Bugs, Money, and Lovely Students

I took this picture out the window of a microbus while driving from the school to the metro station.

I cleaned lizard poop off my kitchen floor this morning. That's a new one. He lives under the fridge. I don't really mind because he's not crawling on me, and he probably eats bugs in our kitchen.

I love all of the students--even the ones I don't know--but there are a couple of the ESL students that make me so excited to be around. There are two that are really tiny and excitable, and if I had a papoose, I'd wear them on my back. One boy is named Akram. (He's the one who broke his arm a couple weeks ago.) There is a retired couple teaching here, Chuck and Janet Schlunt, and last night Janet told me that every day Akram asks how old she is. She said she tells him 600. I laugh every time I think of that. He speaks so little English, that it probably took him a while to understand what she said. Akram, his giant casted arm, and another ESL boy named Ghandy (same name as Ghandi, but pronounced more like "Randy"), were raking our front "yard" this morning. I tried to tell Akram that Mrs. Janet told me that story. I said very clearly and slowly, "Mrs. Janet said every day you ask her, 'How old are you?'" He responded, "I'm fine, thanks." I said, "Mrs. Janet told me that every day you say to her, 'Andik kem sena?'" He answered, "Sixteen." First of all, I'd put money on you not being sixteen because when we were at the doctor I heard you answer, "I don't know. Sixteen." Secondly, you look twelve. Third, I wasn't asking you how old you were. Eventually he got it though. He is so cute.

This is Taylor, Akram, and me the night before we took him to the doctor for the x-ray. I had wrapped up his arm and iced it, and he had left it wrapped for a few days without taking the ace wrap off at all... So when I took it off his upper arm looked swollen, and I wasn't sure if the fluid has just accumulated. This was his form of a sling. :)


Yesterday afternoon I was called to come to the girls' dorm because one of the students had somehow cut her foot open in the cafeteria. The girls' dean, Ms. Janet, had cleaned it and wrapped it, but eventually the bandage was soaked with blood. Ron and I went to the dorm, and the cut was deeper than I had been led to believe, but it definitely wasn't as bad as it could have been. I cleaned it with betadine, and Ron held the skin together as I put wound closure strips on it. This poor little girl was trying to keep it together but couldn't, so she cried into her friend's shoulder. Then we wrapped it up and asked her if she had a clean cotton sock to put over it. She didn't, so Ron went home and got one for her. I'm still occasionally surprised by how little some of the students have. What would it be like to not have a sock? I slept at the girls' dorm last night, and they were SO cute and acted so honored that I was there. They treated me with the typical Egyptian hospitality. As I was leaving this morning, a girl was walking to the dorm, and her flip flop ("ship ship") was broken. I made some comment about it in passing, and she said she didn't have any other ones. I take so much for granted. And part of me doesn't know any better because I don't know any differently, but it's good to have my eyes opened. When we took Akram to the doctor for an x-ray of his arm and the doctor said it was broken, he cried a little bit. I thought that maybe the idea of that was just scary to him and he didn't want a cast, but I would guess that a part of that is also for financial reasons. The doctor's visits, x-ray, medicine, and cast supplies cost him about 160 pounds (about $26). The most that one of the students can make in one hour of work on campus is 2.50 LE (~$0.41), and most of them don't make that. I asked Akram, and he said his father is a farmer, and I know that the farmers don't make very much money.

Just now I smashed a beetle between my sheets. Good time to change them, I guess. The bugs are nothing like they were when I was here last. At one point I had had 170 mosquito bites on one leg. My legs looked like I had small pox. We used to sleep with sweatshirts on and tie the hood as tightly as we could over our heads so that they couldn't bite our foreheads or buzz in our ears while we were trying to sleep. They're nowhere near as bad this time. I know that every once in a while, some shady truck drives in and sprays stuff around the campus. Not ideal, but I guess better that way. Fortunately malaria isn't a problem around here. I did wake up at about 3:30 this morning while sleeping in the dorm because I was maniacally scratching my legs and ankles. But that has been the extent of it.

