Welcome to Egypt!

January 12, 2010 6:16am San Francisco airport
So I guess I am really going to Egypt. It is not a figment of my imagination, an overly fed fantasy of my mind, or a topic in conversation. It is becoming my reality, stitch by stitch, step by step, prayer by prayer Egypt is my own, and will be.
Anxiety is the present pulse to my heart. Fear is chasing my heels but not quick enough to take hold. Despite the deep emotion that decorates my ever thought and breath I am ready. If you ask me, I am ready. Ready for change, ready for challenge, ready for knowledge, ready to experience, but most of all ready to walk with Jesus in a land He knows all too well.
I wish I was this reliant on Jesus in the comfort of my day to day life in the westernized, Christian, safe bubble I know.
Why does this simple action of obedience and education feel like a sacrifice to me? I know nothing of sacrifice compared to the ones before me and the ones around this world living in loneliness, fear, and purposeless living. The very least I can do is listen when God tells me to go. The very least I can do is love the ones close to me, and love the ones who are not just the same.
This is my temporary home; it’s not where I belong. I’m not afraid because I know this is my temporary home, and just a stop to where I am going. The least I can do is stop where and when God tells me.
Let the lessons in love begin, and my journey of faith be shattered to a new depth of understanding.

January 21, 2010 Agouza, Cairo
I am living in a city where pollution clouds the air, women ride a separate train car, and Islam is the truth. As a white American female who claims to follow Jesus I am the obvious minority. I belong to the minority in Egypt and the greater Middle East who suffer persecution, ridicule, and almost utter systemic neglect for their version of Christian faith. The call to prayer is background music (5 times a day) to my routine here in Cairo and I have already found myself not even noticing it. However, like now, as I sit on the balcony of my 6th floor apartment in the “upper middle class” neighborhood of Agouza I am overwhelmed and stirred to emotion when feeling the unity of an entire city, which represents an entire country, and region of my world that worships as one body unashamedly. After completing a full week in Cairo, observing, tasting, and touching the city I am beginning to catch my breath. It has been a whirlwind of feeling physically, culturally, historically and religiously illiterate. It has been eye opening, frustrating, and inspiring to experience something so different from anything I have ever known for myself.
As a woman I am learning to be submissive and take a back seat to what goes on here. I am beginning to see why the women dress and act so modestly and spend most of their time in their home. The majority of interaction I have as a white American woman with men involves cat calls, creative noises and dirty or sometimes absurdly flattering comments in Arabic. ALL THE TIME. Regardless of what you think you look like or represent they are seeing the girls on my program and me as desperate housewives that have luckily moved to their neighborhood and country. Harassing girls is a sport and fun way for the many young unemployed Egyptian guys to pass the time. I have had the chance to spend an evening with a 31 year old woman from Yemen, who I met at the mosque service I attended last Friday. Her name is Jihan Jihad, and she is living in Cairo to get her Masters degree in Business Administration. I sat next to her on the floor of the separate building where the women go to worship, (the men worship openly outside on the side of the road in an area 4 times the size). She curiously asked where I was from, why I was there and then proceeded to give me her phone number if I wanted to get together and talk or have tea. It turns out that Jihan’s father is a Sheikh in Yemen, (similar to a Senator) and her family consists of a doctor, lawyer, and many respectable positions in the oil industry including herself as a secretary. She is very intelligent and knows more about Christianity than I do (which has been proven typical in my time here). As a Muslim she respects religion as the most important thing in life and sees it as a difference between people but not a division. Her views on politics, religion and cultural behavior are more liberal than I had expected which she attributes to her high level of education. We walked across a bridge over the Nile discussing politics, relationships and what she sees as acceptable behavior. Later we sat in a garden downtown and spoke of our families back home and our dreams for the future.
Garbage City.
The saying “one man’s trash is another ones treasure” is the backbone for an entire Egyptian community. Coptic Christians occupy Garbage City, which was created when the government forced all of the people (Christians) who collect and sort trash for a living to move to a designated area. The Christians are the only ones who collect trash because Muslims are forbidden to eat or raise pigs which eat the unusable trash. Garbage city can visually be described as a slum full of disease, filth, malnutrition, and a place for the poor, but it is also a community of hard working believers and many many beautiful children. The biggest Coptic Christian church is in Garbage City which holds 8,000 people and is made out of a cave. There is a Mother Teresa orphanage called Sisters of Charity in the middle of Garbage City where we spent two days helping the overworked staff care for the 30 toddlers, 20 babies, and 20 elderly women who live there. The Sisters have taken a vow of poverty to live in solidarity with the people they serve. Meaning they refuse to use a washing machine or dryer for laundry, so they do all of the laundry and cooking by hand. I took care of babies covered with sickness and sores, and loved every minute of my ministry of touch except having to leave. We had the opportunity to visit a nonprofit organization in Garbage city that teaches and employs women in the community to make purses, rugs, placemats and handmade paper products to sell and make a living. It turns out that one of the line of bags have been recently sold to major designer Marc Jacobs to be sold in stores in the United States! I bought one of them for 6 dollars, which will soon be over 100 dollars after profit mark up.
My first taxi driver asked me where I was from and when we responded with “Amriika” his response was “America, kill” as he made a cutting motion across his throat. As you can imagine my initial reaction was a state of panic and fear, thinking I was about to be murdered by my driver for being an American. I continued to look at him as he smiled and repeated the phrase and motion again. I responded with “Amriika salaam” (America peace) but he shook his head and said “America no salaam. Bush kill, Obama peace.” Our conversation continued as my friends and I asked him more about his opinions of America and love for Obama. We left the taxi with a smiling new friend, and a glimpse of an extremely valid perspective.
I am overwhelmed with the depth, intelligence, and dedication the individuals I am on this program with contain. Already many have claimed special places in my heart for who they are, who they inspire me to be and the way we dream for the future and analyze our world’s realities every day. These are the leaders of our world, future presidents, pastors, peacekeepers, human rights lawyers, international business “missionaries,” professors, orphanage owners, Peace Corps volunteers, doctors, photographers and politicians. I am blessed to be surrounded by devotion, dedication, passion and honesty.
January 22, 2010
We had a “Women’s Night” with 3 Muslim women all of different ages and social classes as our panel. I was inspired by their dedication to modesty, their faith, and their roles in society. I could go on and on about what we discussed but the one thing that really stuck with me was when one of the girls who is Nubian, was asked to speak on her identity ranking the most important or influential to the least out of Muslim, Arab, Nubian, Egyptian. She responded with “Muslim because that is how God chose to be close to me. Then Nubian because that is my heart, and my heart feels for my Nubian people. Then Egyptian because that is my mind—then Arab.” Definitely something to think about.
Please pray for my academic discipline to do well in my studies. The coursework is more difficult than anything I have ever been exposed to, especially the Arabic language study. I start my internship at a men’s prison in Zamalek next Tuesday to spend one on one time with mostly Nigerian men who have been formally or informally convicted on some sort of drug charges for a very extensive sentence. Pray that I will hear their stories with a soft heart and be openly exposed to a foreign justice system I know little about. Continue to pray for safety, health and strong relationships among the students I am here with who are constantly having their beliefs and worldview shattered. Pray that bitterness would not take root, but instead hope and truth would be sought with love and respect.
I appreciate you all.
Salaam.