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.

Aswan

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

12:48pm in the minibus on the way from Aswan to Luxor

I want to straighten my legs. That would be nice. I’m listening to David Crowder Band’s “Wholly Yours.” We left on Thursday after classes for Alexandria. It was my parents, Rafaela (our exchange student from Brazil), me, and Abanoub D and Mina F, who both live in Alex. We took minibuses, which ended up taking about five hours. I am overwhelmed by details that I could include, so I will just avoid all of them because my mind is crazy and can’t fathom not writing every detail. The dominant part of the ISFJ personality type is Introverted Sensing, which is a euphemism for “detail orientation to a creepy degree.” Citdadel at Qaitbay, Bibilotheca Alexandrina, amphitheater

We planned to leave Alexandria at 5:00pm on Saturday evening, but… you know how things go in Egypt, so we ended up leaving for the bus at 6:10, and the bus left when it was full at 7:30. I had found out on the way to Alex that we had to leave at 1:00am on Sunday morning for the airport to fly to Aswan, and I started to freak out because I had so much left to do for the people who were taking over my classes for the next four days. I wrote some worksheets most of the way back to the school. We got back to the school at 12:00, and I ran around like a crazy woman making copies and typing and doing last minute things. Our ride to the airport was already waiting before I had even gotten to pack, so I ran back to the room, grabbed underwear and t-shirts and stuck them in my unpacked bag. In the airport, I took advantage of being an American and laid down on the seats at our gate. It’s inappropriate for girls to lay down in front of men, but I figured that it was 2:00am in the airport, and I was travelling with the most American-looking parents in Egypt. (Well, I guess Dr. Weaver in a khaki bucket hat and a khaki vest with 700 pockets would have won had there been a contest.) I’ve also taken advantage of being American by wearing short sleeves. I won’t go around in sleeveless shirts like some of the tourists I see. Some are somehow oblivious to the fact that they are the only women with their hair and wrists showing in sight, and some are just indifferent about how they could be offending others. My dad said that he noticed at the botanical garden in Aswan that Rafa and I passed a group of guys who kept their mouths shut when we passed, and then a group of older women in tank tops passed and the guys started saying making comments at them. I guess that the men here feel that if women act a certain way, then they are asking for trouble because no “respectable” woman would put herself in the front of a cab or in a sleeveless shirt. Being here, I could understand why that would seem like common sense to them, but I can also understand how it wouldn’t be common sense to us. I don’t agree with that logic because I feel like you should have the same morals and integrity regardless of the decisions of the people around you, or even if no one else is around.

I came here to Aswan with the attitude that all of the men in the shops are just trying to rip the people off (which they are), but I hadn’t considered how little they probably make. Yeah, they overcharge people who can afford to be overcharged because some of them make next to nothing and have families to provide for. There were some young boys in gallabeas selling bracelets that followed us back to our bus. My mom kept calling them honey and talking about how cute they were. They were super cute, and one was even negotiating with my dad in English. We were suckers, and we bought from them. Some people are cons, but judging by the amount of brown, fuzzy plaque on their teeth that could have provided for some quality compost piles, I figured that it wouldn’t hurt to buy some bracelets for $0.40. I think that I will have Krista write some complicated math equation showing that the amount of education a person here has is inversely related to the amount of plaque on someone’s teeth. Truly. Jessica’s dad is an oral surgeon, and he’s bringing a toothbrush and toothpaste for all of the students and looking at their teeth. I am really looking forward to that. I am worried about their teeth and dental problems, and hopefully preventative measures will help them.

Our driver has a crucifix on his keychain and one hanging from his rearview mirror, and I have realized that I feel a special connection to every Christian I see here. I automatically feel a closeness… ***

I don’t know how much to tip people here. Back in Gabal, people would be satisfied with two pounds, but here, it’s just a guess. They could be really excited and think that we’re incredibly generous, or they could feel like they spent all day babysitting only to have the parents come home and disappoint them with a five dollar bill. A security guard at the Karnak Temple pointed at the obelisks and then offered to take a picture of the four of us. Five pounds… and the lighting of my picture barely shows the obelisks. Haha. Oh well.