The ladies of Villa 3 - Maryam, me, Mary, Taylor, Mary, and Bethany (my roommate)


There is an eleventh grade student that I have known since he was in ESL. He is and always has been incredibly motivated to learn and has very much stood out among the students. He is quiet and thoughtful and very considerate. He loves vocabulary and has excitedly brought me big lists of words for me to explain to him. It seemed like he got them straight out of the dictionary. When I came back to visit when he was in ninth grade, I remember that some of the words were "premenstrual" and "prophylaxis." I laughed to myself. It would have been inappropriate and really awkward for him if I told him what premenstrual meant. I don't remember what I said. He really has a love for learning. Anyway, he recently dropped one of his more difficult classes, and when Mrs. Gladys asked why, he told her that he doesn't have time to study. Through further questioning she figured out that he works three jobs on campus so that he can afford to be here. There are some students at NUA that I would feel comfortable raising money for or sponsoring myself, but I can't think of another student I would advocate for more than I would for this student. He has worked very hard as long as I have known him and will definitely make something of himself. He has a very good heart. If there is anyone reading this who would be willing to help sponsor him, please let me know and I'd be happy to tell you more about him. Any amount at all--even $10-20/month would help tremendously.

Please pray for one student who was expelled this past week. He allegedly violated one of the no-tolerance policies at the school. ("Allegedly" is not implying doubt.) I think that he is a good kid. It is always sad having students leave because there's no real way of keeping track of them. And I can't reach them or be a good influence on them or talk to them or even just see how they're doing. Anyway, he was really torn up about it, and I just wish the best for him. And it's too bad because then the last two full years he spent here were a waste because NUA graduates receive an American diploma, not an Egyptian one.

"He has a fever in his stomach"

I don't have much time, but I thought I'd update briefly. Things have been going well. They've been picking up too. Last night I stopped at the ad building during study hall to get something and was mobbed by sick/supposedly sick students the entire time. I had one boy with chest pain, one with a mysterious rash, lots of sore throats, headaches, congestion, earache, etc. I've recently had a lot of guys with sprained ankles and wrists. They're all too cool to use crutches though.

I've been pretty busy lately. Teaching four classes and being the nurse. But it's good. And I've learned a lot. I went to give one of the boys in ESL medicine in between the classes, and a bunch of the other ESL students came over and were saying they had the flu, etc. ("The flu" to them is apparently anything--fever, congestion, sore throat, headache...?) Taylor said that after I left the class just went crazy. She has the lower end ESL students who hardly speak any English whatsoever. She said they were fake coughing and sneezing and saying, "Miss Sara!" "Ana ruah Miss Sara!" She said that someone "tripped" and fell dramatically on the floor and someone else ran into a desk and toppled onto the floor and acted all hurt. They were making so much noise that the students from the classroom across from hers were all staring to figure out what was going on. It apparently took ten minutes to calm them down and shut them up. I was laughing so hard when she told me, and I'm smiling really big as I type this. How funny is that? "Whoops! I just ran into a desk and fell over"? I avoided study hall at all costs tonight. When I had to go see a couple students for follow up, I went around the back to find them and stayed far far away from the library, where the ESL students are.

Yesterday I had a really meaningful conversation with one of the students I had taught in ninth grade who is now a senior. His English is really good, and he is quiet, thoughtful, and just good. We talked for a while about life and our personalities and worldviews, etc. I haven't had as many deep conversations with students, and I felt like he and I could relate to each other a lot. He told me that when he first came to NUA, he was so nervous and everything was so new to him. He wasn't doing very well in his classes, which was so unlike him. But he said that Jessica and I made him feel like himself again. He just expressed in a very articulate and deep way how much he appreciated us. That made me feel so good. If I look back at my blog posts from 2009, some of those times were the most trying and low times I've ever had. This student told me that he wanted to tell me something. It was only him and me in the staff room at this time, and I hadn't expected it but then was filled with anticipated horror, "Oh no... what if he's going to tell me he's in love with me..." (I've had a couple students tell me that in the past and I really didn't expect that from this one, but I got incredibly nervous and prayed that that wouldn't be it.) Then he said very earnestly, "I own you." Pause. "What?" "I own you." My racing thoughts were trying to interpret that: "Oh no! Is he saying that I belong to him like he's trying to be romantic?! What does that mean?!" And then it clicked. He meant to say, "I owe you." Al humdolillah (Praise be to God.)

