Hi everyone,
This could potentially be the last mass e-mail min masr (from Egypt) for a while. I finished teaching a while ago and now my Odyssean travels have already begun as I went to Siwa, one of the more remote corners of the earth, back to Alexandria for a day, and am now in Cairo - one of this planet's ancient hubs of human life. Well. Everything here was wonderful. I'm actually writing this on a computer in a room with no air conditioning and the space bar is pretty broken. It is loud and extremely annoying... Ah the simple luxuries we're used to... I think this post will be shorter than usual.
After I finished teaching I had a great following week. Some students decided to get me some very interesting parting gifts including: a extremely tacky picture frame (I enjoyed the gesture immensely) and a small Islam conversion kit. The picture frame came from Hanan - a thirty-five-or-so year old woman from an agrarian area outside of Alex. I was later informed that the gift was some form of flirtation. The Islam conversion kit (there was also a small wooden tray to go along with it) came from Samir. Some of the titles to my new literature include popular hits such as, "Is the Bible the word of God?," a English translation of the Qu'ran, "Islam and Science: Compatible or Incompatible?," "An Illustrated Guide to the Concepts of Islam" or something like that... Along with about five other little enlightening pamphlets, these comprise my key to eternal... what-have-you.
I had some time to burn while I wasn't grading final exams (one class did horrrribly) and on the last night of class some of my students from my adult class (but about my age) timidly invited me to dinner and I enthusiastically accepted. Probably the brightest three from the class. We went to Mo'men for shrimp sandwiches and ended up wandering around Alex for a lot of the night. I haven't seen Nesma or Moustapha since, but Yehia has ended up being a great friend in Alex for the last week. I learned so much about Egyptian culture - it's really far more intriguing than I ever would have expected before coming here.
I stayed for Siwa for a few days. The bus ride was about nine hours long through the sweltering desert and for the first time I think I was the only foreign person. Not only that I was the only English-speaker on the bus (that I know of). My companion ended up being this sweet old man sitting beside me. He kept falling asleep on my shoulder (Egyptians have a very modest sense of personal space...) and he slowly coaxed me into his trust by offering me scraps of food throughout the ride. First he unrolled a miniature cucumber from a piece of brown paper and insisted that I eat it. I think that he was keeping an eye on me throughout the ride and noticed that I hadn't eaten anything... Anyway, we started chatting a little and later gave me a hunk of bread and insisted that I come inside the final rest stop for mint tea. The buses are a little uncomfortable because there is ALWAYS some sort of religious rhetoric (prayers and what not) being sang over the speakers, the AC is on and off, and you can imagine. We sat in the little shack on the side of the road with the fruit flies swarming inside and sipped our tea happily together in the heat.
I arrived in the town and stepped off the bus. I had no hotel, phone, people to talk to, friends... so I evaded the kids on their donkey carts trying to give me taxi rides, and began walking through town. I don't even know how to describe it. Its so primitive - there are cars and electricity (everyone seems to remember when those things first came to town), but the lifestyle is soooo simple and traditional. And only the people in hotels know any English. I ended up staying in this place for 3 dollars a night. Seemed like a bargain. I spent my days wandering around the town, seeing the sites - there are BEAUTIFUL natural springs (it is an oasis...) that I would walk a few miles to there and back every day. I didn't research at all (I sort of did that deliberately so that I could explore for myself...) except for some friendly advice from Gramp. The best part was meeting the Siwis though. One day when I was walking back from Cleopatra springs, I met a man who said a couple of English phrases to me. I responded in Arabic, and it turned out he didn't know any English at all really. However, he invited me for tea with his friend and soon we were walking through this grove of date palms and he took me to their little shelter way off the road. We sat for a couple of hours speaking in Arabic (!) and talking about Siwan life and ourselves. We drank tea and they made me a sketchy looking lunch - I declined politely and just ate the bread while they chowed down... It was so nice. And then we took a few pictures and Abdul gave e a ride back to the edge of town on the back of his motorbike.
I also went on a desert safari for one night with a bunch of Italians which was interesting. The sand dunes outside of Siwa are amazing. I think that it is the edge of the Great Sand Sea. We drove off into the desert and went swimming in all of these nearby springs. The would just appear in the saddle between two golden dunes. It was really amazing. I got in the water and after going for a nice swim, sat near banks and soon there were little minnows nibbling on my legs.
We had a delicious dinner and I met a nice girl from Canada who was the secret girlfriend of one of our guides. Then we camped out under the stars with no shelter or anything. Just a blanket on the sand. Not long after stretching out under the stars the wind began and made it really miserable for a while with the sand blowing. I just got another blanket and covered my face and managed to get some sleep. Woke up for sunrise.
Anyway, I came back on the night bus and arrived in Alexandria yesterday morning. Went to the movies with Yehia (the new Batman movie is worth it, I think) and chilled out a little in the nice weather before heading back to Cairo. It's hot here. And it will only get hotter...
Egypt has been an amazing experience. The teaching, the learning. A wonderful way to spend a summer, I would do it again in an instant (in fact, I'm already scheming ways to get back here...) The people are (generally) some of the kindest I've ever encountered. Even tonight I was eating koshary by myself and I ended up having a long conversation with the guys sitting near me about Egyptian and American life, marriage, all these interesting things. The gentleman beside me bought me "labn wa ruz" ("milk and rice") and we ended up just sitting for a while talking. I think there are some universal qualities of people and its truly been a joy to see all of the cultural, language, religious, etc. boundaries dissolve when we realize we're all more or less the same. Especially from teaching and living here for a while now - kids are kids and adults are adults. Wherever you go you'll meet smart, ignorant, pessimistic, peaceful, dumbasses. And that's that. I'm tired and going to chill out in the hostel common room, finish reading Oscar Wilde (Picture of Dorian Gray) and crashing for as long as I can.
Anywho, thanks for reading.
Jake
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Imagination is more Important than Wisdom...
Hi! first of all - Daniel - I'm sorry that I'm bumping you're last post down. We all want it to stay at the top of the blog because all of your thoughts were so neatly composed and exquisitely summed up many of our feelings about teaching here over the past weeks. But alas...
PART I
Things are starting to wrap up here at AMlDEA$T as my teaching duties will be coming to a close this week. I have just a few more classes to teach, some exams to give, and then some exams to grade before I'll be finished and feeling perplexed with too much time on my hands. I'm officially cut loose from AMlDEA$T on the 27th, but I've managed to secure the guest house we've been living in for an extra few days. Then they'll really give me the boot on the 31st at which point I'll be heading to Cairo to do some tourist stuff, but they'll be giving me my train tickets and everything - they've taken pretty good care of us.
So, this is possibly the last message you'll get containing any details of teaching experience (although so far I think most of my messages have been concerned with travel adventures, foreign impressions, and cultural faux pas). Anyway, I avoid the teaching bit because it is hard to talk about all of the subtle pleasures of teaching as well as all of the tedious planning that goes into it. The classes for the adults ended up being far more structured than I expected, but on the other hand the children's classes were mostly improvisation. I don't think I talked about all of the early mornings (6:00AM) I spent getting ready for my 10:00AM class. I usually managed to pull it off with minimal stress, but the sleep deprivation often began to show by the end of the week. I like teaching. I don't know what my students will do with their knowledge - who will succeed and who will fail - but it's been a positive experience for everyone. They are all very motivated, and for most the Egyptian style of teaching seems to have failed them miserably. That's why, in the children's classes especially, we try to teach them creativity. As with most younger children, its not the content of the course, but rather the thinking skills that they develop that will help them in the future. This is something that the Egyptian schools seem to be tragically neglecting (from what I understand). There have been awkward classroom crushes, debates about politics and various discussions about the problems and solutions of countless topics relevant to Egypt and the world (global warming, unemployment, pollution, traffic...) As I mentioned, the students give presentations which are usually hit or miss (sometimes quite dull, but other times very intriguing and thoughtful topics). We begin every class with English idioms or quotes. Last time we did these:
"An eye for an eye only makes the whole world blind." - Ghandi
"Never look down on anybody unless you're helping him up." - Jesse Jackson
I explained what an activist is and we debated Hammurabi's "eye for an eye." The same expression exists in Arabic, and when I asked who agreed with Hammurabi and who agreed with Ghandi (in both classes) the only people who agreed with Ghandi were myself and one of my female students, Hanan (one of the brightest in the class). The debate that followed sort of embodied some important cultural aspects of the arab world (or at least my narrow impressions). The thought of forgiveness was much overshadowed by the concept of "revenge" or "punishment." One student who was quite firm in his opinion cited the benefits of this rule: in Saudi Arabia no one steals. The reason? They cut your hands off... Perhaps this rule does work more-or-less as a deterrence, but it only works by creating fear. I believe (and I should have thought to explain this to them), that people shouldn't be forced into behaving ethically by fear, but rather by education (or understanding, morality, whatever you call it). Perhaps I don't know enough about Islam, but I can imagine that is supports the "fear and behave" system, as most religions do. Anyhow, they had trouble grasping my point of view that if someone stabs me in the eye, I wouldn't stab them back because it wouldn't do any good. The the chaotic spiral of self-destruction... Any suggestions for some final quotes to discuss?
Well anyway, in my opinion the greatest thing of teaching is getting to know your students. I think a lot of people probably begin teaching with their ideals (I want to pass on knowledge, to empower these people, to end the cycle of poverty, to provide access to a better future, the ability to self-actualize, etc...) and end up either enjoying the job or not. Although you might be doing these things (or not) what will truly determine the quality of your experience is whether you like it or not. So I definitely took a bit of a gamble here as I am a bit of a romantic idealist. Anyway, as I already said, I am quite lucky in that I enjoyed my time here immensely. If you have a copy of Jack London's Cruise of the Snark lying around, there is a passage in the very beginning about the words "I like." There is no need to justify these words, or back them up with philosophical rhetoric, and thus they are beautiful. There is nothing to question about likes and dislikes, nothing to debate, or contemplate, or reason to ask "why." Sometimes people do ask why, and usually the answers are pretty poor (and if the answers are based on some sort of ideal or philosophy, the person is probably either being pressured or a good liar). Anyway, I found that I like teaching and I'm not really doing it now to save the world (even though for perhaps a few it will be a nice side effect).
(Note: this was written in two long breaths. The first one yesterday, and the second one today. Today I briefly did a little searching and found the quotation that I had referenced. I try not to quote often, but this is one of my favorites...):
"The ultimate word is I LIKE. It lies beneath philosophy, and is twined about the heart of life. When philosophy has maundered ponderously for a month, telling the individual what he must do, the individual says, in an instant, "I LIKE," and does something else, and philosophy goes glimmering. It is I LIKE that makes the drunkard drink and the martyr wear a hair shirt; that makes one man a reveller and another man an anchorite; that makes one man pursue fame, another gold, another love, and another God. Philosophy is very often a man's way of explaining his own I LIKE."
On Thursday, Christine and I took our usual night train down to Cairo. We woke up early in the morning in the Cairo team's apartment (about 6:45AM) in order to drink some tea, eat some bread, and get in Faraq's cab for yet another exhilirating ride - to the bus station this time. He doesn't realize that its not always funny to pretend as if he's going to hit you with his car as he swerves around the corner. Egyptian drivers must take pride in the precision, as the roads indeed require them to pass within centimeters of cars and pedestrians as they speed around like pinballs in the city, narrowly swerving to avoid tragedy every five seconds. Well anyway, we went to the hostel first to pick up our bust tickets (Mody had arranged this whole weekend excursion for Christine, Julie and I) and itinerary and then sped off to the station. We were there a little early, so we took the chance to stand around idly before sitting on the bus odyssey that would last for five hours in one of the most unforgiving, desolate, remote parts of the terra firma world. The Sahara!
Per usual we snailed through the Giza suburbs and then out to the desert on the road to Baharaia. It was unsurpisingly dull and I'm sure I thought of myriad topics while I balanced my backpack on my suffering knees and daydreamed of sleep (I'd only had a few hours of sleep in the last since the previous morning). By my standard I was exhausted. Sleep is one of my greatest pastimes.
PART II
Well I bored myself yesterday and stopped writing, but I'll pick up here again. Traveling in the desert is a bit of a romantic thing. Most things are when you have so much time to fill your head with dreams and such lack of stimulae that they become surprisingly creative and more and more distant from the things that anchor us to the world. The only trouble is that it's impossible to record daydreams, so it takes a truly good artist to capture one of them in writing. That's my theory on how the novel is born. We all must more or less be novelists on the inside though, we just don't all get credit for it.