Hearing about all of these ancient religions reminds me so much of Rob Bell’s NOOMA video where he talks about how the story of Jesus was nothing original when it came about. There were already tons of stories of people being the sons and daughters of gods. There were rumors of their gods being their saviors. All of this stuff was not new when Jesus came about, and that is what makes His story so interesting. It wasn’t new, but Christianity exploded after His death. It is fascinating how similar these pagan temples are to the Jewish sanctuary. There’s the outer court, the inner court, the holy place, and the most holy place (where only the king or high priest can go into). Inside the most holy place is the statue of their god because it’s where they believe that the god himself dwells. There is a boat that holds this god, and there are rods that the priests held over their shoulders as they carried this god. I was just awestruck by the similarities to the Jewish sanctuary. I felt somewhat disgusted too. But I was thinking that if I was a nonbeliever, I would consider that Judaism or Christianity was just another one of these world religions or false beliefs that was popular for a certain time and then pretty much retired. However, the Jewish sanctuary was historically in existence before any of these pagan temples were built. And the fact that there are so many similarities between these different religions suggests that there was a common origin. Ever since the fall, Adam’s descendants had been awaiting their Messiah who would crush the serpent’s head (Gen. 3). The old prophecies pointed to this descendant who would be the Son of God, born of a virgin. I’m no historian, so don’t take my word for it, but it’s my speculation that their idea of the sanctuary, the Most Holy Place with the Ark of the Covenant where the Shekina glory would dwell, whose Son would be born of a virgin, etc. originated from the Jews and diffused from there.

I’m at our hotel in Luxor now, and it’s very nice. It’s definitely not as beautiful as the one in Aswan, but it’s quaint. Outside our window, I can hear loud drums and Egyptian music. I can hear someone making that loud tongue-wagging noise that Ms. Janet makes at weddings. If you have never heard it or have no idea what I’m talking about, that last sentence probably sounds weird.

So my dad brought me a leopard-print snuggie… we had always laughed at those commercials. For those of you who don’t know, a snuggie is blanket with arms… or a bathrobe that you put on backwards. The commercials are just ridiculous. They have a lady reading on the couch, but oh no! Her arms are cold! What should she do? She needs a snuggie. Anyways, they’re just a terrible joke of an idea. When Krista got back from home after Christmas break, she opened her suitcase and showed me what her boyfriend gave her. A zebra-print snuggie! We were laughing so hard, and we decided to make a photo album of everything that we can do in our snuggies. I have taken a couple pictures so far. Sitting on my bed, reading about Kom Ombo temple on the balcony of our hotel room… I might bring it to the pyramids in Giza just for the sake of the picture.

The temples were so interesting. They are absolutely gigantic and elaborate. It gives me a greater understanding and a different perspective when I think about the temples in the Bible. Jesus said He would rebuild it in three days, and they laughed. He was talking about Himself, but they considered this enormous and incredibly intricate building with elaborate colors and details. Every detail had significance. I am just astounded by the amount of work that went into these temples.

There are certain things in America that are just gross… but apparently those things aren’t universal. Long pinky fingernails.

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I finished right there. I don't know where I was going with that.

Disorganized thoughts and part of Alexandria

January 6, 2010 8:59pm

My name is Sara, and I ate Kraft Macaroni & Cheese for dinner. Oh yeah.

My right eye is magnun (or “matartash” as they would say in Alexandria)… this means crazy. I don’t know how to say “sick” or “red, watery, and gross” in Arabic, so magnun is my choice. I think that my lacrimal duct is blocked. I’m takin’ care of business. Why am I writing about this? Because my desire to scratch my inner canthus like there is no tomorrow is consuming my mind more than anything else at the current moment.

Apparently fish aren’t animals because they don’t have sex to reproduce. The fact that they have two eyes, a mouth, blood, and bones… is irrelevant. They’re not animals, so vegetarians really should eat them.

By the way, please go to niccageaseveryone.com My favorite is probably the Mona Lisa. Thank you, Alec and Michael.

I’ve been very tempted to play “luggage” on the minibus rides. The thought of it cracks me up… but it probably wouldn’t be as funny to any of you.

