in order to use that machine, we need to pay a lot of money for it. We don’t have that money. So either students can work a little bit more on the farm, or everyone can pay a lot of money so that we can get this machine.”
“It’s not fair to have students who already worked on the farm work on the farm again.”
“But the work needs to get done.”
“Why did we buy those trees? We should have used that money to buy this machine.”
“We bought those trees because we will get money from them in the future.”
“Yeah, in five years! I will be gone.”
“But the trees are for the good of the school, so maybe that means the people after you.”
“But I won’t be here. We should get the machine.”

There have just been so many situations where we say no, and students will do it anyway, and then we try to discipline them and they have no idea why. “I said no, and you did it anyway.” “But I needed to study!” “Okay, but the point is that I said no, and you did it anyway.” “But I had to study!” “I said no. Do you understand why you are being punished?” “No. I had to study! There was no time. We had fine arts last night!” Okay, maybe he didn’t study. But his fine arts class was cancelled and I had passed by him playing ping pong a couple times. Some arguments are just ridiculous. I have never experienced this lack of logic before in my life. It is astounding sometimes. Of course I’m not speaking about everyone—just more than I’ve ever come across with people over the age of eight. And some of them are my age or older. It’s so strange. Some of the thinking is very self-centered. Interrupting is looked at as very disrespectful and rude in America, but here it means nothing. But I interpret that as saying, “What I have to say and do is more important than you, so drop whatever you’re doing and ignore whoever you’re working with to talk to me.” People don’t wait in lines. It’s like survival of the fittest in the line for metro tickets. To me that says, “I really don’t respect the fact that all of these people were here first. All I know is that I want a ticket, so I will just plow over all of them.”

This one girl missed my class because she was sick, and I accidentally gave back the rest of the tests before she took it, and I caught her studying one the guy's tests, so I took it away. I told the guy that I found his test, and he was the first student all year to actually be completely honest and tell me the whole story. Pastor Tom and Gladys said I could reward him for his honesty, so instead of giving him a zero and having Pastor Tom call his parents, I took 30% off of his test. He complained later. Seriously?

I never knew that “clean” was so relative and could actually be defined differently than I have always known it. Clean is taking a shower every day and brushing your teeth at least twice a day. Clean is cleaning up the kitchen when you are finished cooking and not leaving tomato juice and seeds all over the counter and bread crumbs all over the stove. In Egypt, clean is having impeccably clean finger and toenails, shaped eyebrows, hairless arms (for girls), and a clean bedroom. Some of the girls make little comments about our arm hair—I’m not Chewbacca. I have relatively nothing, but apparently it’s “dirty.” And if I have clothes not put away in my room I am worth talking about (probably because that would make us bad wives), but I would rather keep the kitchen (the place that we SHARE where bacteria and nastiness can fester—how’s fester for a descriptive word?) and have some clothes on my bed. It’s just weird. They might cringe when they see that I have short fingernails like a man, but I cringe when I see dandruff and know that they last washed their hair a week ago. (I hope that the way that I am talking doesn’t make it sound like everyone has a filthy kitchen and dandruff because that’s not the case, but it’s culturally very acceptable.) Every once in a while I get a little … can’t think of the word… but… I’ll give an example. One boy who jokes about marrying my sister assured me that he was kidding and said that he will not marry an American girl. I said, “Is it because we have hair on our arms?” and smiled really big and half-innocently. They looked kind of shocked and laughed. Yep, they think it’s gross. But then I use those opportunities to mention casually how funny culture differences are and how we feel like people should shower every day and they think that girls should be hairless. I kind of stick it to them jokingly, but it gives me the opportunity to justify my hairy arms.



Yesterday I attacked probably fifty flies with Krista’s flip flop. They were congregating all over the window and sink in the staff room, and I went to town. It was beautiful. A really sweet student that I get along with well came up behind me and said, "Miss, what are you doing?!" as I cackled and shrieked and smacked the windows. (How dare he spy on me!) I felt so successful and called some people in to show them my work. I’m feeling compelled to work again, so I will be going, but the flies here are stupid. They are slow and easy to kill (or maybe I’ve just gotten really skilled.)

Much love to you!

Krista's Arabic Vocabulary

This picture was taken on Thanksgiving. Jessica is on the left, I'm in the middle, and Krista is on the right.



Here are the things that Krista (the math teacher) knows in Arabic. She is a really good and logical teacher who runs a pretty tight ship. Things don't get past her, and she feels that it is her responsibility to teach these students life lessons--especially about responsibility and accountability. I love her. :) The first week of school she probably sent 20 students to Pastor Tom, and she won the award for collecting the most cell phones in the ad building out of all the staff members.

-"Why?"
-"Hurry."
-"Now."
-"Run."
-"Let's go."
-"Wait."
-"Saturday night only." (the only night that she will show grades)
-"Use your mind."
-"Because I said so."
-throw up (because it's very close to "squared")
-fart (She found this out while teaching geometry and saying, "If C is between A and B..." and everyone giggled everytime she had to repeat herself.)
-arithmetic problems (She practices them when she goes to students' houses.)
-numbers
-bambi, akhdar, aHmar, asfar, and all the other colors--It is her mission in life to make sure that every child in Egypt knows his or her colors. We didn't realize that that was emphasized more strongly in America than in other places, and there are some three year olds that don't know their colors.
-"Goodbye."

and

-"Photosynthesis." (She wanted to sound smart if an Egyptian person walked by and heard her saying that... most of the students don't know the word for it in Arabic though)

Zewak - Spring Break

Our first stop during spring break was in a village called Zewak, where at least 25 students from NUA live. It is in Upper Egypt, and it is very conservative. In Egyptian culture, a guest must at LEAST have a drink with the family that they visit and can't really reject food. If they do, it is taken very personally and is insulting to the family. We stayed in Zewak for only two days... and I don't think we could have survived any more than that. The people were wonderful. We learned a lot, and it really opened my eyes to where these students come from and why they think the way that they do. Here are parts of my journal entries. If I tried to just write about them in blogs, I would be overwhelmed with all the details that I would feel the need to include, and I would never end up writing anything.



