My Life Here

I took this picture out the window of the microbus yesterday afternoon. It just gives you a small idea of what it looks like outside the walls of the school

This is Wasseem and Mario - they are two of the "squirrels" in ESL. They're both from the village of Dahasa. Wasseem absolutely loves to sing. It's so cute. They're both very outgoing and work hard for their grades. A sponsor has been found for Mario. I'm still looking for one for Wasseem. His father died, and that makes it very difficult for the families in a patriarchal culture. I wish he was smiling naturally here. His smile is SO big and really sweet.

These are the ESL students' memory verse books. They get a new memory verse every week. Some of them are artistic, and some, as you can see, are the stereotypical guys who couldn't care less about aesthetics and crafts. At the very beginning, they understood almost nothing in English, so I drew a picture on the board of a book and tried my best to explain that we were making a book and they would add a new page every week... but for some reason many of them got the idea that I wanted them to draw a picture of a book on the front of their book... haha. Oh well.

The senior class planned a day where they arranged for all of their classes to be outside. They also all dressed up nicely in black and white and then ate a special lunch outside together--chicken! I love the class spirit. They're so much more unified than when they were in ninth grade.

Meet our Student Association! Jackline (treasurer), Peter (vice president), and Ashraf (president). I agreed to be the SA sponsor, and I was worried about having to follow up with them a lot and remind them of their responsibilities, etc, but they have surprised me with their dedication foresight. I'm really proud of them. I'm also proud of the student body because the tenth grade class president and the girls' representative (new position thanks to Ashraf!) are both Sudanese. The wall between Sudanese and Egyptian has come down so much in the last few years.

The Student Association sponsored a trip for the students on a Saturday night to go on a Nile Cruise for a couple hours. We had a talent night on the boat, so this picture is of Chol, Deng aka "Shibly," and Steven rapping about NUA. Steven's was in Arabic, so it sounded pretty cool.

Me with Saeda and Lina. I taught them ESL in 2009, so I just feel so close to them. Saeda said she remembers my big poster that said "Good morning" and "My name is..." They're so beautiful.

Joseph (ESL) and Joseph (10th grade)

A soccer team from an outside Sudanese school came to play our boys. Soccer is a huge deal here. It's the main sport in Egypt (and in the world), unlike the US, which has many different sports that are a big deal... which makes none of them really as big of a deal as soccer here. We won!

Me at the Bent Pyramid in Dahshur. The angle changes from 54 degrees (I believe) to 45 degrees halfway through. It is believed that the pyramid may have collapsed had they continued at the same angle. This one is older than the pyramids of Giza.

I am cayada. God's love is deep.

On Sunday night I walked back to my house and saw two students there who come and ask for help sometimes. I did not have the time to help them then and didn’t feel like telling them I couldn’t. But this time they didn’t want help. One is a boy in ESL named Ashraf. His English is pretty poor for his class. He was a day student earlier, and I think he was just overwhelmed and didn’t try. He then moved into the dorm and seems happier and more motivated. I’d started tutoring him during study hall every once in a while—oh his English was SO bad. He knew next to nothing. He has been showing improvement though, so I’m glad that he’s not completely in over his head. Anyway, Ashraf had a bag in his hand and had Sameh translate for him. Ashraf said that he had been very discouraged and wanted to leave NUA, but then I talked to him and helped him and he felt encouraged because he knows he has a sister here. He gave me the bag, and in it was a little statue of St. George holding a lamb. Different. But really sweet. Sameh had asked for my picture a while ago—I wasn’t sure for what. But on Sunday night he gave me a black mug. He told me to boil water, so I did. When I poured it in the mug, my picture appeared on the side of it. It was really sweet for him to go out of his way like that. He was really proud of it too. He is very good, but I have to pray for patience with him sometimes.