On Saturday night, Olivia (a tenth grade student), Neven (Arabic teacher and Pastor Tom’s secretary), and her sister Nermin (business office worker), and I took the train from Ramses in Cairo to Alexandria. I have been reading the book A Celebration of Discipline for a religion class that I am taking through correspondence, and I really like it. It is incredibly practical in its disciplines to have a closer relationship with God. I would like to expand more later... but just not now.

Olivia’s uncles picked us up at the train station, and took us to her aunt Sahar and uncle Ramy’s house. (I feel held to a higher standard in my capitalization because I teach English, so I feel the need to defend not capitalizing aunt and uncle. I am describing them—not using aunt and uncle as part of their names.) This family has the sweetest four and a half year old girl named Lydia, and she looked like a little model with her long eyelashes and curly hair. They gave us amazing koshary at about 12:30am, and we were in bed by 3:30. I thought that this was unusual, but apparently staying up until obscene hours is normal—even for the kids. At both houses that I stayed where there were young kids, they went to bed at 3:30-4:00am whenever we did. Whatever happened to an 8:30 bedtime? (Alec and I were discussing why parents choose 8:30, and we reached the conclusion that it’s not as rebellious as staying up until 9:00, and it’s not as prude as 8:00. It’s a little on the wild side. Thanks parents for the leeway.) They stay up obscenely late and get an obscenely late start. I wonder if they know that that’s weird. I don’t think that I feel that way only because it different from my culture… but that’s just weird. Lydia couldn’t grasp the concept that I didn’t speak Arabic, though I said it in many ways. J “Ana mish fehma Araby.” “Ana mabafhamsh Araby.” “Ana mabitkalimsh Araby.” She would just speak louder and slower. It was really cute. I played it off that I understood what she was saying by nodding, smiling, and saying yes, no and maybe. She saw gum in my purse at 3:00am and asked for a piece, so I, thinking that I am her parent, told her that I would give her some tomorrow. She went and pouted to her parents and came back and tried to ask in English. I told her that I would give it to her tomorrow. Eventually she started sobbing. Oops. Oh well. I told her no, and it would be bad to change my mind just because she begged.

We met up with Mina, Abanoub, and Wael, who were a lot of fun. Mina told me that his younger brother might leave school to meet us at a café in the San Stefano mall. I was shocked about him leaving school, but he told me a little more about the government school system. There were about 80 kids in his class, and people drank and smoked cigarettes and hashish during class. The teacher would come and join them sometimes. They may have taken English classes for 12 years, but some of them still didn’t know the alphabet. If the teachers only made 300 LE a month, they would intentionally not teach very well so that parents would hire the teachers as private tutors before the tests (where they would teach them to memorize the answers). This way, they would make so much more money than their normal salary. I have heard these kinds of stories from all of the students who have gone to the government schools all over Egypt. It’s so sad, and it makes me grateful that I took field trips to the Shedd Aquarium in Chicago and that I learned the bones of the body in fourth grade and learned how to summarize a story in second grade. These students have to learn what I learned the first 16 years of my life in five years, when their minds are not as absorptive as the minds of little kids.

Alexandria is gorgeous. The architecture is so pretty, and I love just sitting by the beach and watching the waves crash over the rocks. Olivia, Nermin, and Neven left on Tuesday morning, but later Tuesday night Wael, Abanoub, Mina, and I walked along by the water, and the white foam looked so cool in the moonlight.

I love walking up and down the streets in Alexandria and just watching the people. On the less busy streets, the people stand out on the balcony and yell down to the people on the balconies below them. I saw people pulling on ropes to bring whatever was in their basket up from the ground to their balcony. I was reminded of the beginning of Beauty and the Beast.

Faiyoum/Fayoum/Fayum/Faiyum/Egypt is inconsistent...

So... Egyptians are not consistent with their spelling. Even the name of their own country. It uses three letters in Arabic, none of which are vowels, so when they write it in English, it's either "Mosr" or "Misr."

