Friday, January 18, 2008
End of Conference, Islamic Cairo
1 a.m. and Cairo is still bustling like mid-day Manhatten. My presentation went well yesterday; some people even asked for copies of it (I later was told that giving out electronic copies is a sure way to get my presentation plagarized). Ah well, something about imitation being the sincerest form of flattery.
This has been a great chance to network and to reconnect with other ELFs (hah!) that I had met in D.C. in August. After comparing notes, I am convinced that I have one of the best countries, posts, coworkers, living situations, students, and RELOs of any other fellows. I definitely got lucky.
Today two teachers from the university, Sara and Amr, gave Natalie and me a tour of Islamic Cairo. They had an incredible knowledge of the history of the area as well as of Islam (they are both studying in the religous school here). Sara "covers", which means she wears a headscarf. She chose to wear it at the age of 18, and describes the decision as being her own because she wants to be more humble.
Honestly, I really can't step outside of my culture enough to understand the headscarf issue. My roommate did have a good point that it isn't the headscarf that oppresses women - that poor and uneducated women in China, India, Central America, Egypt . . . have much the same freedoms (or lack thereof) and that we, in the west, have arbitrarily chosen the headscarf to symbolize that; however, the issues are really those of poverty, class, and education. Nevertheless, there are also well-educated, upperclass women that are choosing to cover . . . I am trying to understand, but it may just be beyond me.
It was so nice today to breeze past the other tourists being heckled by touts because we were with locals. We got to see some areas where not many tourists venture, and had an easy time bargaining. The shopkeeper even asked why a Moroccan (me) was speaking English, not French or Arabic. I read later that one of the mosques we entered is forbidden to tourists. . . I am not sure if we were allowed in because we went to the women's entrance (side) or because we were with Sara.
Beth should be landing in D.C. right about now, then on to Frankfurt, then to Cairo, then Cairo rush hour (24/7). She may be a little grumpy when she arrives. Note to self: get separate room.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Cairo
After some trials and tribulations, I have finally arrived in Cairo. I almost didn't get out of Turkey due to the expiration of my residency permit that I can't renew until I get a letter from Turkey's Department of Education which happens to be on an "unofficial" strike because of political reasons.
The scene at the Istanbul airport had the makings of a bad cliche: I was turned back at customs and told to go to the "post office". "Heh, post office, no problem" I thought, "They probably want me to pay some fine, get a stamp, and go".
Turns out the "post office" was actually "police office" (they sound the same, you know). It was a small office, whitewashed cinder block walls adorned with two no smoking signs. Two police officers (one smoking), me with my pre-beginner Turkish language skills, one of the police officers insisting that I had overstayed my visa. In those situations I like to pretend like I know absolutely no Turkish. I hear them bandying around sums of money for me to pay ranging from $2,500 to $25 and try not to let them see me sweat. The clock is ticking, and my flight is boarding in ten minutes; I have yet to clear security.
Finally, I call my Turkish friend and colleague and ask for advice. I did this partially to let them know that I did have some Turkish contacts who would be willing to help me. Just after my phone call I was escorted to a smaller room with three smoking men, a small conversation ensued, and I was let go with a signature and stamp allowing me exit.
At no time did I feel in any sort of danger, but I did understand that there was a distinct possibility of my missing the flight. Luckily I made it on just in time.
When I arrived in Cairo, my bag had been lost, but I had anticipated this eventuality and carried on my suit, laptop, and everything I needed for the conference. The ride to my hotel was nice because my driver pointed out sites along the way. He was proud of the fact that there were huge churches and mosques next to each other. He wanted me to know that the people here live in peace, despite what one hears through the media. When we crossed the Nile, a shiver ran up my spine just thinking of the thousands of years and many civilizations that had lived and perished by this river.
