How much can ONE person really do?

**This post was originally written as a personal reflection; a way for me to deal with a lot of similar yet conflicting thoughts I've had in the last months and weeks (and years, really). It doesn't explain much about what we've been doing lately, so I'm sorry if it's a bit out of context. Let me know what you think!**

We all talk about changing the world. You get a cause and you follow some philosophies and advice from an expert who has data and crunched numbers to back up her argument, and you make a vow to give up something(s) or add an extra routine to your life.

But there’s always the question of: how much am I, as one person amongst 400 million Americans or 7 billion people, really making change?

This is a dangerous question. It invites the philosophy of “well, if I don’t make that much of a positive impact by giving up all these things, how much harm do I actually do by not changing those parts of my life?” Enter social apathy.

Is it vanity?

Some inherent need to be someone who did something? Do we all just want to be a household name? Well, if that’s the case, you can apparently achieve that goal by releasing a sex tape or shooting an entire school-full. Those acts will get you to your goal in the short-term in such a way that failure is far less likely than if you aspired to be the next Gandhi (I am in India, after all), who had more setbacks (and very public ones, at that) in his daily life than more people would be “comfortable” with in several lifetimes.

Then there’s the question: where do my responsibilities ultimately lie?

As a young adult who still has yet to enter the “real world” in full force, what am I actually responsible for? Primarily, in my view, I am responsible for my future. That’s a big word, but it contains education, safety, social connections, and general well-being. That is a pretty short and (mostly) manageable list, leaving room and energy for non-personal responsibilities like “ending world hunger” or “the environment” to be added to the list.

Now, when I consider myself 15-20 years down the line, I’m generally the same person (personality, aspirations, values, etc.) except that list of responsibilities will be overwhelmingly longer. Suddenly, my responsibilities can’t just be contained in a box labeled: “my future”. There will be several boxes added to the chart, with labels like, “my family’s future”, “my financials”, and “my employees’/ clients’ (families’) futures”. Of course, just like the original “my future” box, each of these boxes contains another list of responsibilities within. With all these added responsibilities, it becomes harder to include all those non-personal responsibilities in.

So, I wonder, is it the length of the “responsibilities” list that determines one’s answer to the main question: “what can I, as one person, really do?”

If my 35-year-old self were limited in the amount of work she can do for the non-personal causes, then, wouldn’t the answer lie in limiting the number of personal responsibilities to make room for others? If my responsibility to my clients and/or employees lies in keeping my job or progressing in my career, and that motive stems from my financial responsibilities that bolster the future of my family, then wouldn’t the root of the problem be my family? In other words, would I have a greater capacity for considering my responsibilities to others if I chose to not have a family?

This idea makes me (and my parents too, I imagine) very sad.

Having a family, although it would take away some of my capacity to personally make the changes I want to see in the world, would also give me the opportunity to instill the desire to make and see those changes in another generation, who would, in turn, hopefully pass that desire on again. I like this idea, EXCEPT: what if no one ever breaks that cycle to actually take the leap(s) to make those changes happen? Also, if I don’t make the effort now to see that the majority of my peers also value these potential changes, they won’t pass them on to their children, who won’t see the need to implement the changes that future visionaries will attempt, and we’re stuck again.

Well, if we’re gonna be stuck anyway, what’s the point in me suffering now or making my hypothetical children suffer? There’s also always the notion that, if I focus on the now and my own personal responsibilities for a while, I’ll eventually accrue enough capital—financial and social means—to potentially implement those other-oriented responsibilities I hold so dear today. The danger in this, of course, is that, although the end goal is a solution, chances are, I’ll be part of the problem for a while as a means to that end goal.

Let’s say, for example, I decided on “the environment” as my end goal responsibility. I could change my entire lifestyle to be more environmentally friendly and work for an environmental NGO to slowly model and implement change. Or, I could make more money at a different job and save a lot of money by living on Ramen, all to eventually save enough money to buy up the Amazon and save it from deforestation or water pollution, but at the same time, all the plastic and Styrofoam packaging from my Ramen noodles would be floating in Garbage Island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Ramen here, of course, is a stand-in for all my materialistic pleasures.