Last week, there was a problem with one of the water heaters in the girls' dorm at about 10:30 or 11pm. It was making really loud noises--I'm not sure what was happening exactly, but apparently it was really scary. All the girls ran out of the dorm freaked out. And the heroic boys dashed out of the dorm, running across the center of campus to rescue anyone in need. Crises are handled in two ways here: panicking and fainting. It's a school rule that the girls aren't allowed to faint. There was too much fainting before, so Peggy said that they'll have to see a doctor off campus before they're allowed to come back if they're going to faint. Anyway, a couple girls fainted, and the boys didn't know what to do. Chris, one of the SMs, told some of the confused and worried boys to get her water. To drink. They ran and got the hose and sprayed her down... hahaha! I was taking prayer requests the next day in class, and one of the guys said, "I want to thank God because we were heroes," and he smiled proudly. (He wasn't one who hosed down the girl.)

There are many funny stories. I'm sure that they'd be funnier if you were here with me and knew all the people. Much love to you.

A little heightened

We've been told not to leave the school for a while. The US embassy has been closed for the past couple days due to the protesting. I am praying that God's peace comes to the Arab countries because I fear that this may spread like the revolts in the winter/spring of 2011. Those problems were between the people and the government. This time the problem is anti-American, so that could affect us more directly. Ron Miller, the vice principal and Peggy's husband, said that during the revolution they could hear gunshots going off at random times during the night. He said that people made fires in the roads, and the people that happened to build a fire in front of the school asked if NUA was having any problems and offered to help if anyone was bothering us. There were some people over the wall on the other side of the campus that also offered their help if we needed anything. I believe that Nile Union Academy has a neutral or positive reputation in the town here, which is a very good thing. But I'm not naive enough to feel too confident of that. The sounds outside in the town sound the same, and that's a good thing. There are more protests planned for tomorrow night (Friday). I expect that there might be some tonight as well. Friday is the Muslim holy day, so their weekends here are on Friday and Saturday. So please pray for the safety of the Americans in the Arab countries and for the families of the four who died in the attack on the US embassy in Libya.

I need wisdom for how to go about dealing with a certain issue on campus. I don't have much experience with that, so I hope that I can help the students that are struggling.

Toward the end of my last class today, Pastor Tom came into the room and asked me to come with him, and he was composed, but it seemed urgent. My mind jumped to the worst. He led me in his office and said that the former pastor/boys dean, Isaac, and his family got in a car accident today. Pastor Isaac's brother and sister were in the office on the phone with them. Pastor Tom called me in there in case there was any medical questions I could ask and instructions I could give as they drove to the hospital, which would take them about an hour and a half. They were most concerned with their three year old son Michael, whose nose had been bleeding. From the information I was given, it sounded like the injuries were relatively minor, which is amazing because the car had rolled and they weren't wearing seat belts. God was really looking out for them. They're good people, and I'm just very thankful that they're okay. Ron drove Pastor Isaac's brother and sister to their home village about 4 hours away to go see them. I'm just so thankful they're okay.

Looking for an excuse to see the nurse/Embassy stormed/Rambling nothings.

A student walked up to me and said most awkwardly, "Ya Miss, you had me from hello." Thanks, Taylor. haha. Apparently she said something to him, and he responded, "Don't break my heart, my achey-breaky heart," which he remembered from when I was here last. I'm very proud of most of my footprints. Taylor walked up to the ad building one time, and one of the boys said, "Ya Miss! You are dressed to kill!" and she was completely taken aback. haha. At least they've learned better than what someone told Alec: "Mister, you are dressed like a killer."