I had a good conversation with a tenth grader named Mina yesterday. Last week he had brought up the idea Heaven will be boring. I’ve explained to him that all his mind can wrap around is what he knows here and now, but he has absolutely no concept of Heaven. From there we started talking about hellfire and how long it lasts. And I showed him several verses and explained that eternal suffering is still eternal life and that it’s the punishment that lasts forever, but not the suffering. We jumped around to different topics and questions that he’s never found satisfactory answers to. I was really thankful for the wrestling with God and the Bible that I went through in high school because now I feel much more capable and comfortable answering difficult questions. I feel prepared and I wouldn’t be if I didn’t have to struggle myself. But beyond the moderate satisfaction he got to his answers, I realized that he falls in the same category as so many people in the world. They believe they are always messing up, which means they’re constantly letting God down. They know that God “loves” them, but it is different than any other relationship they have, so “love” is kind of undefined. They believe they’re going to be lost anyway, so they just accept it and enjoy their lives here and now. I told him of God’s incredible love for him—in the most realistic way I could express it—and I told him what grace means and how he cannot do anything to make God love him any more or less. Even the “good” people are not righteous enough for God’s standards, but that’s okay because Jesus’ blood covers us. Humdolillah. One of the other boys that’s a lot like him, Mavdy, came over and listened and then asked some questions. I was so thankful that he was there. There are many of these guys here that are free thinkers, very quick thinkers, somewhat naturally rebellious, and really enjoy their friends. They do tend to get in more trouble, but they’re good guys. Personality Dimensions-wise, they’re pretty green-orange or orange-green (NT & SP for Myers-Briggs). But they’re so good. And I really appreciate them. And because of their natural bucking against authority, they feel like God must also be disappointed and annoyed with them too. Doignadsiofn! (“For You created my inmost being. You knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Your works are wonderful; I know that full well.” Psalm 139:13,14 BOOM!) I told Mina to come to me when he has questions, and he seemed pleased with that. Humdolillah. I’m thankful to be here.

I’ve been pretty excited about my junior and senior Bible classes. There is no subject I’d rather teach than Bible. We just went through a good study about what the Bible says about dancing because they had questions about it, especially in regard to the school’s policy. I feel like I helped them to feel empowered, hopefully like they could study things on their own. Or maybe know how to go about studying things. After break, we’re getting into talking about marriage. I feel like Mrs. Peterson, my own high school bible teacher. I was talking to some girls tonight, and they mentioned something about a man hitting a woman. I seemed to give off a strong opinion, and that sparked a conversation. They said that it’s so easy and common for a man to hit his wife, especially in Upper Egypt. When he does that, it kind of asserts his authority and makes him like a man. I said that God gave him a bigger body and stronger muscles to do good—to protect her—not to use them against her. And if he isn’t responsible enough to be a man, he should probably lose his man parts… But that would mean just about all of their dads would be eunuchs. One of the girls was saying that a man will hit his wife so hard that she’ll fall to the ground—and I am sure she is speaking from her own family experiences. Then the girls started talking about how you can’t trust men because they act one way, and then when they get married they become completely different people. Saeda said that her aunt was engaged to someone who had said that she wouldn’t have to wear this big black thing (the Christian equivalent of Muslim-woman clothes, where instead of putting it on your head, you have to hold it over you and hold open a small slit in the front to see through). After they got married he started hitting her and insisted that she wore the black thing. I am going to be teaching them very much in depth about red flags in dating and about domestic violence. The girls were so pleased with America when they learned that a person can be sent to jail for hitting his wife. Saeda said that a guy here at the school hit his girlfriend, and the girlfriend just accepted it. Saeda said that if that is happening when they’re only dating, it will get much worse in marriage—I was very proud of her insight. I pray that these precious girls would be physically safe in the future and that the guys that they end up with would treat them well. They’re so sweet. And I pray that the guys would be self-aware enough to recognize where their anger is coming from and how to go about handling it. These guys are good. There is a lot of aggression—it’s a very aggressive culture in general—but I know many of the guys very deeply. And I believe that if the students are taught good things, they can improve much. The same goes for raising kids. I believe that most parents have good intentions. Many of them just don’t know how to go about doing things—or they have never seen a good example, so they’re doing the best for what they know. I’m very much looking forward to teaching them what to look for in a person—good things and red flags, fundamental differences between men and women, and principles for raising children. “Nanny 911” is my favorite show, so I’m going to use clips from that show to illustrate my points. May God give them wisdom and guidance.