Well we came to Baharaia. On the way there the terrain became more and more Martian until spurts of defiant greenery began to sprout magically out of the sand (although quite feebly at first). Pools of golden sand intriguingly collect in the depressions of rock and create fascinating patterns and textures for the eyes: a prelude to the magnificent displays of geology that were in store. Geology is a poor choice of word because it is so scientific, so pretend I've written it to point out the following. Much of what we saw in the western desert seemed like a supernatural being's (dare I say God???) laboratory of earth. With no natural forces at work but the breeze and persistent sun, strange fields of rock formation sprouted from the ground, different from one to the next, as if a (ahem) god had simply started to mold some prototypes, gotten bored, and left them in the most vast and remote desert in the world (discounting Antarctica...) for safe keeping. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
After a few false stops in green patches outside of the main town, our bus came to a final halt and we stumbled off into a dusty, ages old, infantile town. A settlement that has lasted forever and never developed beyond its toddler stages. We had pre-arranged this desert "safari," so they were waiting for us when we got there and we were immediately whisked away with a few others in the back of a covered truck with standing room for dwarves through the main stretch of town to the outskirts (about a two minute drive...). They fed us lunch, gave us water, and prepared our jeep for the weekend while we waited. By 3:00 that afternoon everything was ready to go and we hopped in for another ride.
The first stop was at the tourism police office (a small room in the side of a nondescript building near the edge of town) where we signed away our lives in a neatly written letter that stated: "We do not want a policeman to come with us into the desert. Thank you." After that we circled back, got some firewood, (at one point our driver pointed to some chickens on the ground and asked us if we preferred brown or white...), and set off towards the black desert. It was a quiet ride out as we took in the breathtaking vistas that this part of the desert offered. It takes a while of getting used to "ugly deserts" and "pretty deserts," so just take my word for it (and for those that are lucky enough, I have examples of each on my camera...) It is called the black desert because of the layer of volcanic debris (we were told...) sprinkled neatly and uniformly over everything in little chunks. Very mysterious and equally beautiful, it was just a treat to soak in the whole scene. We stepped out as well to do a little exploring and climbing a little ways up one of the slopes.
The white desert was inspiring as well and offered many opportunities to get out of the jeep to frolic in the sand... Our last stop of the day was the most delightful. We swerved off the road at some point into the sand and continued until we reached a little sea of oddities. The desert leveled off and was suddenly abundant with these relatively small (about 10-20 feet high) ivory-white sculptures: mushrooms, donuts, a "chicken"... It was just a curious field that looked as if it should have inspired Dr. Seuss. So wandering through was a bit like spotting clouds in the sky. Each white glob in an otherwise pristine surrounding curiously shifting shape as it moves (or you move around it). The area was simply a lost playground - what it was doing hundreds of miles from the nearest settlement, who knows?
This was our campsite for the evening. After a bit of roaming around in the jeep, Matha selected a suitable place (by what criteria, I don't know...) and we stopped and he quickly went to work while we lazed about. We offered to help, but I think it would have slowed him down if he had accepted. Within moments (it seemed) a vertical, colorful, shelter had been erected next to the jeep in the shape of an L, mats and a small wooden table had been delicately laid over the sand, and a modest campfire had been started. All in time to watch the sunset over the whimsical landscape, spot some desert foxes (apparently they were quite used to visitors), take some pictures, and scribble in a journal until the natural light was extinguished (even with the campfire it was a little hard on the eyes...). It was as peaceful and serene a setting that I'd even been in. Instead of the stars illuminating our dinner the moon quite rose on the horizon opposite of the sun in full enthusiasm and cast a curious glow over the parched land as Matha, announced "yallah" and we sat down eagerly for the feast he had prepared. It was truthfully the best dinner I've had in Egypt so far - cooked over a pile of hot coals in the middle of the desert. Perhaps it was the setting, the hunger (I'd been nibbling on bread "stolen" from the lunch table all afternoon), or the exhaustion, but it was absolutely delicious and prepared by the ever-talented and efficient Matha. We ate mostly in silence with the exception of some compliments to our chef: rice, potatoes, and some sort of traditional sauce based on tomato with roasted chicken never tasted so good.
We were "in sleeping bag" shortly enough, lying where we had finished dinner only minutes ago on top of the mats. Matha made us take our shoes with us so that the curious desert foxes wouldn't steal them. He smoked shisha and drank tea by himself as the last of the embers cooled and we prepared for sleep. He had his own little spot setup a few yards away from us on the other side of a long, white, flat stone. The sleep was brilliant (a little uncomfortable at first with my sweatshirt as a pillow and fully dressed), but as soon as it started it didn't stop for a good ten hours. We woke up for tea and breakfast and soon afterwards were packing up camp and off towards the road again.
We stopped on the way back to Baharaia at one of the springs for a little swim/bath. The rest of the day was filled with driving and wandering around Baharaia until we made it back to the monstrous city of Cairo which just slowly eats up people immigrating into the city in the early evening. Once we hit Giza it seemed to take forever to make it to our stop where Faraq was waiting to take us back to the apartment. I'd begun grading quizzes by then and was ready to eat and rest.
Saturday night was slow and uneventful. Christine and I were up early the next morning to catch the train back to Alexandria. I finished grading the quizzes on the train and began to consider the week ahead and how I would manage to plan everything. And so on.
This week has been much more relaxed without the children's classes in the mornings. I've had time to take things slow and have fun in town. I spent the other day in the Library of Alexandria reading and writing. I managed to find their collection of American literature from which I selected The Old Man and the Sea and The Great Gatsby. And then yesterday I had my final day of actual teaching which is a little sad. It ended very abruptly.
We started the class with quotations and idioms. I selected these two pieces of wisdom from Albert Einstein:
"Imagination is more important than wisdom."
"You cannot simultaneously prepare for and prevent war."
The first one is far more interesting and for all of the unconvinced students, I summed it up for them like this: Anyone can read books, but it's not worth a damn until you've tried to write your own. As for a final thought about each of them I said that the first would be good advice for Egypt and the second would be good advice for America. (As for Egypt's advice, they understood and agreed as I was speaking for the educational system. It is much more focused on teaching the facts than it is concerned with creativity...). From there we moved into our last lessons from the book which were about speaking about expectations for my level 8, and speaking about the future for my level 9. Interestingly appropriate for endings, I think. Anyway, I'm running out of steam for now. Sorry that I wrote this in two chunks, it might be a little disconnected... I might even give it a read through!
Jake
PART I
Things are starting to wrap up here at AMlDEA$T as my teaching duties will be coming to a close this week. I have just a few more classes to teach, some exams to give, and then some exams to grade before I'll be finished and feeling perplexed with too much time on my hands. I'm officially cut loose from AMlDEA$T on the 27th, but I've managed to secure the guest house we've been living in for an extra few days. Then they'll really give me the boot on the 31st at which point I'll be heading to Cairo to do some tourist stuff, but they'll be giving me my train tickets and everything - they've taken pretty good care of us.
So, this is possibly the last message you'll get containing any details of teaching experience (although so far I think most of my messages have been concerned with travel adventures, foreign impressions, and cultural faux pas). Anyway, I avoid the teaching bit because it is hard to talk about all of the subtle pleasures of teaching as well as all of the tedious planning that goes into it. The classes for the adults ended up being far more structured than I expected, but on the other hand the children's classes were mostly improvisation. I don't think I talked about all of the early mornings (6:00AM) I spent getting ready for my 10:00AM class. I usually managed to pull it off with minimal stress, but the sleep deprivation often began to show by the end of the week. I like teaching. I don't know what my students will do with their knowledge - who will succeed and who will fail - but it's been a positive experience for everyone. They are all very motivated, and for most the Egyptian style of teaching seems to have failed them miserably. That's why, in the children's classes especially, we try to teach them creativity. As with most younger children, its not the content of the course, but rather the thinking skills that they develop that will help them in the future. This is something that the Egyptian schools seem to be tragically neglecting (from what I understand). There have been awkward classroom crushes, debates about politics and various discussions about the problems and solutions of countless topics relevant to Egypt and the world (global warming, unemployment, pollution, traffic...) As I mentioned, the students give presentations which are usually hit or miss (sometimes quite dull, but other times very intriguing and thoughtful topics). We begin every class with English idioms or quotes. Last time we did these:
"An eye for an eye only makes the whole world blind." - Ghandi
"Never look down on anybody unless you're helping him up." - Jesse Jackson
I explained what an activist is and we debated Hammurabi's "eye for an eye." The same expression exists in Arabic, and when I asked who agreed with Hammurabi and who agreed with Ghandi (in both classes) the only people who agreed with Ghandi were myself and one of my female students, Hanan (one of the brightest in the class). The debate that followed sort of embodied some important cultural aspects of the arab world (or at least my narrow impressions). The thought of forgiveness was much overshadowed by the concept of "revenge" or "punishment." One student who was quite firm in his opinion cited the benefits of this rule: in Saudi Arabia no one steals. The reason? They cut your hands off... Perhaps this rule does work more-or-less as a deterrence, but it only works by creating fear. I believe (and I should have thought to explain this to them), that people shouldn't be forced into behaving ethically by fear, but rather by education (or understanding, morality, whatever you call it). Perhaps I don't know enough about Islam, but I can imagine that is supports the "fear and behave" system, as most religions do. Anyhow, they had trouble grasping my point of view that if someone stabs me in the eye, I wouldn't stab them back because it wouldn't do any good. The the chaotic spiral of self-destruction... Any suggestions for some final quotes to discuss?
Well anyway, in my opinion the greatest thing of teaching is getting to know your students. I think a lot of people probably begin teaching with their ideals (I want to pass on knowledge, to empower these people, to end the cycle of poverty, to provide access to a better future, the ability to self-actualize, etc...) and end up either enjoying the job or not. Although you might be doing these things (or not) what will truly determine the quality of your experience is whether you like it or not. So I definitely took a bit of a gamble here as I am a bit of a romantic idealist. Anyway, as I already said, I am quite lucky in that I enjoyed my time here immensely. If you have a copy of Jack London's Cruise of the Snark lying around, there is a passage in the very beginning about the words "I like." There is no need to justify these words, or back them up with philosophical rhetoric, and thus they are beautiful. There is nothing to question about likes and dislikes, nothing to debate, or contemplate, or reason to ask "why." Sometimes people do ask why, and usually the answers are pretty poor (and if the answers are based on some sort of ideal or philosophy, the person is probably either being pressured or a good liar). Anyway, I found that I like teaching and I'm not really doing it now to save the world (even though for perhaps a few it will be a nice side effect).
(Note: this was written in two long breaths. The first one yesterday, and the second one today. Today I briefly did a little searching and found the quotation that I had referenced. I try not to quote often, but this is one of my favorites...):
"The ultimate word is I LIKE. It lies beneath philosophy, and is twined about the heart of life. When philosophy has maundered ponderously for a month, telling the individual what he must do, the individual says, in an instant, "I LIKE," and does something else, and philosophy goes glimmering. It is I LIKE that makes the drunkard drink and the martyr wear a hair shirt; that makes one man a reveller and another man an anchorite; that makes one man pursue fame, another gold, another love, and another God. Philosophy is very often a man's way of explaining his own I LIKE."
On Thursday, Christine and I took our usual night train down to Cairo. We woke up early in the morning in the Cairo team's apartment (about 6:45AM) in order to drink some tea, eat some bread, and get in Faraq's cab for yet another exhilirating ride - to the bus station this time. He doesn't realize that its not always funny to pretend as if he's going to hit you with his car as he swerves around the corner. Egyptian drivers must take pride in the precision, as the roads indeed require them to pass within centimeters of cars and pedestrians as they speed around like pinballs in the city, narrowly swerving to avoid tragedy every five seconds. Well anyway, we went to the hostel first to pick up our bust tickets (Mody had arranged this whole weekend excursion for Christine, Julie and I) and itinerary and then sped off to the station. We were there a little early, so we took the chance to stand around idly before sitting on the bus odyssey that would last for five hours in one of the most unforgiving, desolate, remote parts of the terra firma world. The Sahara!
Per usual we snailed through the Giza suburbs and then out to the desert on the road to Baharaia. It was unsurpisingly dull and I'm sure I thought of myriad topics while I balanced my backpack on my suffering knees and daydreamed of sleep (I'd only had a few hours of sleep in the last since the previous morning). By my standard I was exhausted. Sleep is one of my greatest pastimes.
PART II
Well I bored myself yesterday and stopped writing, but I'll pick up here again. Traveling in the desert is a bit of a romantic thing. Most things are when you have so much time to fill your head with dreams and such lack of stimulae that they become surprisingly creative and more and more distant from the things that anchor us to the world. The only trouble is that it's impossible to record daydreams, so it takes a truly good artist to capture one of them in writing. That's my theory on how the novel is born. We all must more or less be novelists on the inside though, we just don't all get credit for it.