Then there’s another option that’s been laid out in front of us recently: I could devote myself to a life of meditation and detachment from worldly pleasures and pains to achieve liberation; moksha, or nirvana. While these ideas make sense to me cognitively, I can’t help but think of this philosophy as a cop-out. Sure, the task or responsibility of saving humanity from its own evils in one lifetime is futile. I mean, from the Christian perspective, even God couldn’t achieve this in the last 2000 years because,  people keep messing the job up. But, just because the job can’t be completely finished doesn’t mean we just give up and wait for our next karmic incarnation to take care of it or for the time cycles to give way to a better epoch.

Wouldn’t I, at the end of my life, feel worse about not having done (almost) everything in my ability to improve the world I was brought into than not having attained liberation? The way I see it, if I perform my duty or dharma to improve the world in this lifetime, then, when I die, even if I am reborn in the Hindu/Jain cycle, I’ll have accumulated good karma (or so I’d like to think), so if my soul decides to attempt moksha, it’ll be in a better position to do so at that point.

Honestly, for coming from a collectivist culture, this whole liberation thing seems pretty selfish to me, but I guess you could say the reverse for modern/Western Christianity. Is that the point then, to reverse the effects or tendencies of one’s culture? If I am inclined to think of myself as part of a group, and act and think according to the needs and desires of that group, should I use spirituality to focus on the independent self? Inversely, are the group-focused missions of Western(ized) religions intended to counteract our cultures’ individualist propensities? What happens when an individualist-cultured person practices an “individualist” religion/spirituality, and vice-versa?

Clearly, some (few) people have been able to use the detachment ideals of these “Eastern” religions for positive social change. In a way, this makes sense, going back to my original responsibilities predicament: if I am able to detach myself from that huge long list of responsibilities that my 40-year-old self is bound to, might I then have the time and responsibilities-capacity to worry about the rest of the world again?

Well, from my current perspective, I know I couldn’t live with a self that didn’t aspire to improve the world—however that might happen, so I guess I start with that affirmation and go from there.

There are so many questions here that have no answers. I am happy to explore all the possible explanations and ruminations which are provided to me through all the philosophies and religions of the world, but the only time I might know the answers to the “what can I do?” question is when I look back on my decisions from today with 20/20 hindsight-vision. Just know, future me, that I’m trying my damnedest, albeit blindly!

**Appropriately, as I finished this reflection, the song “You Might Die Trying” by Dave Matthews Band came on shuffle. I've never really listened to the song before, and the first verse is particularly relevant:

“To change the world / Starts with one step /

However small / the first step is hardest of all /

Once you get your gait / you’ll be walkin’ tall /

You said you’d never dare / ‘Cuz you might die tryin”

Thoughts on: Social Effects of Spiritualism in India

There are parts of India that are exactly what I expected and there are other parts that still surprise me. As a whole, I love India more and more every day, and this growing love is a result of the amazing beauty of the scenery, the hospitality and good-naturedness of the people, the peaceful manner in which people go about their everyday lives, the amazing food, and the spirituality emanating from almost everything here.

Especially after I had the opportunity to hear the Dalai Lama speak this summer, I anticipated India to be a very spiritual and religiously pluralistic place. It is true that India is extremely spiritual—Hinduism, we’ve been reminded time and time again, is a way of life, not a religion—and while that spirituality is oftentimes inspirational, I have also found it self-destructive. By “self-destructive” I do not mean that an individual’s spirituality leads to that one person’s destruction, but rather the nature of all of India’s spirituality. Her obsession with spirituality has, in many cases, contributed to social dissolution and disregard among Indians. So, in my use of the term “self-destructive”, India as a nation is the self to which I refer.

To explain what I mean, I’ll need to back up a little further.