Friday, March 25, 2010 between 7:30 & 8:30pm - Ashraf's living room
I am so full I want to die... and we haven't eaten dinner yet. Saeeda's house, Wael's house, Malak & Talat's house to Ibrahim N's house, to Wael's again, to Maged S's house and to Ashraf's. Next we will go to Romany A's.

3/26/10 12:04am -- on my bed at (student)'s house
Jessica ate so much she literally almost threw up. (Student)'s mom gave us mahshy when we came back from from Romany's dad's coffee shop. I found a fingernail in mine. Krista told me... (something personal) ... We laughed and then stopped ourselves because girls shouldn't laugh (or even be outside) in public. The Christian women stay inside all day--when Maryam opened the door for Beth and Krista, she hid behind the door--and when they do have to go out, they wear this giant black burka-looking thing. They pull it over their heads and grab two corners, which they hold open just enough to be able to see. It's almost scary looking. I never want to hear them criticize Muslims about covering themselves. Never. It angers me that girls are trapped inside all day. The police keep talking to Wael and bothering him for our information. If he pays them, they will most likely leave us alone.



At Ashraf's house, Michael said, "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no potatoes." It sounds dumb, but it couldn't be more true. I was SO full. It was miserable. And every strawberry, cup of Tang (mixed with tap water), or anything else questionable that we had to eat, we prayed for God's blessing. I pray that no one gets sick.

...I am so full.

I almost stepped on like 20 dead birds just laying in the roads today.

This reminds me of Maryam M's village, but I like how they treat women there much much better.

I feel like if I married a Zewakese guy and then came back to visit his family it could easily be "Not Without My Daughter II." The men get custody, and who would help me if my husband says not to? It was really scary to think about. The people are so sweet, but this will never be my home. ... This is rooted and ingrained in [them]... The man is in control. The woman cooks and cleans like there's no tomorrow and stays inside... I'm glad I'm here, and I hope to always be grateful for everything. I hope to never be the next Sally Fields. Oh God, please be with these women and young girls.

Sunday, March 28, 2010 9:45am - on the train on the way from Zewak to Luxor
I'm sitting across from poor Krista who just threw up in a bag. She threw up right before we got on the train right next to a bench. Mina was with her holding her stuff. They were all so sweet. They offered to let her come back with them and then to take her to a hospital. I went and got her a Sprite. Mina told us to not let anything happen to his mom. (He calls Krista "Omee" and "Ma," and she calls him "ibnee." It's so funny.)

Jessica and Michael had gotten sick on Friday night/Saturday morning. Poor things. We told (student)'s family that we didn't want any breakfast, but they made a ton and tried to force her to eat. Jessica was so good and made herself eat cucumbers, but they kept pushing. We finally told--Break. Krista just threw up again. Poor thing.--We finally told them that she threw up that morning... it didn't make a difference. (Student)'s mom said that she would feel better when she ate more. I downed Jessica's sweet hot milk (along with other juices throughout the day). Finally I got almost mean because I was straightforward in saying, "No, she cannot. She will throw up again if she eat or drinks anything. No." They didn't get it, and it was actually starting to make me angry. She'll get better if she eats more?

We went to Sabbath school at the SDA church. There was hardly anyone there. It was really sad. They need help down there. ...

Yesterday after church we went to Gad's, Mina F's grandma/relative's, Adeeb & Adel's, Benjamin Z's, Wagdy's, Mina E's, Wael H's again (which was like home base for us), and Shagia's for lunch and Mina S's for dinner. Shagia's was fun. There were tons of neighborhood kids that we played w/ and took pictures w/. We rode their horses, and Krista and Beth rode camels. It was fun.





We drank more Tang and Coke/Sprite than ever. At least 10 yesterday. I wanted to die.

I loved all the animals and students, but I could never live there as a woman...

I made a little boy cry yesterday when he hit me and I told him no, so he started to bite my hand. I grabbed his arm and tried to take away his palm branches (for Palm Sunday), and he cried and held a grudge against me... This four(ish) year old told Mina F that he was going to kill me outside. I was trying to make peace with him by showing him pictures on my camera. Then Mina told him to tell me no, so this little boy started to remember his grudge against me. I got mad. Mina had said to me, "But he's only a child," I said, "Yeah, and kids are smart. If you don't teach them to obey when they're young, they don't listen later." Me and the little boy made peace--I'll finish writing this later.

Field Trip to Alex

Monday, March 29, 2010 12:39pm – in the van on the way to… I actually don’t know where.

It’s spring break, and it’s just us seven SMs now travelling around in Upper Egypt with a tour guide who drives a really bumpy bus. That would be pretty fun except half of us have gotten sick this break so far, so it’s an uncomfortable ride for us. Poor Michael—he’s the worst right now.

On Wednesday, we took a school field trip to Alexandria, and we visited the famous Bibliotheca Alexandrina (which gets cooler every time I go.) I read a book about genetics and there was some super racist quote from Winston Churchill, which was just astounding. I also read part of Martyrdom and Rome from which I learned that martyrdom was pretty much unheard of prior to Christianity. Most Egyptians do not like to read (at all!) which has been quite evident throughout this year, so the library was a little much for some. Next we drove down to the beach and ate lunch. It was kind of cold out, but some of the maguneen (crazy people) went swimming. They were hilarious. They were running around and playing like little kids by burying themselves in the sand and running and jumping into the water. I like that they are really playful because they are adamantly opposed to being compared to “children” in any way. I have realized that in America, we really value children. We have been taught that it is good to be a kid when you are a kid. We’re not in a huge rush to grow up and become “men and women.” But here, there are eight year old boys working in the minibuses to count the money and hang out the window yelling the name of the city that they’re going to. They don’t eat suckers because suckers are for “sa children.” Cartoons are “for sa children.” It’s kind of sad. But ironically, many of the things that we consider to be behavior of children are found in the adults here—such as taking extreme offense from impersonal insults (like “None of your father’s business,”) and having incessant need to have the last word in an argument. I’m not saying that my ways and understanding are better, but those are what I understand and those are what I have seen.