Well we came to Baharaia. On the way there the terrain became more and more Martian until spurts of defiant greenery began to sprout magically out of the sand (although quite feebly at first). Pools of golden sand intriguingly collect in the depressions of rock and create fascinating patterns and textures for the eyes: a prelude to the magnificent displays of geology that were in store. Geology is a poor choice of word because it is so scientific, so pretend I've written it to point out the following. Much of what we saw in the western desert seemed like a supernatural being's (dare I say God???) laboratory of earth. With no natural forces at work but the breeze and persistent sun, strange fields of rock formation sprouted from the ground, different from one to the next, as if a (ahem) god had simply started to mold some prototypes, gotten bored, and left them in the most vast and remote desert in the world (discounting Antarctica...) for safe keeping. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
After a few false stops in green patches outside of the main town, our bus came to a final halt and we stumbled off into a dusty, ages old, infantile town. A settlement that has lasted forever and never developed beyond its toddler stages. We had pre-arranged this desert "safari," so they were waiting for us when we got there and we were immediately whisked away with a few others in the back of a covered truck with standing room for dwarves through the main stretch of town to the outskirts (about a two minute drive...). They fed us lunch, gave us water, and prepared our jeep for the weekend while we waited. By 3:00 that afternoon everything was ready to go and we hopped in for another ride.
The first stop was at the tourism police office (a small room in the side of a nondescript building near the edge of town) where we signed away our lives in a neatly written letter that stated: "We do not want a policeman to come with us into the desert. Thank you." After that we circled back, got some firewood, (at one point our driver pointed to some chickens on the ground and asked us if we preferred brown or white...), and set off towards the black desert. It was a quiet ride out as we took in the breathtaking vistas that this part of the desert offered. It takes a while of getting used to "ugly deserts" and "pretty deserts," so just take my word for it (and for those that are lucky enough, I have examples of each on my camera...) It is called the black desert because of the layer of volcanic debris (we were told...) sprinkled neatly and uniformly over everything in little chunks. Very mysterious and equally beautiful, it was just a treat to soak in the whole scene. We stepped out as well to do a little exploring and climbing a little ways up one of the slopes.
The white desert was inspiring as well and offered many opportunities to get out of the jeep to frolic in the sand... Our last stop of the day was the most delightful. We swerved off the road at some point into the sand and continued until we reached a little sea of oddities. The desert leveled off and was suddenly abundant with these relatively small (about 10-20 feet high) ivory-white sculptures: mushrooms, donuts, a "chicken"... It was just a curious field that looked as if it should have inspired Dr. Seuss. So wandering through was a bit like spotting clouds in the sky. Each white glob in an otherwise pristine surrounding curiously shifting shape as it moves (or you move around it). The area was simply a lost playground - what it was doing hundreds of miles from the nearest settlement, who knows?
This was our campsite for the evening. After a bit of roaming around in the jeep, Matha selected a suitable place (by what criteria, I don't know...) and we stopped and he quickly went to work while we lazed about. We offered to help, but I think it would have slowed him down if he had accepted. Within moments (it seemed) a vertical, colorful, shelter had been erected next to the jeep in the shape of an L, mats and a small wooden table had been delicately laid over the sand, and a modest campfire had been started. All in time to watch the sunset over the whimsical landscape, spot some desert foxes (apparently they were quite used to visitors), take some pictures, and scribble in a journal until the natural light was extinguished (even with the campfire it was a little hard on the eyes...). It was as peaceful and serene a setting that I'd even been in. Instead of the stars illuminating our dinner the moon quite rose on the horizon opposite of the sun in full enthusiasm and cast a curious glow over the parched land as Matha, announced "yallah" and we sat down eagerly for the feast he had prepared. It was truthfully the best dinner I've had in Egypt so far - cooked over a pile of hot coals in the middle of the desert. Perhaps it was the setting, the hunger (I'd been nibbling on bread "stolen" from the lunch table all afternoon), or the exhaustion, but it was absolutely delicious and prepared by the ever-talented and efficient Matha. We ate mostly in silence with the exception of some compliments to our chef: rice, potatoes, and some sort of traditional sauce based on tomato with roasted chicken never tasted so good.
We were "in sleeping bag" shortly enough, lying where we had finished dinner only minutes ago on top of the mats. Matha made us take our shoes with us so that the curious desert foxes wouldn't steal them. He smoked shisha and drank tea by himself as the last of the embers cooled and we prepared for sleep. He had his own little spot setup a few yards away from us on the other side of a long, white, flat stone. The sleep was brilliant (a little uncomfortable at first with my sweatshirt as a pillow and fully dressed), but as soon as it started it didn't stop for a good ten hours. We woke up for tea and breakfast and soon afterwards were packing up camp and off towards the road again.
We stopped on the way back to Baharaia at one of the springs for a little swim/bath. The rest of the day was filled with driving and wandering around Baharaia until we made it back to the monstrous city of Cairo which just slowly eats up people immigrating into the city in the early evening. Once we hit Giza it seemed to take forever to make it to our stop where Faraq was waiting to take us back to the apartment. I'd begun grading quizzes by then and was ready to eat and rest.
Saturday night was slow and uneventful. Christine and I were up early the next morning to catch the train back to Alexandria. I finished grading the quizzes on the train and began to consider the week ahead and how I would manage to plan everything. And so on.
This week has been much more relaxed without the children's classes in the mornings. I've had time to take things slow and have fun in town. I spent the other day in the Library of Alexandria reading and writing. I managed to find their collection of American literature from which I selected The Old Man and the Sea and The Great Gatsby. And then yesterday I had my final day of actual teaching which is a little sad. It ended very abruptly.
We started the class with quotations and idioms. I selected these two pieces of wisdom from Albert Einstein:
"Imagination is more important than wisdom."
"You cannot simultaneously prepare for and prevent war."
The first one is far more interesting and for all of the unconvinced students, I summed it up for them like this: Anyone can read books, but it's not worth a damn until you've tried to write your own. As for a final thought about each of them I said that the first would be good advice for Egypt and the second would be good advice for America. (As for Egypt's advice, they understood and agreed as I was speaking for the educational system. It is much more focused on teaching the facts than it is concerned with creativity...). From there we moved into our last lessons from the book which were about speaking about expectations for my level 8, and speaking about the future for my level 9. Interestingly appropriate for endings, I think. Anyway, I'm running out of steam for now. Sorry that I wrote this in two chunks, it might be a little disconnected... I might even give it a read through!
Jake
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Betch. By Daniel-- I'm in Cairo right now full from Gad and sitting in the AC--Accommodating Scott Smith
So, I’m a big fat flake. I am dreadful at “checking in,” “staying in touch,” and “updating,” and what ever else have you, if you haven’t already deduced. So here’s my first (and let’s face it, probably my last) post. Before I get into the juicy details of Egypt (yes, in my world, even the arid desert and its eroding cities are juicy, thanks), I want to have a bit of a pleasant preamble.
First thing’s first: Jake, your last post (I haven’t read any others, unfortunately) was a real delight. I think everyone participating in this blog, as readers and writers alike, can learn a thing or two from your poetic prose.
Next: I should account for my flakiness. In addition to my frank lack of inclination and desire to chronicle my time here in Egypt, I haven’t had a real, substantial internet connection for a reasonable amount of time since I left Cairo mid-June. So there.
Third: Some of my hella-fabulous LE volunteers recounted an event that happened here, on this blog that was just downright riling (which, you better believe I’ll use as an excuse to account for the aforementioned laziness and apathy I’ve had). In response, (please pardon if you feel I’m being belligerent) let me just say that is our duty and responsibility to candidly and unrestrictedly recount the happenings and occurrences of our travels. Indeed, not to tell the whole truth, not to capture the emotion of the moment, not to accurately and comprehensively account for every significant detail is to defeat the purpose of this blog. A blog shouldn’t be a portrait but a snapshot. Take home message: Long live the freedom of speech, thank you very much.
After that: For future reference, Wikipedia has a fascinating and illuminating article about blogs. I’d like to direct you to the section titled, “Political dangers.” There’s a few lines about happenings in Egypt in the recent past.
Finally: I apologize for the characteristic American arrogance and self-righteousness that I’ve just embodied. I honestly couldn’t care less if I don’t get to bitch blatantly about someone or something. I just want there to be a bit of drama here in our communal writing space.
~Juicy~
One last thing before my update: this is the theme song to my stay in Egypt, which is both juicy and fruity: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8FPnCLo4tLI I especially love the part, “I’ll be your lollipop, you can lick me everywhere.”
If I am not incorrect, I do believe the primary purpose of this particular blog—implied by the “LE” in the title—is to detail our experience teaching. So, I’ll be brief with relating the typical foreigner in a foreign country experience.
—First Impressions of Cairo—
Dirty. Hot. Busy. Old. Ugly. Thrilling. Intriguing.
I got off the airport shuttle bus to find my luggage had been lost (big surprise—I always lose it). As I was waiting in a very short line that was taking a century to queue, I saw four people smoking cigarettes in doors. Hmm, I guess Egypt isn’t a clean-air state like California and Florida. Saw Aminah—what a goddess!—and went to the lovely hostel. The guys there are hella-enthusiastic and energetic, possibly hyperactive. It was infectious despite jet lag and the Sahara sun. I instantly fell in love with the fresh juice and the rippling haze of sheesha. The air-conditioned rooms and blankets that weren’t secretly rugs of New President’s Hotel were a welcomed after Desert Safari. Orientation was quaint, though I did have a terrible case of the shits (I hope you don’t mind my deliberately crude and grotesque diction. I’d like to add some texture to our blog, if you will). A case that followed me to El Minya!
—First Impressions of other Volunteers—
Down-to-earth. Compassionate. Sincere (at times painfully). Affluent. Fabulous.
I held my judgment until I got to know them—which really means, if I let the true “Mean Girl” show, I wasn’t immediately overtaken with the desire to be friends with all of them at first interaction; I just coasted along, mostly getting to know Amy Aminah Teachout (she’s such a goddess!). But I have to say, it turns out that all of the volunteers have a place in Egypt, and most definitely a place in my life and heart. Amy Aminah Teachout, the goddess!, did a stupendous job picking us. GHURL, okkaaayyy.
—First Impressions of Minya—
Small. Beautiful. Relaxing. Cleaner than Cairo. Christian.
Like I said up there, the shits came with me all the way from Cairo to Minya. So I was pretty out of it and indifferent to everything and everyone when I first arrived. After my bowels were sterile from all of the evacuation that took place, I was my normal self and began to appreciate humanity and nature again. The contacts that Amy Aminah Teachout (the goddess) was in contact with (hah!) were quite pleasant. All of the people that we work with instantly seemed like family and honestly couldn’t do one thing more to make us feel welcomed and wanted. Bless their hearts! I also noticed that I was surrounded by Christians even though I was in a Muslim country. Not what I wanted, I must say. But you know, it the same thing as air conditioners and hot water—everyone would like to have them in their flats, but sometimes you just got to live with out. I happen to be without AC, hot water (technically I do, but in order for it to work you have to make the water pressure so high that it feels like a sandblaster. And quite frankly, I’m sick of sand.), AND Muslims. Damn. =>
—Teaching—
I love teaching and I love my students. They are not nearly as underprivileged and impoverished as I imagined they would be, and I was absolutely jaded by that. I have four classes that meet three times a week for two hours. Two are adult and the other two are children, of course, separated by proficiency. For the higher-level classes, I immediately told them that our class is a “family,” and in families we are all equal and must have our voices heard. They love the idea and so do I. It makes me feel more connected with them.
I start each class having the student recount his or her day up until the start of class. I then have them listen to music and fill in the missing words on the lyric sheet I hand out. They really like listening to Western music. For the final, I will give them a song I sang. I can’t wait to see their faces. After that, we sometimes discuss quotations from famous minds and souls and see whether we disagree or agree with them. Then we move on to the boring book (though I make it interesting and relate it to their lives, or at least I try). It's great fun and a wonderful way to spend the summer. Even though they aren't starving and suffering from congenital HIV, they deserve and want to learn English in their own right; I have a student who works to make anti-child-labor laws in Egypt, a warrior against domestic violence, and another who has be awarded a Visa by lottery and will journey to the US to live the American Dream. Overall, I am terrifically satisfied.