When we’ve been told, “Hinduism is a way of life, not a religion”, it’s always accompanied by another statement: “Hinduism [the word] was created by the West to distinguish their own [Judeo-Christian] religious practices from those of the native Indians”. What these two statements mean in the day-to-day life of an Indian is this: nearly every native Indian is a hindu, regardless of religious belief (Indian Christians are often referred to as “church-going hindus”), because the word literally just means “Indian”; and Hinduism—as the religious or spiritual practices of native Indians—is practiced differently from person to person. This makes it a bit difficult to study Hinduism as one subject: the best one can do is explain the historical development and common rituals of Hindus today.

Fun Fact: Contrary to popular thought, Hinduism is actually, at its core, a monotheistic belief with an overall GOD or “oneness” called Brahma. The “little” gods (there are over 330,000) you’ve no doubt heard of (Krishna, Durga, etc) function similarly to Catholic saints: specific regions, villages, and professions have patron gods. Just like the saints and the Holy Trinity can seem polytheistic to people of other religions, many people have misunderstood Hinduism to be polytheistic. Qualification: there may be Hindus who do practice and believe in polytheism, but that is not the case among the majority, as I have come to understand it.

Aaand back to the main discussion of spirituality in India...

As I mentioned, I have found Indians’ omnipresent spirituality to be inspiring in many ways. I have relished in the peace—internal and external—I feel after a session of yogic asanas (what I’ve naively called “yoga” up until now), and I am consistently reminded through the kindness and positive attitudes of the Indians I meet that my spirituality should be a lifestyle, and not isolated to a few moments once or twice a week.  I don’t need to go to seminary or devote myself to a hermetic monastic life or regularly read a certain book to live a life in accordance with my spiritual and moral ideals. Although I’ve believed this for a long time, it’s been nice to get all this reassurance. For now, I am challenging myself to incorporate more moments of stillness into my everyday life.

Added bonus: according to our Yoga lecturer (who has her doctorate in the field), research shows that regularly including meditation-like practices into your life improves all areas of health: physical, mental, and spiritual. Look it up if you don’t believe me!

So, in a very important sense, the Indian spirituality is very beneficial. In other ways, I am disturbed by the ease with which it enables social degradation. Of course, one of the main topics we have breached in India is the caste system. At the beginning of our time in India, we were ensured by a professor and students at Rizvi Law College in Mumbai that the caste system is no longer relevant in modern India, with the occasional exception of marriages. However, the longer we spend in India, and the more time we spend in areas less “modern” than urban Mumbai, the more clear it becomes that the caste system is not only relevant, but still very strong throughout India.

As foreigners, it is difficult for us to perceive the small acts that make up this unique form of prejudice. In tea shops, one man is given a glass cup, while his companion of darker skin and more modest upbringing is provided with a plastic cup. To us, it looks as though the shop has just run out of glass cups, but the actual reason he’s been given a plastic cup is for his uncleanliness or untouchability to be more easily erased by simply throwing his cup away, rather than washing it.

Caste, we have been assured, is not inherently nor originally Hindu, but has been incorporated into the religious hierarchy over several centuries. Originally, caste was simply a division of labor: priests and those concerned with religious matters; soldiers and those concerned with security; merchants and those concerned with cultural and economic trade; servants; and those delegated to the dirtier jobs of society (sanitation, etc). Over time, caste became immobile and unchangeable, and religious significance was incorporated into the whole hierarchy. While Hinduism did not create caste, it is maintained in Indian society through cultural Hinduism, which, as I explained before, permeates all of India, regardless of religious affirmation. Sadly, some Indian churches have become infamous for their use of caste. Not all churches, thankfully—in fact, it almost seems like the caste system is a pre-packaged sermon for many ministers: just plug in “untouchables” for “lepers”, etc. 

One of the ways caste is continued is through the Hindu concepts of karma and dharma. The aim of the Hindu life is to reach moksha or liberation from the cycle of rebirth, which all souls are victim to until this liberation is attained. Karma is the explanation for one’s current state—if you completed your dharma (karmic duty) well in your past life, you are rewarded with good status in this life. In this philosophy, to help an individual of untouchability or outcaste status is to interfere with their karma, so it is better to let them suffer. Many Indians today recognize the harmful social effects of this philosophy and are working to improve humanitarian efforts in India, but they have a long battle to fight against such a culturally entrenched concept.