We stopped at the beach in Alexandria and ate lunch there. The students had a really good time running in and out of the water—despite the cooler temperatures. They’re so much fun. They were burying themselves in the sand and throwing each other into the sea.

Oh, I forgot to mention that whenever we leave the school, everyone goes all out and dresses up. The girls go shopping for new clothes and do their hair. I can’t tell much difference with the Egyptian guys, but the Sudanese guys are all dressed like they stepped out of an MTV music video. They’re wearing big baggy clothes with a matching wide-brimmed baseball hat and bling around their necks. It’s just so funny to us SMs because they are nothing like anyone we’ve ever met who dresses like that. It’s kind of sad at the same time—that they idolize those famous rappers who stand for things completely contrary to what these students believe. These students, dressed like thugs and gangsters, wouldn’t hurt a fly and are some of the most respectful young people I have ever met in my life.



That night we went to this mini carnival/amusement part type of deal. Some of the rides were really fun, but there was one that made me feel like I was going to die. We sat on this circular bench with a back, and then this thing started to turn in a circle and bounce up and down. After a while, people were flying off the benches and sliding across the circle. They were bouncing around and landing on top of each other. Michael said that he was enjoying it until he saw the terror in my eyes. Haha. People were landing on my feet, my camera flew across circle, my jeans caught on this thing, I was clinging to the bars around the outside for dear life, and the ride finally stopped when one of our girls hurt her head and we motioned to the guy to stop the ride. I just laughed about it later thinking that there would be so many lawsuits about that crazy thing.



On the way back, our bus broke down, so we had to wait an hour and a half for another bus to come, and then we had another two hours to drive. We ended up getting back to the school at 3:30am. I have always been interested in personality types—especially the Myers-Briggs 16 types. Learning about the different personalities has helped me in America with how to deal with certain kinds of peoples, but fortunately that has carried over to Egypt despite the cultural and language barriers. Learning more about these has helped me in figuring out how to teach and how to deal with certain issues. It has also made me more aware of who I am and what kind of people I connect with well and the reasons for that. Most parts of the personality types are complementary (extroverts click with introverts, thinking with feeling, and perceiving and judging), but the ones that don’t really fit are the sensing and intuition because they are whole different ways of looking at life. That’s the conclusion I reached on that bus trip.

I have so much to write about from spring break… later.

Started but never finished - 3/23/10

I almost beat more students yesterday than any other day since I came to Egypt. In my tenth grade class, we were reading over and discussing answers to the chapter questions for The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Every two chapters they have a quiz, and I was making sure that they understand everything. One student, who by very specific circumstances is supposed to be mature and honest and responsible, sits in the very front row. His desk is pushed up against mine. I looked down, and I saw him with another girl's paper, copying the very questions that we were answering from her paper. Right in front of my face. I snatched the papers away, put them under something on my desk, and continued to talk as to avoid making a scene

I never finished writing this one.

Apparently the only time that I get to write blogs is during "Love Comes Softly" movies. Everyone dies and everyone falls in love. They enunciate clearly and say corny and fluffy things to each other. Here I am, sitting next to my husband Michael, and we are enthralled. This creep is sitting behind "Mrs. Lahaye," and I would like him to go away because I'm not over "Willie's" death yet.

Next Wednesday, we are going on a school trip to Alexandria. We're going to the library, the citadel, and some other place. We will also be able to go swimming. (I wonder how that's going to work out because swimming times for girls and guys at the school are different.) I'm looking forward to it. On Thursday night, we're starting our spring break by leaving for Zewak, which is the village in Upper Egypt where about 20 of our students live. I'm really looking forward to going because it will be so different from anything that I have seen. The guy SMs went to Zewak in November, and they came back with a lot of stories and new experiences. The students are SO excited for us to come, and I am really looking forward to see where they come from. Some of them... like Ashraf... I would just love to see where he comes from. He is the most sanguine ninth grader who is always smiling (and talking) who will one day be a smooth-talker, except for his grammar. He reminds us of one of those cute hyper little dogs that you can't help but love. He is one that just astounds me sometimes. I will be in the middle of teaching something, and Ashraf will come right up to my desk with a specific question on his homework that was due three days ago. Seriously? If he's talking too much during class and I subtract points from him, he says, "God forgive you, Miss." There's no point in trying to logic with him and convince him that God is not going to do whatever he wants God to do. I just love Ashraf... and all the rest. If I tried to explain these students to you... it wouldn't work, and it makes me sad. I'm so grateful to have other SMs here that understand. We joke about how we will just be able to text each other "Dawood" or "Chaleng" or any other student's name and we will crack up. Oh, I never want to forget.

Blunt ramblings about cultural differences I think are ignorant

I would like to vent. One of the girls told me that they were told in dorm worship that they shouldn't open their legs more than what looked like a 40 degree angle because then they might not be virgins anymore. Excuse me? They might not be virgins anymore? Man, I would hate to lose my virginity to... stretching or playing basketball or riding a bike... or accidentally falling down. (Was that too explicit/blunt/just rude/completely inappropriate?) You are a virgin until you have had sex. Oh goodness. I would like to thoroughly educate the world about hymens and how easily they can tear. Beth was telling us that during her rotation in OB, a baby was born with her hymen not in tact. Do not teach these poor girls that they are unfit to be married because they tore their hymen while running too fast. In very traditional Egyptian places, the parents come the morning after the wedding night to see the bloody sheet. Excuse me? Mind your own business. What is our way of determining his virginity? There is none. But I guess it doesn't matter what he does because it's not his fault if the girl is "asking for it." Leave the poor girl alone, and go home because you cannot see the sheet. I'm planning on talking to Pastor Tom about having a time when we can divide the girls and guys and just talk to them about certain things. I will tell Alec exactly what I want the guys to know. I want it very clear that a man determines the sex of a baby and that unstained sheets don't convict her of harlotry. I would like to speak very directly about hymens, anger management, physical and sexual abuse, female circumcision, and many more things. Oh poor girls. I've felt like such a feminist today. No... I feel like I'm just realistic. These girls are flabby and in terrible health because they "might not be virgins" if they actually move. Seriously?