The next morning the English Language Fellows toured the graduate campus where imams are trained. It is the preeminent center for Qu'ran education, and people who graduate from here go all over the world to teach Islam. Each of us was paired up with a student, and we talked for an hour. I must say, it challenged some of my conceptions of "imams". I expected a traditionally dressed very conservative man. Instead, there were men and women students; my partner wore a 3-piece suit and was a professor of Arabic literature. He explained to me how he respected some things about Malcolm X, but that Malcolm X misunderstood a main point of Islam: every person is equal.
Next we registered for the conference at the American University in Cairo and attended the plenary session. Over 1,200 people attended - teachers from all over the region, many from Egypt. There is an excellent bookstore at the AUC, and I was lucky enough to bump into the buyer. He directed me to some literature by a feminist Egyptian author, some of whose books have been banned in Egypt and another author who gives a good picture of daily life in Cairo.
I stayed up late last night discussing headscarves, Islam, poverty, and education with my roommate, Mandy. She is an English Language Fellow in Kyrgyzstan. Today I am giving my presentation.
To end on a funny note. Washington, in all its wisdom, had decided that we are no longer to use the acronym ELF to describes ourselves because it is not professional. The new title is EL Fellow. Take note!
The scene at the Istanbul airport had the makings of a bad cliche: I was turned back at customs and told to go to the "post office". "Heh, post office, no problem" I thought, "They probably want me to pay some fine, get a stamp, and go".
Turns out the "post office" was actually "police office" (they sound the same, you know). It was a small office, whitewashed cinder block walls adorned with two no smoking signs. Two police officers (one smoking), me with my pre-beginner Turkish language skills, one of the police officers insisting that I had overstayed my visa. In those situations I like to pretend like I know absolutely no Turkish. I hear them bandying around sums of money for me to pay ranging from $2,500 to $25 and try not to let them see me sweat. The clock is ticking, and my flight is boarding in ten minutes; I have yet to clear security.
Finally, I call my Turkish friend and colleague and ask for advice. I did this partially to let them know that I did have some Turkish contacts who would be willing to help me. Just after my phone call I was escorted to a smaller room with three smoking men, a small conversation ensued, and I was let go with a signature and stamp allowing me exit.
At no time did I feel in any sort of danger, but I did understand that there was a distinct possibility of my missing the flight. Luckily I made it on just in time.
When I arrived in Cairo, my bag had been lost, but I had anticipated this eventuality and carried on my suit, laptop, and everything I needed for the conference. The ride to my hotel was nice because my driver pointed out sites along the way. He was proud of the fact that there were huge churches and mosques next to each other. He wanted me to know that the people here live in peace, despite what one hears through the media. When we crossed the Nile, a shiver ran up my spine just thinking of the thousands of years and many civilizations that had lived and perished by this river.
The next morning the English Language Fellows toured the graduate campus where imams are trained. It is the preeminent center for Qu'ran education, and people who graduate from here go all over the world to teach Islam. Each of us was paired up with a student, and we talked for an hour. I must say, it challenged some of my conceptions of "imams". I expected a traditionally dressed very conservative man. Instead, there were men and women students; my partner wore a 3-piece suit and was a professor of Arabic literature. He explained to me how he respected some things about Malcolm X, but that Malcolm X misunderstood a main point of Islam: every person is equal.
Next we registered for the conference at the American University in Cairo and attended the plenary session. Over 1,200 people attended - teachers from all over the region, many from Egypt. There is an excellent bookstore at the AUC, and I was lucky enough to bump into the buyer. He directed me to some literature by a feminist Egyptian author, some of whose books have been banned in Egypt and another author who gives a good picture of daily life in Cairo.
I stayed up late last night discussing headscarves, Islam, poverty, and education with my roommate, Mandy. She is an English Language Fellow in Kyrgyzstan. Today I am giving my presentation.
To end on a funny note. Washington, in all its wisdom, had decided that we are no longer to use the acronym ELF to describes ourselves because it is not professional. The new title is EL Fellow. Take note!
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