I do have to say that I prefer my adult classes to my children classes. I just don’t the thought of having to entertain them for half of the class and teach for the other. Kids are just a bunch of brats. But I love them. And I enjoy seeing their faces, tired at 9AM, and dreadfully confused because I am talking to them like they understand every word I’m saying. I like teaching them life lessons most; don’t act like a baby without its bottle when I have you a crap load of homework; if you can’t say sorry, then you can sit out side, thank you very much; and my favorite: yes, you do have to do the homework all over again because you did it totally wrong the first time.
That is not to say that I’m a complete totalitarian jackass and jerk. I sometimes pat them on the back when the come to class in the mornings—sometimes. Nah, just kidding. I like to play games with them and have them draw pictures. They love Simon Says and Heads Up, Seven Up. I think they’re happy, and I think I am too.
I have been quite fortunate to get to know some of my students quite well. Since I told the classes that we are big families united by the product of British Imperialism and American Capitalism, I’ve welcomed any and every opportunity to meet with my students outside of the class. This means delicious carbohydrate packed feasts at their houses! I got to look at family albums of two different students, smoke sheesha and drink a few beers with three others, learn to make falafel with another—my time in Minya has been quite the experience despite my dissatisfaction with some of the people and lifestyles with which they live. I think when you eliminate that inherent “I’m the teacher, you’re the student” boundary, things become loads more fulfilling for both you and the students. Always, always, always level the playing field. Make them feel just as important as they see you. (Mind you, this only works of the adults. You need a belt for the brats).
So, this isn't as juicy as I thought it'd be-- I was going to tell tales of delicious men in Minya, judging and condescending meanies, unhygienic, impolite, and uncourteous smelly men, people who look at you like Freudian Slabs of Meat to be 'tenderized', potential hookups, nasty videos on cell phones that make you sick to your stomach, sheesha that makes you puke, trains that smell like there are decaying bodies stashed somewhere, tourist police who put you into quarantine EVERY time you go the station, taxi drives that tell lies to get your guinea, old women who want to tap you, grown men who act younger than 12 years old-- you know, the usual, "I cannot believe I'm seeing/hearing/smelling/tasting/feeling this" that one usually finds in a foreign country.
Oh, there is so much more to tell—of personal transformation, validation, and affirmation; of tolerated domestic violence and a divided country with identity problems; and of life philosophy and the role “global volunteerism” should take in everyone’s life. Perhaps I’ll write again.
Okay BETCHES, I hope you all are enjoying yourselves: Julie, Jake, and Christine, your exquisitely romantic night out in the desert; Steve your bonding with the Minyans (get it!? Hah, what a hoot). Sam and I had a superb weekend: can you say partaaayy with booze, strobes, making out, hot women and men, AND western music. Appreciate. =>
I love you guys. I hope that we can get together one last time before we diverge. Julie—I am starting to doubt my traveling abroad plans. It just doesn’t seem meant to be. We’ll, talk. I will be coming to Cairo again next weekend for just two days—I have to pay Sam back (I didn’t bring enough money again—dumb ass, I know) and I want to see you guys one last time. Christine and Jake, what’re your plans for life after LE?
CALL ME: 0185554400
Holluuhh.
First thing’s first: Jake, your last post (I haven’t read any others, unfortunately) was a real delight. I think everyone participating in this blog, as readers and writers alike, can learn a thing or two from your poetic prose.
Next: I should account for my flakiness. In addition to my frank lack of inclination and desire to chronicle my time here in Egypt, I haven’t had a real, substantial internet connection for a reasonable amount of time since I left Cairo mid-June. So there.
Third: Some of my hella-fabulous LE volunteers recounted an event that happened here, on this blog that was just downright riling (which, you better believe I’ll use as an excuse to account for the aforementioned laziness and apathy I’ve had). In response, (please pardon if you feel I’m being belligerent) let me just say that is our duty and responsibility to candidly and unrestrictedly recount the happenings and occurrences of our travels. Indeed, not to tell the whole truth, not to capture the emotion of the moment, not to accurately and comprehensively account for every significant detail is to defeat the purpose of this blog. A blog shouldn’t be a portrait but a snapshot. Take home message: Long live the freedom of speech, thank you very much.
After that: For future reference, Wikipedia has a fascinating and illuminating article about blogs. I’d like to direct you to the section titled, “Political dangers.” There’s a few lines about happenings in Egypt in the recent past.
Finally: I apologize for the characteristic American arrogance and self-righteousness that I’ve just embodied. I honestly couldn’t care less if I don’t get to bitch blatantly about someone or something. I just want there to be a bit of drama here in our communal writing space.
~Juicy~
One last thing before my update: this is the theme song to my stay in Egypt, which is both juicy and fruity: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8FPnCLo4tLI I especially love the part, “I’ll be your lollipop, you can lick me everywhere.”
If I am not incorrect, I do believe the primary purpose of this particular blog—implied by the “LE” in the title—is to detail our experience teaching. So, I’ll be brief with relating the typical foreigner in a foreign country experience.
—First Impressions of Cairo—
Dirty. Hot. Busy. Old. Ugly. Thrilling. Intriguing.
I got off the airport shuttle bus to find my luggage had been lost (big surprise—I always lose it). As I was waiting in a very short line that was taking a century to queue, I saw four people smoking cigarettes in doors. Hmm, I guess Egypt isn’t a clean-air state like California and Florida. Saw Aminah—what a goddess!—and went to the lovely hostel. The guys there are hella-enthusiastic and energetic, possibly hyperactive. It was infectious despite jet lag and the Sahara sun. I instantly fell in love with the fresh juice and the rippling haze of sheesha. The air-conditioned rooms and blankets that weren’t secretly rugs of New President’s Hotel were a welcomed after Desert Safari. Orientation was quaint, though I did have a terrible case of the shits (I hope you don’t mind my deliberately crude and grotesque diction. I’d like to add some texture to our blog, if you will). A case that followed me to El Minya!
—First Impressions of other Volunteers—
Down-to-earth. Compassionate. Sincere (at times painfully). Affluent. Fabulous.
I held my judgment until I got to know them—which really means, if I let the true “Mean Girl” show, I wasn’t immediately overtaken with the desire to be friends with all of them at first interaction; I just coasted along, mostly getting to know Amy Aminah Teachout (she’s such a goddess!). But I have to say, it turns out that all of the volunteers have a place in Egypt, and most definitely a place in my life and heart. Amy Aminah Teachout, the goddess!, did a stupendous job picking us. GHURL, okkaaayyy.
—First Impressions of Minya—
Small. Beautiful. Relaxing. Cleaner than Cairo. Christian.
Like I said up there, the shits came with me all the way from Cairo to Minya. So I was pretty out of it and indifferent to everything and everyone when I first arrived. After my bowels were sterile from all of the evacuation that took place, I was my normal self and began to appreciate humanity and nature again. The contacts that Amy Aminah Teachout (the goddess) was in contact with (hah!) were quite pleasant. All of the people that we work with instantly seemed like family and honestly couldn’t do one thing more to make us feel welcomed and wanted. Bless their hearts! I also noticed that I was surrounded by Christians even though I was in a Muslim country. Not what I wanted, I must say. But you know, it the same thing as air conditioners and hot water—everyone would like to have them in their flats, but sometimes you just got to live with out. I happen to be without AC, hot water (technically I do, but in order for it to work you have to make the water pressure so high that it feels like a sandblaster. And quite frankly, I’m sick of sand.), AND Muslims. Damn. =>
—Teaching—
I love teaching and I love my students. They are not nearly as underprivileged and impoverished as I imagined they would be, and I was absolutely jaded by that. I have four classes that meet three times a week for two hours. Two are adult and the other two are children, of course, separated by proficiency. For the higher-level classes, I immediately told them that our class is a “family,” and in families we are all equal and must have our voices heard. They love the idea and so do I. It makes me feel more connected with them.
I start each class having the student recount his or her day up until the start of class. I then have them listen to music and fill in the missing words on the lyric sheet I hand out. They really like listening to Western music. For the final, I will give them a song I sang. I can’t wait to see their faces. After that, we sometimes discuss quotations from famous minds and souls and see whether we disagree or agree with them. Then we move on to the boring book (though I make it interesting and relate it to their lives, or at least I try). It's great fun and a wonderful way to spend the summer. Even though they aren't starving and suffering from congenital HIV, they deserve and want to learn English in their own right; I have a student who works to make anti-child-labor laws in Egypt, a warrior against domestic violence, and another who has be awarded a Visa by lottery and will journey to the US to live the American Dream. Overall, I am terrifically satisfied.
I do have to say that I prefer my adult classes to my children classes. I just don’t the thought of having to entertain them for half of the class and teach for the other. Kids are just a bunch of brats. But I love them. And I enjoy seeing their faces, tired at 9AM, and dreadfully confused because I am talking to them like they understand every word I’m saying. I like teaching them life lessons most; don’t act like a baby without its bottle when I have you a crap load of homework; if you can’t say sorry, then you can sit out side, thank you very much; and my favorite: yes, you do have to do the homework all over again because you did it totally wrong the first time.
That is not to say that I’m a complete totalitarian jackass and jerk. I sometimes pat them on the back when the come to class in the mornings—sometimes. Nah, just kidding. I like to play games with them and have them draw pictures. They love Simon Says and Heads Up, Seven Up. I think they’re happy, and I think I am too.
I have been quite fortunate to get to know some of my students quite well. Since I told the classes that we are big families united by the product of British Imperialism and American Capitalism, I’ve welcomed any and every opportunity to meet with my students outside of the class. This means delicious carbohydrate packed feasts at their houses! I got to look at family albums of two different students, smoke sheesha and drink a few beers with three others, learn to make falafel with another—my time in Minya has been quite the experience despite my dissatisfaction with some of the people and lifestyles with which they live. I think when you eliminate that inherent “I’m the teacher, you’re the student” boundary, things become loads more fulfilling for both you and the students. Always, always, always level the playing field. Make them feel just as important as they see you. (Mind you, this only works of the adults. You need a belt for the brats).
So, this isn't as juicy as I thought it'd be-- I was going to tell tales of delicious men in Minya, judging and condescending meanies, unhygienic, impolite, and uncourteous smelly men, people who look at you like Freudian Slabs of Meat to be 'tenderized', potential hookups, nasty videos on cell phones that make you sick to your stomach, sheesha that makes you puke, trains that smell like there are decaying bodies stashed somewhere, tourist police who put you into quarantine EVERY time you go the station, taxi drives that tell lies to get your guinea, old women who want to tap you, grown men who act younger than 12 years old-- you know, the usual, "I cannot believe I'm seeing/hearing/smelling/tasting/feeling this" that one usually finds in a foreign country.
Oh, there is so much more to tell—of personal transformation, validation, and affirmation; of tolerated domestic violence and a divided country with identity problems; and of life philosophy and the role “global volunteerism” should take in everyone’s life. Perhaps I’ll write again.
Okay BETCHES, I hope you all are enjoying yourselves: Julie, Jake, and Christine, your exquisitely romantic night out in the desert; Steve your bonding with the Minyans (get it!? Hah, what a hoot). Sam and I had a superb weekend: can you say partaaayy with booze, strobes, making out, hot women and men, AND western music. Appreciate. =>
I love you guys. I hope that we can get together one last time before we diverge. Julie—I am starting to doubt my traveling abroad plans. It just doesn’t seem meant to be. We’ll, talk. I will be coming to Cairo again next weekend for just two days—I have to pay Sam back (I didn’t bring enough money again—dumb ass, I know) and I want to see you guys one last time. Christine and Jake, what’re your plans for life after LE?
CALL ME: 0185554400
Holluuhh.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
The Beginning of Ends
Salutations!
Today was a momentous day as I finished teaching children. We ended with a day on Greek Mythology. On Wednesday’s we spend the entire four hours in the morning together, so sometimes it takes quite a lot to keep them focused for the whole time, but we managed to pull through the early part of the morning and make it into the afternoon for the grand finale – a little drama in the garden. I asked them to work in groups to adapt different Greek myths (Perseus and Medusa, Theseus and the Minotaur, and Icharus and Daedalus) into short plays much like how we did Shakespeare. It actually ended up being far more professional and we were able to move outside into the delightful sunlight and idyllic setting of the garden for a little theater in the round (I make it sound much more romantic than it actually was). Although it was much less discombobulated than Shakespeare was (we laid down some ground rules this time for proper theater etiquette: no running around while people are performing, yelling, talking, milling about aimlessly…), there is still much room for improvement in their drama skills. No worry though – the scripts were spot-on which is all that matters for an English class. Anyhow, I think I’ll circle back to the kiddos by the end of this letter.