Many of the students find reasons and ways to be sick. I think that when Peggy comes back, they won't have such petty complaints. I shouldn't say that for sure because at that point they will be more tired of school. But I know that as of now, many are just looking for excuses to talk to me, so they find something minutely wrong with them. "Oh no... That's too bad... You know, the best thing for that is to rest it when you can..."

http://edition.cnn.com/2012/09/11/world/meast/egpyt-us-embassy-protests/index.html?hpt=hp_t1

The US Embassy was stormed on Tuesday. The American flag was replaced with a black one with Islamic messages on it. It was in protest of the release of a movie that was thought to insult the prophet Mohammed. Which movie is unclear. Bethany, Phil, Austin, and I went into Cairo on Sunday, but since the protesting at the embassy we haven't gone outside the walls of the school. Gabal Asfar is relatively quiet and safe, but we're just being extra careful. In this regard, I wish I was a man and has the freedom to leave when I wanted to. I feel safe here.

Sometimes at night I walk the dirt/sand roads around one of the fields in front of our villa and I just pray. Tonight it was really good for me. God has always been very present with me in Egypt. It has always been good for processing things. I think well at night. I walked at night last time I was here too. Tonight I walked and prayed and felt and thought. The distant sound of honking horns and street noises, the quiet campus, rows of corn, and the familiar paths were healing. Then I listened to "10,000 Reasons" by Matt Redman as I walked. I love that song.

The sound of donkeys braying sounds painful. They sound like they're being strangled, and I don't like it at all. The weather has been really nice lately. Well, today was. Last week I had the familiar disgustingly sweaty lower back. It was like deja vu. But today was really nice.

There's a gecko that lives in my kitchen. I've seen him run under the fridge a few times when I've walked in.

Second Week of School

This is now the second week of school. Things are going well, and we’re starting to adjust. It’s been the easiest beginning of the year since the Deckers have been here, and it’s their fourth year. There’s just some confusion at the beginning with English and math placement tests.

I could not have charaded the story of creation more than I did with my ESL students. “Firmament” was a fun one. I know next to nothing in Arabic, so I used my hands a lot. “Water” (at the ground), “not water” (in the middle), and “water” (above me, which I then showed as raindrops falling). SaH? (Do you understand?) And I showed water, and then sucked in my cheeks and put my hands to my face like fish gills… Absolutely ridiculous, but it works. I was able to somewhat explain that Eve was taken from the rib meaning that she is not to rule over Adam nor be trampled under him. Today in class I had Saeda, one of the 11th graders translate some more points that I wanted to make sure that they understood. It’s a Bible class, not just an English class where they learn Biblical words, so it’s important to me that they learn about God. There are four girls and 20 boys in the class. The Sudanese students speak pretty good English when they come, but their writing isn’t as good, so unfortunately in classes where all of ESL is together, they have to put up with classes like mine. Unfortunately I am already starting to “speak ESL,” in other words automatically switching one big word for several little ones and being more expressive to get my point across. The students are so cute! I can’t even stand it sometimes! There are some boys that are 14-ish, but they look like they’re 10. And they have skinny, linear little bodies and eyes that are full of light and high little voices. Taylor described one as “half squirrel” because he has a skinny little body, round face, and is bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. And the ESL students haven’t learned the rules/ways at NUA yet, so they talk out of turn more—in Arabic, and usually about their utter confusion. I don’t enjoy them talking out of turn, but they’re just so cute and little. They also probably haven’t had much interaction with girls other than family members, so when one of them asks me a question (even if they don’t speak any English…), five or six more crowd around them draping their arms over each other, interrupting and attempting to explain in one or two English words. It reminds me of the seniors when they were younger. These students are just so funny. I wish that everyone could just see them. I have two ESL students that are good friends, who follow me around more than most. Both of them speak somewhat better English, and I explained that they were in my “bubble” today. They’re sweet. But I can tell they’re just looking for any excuse to come talk to me.

Tomorrow in the 11th and 12th grade Bible classes, we’re doing personality testing, and I’m really excited about that. The semester is split into thirds—awareness of self and others, marriage, and children.

Ashraf, one of my seniors, told me that it’s time for me to get married. Jessica is married. Now it’s my turn. When I go back to America I need to get married and have children. It’s time. I’m 23. Oh dear…

I played the guitar for song service Friday night and Sabbath morning. I pretended to be Jessica.