I have come to see that a lot of people who are considered "good people" seem to believe that their goodness is allowed to be dependent on others' goodness. One girl told me that a guy was being inappropriate, and this guy is--so it seems--is one of the most upstanding guys in the school. She told him to leave her alone, and his response was something to effect of his actions being okay because it was her. That made me sick. I was absolutely infuriated. I vented and lectured whichever poor students were around me, and I ingrained in their minds that if they EVER EVER EVER EVER hit a girl, I would come back to Egypt and beat them. I was thinking that the only reason to ever get violent is because the person has no other way of controlling the situation. "My wife won't do what I want her to do or say what I want her to say, my boss yelled at me at work and I have no control, so let me hit my wife." I made it so clear that only weak men who don't know how to get control hit people weaker than them. (At least I made it clear that that was my opinion.) One of those guys asked me later to tell my class what I told him today. It gets me so worked up. I also considered that if a man is incredibly protective of his wife/girlfriend out on the streets, so protective that he would rip off his belt and beat someone for calling her a moza, and then he goes home and hits her, then his protection for her in the first situation was really only about himself. It was for his pride. No one should ever call his woman a disrespectful name. They had better not believe that he is weak enough to let someone do that. It reminded me of what I read in my book on Egyptian culture that my dad gave me to read before I got here. It said women should not sit in the front of a taxi. If they do, it is basically giving the cab driver permission to touch her leg because "no respectable Muslim woman would put herself in that place." I'm sure that not every guy feels this way, but it was just incredibly disappointing, and it makes me so very protective of my girls. I don't really get angry when it comes to things about myself, but if it concerns my sisters, my campers, my students, anyone who is "mine," oh... you'd better look out.

Tina is coming in May, and I'm so excited. I gave a worship thought on Proverbs 31:30--"Charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting, but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised." I said that the pretty girls will one day be hags, and when you've had a bad day at work and come home to screaming kids, would you rather have a beautiful wife or a best friend? When you're too old for sex (I didn't say this part) and you just want someone to talk to you and encourage you, will it matter if she was pretty when she was twenty? As soon as I finished talking about this, I said that I was so thankful that Tina is coming to visit. The first thing that they shouted out was, "IS SHE BEAUTIFUL?!?!?!?!" Ya merari.

Much love to all of you. :)

Resenting Jessica while watching some other tacky movie

Jessica is gone with her family, and we didn't feel like we could watch the next "Love Comes Softly" movie without her, and we are quite resentful. So it's some other Christiany/Inspirational movie. I have not paid attention at all so far. I see a lady jogging on the beach, and she looks distraught. She's watching a funeral. There's another girl with fuzzy red hat.

We took Wael to the airport on Wednesday night, which was really Thursday morning, because he was leaving for America to be with his wife. He has been a really good friend to me and has taken care of me and of my family while they were here. It was... sad. We rented a minibus and all went to meet him at the airport. He is from Alexandria, and he had a small group come to bring him to the airport. The farthest we could go was just to take him to the place where he checked his bags, and then we said bye to him quickly. I watched his mom. Then I watched his dad and his friends. I just wanted to cry for them because he's going to start his new life in a new place, and who knows when they will see him again. The weekend before he left, I was in Alexandria, and he and I stayed up until 5:00am on Saturday night just talking about the differences between America and Egypt. I told him everything from how they give everyone water at restaurants to how people in America see it as feminine when men cross their legs the way the men do here. I said that the police can get involved if a man hits his wife because the only reason for someone to hit another person is that they can't gain the control that they want. I told him about canned foods and how the hand motion that means "wait" in Egypt means absolutely nothing in America. I pray that everyone will... be okay. I just mourn for his parents and his best friends. Mourn--that word sounds so... Biblical and sad, but it feels right. (I overanalyze my word usage.)

I love sitting in his family's shop and watching them work and the people come and go. The guys who work that joke around and laugh and tease each other. Friends come and are greeted with kisses on the cheek and then are invited to take a seat by the small table with Wael's dad. Some little kids come to buy things for their families, and just about every man above the age of 10 buys a pack of cigarettes. I've sat in that shop for many hours, and have drunk MANY cups of tea, Nescafe, cappucinos, and most recently Turkish coffee. (Alec and I drank some while we were there, and he said, "Huh... you can almost chew it.")

By the way, Alec narrated my life during that trip. Everything that was happening he would narrate in a deranged and chauvinistic and even Michael Scott-ish kind of way. I would be drinking my water, and he would say, "Sara slowly sipped her water, congratulating herself on her wise choice of beverages knowing that she, above all, did not need any more sugar in her diet." I looked at him angrily and said, "She also practiced self-control..." He finished my sentence by saying, "...by choosing to drink water instead of sugary drink." So cayad. I don't know how to spell the word "cayad" in English, but a "cayad" person is a troublemaker or someone who likes to make people angry. The students always call Krista "cayada" because she's tough. I have become quite fond of this word and now use it all the time, especially describing Abanoub, one of my 9A students that I like to joke around with.

I plan for my classes and grade papers in the morning from 7:30-10:30 when I have my first class, and one of the student workers is named Peter. He is in 9A, and he has an amazing work ethic and loves to learn. If we use a word that he doesn't know, he asks us how to spell it and then goes to look it up later. His class was watching "Gifted Hands," a movie of Ben Carson's story while Jessica was gone with her family, and he actually took notes and is going to write a report on it--for fun! Oh, we just love him so much. He's quite a breath of fresh air from the "I-don't-really-feel-like-putting-the-last-letter-on-the-end-of-most-words-because-I'm-careless-and-anxious-to-write-my-next-word" kind of students and the "I-was-run" kind of students. ("I was run." Hmm... really?) Peter is a younger student (Alec compares his voice to that of Mickey Mouse) and he is just the sweetest thing. Anyway, Jessica and I taught him to call us "woman" in a really demanding voice (like an ignorant chauvinist) because it was so out of character. Krista was helping him with his math homework during study hall, and I told Peter to ask her, "What's my homework, woman?" She then whispered something, and he turned to me and said, "Make me a sandwich, woman." I busted out laughing so hard. No woman in America wants to be told that her only place is in the kitchen. That's so ridiculous that its only slap-worthy or laugh-worthy, but nothing else. Some of the students heard that, and though they don't understand why it is so funny to say that, they still do. For some it sounds hilarious, and for some it sounds a little to close to something they might actually say. :)

I haven't really gotten to the point of what I wanted to say, but I'm exhausted, so goodnight.