I went to Faiyoum (?) with the wonderful Maryam Mosa for a few days. She is so sweet, and she invited me to stay in her village for a few days. Her village is actually called Byada, but it's close to Faiyoum. We took a minibus to the metro, where we then got another minibus that took us to Faiyoum. Then we took what looked like a mix between a hearse and a pizza truck into Byada. From there we took a tktk (Yes, I just spelled a word without vowels) to Maryam's house. If a car and a tricycle could have a baby, it would be a tktk. I don't know how else to explain it. Or I guess I could describe it as an olive with three wheels and curtains instead of doors. Before I had even met Maryam's dad, he was already telling her that I am his daughter and he was so excited to have me come over. The floors were cement, and I could smell the farm animals from the second I stepped in the house. The ants made loud crunching noises when I stepped on them. I began to love her house. As she described it, it was very simple, but it was so nice. The irrigation system seemed to be pretty effective in Byada because I had not seen so much green since Holland. There were palm-ish trees all over, green fields, cows, donkeys, and all other kinds of animals. I saw boys racing on donkeys down the road. It was so funny to me. Donkeys can't gallop beautifully like horses can. It just looks awkward when they try. We wore gallabeas (Egyptian dresses) and walked around on Maryam's farm. We fed her cows and ate green things (I have no idea what their called in Arabic, let alone English...) It was different to me, and I loved it. She knew everyone that we passed, and they were all so friendly. I realized that even if I had lived in Egypt my entire life, I still wouldn't know how many times to kiss the women on the cheek. I think it's two, and then they go for the third. I go for the third, and they go for six. All the meanwhile they are saying things like "Om le'e (How are you?)" "Al Humdilallah..." and other things. I was confused, but they were really sweet. The people were so wonderful. They all wanted me to come over, and they were so concerned with if I was eating enough and if I was comfortable. I realized that I show hardly any concern for my own guests (let alone my neighbors' guests!) compared to what these people showed me. They all invited me to stay for Christmas, and they were so hospitable and wonderful. I really liked being there. Maryam and I went upstairs, past where the chickens and ducks live, onto the roof and talked. We leaned up against the "dove" (pigeon) house and looked off into the distance at a man galloping on a donkey while talking on his cell phone. The roofs are all so close together that you don't really even need streets. You could just walk from roof to roof. It was so cool. I felt like I was in a book. Maryam's dad would ask me in Arabic whose daughter I am. "Ana binte Mosa." I really liked Maryam's sister Reda and her family. We got to cook a lot too. It was such a good time.






I kept seeing this cute little girl named Myrna looking at me, so I asked her her name. I didn't know where Maryam went, so I stepped outside just to walk in front of the house, and Myrna said something to some kids around the corner, and all these little boys came running and stopped when they saw me. It was so cute. They all ran to see the pale American in a red gallabea. I was embarrassed about how little Arabic I knew. I didn't even know how to say hi to a group... and then when I thought about it, it was probably just the same because "SabaH el khyer" and "Ahilan" don't seem conjugated. I wrote, "Here comes Myrna again. She's peering in the doorway. Now she's watching me write and she has no idea that I am writing about her."

I felt bad having Maryam come all the way back to Gabal with me to bring me back to the school, so I tried to convince her to just take me to the minibus that is headed for El Marg, and I would be fine from there, but she refused because I am her sister. I fell asleep in the minibus, and when I woke up, she told me that the man next to her was asking if we were married and kept trying to talk to her. She leaned away from him, and he said, "Don't worry. I don't bite. I have two wives at home." Yeah, and what's a third to you, buddy? Gross. The man to her left and then men in front of us kept staring at us. I kept my eye on her to make sure that he wasn't trying to touch her leg or anything. Anytime that we talked or even whispered, the man in front of us would turn around and smile and try to listen. Go away, you weirdo. And then soon they were all talking in Arabic about how we "were talking about them" and were trying to get her to talk to them, so she told me that it was best if she and I stopped talking. What creeps. The guy in front asked her if I liked Egypt. She nodded. He said that he would "put me in his mind," which in Arabic means that he would take good care of me. Turn around. The man with two wives told her that she was very beautiful. They kept asking why she was so "hard" and why she wouldn't talk. I didn't want to answer my phone when someone called because I wanted to avoid as much attention as possible. She said that they didn't say anything bad - it was all okay, but she really had no business talking to them. At the end of the ride, they told her that they were mad at her and me, but mostly her because she is Egyptian and should have talked to them. Boo hoo.