The adult classes will continue on for another week. I’m actually pausing halfway through writing my tests for them tomorrow in order to write this letter. The first draft of it was tragically lost about two hours ago – so all of my epic witticisms and poetic nuances will be lost in the depths of time, those beautiful moments before I lost an hour of my life and all of that labor, those moments before I yelled some expletives in the otherwise tranquil guest house, and before I regained control of my temper, cut my losses, and put my mind to something else. Never again will I write letters in risky fashion of the outlook textbox in my Brown webmail account… For those of you who don’t grasp what I mean by this (I’m sure few of you do), don’t worry. I’m just venting.
Anyhow, teaching becomes easier, it seems, with each class. Perhaps as it becomes more routine to stand and improvise in front of forty or more foreign people each day, it becomes more routine, and my demeanor less serious without compromising control over the class. I mean its getting delightfully more casual. I’ve discovered that my students love to hear anecdotes from their silly foreign teacher about how it is to be navigating in their strange and complicated culture for the first time. They enjoy hearing of how I discover the nuances that they are so familiar with and yet seem to bewildering to me. Egypt is a country that has an extremely large amount of tourism and very few immigrants from the Western world. So, I suppose there are few of us who pick up on the deeper aspects – the little things – and appreciate them as uniquely Egyptian. I’m sure it gives them a sense of pride and humor when I tell them about the new foods I’ve discovered on the weekends. So, we’ve started to begin our classes with stories. Typically my own, and I usually ask around for a while until an intrepid few offer up their tales of adventure for the class. Just last time one of my students who returned from Marsa Matruh (sp.?) talked about how hw sank a boat some distance of the coast and spent three hours swimming it back to shore. So we’re having more fun now and my students are all slowly earning their own dimension as my perspective shifts. Its like starting out with a two dimensional picture of these people and then slowly turning about all of them to see their different sides – how deep their characters go. I always find their stories fascinating as well as their opinions about various issues in the world. I often bring in articles for us to read. Recent ones include: Pamplona (the setting of one of Hemingway’s great works), food shortage and biofuel, the 2008 US election, a skyscraper being built in Dubai (a shape-shifting one!), the G8 summit, and so on.
Anyhow, last class I relayed some interesting stories to my students which perhaps this audience will find equally entertaining or of some meager cultural insight. When we last left off I had a successful Wednesday morning with my students as we discovered our great passion for drama. It was an epic afternoon of Shakespeare: tragedy that was redefined as comedy in Macbeth, Romeo and Juliet, and Hamlet, Prince of Denmark. Well, afterwards I spent the afternoon at the beach, and so on, awaiting m final class of adults the next night and our eventual trip down to Cairo on Thursday.
On Thursday afternoon before class Christine and I stocked up on delicious snacks for the 10:15 PM train ride from our new found bread shop and packed for the adventure. We taught our last class in the evening and left as quickly as possible. We had invited Gamel, a co-worker and friend, to accompany us on this weekend excursion: the more the merrier. So we three headed to the train station in a rush, made it there with minutes to spare, and in typical Egyptian fashion we waited about a half hour for our train (late per usual). I heard a recent expression recently (Pete) that usually goes with the army but I think it seems appropriate sometimes in Egypt: hurry up and wait.
We took the train down south to Cairo, slithering through the smaller towns at midnight. I slept most of the way and we arrived at about 2-2:30 AM. Last time I slept on the train Christine pointed out that I had black ink on one side of my face. It turn out that the plastic bag I was carrying with some soft things in it – an impromptu pillow! – turned out to be a poor decision as I had a nice string of Arabic numbers (phone number perhaps?) stamped across the side of my head for the weekend. But alas! We made it Cairo and hopped in a cab for Dokki. The Cairo team graciously offered us their apartment for the weekend as they would be absent, spending their time in hot, hot climate of Luxor/Aswan and soaking up the antiquities.
We set our alarms for 7:45 AM before crashing and Daniel arrived sometime in the night to complete our team (5:00AM?). Well anyway, he was up no more than three hours later as we departed for the bus station as our final destination for the weekend would take us out to the Fayyum: Egypt’s largest pseudo-oasis. We got on the bus about 15 minutes before it would take us for a 2-2.5 hour long trip through the desert. My knowledge is pathetically shallow for this topic, but I think that the Fayyum is about 100 miles from Cairo (in the SSW direction). Anywho, the bus was hot, unairconditioned, and full of interesting passengers, one of whom was particularly interested in our female companion, Christine, as he stared at her for the entire bus ride – literally.
We slowly made our way out of the city, out of the suburbs of Giza, and into the desert. The suburbs of Giza an Cairo are strange as they just seem to vast plains of towering apartment buildings of a drab, utilitarian style. Ugly to be frank. Everything is more or less the same dusty color, lacking in character, but in its own way unique. It is also a trend with many building to be left curiously unfinished as if a sudden plague swept over the works crews or they became extremely lazy, got up and left (or perhaps just figured their priorities of which construction was not one). 100 Years of Solitude anyone? Yet it is interesting because in all of these buildings we can see the process of Egyptian construction. On the first floor is the complete product, and gradually as the stories ascend they become less and less complete. The concrete finish gives way to a brick skeleton, and then at the peak are iron rods shooting into the sky suggesting that we are supposed to imagine that the rest of the building’s form would follow suit. Cairo, I think, is truly the anthill of the world. It seems to be a mound of infrastructure in a sandy patch of the map, sprouted up from the mysterious, life-breathing chasm that runs through it – the Nile. The metropolis: home to millions, quiet from a distance, and roaring with activity on this inside. Beyond the mound is nothing, but it tapers off a little in all directions until it stops at some point before the epicenter where life must be unbearable.
Anyhow, we soon darted off in this bus towards the Fayyum and I was soon asleep or not, I can’t exactly remember. I don’t think it would have mattered anyway. There is something about the desert that is very meditative. As in falling asleep, we first begin by allowing our minds to drift rapidly from topic to topic until everything is exhausted and thoughts slowly settle into themselves. Existence either quits or is extinguished and the idle fantasies of the mind either sprout up or not as in daydreams paradoxically inspired by vast planes of jejune wasteland. Anyway, at some point we are aroused from slumber and perhaps this is another dream? Hallucination? A dream, is something like the oasis of the mind, and is sometimes confused with reality: a colorful spot with wells from the imagination or sunken water tables that have somehow miraculously given life in these barren spots. With the Fayyum, waking up from this was something more like long stretch of lazily waking up and falling asleep again as on a Sunday morning. I had something of a “Charleton Heston wandering in the desert” expectation for my mental representation of “oasis” which would suddenly hit me (a bucket of water cruelly wakes one up in the morning from the trance of sleep) rather than a gradual Sunday morning laziness. But the gradual entry into to Fayyum was delightful. We passed through pastures of green first, dotted with homes in the distance, fig or date palms, and then slowly through the hamlet and into the bustling little town: medinat al-Fayyum.
We stepped off the bus and there was a simple process of thought that I experience that occurred in this order: 1.) This town is strangely large, how could this be an oasis? 2.) Now that I’m in the Fayyum, what do I do? The Fayyum’s center looked as if it could have been a couple city blocks taken from a quieter, more modest area of Cairo or Alex and dropped into the desert. Again in conflict with the image of date palms, tents, and a small watering hole that I had romantically envisioned. So, we had no idea what we would do in the Fayyum. Our knowledge pooled together probably consisted of little more than this: “the Fayyum is a small dot on the map about 100 miles SSW of Cairo. I have seen its name in print and therefore it is a destination to be beheld.” So, after talking with a couple taxi drivers, we decided it would be best to head to the closest café and sit and discuss our plans for the day over some fresh juice and enlist the help of a local waiter or two to assist us with our adventure.
After about an hour most of these goals had been accomplished as we sat in the second story of a quiet café with the remains of a couple rounds of mango juice in front of us. We decided that having a driver for the day would be the best way to see the area and he could take us to wherever he thought was worthwhile. Soon after some antsy waiting on my part (why do things in Egypt take so long?!?) our chariot had arrived and we climbed in and went to see what there was to see.
We stopped, oddly enough, at an uninspiring water wheel as our first destination. As intrepid journeyers we took the opportunity to stretch our legs, check out the novelty, and take a few pictures to document our day in the Fayyum. As Daniel, Christine, and I walked around this wheel and ignored the persistent merchants (they don’t see many foreign travelers in the summer) it seemed that Gamel had struck up a conversation with the tourist police who were hanging out by the wheel. And this along with the fact that there were merchants poised to sell us their cheap goods, confirmed the fact that this was actually a typical tourist hot-spot. The Fayyum seemed promising as it offered us this brilliant attraction: a simple wheel being turned by water. A point of pride indeed though for the people of Fayyum for it is the spot, I suppose, where all of the water that supplies them with life originates from. Anyhow, we wandered over to the tourist police and Gamel to see what was up. We took some (funny) pictures with them (they have very impressive “TOURIST POLICE” sleeve badgery) and asked what the deal was. Apparently when Westerners (especially of white, American or British variety) visit the area they are supposed to notify the police in order to get an armed escort for the day.
It seems, from what I gather, that years ago (in the 1990s) there was a series of deadly terrorist attacks on tourists in Egypt. Some of them originated from the Fayyum? After this there was some severe fallout: the tourism industry collapsed, international incident, etc. Now they are much more careful and ”police escort” seems to be one of the necessary precautions for visiting this charming oasis in the desert. Well, we were assured that it wouldn’t be a big problem if we simply told anyone who asked that we were Canadians! Alas! I can add “alternative identity source” to my list of useful aspects of Canada… Just kidding. But seriously.
Well we traveled to various places around the Fayyum: several more water wheels, a strange place called Seline where the police gave us a real fit about entering (oddly, there was absolutely nothing there to see really…), Lake Qarun, and pleasant drives through the countryside. It was simply nice to be out of the city for a day. It was nice to have very little to see. A lake, some fields, a little town. We ate the best Egyptian food that I’ve had yet in town – uncorrupted perhaps by however they mangle the same dishes in Cairo and Alex. All in all a nice, photogenic, relaxing experience. Lots of pictures of the dusty palette of color around the lake where the fishing boats seem to be resting on a mirror in the hot sun, the edge of the lake and far away desert melting into the sky…
Is this too poetic? Well we returned and spent the rest of the weekend in Cairo, watching some movies, hanging out, eating koshary, etc. We returned to Alex. on Saturday night and I spent the rest of my time before class the next day planning for the week an just milling around. Everything was more or less routine. Classes have been pushing through. With the kids we did pirates, magicians, and Greek mythology (as I already mentioned). We had some nice photo sessions and I think everyone was a little bit sad that the session was so brief (myself included). In my adult classes we’ve gotten into doing presentations every day and they always have interesting topics ranging from embryology (really…) to traveling abroad, Egyptian culture, personalities before and after work, the environment, a Tale of Two Cities (he botched this one on two occasions, but we’re waiting for the third), good manners, fuel cells, how to manipulate people… They’re very creative, but some are extremely shy. In fact, several have come to me now, curious to know how badly it will affect their grade if they don’t present at all. I’m sure they’ll all do fine though. Its very unusual for those who aren’t well into the business world to have to give these presentations. The Egyptian method of schooling is very much a “sit down and memorize” approach from what I gather. We’ll see.
I apologize for being so verbose this evening, but as soon as I finish writing this I must get back to work. I hope all who read this are well!
Jake
Today was a momentous day as I finished teaching children. We ended with a day on Greek Mythology. On Wednesday’s we spend the entire four hours in the morning together, so sometimes it takes quite a lot to keep them focused for the whole time, but we managed to pull through the early part of the morning and make it into the afternoon for the grand finale – a little drama in the garden. I asked them to work in groups to adapt different Greek myths (Perseus and Medusa, Theseus and the Minotaur, and Icharus and Daedalus) into short plays much like how we did Shakespeare. It actually ended up being far more professional and we were able to move outside into the delightful sunlight and idyllic setting of the garden for a little theater in the round (I make it sound much more romantic than it actually was). Although it was much less discombobulated than Shakespeare was (we laid down some ground rules this time for proper theater etiquette: no running around while people are performing, yelling, talking, milling about aimlessly…), there is still much room for improvement in their drama skills. No worry though – the scripts were spot-on which is all that matters for an English class. Anyhow, I think I’ll circle back to the kiddos by the end of this letter.
The adult classes will continue on for another week. I’m actually pausing halfway through writing my tests for them tomorrow in order to write this letter. The first draft of it was tragically lost about two hours ago – so all of my epic witticisms and poetic nuances will be lost in the depths of time, those beautiful moments before I lost an hour of my life and all of that labor, those moments before I yelled some expletives in the otherwise tranquil guest house, and before I regained control of my temper, cut my losses, and put my mind to something else. Never again will I write letters in risky fashion of the outlook textbox in my Brown webmail account… For those of you who don’t grasp what I mean by this (I’m sure few of you do), don’t worry. I’m just venting.