I'm forcing myself to stick with reading Jeremiah. I have tried to read it, but then I have felt overwhelmed by my lack of knowledge and then quit. The more that I read in one sitting, the more it makes sense to me. I read about Manasseh in Jeremiah 15 and then turned back to 2 Kings 21 & 23, and it's really interesting. Try to read a lot in one sitting.

Rain

It rained today. Normally when I would say that I would be referring to five drops on my shirt that I took a picture of to prove that it happened. No, it rained. There is no drainage system because it rains on average less than a centimeter a year, but the streets were full of puddles and were so muddy. We had gone to a students' birthday party in Ain Shams, and I almost wiped out every three feet on the way back to the metro. The metro was shut down because of the rain, so when they finally started running again, they were super crowded. As the metro approached, I felt a wave of heat and humidity billow out of the window, and we pushed our way on without any room to breathe. It was like a giant group hug, and the poles on the train felt wet from all of the humidity and body heat. It took a long time to find a minibus back to the school, and we were wet and frizzy and covered in mud. This was just so weird today.

Jessica's family is here. It has been really nice. They got here on Tuesday night and then on Wednesday Dr. Weaver and Justin (who is almost finished with dental school) checked every students' teeth. The Weavers brought a toothbrush, toothpaste, and floss for each student, and I am just so grateful for that. Some of them had some really bad teeth and complained that they were in a lot of pain, and they were so appreciative. Some students had been looking forward to the free dental check up for months. Most of the Egyptian students hardly brush their teeth, whereas the Sudanese have much better dental hygiene. Dr. Weaver didn't bring equipment to fill cavities, so he is giving the reports to Mrs. Peggy (the nurse practitioner) who will take them to get their cavities filled. Today, a lot of teeth were pulled, and the students seemed kind of proud of it. They were trying to talk with a mouthful of gauze, and everyone ask them questions excitedly. Funny. Mrs. Weaver brought a ton of jump ropes for the students to use. We NEED to get the girls moving. I am so worried about them because they do not move at all. Jeanie said that the students need a "good pair of shoes," and it's really important for the girls to have "a good sports bra." Well, good luck with that. :)

Jessica's grandpa is a retired cancer surgeon and worked with people who had problems related to smoking. He has also done clinics to help people stop smoking for over forty years, so he gave a presentation on Wednesday during our assembly. He showed a really graphic video with many interviews, and I hope that it scared a lot of the students. He offered to talk to anyone who wanted help quitting smoking and assured them that there would be no punishment. One of my friends asked me to come with him because he was nervous about going by himself. He is high-school age and has smoked for the past six years. Poor thing. So now I am a "support person," and I am responsible for talking to him at least once a day and holding him accountable for being honest. Hardly anyone went to talk to Jessica's grandpa about smoking, and I was disappointed about that. I know that there are tons of students who smoke and just don't get caught. They either don't want to quit, or they don't want to lose face by admitting that they smoke. Anything to save face. It's kind of sad.

I love it here.

Tina might come. I am including this in here so that she reads it and feels obligated to come.

Another "Love Comes Softly" Movie

Well this is the third movie of the series. Here I am between Krista and Michael watching this corny Christian love movie that has a new actress playing the girl. It's like with Home Alone... except worse (because at least all the characters were new in "Home Alone 3")

This past week... I don't remember right now. Hmm. Well, I discovered that many of the students in 9B can't write sentences. I've been teaching them grammar. I feel like I've been working so hard and forcing them to write and write. I've used so much repetition, but now when I have them do some other writing activities, and they can't formulate sentences. "Why did you go to Hergada?" "I is like to swimming." Ya merari. (Ya merari is an expression that they say here out of frustration and self-pity. They don't know what it means, but I know that "merari" means "bitter.")--Oh, this movie is almost painful. I can't tell if this antagonistic cowboy is trying to sound threatening or seductive. Anyways, I don't know what to do with 9B. The class has gotten a little smaller because some people have been moved out (up to 9A and down to ESL), but it's still such a mess. I feel like if they can speak proper English, they will write it, but oral activities are so hard with them. We have these Side by Side workbooks, which remind me of my old Spanish books, and they have many oral activities. They give an example and then new information to plug into the conversation. They don't know how to do it. It is a disaster. I need to keep working at it, but when it takes a student 234 hours to do one of them outloud in front of the class, I do some on the board and then have them try to speak them by rows. It's a rather egregious cacophony because the ones who get it try to show off and say it faster than everyone else and some kids just repeat the same word the whole time. It's a mess. They will not be ready for tenth grade at this rate. Is it my fault? Partly... but mostly not. I would usually blame myself, but not this time. Most of them don't put in the fffort. The ones that do are actually improving.

Tenth grade is going really well. After we split up the class, some of the students in my class came up to me and said that they were so happy and they felt like they were really going to learn this semester. They said that the class was so big that they never got the chance to answer. Now the really shy ones and the ones that felt self-conscious about the possibly being wrong raise their hands and try to answer all the time. And the ones that have a really difficult time reading seem to like The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. I have so much more control in my tenth grade class now that there are 17 as opposed to 38 last semester.

On Thursday night, our drama class performed a bunch of funny skits for the students. They were so cute. We did the statue skit, "My son/daughter is dying," the doctor's office, and some others. We also did one of those skits where there's a curtain and one person's face show but with another person's arms. We had two guys who were getting ready for school, and in the end they "ran" to class with their notebooks. It was so funny. They did a really good job. I noticed that none of them were very eager to get messy. The guy who was the statue in the skit shoved what he could in his mouth but only took a few bites of what he could. The guys in the hand skit didn't use toothpaste when brushing their teeth. It was just funny to see the differences.