One of my ESL students came to me with a toothache last night. He had a lot of pain and a swollen submandibular lymph node. I gave him Tylenol and figured that we’d give him some kind of penicillin but wanted to check with Peggy for the normal toothache/infection protocol. So we went into town and got him some amoxicillin. I felt like such a doctor. I’m smiling proudly as I type this. Haha. I’ve been getting more nursing responsibilities lately. Sprained joints, upset stomach, infections, etc. I’m still in the process of figuring out what they act like when they’re sick. I know that they are coddled here much more than we are in America, so they could act like they’re dying and be totally fine. I feel good. I feel like I’ve learned some basic nursing skills, which is good. What use am I in everyday life if I know all about IV drips but can’t take care of an upset stomach?

Oh, apparently last time I was here I was fat, and now I'm "sin." I was told this when I came back to visit too. But I wear the same pants now as I did when I was here the first time. I'll probably get "soooo fat" again after being here for a while... eating the oily food and not having time to exercise--though I have been making it a point to exercise.

The seniors are older than when I had them last. (Duh.) But it’s really exciting to see them now. AND they’re easier to handle in class… Oh my goodness… I couldn’t even describe what they were like in ninth grade. I was talking to one of the boys on Sunday for a while. I was close to him when I was here last, and I had really taken the time to try to understand him then. He calls me his sister. He doesn’t open up very easily and he bottles it up inside. His father died I don’t know how many years ago. He has two older brothers. Yousef is 16 years older and lives in Kuwait to make more money to send to his family in Zewak, a very conservative Upper Egyptian village, and to NUA for this student’s education. My student’s other older brother is deaf and has some brain damage. His name is Adel, and he works at the school making bread. He loves to draw and smiles a lot. So this student of mine is the man of his household now. He was telling me that after he graduates he wants to go to school in Texas. I asked why he wanted to leave Egypt. He said that he needs to go to college in America so that he can make more money than he would here. He wants Yousef to be able to go home and be with his family and watch his kids grow up. Apparently Yousef hasn’t seen one of his own kids because he hasn’t been home in a long time. And this student wants to make money so that he can pay for Yousef’s kids to go to school like Yousef did for him. I know that he truly meant that. Mary has one of her English classes write every day about whatever prompt she gives them on the board. One was asking what they would do with 1,000,000 Egyptian pounds (LE). All of them said that they would help their families and help their church. I feel like a lot of kids in America would talk about shopping and iPhones and shallow materialistic things. So people can criticize Egyptians for not waiting in line or for having some nauseatingly emotional movies and even for not taking responsibility for their actions very well, but they care for their family so deeply.

I love the way that the people interact here. It’s so nice to watch them. And I guess part of it is that they’re younger and therefore more energetic. But it’s just nice. The cultural is a more aggressive culture in general though. They’ll kick or smack each other on the back pretty hard, and it was alarming when I first got to Egypt, but they’re just playing around. I did see some little boys throwing glass bottles at a wall in an alley tonight on the way to the pharmacy, and that was a little too much for me, but most don’t take it that far. ☺ When they joke, they hang all of each other and slap hands when someone makes a joke. Sometimes when they laugh, they fall into each other. It’s just nice because it feels like they really love each other.

I taught the 11th and 12th graders about “the human condition.” I explained where our “buttons” come from. For example, if someone has been made to feel stupid in the past, they become more sensitive to situations from which they could interpret that they are being called stupid. They understood it well and seemed to appreciate the lesson. I had them then write a paper about what they think their buttons are and where they came from. I didn’t want to pry, so I told them that I would check the papers in for credit but wouldn’t read them unless they told me that I could. But I did make it known to them that it is important for them to be able to trust trustworthy people and they must let people in in order to have close relationships, so this would be a good opportunity for practicing that. Some of the papers I got, well, all of the ones that I read hurt. Some people misunderstood what they were supposed to do but talked about something that was painful to them anyway. Some talked about how they had been made to feel like failures and how they’re sensitive to being ignored because they felt that way as a child. One student felt disrespected by his family in front of others and it made him feel sad and embarrassed. One student said that sometimes it hurts to see people wearing nice clothes because it makes him feel like he doesn’t have any money. It made me cry. I was thankful that they were willing to let me in. I’ve always loved them, but we bond in our pain and weaknesses more than in our strengths. And now I can pray for them more specifically. I just want them to feel healing and peace. Some of these students’ attitudes and mindsets frustrate me, but I love them all.