Anyhow, teaching becomes easier, it seems, with each class. Perhaps as it becomes more routine to stand and improvise in front of forty or more foreign people each day, it becomes more routine, and my demeanor less serious without compromising control over the class. I mean its getting delightfully more casual. I’ve discovered that my students love to hear anecdotes from their silly foreign teacher about how it is to be navigating in their strange and complicated culture for the first time. They enjoy hearing of how I discover the nuances that they are so familiar with and yet seem to bewildering to me. Egypt is a country that has an extremely large amount of tourism and very few immigrants from the Western world. So, I suppose there are few of us who pick up on the deeper aspects – the little things – and appreciate them as uniquely Egyptian. I’m sure it gives them a sense of pride and humor when I tell them about the new foods I’ve discovered on the weekends. So, we’ve started to begin our classes with stories. Typically my own, and I usually ask around for a while until an intrepid few offer up their tales of adventure for the class. Just last time one of my students who returned from Marsa Matruh (sp.?) talked about how hw sank a boat some distance of the coast and spent three hours swimming it back to shore. So we’re having more fun now and my students are all slowly earning their own dimension as my perspective shifts. Its like starting out with a two dimensional picture of these people and then slowly turning about all of them to see their different sides – how deep their characters go. I always find their stories fascinating as well as their opinions about various issues in the world. I often bring in articles for us to read. Recent ones include: Pamplona (the setting of one of Hemingway’s great works), food shortage and biofuel, the 2008 US election, a skyscraper being built in Dubai (a shape-shifting one!), the G8 summit, and so on.
Anyhow, last class I relayed some interesting stories to my students which perhaps this audience will find equally entertaining or of some meager cultural insight. When we last left off I had a successful Wednesday morning with my students as we discovered our great passion for drama. It was an epic afternoon of Shakespeare: tragedy that was redefined as comedy in Macbeth, Romeo and Juliet, and Hamlet, Prince of Denmark. Well, afterwards I spent the afternoon at the beach, and so on, awaiting m final class of adults the next night and our eventual trip down to Cairo on Thursday.
On Thursday afternoon before class Christine and I stocked up on delicious snacks for the 10:15 PM train ride from our new found bread shop and packed for the adventure. We taught our last class in the evening and left as quickly as possible. We had invited Gamel, a co-worker and friend, to accompany us on this weekend excursion: the more the merrier. So we three headed to the train station in a rush, made it there with minutes to spare, and in typical Egyptian fashion we waited about a half hour for our train (late per usual). I heard a recent expression recently (Pete) that usually goes with the army but I think it seems appropriate sometimes in Egypt: hurry up and wait.
We took the train down south to Cairo, slithering through the smaller towns at midnight. I slept most of the way and we arrived at about 2-2:30 AM. Last time I slept on the train Christine pointed out that I had black ink on one side of my face. It turn out that the plastic bag I was carrying with some soft things in it – an impromptu pillow! – turned out to be a poor decision as I had a nice string of Arabic numbers (phone number perhaps?) stamped across the side of my head for the weekend. But alas! We made it Cairo and hopped in a cab for Dokki. The Cairo team graciously offered us their apartment for the weekend as they would be absent, spending their time in hot, hot climate of Luxor/Aswan and soaking up the antiquities.
We set our alarms for 7:45 AM before crashing and Daniel arrived sometime in the night to complete our team (5:00AM?). Well anyway, he was up no more than three hours later as we departed for the bus station as our final destination for the weekend would take us out to the Fayyum: Egypt’s largest pseudo-oasis. We got on the bus about 15 minutes before it would take us for a 2-2.5 hour long trip through the desert. My knowledge is pathetically shallow for this topic, but I think that the Fayyum is about 100 miles from Cairo (in the SSW direction). Anywho, the bus was hot, unairconditioned, and full of interesting passengers, one of whom was particularly interested in our female companion, Christine, as he stared at her for the entire bus ride – literally.
We slowly made our way out of the city, out of the suburbs of Giza, and into the desert. The suburbs of Giza an Cairo are strange as they just seem to vast plains of towering apartment buildings of a drab, utilitarian style. Ugly to be frank. Everything is more or less the same dusty color, lacking in character, but in its own way unique. It is also a trend with many building to be left curiously unfinished as if a sudden plague swept over the works crews or they became extremely lazy, got up and left (or perhaps just figured their priorities of which construction was not one). 100 Years of Solitude anyone? Yet it is interesting because in all of these buildings we can see the process of Egyptian construction. On the first floor is the complete product, and gradually as the stories ascend they become less and less complete. The concrete finish gives way to a brick skeleton, and then at the peak are iron rods shooting into the sky suggesting that we are supposed to imagine that the rest of the building’s form would follow suit. Cairo, I think, is truly the anthill of the world. It seems to be a mound of infrastructure in a sandy patch of the map, sprouted up from the mysterious, life-breathing chasm that runs through it – the Nile. The metropolis: home to millions, quiet from a distance, and roaring with activity on this inside. Beyond the mound is nothing, but it tapers off a little in all directions until it stops at some point before the epicenter where life must be unbearable.
Anyhow, we soon darted off in this bus towards the Fayyum and I was soon asleep or not, I can’t exactly remember. I don’t think it would have mattered anyway. There is something about the desert that is very meditative. As in falling asleep, we first begin by allowing our minds to drift rapidly from topic to topic until everything is exhausted and thoughts slowly settle into themselves. Existence either quits or is extinguished and the idle fantasies of the mind either sprout up or not as in daydreams paradoxically inspired by vast planes of jejune wasteland. Anyway, at some point we are aroused from slumber and perhaps this is another dream? Hallucination? A dream, is something like the oasis of the mind, and is sometimes confused with reality: a colorful spot with wells from the imagination or sunken water tables that have somehow miraculously given life in these barren spots. With the Fayyum, waking up from this was something more like long stretch of lazily waking up and falling asleep again as on a Sunday morning. I had something of a “Charleton Heston wandering in the desert” expectation for my mental representation of “oasis” which would suddenly hit me (a bucket of water cruelly wakes one up in the morning from the trance of sleep) rather than a gradual Sunday morning laziness. But the gradual entry into to Fayyum was delightful. We passed through pastures of green first, dotted with homes in the distance, fig or date palms, and then slowly through the hamlet and into the bustling little town: medinat al-Fayyum.
We stepped off the bus and there was a simple process of thought that I experience that occurred in this order: 1.) This town is strangely large, how could this be an oasis? 2.) Now that I’m in the Fayyum, what do I do? The Fayyum’s center looked as if it could have been a couple city blocks taken from a quieter, more modest area of Cairo or Alex and dropped into the desert. Again in conflict with the image of date palms, tents, and a small watering hole that I had romantically envisioned. So, we had no idea what we would do in the Fayyum. Our knowledge pooled together probably consisted of little more than this: “the Fayyum is a small dot on the map about 100 miles SSW of Cairo. I have seen its name in print and therefore it is a destination to be beheld.” So, after talking with a couple taxi drivers, we decided it would be best to head to the closest café and sit and discuss our plans for the day over some fresh juice and enlist the help of a local waiter or two to assist us with our adventure.
After about an hour most of these goals had been accomplished as we sat in the second story of a quiet café with the remains of a couple rounds of mango juice in front of us. We decided that having a driver for the day would be the best way to see the area and he could take us to wherever he thought was worthwhile. Soon after some antsy waiting on my part (why do things in Egypt take so long?!?) our chariot had arrived and we climbed in and went to see what there was to see.
We stopped, oddly enough, at an uninspiring water wheel as our first destination. As intrepid journeyers we took the opportunity to stretch our legs, check out the novelty, and take a few pictures to document our day in the Fayyum. As Daniel, Christine, and I walked around this wheel and ignored the persistent merchants (they don’t see many foreign travelers in the summer) it seemed that Gamel had struck up a conversation with the tourist police who were hanging out by the wheel. And this along with the fact that there were merchants poised to sell us their cheap goods, confirmed the fact that this was actually a typical tourist hot-spot. The Fayyum seemed promising as it offered us this brilliant attraction: a simple wheel being turned by water. A point of pride indeed though for the people of Fayyum for it is the spot, I suppose, where all of the water that supplies them with life originates from. Anyhow, we wandered over to the tourist police and Gamel to see what was up. We took some (funny) pictures with them (they have very impressive “TOURIST POLICE” sleeve badgery) and asked what the deal was. Apparently when Westerners (especially of white, American or British variety) visit the area they are supposed to notify the police in order to get an armed escort for the day.
It seems, from what I gather, that years ago (in the 1990s) there was a series of deadly terrorist attacks on tourists in Egypt. Some of them originated from the Fayyum? After this there was some severe fallout: the tourism industry collapsed, international incident, etc. Now they are much more careful and ”police escort” seems to be one of the necessary precautions for visiting this charming oasis in the desert. Well, we were assured that it wouldn’t be a big problem if we simply told anyone who asked that we were Canadians! Alas! I can add “alternative identity source” to my list of useful aspects of Canada… Just kidding. But seriously.
Well we traveled to various places around the Fayyum: several more water wheels, a strange place called Seline where the police gave us a real fit about entering (oddly, there was absolutely nothing there to see really…), Lake Qarun, and pleasant drives through the countryside. It was simply nice to be out of the city for a day. It was nice to have very little to see. A lake, some fields, a little town. We ate the best Egyptian food that I’ve had yet in town – uncorrupted perhaps by however they mangle the same dishes in Cairo and Alex. All in all a nice, photogenic, relaxing experience. Lots of pictures of the dusty palette of color around the lake where the fishing boats seem to be resting on a mirror in the hot sun, the edge of the lake and far away desert melting into the sky…
Is this too poetic? Well we returned and spent the rest of the weekend in Cairo, watching some movies, hanging out, eating koshary, etc. We returned to Alex. on Saturday night and I spent the rest of my time before class the next day planning for the week an just milling around. Everything was more or less routine. Classes have been pushing through. With the kids we did pirates, magicians, and Greek mythology (as I already mentioned). We had some nice photo sessions and I think everyone was a little bit sad that the session was so brief (myself included). In my adult classes we’ve gotten into doing presentations every day and they always have interesting topics ranging from embryology (really…) to traveling abroad, Egyptian culture, personalities before and after work, the environment, a Tale of Two Cities (he botched this one on two occasions, but we’re waiting for the third), good manners, fuel cells, how to manipulate people… They’re very creative, but some are extremely shy. In fact, several have come to me now, curious to know how badly it will affect their grade if they don’t present at all. I’m sure they’ll all do fine though. Its very unusual for those who aren’t well into the business world to have to give these presentations. The Egyptian method of schooling is very much a “sit down and memorize” approach from what I gather. We’ll see.
I apologize for being so verbose this evening, but as soon as I finish writing this I must get back to work. I hope all who read this are well!
Jake
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
[by Christine]
Tonight Jake and I ate at McDonalds, again. I am not really sure how many McDonalds trips that makes for us now, but the truth is we have both had quite a nasty bug the last day or so and so we needed somewhere that we could trust the food. It is a sad thought when McDonalds is the healthiest thing for you to eat.
Tomorrow is my last day of children's classes, and I am so thankful. Really, I thought I would love it by the end but now the whole lot of them is making me mad. However, I did have some really good lessons with them -- the loved reading about George Washington and singing along to Yankee Doodle on the Fourth of July. They also really dug the lesson on superheros where I taught them 'stretch,' 'elastic,' 'invisible,' 'villain,' and finished the class making paper masks. Less than 12 hours to my last class with them and I haven't quite figured out what our last lesson will be about.
As much as I will not regret no longer having children's classes, I have to say that I will miss my adults. While a few of my male students have asked me to teach them in the next level the real compliment was when a group of girls came up to me after class. With the boys you don't know if it is a compliment to your teaching or just a marriage proposal. Four of my female students (who are all about my age) came up to me after class last week and asked if I would teach both a level ten and a conversation class that they would take.
I am really proud of the girls in my adult class. The second day of the course one of my students told me that she was worried about her participation grade. She was sorry but she would not be participating very much because there are so many men in the class. Today she raised her hand three times - once to read in front of everyone. In the beginning I was having to get creative trying to devise ways to get them speaking English, but now they are competing for talking time in class. It gets me really excited to know they are out of their shell, even if just a little bit. It is shocking how much of a feminist I have become in Egypt.