I am really trying to avoid stereotyping people based on their religions because I have much closer contact with the Christians, but as far as the guys on the streets go, the Christians haven't bothered me. This could be because there are 9x as many Muslims as Christians, so it would only make sense that more Muslims bother me. But I can't help but consider what kind of influence a religion that openly declares in its holy book that women are not as valuable as men has on the people. If I am property, why would you respect me as your equal? That reminds me of when I was talking to Maryam's sister Reda and her husband Nasr. I said something about how a man will go to prison for hitting his wife in America. Nasr asked, "And what if she hits him?" I proudly responded that she could go to prison too because everyone is equal. He laughed. I love equality. I mean, things are not perfectly equal, but according to the law, we're equal, and I just love it so much. I was planning on listening to Lee Greenwood's "Proud to be an American" (thank you, Jordan) on the way back, but I soon discovered that my iPod was dead. Oh well. I'll save it for another time and probably cry. haha. But maybe.

I miss Jessica and Krista. I love them so much.

My parents and Rafaela are coming to visit soon! I can't wait. I'm trying to plan as much as I can in advance so that I am not stressed out when they get here. We're going to go into Gabal and get Koshary, take a minibus and the metro somewhere, go to Khan El Khalili, go with Mina and Abanoub to Alexandria. We're also going to go to Aswan and Luxor, to the Cairo Museum, and the pyramids. There's too much to see everything in Egypt, but we'll get a lot done. I am already preparing myself for being frustrated with untimely transportation and for people ripping us off. My dad said that they are bringing my two bags of walnuts. Al Humdilallah. (Praise be to God.) I've been so sincerely concerned about my omega-3s. I know how pathetic I sound, but I am really excited for that. Plus, I want to see how all these guys act around my dad because they're always joking about how they're going to go call "Amu Joooohn" whenever I put them in their place. They love to joke around with him, but they will probably be dead silent. haha. Well, goodnight.

Parts of My Journal

Tuesday, November 17, 2009 11:59 pm - in the mosquito net (I guess "under it") on my bed

Today at dinner, Jessica leaned toward me and said, "Why am I eating jelly and cheese with a spoon? Because I am in Egypt." I laughed so hard. I'm no longer "healthy Sara." My standards have gone so far down.

Michael can frown better than anyone I know. It is so funny. I really like him. He is such a nice guy. He also offered to help me grade some of my papers sometime.

Girls can't lay down in front of guys, even their dads. Girls should say "ya ma'alim," according to ___. Girls aren't actually people, so they should probably be beaten and knocked around and harrassed.

We're watching "The Ultimate Gift" in my 9th grade classes. It's cute and they like it. It's a nice break for me too. :)

Thursday, November 19, 2009 10:02pm - on the new couch at the Decker's house!

_______ just came here to talk to me. Poor thing. She talked to me once before. It's totally different from how she appears. She's so frivolous and sanguine, but she is so depressed... She was sobbing and telling me about how she's so bad and wants to die. She was crying in my arms on the balcony of the girls dorm. So tonight, she came looking for me because she was so lonely. She feels like people don't really love her. I told her how much God loves her and wants to hug her and help her up when she falls. She told me that I'm the only one here who encourages her. She said I'm like her little sister. Little sister? Really? Haha, Oh Lord, I don't feel passionate enough. I don't feel like I'm praying enough. She's slipping and she hates herself, and I'm not constantly begging for God's presence. Oh little _______. She cried into my neck and hugged me. I loved it because I felt like I was there for her. It was so sincere.

November 23, 2009 12:34 am - on my bed

alashan ana shooftuk - because I see you
hhazeena - sad
ala fikra - I think

Dry crusty feet and legs. Ew. I feel so fat too. I always say this, but I need to start exercising hardcore.

Funniest thing: I was joking out by the ping pong table and saying that Abanoub can't be trusted. Michael agreed and said something like, "Yeah, he can't be trusted." In his victim voice Abanoub asked, "But why?" Michael said, "Because you have a tattoo on your palm!" Haha! What kind of person gets a tattoo on their palm.