After the skits, all of the girls came to our apartment, and we gave them chocolate chip cookies and juice while they watched "Mulan." We were encouraging their feelings of feminism and girl power, and they really loved the movie--even the ones that couldn't understand it. We're going to work our way through girl power movies and then hopefully work our way up to "Enough" (the movie where Jennifer Lopez learns to fight and ends up killing her abusive husband). That won't happen, but we like to joke about it and fantasize about making the girls feel empowered. I'm not one of those uber-feminist girls that thinks that she can build a house better than a guy and can do more push-ups, but we are of equal value and deserve to be treated like it. And I want to make these girls aware that there is a different way and that they are allowed to speak and actually leave their houses. I don't want them to be just like Americans--that's not my purpose in coming here, but I want them to feel beautiful and important and validated.

So all of the girls know how to do their cultural hip-shaking dances, though they would nearly die if the guys heard that they could. But before we started the movie, some were making some rhythms against the table, and some girls started to dance. Then they pulled some others in. I couldn't even begin to move my hips like that. haha. I thought it was just the funniest thing. There's a reason why I couldn't marry an Egyptian man--I would feel self-conscious of my pathetic hip-shaking dance skills. He wouldn't want me. I think that I'm just sounding confusing.

I really like Celebration of Discipline by Richard Foster. It is very practical and good. It has helped me in my spiritual life, and I recommend it.

I'm clinging to Egypt for dear life. My time here is slipping away so quickly.

Adding my own commentary to "Love Comes Softly"

Beth, Krista, Jessica, Michael, and I are sitting in the Deckers' living room watching the second "Love Comes Softly" movie. Krista is obsessed with these movies, and we drag Michael over here and assure him that there will be kleenex for him. These are very predictable Christian love stories written by Janette Oakes. Katherine Heigl is actually in the first two. So we're sitting here, eating incredibly healthy cereal that probably cost this wonderful family a fortune from Royal House. Krista and I are making jokes about Kimmy Gibbler from "Full House" and raspberry cordial from "Anne of Green Gables." I am incredibly entertained by detail-oriented people like her. I joke with Michael that he and I are married, and I've gotten good at making jokes where I am concerned about our relationship's health or possessive of him. I don't joke like that in frnot of the students, but one girl came up to me the other day and asked if he and I were dating. I laughed and laughed and said no. Then she asked if one of the students and I were dating. I laughed and said no. Then she asked if I had a boyfriend in America. haha. "Ruth, where did you hear these things?" "I don't know. People in the dorm." So the same people are saying all three. haha. I am quite amused. I think Alexi, Pastor Tom's daughter is annoyed with my commentary about the movie, so I will try to control myself, but this movie is just asking for it.

Tonight at vespers, Jessica played the piano (for the first time at song service!), Michael played the guitar, Trei played the djembe, and I sang with a senior girl named Mary. One of the students' favorite songs is "Every Move I Make," and they get really into it. It's so cute. I always help lead that one, and all the Sudanese guys clap from side to side. We also sang "Holy is the Lord," and I watched some of the Sudanese guys who are in the hand choir do all the motions that they remembered from before. I just love watching them. Pastor Tom gave an excellent sermon to the seniors tonight about love. It sounds generic, but it was so good. He said that he asked for preaching advice from this little old Dutch man who really surprised him with his skills, and the old man told him, "If you love the people, you will never preach a bad sermon." We dedicated all the seniors and gave them a pin with the NUA label on it.
'
My prediction is that the quiet man who just stole the plow from the daughter is good, and the nice-seeming guy who works on the train is a creep. We'll have to see. I was just told to shut up. Oh, this one is called "Love's Enduring Promise." I just compared the daughter to one of those hillbillies that refuses medical attention because the guy who she will eventually be in love with just told her that her pa could lose his life, and she said, "You're not touching my pa." Dumb. This girl looks like she's wearing a du-rag. I find this young country lad named Nate quite strapping. Hopefully Michael doesn't get jealous.

Tomorrow we are having a potluck for the students, and each of the staff members is going to bring something for them to try. We're making grilled cheese--very simple and very American. We spent an embarrassing 64 pounds on cheese.

Last night we had our Valentine's Day social, and the students went on a scavenger hunt and then signed giant hearts for each other. (These people are running away from bees, and my prediction is that the guy is allergic and will get stung and die from them just like Macaulay Culkin in "My Girl." Michael and I like Nate better than this guy with a bowtie.) On Sunday we're going to have the girls over and give them chocolate chip cookies. They don't really have cookies here, and chocolate chips are very hard to find. My parents brought me them when they came to visit.

On Sunday, we're going to start reading "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe." We're splitting up tenth grade because they are at such different levels. Beth is going to take the more advanced students, and I'm going to take the ones that have more difficulty. I am really happy about this because I really want to get in and nail the bad grammar. I'm just going to have some trouble. I feel like I would do things so differently if I was coming back for a second year. I feel bad for these kids who get all these first-year teachers who have no idea what they're doing until the second semester. (If this guy in the movie lived near me and was actually a nice guy, I would sneakily work my way into his life and marry him. For sure I would. That just reminded me that the students always say, "For sure she will like it." "For sure no." "For sure I will." They also always say, "As you like." I love it, and I've picked this up from them.)

We're having some problems at the school. Some guys were caught smoking. Smoking is a huge problem here--just about every guy here in Egypt smokes, so the school's rule has to be very strongly opposed to it. If they get caught, they're supposed to be kicked out. That rule started last year. (This bowtie man is so corny. He even talks in a really crisp voice like he would wear a bowtie.) So the guys are suspended right now until further decisions can be made. I really feel like the school is the best place for them to be, and I want them to be here so badly. I really feel like they need to be here, but I want to trust that God will allow whatever is best for them to happen. During the times when we feel like everything is wrong and we have nowhere to turn, we find that life does go on. We learn so much about ourselves, others, God, and life itself. So if they need to be at home for their characters to be shaped and molded, then sobeit. I just worry about them so much. Please pray that whatever is best will happen. I have noticed that the people here have a very difficult time taking responsibility for their actions. It's not so-and-so's fault that he got kicked out. It's Pastor Tom's... because Pastor Tom made him steal/cheat/lie/whatever he did. Taking responsibility for one's actions is one of the best things a person can learn to do.