***This has been a very abridged explanation of some of the current effects of caste, but I hope it at least clarifies a few things—and brings up many more questions***

Another implication of spiritualism in India is the question of religious pluralism and secularism. Hinduism is praised as a religion of tolerance. Because it is so undefined and dynamic, there is much room for personalization of Hindu faith or spiritualism. There is a lot we can learn from the tradition of tolerance in India, but with certain precautions.

Is the tolerance or expansion of Hinduism the same thing as religious plurality? I’ve learned that Indians often separate themselves in religious-based communities, meaning that, while Christians, Muslims, and Hindus may all live within the confines of a certain region, those groups are segregated in their own communities, which often serves to increase polarization. Is co-existing (with sporadic clashes) really pluralism?

India suffers from intolerant and violent acts from extremist groups, just like every other religious community. In recent years, there have been several cases of inter-religious violence and terrorism in India. While the motivations of these events cannot be generalized to the entire population, stereotypes do pop up, making the work of ecumenical and interfaith centers all that more critical. Check out the ECC—Ecumenical Christian Centre of Bangalore (where we’re staying) and the Quo Vadis Interfaith Dialogue Center of Tiruvannamalai.

Obviously, these “faults” in Indian society are easier to observe as a cultural outsider, but these observations and subsequent reflections on India have led me to consider the social implications of our Western Judeo-Christian-based world and my role in it. India is nothing if not thought-provoking.

I have few short internet connections, which is why this post is so long (and photo-less). What else would you like to hear about my time in India? My daily life here? Food? A few funny “cultural experience” stories? Political/economic issues in India? Indians’ perspectives on globalization? An Egypt-India comparison? A photo-post? Give me suggestions!

Things I'll miss about Egypt:

I know I've spent more time than I wanted to on this blog talking about the things that surprised me in a negative way once I got to Egypt, but I really want to emphasize that there are a lot of things that I'll miss when we leave tonight, like:

• Cheap, delicious food (I know I won't be without this in India, but I certainly will be without some of my Egyptian favorites, like Koshary).



Koshary!



Schwarma 

• cupcake shops and the prevalence of chocolate cake (part of a list of things by body WON'T miss about Egypt) 
• The Nile :) 

• Seeing ridiculous things on motor vehicles, like:



Young "Ultras" on the way to the game

• two forlorn cows chillin' on the back of a pickup truck in downtown Cairo
• two young-adult men singing together as they ride on a mo-ped/cycle in downtown Cairo
• men packed like sardines in a "bus" on the road from Alexandria (but I won't miss them all gawking at the girls on our bus)
• an entire family (dad, mom, 2 kids) packed onto a small motorcycle
• vehicles with ACTUAL horsepower - a donkey (or horse)-drawn cart being driven down a highway!



a famous muezzin at Mosque Sultan Hassan
chants a few lines of the Qur'an for us

• a "bus" packed to the roof with football "ultras" (soccer hooligans TO THE MAX) driving down the highway on the way to the Zamalek game
• The Call to Prayer, whatever part of day or night - a great time for contemplation, whatever you believe
• Seeing minarets EVERYWHERE!



How many minarets can you see?

• Having dependable internet here at the AUC
• Having wonderful and nice security guards here at the AUC who graciously put up with my broken pathetic "Arabic"
• The weather (last week as we were walking along the Nile one afternoon, I commented that it was a "nice fall day"... and then was reminded that it was 80 degrees fahrenheit)
• Hearing "You are welcome" and "welcome to Egypt" everywhere you go - from young and old. 
• Once you're up high enough, seeing minarets popping up everywhere. 