While I told the girls I would not be teaching next session, I mentioned that if I come back to Alexandria I will need friends -- an idea they were all pretty excited about. The truth is, I am not sure if I want to come back to Alex or not. Even though we have been here almost a month I feel like I have hardly spent any time in the city. Sunday - Thursday we spend with pretty intensive teaching and then on Thursday night we are off on a train Cairo-bound as soon as our classes end.
Alright, I have got to start figuring out what to teach tomorrow -- nothing is worse then being unprepared, but add that to exhaustion and I can be promised a rough day.
In other news, I do want to point out that Jake got hit on today. Actually, it was more like accosted, but as I am harassed constantly it was nice to see him get a little attention from two older (much older) Egyptian women.
Tomorrow is my last day of children's classes, and I am so thankful. Really, I thought I would love it by the end but now the whole lot of them is making me mad. However, I did have some really good lessons with them -- the loved reading about George Washington and singing along to Yankee Doodle on the Fourth of July. They also really dug the lesson on superheros where I taught them 'stretch,' 'elastic,' 'invisible,' 'villain,' and finished the class making paper masks. Less than 12 hours to my last class with them and I haven't quite figured out what our last lesson will be about.
As much as I will not regret no longer having children's classes, I have to say that I will miss my adults. While a few of my male students have asked me to teach them in the next level the real compliment was when a group of girls came up to me after class. With the boys you don't know if it is a compliment to your teaching or just a marriage proposal. Four of my female students (who are all about my age) came up to me after class last week and asked if I would teach both a level ten and a conversation class that they would take.
I am really proud of the girls in my adult class. The second day of the course one of my students told me that she was worried about her participation grade. She was sorry but she would not be participating very much because there are so many men in the class. Today she raised her hand three times - once to read in front of everyone. In the beginning I was having to get creative trying to devise ways to get them speaking English, but now they are competing for talking time in class. It gets me really excited to know they are out of their shell, even if just a little bit. It is shocking how much of a feminist I have become in Egypt.
While I told the girls I would not be teaching next session, I mentioned that if I come back to Alexandria I will need friends -- an idea they were all pretty excited about. The truth is, I am not sure if I want to come back to Alex or not. Even though we have been here almost a month I feel like I have hardly spent any time in the city. Sunday - Thursday we spend with pretty intensive teaching and then on Thursday night we are off on a train Cairo-bound as soon as our classes end.
Alright, I have got to start figuring out what to teach tomorrow -- nothing is worse then being unprepared, but add that to exhaustion and I can be promised a rough day.
In other news, I do want to point out that Jake got hit on today. Actually, it was more like accosted, but as I am harassed constantly it was nice to see him get a little attention from two older (much older) Egyptian women.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Again!
Hey everyone
How are you all? Just thought I'd share some news from Alexandria as usual for whoever might be interested. Things have been pretty routine here lately, although there has been some excitement. I'm typically bogged down with work all throughout the week, but there is some time here and there to relax and collect my thoughts (now for instance). I've been waking up everyday this week before 7:00AM to plan and make copies for my 10:00AM class... I've been the first one (besides the security guards) at the villa everyday, so I get the honor of them unlocking the doors for me. Usually I wake up, drink some tea, have some peanutbutter on pita bread to go along with that while I check my e-mail and read the news, then have a shower and head over to work. Boring?
So. Classes are cruising along and we've managed to work it out so far to plan excursions for each weekend. As I mentioned the first was for everyone to come here, and then last weekend we all went down south (and up north for the Minya team) for some Cairo fun. I'm pretty glad that I'm living in Alex after spending just a couple days there. I think its been ranked as the loudest city on earth, its a bit hotter, and there's something about it all that just makes it exhausting to even be there. But, we managed to find some havens of relaxation throughout the weekend.
Christine and I traveled to the city last Thursday right after teaching and got there late at night. The next day, on no sleep, we followed through on the plans we had made with the rest of the group to the beach on the Red Sea. It was a couple hours drive from Cairo through the desert. Although one pictures Egypt as being mostly wasteland outside of the cities, up and down the Nile its mostly crop fields and small, dusty towns. So before last weekend I actually hadn't gone beyond the boundaries of the Nile's fertile land into the vast stretches of desert. We zoomed down the highway in a small privately rented bus with a few other Americans who have internships at the Arab League and I got to see the strange lifeless mountain/hills made of stone and piles of dust. It looks very much more like a lunar landscape than the uniform planes of rhythmic dunes that are associated with the Sahara. And there was nothing but occasional oil refineries(?) or factories along the highway, a man or two walking along the road by himself or with a donkey, and other vehicles zipping past down the sweltering belt of black pavement for miles and miles until we reached the Red Sea: Ayn Sukhnah.
It was just a random settlement with its largest attraction appearing to be the beach and clear Red Sea water and reef. We parked, and headed to the beach across the road. The one thing about Egyptian beaches is that you are forced to pay to use most of them (although today I went to Gleem beach - about a 20 minute walk from our house down the corniche - for free). So we rented a brittle, poorly constructed cabana for the day made of worn cloth and a small metal frame with a few cushions and a mat on the dirt floor. What was most interesting about the day there was this non-stop party that was going on in the space directly in front of our cabana (maybe 50 feet away). There was a DJ playing some popular Arabic music extremely loud, and it was the men who were dancing and not the women. They had some interesting moves, but it was a little too much for the senses to handle at times. I appreciated the enthusiasm though... I should also note that this wasn't a very western beach like the one at Montazah. Women can't even lie on the ground let alone wear western bathing suits, so god forbid one try to get a tan.
This was all on the 4th of July! We returned home in the early evening and discussed our options for the evening. There was a rumor from what I interpreted to be a dubious source that a 4th of July celebration for Americans was taking place near the edge of the city, hosted by some sort of official group. It was at a "British School" all the way out in Maadi. With no real idea of where you're going and with a severe language barrier with taxi drivers, the prospects seemed outweighed by the risk of getting stranded near the desert with an angry cab driver demanding 100 pounds for getting you lost. But, with an American spirit of adventure (and I forgot to mention a promise of free food, and beer for some, at this party) we abandoned our better judgment and decided to go for, not knowing what to expect.
We arrived at this place after several wrong turns and a fair 25 pounds later, and to my delight the aroma of hamburger and hotdogs welcomed us to this American oasis of festivity in the middle of nowhere-Cairo. At this large and impressive school we flashed our passports and as we entered we were greeted by the largest concentration of English speaking yanks that we had seen in months. It was very nice - free food left and right, raffle tickets upon entry, live music - everything except fireworks. After a few hours we even ended the evening with a nice rendition of God Bless the USA (I'm Proud to be an American) by Lee Greenwood. I think that Steve, our British companion, was only one notch short of "flabbergasted."
The next day (Sunday) was much more relaxed and included some koshary, planning for future weekends, and a walk through Khana Khelali (one of the largest outdoor markets ever...a bit of a tourist trap as well, but quite an experience). I headed back to Alex. that night on the 7:00PM train and after stopping in just a few random pastures for no apparent reason, made it home by 10:30 - record time.
Since then the days have been filled mostly with planning and teaching, as I've said. We went to the movies on impulse on Monday to see the new Incredible Hulk movie with Edward Norton (I recommend it, by the way). Yesterday was the grueling day of 9 hours of teaching, and today I had a successful kiddo class in the morning and then a little excursion down to Gleem beach as I mentioned. This morning I spent 4 hours with my guys, getting them to learn about Shakespeare and then having them turn summaries of Hamlet, Macbeth, and Romeo and Juliet into 10 minute plays. For the most part they turned out well, all things considered, and I managed to capture some priceless moments of this spectacle on video. The Canon powershot(?) that I got before coming here was a fantastic investment... The sword fights with rolled up posterboards was particularly amusing and I give the morning a "Success!" stamp. Anyone have ideas for themes for next week? So far I've done Shakespeare, music, movies, comics, savants, and ghost stories. Each day comes with a theme, needless to say. The adult classes aren't quite as creative, but we still manage to have some fun. We talk about current events a lot to practice conversational skills - the other day it was global food prices, and the day before it was the election: Obama vs McCain (I typically find them a nice article to read from CNN and Google and just adapt it a little to their skill level). We also played would you rather to practice some new grammar. I think my favorites were: "Would you rather die by poison or stabbing?" "Would you rather marry a woman who is smart but ugly or pretty and dumb?" and "Would you rather be single or married." The reason the last one was funny was because of the response: everyone except one, I think, chose single, and a lot of them are middle-aged and married... Those are the most salient examples.
That's pretty much all I can think of for now. The beach was a nice escape today. I walked over there by myself. I've found a good trick when I get there - everyone is always excited to greet me for reasons that you can imagine and I usually end up having a few conversations before I can make it to the water. Well, now I just ask a few guys to watch my things while I go for a swim so that they don't mysteriously walk off on their own... And in the water I met a few guys who I ended up chatting with. Then they insisted on taking some pictures with me and we hung out on the street off the corniche where their neighborhood is. The unemployment rate in Egypt is quite bad, so I wouldn't be surprised to find out that they didn't have jobs. Anyway, we talked about various things, they brought me an orange soda, and we say in plastic chairs on the side of the road while I was introduced to all the local characters. My new friend Amra told me that he "loves me" and that I'm "beautiful." I explained that unlike in Arabic where the word Aheb means both like and love, in English we typically just say "like." And for men we usually use the word "handsome"... They've got to work on their English and thats probably part of the reason I was of such interest to them. Anyway, I came home a bit later than planned, but it was a fun afternoon and a good chance to practice my fledgling skills in Emmayyah (Egyptian). I also forgot to mention that we found a great bread guy today! Since this weekend we've been jealous of our friends in Cairo who had this great place to get fresh pastries and everything, but today we followed the directions of our co-worker Jane to find this place with all these excellent new snack foods (only a few blocks from home). Excitement. I also tried this new meat pocket thing which may add to my rather short, but scrumptious list of food options.
All for now. Hope all is well! As usual I will not be reading this over before sending...
Jake
How are you all? Just thought I'd share some news from Alexandria as usual for whoever might be interested. Things have been pretty routine here lately, although there has been some excitement. I'm typically bogged down with work all throughout the week, but there is some time here and there to relax and collect my thoughts (now for instance). I've been waking up everyday this week before 7:00AM to plan and make copies for my 10:00AM class... I've been the first one (besides the security guards) at the villa everyday, so I get the honor of them unlocking the doors for me. Usually I wake up, drink some tea, have some peanutbutter on pita bread to go along with that while I check my e-mail and read the news, then have a shower and head over to work. Boring?
So. Classes are cruising along and we've managed to work it out so far to plan excursions for each weekend. As I mentioned the first was for everyone to come here, and then last weekend we all went down south (and up north for the Minya team) for some Cairo fun. I'm pretty glad that I'm living in Alex after spending just a couple days there. I think its been ranked as the loudest city on earth, its a bit hotter, and there's something about it all that just makes it exhausting to even be there. But, we managed to find some havens of relaxation throughout the weekend.
Christine and I traveled to the city last Thursday right after teaching and got there late at night. The next day, on no sleep, we followed through on the plans we had made with the rest of the group to the beach on the Red Sea. It was a couple hours drive from Cairo through the desert. Although one pictures Egypt as being mostly wasteland outside of the cities, up and down the Nile its mostly crop fields and small, dusty towns. So before last weekend I actually hadn't gone beyond the boundaries of the Nile's fertile land into the vast stretches of desert. We zoomed down the highway in a small privately rented bus with a few other Americans who have internships at the Arab League and I got to see the strange lifeless mountain/hills made of stone and piles of dust. It looks very much more like a lunar landscape than the uniform planes of rhythmic dunes that are associated with the Sahara. And there was nothing but occasional oil refineries(?) or factories along the highway, a man or two walking along the road by himself or with a donkey, and other vehicles zipping past down the sweltering belt of black pavement for miles and miles until we reached the Red Sea: Ayn Sukhnah.
It was just a random settlement with its largest attraction appearing to be the beach and clear Red Sea water and reef. We parked, and headed to the beach across the road. The one thing about Egyptian beaches is that you are forced to pay to use most of them (although today I went to Gleem beach - about a 20 minute walk from our house down the corniche - for free). So we rented a brittle, poorly constructed cabana for the day made of worn cloth and a small metal frame with a few cushions and a mat on the dirt floor. What was most interesting about the day there was this non-stop party that was going on in the space directly in front of our cabana (maybe 50 feet away). There was a DJ playing some popular Arabic music extremely loud, and it was the men who were dancing and not the women. They had some interesting moves, but it was a little too much for the senses to handle at times. I appreciated the enthusiasm though... I should also note that this wasn't a very western beach like the one at Montazah. Women can't even lie on the ground let alone wear western bathing suits, so god forbid one try to get a tan.