Speaking of learning lessons, I need to learn some from this movie... maybe. Goodnight.

Egypt is normal to me :)

I haven't been writing too much lately because I have become "accustomed" (10th grade vocab word) to so many things that I feel like there is nothing to say. I don't really hear the prayers from the mosques anymore. Braying donkeys don't steal my attention. Cold showers are nothing to complain about. :) Guys holding hands with other guys doesn't seem weird to me. Some things, however, are still a little unusual.

There were a couple students in ninth grade whose English was just not at the level where the other students were, and they got moved back to ESL. These students could not keep up with the classes, and everything was just becoming more and more over their heads. To keep them in ninth grade would be a waste of everyone's time. Of course there was crying from the students, but one student's family got really involved. We reconsidered the move when we heard that the father hit the wife and was blaming her for her kid's problem--because I'm sure that none of it had to do with him.

Haha... right now I am in our apartment, but I can hear Krista counting down from 10 because by the time she gets to zero, they have to have their homework on her desk and be seated. The counting system is super effective. I feel like I treat them like middle schoolers, but hey, if they respond, then what's the harm in that? :) I found out that one guy, who I thought was 16 or 17 is actually older than me. Krista, Jessica, and I were laughing because we treat them like they are so much younger, when in reality they are about the same age as us. Sometimes we play student charades. (Shh...) We ask, "Who am I?! Who am I?!" and then dash up to an imaginary board and start doodling in the middle of our imaginary class. Alec is the best at impersonating people. We don't do it in a mean way, but it's just hilarious because their personalities are so distinct, and we would have never expected to encounter students like these. There was much less structure in the government schools, so they don't really know that it's not okay to get up in the middle of class and ask a specific question about their homework. Now? Really?

I've discovered that the best punishments are taking off points, marking people late, and giving the students sentences to write. I send tenth grade outside if we are doing a creative writing assignment or working in groups, and if I come around and see them working on something else, I say, "Minus one," and they freak out. Life is over. If they talk while I take attendance, they are late. "NOOOOOOOOOO, ya Miss! NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!" Sentences are so fun. Alec and I share the ones that we make them write to humor each other. "Oooh! You made him write that he will not 'peruse' around the class?! Good one!" (Alec is hilarious.)

We have a vocabulary unit test over five chapters tomorrow, so I chopped up paper to make flashcards if the students wanted them. I also gave out rubberbands. I forgot that I was teaching some six year olds. One guy shot another guy right in the face with his rubberband, and I told him that that was not okay and to give me the rubberband. "Why, Miss? ... But why? ... No ... Why? What's the problem, ya Miss?" He kept backing away and wouldn't give me his rubberband. I said, "Come on. It's not a big deal. Just give me the rubberband. If you don't, I have to write you up to Pastor Tom for insubordination." He still refused, so I have a discipline referral sheet to write. Haha. Are you kidding me? Give me the stupid rubberband.

I have class in a half hour. I am working on vocab sentences with 9B today. On those days, it seems like the ground breaks open and all hell breaks loose. I love them so much though.

Have a good day!

Weak

Being here has shown me how weak I really am. I thought I was strong. I thought I could be organized. I thought I could manage my time. I thought I could control myself. I thought I was becoming good at saying no. I have realized that I need to be incredibly careful in many aspects of my life so that I am not taken advantage of. I don’t feel like a pushover of a teacher, but I am softer and less structured than Krista and Jessica, and I really envy them. A lady that I recently met was telling us how incredibly important it is to not be manipulated or taken advantage of in any way shape or form. She said that her daughter was raped and was saying that there are certain tendencies in the women who get taken advantage of. Would I want to help a man who needed my jumper cables? Oh, of course. I feel like I am very aware of situations. I know all of the problems that have occurred, are occurring, and could possibly occur in the future (near or distant), but for some reason my logic does not impact my feelings the way I wish it would. I am so weak, and I am not to be trusted with my own life. I have fallen time and time again, and I continue to fall on a daily basis. I cannot be trusted. God help me. I need an escape. Help me to want to escape because I know I should want to but I don’t. Help my logic to outweigh my feelings.

I am using a new laptop (Shukran giddan, ya parental units!), and I hardly have any music on this computer so far. It is night, and I am in a very contemplative and rather melancholy state, and I don’t want to listen to anything other than Christian music. My options are Ray Boltz 400 or I can intersperse that with the 16 second “Give Me Words to Speak” introduction by Aaron Shust. But in all honesty, how can I listen to sappy love songs or bitter I-used-to-be-in-love songs when there are so many more important things in life. I should go back to clean our apartment. Beth, a new SM and recently graduated nurse from SAU, is coming to live with us tomorrow. She has been planning to come for a few months now, and I’m really happy for Krista because she and Krista have been college roommates.

I read part of the love chapter (1 Corinthians 13) at the beginning of my classes today, and some students wrote down where to find it. I absolutely love that. I don’t really think that it makes a big difference to them, but when I say that we’re only going to pray at the beginning of class, some beg for a verse or worship thought. It is possible that they are treating me like we treated Mr. Gammon in high school. Any way to get him off on a tangent about how he met his wife or how he fixed something would take up some of the class period. We were always so proud of ourselves. (Sorry, Mr. Gammon.) There are some students who always write down where to find the text that I have read, and I feel so encouraged by this. I would do anything to get them into their Bibles.

I have so much to do. I have to go.