There is a word in Arabic called “cayad” (or “cayada” for females), and it describes someone who like to make people angry. Said in anger, it is an insult. Otherwise it’s okay. I really really enjoy being cayada. I am not exactly sure why, but I get so much pleasure from being intentionally irritating or difficult. A friend told me on skype the other night, “I was thinking the other day, you’re the closest thing to a bully I’ve ever had.” I don’t know why I am so proud of that. Anyway, now you understand cayada.

I’m learning more Arabic. I’m trying to be intentional about it. I can understand more than last time, so I’m happy about that. I’ve also been better at putting sentences together. Yesterday the senior class president, Peter (who was one of my good friends when I was here last time) made an announcement in Arabic to the seniors about how they’re going to play the staff in volleyball and to wear red. When he was finished, I went up to him and said in a cayada voice, “I am going to wear aHmar (red) tomorrow.” “Ya miss, no.” “Yes. I am going to wear aHmar. All the staff will wear aHmar.” “No, you cannot!” And I just beamed at him. We played a couple hours ago. Both teams were wearing “aHmar.” They all just left for home leave. There is a Muslim feast on Friday where they slaughter tons and tons of animals—beautiful sight—and school is cancelled then and for the next week. We’re going to see some stuff around Cairo, and then next week I am going with some others to visit students in Zewak and Tatalaya (near Asyut, for those of you familiar with Egyptian geography). I am really looking forward to it. I pray that the students would all be safe. We take praying for traveling mercies very seriously ever since the microbus accident two years ago.

Love you all.

I am rich.

I was at Pastor Tom and Gladys' house tonight with Austin and Jeff, and we were deciding where to go for the upcoming break. We want to visit some students' villages and do some other things. We were talking about who lived where and where we could stay, and there were some that they said we should not stay with. Why? Because the families are too poor, and it would just wipe them out to have American guests stay at their houses. I have such a hard time taking from them anyway (though I want to please them by accepting their generosity), but taking so much from their families just hurts. There are so many students with so little money. One family apparently had the door on their refrigerator break, so it was/is(?) leaning against the fridge for months because they couldn't afford to fix it. The dad works so hard for that family. Just thinking about how much these people need makes me embarrassed of how much I have. I want to give more than I receive. I pray that God would help me to be selfless. Who am I to be born into such a good family and to have so much? I have carpet, air conditioning, a freezer, microwave, bed, good pillow. I have lots of clothes, though it doesn't feel like a lot sometimes. I am so blessed, and that the realization makes me feel very restless.

Pastor Tom said that there is at least one person crying in his office every day about not being able to pay their school bill. There are so many people in need. If you are able to help anyone, let me know. I will give you information about the student and a picture. Even $20/month is very helpful. Feel free to email me.

"Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, and in everything give thanks..." 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

I'm proud of them.

Sabbath, October 13, 2012 2:00pm

Things have been busy but good lately. I am so proud of the ESL students because they understand so much more than when they first got here just over a month ago. Some had panicked faces when I asked their names at the beginning of the year, and now they can understand quite a bit of what I’m saying if I use very simple vocabulary, hand motions, and an occasional Arabic word.