I read 2 Corinthians 12 today, and I had been so annoyed and frustrated with 2 Corinthians because it was boring and hard to follow. But this I could concentrate on, and I cried. I feel like I understand, "My grace is sufficient for you for My power is made perfect in weakness." It's not just being poor or having diseases that could be thorns in your flesh, but your character as well. I though, "God, change me! Change my mind! Why ... Take it away! Change me." I am still the same person, and I will probably always struggle with the same things, but I can still overcome because my weakness exemplifies God's power. I got a fuller understanding of it that I can't quite articulate.

I talked about pride today as a worship though in all of my classes. I felt very good about it. I talked about how we always have excuses, as did Adam and Eve, but that doesn't justify sin. And if we can't admit when we are wrong, God can't work with us. Satan fell from Heaven because of his pride, and Jesus was killed because the people were too proud to admit that they were wrong. I asked, "When is the last time that you told someone that you were truly sorry about something without making excuses?" "I'm sorry. I was wrong." If you can't think of a time, you really need to watch yourself.

Dominique is so funny. I try not to laugh at him because he's usually hitting on me subtly in corny ways (but not enough to call him out on it), but he's so funny. I love Gonjowk in 10th grade. He is so sweet. I want Benjamin James to do really well because he tries so hard.

Gladys shared her testimony Friday night, and I wanted to cry. She's such an ENFJ/INFJ and I love her. She made a decision to love the unlovables. It was so good. It convicted me that I really need to have a perfect husband. God must lead. I wanted to cry for ____. It has to be able to be better than that. Oh Lord, please be with them.

Thursday, Nov. 26, 2009 6:05 pm - kneeling on the floor, writing on the bed

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!! I am so full I could throw up. We ate Mexican food at the Deckers'. It was so good. Black beans, pinto beans, flautas, mashed potatoes... We then started to watch "The Polar Express," and the boy was all distraught about whether or not there was a Santa, so he ran to the bookshelf and started flipping through a book. Chim said, "Calm down, Sara Olakowski." I laughed so hard. I was flattered.

We played football today. :)

Friday, Dec. 4, 2009 10:25 am - in my place on the steps outside the church

Oh, before I forget to write about it: I gave a worship thought on "Character is who you are in the dark," DURING PRAYER (name) tried to sneak up to my desk to take (name 2)'s homework to copy it because (name) didn't do his. Are you kidding? I was awestruck.

December 14, 2009 1:32 am - on my bed

I just got tangled in the mosquito net trying to get in here. I love Krista. We laugh so much together. We just tried on our tackiest gallabeas (mine has music notes and says "Illinois" on it...) and we took pictures with Jessica while she was sleeping...

The tenth graders are getting really into Night. We have two pages left. The room is dead silent while I read. Thanks, God.

Today was a hard day for me. The cheating is incessant. The lying is just as bad. I was worn out and exhausted from arguing about their punishments. I show them mercy, and I should have shown more. Really?

I wish I could teach 9th grade Bible next semester. Oh, what I would do for that!

Oh! Krista was explaining "explosion" to (name), and she mentioned Hiroshim. He said, "Yeah, and that's why their eyes go like this!" and he pulled down on the corners of his eyes. Haha! Krista said, "No. You're black, I'm white, and their eyes do that. It's the same thing."

December 24, 2009 8:54 pm - Pastor Llew's house

"I am evermore standing on the precipice of who I am and who I could be." -Alec
(name) said to Alec, "Is it scientifically proven that when women get married, they get fat?"
(name2) told Alec that he wouldn't want to go to America because people have sex in the streets.
(name3), in a paragraph about his future, wrote that he wanted to marry a "beautiful woman or a rich man." Every time I looked at him that day in class, I started laughing.
(name4) "changed his brain" and decided to pass the ball instead of shoot it.

Shagia's lines: "So what?" "So what shall I do?" "Don't." "Don't even think about it." "You're gonna lose your life." I love Shagia. haha.

Jessica told me that the word for want and the word for need is the same in Arabic. There is no difference. That's scary.