Oh, by the way, some classes have switched for this second semester. I am still teaching two periods of English for tenth grade, but I am also teaching vocabulary and reading (1 period) to 9B, grammar to 9B, and a vocabulary and study class to 9A. The study part of that class teaches them how to take notes and figure out meanings of words from the context. I think that it will be good for them. I feel a lot better about my classes this semester. I feel more competent and am grateful for more structure in my classes, yet I have this haunting anticipation of feeling overwhelmed. It’s like I see a very distant tidal wave, and I am awaiting my death—wow, I am so dramatic right now. Haha. But I feel it. Ah.

The SMs took a group picture this weekend when we were at an American lady’s house (this meant that we could put our arms around each other… which is always something to feel rebellious about), and Alec laughed and said, “I have you trapped in my armpit!” and wouldn’t let me go. I will never be the same. I asked God to never let me be the same before I came here, but
that’s not what I meant.

I will never be the same.

Shidif sharuk shid, itaany gai bilhed. I don’t know how to spell this in English, and I can barely say it in Arabic, but I learned it when we were watching Egypt’s soccer team play Ghana for the African cup on Sunday night. It means something to the effect of pulling your hair (I don’t know if it’s me pulling it or you pulling your own hair—I think the latter) and the next goal will be at your head. Whatever floats your boat.

I am really weirded out right now, and I can't concentrate.

Skunk water, New semester, More effort, "bint el marhome"

One of my friends sent me the song "Thank You" by Ray Boltz. I had never really paid much attention to the words, but it made me feel really good. I always feel like there is so much more that I could and should be doing, and I am sure that everyone always feels like that. But I'm trying to step it up because I only have one more semester here. I want no regrets. The girls don't really play sports ever because the guys always are, so we started a sports day for the girls only, and I'm re-starting an optional early morning worship tomorrow. They had it last year, but it hasn't been going this year. I really like the song. I'm listening to it again. Some kids just seem hopeless and disinterested, but I need to know that God is bigger than my expectations or my supposed logic.

Will you please pray that God would rid me of some things and help me to stay focused. I'm kind of having some trouble, and I feel like my problems would just go away if I was better focused on Him.

And pray for my kids here. I love them. I don't know how to even tell you how much I love them. They're so funny. I now respond to "bint e John," "John," "bint e Gohn," "Juney" (an attempt to say "Johnny"), "ya bint el marhome"... and the list goes on. But they're obsessed with my dad. There are some that I just love, and I'm working so hard to teach them grammar because they should definitely be held back because they're not at the level they should be, but I want them to be caught up so bad. I have not put much effort into helping them outside of class. I always act overwhelmed, and then just waste my time tweezing my eyebrows or wandering around the room looking for chocolate, but I need to be more organized and focused. Krista helps them at study hall every single night. I admire her so much. I really love her. I got to teach her geometry class today, and it felt so good. And I helped kids with their math homework because I was on study hall supervision tonight, and I loved it.

It's so interesting how one letter can make such a difference in a word. I don't know what is inappropriate to write on here, but we can't help but laugh about their innocent mistakes. Crab becomes crap. Public becomes pubic. Test become teste. These poor things don't even know.

Some days when I'm feeling defiant, I feel like pretending to have fallen into a laying position on the grass. I can't lay on my stomach and read my Bible because girls can't lay down in front of guys. To be honest, sometimes I wear shirts that I know the Egyptians girls would consider too low. The Sudanese girls might not, and nothing is showing, so it's kind of a jab of defiance.

For some reason, when I am explaining new vocab words, a lot of the examples that I give have to do with relationships, and I think that I am unconsciously feeding their curiosity. But now that I realize it, it's not so unconscious. I explained that people kind of "linger" when they say goodbye to the person they like. "Would you want to marry a person who is 'uncertain' that he loves you?" etc. - - When I explain words, I act them out as best as possible so that they can better remember them. It's fun. I was acting out "panic," and I started shrieking and pointed and yelled "haraamy" (thief). I Also shrieked and backed into the board and pointed at an invisible mouse on the floor. Alec just stuck his head in the door and then left. - They're so cute, and they like each other because they're normal. They play this game on Thursday nights where they stand in a circle and hold hands, and then two people go around and hit two people's hands. They have to run opposite directions and race back to the original spot. Why do they play it? So that they can hold their boyfriend or girlfriend's hand. So cute.

After a little while, the water that we get from the Deckers' starts to smell like a skunk. It has gone through a reverse osmosis filter, so it's really good water, but it just reeks. I'm not quite sure why. The tap water has a disgusting amount of iron it. Trei (Pastor Tom and Gladys' son) took a picture of their filter after a month. Oh boy...

I said something yesterday and caught myself after I said it. "One nice thing about living in Egypt is that you can punch your students." Wow, that makes me sound like a crazy person. I don't really punch them, but the joking around here is more aggressive. I sat in the staff room and watched Om Fady (the cafeteria lady) chase Benjamin (our serious, mild-mannered SA President) around the staff room hitting him and laughing. He would run away and pull a chair in her path. It was hilarious. In one of my classes yesterday afternoon, one of the guys shook my hand and it had a thumb tack in it. He laughed, and I punched him in the arm and told him sternly that that was really rude and he shouldn't do that. He giggled and ran away. Jerk (for lack of a better word). It hard to find a line between teacher and friend. I am a teacher in class, and I like to make class fun, but I also want to get things done. But if out of class I am a good friend that they can talk about their problems to and just hang out with, it is hard to completely separate the two. I was realizing that as a teacher, there is always a barrier that you have to keep up. If you take it down, you make yourselves equals. (At least at my age)If I show that I am vulnerable just like they are, then I am more their equal than a teacher, which makes it hard. But sometimes I feel like I need to be seen as their equal (which I am) to really be effective. I don't know. It's a fine line. In the class, I try to make sure that they don't cross any lines with me. I have to go.

I have had a big log of a splinter stuck in my foot since last Saturday night, but it's too big and too deep for me to get out by myself, and I'm too foffy (wimpy) to have Mrs. Peggy cut open my foot. So I'm just waiting until my wonderfully made body pushes the foreign object to the surface of my skin. Then I'll get it.

God bless you.