This was all on the 4th of July! We returned home in the early evening and discussed our options for the evening. There was a rumor from what I interpreted to be a dubious source that a 4th of July celebration for Americans was taking place near the edge of the city, hosted by some sort of official group. It was at a "British School" all the way out in Maadi. With no real idea of where you're going and with a severe language barrier with taxi drivers, the prospects seemed outweighed by the risk of getting stranded near the desert with an angry cab driver demanding 100 pounds for getting you lost. But, with an American spirit of adventure (and I forgot to mention a promise of free food, and beer for some, at this party) we abandoned our better judgment and decided to go for, not knowing what to expect.
We arrived at this place after several wrong turns and a fair 25 pounds later, and to my delight the aroma of hamburger and hotdogs welcomed us to this American oasis of festivity in the middle of nowhere-Cairo. At this large and impressive school we flashed our passports and as we entered we were greeted by the largest concentration of English speaking yanks that we had seen in months. It was very nice - free food left and right, raffle tickets upon entry, live music - everything except fireworks. After a few hours we even ended the evening with a nice rendition of God Bless the USA (I'm Proud to be an American) by Lee Greenwood. I think that Steve, our British companion, was only one notch short of "flabbergasted."
The next day (Sunday) was much more relaxed and included some koshary, planning for future weekends, and a walk through Khana Khelali (one of the largest outdoor markets ever...a bit of a tourist trap as well, but quite an experience). I headed back to Alex. that night on the 7:00PM train and after stopping in just a few random pastures for no apparent reason, made it home by 10:30 - record time.
Since then the days have been filled mostly with planning and teaching, as I've said. We went to the movies on impulse on Monday to see the new Incredible Hulk movie with Edward Norton (I recommend it, by the way). Yesterday was the grueling day of 9 hours of teaching, and today I had a successful kiddo class in the morning and then a little excursion down to Gleem beach as I mentioned. This morning I spent 4 hours with my guys, getting them to learn about Shakespeare and then having them turn summaries of Hamlet, Macbeth, and Romeo and Juliet into 10 minute plays. For the most part they turned out well, all things considered, and I managed to capture some priceless moments of this spectacle on video. The Canon powershot(?) that I got before coming here was a fantastic investment... The sword fights with rolled up posterboards was particularly amusing and I give the morning a "Success!" stamp. Anyone have ideas for themes for next week? So far I've done Shakespeare, music, movies, comics, savants, and ghost stories. Each day comes with a theme, needless to say. The adult classes aren't quite as creative, but we still manage to have some fun. We talk about current events a lot to practice conversational skills - the other day it was global food prices, and the day before it was the election: Obama vs McCain (I typically find them a nice article to read from CNN and Google and just adapt it a little to their skill level). We also played would you rather to practice some new grammar. I think my favorites were: "Would you rather die by poison or stabbing?" "Would you rather marry a woman who is smart but ugly or pretty and dumb?" and "Would you rather be single or married." The reason the last one was funny was because of the response: everyone except one, I think, chose single, and a lot of them are middle-aged and married... Those are the most salient examples.
That's pretty much all I can think of for now. The beach was a nice escape today. I walked over there by myself. I've found a good trick when I get there - everyone is always excited to greet me for reasons that you can imagine and I usually end up having a few conversations before I can make it to the water. Well, now I just ask a few guys to watch my things while I go for a swim so that they don't mysteriously walk off on their own... And in the water I met a few guys who I ended up chatting with. Then they insisted on taking some pictures with me and we hung out on the street off the corniche where their neighborhood is. The unemployment rate in Egypt is quite bad, so I wouldn't be surprised to find out that they didn't have jobs. Anyway, we talked about various things, they brought me an orange soda, and we say in plastic chairs on the side of the road while I was introduced to all the local characters. My new friend Amra told me that he "loves me" and that I'm "beautiful." I explained that unlike in Arabic where the word Aheb means both like and love, in English we typically just say "like." And for men we usually use the word "handsome"... They've got to work on their English and thats probably part of the reason I was of such interest to them. Anyway, I came home a bit later than planned, but it was a fun afternoon and a good chance to practice my fledgling skills in Emmayyah (Egyptian). I also forgot to mention that we found a great bread guy today! Since this weekend we've been jealous of our friends in Cairo who had this great place to get fresh pastries and everything, but today we followed the directions of our co-worker Jane to find this place with all these excellent new snack foods (only a few blocks from home). Excitement. I also tried this new meat pocket thing which may add to my rather short, but scrumptious list of food options.
All for now. Hope all is well! As usual I will not be reading this over before sending...
Jake
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Greetings from the Library of Alexandria! A lot of this post is lifted from an e-mail that I just sent the fam. at home... And this is my first one on the blog since when I first introduced Julie to the cyberworld! (I feel a little guilty about this, but I think I'll try to be more vigilant about it from now on). This is actually my second time here and its really a magnificent place despite some of the most ridiculous policies in the universe. First, you can't bring books into this library. I was walking through with my tome of Shakespeare and they made me turn back and stick it with my bag. Second, you can't bring bags into the library - a little more understandable for security reasons and such, but still sort of ridiculous in my opinion. Finally, you have to pay five pounds to enter... I don't think you can check things out either... So what sort of library is this??? It goes against all of my library ethics so I think I might boycott. This is why education is such a problem in Egypt (or at least some of my students tell me)... the libraries are expensive.
So, over the weekend the crews from Cairo and Minya came to visit. This weekend it will be the Cairo team's turn to host us. We took them around the city a little and shied away from the tourist attractions to give them the authentic tour of Alexandria. That included a day at Aida beach, some of our favorite local quisine (shwarma, pizza, and falafel) , as well as some time in the ancient parts of the city. So we went to the catacombs which are buried 90 feet beneath the ground and have a mixture of Roman, Greek, and Egyptian flavor. They were created at times when all of these cultures were mixing around (as I understand). We also went to Pompey's pillar (which actually has nothing to do with Pompey - again as I understand) where I refused to pay the entrance fee because I could see it from outside... You see, the government has created a giant wall around this block of the city where the ruins are and you have to pay to enter and enjoy their history. But it defeats the purpose when you can enjoy the pillar from the street. And its only a pillar anyway. Despite these things, I love Egypt.
So I skipped out on going close[!] to the pillar, but I was there. It was more fun to stand outside and wait for the others (4 of us opted against entering) and watch the guards. One of them just kept saluting us. I also took the oppurtunity to practice my Arabic and ask for directions to the cataccombs (we actually visited these second). I've been trying to practice a lot and the people really love it when you try. They're pretty eager to teach you and practice their own English. As I said, we're going to Cairo tomorrow night so yesterday I had to go to the train station to buy my tickets (Christine hadn't decided at the time that she was coming). We arrived and I realized that I had no idea when the trains ran and remembered that I had been warned that the train stations (especially the one in Cairo) aren't very non-Egyptian friendly. So, I started by asking the guard which window to go to if I wanted to get to Cairo and from there I made it to my window, ordered my tickets (times, destination, return) and had a chat with the ticket guys while I waited for them to print, all in Arabic. I was pretty impressed, and Christine was actually there to witness it - so someone can vouch for this miracle.
As I was saying we went to the catacombs. You essentially descend down 30 meters into the ground by way of a sort of staircase that spirals around and shaft in the ground that looks like an extra wide well. This, our friendly tour guide (he took it upon himself to do us this favor) told us, was to lower the bodies into the catacombs.
After our friends left on Saturday night, I was confronted with my teaching for the next week. Starting a kids class on Monday, as well as my usual adults classes that run through the week. They don't meet every day though, so we teach 27 hours in the week. It ends up being far more work than it sounds because of the preparation that is involved. Why else would I be in the Library of Alex. than to be lesson planning on a Wednesday? I'm in the home stretch now because I had my last kids class for the week today and tomorrow I have my last two adult classes. Then, right after the last adults class I'll head to the train station with Christine and we'll get on the night train (first class) to Cairo. We'll get there quite late at night to be greeted by Julie.
The kids classes have been going really great. Every day we choose a theme and spend four hours on it. So the first day I chose autism and savants, yesterday was ghosts, and today was movie reviews. Next week I'm planning on doing Shakespeare, music and something else. Any ideas (they're smart)? They're all about 15 years old and they've been studying English for eight years more or less, so they're intermediate-advanced.... mostly. A couple struggle to keep up. They really enjoy listening to music and reading the lyrics while filling in blanks - this is one thing we did today with Jack Johnson. The classes are really going well and they're great for me because I just wouldn't be able to manage the little ones... I'd have health problems at least after being through with them. And its great because they've got personalities and they're interesting people. So I look forward to the mornings.
I'm going to go soon because I've got to plan my adult classes for tomorrow. I'm giving them their first quiz on the first units of the book, so cross your fingers. I think it will be easy for most of them... the grammar is pretty simple and I'm a splendid, modest teacher so they should be well-prepared. I look forward to hearing from everyone!
Jake
(pardon any errors in here, because I'm not checking...)
So, over the weekend the crews from Cairo and Minya came to visit. This weekend it will be the Cairo team's turn to host us. We took them around the city a little and shied away from the tourist attractions to give them the authentic tour of Alexandria. That included a day at Aida beach, some of our favorite local quisine (shwarma, pizza, and falafel) , as well as some time in the ancient parts of the city. So we went to the catacombs which are buried 90 feet beneath the ground and have a mixture of Roman, Greek, and Egyptian flavor. They were created at times when all of these cultures were mixing around (as I understand). We also went to Pompey's pillar (which actually has nothing to do with Pompey - again as I understand) where I refused to pay the entrance fee because I could see it from outside... You see, the government has created a giant wall around this block of the city where the ruins are and you have to pay to enter and enjoy their history. But it defeats the purpose when you can enjoy the pillar from the street. And its only a pillar anyway. Despite these things, I love Egypt.
So I skipped out on going close[!] to the pillar, but I was there. It was more fun to stand outside and wait for the others (4 of us opted against entering) and watch the guards. One of them just kept saluting us. I also took the oppurtunity to practice my Arabic and ask for directions to the cataccombs (we actually visited these second). I've been trying to practice a lot and the people really love it when you try. They're pretty eager to teach you and practice their own English. As I said, we're going to Cairo tomorrow night so yesterday I had to go to the train station to buy my tickets (Christine hadn't decided at the time that she was coming). We arrived and I realized that I had no idea when the trains ran and remembered that I had been warned that the train stations (especially the one in Cairo) aren't very non-Egyptian friendly. So, I started by asking the guard which window to go to if I wanted to get to Cairo and from there I made it to my window, ordered my tickets (times, destination, return) and had a chat with the ticket guys while I waited for them to print, all in Arabic. I was pretty impressed, and Christine was actually there to witness it - so someone can vouch for this miracle.
As I was saying we went to the catacombs. You essentially descend down 30 meters into the ground by way of a sort of staircase that spirals around and shaft in the ground that looks like an extra wide well. This, our friendly tour guide (he took it upon himself to do us this favor) told us, was to lower the bodies into the catacombs.
After our friends left on Saturday night, I was confronted with my teaching for the next week. Starting a kids class on Monday, as well as my usual adults classes that run through the week. They don't meet every day though, so we teach 27 hours in the week. It ends up being far more work than it sounds because of the preparation that is involved. Why else would I be in the Library of Alex. than to be lesson planning on a Wednesday? I'm in the home stretch now because I had my last kids class for the week today and tomorrow I have my last two adult classes. Then, right after the last adults class I'll head to the train station with Christine and we'll get on the night train (first class) to Cairo. We'll get there quite late at night to be greeted by Julie.
The kids classes have been going really great. Every day we choose a theme and spend four hours on it. So the first day I chose autism and savants, yesterday was ghosts, and today was movie reviews. Next week I'm planning on doing Shakespeare, music and something else. Any ideas (they're smart)? They're all about 15 years old and they've been studying English for eight years more or less, so they're intermediate-advanced.... mostly. A couple struggle to keep up. They really enjoy listening to music and reading the lyrics while filling in blanks - this is one thing we did today with Jack Johnson. The classes are really going well and they're great for me because I just wouldn't be able to manage the little ones... I'd have health problems at least after being through with them. And its great because they've got personalities and they're interesting people. So I look forward to the mornings.
I'm going to go soon because I've got to plan my adult classes for tomorrow. I'm giving them their first quiz on the first units of the book, so cross your fingers. I think it will be easy for most of them... the grammar is pretty simple and I'm a splendid, modest teacher so they should be well-prepared. I look forward to hearing from everyone!
Jake
(pardon any errors in here, because I'm not checking...)
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