A Young Egyptian wishes us welcome in Tahrir Square

• Walking in the street (it's grown on me)

Forever a College Student

If I were still a REAL college student, I would be thinking about registering for classes right now. And although the idea of NOT having to stay up late cramming for a test or finishing up a literature review or closing down the library makes me really happy, I do still really like looking at the St. Olaf catalogue of classes I COULD be taking next semester if I hadn't already received my diploma. Here are a few that make me particularly jealous of my underclassmen peers:

Art 232: Figure Drawing - I took an intro drawing course last spring and found that I particularly enjoyed figure drawing and it would have been nice to try more of that

Art 238: Photography - It would be nice to come back from Global and get more formal training for my "photographer's eye"

Environmental Studies 222: Campus Ecology - I always heard this was a great class and really made you think about your "footprint" on a regular basis.

Environmental Studies 276: Environmental Politics - As a poli-sci major, I always wanted to fit in more of these policy-centered classes, and I've heard this particular course is a lot easier to grasp with a poli-sci background.

Film 101: Intro to Film Studies - because I always feel like a naïve movie-goer, it would be nice to have a better idea about what goes on behind the scenes - other than what I've learned from watching all the special features from the Lord of the Rings boxed set, that is. :)

History 199: America after 1865 - I never feel like I know enough about recent American history! This was a course that was always on my backup registration list every semester - so how did I end up never taking it?!

PoliSci 244: Race and Politics - this sounds SUPER interesting, and it's with a professor they just brought in to replace one of my favorites... very relevant.

PoliSci 285: International Law - how does this NOT sound interesting!?! This would probably be my top choice for registration... good thing there are two sections, because it'll definitely be a popular one!

Sociology/Anthropology 267: Medical Anthropology - As someone who's hoping to go into the international NGO world, questions on how people view health, health issues, and solutions are prominent in my mind, and I've always loved every Soc/Anth class I've taken.

Spanish 312: Minor Religions of Spain - taught by one of my favorite professors, I think this would be a fascinating class about a society that was dominated by Roman Catholicism for so long.

Theater 120: Public Speaking - pretty useful and self-explanatory. Do I need to give you a speech about it?

Women's Studies 121: Intro to WS - I'm not really sure if I would consider myself a feminist, so this would be a good opportunity to find out and to talk to people all over that spectrum about interesting issues in the Girl World!


That's a pretty full list! I guess it's a good thing I don't have to narrow them down. And who knows? Maybe I'll have enough time when I get back from Global to read up on all these topics myself! Yeah, right. Wishful thinking. 


What are some classes YOU wished you'd taken in college?

A Lesson in Arabic Numbers

As you all know, the Arabic language uses a different script and alphabet than the one you are reading right now. Although we received two “Survival Arabic” classes during our time here in Egypt, we were taught using transliterated words (Arabic words written phonetically in the Latin alphabet).

As a language-person myself, I was more than kinda bummed that we didn’t get any instruction on the Arabic alphabet, since I like to be able to at least read/pronounce things when I travel, even if I have absolutely no idea what they mean. Even now, 2 years since I took Russian 111, I get really excited when I see anything written in Cyrillic, because, despite (most of the time) not knowing what any of it actually means, I pride myself on being able to pronounce it, albeit poorly.

Rare Find: I can read and understand two out of three of these signs in Munich!

So, I’ve sadly resigned to not being able to read anything here in Egypt, unless it’s in English. I did, however, manage to teach myself the (Eastern) Arabic numerals (Link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eastern_Arabic_numerals ). Just as with our numerals, which are commonly and confusingly also called Arabic, there are 10 digits (0-9), but they are written differently that we are used to. Below, I list the numbers with their (Western) Arabic counterpart, their phonetic pronunciation in Arabic, and a few hints on how to remember what they look like.

٠ – 0 – SUF-er-ah

١ – 1 – WAH-heed – looks like a 1!

٢ – 2 – it-NAYN – tilt your head to the right

٣ – 3 – tah-LAY-tah – tilt your head to the right + an extra line

٤ – 4 – ar-BAH – no trick, just memorize it

٥ – 5 – HAHM-sah – just remember it’s not a 0

٦ – 6 – SIT-tah – it’s not a 7, and it’s not a ٢ (2)

٧ – 7 – sah-BAH – looks like a V, not lambda

٨ – 8 – tah-MEYN-yah – looks like Greek lambda, not a V

٩ – 9 – TISS-ah – looks like a 9!