I don’t like not being able to run in basketball shorts or having to wear long sleeves when going outside the school wall. I don’t like the smell of our kitchen or bathroom, and I don’t like how my feet look like a gnarly old woman’s or how the stray cats run under my legs when I'm trying to walk, but the thought of never having this back again hurts me in a deep place. I don’t want to let go.

Back Again

Hi everyone. I am here safely. I got in at maybe 8:30 or 9 last night. I flew from Chicago to Istanbul and then Istanbul to Cairo. Turkish Air fed me a lot! I was shocked! Probably because the last time I flew I took Spirit… which was cheaper than any other airline, but I had to pay for a carry-on. And either Turkish Air didn’t care that my backpack weighed 4000 lbs or I was really good at hiding my grimaces every time I put it on my back. It was FULL of books. And with a backpack that size, everyone and their mom knows that you’re American.

Pastor Tom Decker, the principal of Nile Union Academy, picked me up at the airport. It was nice seeing him. Everything was beautifully familiar. Though I didn’t see anyone in the airport wearing a shirt saying, “This is a realy many,” to unknowingly welcome me back. It is a completely different world here, and I just love it. I’ve missed the incessant honking and the calls to prayer from the mosques around the school. For those of you who hadn’t read about my experiences last time, I’ll mention that the driving here is unlike anywhere else I have been before. Lanes? Psh… what’s the point? People swerve around each other, drive within inche(s) of each other, honk like crazy, flash their lights at others, and go as fast as they want. If it’s more convenient, they’ll drive on the wrong side of the road to get where they’re going. The main form of public transportation is microbuses, which are vans that cram people in and stop along the road to pick others up. They all play Egyptian music—which sounds like something you might hear at a circus—and… I don’t know. It’s just a wonderful experience.

I unloaded my stuff into villa 3, where I am living with five other girls. Taylor, Mary, and Bethany (Americans) and Maryam and Mary (Egyptians). I share a room with Bethany, who teaches science. This is her third year teaching at NUA. She was here the year before I was and then came back last year and this year. Then all the SMs went to the Deckers’ house to “meet me” and eat cookies. The guys are Chris, Austin, Phil, and Jeff. The group seems really good. I like the dynamics, and I think that this will be a good year, and that they will all be good for the students.

I’m trying to be conscientious about being helpful but not acting like I know everything to the other SMs. I remember getting annoyed in elementary school with the new kids who would always say, “At my old school…” so I will try not to do that by referring to when I was first here.

I am currently “Ms. Peggy,” in other words the nurse, until she comes back from America in a few weeks. I pray for wisdom, but I know that God won’t give me more than I can handle. There have been some deaths of unknown causes in the past couple years, a microbus accident, and a water heater exploding in the boys’ dorm, so I may have to deal with more than stomach aches. I pray not though. There are two people with diabetes mellitus who have already crashed a couple times recently. One is a student and another is a new faculty member. Apparently the student’s mom handled his diabetes, so he doesn’t know much about it himself. He’s learning. I’m so thankful to those who donated the glucose meters, strips, and lancets!

As school gets started I’m going to start some individual counseling sessions. I’m also hoping to do some group therapy. I found some awesome cognitive behavioral therapy worksheets online that I think will be really effective. Just meeting some of the boys on the grass who didn’t even understand, “What’s your name?” in English gives me an idea of how to go about teaching ESL Bible. Charades. I'm also going to be teaching them some songs. Since I'm starting in Genesis, I could teach them some praise songs about creation. (And considering that most of the students are tone deaf, I can sing without shame :) ) I’m helping Pastor Tom teach his 11th and 12th grade Bible classes about marriage and family (though the first part of the semester will help them to understand themselves, their past, and others… aka counseling), and I will also be taking Peggy’s career class. Her husband Ron told me that I’m going to start by teaching first aid and how to address envelopes—the call to prayer just started. ☺ I remember last time I was here and was teaching class that nobody in the class flinched, but I completely lost my train of thought. There are at least five mosques surrounding the school, so their drawn out monotone prayers/songs overlap each other. I used to be kind of creeped out by the sounds and style, but now I understand better and appreciate the calls as a good reminder for me to pray too. Pastor Tom told me that since Pastor Isaac (who was also the boys' dean) left, they don't have a pastor currently, so he's it. I offered that if there's anything I can do to help, I'd be happy to. So he told me I can be responsible for all the vespers, not necessarily speaking, but just making sure to arrange everything. I'm looking forward to that.