I’m having a hard time with the idea of leaving in December. I am supposed to go home to my normal life and just continue. And my core resists that intensely—not the going home part, but the part that is me just moving on as if none of this exists. My best comparison is to an ended relationship. It hurts incredibly deeply to leave, but you know that you must find a new normal. And knowing that time heals is fiercely bittersweet because you want to be okay, but the thought of not being as close to someone or something that was once your world is such a broken thought. “Broken” meaning, messed up… or not the way that things were supposed to be. Coming home is inevitable, and I love home. I miss home. But I just don’t want to let this go. How in the world will I let go? This whole world is here. And it’s not just a person or two. It’s 160 plus the ones that have finished or dropped out plus the sound of the mosques and the donkeys and the familiar hallways and smells. I hold on to things very deeply, and it’s hard for me to let go. But I will. Enough, that is.


Bassem is a senior that I taught in ninth grade. I have always liked him, but he hasn’t always been the easiest student. He seemed pent up with deep thoughts and emotions, and just unsettled and angry. It comes very naturally to me to see and believe that there is a lot of good in people, or at least the potential for good. I’m very thankful that God has given me an empathetic heart, and Bassem has always had a special place in my heart. Anyway, I remember that in ninth grade, he was assigned to work with another student in class, and they were having some sort of a scuffle and were both too proud to do a class-related activity together that they preferred to be sent to the principal. Stupid. The other night I was talking to Gladys, and I was saying that I was so proud of him because he seems much more mature than he used to and he was up front translating for Pastor Tom. She said that he has changed so much and that one time he reacted in some positive and unexpected way. Pastor Tom asked him, “Bassem, what happened to you? Where did you learn that?” “From you.” Tears just rushed to Pastor Tom’s eyes.

It’s times like that that make up for the illogical student who stands up to give a contradictory diatribe about how the teacher is unfair followed by a standing ovation from the rest of the class. It’s times like that that make up for ESL boys trying to fight, having to be held back by other classmates the one time that we go outside to sing songs and do something different for Bible class.


After study hall in the ad building, I was by the water fountain by one of my eleventh grade students. I felt like I should stay and connect with him just for a second by asking him how he was doing in a tone like I actually wanted to know. He said he was fine and told me that he was so excited when he heard that I was coming back because he had heard from the other students who had had me before that I was a nice and good teacher. That surprised me but made me feel good, especially since this guy and I don’t really connect in class at all. He came to me the next night after punching a wall. So I took care of his hand, and tried to talk to be as understanding as I could. I asked him what he does when he’s angry and some other questions. I asked him if he talks to anybody. He told me that he’s not really close to anyone here. I told him that I would listen if ever he needed someone. And he smiled at me. And I felt his trust.

There’s a girl in ESL here who bothered me at first. She wears smoky eye makeup and in the rare times that she would make eye contact, she would close here eyes halfway like someone next to a bonfire and her head would ever so slightly bobble around. What are you doing? I spent a while trying to figure out if there was something wrong with her or if she was just strange like that. Her English is probably the worst in the entire class. And her shyness and insecurity are obnoxious in that she almost refuses to try to understand English and will ask questions through other people. She didn’t want to say something out loud in Arabic but wanted to speak through a friend. I told her no. While seeing other sick girls in the dorm, I have had the opportunity to connect with her. We don’t talk at all because her English is just as bad as ever (poor thing is about to drown…), but she makes eye contact with me and smiles. She likes me. I love her.

With my juniors and seniors I have been teaching them about confrontation and about self-defeating habits. I taught them how to use I-Statements (I feel…, It hurt me when…, etc.), to not use superlatives (always, never, everyone, all the time, etc), and some other things. One boy told me very frankly that he wasn’t going to use any of this stuff in real life but is just studying to pass the class. I told him that that’s fine because it’s now in his head, and he will benefit greatly from just being aware of it. I worry about this student a lot. He so much trapped inside of him. He’s just a big ball of hurt, and I don’t know what happened, but I want him to be okay. Hopefully God can use me to help him. I feel like the forgiveness part of our class will be incredibly difficult but potentially groundbreaking.