Another nice thing about the Arabic numbers is that, while the Arabic language is read right-to-left, the numbers are read left-to-right, like English! This means that phone numbers read the “right” way.

We spend a lot of time on the bus here, considering all the monuments and cities we visit and the lack of (reliable) public transportation. When everyone plugs their headphones in, I play a game that I like to call “read the license plate”. Sounds fun, huh? It’s a good way to test my memorization of the Arabic numbers. Sometimes, it’s really fast and difficult (when we’re going fast), but the rest of the time (when we’re stuck in the inevitable traffic jams), I race myself for speed and accuracy. Thrilling, I know.

Ready to play? Pop Quiz time!

(Remember, just look at the left half of the plate for the numbers)

Go!

1.   

NOW FOR SOME EXTRA CREDIT!

7. 

How did you do? It’s fun, right?             Right?                         …maybe?

Tune in next time for: A Lesson in Egyptian Food

(Answers: 31950; 5641; 3452; 8374; 9437; 7654; 4843243; 012 2427589)

A Typical Day in Egypt...

... is hard to find, at least for our group. One day, we're sitting in lectures from overwhelmingly intelligent AUC professors or impossibly chaotic "Survival Arabic" classes, and the next day, we're knocking several monuments off our to-see lists. Then, who knows? Maybe we'll hop on a plane for a couple days of intense touring in Luxor or intense relaxation by the Red Sea (even relaxation is an intense experience on Global).

To give you a better idea, here are a couple highlights and snapshots of what we've done in the last 16 days, in addition to regular class:

Survived some typical traffic jams and walking across streets in Cairo
crosswalks DO NOT exist here--your life is on the line at every crossing

Discussed the pollution problem in Cairo with Professor Swanson of AUC
any undeveloped/unused square inch is free space for trash dumping

Navigated the great Khan al-Khalili market in Medieval Cairo
Some of us (me) are better at bartering than others (Adam).
Lessons: always watch your belongings, say 'no' even when you really want it,
and NEVER try it on if you haven't already agreed on a price

Did all the great and necessary touristy things at the Pyramids, with a St. Olaf twist
Jumping and 'walk like an egyptian' pictures, singing Um Ya Ya inside the pyramid

Befriended camels-- for 50 L.E. apiece plus baksheesh (tip)
Camels aren't native to Egypt: the Persians brought them
when they first invaded around 600 BC 

Stood in awe of all the beautiful ancient Egyptian art that still survives in so many of the temples and tombs we visited.
The colors for their paints come from the various different colored sediments between the limestone blocks they quarried for their monuments - everything but blue and green (which came from precious stones)

Imitated monuments with strength and poise
The Step Pyramid of Saqqara is the first real pyramid we know of - the "builder" originally only had the first level or 'pylon' built, before adding on more layers to guide his soul back after death. Later rulers improved on the idea.

Kicked ourselves for not knowing how to read/interpret hieroglyphics--guess we've just gotta trust the tour guide!
Anything written inside an oval (called a 'cartouche') is usually the name of a king or queen

Visited both the Valley of the Kings (saw 4 tombs: Rameses I, III, IV, and V/VI - they share a tomb) and Hapshepsut's Temple before 9am so as to avoid burning alive in the desert
The head egyptologist in charge of the Valley of the Kings published a book with lots of pictures of the tombs, so naturally, he banned camera usage in KV because why would you want to take your own amateur pictures when you can buy a book of professional ones for $50? If you had x-ray vision and could see through the temple behind me in this picture, you would see the Valley of the Kings.

Witnessed the Luxor Temple by night
My pharaoh-crush is Rameses II-- isn't he just a hunk?