It so great to see the students. Most of the ones that I taught when I was here from 2009-2010 are seniors now, and I’m so proud of them! They’re excited to see me too. Even though I felt like an utter failure at many times when I was a student missionary, I didn’t utterly fail because there are tons of students who love and trust me because they know that I love them too. And that is helpful because even the students I don’t know have heard that “Miss Sara is good and talks to the students.” I can’t imagine us in America being so accepting and excited about seeing us again. Maybe the Egyptians are just more open about it, but I really don’t think so. I want to be as accepting as they are.

I anticipate feeling somewhat lonely at times, but in a strange way I'm kind of looking forward to it. I want to be alone with God. I’m really happy to be here. Love you all.

Right Where I Should Be

I’m one who is prone to skepticism, and I’m pretty realistic and unfortunately able to rationalize God’s moving as “just how things would have turned out,” but I know that this is where I’m supposed to be.

Last summer I went through the TrueYou workshops in Chattanooga, which were intensive weekend workshops emphasizing self-awareness, growth, and getting ride of self-defeating habits—in other words, it helps people to be fully alive. That changed my life. And since then I went to all of the workshops as a facilitator and brought as many people as I could with me so that they could experience it as well. From that I gained wisdom as to how to counsel people and effective interactive processes that I could use in group settings.

One of the girls in my nursing class was going to go to Africa as a student missionary, and that got me thinking that maybe I could do the same thing before getting a full-time nursing job. If I went to a place and did nursing, then that wouldn’t make it bad that I didn’t get a job right away. (There is a lot of competition for nursing jobs.) So I looked into some places in Africa and I emailed Pastor Tom as well, mentioning my degree and experience with counseling about. (Yes, Egypt is in Africa, but it feels more like part of the Middle East to me.) Malawi and other places fell through, but Pastor Tom wrote back saying that a week of prayer speaker had just emailed him saying that they have a strong need for a counselor on campus. There are many students who struggle with anxiety, phobias, post-traumatic stress, and have faced great struggles in their lives both don’t have anyone to help them work through things. They need a non-administrative person that they can talk to. He said that they know me and trust me and asked if I would come. My friend David firmly believed that God wanted me at NUA, and I took that seriously. After some time, I accepted the position. A couple weeks later I was looking through my journal from last fall, and in several places I mentioned how my dream job would be working as a high school chaplain. I also talked about how badly I wished I could counsel people. I had forgotten that I had written those things and even wanted those things so much.

Initially, my primary role was to be a counselor at the school. Pastor Tom also asked if I would help him teach his Bible 11 & 12 classes, which are about marriage and family for the first semester. He said that before any marital or parenting advice, they need to understand themselves, so he wanted to spend a good chunk of the semester helping them to understand themselves and others and how to have functional relationships in general. Thank You, God via TrueYou!

About a week before coming here, I got an e-mail from NUA’s nurse practitioner Peggy Miller, who said that something came up in the family and she wouldn’t be able to return to Egypt from the US for a while, so I would be the nurse on campus until she comes back. BOOM. Just graduated with nursing. I would also be teaching her Careers/Life Skills class, which includes first aid, childcare, career paths (personality testing implied!), etc. How perfect. Who would have known that this was going to come up? God.

Here I am, sitting on the Deckers’ massive couch trying to plan for classes and figure out what I need to do. I’ll write more about the actual place later, but I just wanted to give God credit for bringing me here.

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.