Watched the sun come up over Luxor from a hot air balloon (just hours after our group's 1st encounter with karaoke)
There are few things more magical or inspirational than flying 3000ft above a city (and it's ancient monuments) and still being able to hear the wafting tones of the Call to Prayer

Snorkeled in the Red Sea
Didn't find any Moses-era Egyptians still walking around... with all that coral, it would have really hurt to walk across that sea-bed, even with sandals on!

Took a day off to lounge in the sun (and shade, for those of us sunburned from snorkeling) of Hurghada

Every day brings a new adventure, whether it's at a café here on Zamalek (in Cairo) or in a completely different city! We're off to Alexandria this weekend -- stay tuned for more fun times ahead!

Have you been to Egypt or another country in the region? How were your experiences different/similar to what I've described? Leave a comment below!

First Impressions: Misr (Egypt)

It’s strange to realize that I’ve only been in Egypt for a week and a half, and even stranger to think that I’ve only been gone 3 weeks. Not only have our days been packed to the fullest, but every day’s experiences are newer than the previous ones and it just doesn’t seem possible that I’ve crammed this much in to less than a month’s travels. I am going to be completely exhausted after 5 months of this!

When I flew with my group to Egypt, it was, in my mind, the real start to our adventures—classes began in earnest, we were finally able to unpack our suitcases, and most importantly, we were entering a culture and a country that was unfamiliar to (almost—1 exception) all of us.

When I’ve spoken to friends here on the trip, or people “back home”, I’ve tried to explain my mental adjustment here in Egypt. I really hoped that my reading project this summer would have prepared me more for the difference in culture I experienced within minutes of exiting the plane at the Cairo Airport, but the truth is, I was not prepared.

I can’t believe that, even as someone who has studied Egypt on several occasions from the social science perspective, during my mental preparations I either forgot or ignored the fact that Egypt is still considered a third world country. I feel dumb admitting this, but I guess my mental picture of Cairo—a city you hear about on the news all the time (even pre-Revolution)—was more of an Arabic-speaking NYC, or Madrid, or even Rome (you know, because of all the ruins?). Ha. Riiiight.

Not even close. Cairo is complete chaos. For you statistics-oriented people: the population density within city limits is officially 44,521 people per square mile (7 million people total). Within the larger metro area there are nearly 20 million people. Why is it so packed? Because Cairo, like all major cities in Egypt, is in the fertile Nile Valley, dwarfed by high desert on both sides. Many of those 18 million people have cars, and they go out in such numbers that there are almost always traffic jams, which means all those cars are almost always running. Oh, and that bit about being surrounded by high deserts means that all that air pollution stays there in the valley, making Cairo the third most-polluted city in the world, after Mexico City and Calcutta. Yay!

I really don’t mind the crazy traffic (seriously, insane) or even having to cross streets between cars that only consider not hitting you (which they signal with a honk—how lovely), but what I do mind most and what I had the hardest time adjusting to is the TRASH piled up EVERYWHERE. We’re staying in the AUC dorms in one of the nicest areas of the city—Zamalek—and there’s still trash EVERYWHERE. We’re talking so much trash piled up on the sidewalks that we have to walk in the street half the time. And did I mention that the streets are a wee bit dangerous and crowded too?

It’s really sad, actually. I hoped to come to Egypt and just be blown away by the beauty and the history on a daily basis, but honestly, most of the time, I’m watching my feet to make sure I don’t step in something.

They do have a garbage system. That was one of the first and biggest questions we had for our guide during our tour of the city last week. For generations, Cairo has depended on the work of the Zebediin people, (literally, trash people) who live in the slums (with 2 million of their closest friends) and have individual or family contracts with buildings downtown to take their trash away daily or weekly. Now, where do they take it? To their homes, of course, where they sort through all of it and pick out anything of worth to sell for profit. Apparently, they’ve received international “green” awards for their excellent work in recycling, but I’m sure they won’t get hygiene awards any time soon.

Of course, another big culture shock factor we’ve had to deal with is the harassment we all (even the guys) get on an extremely regular basis. According to our program leader in Egypt, Sherif, even Egyptian women are harassed (regardless of whether they wear the veil or not) when they’re out in the city. The best analogy I can come up with to explain this phenomenon is that it’s like a bunch of sexually charged adolescent boys one-upping each other without hardly any social constraints or consequences. It’s absolutely abhorrent, and honestly, annoying.

So far, I’ve been impressed with my classmates in the modest-dress department, but it doesn’t really matter how much you cover up—you’re still going to get looks and honks and over-the-top comments. The best route is to ignore them. This is not so easy for many of my Minnesota-raised peers, who are used to at least looking everyone in the eye as they pass them on the street, if not greet them too.  It’s not that difficult for me. I just think of what my parents say about skiing in trees: look at the spaces between them, not the trees themselves. This is particularly useful to keep in mind when you go to a market, especially Khan al-Khalili: the biggest market in Cairo.

Going into my experience at Khal al-Khalili, I didn’t want to have the same overwhelming feeling of unpreparedness and discomfort that I felt the first few days in Cairo, so I planned for the worst. I was certain that it would be chaotic beyond anything I’d ever seen or experienced, that I would have to physically protect both my body and wallet at all times, that I would get separated from my group due to crowds, and that I would definitely get ripped off on everything I decided to buy.

The moral of this story is: always expect the worst. Then, when it’s not that bad, you are pleasantly surprised. That’s exactly what occurred for me at Khan al-Khalili, and I had a fabulous time. It was far less chaotic than the Expo center at the Wisconsin State Fair, which is definitely the most concentrated “shopping” experience I’ve had; I never felt physically threatened nor overly suspicious about pickpockets (I did keep my purse in front of me—that’s just smart); our little group of four stayed together, helping each other bargain or walk away from “deals”; and I was pretty damn good at bartering, if I do say so myself. Watch out. I’m going to come back from this program and all you’ll hear me talk about is, “You like these earrings? I talked him down from 45 Egyptian pounds to 15!” Hopefully I’ll remember not to barter at Starbucks or the mall…

Speaking of money, we’re gonna have a really hard time transitioning to the Chinese and Korean economies at the end of our trip, because we’re already used to the super low prices in Egypt after only 10 days. Just to give you an idea, 6 Egyptian Pounds (E.P.) = $1, and we regularly get full meals for 6 EP or less. (In Luxor, we got huge falafel-filled pitas for just 1 EP each). Even still, the Egyptian population is starving. The average annual income is $6000, but for people in the slums of Cairo (which is often better-off than those in the southern villages), $500 - 1000 is considered high.

I’ve always had a really difficult time trying to understand what living under the poverty line ($2/day now, according to the UN) actually means. In the U.S., finding one meal for that amount of money is hard, not accounting for multiple meals a day or several mouths to feed. In countries like Egypt, where the poverty line translates to 12 EP, there are still over 16 million people trying to survive on despicable salaries. Some crazy econ facts:

• Public schoolteachers in Egypt are on strike right now because their current wages earn them $125/month ($200 according to the gov’t, but they don’t follow through) if they’ve worked for 20 years or more and much less if they’re newer.
• Rent prices are ridiculously high if you’re new to an apartment. However, if your grandparents started renting an apartment in the 1950s, you can pay that 1950 amount as long as the property stays in the family, so people not only stay put, but they fight between relatives for small studio and 1-room apartments. 
• What resource does Egypt have in so much abundance that it doesn’t even know what to do with? Sand. What can you make with sand? Concrete and glass. Yet, because their sand is too finely ground for these industrial processes, Egypt imports $750 million-worth of Australian sand annually.   
•  Egypt tripled its agricultural production in the last 60 years, but it isn’t enough to keep up with its growing population, despite the low 2% growth rate. It also doesn’t help that with urbanization, people are building more on fertile land, which obviously limits the crops you can grow. Family planning isn’t the issue—fertility rate is 3 kids/woman—you just can’t get rid of the huge (Egyptian-style) baby boomer population born 1970-1990 before the growth rate slowed.

But there are several amazing things about Egypt, too. For one, my group makes this place great on a daily basis.

I'm sorry there aren't any photos in this post. I'll upload a ton soon!